Addicted

Frankie and I have a new addiction. It's a real obsession, tride and true, and it's not something that will soon be done.

We have a problem.

An addiction.

And nothing can remedy it.

Yes, Frankie and I have some issues.




Disc.

We're obsessed with these round, plastic, uncooperative circles called discs.

Frisbees.

Flying Saucers.

Pluto Platters.

Wham-O's.

I'm told by my fellow disc doggers that I have to keep sessions with my dog short in order to build her drive. Well, I've discovered that this in turn builds MY drive. Frankie doesn't want to end the game. I don't want to end the game. We are both left sitting there, wanting more. Which only makes the next time the disc comes out even that much more intense for the both of us.

Today I played with Frankie for about 5 minutes. Which was probably about 3 minutes too long. Don't tell the disc doggers. I put Frankie away, and then I went back outside with a handful of discs. Frankie was devestated to see me walk outside, with discs, withOUT her. I heard her yips and cries even as I shut the door behind me.

I felt like I was cheating on her.

But I had to get another 5 minutes with those discs. And 5 minutes turned into 10. And 10 into 20. And before I knew it, I had mastered a new throw.

Okay. I haven't mastered anything in the game of disc. But I'm getting the hang of it.

I know I pissed off my dog. But since a dog can only be as good as her handler, and it turns out that my throwing sucks, I'm really doing it for her own good. Right?

That's what I'm going to keep telling myself!

Look at my Aussie disc freak. Who likes the disc...?


~Photo courtesy of Larry Hotchkiss @ Canidography.com~

Monday Rant

Subject: New & Improved

Have you ever heard of someone refer to something as 'new and improved'? I have. Like 14 times in the past week.

Now maybe I'm just looking into it way too much. Way too much. But in my own opinion, nothing can be both new and improved.

If it's new, there is nothing else of it's kind. It's a new product, therefore given the name 'new'. It it's improved, than that means that something like it already exists, and this 'improved' state means that it's a better version of the previous one.

So how can they be both? I don't know. That's why I'm ranting about it today. Stop referring to things as new and improved. Either its new, or its improved. Pick one!

On a side note... Have you ever noticed how sometimes I put an apostrophy (') in words and sometimes I dont? Like right there, I didn't put it in 'dont' but I did put it in 'didn't'?

Ya like that?

Oldies

Something that many of you don't know about me is that I grew up listening to, no, completely emersed in, 50's and 60's music. Oldies. Doo Wop. Malt Shop music?

My daddy's bands played it. Therefore they practiced it often. We listened to it in the car. And if it wasn't playing around us, Dad would sing it there on the spot. It's one of his true loves. And growing up with it, it's also one of mine.

When I think back on most of my fondest childhood memories, there are oldies songs playing in the 'background' of them. One of my favorites is when I was like 7 years old... Maybe less? We went to Oklahoma to visit some of my aunts, uncles and cousins. My aunt and uncle had a reining horse operation and I remember my dad, my uncles Greg, Fred & Cy, and myself (and probably more people, but this is what I remember) and we were sitting out on a deck or patio, and somebody was telling the story of these nasty black bugs that could bite huge holes in your skin. And there was one on my dad's beverage can and I freaked out and they were laughing at me. No, that isn't the fond part of the memory, but since it happened then, apparently I retained it. But then after that, all of them started singing 'Blue Moon' by The Marcel's. And I remember them trying to make me sing it because it was one of my favorite songs, but I was too shy or embarassed to sing. I remember it all very clearly. Navy blue, summer evening sky, pretty stars.

Or shortly after that, or maybe shortly before? We took a family trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota. And at the time, Tess and my's favorite song was 'Denise' by Randy & The Rainbows. So my dad recorded it like 10x in a row on a cassette tape and we played it all the way to SD. Until everybody else finally got sick of it and made us turn it off. But to this day I can't listen to that song without remembering the caves that we explored, the gold that we panned, and even the fact that our cabin there was called 'The Vulture'.

Whenever I hear "Popcicles & Icicles" by The Mermaids or "Be My Baby" by The Ronettes, I think of my sister Tess. Tess and I used to jam in the driveway to these songs when our ages were still single digits.

Sure I grew up in the 80's and 90's. But that crap has got nothing on the golden oldies.

Monday Morning Rant

Monday Morning Rant

Subject: Construction Season

We live in Minnesota. Obviously. You saw the big Minnesota at the top of the page right? You didn't think I was some cool, hip California chick, did you? Come on.

There is an ongoing joke here in the Lakes State about our seasons. Winter & Road Construction. Haha... Not. So my question to all of you is... And you've heard me ask this before, I'm sure...

For all of the damn road construction that happens across this state, making me late for work, ripping up my front yard, sending bright orange cones into my path... How come our ROADS SUCK SO MUCH!?

Have you ever noticed how bad the roads really are around here? What exactly are they working on when they are ripping the roads up? Because it's certainly not the roads!!!

*deep breath*

Better.

Mine That Bird

Congratulations to Mine That Bird on his win in the 135th Run for the Roses!

What a fabulous win!

Please remember Eight Bells, who passed away in 2008 after that last Kentucky Derby.

I no longer watch horse racing, as I don't like where the sport's intent seems to lie. However I do watch the Triple Crown races every year. Gambling or not, those horses love to run.

The Dog Whisperer

I love Cesar Milan's work.

I remember, back when I first started rescuing dogs, that there were many heated discussions between rescuers over the dog whisperers methods. At first, I went along with it, if everybody hated him, I had to as well.

But then I saw an episode, and I've been hooked ever since.

Today, I got into another heated battle over the ways and methods of this man. People called him cruel, anti-dog, abusive, etc. Everything under the sun. So rather than argue about it like I have in the past, trying to defend one of my heros, I simply asked these two people who were 'anti-Cesar' a very simple question.

"Well, why don't you list for me, right now, what he does that makes him abusive and cruel, and maybe I'll see your side of the arguement."

They looked at me for a minute. They looked at each other. Then one retaliated that Cesar hit dogs. "When?" I asked. I've never seen him hit a dog. I've seen him touch dogs. I've seen him block a behavior or distract a behavior. I've seen him turn red zone aggression type animals into well behaved family dogs. Dogs that would have otherwise been euthanized, simply because we as the human race are very adept to ruining dogs.

95% of the dogs that I have fostered here were huge. They were untrained. They were wild creatures, some even dangerous, and every one of them benefitted from Cesar's methods. I'm not Cesar Milan, nor do I claim to be an expert in regards to using his methods. But I am very confident in teaching new dogs the walk. I am very confident in using the 'chhhhsshh' noise to distract. I am the pack leader in my home, and that's why these once unmanagable dogs live so happily here. That man is why I can have 8 dogs from an array of different backgrounds living in peace together in our little home.

Cesar doesn't believe in humanizing dogs. And I agree with that thought 100%. Yes, I will occasionally call them my babies just to annoy Red... But that's as far as it goes. My dogs are my world, make no mistake. But I don't let them run my world, either.

The methods that Cesar teaches make perfect sense. Dogs are social, pack animals. And since humans decided to domesticate them and seperate them from their natural packs, we become their new pack. And if you don't maintain your pack leader role, then they will take it over. And not because they want to, but because they don't trust you to do so.

Dogs respond to energy. Dogs respond to body language. They don't understand baby talk. They don't want to wear sweaters and diamond studded collars. You can't hurt a dogs feelings by doing human things, nor can you benefit them by applying human emotions to them. They want to be dogs! So let them!

That's what Cesar brings to these families that he helps.

He let's dogs be dogs.

I still don't understand why rescuers especially seem to have this hatred towards the dog whisperer. I've seen rescuers do more cruel things than Cesar ever has.

If anyone would like to shed some light on this subject, my comments section is wide open for discussion!

Dogs in Heaven

Red's uncle Pat sent this to me this morning. I love it.

A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.
He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.

After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?"

"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.

"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.

"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up." The man gestured, and the gate began to open.

"Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog. After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.
"Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"

"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in."

"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.

"There should be a bowl by the pump." They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.

"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.

"This is Heaven," he answered.

"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."

"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell"

"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"

"No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind."