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Sunday, December 19, 2010


I've been very remiss in posting. My life has taken a turn. I'm retiring from my 911 operator job because I cannot handle any more stress like I have been doing. I can't go into details because some are pending court cases but just say talking to murderers, suicides and utterly stupid people have taken its toll. I am trying to get my Class B license renewed but that's taking more effort than I expected.

But the good news is my walking with Nature Hounds is going fabulously. The pups and I easily finished a 5 mile walk and actually could have done more. The lovely lady with me is from Rumania and we were having fun, at least I was, attempting a conversation. Note my new walking stick. Its a Brazos Hickory 55 inches and is sooo much better than my old walking cane.

Scarlet is doing wonderfully. I bought her some
Yucca to help her through the cold months.
She is fat, fluffy and frisky. Just the way she
should be at 22 years of age. What a wonderful
life we've had together. And look...Spots! It
only took her two decades to get them.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

What is wrong with Pit Bulls.

Let me say that I love Pit Bulls. Mine have all been love warts who want to be in your lap or in the bed with you.

What is a PitBull.

A pitbull can be: An American Bull Dog, American Pit Bull, American Staffordshire Terrier, Boston Bull, English Bull Dog, English Bull Terrier, Minature English Bull Terrier, French Bull Dog, Staffordshire Bull Terrier, or a loose Labrador Retriever called in by a stupid citizen who is mad at his neighbor.

More importantly, what's wrong with PitBulls.

What is wrong with the pitbull is the owner AND the dog. Too many wrong headed people own pitties because they are big intimidating and strong. They present an image to the world of who the owner is. Pitties are sort of like holding a loaded gun. The gun doesn't kill people, people kill people but if the wrong person picks up the gun then someone can die.

The pitbull is a heroic, brave, strong, loving dog who does exactly what his owner wants. If you want them to guard your kids, they are safe. If you want them to guard your valuables (house, car or drugs) they are guarded. But if you want them to kill other animals for sport, money or your fear, then animals will die. Pitties will literally die for you, and kill for you.

They are wonderful marvelous dogs, but to own one you need Experience, Maturity and Wisdom. Training should be required, tests should be given, licenses should be mandatory. Of course, I feel the same way about Rotties, Dobies, GSDs, Malinois and numerous other breeds. Oh, and breeding dogs needs to require all of the above mentioned stipulations also.

But then, I want a 5 year moratorium on breeding all dogs. Our dog cup runneth over and too many good ones going down the drain.

Friday, September 10, 2010

I'm baaaack from the land of Dragons.

Here I am back at the computer trying to put the weekend into perspective.

Dragoncon is the land of dreams where you meet your favorite television personalities, your best friends and your wildest fantasies. I met witches and pirates and fairys and elves oh my. Not to mention my favorite author, the ghost hunters and Michael Shanks.

My girl friend fed us such magnificent things as biscuits, peach cobbler and dacqueries. I wore my hair down and costumes.

It was magnificent and always takes me about a week to get my feet back on the ground. And then wonder why I did feet, not Dragon con.

I almost cried when I had to get on the plane. At least I found the jeep and it started.

And the dogs were happy to see me.

Oh dear, I'm home and not nearly as happy to be here as Dorothy was.

Reality is such a bitch.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

life and animals

Dogs are worth more than any money from any where. When the ambulance came for me last March my little man, all 8 inches and 14 pounds, attacked the EMTs. The big ole policeman had to come and get him out of the room. Luckily he was the K-9 cop and knew how to handle dogs so no one got hurt.

After this experience death seems to be in my thoughts. It's like I can see it more clearly. Waking up in the hospital with a tube in my lungs changed my whole perception of life. I want to live it as fully as possible without fear. I want to walk even if I fall down. I want to ride even if I fall off. I want to see the world and enjoy it even at the expense of comfort for me. BUT it will not cause discomfort for my animals. They are always foremost in my mind.

Life goes on and in very unexpected ways. Abbott and Bridget are very much in my life. My doctor once said that if it weren't for my animals I'd be dead by now. They ARE my reason for living. Once several years ago before I got my condition under control, I couldn't ride Scarlet and I couldn't even walk the dogs. But every morning I would get up, go feed Scarlet and clean her pen, sit down and cough for a while then come home and feed and play with the dogs then cough some more and go back to bed until work time. They were an effort but they were/are MY responsibly.

Scarlet will NEVER be sold and should live another 10 years (she's 21, getting older for a horse). Abbott is 7 and Bridget 4 so I'm counting on at least 10 more years for them. When I lose each of them, I will make a decision. I predict that I will always get more dogs, probably rescues. I don't know about the horse because by then I'll be 67. Maybe an older rescue horse for just easy riding. That will depend on finances. I figure that there will always be a sad, hurt, frightened dog that needs me and I will need him just much as I've needed these two. I figure that the best tribute to my little lost ones is to get one of their kin to love...not to take their place but to make their own spot in my life.

Why? Because they are my priceless gems. Some people collect diamonds and dollars but I think I collect little hearts. I would rather feel them beating under my hand or next to me in the night than have all the gold in the world.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

The sad story of a fat dog.

Oh, dear. I've not been blogging. I've been reading not writing and that's always dangerous.

I had a discussion with a pal about her dog. Their vet said he was too fat.

Well, sadly, he is. Big boned, large, fat Lab.

The cure? Diet dog food.

I was surprised. I didn't know they made such a thing, but then I feed raw. I do feed meat with fat on it but my dogs are not fat.

'Of course, JRTs are naturally much more active.' My friend replied. By the way my Pal is heavier than I am, I'm guessing around 250, so its no surprise her dog is overweight too.

Yes, that is true, JRTs are more active. They are really more active when you walk your dog every other morning for 2 to 3 miles. Then they aren't AS active in the afternoon. But diet dog food? Of course, you pay more for it so that you can feed your dog too much of it just like you fed too much of the other stuff.

Okay, here's my question. Why feed your dog too much food to make him fat? Control the amount of food he gets. Why not insure he gets enough exercise. Walk your dog. You will both benefit.

Her answer? 'I can't walk poor Pookie. He's sick.'

He has diabetes cause he's too fat! He's fat because he eats too much. He needs exercise which will help him lose weight. Walking is the best exercise for him but you won't walk him cause he's sick and has diabetes.

Talk about a vicious circle!

Oh, and he doesn't like to walk.

Uh huh. Sure. Right. How do you know he doesn't like to walk if he's never been walked. My two jump and run circles when I put on the fanny pack and the sun hat. WALKIES! WALKIES! WALKIES!

So there lies poor fat Pookie. He has a life span of 10 if he's lucky. He's sick because he's fat and can't walk to lose weight because he's sick. I've got news for my Pal. Pookie is also going to get arthritis and probably develop hip problems from carrying that extra 20 or 30 lbs.

But then, so is she. So in 5 or 6 years, if she's lucky, the two of them will be sitting at home with 'health issues' and watch me walk by their window with my two Jacks. She'll say that they can't do that and its a shame and I wonder why they can. It must be, oh I don't know, maybe genetics, or fate, or God's will.

No dear friend. It's you.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Recon Patrol 7/12/10

Today we had a long and rather hot RECON. I got up early and we were out the
door by 0730. We went a new route into a subdivision that's close to the house.
We climbed our 40 degree 'hill' then started exploring some different streets. The
neighborhood is a nice one with sidewalks and high privacy fences. There's even
a little park where we stop and drink water and I put some on the dogs' faces
and bellies to be sure they're cool enough.

The only problem is the privacy fences. When there is a dog inside the yard,
the Cpls cannot see him. This makes for a rather noisy passing as Bridget takes
offense at not being able to see the enemy. And some of them are quite large
and hit the board fence with enthusiasm. I even saw a German Shepard or
Malinois head come up over the 6 ft fence.

We had been going at a good clip and Bridget and I were arguing whom the
commander of this particular parade. She always wants to be in front and then
strains against the lead. Added to this was the additional stress of the
unpredictable attacks on the various perimeter fencing. Cpl Abbot as usual was
in his customary 1st Sgt's position at the rear of the formation happily
trotting his short little legs along.

Then we turned a corner to go up yet another street when I saw looming up the
hill an Samurai Sentry in the form of a huge black chow dog. He was standing
in the big middle of his front yard and giving us the evil eye. I stopped the
patrol and considered our options. We could go forward and engage the enemy,
but my two little Marines had been going great guns for 2.3 miles and were not
at their best fighting conditions. Plus, my main homicidal maniac had been
fighting me for the last mile. Nevertheless, she hit the end of her leash and
barked out her battle cry. Cpl Abbott looked at me like Longstreet to Lee at
Gettysburg and said "If you want it, we'll do 'er, but I'm not enthusiastic
about the whole thing."

As the Commander I took all options into consideration and decided to make a
dignified retreat. We had lost nothing on that street. The other soldier was
only guarding his own camp and had not made any hostile moves yet. And he was
Huge!! Even from the distance, he looked to be the size of a black angus bull.
Just a while back we'd successfully withstood skirmishes from two macho young
Pit Bulls but no actual blood had been shed. I liked out combat history. I'll
take one successful flanking movement and one peaceful outcome over a last stand
any day. My two marines have a combined weight 31 lbs, this guy probably topped
out at around 100 with or without fur coat. So we made a good about face and
headed down the lonesome trail. The Chow, like a good sentry, stayed his post and
watched us leave without comment.

We continued to back track until we hit our regular route and headed towards the
high school and then home. We made it down to the tennis courts but when we went
to cut across the high school campus at 3.07 miles, Bridget pulled back and plopped
down on the dirt. The good thing is that she picked a shady spot that we could all
enjoy the break. I pulled out the water bottle and the Home K9 Energy Edge'shake mix'
that I just got several days ago and mixed her a potion. She drank it down and lay
there happily as I washed her with the remainder of the cool water. She wasn't
abnormally hot, she just appeared all tuckered out. So we sat in the shade a while
took a short break and, when she finally got back up, made it back to the house.

I'm thinking that she's just not used to controlled marches. As a pup she just
did what she wanted and rested when she felt like it. So, since we've been
having forced marches, she just doesn't have the traveling stamina that Cpl Abbott
does. He stays calm and collected most of the time only having some mild panic
attacks when honking big vehicles come a little too close for his comfort zone.
He's only reacted violently once when a Labrador puppy tried to put a foot on
his head. When we get back from the marches he's just a happy little guy, no fuss no
muss no drama. She, on the other hand, is wearing herself out arguing with me and making promises she probably can't keep against much combatants. I mean I walk with a stick but it probably wouldn't have done much against Attila the Chow.

So that was our walk today. We actually logged 3.6 miles in about 2 hrs
including the breaks and the dramatic collapse. I'll probably take the little
darling to see her vet this weekend just to be sure there's not a real problem
that's manifesting itself as these apparent 'fainting' spells.

By the way, when we did get home, they BOTH had to run perimeter fence, chase the squirrels, threaten the Cocker brothers and argue with old Brownie. Then they came in and slept on the bed while I got ready for work. What a life.

Monday, July 12, 2010

My pit bull adventures, or a tragedy waiting to happen

This is just some experiences I myself have had.

I walk several miles a day with my two Jack Russells. I'm 57 years and cannot run so anyone/thing I meet must be dealt with.

Several weeks ago I was walking in a field near a residential area. A beautiful silver pit bull puppy started following us. I believe he'd been at the park getting water from a leaky fountain. He had no collar or tags. I only had my two little dogs and they were very adamant that he was the enemy and should be fought off, but he was totally non agressive and backed away at my insistance. He headed back into the residential area and hopefully home.

Two days ago, Saturday night, I was walking at the high school across the street from us when another young rednosed pitbull started following us. My two again began the growling barking thing and I tried to run him off too. He actually rolled and showed his belly. When I did get him to leave I watched in horror as he ran out into traffic and nearly got hit. Becoming frightened he came back to me.

Being a complete sucker, I pulled my emergency lead out of my fanny pack and looped it around his neck. He had a fancy collar but NO TAGS! I dropped my two Jacks off with my husband who was a bit surprised to see my new friend. Did I mention that my female Jack had already bitten the poor guy once before I realized that she could get to him. Again, no agression on his part.

I took him down to a house on my street that I knew had pitties. They didn't know who he was but had seen him in the neighborhood recently. Luckily the man was willing to take him from me and keep him. He works in a 7-11 store and said he'd post pictures of him around. He like me just thinks the boy got out.

The point of my stories, why in less than a month was I acosted by pitbulls? Now, I love pitbulls, I'm not afraid of them, these were both young dogs, both had collars but no ID tags, both were intact males. Both were playful but non-agressive. I didn't turn them into the pound because of the euthanasia practices against pitbulls. Both times ended as well as could be expected.

I do not understand the thinking of these owners. Do they not think they can get out? Do they not care that their dogs run the risk of death on the streets or death at a pound? Both beautiful young dogs. Both friendly. Both doomed by their owner's lack of care and attention.

Its a trajedy waiting to happen.