OSPCA THS Drama

Happy Thanksgiving, United Mostly States of America! Must be nice to have such a late harvest:)

OH, and do not, repeat, NOT go to Union Square's blog! I badgered/bludgeoned/picketed her to post another story, and, well, I feel terrible. I'm feeling tooo guilty to even READ it.

TERRIBLE. Guilt. Oh, the humanity!!

Breaking News!!
Speaking of which again, the OSPCA has now filed cruelty charges against good old Tim Trow, President of the Toronto Humane Society. His GM, and vets, too.

It's sad, and pathetic. I need to apply for his job. I know I could have done better. Oh, the argument I had with him. Not screaming, shouting. But, wow, arrogant and haughty, I think is the best way to describe him.

Anybody remember why I argued with him? I do. About a dog named Bandit. Lab/pit-mix, was still being rehabbed, two years after putting 200 stitches into a child's face. My darlin' red girl gave my nephew a warning nip, once, to the face. Bandit obviously didn't have much inhibition. Sorry, 200 stitches? The dog liked it. And would like it again. That he still wasn't ready to be adopted spoke volumes. I saw one picture of him, his eyes chilled me. I'd love to know what really happened to him. I'd be happy to be proven wrong in my suspicions. I just don't think it's wise use of time and resources.

That Animal Planet TV show, Dogtown, is a case in point. They have the time and the resources. Good trainers, good layout, good climate. And the space. And the TV show:(

But to me, that's excessive waste of funds that could help find homes for city dogs like my old girl. Worth that extra effort. There are bad dogs. Rare, but they are there. I, to this day, believe Bandit was one of the rarities, a blood-lust dog. I'm still awaiting truths about him.

And I stopped supporting the THS, after 12 years of giving them money, after that argument.
So, there.

The Clampers

or, how to piss off your horse, without even trying.

GRIP with your upper legs, tighten your clenched knees inwards, and guess what happens? Just guess, go on, I dare ya.

The horse, feeling this constant squeezing on his back and sides, tunes you out, or runs away. A lot. Try to imagine yourself backing into a corner. What happens to your shoulders? They round inward. Keep backing. Hurts your hips, doesn't it? That's what you do to a horse's back, when you clamp with your legs.

How can he move normally with you clamped like a giant clothespin up there? He can't. PERIOD. He can't feel any aid given, as he's been numbed to any sensation from his rider. How will he feel a slight increase/decrease in leg pressure, if all he ever feels is constant pressure??

Loosen your legs, let them stretch/flop down his sides. Try to touch the ground with your heel, then your toe, then your heel again. The weight of your legs and your body keeps you on the horse's back. Gripping with your legs pops you OFF his back.

Do NOT be a clothespin! Ever noticed what a clothespin does, if you use it on a blanket that's too thick? POP! Dirty blanket.

Okay, I gotta get to work.

Good luck, and remember, NO CLAMPING!!

Definitely Flip

This is from two years ago, but I still like this picture. It's my two K-Dogs in a nutshell.
I call them, and in one millisecond..
Flip : OH, did you smell that?
Blaze: Yes, Mom?

The four above are from June, 2005, BB (Before Blaze.) Flip had a long time to figure out Mr. Scary Jangly rooster and the Frisbee at his feet, and really enjoys lording her mastery over her cowardly kid sister:)
I don't tell Blaze how long this trick actually took. Point is, Flip did it. From the quivering little hesitantly happy WHAT is a TV! farmer lifed dog, to the bravest little city/country citizen canine eveR. Flip still doesn't like air-compressors, but neither do I:)

Fox Rescue Story

And a huge thank you to the Toronto Wildlife Centre for their quick response once the poor little critter was blocked in by Rudy, thank you Rudy! Rudy is one of the kind folks (Managed by Doreen M. THANK YOU Doreen) that feed the feral cats in our area. There's a little colony down the street from my shop, with it's own little insulated crates and toys.
I've not had much to do with them for 10 years, as having dogs in the shop precludes much cat visitation. For the past several weeks, I had noticed there weren't too many cats hanging around the colony. Then an emaciated tabby showed up at our shop, tame as tame could be, yelling FEEED ME. So of course, we did. But it did seem strange, that cats would choose up the street, rather than a warm, dry place full of food. Then I saw this fox, coming out of the largest cat condo, around noon last Friday. Toronto Animal Services recommended we call TWC, and once we'd organized everything, the fox was caught, and will spend tonight warm and safe. His mange is extreme, poor little critter. Lots of secondary infection. If he can be helped and released, the TWC will do it.

Foxes are one of my kindred spirit animals, so it helped lift mine a bit, to know this little guy would be helped.
Thanks again, TWC!

Six years!

Since Flip started bossing me around:) Here she is contemplating why on earth I would need the frisbee brought all the way to me, when she's only a few feet away. She has just noticed her dad come out, and is thinking she may have to order him around too, but he goes off to cut grass.

I will just have to do. Flip loves daddy, most men. She thinks they are wonderful. I make NO sense to Flip, fancy me, a mere human, telling her what's what!
Flip is predator. Flip is brilliant. At our first meeting, she hurled herself at my ankles/knees, backwards. She ended up sitting on my feet, facing forward, looking up at me. I was hooked, right there. She put up with my odd insistence on leash work, something she thought was embarassing, if not downright abusive. Direct Flip?? Flip is always a dog with her own direction, unless you give her one, first. Oh, and your directions must be at least as interesting as that squirrel, or you are out of luck.

I've learned (she's taught me) to use an east-indian accent, very musical and placating and enticing. Think Peter Sellers in that ridiculous movie "The Party". Who is Peter Sellers? Funniest movie actor, ever..
Oh, and if the attention is already gone elsewhere? I must come after her, always happy to see/find her, or she's sure to assume that an acid-bath is next. Flip is allergic to water. A bath is a death sentence, a hate crime against her very soul.

I've started using her collar every time she goes out, right now, to shame her for disappearing TWICE, before coming back for her breakfast. Turns out she had a secret stash of green gloobers down by the pond. Flip is into secrets.
Flip is also into drama. She LOVES a good argument about the relative merits of squirrels vs. chipmunks vs. geese vs. bad cats. As I say these magic words, Flip speaks her mind about how each can be got. In her mouth. SOMEday. Her breed standard says they bark, a lot.  Flip lives up to her standards, which is pretty funny, considering how cowery she was for our first few months together. Flip didn't bark a word for three months. I never should have taught her what speak meant. I thought she couldn't. Oh, yes, she can. Flip has several ArrrOOOgah words, for when I come home from work. MrrrrArrrrOOOOO, WAH. I LOVE YOU!!

(I'm leaving them home right now, so homecoming is heartwarming.)

Flip Considering her Options

And Sister Blaze is great for bossing, too!

To Our Wonderful Dogs, and the love and laughter they live to give.
And to Spot. I will truly miss those toot reports.

Well, I mean..

Here's history, for ya!