Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts

Friday, February 05, 2016

5053 Got the blahs

Friday, February 5, 2016

First you have to figure out who you are.
Then you have to like who you are.
Then you have to be who you are.
That's where strength comes from, and all else follows.

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Yesterday it was very warm, close to 50 F.  Nugget came to visit, and we went to the town hall (pay taxes), the bank (deposit some checks), post office (buy stamps), and a sub shop (feed Nugget).  She was wearing a light jacket, I wore no jacket or sweater at all.  She tried to get me to put the top down, and I might have, except that I'm still full of phlegm and don't want to tempt fate.

The snow from the previous storm had been steadily melting, and yesterday the last little bits disappeared, even in the shade.  It was a nice feeling.

So this morning I was surprised to wake to the sound of a snowplow going down the street.  There's a manhole cover near my driveway, and when the plows hit it, they make a loud bang.  That's what woke me.  I got up and went to the window and found about three inches of snow on the ground.  What?  Oh, come ON!

But it's near 50 again, and it's melting fast.  That means ice overnight, but it should all be gone tomorrow.

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I've been reading this blog, and adding tags.  I started near the end of 2006, I think, and I'm now into late 2008.  I can't believe how much has changed.  

Before I moved to New Jersey, I was going out for lunch or dinner with friends three or four times a week, sometimes more.  I went to performances, fairs, shows, movies, auctions.  I read a lot.  I walked a lot.  I was, in short, very active and social.  I was involved with Mensa, and Meetup, volunteer groups, and the dance stuff.  I had a lot of opinions, some even passionate opinions, which became blog posts.  And, of course, there was The Man.  I really really miss the fun we had, back when it was fun.  I miss that version of him.

Then I moved down here (late 2010, early 2011), and almost immediately had the kidney thing, which put the skids to so much for so long.  The local Mensa bunch, the folks within travel distance of my current location, anyway, isn't to my taste.  Local meetup groups seem to emphasize booze and bars, which doesn't interest me, plus I don't understand most of the people I'd met at the few functions I'd attended.  They seem so, uh, New Jersey shallow.  And racist.  (Becs, resist the urge, I have enough negativity of my own right now...)  There are no auction houses.  I checked into volunteer organizations, and they don't do anything much around here. There doesn't seem to be any easy way to find out about activities, lectures, happenings, and the few public events I have discovered --- the crowds and traffic were discouraging.

So my world has been getting smaller and smaller.  I go nowhere, talk to no one.  I'm turning into a hermit.  As to opinions, I almost never turn the TV on, except for a very few shows I watch and then immediately off again, and I never watch the news.  I resist exposure to the news because a.) they never cover important stuff, and b.) what they do cover tends to just anger me.  And there's no point in saying anything about it, because nothing will change.  Nothing will ever change.  It's about to where I don't care anymore.  What will be will be.

So, reading old posts is reminding me that once life was fun.  

 But the elements that contributed to the fun don't seem to be here.

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The Aberdeen township sent out an email saying that ALERT! a pit bull who had bitten three people has been diagnosed with rabies, so they need to know of anyone who had contact with the dog.  If you or anyone else blah blah contact blah blah immediately.  A very long email, detailing what rabies is, mentions of past animals in the township with rabies, what animals to avoid (raccoons, stray cats, skunks, etc.), blah, blah, blah.  

Nowhere in that whole screed do they describe the dog other than that it was a pit bull, nowhere do they mention what neighborhood, and this is a long narrow township.  They also don't advise anyone to check their cats for damage, most of which run loose and are not taken in at night.  (That's where some indication of neighborhood might come in handy.)

Around here, about every fourth dog is a pit bull.  Nobody trains their dogs.  They might try, but they don't know how.  People seem to think that their dogs speak English, so yelling "Hey, you, get over here!" should have meaning to the dog, and they get mad when the dog doesn't obey  I suspect few people get the immunizations.  I know just by looking that almost nobody neuters male dogs, especially the pits.

What does surprise me is that you almost never see dogs running loose.  Too many guns around, I guess.
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Wednesday, September 02, 2015

5001 Cute has changed

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

"Some things have to be believed to be seen."
-- Ralph Hodgson --

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The world of internet cute dogs has been taken over entirely by corgies, pugs, and little yappers whose tongues don't fit in their mouths.  The cat territory now belongs to malformed felines --- cats with insanely stubby legs, or whose noses are so squashed they can't breathe properly, or who have devastating birth defects.

Something's wrong here.  I don't understand.
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Sunday, October 12, 2014

3985 Experiences with pet sitting and boarding

Sunday, October 12, 2014

"Traditions are group efforts to keep the unexpected from happening."
 --Barbara Tober--

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Since about 9th grade, and excepting college, I've had dogs and/or cats.

Cats are easy to leave.  They can easily be left for two overnights if they will eat dry food, longer if they are youngish and healthy and mellow.  They just sleep all day while I'm gone.  They need a visiting nanny or boarding only if they aren't healthy, or if it's for more than a weekend or so.

Dogs can't be left for more than a few hours unless they are smart enough to use the cat's litter box.  They can't be trusted with more than one meal's worth of food, because they'll just eat it all in one gulp, or destroy the timed feeder if you try to use it, and then throw the excess up on your bed.  And they get bored, and then destructive.  So visiting nannies won't be enough.  Dogs need boarding.

I have a history of pet sitting and boarding horror stories.

I asked a friend, Barbara, to feed my cat Smokey while I was away for five days, when I lived in Gettysburg.  Smokey ate only canned food, so she needed a visit once a day.  Now, Smokey sometimes wouldn't eat for the first day that I was away, and I told Barbara that.  That's normal with some cats.  When I returned, I found a food dish full of rotted food, crawling with maggots, and a very desperate cat who wouldn't let me out of her sight for days after.

I asked Barbara what had happened.  She said she'd fed Smokey the first day, and when she went back the second day the food hadn't been touched, so she figured rather than throw it out she'd leave it, and "When the cat got hungry enough, she'd eat it."  She didn't even go in after that because she could see the dish through the window and apparently Smokey hadn't been hungry.  Of course, I was furious.

(This, by the way, is the same woman who later chased me with a knife, seriously trying to kill me, because she KNEW I had been messing with her husband.  Actually, it was another woman with my same first name, and when she asked her husband if it was me, he said yes because he didn't want her to know it was actually his ex-wife, whom Barbara hated.  The idiot guy thought that since she and I were friends, it would be ok.  Gettysburg had some seriously wacked-out people.)

So the next time I went away, I asked Jeanie to feed Smokey.  The very first day Jeanie visited, when she opened the door, Smokey burst out and ran off.  Jeanie searched and called and couldn't find her.  Smokey was gone.  Jeanie actually moved into my house so she'd be there if Smokey returned.  She called and searched for the next several days, and left food outside the door, and it was eaten, but she didn't know by whom.  Even though she was watching, she never saw Smokey.  When I returned, I drove into the parking area, and Smokey greeted me when I opened the car door.  Apparently, she had been out searching for me for days.  Jeanie was so relieved, and I appreciated Jeanie's efforts.

After that, I boarded my cat(s).  I found some really good places over the years, like that woman who had what looked like little motel rooms, with climbing shelves and cubby holes, and a window at floor level with bird feeders outside, and in a pinch I boarded at the vet's.  The cat would spend the night in a cage at the vet, but during the day she had the run of the office.  Smokey liked that.

Later a friend clued me in - if you're using an amateur pet-sitter, get like three and rotate their days. That way if one of them screws up, or even two, it's not a disaster.

Dogs were harder.  I found so many kennels that looked good at first, but I always sensed something wrong when I'd pick the dog(s) up.  Something "off".

One time I returned a day earlier than scheduled, and decided to pick up the two dogs then, straight from the airport (pre-cell phone days, so no call ahead).  I arrived at the kennel and asked for my dogs.  The kid at the desk hemmed and hawed, and said I couldn't get them until tomorrow.  I insisted, saying that of course I was willing to pay for the extra day, no problem, please get my dogs now.  He said he couldn't, and when I asked why, he said they needed grooming.  I said no problem, I don't need them groomed, please go get them now.  I finally had to get angry and point out that they were MY dogs, and you CAN'T keep them! I want them RIGHT NOW, or I'm calling the cops!

Well, I got them.  Their dog beds were wet, stinking of urine, and coated with wet and dried feces.  So were the dogs.  Poop was caked on their hips and sides.  It was obvious they'd been walking and lying in poop.  It was awful!  This explained why when I'd left them there on two previous occasions, they smelled of shampoo when I picked them up, and their beds had been freshly washed and dried.

That was the last time they stayed there.

The dogs were in an inside "room" with a door to an outside pen, which was supposed to be open all day, but apparently they didn't get outside very often.  I know this because Puppy (yes, that was her name - long story) was a fastidious Australian Kelpie, and never eliminated on anything but grass or dirt.  She wouldn't even go on concrete or asphalt.  So for her to have gone inside the concrete-floored room, she must have been desperate. 

One thing I have learned:  If you go to check out a kennel, and the owners will not allow you to actually see the areas where the animals are kept ("Oh, no, strangers walking through will upset the dogs.  We don't allow anyone back there except the workers."), then run fast away.  A good kennel with nothing to hide will escort you through, or at least allow a look (and sniff) through a door.   When the dogs see you accompanied by a familiar face, they are curious, they might bark, but they're not "upset".

----Just thinking about that stuff today.
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Saturday, August 30, 2014

3971 Thoughts

Saturday, August 30, 2014

You can live the entire rest of your life without breathing.  It's true.

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A woman's skirt should never be shorter than it is wide.

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Too many folks in this neighborhood have pit bulls, and too few know a damn thing about training.  Regardless, after thinking it over, I've decided that I just plain don't trust pit bulls, trained or not.  Never had to think about it before, but yeah, when it comes to pit bulls I do have a negative prejudice.  And I can explain it.

When any other breed of dog bites or attacks, he's saying that he is annoyed or afraid, and wants you to stop what you're doing or go away.  If you stop touching his painful hip, or if you indicate that you are conceding to his request to get off his property (or out of his life), or as soon as he's no longer afraid, he stops and backs off.  The dog wants to make a point, and once the point is made, he quits.

Not so with pit bulls.

Yeah, they can be wonderful loving family dogs, just like any other breed, and just like any other breed if he never feels a need to bite, he won't.  The difference is that when he does get riled up for whatever reason, he, unlike other dogs, is not trying to make a point after which he will stop, not going to administer a warning nip or a punishing bite --- no, when a pit bull starts, the only thought in his mind is KILL!  KILL!  KILL!  They don't stop until they do.

And that's why they scare me.  They have only two modes, on and off.

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I finally bought a bluetooth keyboard for my tablet.  Yeah, there's the onscreen keyboard, but it's a pain to use.  I finally know now why so many people ignore capitalization and punctuation in online comments.  The cost and frustration of doing it right when you don't have a keyboard with all the trimmings just isn't worth doing it right.  Now I know why so many have the attitude "Who cares?"
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Wednesday, October 23, 2013

3785 Notice for all pet owners

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

If you have a dog or cat, and give them jerky treats, please read this:

http://news.yahoo.com/fda-seeks-pet-owner-help-dangerous-jerky-treats-120212167--politics.html

Mysterious illnesses and deaths.  FDA is gathering info in an effort to identify the problem.
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Saturday, August 14, 2010

3055 Of dogs, poop, and dirt.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

"Those that flee temptation generally leave a forwarding address...."

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There's a local guy whose blog I read. I don't know him personally, just found him one day while searching for information on some local event. Anyway, he's starting to really bother me.

He, his wife, two medium-large dogs, and a passel of cats live in a wooded area near county-owned land that is forested and has a stream running through it. He helps heat the house in the winter by burning wood, which he mostly gathers on land he doesn't own. That doesn't bother me too much because he doesn't cut living trees, but gathers wind-downed wood. Still, it's not his wood, and left alone would go to nourishing young trees.

He does have two habits that do annoy me. (Well, he has many habits that annoy me, but these two affect others besides him, so they bug me more.)

He takes the dogs with him everywhere, off leash, to people's homes, to outdoor cafes, yard sales, everywhere, and seems to think everyone should be fine with that - which might be ok except that the dogs are not particularly well-behaved. They're "safe", in that they wouldn't so much as growl at anyone or other animals, and they don't usually wander far out of sight of him, but not everyone is relaxed around biggish dogs. Worse, they very well might piddle or poop on your carpet, and their owner thinks you should be fine with that and leaves it for you to clean up. I find his attitude very annoying.

Second, the county often dumps topsoil, gravel, or sand in areas around the stream for erosion control, flood control, and to make the little beach area more pleasant. Whenever this guy needs fill, he goes to those areas and takes what he wants. He seems to think it's there for his use. That royally pisses me off. Does he not care why the fill is there? Does he not care that we paid for it? It's not as free as he seems to think it is.

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The above reminded me of an incident with Ex#2's mother. I've mentioned that she hated me and used every possible passive-aggressive way to demonstrate her feelings.

Ex#2 had to go "home" for every holiday, and I was not allowed to beg off. Sometimes we took my dog along. She was a medium-sized black Australian Kelpie, and very well behaved. Ex#2's mother had a small terrier.

One time when we were visiting and had brought the dog along, arriving that morning, dear MIL came to me in the evening all in a huff and accused my dog of having pooped behind the couch (which was at an angle across a corner). She had been watching television and smelled it, and tracked it down to behind the couch. She took me to the room and had me kneel on the couch, and look at the evidence.

Yep. There was poop in the corner behind the couch. BUT, the poop was covered with white fungus, which indicated that it had been there several days. And the space between the corners of the couch and the wall were much too small for my dog to have gotten through. Her dog could have gotten through easily. Third, my dog had been beside me all day, and neither of us had been in that room. I pointed that all out, and she furiously informed me that her little darling was much too good to have done it. Therefore it must have been my dog.

Ex#2 wouldn't stand up for me. He told me to just clean it up. I think that was the first hint of no future with him.
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