Issue 33
Bo Obama’s Inner Dog The Documentary Mine Luke Robinson’s mission against cancer
Come. Sit. Stay. S
ome of you noticed. Some of you didn’t. We skipped an issue. It was our February 2010 issue, due out a month after I lost Basil at the age of 16…my muse, my co-editor, and the inspiration for Urban Dog Magazine. Losing Basil literally knocked the wind out of my sails and left me somewhat aimless and drifting without the oomph I knew I would need to produce a magazine in a few short weeks. It was at that point I decided to take a step back, catch my breath and take one issue off. A riderless horse, a tribute of sorts to Basil. An acknowledgement of him and all he was and all had given and inspired me to do. As we all know, life goes on. With that in mind, and missing Basil almost like I was missing a limb, I decided that I would try fostering dogs. It wasn’t long before I received a mass e-mail with several photos attached of a 12-week old black Lab puppy. The pup, the first foster, walked into the house a week later and it was at that moment that I discovered I’m not very good at fostering. Said foster pup arrived named Nicholas. Said foster pup was also immediately adopted. I knew he would never leave. Since I live in New Orleans, he was immediately renamed Satchmo—after legendary jazz trumpeter Louis Armstrong— hey, Sandra Bullock, you ain’t got nuthin’ on me! Not a day goes by that I don’t thank Basil, my brown bear, for everything he gave and inspired. Now I thank Satch every day for coming into my life, wiggly and warm, needing a loving home and helping to heal the big, gaping hole in my heart. There’s a big part of me that knows it’s Basil that sent him to me.
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Urban Dog Magazine 5500 Prytania St. #419, New Orleans, LA 70115 Ph/F: 504-897-9577 www.urbandogmagazine.com EDITORIAL Managing Editor/Publisher:
Lisa Robinson
Contributing Writers:
AJ Mistretta, Monica Collins, Mallory Messina, Steve Duno, Erich Trapp, Monica Leighton
Contributing Photographers:
Cami Johnson, Leesia Teh
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Basil is still pictured on this page as the editor. In the history of Urban Dog Magazine, Basil also graced two covers. On the cover, sharing this issue of Urban Dog with Basil is Satchmo. I’m glad to be back sitting at my editor’s desk with dog fur in my coffee mug. Great issue (we think!). In Wags, AJ Mistretta dissects the complicated issues presented in the dynamic, provocative documentary Mine, about the essential bond between humans and animals, set against the backdrop of one of the worst natural disasters in modern U.S. history: Hurricane Katrina. If you haven’t seen the movie, do yourself a favor and rent it. If you are traveling this summer, you will hopefully be taking your pup with you. If not, options abound…lush boarding facilities that are like doggie fantasy camps or home/pet sitters. Boarding facilities have business licenses and can be easily researched for quality, professionalism and cleanliness. In Tricks Monica Leighton, President of the National Association of Professional Pet Sitters (NAPPS) provides helpful guidelines and suggestions for interviewing and selecting a qualified pet sitter before your summer travels. Finally, we are absolutely delighted to have Bo Obama as our Inner Dog Interview. He’s wise, furry and quite witty. His motto? “Look good. Smell good. Be good.” We couldn’t agree more. Neither could Basil or Satchmo. Come, Sit, Stay, Lisa Robinson, Publisher/Managing Editor
Lisa Robinson 504-897-9577 ads@urbandogmagazine.com 504-891-0940 www.tchopshop.com
Urban Dog Magazine is published quarterly. We cannot be responsible for the return of unsolicited materials even if accompanied by a SASE. All material published in Urban Dog Magazine is copyrighted: Copyright 2010, Urban Dog Magazine, LLC. All rights reserved. Subscriptions are available for $15/year or $25/two years payable by check or money order. All subscriptions begin with the issue published after payment is received. Mail payment to: Urban Dog Subscriptions, 5500 Prytania St. #419, New Orleans, LA 70115
Dogma Last Dog on the Hill
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Wags Mine Love and a Promise
8 14
FETCH
16
DOG-EARED
18
TREATS
20
TRICKS Creating A Woof-derful Pet Sitter Relationship
22
ASK DOG LADY
26
BITES
27
The Inner Dog Bo Obama
29
COVER PHOTO: “Satchmo”
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LAST DOG ON THE HILL The Extraordinary Life Of Lou
L
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ou’s last meal was a sirloin fed to him on the day of his passing. He couldn’t walk anymore but he could still eat, that big-hearted dog, the steak flagging from his jaws like bloody treasure. The sanctity of food; eat through the pain—that’s dog law.
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He’d come out of the woods, where, like the first dogs, he’d learned the real meaning of survival. I’ve often entertained the notion that Lou sometimes held a quiet disdain for all the “home grown” dogs he’d met, silly, self-absorbed pets who’d never known a day of hardship or self-reliance, and who’d never get the chance to show their true mettle. If he ever did, though, he’d been too polite to mention it. I’d taken him from his family and his first home, and though I knew it had been the right thing to do, I can’t help thinking During his sixteen years he battled coyotes and kidnappers, sometimes that he’d missed them terribly, and that he’d let charmed babies and soothed the sick and elderly. He caught infatuation get the best of him, as it had me. rapists, foiled robberies, graced the cover of a book, taught sign But his loss was our gain, a thousand-fold. Ask anyone who’d language to kids, and peed on knights in shining armor. Lou’s known him for more than twenty seconds and they’ll tell you that intellect and abilities won me a life-changing job, which led to they wanted to be with him, wanted his Garbo eyes on them. me sitting here now writing about him. He danced with wolves, You imagined him of Narnian design, and not some mangy mutt herded sheep, charmed snakes and celebrities, won contests, scooped up off a road in rural California. climbed mountains, got kidnapped, and mastered a vocabulary Though known for my pet care manuals, I rested my bigger than that of some people I know. Lou redefined what it prescriptive pen to write this book, a book about an exceptional meant to be a great dog, and a bonafide hero. Four years later I dog who touched so many lives, a real-life Rin Tin Tin. He was can still smell him, still hear his collar jingle, still see his movie star an extraordinary friend who allowed me to publish eighteen mug looking up at me. Lou deserved that sirloin and a thousand books and scores of web and magazine articles. Lou, a dog who more. I miss him more than I can say. came so far and was good at so many things, who acted with In my twenty years as a trainer and pet behaviorist, I have aplomb, brilliance, and savior-faire. You saw his gears turning, and met thousands of dogs. Labs with country sweetness in their understood that he was mulling things over, weighing, deciding. eyes, terriers with something to prove, Italian Greyhounds with Lou was a thinker -- the kind of dog trainers love to work with. He matchstick legs. Careful toys, thoughtful hounds, cowards, could have been a movie star, a soldier, a coach, a judge— gastronomes, loudmouths, heroes, athletes, couch anything he’d wanted, if only he’d been born with fewer potatoes—I’ve known so many. But among them all, Lou By Steve Duno legs and more thumbs. But he went with what he had, had the most soul. and in so doing changed my life and the lives of many
This article continues on page 6
Let’s get this clear right away: I’m a dog. Although I’m a mutt on the outside, I’m a purebred on the inside. My name is Bo, and this is my story.
Join this incorrigible canine as he welcomes us into his life, complete with his wacky “parents,” a constipated feline housemate, and chipmunk warfare.
“You’ll laugh, you’ll howl, you’ll practically wag with pleasure.” —Dr. Marty Becker
An imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp. FOR CONTESTS, VIDEOS, GIVEAWAYS, AND MORE VISIT WWW.KENSINGTONBOOKS.COM OR WWW.BOKNOWSONLINE.COM
dogma
others. This is his story, and mine. It is the story of a real American hero. I’d found Lou in December, when he was about six months old. That put his birth at around June of 1989. I assigned June 6th to be his officially celebrated birthday; D-Day, or perhaps more precisely, Decision Day, the day I stuffed his sorry flea-bitten butt into the back of my car. Fast approaching his first birthday, Lou grew into his heredity fast. Nearly fully grown, he was strong, sleek and as handsome as any dog I’d ever seen. The reaction most people had to him reflected my own feelings about Mr. Poitier; charm and awe. Many felt drawn to yet intimidated by Lou, like moths to a pretty flame. Those who’d never owned a dog were the funniest to watch with him. I’d have Lou tethered out on the back patio of the Rose Café near the back entrance; people coming in would suddenly be face to face with his presence, and force of personality. They’d warily pat him on the head, and he’d march in place and wag his tail and rower then grin his big grin, and that was it. Sold. When he really liked someone he’d breathe in and out like a parked locomotive, slow and cavernous, an acoustic “Darth Vader” sound that big dogs often make. He’d lean into them, lay a paw atop theirs, gaze up and give his Mother Theresa, and they were his. Lou grasped early on that greeting patrons in this way guaranteed him a steady supply of leftover croissants, scones and sandwich crusts. Some of these same canine converts would come in months later with a new puppy in tow, inspired to ownership by the sociable black-and-tan dog with Garbo eyes. But not everyone at the Rose Café had good intentions. After tethering him to his normal spot one sunny day, I went inside to get some soup. Coming back out, I put down my bowl, grabbed my bread and brought it over to Lou, who appreciated a nice butterslathered slice of rye. He was gone. I looked around. Sometimes a customer who knew Lou would walk him out to pee. No dog in sight. “Lou!” I called out, running out to the parking lot. He was nowhere to be seen. “Some guys take him,” the busboy said, pointing south down 2nd toward Gold’s. “What guys?” “Couple guys. They look like bums.” It’s one thing if your dog jumps a fence to hunt peacock, but another thing entirely when somebody steals him in broad daylight. You’d expect a New York native to have more sense; it just never occurred to me that anyone would take him. I ran down 2nd in a panic, ready to knock someone’s block off. I didn’t have far to go. Like a scene from a Tom Mix film, there was Lou happily trotting back up the street, his two dog-nappers hot on his trail trying to step on the leash. I ran toward them at a full sprint, ready to kick some ass.
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He’d protected me and shown what he was capable of, that he had the courage and the judgment. I don’t think I’d ever felt as safe or loved in my entire life.
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Up to now Lou must have thought it all a game. But when he saw me running full tilt screaming like a crazed Celt, something clicked in his head. He smelled my rage and realized at that moment that the pack was in trouble. And wow, was I in for a surprise. I picked up the end of the leash then turned to face the two scuzballs, taller and heavier than me (what else is new). But I was fuming mad and ready. “Gimme that dog!” the bigger one slurred, his stench like a summer dumpster. They both had orange “street” tans and sounded half tanked. Before my eyes, another Lou emerged. He wheeled, took a braced stance in front of me and snarled like a creature from the third circle of hell. It began down deep, swelled with passion then exploded out of him in a frothing, head-shaking detonation of sound and fury. It scared the piss out of them and me. Who the hell was this? Lou snarled and strained at the leash. He wanted to dismember them, render them. He looked like the bronze bull on Wall Street. Lou’s jaws snapped out, the sound like axes biting into wood. I couldn’t hold on much longer and suddenly realized that he would kill these two. Lou and I advanced on the idiots. He stood up on his hind legs, growled, snapped and jabbed out with his front paws. “Hit the road or I let him go!” I didn’t need to repeat myself. As the leash began to slip from my hands they ran off like Monty Python characters and disappeared down Sunset Avenue, past Gold’s. A crowd of muscled men in front of the Gold’s Gym parking lot applauded. I hugged Lou, who was breathing hard and still worked up. “Good boy,” I said, choking up a little. “You did good.” Back at the Rose Café another crowd waited outside the parking lot entrance. They were all fond of Lou and he sensed it. He smiled and licked at them and understood now how some people were good and others bad, and that the best dogs could tell the difference, the best dogs could figure it out. He’d protected me and shown what he was capable of, that he had the courage and the judgment. I don’t think I’d ever felt as safe or loved in my entire life. I stopped at a Culver City 7-Eleven for a cup of coffee before my first afternoon tutoring session. Parked in the far-right parking space, I sipped coffee and poured over prep notes for my new student. Lou sat in the back of the Civic; I tried to bring him along whenever I had a new kid to win over. I’d popped open both back vent windows for Lou and had my driver’s side window cracked. Customers came and went; I didn’t pay much attention. Lou sniffed out the window to sample the air. When he took an interest in something, the volume and speed of his inhalations would ramp up for a few seconds to build up scent in his nasal cavity. Then he’d stop abruptly, like a sleep apnea patient. The pause let him savor the scent, in the way an oenophile swishes wine around in the mouth then stops to let it bathe the taste buds. His breathing ramped up. I focused on my notes. Lou let the odors settle in his nasal cavity to tell their story. Humans cannot smell bad intent. Lou could. A low rumble, like the detonations of a distant Harley. For a moment I could not identify it as dog-generated. But as it intensified it became plain that Lou was the source. I turned to look back at him. Lou stared intently out the window, his happy face gone, transformed into a Cujo snarl, lips pulled back to show bright, curved fangs. The aggression he’d shown with the dog-nappers had been overt and dramatic, but this was more primitive, as if he’d sensed a
“What type of vehicle are they driving?” “Old blue Pontiac convertible, maybe a LeMans.” “Can you read the plate number?” “No. I think it’s up on the dash.” She kept me on the line, asking questions, doing her job. Lou pulled my arm taut, growling and barking. “Quiet.” “Sir?” “Not you. I have my dog with me. He’s the one that alerted me to them in the first place.” “Is the dog under control sir?” “Yes,” I said. I hadn’t thought about that. What would the cops do upon seeing Lou seething and frothing on the end of my dislocated arm? “He is under control.” “Are the individuals still in the store sir?” They came out. The guy who’d looked at me walked by and stared at Lou. Lou erupted. “Sir, what is happening?” “No, Mary, I think I’ll have to re-schedule the meeting.” “Are they right there sir?” “That’s right, Mary,” I said, Lou straining and barking, spittle flying, the guy five feet away, his gun tucked into his front waistband. “Units are almost there sir. Are you safe?” “Don’t be silly, Mary.” He looked at me then Lou. I felt idiotic, and terrified. The guy stepped closer. I wanted to ask if he was in the Culver City Boyz. Lou was all that stood between me and a bullet. I felt like Gary Cooper drawing down on Frank Miller, not with a Colt .45 but with my beautiful, smart, lovable black-and-tan year-old Rottweiler mix, ready to spring, able to judge in an instant who was good and who was bad. Lou was enraged, and fearless. The guy looked me in the eye and closed the gap, giving Lou a chance. Two more steps and he’d never have the chance to pull his gun in time. I loosened my grip on Lou’s collar. He begged me to let go. “Venga!” the woman said, getting in the Pontiac. His hand rested on the grip, his eyes on Lou. I’m not sure what went through his head- he probably wondered if it was worth killing a dog and a man, or if he even had enough time to aim and fire before the brawny dog three feet away grabbed him by his skinny neck and throttled him. If he’d shot me first instead of Lou he would have been dog food. He sneered, let go the grip of the gun and headed for the car. I dropped the receiver and dragged Lou around the corner of the store, expecting a white-hot stab in the back. Nothing. The Pontiac rumbled to life and pulled out. No shots. I was alive. Lou was alive. I leaned against the wall and hugged Lou. His tension ebbed. “Jesus Christ Lou. Jesus Christ.” A cop came around the corner, gun drawn. Tall, tense, chest puffed out from his vest. I sat there hugging Lou, who smiled at
dogma
How had Lou known? I’ve asked myself that many times.... Had he smelled their nerves? What did an armed robber smell like?
Fetch this article on page 28
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seminal threat, something extraordinary. I felt transported back in time to some imminent primordial battle. Three passengers in an old blue Pontiac convertible parked beside us argued in Spanish. Though I understood some, I couldn’t make out what the row was about. Lou believed something bad was about to happen so I abandoned my notes and paid attention to the three young Latinos, two thin men and a short, heavy woman. The thin guy in the front passenger seat opened the Pontiac’s long, heavy door. I watched to ensure he didn’t dent my car. He turned his back on me and slammed the door shut. The grip and hammer of a large-caliber chromed revolver protruded from the waistband of his jeans. “Damn.” Lou’s rolling snarl ratcheted up. The guy pulled the gun from his waistband. It was a big gun. He took a step toward the front door then shot me a look that cooled my blood. “Hup,” I said to Lou. He jumped up into the front passenger seat. The guy’s eyes trailed off as he and the other two walked into the 7-Eleven. How had Lou known? I’ve asked myself that many times. Though dogs can often be race bigots, he certainly had no issues with Latinos, who regularly fed him enchiladas and chips at the Tacqueria. Had he smelled their nerves? What did an armed robber smell like? Perhaps he’d recalled a similar odor from puppyhood, when some irate property owner had taken a shot at him and his garbage-eating pack. I don’t know why he’d known. But had he not snarled out his warning I probably would have sat there with my nose buried in my notes, oblivious to the whole scene. I could have sat there and minded my own business, or driven away. But I didn’t like the idea of a minimum wage clerk getting his head blown off for a hundred bucks. And I’d always had a flair for the self-righteous, and evidently so did Lou. 1990 was pre-cell phone, so dialing 9-1-1 meant walking over to a bank of payphones just right of the entrance. A quick dial and a fast caveat to the operator—twenty seconds tops, I thought. “Come on Lou.” We went out the passenger door. I held Lou by his collar. His snarls telegraphed from his throat to the collar and into my hand. He had no intention of walking nicely. This time he pulled, hard. Something inside him, something new, rose to the occasion. He wanted to get in that store. He had a job to do. “Easy Lou,” I said, holding him with my left, grabbing the receiver with my right and setting it onto my shoulder. If I’d let go of him right then he’d have rocketed through the air to the door. “9-1-1, what kind of emergency are you reporting?” “Three armed Latinos just walked into the 7-Eleven on Washington Blvd., a few blocks north of Sepulveda.” “Where are you sir?” “At a payphone outside the store.” “Is that at Huron and Washington?” “I think so.” “Can you see them right now?” “No, they’re in the store. I saw one gun.” “Please stay on the line sir. Units are on their way.” “They’ll probably be out in a few seconds.” “Can you describe them sir?” “Three Latinos under twenty-five, two skinny males and a heavy female. White tee shirts I think. The guy in the front passenger seat had a large caliber revolver stuck into the waistband of his jeans. Chromed, maybe a .357.”
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eventy-year-old Gloria Richardson and her faithful black Labrador Murphy Brown managed to survive the onslaught of Hurricane Katrina inside their New Orleans home. Despite the heat and misery of the city in the days following the storm, Richardson had no intention of leaving Murphy. To the elderly woman, the dog was more than an animal—he was like her child, an emotionally attached piece of her.
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separation that came out of Katrina. Thousands of pets were left by their owners— some of whom believed they would only be gone a few days, others who simply had no means of taking their animals with them. It’s estimated that some 150,000 pets in the New Orleans area alone died in the weeks following the hurricane—a harsh reality that was documented in news stories at the time. But what about the animals like Murphy who were rescued? What happened to them? Filmmaker Geralyn Pezanoski asked herself “I kept telling him ‘I’m not going to leave without you. Mama’s that question in those months after Katrina. What resulted was not going to leave you,’” she recalls. a documentary called Mine, a gripping and emotionally charged Finally, with food running low and no drinking water, the Army piece of cinema that explores the bond between people and National Guard forced Richardson to evacuate on a bus bound for animals and our own perceptions of what it means to be a good a shelter in St. Louis. She couldn’t take Murphy with her. “That was pet owner. the hardest part of all, not knowing if I would ever see him again,” Like millions who watched the devastation in New Orleans, she says. “My heart was breaking in a million little pieces.” Pezanoski wanted to help however she could. The West Coast Murphy was rescued himself by one of the many organizations film producer flew to the city and spent several weeks developing that fanned out across the Gulf Coast to save pets after the hurricane. public service announcements to help raise funds for New OrleansBut with so many animals and so much chaos, the Lab got lost in the based animal welfare group The Humane Society of Louisiana. system, eventually ending up in California. By the time she arrived the human rescues were complete, Richardson and Murphy’s story is just one of By AJ Mistretta but what she saw was a city in ruin and an army of the many heartbreaking tales of human-animal
Continued on page 10
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Mine, Continued from page 8
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volunteers working around the clock to save as many animals as possible from the homes where they’d been left. For many of the poorer residents of New Orleans, getting themselves out of the city was hard enough, let alone making sure their animals were out of harm’s way. Those who had the means to evacuate often didn’t know what to do with pets, which weren’t allowed in shelters nor in many hotels. For other people stuck in places like the Superdome and the New Orleans Convention Center who had to be rescued in the aftermath, their pets were left to fend for themselves. Over the days and weeks following the storm thousands of animals were pulled out of homes and backyards, scared and starving. Pezanoski recalls one dog named Bubbles that was miraculously rescued eight weeks to the day after Katrina, barely clinging to life. The experience had a profound effect on Pezanoski. Before leaving New Orleans she decided she would foster one of the thousands of dogs being kept in a large makeshift shelter outside the city—an affectionate pointer-mix she named Nola. Pezanoski returned to California with a living reminder of her experience. But months later, she heard about a man named Malvin Cavalier, an octogenarian who had had to leave his dog Bandit when he fled to the Superdome. Bandit was the only companion Cavalier had left in the world after his wife died in 2003. Pezanoski looked at Nola, the dog she herself had adopted. “I realized that for so many people this was far from over,” she says. “They wanted their pets back but they didn’t know how to get them.” Pezanoski returned to New Orleans and began interviewing Cavalier, Richardson and others like them, individuals trying desperately to find out what had happened to their pets. What she uncovered was a complicated story. In the aftermath of Katrina, with the city still underwater, people weren’t allowed to return home for weeks. So as thousands of animals were being rescued all over the area, there was no way of reuniting them with their owners. Meanwhile the shelters where they were being housed were overflowing and rescuers were being told to halt their efforts because there was simply no where to put the animals. To continue the rescue, more than 15,000 pets were sent to 500 shelters and organizations all over the U.S. and Canada. There, the animals were cared for and their pictures and any identifiable information was posted on a Web site called Petfinders. com. But as weeks turned into months and the former owners didn’t come forward, the pets were often adopted out to new owners or individuals willing to foster them. That’s what happened to Cavalier’s dog Bandit and to Richardson’s Lab Murphy. Jessie Pullins tells a similar story. Pullins had evacuated 20 family members out of New Orleans prior to Katrina, but when the storm hit, he knew he had made a mistake leaving his dog J.J. “I often think about that moment, what it must have been like for J.J., how scared he was. And I wasn’t there,” Pullins says in the film. “I know I should have been there for him. I know that.” Pullins searched for J.J. for months and eventually learned the dog had been adopted out by a rescue organization in California. But the group refused to give him any information on the new owner, essentially arguing that he relinquished his rights when he left J.J. And that’s an issue at the heart of Mine. Pezanoski says a lot of the rescuers and others involved in animal welfare felt the pets who were rescued had been abandoned and weren’t being cared for properly anyway. They cited the fact that the majority of the dogs rescued were infected with heartworms and that many showed signs of abuse and neglect. The rationale was thus: if the animals that were left are now safe and being better cared for in new homes elsewhere around the country, the former owners have no the right to demand their return. Numerous lawsuits were filed, pitting loving new owners who have grown
Malvin Cavalier and Bandit
attached to their adopted pets against former owners. But Pezanoski says those individuals only saw half the story. They didn’t hear from people like Cavalier and Pullins, devoted owners who simply couldn’t get their animals out. “There was a lot of judgment happening, but I could understand where people on both sides were coming from,” Pezanoski says. “I tried not to insert my voice into the film. As much as possible I wanted to let the individuals speak for themselves.” Indeed the film involves many voices from various sides of the issue, from the volunteers who helped owners find their lost pets to the attorney working on behalf of one of the rescue groups fighting against a dog being returned to its former home. Pezanoski says her goal in making Mine was to show that there are many ways to look at this gut-wrenching situation. She hopes viewers come to understand that things aren’t as clear-cut as they might first appear—and she hopes the film brings to light the effects a tragedy such as Katrina has on animals and the people around them. After more than a year on the film festival circuit, Mine is now being screened in cities all over the country to help raise funds for local shelters and animal welfare groups. The film is being released on DVD in May.
“An emotional and deeply felt tribute to the powerful bond between dogs and humans.”—Garth Stein
If you have ever loved a dog, you will love Last Dog on the Hill. This is the moving story of Lou, a heroic dog whose bravery and big brown eyes touched the lives of everyone he met.
Available Everywhere June 22, 2010
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Love and a Promise
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H
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e hiked through the Arkansas Delta, across the Appalachians, over 11 rivers and through 14 states, faced down dog packs, and prevailed against Recluse spiders and legions of ticks. He led the first Canine Cancer Caucus in Washington, DC, appeared on the Today Show, filmed with Animal Planet, and celebrated two birthdays on the road. He has met hundreds of people and dogs, befriended thousands more, and to date walked over 2200 miles — all with a 100 pound backpack on his back and his two dogs by his side.
He’s Luke Robinson, and he’s walking with his two Great Pyrenees, Hudson and Murphy, from Austin, Texas to Boston, Massachusetts. Why? The simplest answer is love and a promise.
When Malcolm, Robinson’s first Great Pyrenees, was stricken with bone cancer at the age of 6, Robinson wanted to know why. When Malcolm lost his battle two years later, even after sacrificing a leg and enduring chemotherapy, Robinson was devastated. The deep love he felt for Malcolm, and the overwhelming loss he experienced, profoundly changed him. “I was not going to let his loss go in vain.” His personal tragedy also left him angry and puzzled. “No one could tell me why. Why are so many dogs dying from cancer? Why are so many dogs dying at younger ages? What are we doing wrong?” It was then that he promised Malcolm he would tell their story, and find out why he had been taken from him. “The inspiration that got me up and on the road was losing Malcolm. But what makes me motivated, what keeps me going, are all of the dogs I have met while on the road that have cancer or owners who have lost dogs to cancer.” But why walk? “Our goal is education, awareness and outreach. The best way to do that is to go out and talk to by Erich Trapp people. And dogs need someone to speak for them, to fight for them. That’s what I feel my mission is.” Walking
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“ For Traveling Dogs” Canine Covers provide a comfortable way for “man’s best friend” to travel, while helping to protect vehicle seating surfaces, floor, seatbacks and cargo area from pet hair, scuffing and “accidents”. Canine Covers are the ultimate seat protectors for people who travel with dogs and want to maintain the interior appearance of their car or SUV. Machine washable.
• Custom & Semi-Custom Seat Covers • Custom Cargo Area Travel Pads • The “Ultimate” Dog Beds
1-866-K9 COVER (592-6837)
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wags
Love and a Promise, Continued from page 12
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brings Robinson close to the animals and people he’s dedicated his life to help. It all came down to getting the word out in a way that would make people take notice. And that’s just what Robinson has done for the last two years. Moreover, since its inception in 2008, his organization, 2 Dogs 2000 Miles, has grown to focus not only on the startling rise in canine cancers and to work towards finding the causes of these cancers, but also to make people aware of the benefits of the emerging science of comparative oncology — that branch of medicine concerned with the study and treatment of cancers in companion animals and people. As Robinson’s walk grew, he encountered many people whose lives had been undone by cancer much as his own had. And Robinson’s own mother, herself a breast cancer survivor, had a significant effect on the direction his path would take. This awareness of the parallels between canine and human cancers made Robinson want to take his mission further. Realizing that companion animals and people develop strikingly similar cancers — they get brain, breast, bone and lung cancer, lymphoma and melanoma just to name a few — and that scientists have discovered that the malignant cells are biologically comparable — Robinson felt compelled to expand the scope of his organization. But how could he reach more people and make them understand the interconnectedness between canine and human cancers? How could he infuse total strangers with the passion he felt? How could he instill in people with healthy animals the urgency to be proactive rather than reactive? “Unfortunately,” Robinson says, “almost all the money for research is going towards cures, not causes, so all our efforts will be into causes and prevention.” With this in mind, Robinson conceived of the idea of 2 Million Dogs. If two dogs could walk over 2000 miles against cancer, surely two million dogs and their people could walk two miles to promote education, outreach, prevention, and research. So it was that 2 Million Dogs was formed on the heels of 2 Dogs 2000 Miles. Among other things, 2 Million Dogs will establish state and local chapters to coordinate yearly walks and other events across the country to fund projects for awareness, education, and research. They have already launched a “pledge your dog” campaign in anticipation of their first national event, and people are invited to pledge their dogs “to walk for hope” at their 2 Million Dogs web site: http://2milliondogs.org/. In the meantime, Robinson, Hudson, and Murphy are fastly closing in on Boston with less than 200 miles to go. Behind the
scenes, a small, dedicated team of volunteers is organizing events to celebrate their arrival and kick off the next part of the journey. The weekend-long Boston celebration to welcome The Boys back home leads off Friday night, June 18th with the Puppy Up! Reception, a casual meet-and-greet as people and their dogs from around the country come together, many of them meeting in person for the first time, to share their own stories. The next day, beginning at 9:30 am EDT, everyone will gather with their dogs for a memorial service and moment of silence in remembrance of all those loved ones, animal and human, touched by cancer. Everybody will then join with Robinson, Hudson, and Murphy as they all walk the final mile together into Boston, ending Robinson’s historic walk. But the day’s activities are only beginning. Starting at 11:00 am there will be a Puppy Up! Festival, a street-fair of food, live entertainment, pet photography, contests, display booths, and vendors specializing in all aspects of animal care and welfare. With so much to do, it promises to be a fun day of activities for the whole family, including, of course, the family dog. The day’s events culminate with the Puppy Up! Gala, which will take place from 6:00 to 11:00 pm at Boston’s luxurious and dog friendly Fairmont Copley Hotel. Robinson, by then having traded his hiking boots for dancing shoes, will be the guest of honor, along with Hudson and Murphy. Patrons will enjoy dinner, entertainment, guest speakers, and live and silent auctions. All proceeds from the evening’s events will go into launching 2 Million Dogs –“Cancer. Touches. Everyone. – Comparative Oncology: A New Hope in Cancer Research.” Finishing out the weekend will be Sunday’s roundtable, which Robinson will chair. He foresees the event as a kind of think-tank meeting of the minds. Discussions will focus on defining the future of 2 Million Dogs, identifying where energy and funding should go, and developing a call to action that will elicit people’s desire to become active and involved. Part of that future focus was set forth by Robinson during a recent Puppy Up! Walk in Newtown, Connecticut. There he asked, “What do we think are the top three things — top three environmental factors — that are causing cancer? Let’s identify those, let’s look at those, and let’s put some money into those studies.” Thus, with their arrival in Boston on June 19th, Robinson, Hudson, and Murphy will launch the next phase of their work. What started as a walk to discover what had taken Malcolm from him is
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wags fetch!
Dogit Design Gumi Dog
Dental health is vitally important to a dog’s overall health. To make dental care easier on owners and their dogs, the Hagen (USA) Corp. has developed a new line of dental toys that turn brushing time into playtime. Dogit Design Gumi Dog dental toys are designed specifically to clean a dog’s teeth as he chews on them. Dogit Design Gumi Dog dental toys are a fun, playful way to keep a dog’s teeth and gums clean and healthy between home brushing and veterinary cleanings. Available in three styles and three sizes, there is a Gumi Dog toy for every dog, regardless of size, breed or age. All of the toys have the exclusive Soft Gumi Texture that encourages continuous play and exercises the jaw muscles without damaging teeth. They also have gentle scrubbers that remove food and saliva that may linger on the surface of the teeth and soft waves to tenderly massage and stimulate blood flow to the gums, which keeps them strong and more disease-resistant. Available at pet retailers nationwide. Check them out at www.hagen.com
TropiClean Fresh breath made easy
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According to American Veterinary Medical Association, periodontal disease is the number one disease among both dogs and cats. Left unchecked, it can even threaten a pet’s life. Yet less than 20 percent of dog and cat owners take their pet to the vet for dental care or routinely brush their pets’ teeth.
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That’s because most oral care products require the use of a toothbrush. That’s why every pet parent is sure to appreciate TropiClean fresh breath made easy™ – a new generation of safe, natural products designed to make pet oral care exceptionally easy. For details, visit www.tropiclean.net
The Pet Corrector
In the wild, snakes and geese make a loud hiss to tell other animals to stay away, and pets have an instinctive sensitivity to the sound. The Company of Animals was inspired by this concept to create The Pet Corrector. Since its introduction, this ingenious device has become the number one training product for domesticated pets in the United Kingdom. The Pet Corrector emits a harmless blast of compressed air that makes a loud, hissing sound – a sound that has been shown to stop unwanted behaviours in dogs such as barking, jumping and chewing. When used responsibly and with the proper training procedures, the Pet Corrector can interrupt — and eventually stop — these undesirable actions. This innovative product comes complete with a detailed guide filled with helpful training tips.
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The DOOG Walkie Belt
Dog Owners Outdoor Gear created the DOOG Walkie Belt® to make walks more enjoyable as well as easier, cleaner and safer. It has a front zippered pockets to hold poop bags, sanitary wipes, money, keys and a cell phone, a separate rear pocket for dog treats, a clip for an iPod, a carabineer to attach a leash once the dog is let off, as well as other essentials, and a Velcro patch for a tennis ball. Every Walkie Belt comes pre-loaded with a complimentary pack of DOOG Tidy Bags and Wipes for cleaning up after the pooch and keeping hands germ-free. The belt retails for $29.99 and can be purchased online from www.bedbathandbeyond.com or www. amazon.com as well as from a variety of US retailers. Visit http://www.doog.com.au for a full list of retailers.
The Travel-tainer
If you have a dog on the go, the Travel-tainer is an ingenious travelling food storage container with two one-quart bowls conveniently attached for food and water. The TRAVEL-tainer keeps your pet food fresh, in an easy carry, airtight, food grade plastic container that transforms in seconds. Just remove the carry handle and pull off the food/water dishes. Twist off the top and pour. It’s perfect for quick trips or long trips. It is important to note that the colored bowls are dishwasher safe...the clear plastic container IS NOT. Only wash the clear container by hand. For more information, go to http://www.gamma2.net.
The Travel Buckle-Up from Canine Covers
The Chest panel spreads tension over the chest instead of around the neck with four web buckles providing maximum adjustment for comfort. The Travel Buckle-Up has side release buckle for easy on/easy off and it has a short web leash built into the back panel for use at “pit stops”. Hand wash and hang to dry. Retail prices start at $23. Go to www. caninecovers.com for more information.
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Will you be on the road this summer with your pooch? The Travel Buckle-Up is designed for your dog’s comfort in or out of the car. You know how important it is to buckle-up for safety every time you or your family gets into a car. It’s equally important to secure your pet for travel. AAA notes that unrestrained pets cause more than 30,000 accidents annually.
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dog-eared
dog-eared dogs and humans, and how dogs selflessly provide encouragement and motivation through the most trying of circumstances. By turns humorous, heartwarming and Kleenexworthy, these true stories, each accompanied by a photograph of the featured furry friend, trace how each dog helps its master cope with life-threatening diseases or chronic illnesses, drug addiction, death, abuse and life transitions. Set in both urban and rural environments, encompassing owners of all ages and featuring dogs who have been chosen by their owners (as well as those who simply showed up on doorsteps), these essays capture the innate understanding character of dogs and the positive role they can play in people’s emotional and physical recovery processes. Whether the dog is providing an impetus for getting out of an abusive relationship in “Pee Monster,” pushing an aimless hitchhiker toward self-realization in “On Laughter,” conveying a new perspective on empathy in “A Ray of Dogshine” or transcending mortality in “Winston’s Boy,” the stories comprising Good Dogs Doing Good illuminate and pay homage to the unique canine-human connection. Dog lovers and those looking for a Chicken Soup for the Soul-like spoonful of clarity alike will find Good Dogs Doing Good an enlightening and touching read.
SAVING GRACIE : How One Dog Escaped the Shadowy World Of American Puppy Mills By Carol Bradley (Howell Book House / ISBN: 978-0-470-44758-1 / Hardcover; $21.99 / March 2010) All of us dog enthusiasts and dog lovers have heard our fair share of puppy mill nightmare stories. Saving Gracie chronicles how one little dog is transformed from a bedraggled animal worn out from bearing puppies into a loving, healthy member of her new family; and how her owner, Linda Jackson, is changed from a person who barely tolerated dogs to a woman passionately determined not only to save Gracie’s life, but also to get the word out about the millions of American puppy mill dogs who need our help. Puppy mills have been around for decades and they are one of America’s most shameful secrets. It is a hidden world of substandard kennels, where dogs are caged like chickens and forced to produce puppies over and over, until they can produce no more. Saving Gracie traces this resilient dog’s journey out of a puppy mill, and tells the stories of the people who helped her along the way: from Cheryl Shaw, the humane society police officer who raided her kennel; to Lori Finnegan, the prosecutor who took Gracie’s breeder to court; to Pam Bair, who cared for Gracie in a shelter; and finally to Linda Jackson, the woman who gave her a permanent home.
MARCUS OF UMBRIA: What an Italian Dog Taught an American Girl about Love
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Good Dogs Doing Good : Lives Transformed by Man’s Best Friend
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Edited By Richard Day Gore and Juliann Grey (LaChance Publishing / In times of despair, humans reach for inspiration and support anywhere they can. Some naturally turn to beloved canine companions for assistance. Others, initially less aware of the power of the pup, end up forging dramatic friendships with dogs that enter their lives through chance. In Good Dogs Doing Good : Lives Transformed by Man’s Best Friend (LaChance Publishing, December 2009), edited by Richard Day Gore and Juliann Garey, 29 personal essays elucidate the essential and rewarding nature of relationships between
obinson By Lisa R
By Justine van der Leun (Rodale / ISBN: 978-1-60529960-0 / June 8, 2010) Love can strike at the most unexpected of times. For then 25-year-old Justine van der Leun it struck in 2006, on a gorgeous day in the countryside of Collelungo, Italy: population 200. Having fled both her hectic New York City magazine job and her cramped studio apartment to move in with an Italian man she met on a three-week vacation, it would only make sense that Justine would have love on the brain. What she did not bargain for is that the recipient of her intense love would not be Emanuele, her handsome gardener boyfriend, but Marcus, an abandoned hunting dog that she rescues from a rusty pen. In Marcus of Umbria, Justine van der Leun recounts with hilarity and emotion the year she spent living in an Umbrian farming village and discovering true love in the form of a neglected English Pointer. It does not take Justine long to figure out that Collelungo’s Italian culture
By Paul McGreevy (The Experiment / ISBN: 987-161519-018-8 /May 2010/$15.95), In this new dog behavior manual, animal behaviorist, veterinarian, and dog lover Paul McGreevy, PhD, MRCVS, offers an exciting new approach to owning and training a dog. Using humor, easy-to-follow instructions, and unforgettable characters, Dr. McGreevy takes readers on a walk in the paws of man’s best friend to help them understand the challenges and confusions dogs face living in the modern world. “The dog of the twenty-first century has to cope with many events, stimuli, and environmental complexities that its ancestors never had,” says Dr. McGreevy, an award-winning researcher who has worked with and studied animals professionally for over twenty years. His new approach—which he uses with his own three dogs (Wally, Tinker, and Neville, pictured on the book’s cover)—is based on picturing ourselves as life coaches, giving our dogs opportunities to get the best out of this new modern life, and rather than that of master, “alpha dog” or leader, while at the same time ensuring our dogs do what we want them to do. He believes this life coach role is more honest, exciting, and unique—for both the owner and the dog— and stresses the importance of understanding one’s dog in order to train it with greater success. Throughout the book Dr. McGreevy draws on the latest research on dog behavior as well as his own expertise to explain why dogs behave the way they do, why aspects of our behavior are mystifying
Tea and Dog Biscuits: Our First TopsyTurvy Year Fostering Orphan Dogs By Barrie Hawkins (Chicago Review Press / ISBN: 9781569763414 / May 2010) The devotion given by man’s best friend is not always reciprocated. Fortunately, an honorable few are always willing to house and heal orphaned dogs when this love is betrayed. Tea and Dog Biscuits: Our First Topsy-Turvy Year Fostering Orphan Dogs follows a year in the life of author Barrie Hawkins and his wife, Dorothy, as they rescue homeless dogs and provide a loving home until a fitting family comes along in search of unconditional love and loyalty. According to the American Humane Society, shelters euthanize roughly 56 percent of the dogs that enter the facilities, and kennels can cost hundreds of dollars a week. With more and more families facing financial difficulties that force them to give up their beloved pets, fostering is needed now more than ever. In Tea and Dog Biscuits, despite his lack of experience, Hawkins faces this grim reality head-on, offering necessary sanctuary in the English countryside for abandoned dogs—but not without encountering obstacles. Within weeks of their decision to foster dogs, large breeds of homeless dogs begin to arrive at their country estate, bringing charming and comedic chaos into their lives. Even before the rescue plan is fully concocted, Hawkins gains three precocious new family members—Monty, Pearl and Claude— gargantuan German shepherds. The doggie door to the Hawkins haven is always open—welcoming all canines and their baggage— whether the dog’s homeless owner could not afford its food, a dying companion could not find it a home or a remorseful buyer lost his patience. Hawkins’ devotion to and aptitude for his four-legged friends are shown in his mission statement: Every dog deserves proper care, every dog deserves an owner who understands its character and euthanasia is not an option. In doing his work, author Hawkins creates compatible companions, such as Peter Thomas and his German shepherd Millie. After losing his spouse and with his children grown, Thomas wants to do something good in the world, so he adopts a pet from Hawkins. Millie is his perfect match, his reason to look forward to each day; in the end, Millie saves Peter just as much as he saves her. Combining a timely topic with a charming story, Tea and Dog Biscuits is filled with helpful tips on caring for dogs and illuminates the adventure and pandemonium involved in starting and maintaining a dog shelter. This book is both amusing and heartwarming. A great summer 2010 read.
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A Modern Dog’s Life: How to Do the Best for Your Dog
to dogs, and why dogs may never comprehend some of our tendencies. “My aim with this book is to help people get to know what motivates their dogs, as well as what’s important to them,” says Dr. McGreevy, “and it will ensure that their dogs get the best possible life and that they get joy and satisfaction as owners.”
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doesn’t come in the traditional form of Renaissance art; rather, it comes in the form of sparrow-shooting, horse-wrangling, and pig-butchering. She sets about ingratiating herself with Emanuele’s large family and immersing herself in the local customs and language; soon she is speaking Italian fluently–alas, a rural Umbrian dialect that has non-Umbrians gaping every time she opens her mouth. To further complicate matters, she unknowingly picks up the town elders’ habit of adding a short nasal “eh” to the end of every sentence “Pass me the bread, eh?” “You cannot continue to say ‘eh,’” Emanuele cautions her one day. “You sound like my grandfather, but more rude.” With bird-obsessed Marcus always at her side, Justine tries unsuccessfully to fit in with the locals, learning to iron shirts to perfection and making meatballs worthy of a man’s dinner. But she discovers she does not really care about these tasks. She has neither the heart for the seasonal wild boar hunt nor the native’s knack for finding wild mushrooms—and will never be the kind of woman who lights her man’s post-dinner cigarettes for him. After a year, Justine leaves Collelungo. She takes with her a newfound knowledge of language and family, a deep-rooted passion for animals and nature, and a small, spotted best friend named Marcus.
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Writer Ken Foster is a resident of New Orleans and a prolific writer/storyteller. He is also a lover and a rescuer of dogs…one breed in particular, Pit Bulls. He founded the Sula Foundation, www. sulafoundation.org, named after his beloved pup Sula, who passed away in early May. This from Ken: Early this week, my dog Sula passed away. This is the kind of thing for which you can never prepare yourself; I wake up every day to find a blank spot in my daily routine. The house is too quiet. The other dogs don’t know what to do. I know that Sula meant a lot to other people too, which is why I am sharing this news publicly (in an essay at Salon.com below), while at the same time mourning privately. At some point in the future, we will have an event to celebrate her life and her legacy. Sula showed up on St. Patrick’s Day in 2004. In the past six years: she has been the subject of a memoir and numerous news features and essays; she has appeared on television interviews in New Orleans, Gulfport, and Memphis. She was a guest at the St. Louis Film Festival and discussed on NPR’s Fresh Air. Her image was plastered on large posters all around the city of Los Angeles. Her story has been translated into Turkish and Japanese. She had a very full life and helped to save the lives of countless other pit bulls around the country and the world. More than that, I loved her and she loved me. And I miss her.
NEW ORLEANS’ LIFE AS A DOG
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The Gulf oil spill devastates my city as I lose a beloved pup, and I’m reminded: You don’t get to choose to move on On Monday, as I walked my dogs through our neighborhood in the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, an enormous flock of seagulls accompanied us in the sky, swooping down to the streets, scavenging for food along the gutters, and screeching to each other with alarm. It isn’t unusual to see gulls around town, but this was an unusually large number, and I imagined they had been chased inland by the growing Gulf oil spill, the same way they get chased in by hurricanes or other enormous storms. We are used to displacement here. We still measure things as before or after Katrina, as if there is somehow a possibility of moving
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back in time and slipping into the still familiar order of life before the storm. Perhaps that is why I regarded the misplaced gulls as simply a fact rather than a tragedy. Or more likely I was distracted by the fact that for one of the gaggle of dogs at the end of the leash, this would be a final walk before going to the vet to be put down. This was new to me. In spite of volunteering in make-shift shelters after Katrina, and the dozens of pit bulls I rescued since the storm, I always managed to avoid this final part of the story. There were dogs that you knew weren’t going to make it, but this time I would be in the room. I wanted the dog in question to have the best day possible, and I wanted to pretend that I was ready for this, too. I wanted to pretend that I was thinking clearly, and that none of my judgment had been clouded by any of the growing mess around us, the oil spill in the ocean, and my own mysteriously deteriorating heart. It had been just two weeks since I had returned home after suffering an arrhythmia at the gym, being defibrillated by EMTs, and spending nearly a week trapped in the overflow wing of an incompetent hospital waiting for someone to do the tests that would establish what was wrong and send me home with a new pacemaker, an internal defibrillator and a variety of medications, including Rush Limbaugh’s favorite pain pills. In my mind I plotted the course of the events, trying to establish a timeline: the collapse of my heart function, the explosion off at sea, the daily hemorrhaging of 200,000 gallons of oil into our fragile ecosystem and economy, and the life of a dog. While I was walking the dogs, another class of New Orleanians were gathered downtown, celebrating the inaugural of Mayor Mitch Landrieu, who we all hope will turn things around simply by virtue of his not being C. Ray Nagin. It was a day of celebration, but the oil spill was on everyone’s mind -- what would be lost, what would be required of us. Later in the day, the vet would come into the room where I cradled the dog in my arms. “Just let me know when you are ready,” he would say, and I would answer, “We’re ready,” not because we were, but because there wasn’t any other option. Are you ready for another evacuation? Are you ready to rebuild the city? Are you ready to volunteer to clean? We always answer yes, not because we are actually ready, but because we have no choice if we want to move on. Perhaps it is this bravado that confuses the more simple-minded people like Rush Limbaugh, who earlier this
When the spirit that answered your every mood Is gone--wherever it goes--for good, You will discover how much you care, And will give your heart for the dog to tear.
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week suggested pain pills as a solution to the BP mess, or the Los Angeles Times, who recently published a story with the headline, “Gulf oil spill: The Big Easy takes the news with a shrug.” It isn’t lack of caring that makes us act this way; it is caring perhaps too much. Life in New Orleans has a wide dynamic range, with elaborate celebrations merging imperceptibly with tragedy on a daily basis. Over the past two weekends, people crowded the Fairgrounds for the second weekend of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, loading up on music and particularly on seafood, aware that it might be a long time before we have it again. There’s something a bit off about eating excessive amounts of seafood for fear that the creatures will be killed at sea, but that didn’t stop anyone. I sampled crawfish enchiladas, crawfish bisque, bowls of gumbo, oyster salad and on the way home, picked up three pounds of fresh Louisiana shrimp which I immediately froze to unpack and cook at some future date. We have, as a region, learned in the last few years how to weather a disaster that has no clearly defined end. You try to remain pokerfaced. You try to focus on moving ahead. You try to act certain of what to do, even as the news provides an animation of your entire coastline turning from blue to black. Even as you watch the life drain from a dog that you loved. So I returned to clock into work at NOCCA, the high school for creative arts, and was greeted by a colleague who recognized my cracked expression and asked, “How are you doing?” There was no point in lying any more. “Kind of awful,” I said. “Is it the oil spill?” she asked. “Maybe,” I said. “Maybe it is.” Ken Foster is the author of a memoir, The Dogs Who Found Me, a collection of stories, The Kind I’m Likely to Get, and essays, Dogs I Have Met.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way, When it comes to burying Christian clay. Our loves are not given, but only lent, At compound interest of cent per cent. Though it is not always the case, I believe, That the longer we’ve kept ‘em, the more do we grieve: For, when debts are payable, right or wrong, A short-time loan is as bad as a long-So why in Heaven (before we are there) Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
The intelligence of a Poodle and the loyalty of a Lassie. The bark of a Shepherd and the heart of a Saint Bernard. The spots of a Dalmatian, the size of a Schnauzer, and the speed of a Greyhound. A genuine, All-American Mutt has it all. —ASPCA slogan
SEPARATE LIFETIMES
by Rudyard Kipling
There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Buy a pup and your money will buy Love unflinching that cannot lie-Perfect passion and worship fed By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart for a dog to tear. When the fourteen years which Nature permits Are closing in asthma, or tumor, or fits, And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs To lethal chambers or loaded guns, Then you will find--it’s your own affair-But...you’ve given your heart for a dog to tear. When the body that lived at your single will, With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
— Irving Townsend, “The Once Again Prince”
I would like, to begin with, to say that though parents, husbands, children, lovers and friends are all very well, they are not dogs. In my day and turn having been each of the above,-except that instead of husbands I was wives,-I know what I am talking about, and am well acquainted with the ups and downs, the daily ups and downs, the sometimes almost hourly ones in the thin skinned, which seem inevitably to accompany human loves. Dogs are free from these fluctuations. Once they love, they love steadily, unchangingly, till their last breath. —Elizabeth Von Arnim All the Dogs of My Life
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THE POWER OF A DOG
We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle; easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we would still live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the neccesary plan....
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tricks
Creating A Woof-derful Pet Sitter Relationship
P
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lanning your family vacation is always a fun and exciting process, and at points, sometimes challenging. Deciding on pet care during your travels can be the most difficult decision to make.
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of an empty household. The key to a great, stressfree relationship with your sitter is knowing what to look for when beginning your search.
Finding Your Pet Sitter When searching for a pet sitter, I recommend using the pet sitter locator on the National Association of Professional Pet Sitters’ (NAPPS) website, www. petsitters.org. On the main page of the site, pet parents can enter his or her zip code and immediately get a list of pet sitters who service their area. Another great resource is contacting your veterinarian or asking friends for recommendations. Pet parents can also contact their local chamber of commerce for pet sitting referrals.
Boarding facilities offer a wide range of accommodations. State of the art boarding facilities are more like luxury pet hotels with spacious suites, abundant activities, closed circuit cameras and an ever ready pack of energetic playmates. Often, pet parents opt to leave their dog in his home, a familiar, comfortable environment. A professional pet sitter provides piece of mind to traveling pet parents by caring for their two most precious things, their pets and their homes. This allows the pets Make sure your pet sitter is a professional to stay in the comforts of their homes and enjoy their familiar Not all pet sitters are created equal. When searching for your pet sitter, environment, which alleviates stress, as well as aids in the transition it is vital to find a professional. The pet sitting industry is like a teenager. of the pet acclimating to a new caregiver. Hiring a professional pet It has been around for a little while, and people know about it; sitter allows the pet to maintain its normal routine. however, not all aspects of the industry have fully matured. Pet parents are pleased they do not have to There are no formal regulations for pet sitters. Unlike depend on their neighbors or friends to care By Monica Leighton, other service industries, you do not have to show for their home, as pet sitters provide mail, President of the National proof of insurance to get a business license for newspaper, trash and plant services, as well as Association of Professional a pet sitting company. This is why it is important added security benefits, such as alternating lights Pet Sitters (NAPPS) for the pet parent to know what to look for when and blinds in the home to alleviate the appearance hiring a professional pet sitter.
Ever wonder what your dog is really thinking? Well, wonder no more!
Kat put Krazy Glue on plant.
Again.
From the creators of the New York Times bestseller
I Can Has Cheezburger?
comes a new book that says it all in over 200 photos with funny, misspelled captions.
For this I kill you in your sleep
Wh . . . What kinna snacks?
Available in paperback and as an eBook www.ihasahotdog.com
FETCH!
Urban Dog swag! Tees Sweaters Apron Mugs Totes Cards and more.... Get in touch with your inner dog! Order online at www.cafepress.com/ urbandogs
Hachette Book Group
tricks wags
The difference between a “hobby” sitter and a professional pet sitter can easily be identified by checking to ensure the sitter is licensed, bonded and insured. Making sure your sitter is insured and bonded is essential to the well being of your home and possessions, as well as the direct care of your pet.
Interviewing with Ease Pet parents are always encouraged to interview multiple pet sitters before deciding on the sitter who is the best fit for their family. Before interviewing your pet sitter, sit down and plan your pet’s needs, so you can communicate them to the sitter. Develop a list of questions to ask your sitter before they arrive for the interview, to make sure you have not forgotten anything once the interview begins. A professional pet sitter should have no objection to a pet parent interviewing multiple sitters, and if they do, you need to ask yourself if this person is someone you want caring for your pet. Always ask your sitter to provide references, as well as contact information, for a client or two who you can contact to ensure their happiness with the sitter’s past service. Above all, watch how the potential pet sitter interacts with your pet. Examine how comfortable your pet is with the different sitters. Often, your pet will greatly help you make your decision by their reactions to the sitter. Another item to consider when interviewing potential sitters is that, as you get started, you may find multiple sitters who are qualified. What I usually suggest at that point is looking at additional information. Is that pet sitter a member of any national associations or chambers of commerce? Does the pet sitter attend any pet sitting conferences to enhance his or her continuing education? Has the sitter completed any type of certification? Does the pet sitter have a disaster plan? These questions will help you make a decision.
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Communication is Key
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The more information your sitter is given, the better the relationship becomes. If there are areas in the house that are off-limits to your pets, the sitter needs to be aware of them. Does your pet have a certain route it likes to take during walks? Does your pet have any fears or phobias, perhaps a fear of thunderstorms or a certain child down the road? These facts are very important for your pet sitter to know. Emergencies can always arise. Prepare your sitter by communicating all of your household emergency shut-offs such as water valves and circuit boxes. Also, make sure your sitter has the names and numbers of your service technicians such as your plumber, heating and air conditioning company and electrician. If your home has a security alarm, make sure that your sitter has an identification code and password for the alarm company. Pet sitters are also great at providing your pet with their personal preferences. Do you have a kitty that dines using a china setting with a linen napkin at the formal dining room table and is called to dinner by ringing a bell? Perhaps a 6-foot long green lizard named Fred who has free roam of the house and likes to be rocked to sleep, and heaven forbid if Congo the African Gray does not get his Jimmy Hendricks... This is just another day in the life of a professional pet sitter.
Planning your Departure Before you head out the door for vacation, make sure you sitter is well-supplied. Have an extra key made for your sitter, and make sure you test the key before giving it to the sitter. It is also a good idea to have another key made for an emergency contact.
Your pet sitter should have you sign a veterinary release form, giving them permission to have your pet treated if any illness occurs in your absence. It is also recommended that pet parents contact their veterinarian to let them know the sitter will be caring for the pet, and speak to them about protocol for treating pets whose parents are away. Some offices allow the sitter to come in and bill the pet parent for the service, while other offices expect a payment in full immediately from the sitter. The office also might allow the pet parent to provide a credit card to keep on file for an emergency while they are traveling. Purchase enough food, litter and medications for your pet to cover the entire length of your stay, as well as enough for a couple extra days beyond your expected return date as a precaution. Make sure your sitter knows where all your cleaning supplies are located for items such as mops, brooms, vacuums, trash bags, dust pans, sponges and disinfectants. If your carpets or furniture can only be cleaned with certain solutions, make sure your sitter is aware. Check the perimeter of your yard, especially if you have fences, to make sure everything is secured. Check your pet’s collar to ensure it fits properly, and your dog is not able to pull off the collar. Most importantly, make sure all your pets are identified and microchipped. Once all of these items are in place, you can relax and have a great vacation knowing your pet and your home are in very capable hands.
About NAPPS NAPPS is a national non-profit trade association dedicated to promoting the welfare of animals. The Association aims to help the pet owning public, those interested in pet sitting, and professionals engaged in the in-home pet care industry by fulfilling its vision statement, “To be the most respected authority in professional pet sitting.” It does so by providing the tools and support to foster the success of its members. Additionally, pet parents can benefit from NAPPS’ free resources including a disaster preparedness guide, tips on how to select a pet sitter, nationwide referral service, and quarterly teleconferences aimed to educate the pet owning public. To find a pet sitter in your area, check out NAPPS’ nationwide “Pet Sitter Locator” at www.petsitters.org. For more information on NAPPS you can follow @TheNAPPS on Twitter on Facebook at facebook.com/TheNAPPS.
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ask dog lady
g o d ask y d a l Visit www.askdoglady.com to ask a question, make a comment, or listen to segments from Dog Lady’s radio show. Follow Ask Dog Lady on Twitter at twitter.com/askdoglady. Dear Dog Lady, I am a single woman, never married, 50-ish. Almost six years ago, I adopted a puppy and my dog changed my life. I know you’ve heard it all before, but my Muggles, a rescue Husky/Lab mix, got me out of myself enough to meet a real man. I’m still adjusting to being in a couple. Recently, a friend called and invited me and “your beloved” for dinner. I thought she was really sweet to include Muggles because many dog-less friends make it clear they do not want animals in their homes. Imagine my surprise when Muggles and I showed up and my friend groaned as she opened the door. “You brought your dog?” she asked in disbelief. “I told you to bring your `beloved.’ I meant your new boyfriend,” she said. I was rattled. I haven’t yet told my new boyfriend that Muggles is still uppermost in my mind as my “beloved.” I fear I’ve lived with my dog for so long I can’t allow a human into my heart. What do you think? —Ann, New Orleans, LA
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Dear Ann, tell your man about the incident and keep your sense of humor. Such a confession about how you mentally misplaced his invitation to the dinner will inevitably bring you two closer together. There is nothing wrong with you. You’ve just lived with a dog for more human years than with a person. One of your most attractive qualities is your affection for your pet, although your bond with Muggles could be a mystery to your new boyfriend if he isn’t a “dog person.” The more time he spends with you and your dog, the more he will understand. You’re working out a new romantic dynamic. Don’t rush. Remember when you got your puppy? It probably took months and years for you to feel trust and comfort with Muggles. So it is with your human sweetheart — not your dog sweetheart. There will be tension, but communication, understanding, biscuits, and laughter will help you grow into any relationship.
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Dear Dog Lady, My nine-year-old collie pants all the time. I have spent close to $7,000 on different vets. Her heart and lungs are OK. She does not have Cushing’s disease and we had nose biopsies showing she had a nose bacteria, which we gave her meds for. The veterinarians are at a loss. I know you are not a vet but I was wondering if any of
your readers have experienced this problem with any of their dogs. I don’t know how to proceed from here. Can this panting, even when it is moderate temperature be a normal happening in some dogs? —Marilyn, Cleveland OH Dear Marilyn, your sweet collie has been poked, prodded, medicated and biopsied up and down the wazoo. You deserve praise for seeking out veterinary care and paying the bills. Now, let her relax. Often, when a dog pants and appears anxious, the best cure is a good walk in the sunshine, a run in the park, and a marathon sniff in a smelly venue. Your collie needs fresh air away from the doctor’s office. Dear Dog Lady, My partner, Al, and Tally, our just-adopted Cairn terrier, haven’t quite bonded yet. Al is a bit impatient and although he hand-feeds her, she tends to growl and show teeth when he tries to play with her. I am sensing a bit of jealousy on both sides: Al: Why does the dog like John better than me? Why doesn’t she jump in my lap and kiss my face? Tally: Who is this guy? I want John all to myself. Three’s a crowd. Oh, the burden of the pack leader. Please tell me how to break the cycle. —John, Chicago IL Dear John, enjoyed your cute couplet about the drama between Al and Tally but you shouldn’t worry your handsome head about the Al-Tally dealings. You break the cycle by allowing these two enough space to work out their own relationship. And if there’s jealousy on both sides, the crackle of contempt should ease into the warmth of acceptance over time. Yes, being a pack leader is a burden but it’s an enjoyable task as you’ve figured out. As part of these head-honcho responsibilities, advise Al to stop hand-feeding Tally. She needs her own big-girl bowl. Oh sure, he should slip her a treat occasionally to reward her for doing something great – and, quite frankly, to bribe her for cozying up to him. Al should also be the one to put down the kibble bowl for awhile so Tally expects great things from him.
~Ambrose Bierce
A cat, after being scolded, goes about its business. A dog slinks off into a corner and pretends to be doing a serious self-reappraisal. ~Robert Brault,
In orde r to him to b really enjoy a do e the poss semi human. T g, one doesn’t merely ibility o he poin tr t f becom ing part of it is to open y to train ly a dog oneself ~Edwar . to d Hoagl and
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love to s g o d d n mans a , and Both hu nto adulthood ies ll i pec play we ls from both s nce ua de individ lly display evi a n occasio a conscience. g of havin on Winokur ~J
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bites
The most affectionate creature in the world is a wet dog.
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urban dog • 33
wags
Dogma, Continued from page 7
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the cop and began to wag his tail. He didn’t seem to mind the cop’s gun at all. “Are you Steve Duno?” he asked, gun still drawn. “Yes sir. And this is my dog Lou. He saved my life.” Other units pulled up; soon the place was alive with officers. Lou pranced around. I rubbed his neck. Happy Lou was back. After explaining what happened to several officers, a plain clothes detective handed me a coffee and questioned me. “Did anyone get hurt inside?” I asked. “No shots were fired,” he said, his hand finding Lou’s head. He definitely owned a dog. “Did they rob the store?” “I can’t go into details. But you did great. And your dog too,” he added, cupping Lou’s face in his hands and looking down at him. “Good-looking dog.” “He saved my life.” “Maybe he did.” I told him what had happened when the three came out of the store. He looked down at Lou again. “Maybe he should work for us.” A uniformed officer came over and spoke to the detective. In a moment he came back over to me. “The suspects you described were pulled over on Venice Blvd. a minute ago. We need you to ID them. Can you do that?” “Can I drop Lou off at the house first?” “No time. Just take him with you in the unit.” “I see Culver City Boyz around here all the time. I don’t want to get shot buying a burrito on Sepulveda.” “They’re not Culver City Boyz. Their plates ran back to Torrance. And the Culver City Boyz would never rob a 7-Eleven on their own turf. If they found out, you and your dog would be heroes.” “Okay, I’ll do it,” I said. I’ll rat out the rival gang, those bastards. “You’ll be in the unit the whole time, and we’ll shine the spotlight on them. They won’t see you at all.” “Let’s do it.” Lou and I climbed into the back seat of a black-and-white. We headed east on Washington to Overland, made a left then turned east onto Venice. A few blocks up in the median I saw police activity. “They didn’t get far,” I said to the cops. Lou sat beside me, ears perked, sniffing at the shotgun, looking like a rookie K-9 officer. “Not many old Pontiac convertibles around,” the driver said. “They should have taken the freeway,” I said as we pulled up, the Pontiac on our left. Lou became animated and attentive. When he saw the three suspects cuffed and leaned up against the convertible he woofed out a few times and started to grumble. “That’s proof enough for me,” said the driver. “He really does not like them,” I said. The three looked scarcely out of high school. An officer outside had them line up and face our car. Lou flexed, growled and wedged his wet nose out the cracked-open window as the driver of our unit turned the car’s spotlight onto the suspects, who seemed undaunted, almost bored. The skinny kid tried to turn from the light but the cop shook his head and pointed to our car. “Are they the ones?” “Oh yeah. And the skinny kid on the left—he had the revolver.” “Are you sure it was a revolver?” asked the passenger cop.
“Chrome or nickel-plated, big caliber, black grip.” The cops looked at each other and smiled. “That’s it. Good job. We’ll take you back to your car now.” Back at the 7-Eleven Lou and I said our goodbyes to the two cops. “You’ll probably get a call from the detectives in a few days,” said the driver. “Will I have to testify?” “I doubt it. They got caught red-handed, and they were armed. The clerk indentified them too.” “Thanks guys.” “Great dog. He’s still young; he could be a great police dog.” “I think today’s experience will suffice.” They both shook my hand and gave Lou rubs on his head. He grinned and licked at them. “Rower,” he chortled, sniffing intently at both cops’ legs. “You guys must have dogs at home.” “Shepherd.” “Lab.” “He knows,” I said. “Thanks.” We got in the car and drove home. I cancelled my tutoring sessions for the evening then got down on the floor with Lou, who chewed lazily on a bone beside me, like nothing had happened. I felt like calling Nancy but decided to wait. I wanted to be there with Lou for a while.
Love and a Promise, Continued from page 14 now growing into a nationally recognized organization dedicated to building collaborative efforts among individuals, groups, communities and institutions that seek to find the causes of cancer. It’s clear that this is just the beginning of Robinson’s lifelong dedication — to bring others together in the true spirit of cooperation for the good of everyone so that there is less suffering and loss. “I will continue to walk, and will not stop walking, until we eradicate cancer. That I can assure you. In one form or another, this is a life-long commitment — 2 Dogs 2000 Miles is just the beginning.” So, while the walk from Austin to Boston is almost at an end, the journey has just begun, all because of love and a promise. Pulling on a small silver charm that he always wears around his neck, a charm filled with some of Malcolm’s ashes, Robinson adds, “It’s really been four of us all along. Malcolm’s with us every day. I promised him that I would commit the rest of my life to finding out what took him from me, and that’s a promise I fully intend to keep.” Look for Robinson, Hudson, and Murphy appearing in “Dogs 101”on Animal Planet coming this fall. To learn more about 2 Dogs 2000 Miles and how you can get actively involved, please visit their websites at: http:// www.2dogs2000miles.org/ and http://2milliondogs.org/ or contact Ginger Morgan at ginger@2dogs2000miles.org. For more information on the Boston events, or to donate or become a sponsor, please visit: http://tinyurl.com/y2grqtq. And to really grasp the enormity of the Walk and how far the three have come, look at the map and see where they have been and how close they are to home: http://www.communitywalk. com/2dogs2000miles. Puppy Up! (Puppy Up!® is Robinson’s take on ‘man up’ or ‘cowboy up,’ and perfectly describes the undaunted spirit of the dog.)
the inner dog
Bo Obama’s Inner Dog
The entire world waited to meet the “First Dog” after President Obama promised his daughters, Malia and Sasha, a new puppy the night he was elected. Bo was given to President Obama and his family as a gift from Senator Ted Kennedy who owned another puppy from the same litter. The handsome tuxedo-marked Portugese water dog’s first day in the White house was April 14, 2009. Bo’s given (AKC) name is Amigo’s New Hope, but the Obama family named him Bo for two different reasons: Michelle Obama’s father’s nickname was “Diddley,” and Malia and Sasha’s sina ry Mes o ll a M cousins have a cat named Bo, as well as another cat By named Diddley.
When Bo isn’t frolicking on the South Lawn with the President, he can be found posting stories on his official White House Blog, Good Boy Bo (www.goodboybo.com), where he shares stories from inside the White House…from the First Dog’s point of view. Though we typically ask the owner to answer our Inner Dog Questionnaire, Bo asked to answer himself (since his Master is very busy running a nation), so we made an exception. As far as great interviewees for Inner Dog, Bo definitely gets our vote, and we are honored to feature the White House Dog in Urban Dog Magazine. We hope you enjoy his answers as much as we did. What is his idea of perfect happiness? There’s nothing I like more than to play “catch the Frisbee” with my Master on the South Lawn. It’s a very large area, which lets me run as fast I want. Master is very good at throwing Frisbees. He doesn’t much like it when I return it to him covered in slobber,
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A
s top dog in the nation, Bo Obama is involved in everything from world peace talks to playing in the White House garden with the First Lady.
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the inner dog but he’s a pretty good sport about it. He also likes to throw footballs to me, but I have a difficult time picking it up. One time he tried to play catch with a basketball, but that didn’t work at all. What is his favorite treat? My favorite treats are Scooby Snacks. Master keeps a box of them in his desk. But my very special secret snacks are the tomatoes that Mom grows in her garden. Yum! Tomatoes are juicy, delicious and messy. Mom doesn’t like it when I poach her prized vegetables, but you can’t blame me, can you? Mom yelled at me once when brought her a tomato that wasn’t ripe, but I rolled over and she wasn’t mad any more. If he could change one thing about himself, what would it be? I’m mostly housebroken, but not always. There’s a really nice smelly spot in a corner of the Treaty Room which I can’t help but lift my leg upon and squirt a little pee. I know I shouldn’t do it, but I just can’t stop myself. I’d love to change that habit, but I don’t know what to do. I’m sure that previous animals in the White House made that their favorite spot, too, because I can smell them. Arf! What is his most treasured possession? That’s an easy one. I have an old slipper that once belonged to Master. I sleep with it every night. It smells so wonderful. A few months ago, a White House housekeeper mistook it for garbage and threw it out. I was very sad and growled at everyone. When they figured out what was wrong, my keepers rummaged through the trash until they found it. Whew! Close call.
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What is his most endearing quality? I have many endearing qualities. I’m very well behaved. I know several tricks, especially giving “high fives” to humans. I’ve learned not to bark at strangers; Mom doesn’t like it when I do that, of course.
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Assuming there is such a thing as reincarnation, what or who might he have been in a former life? I’m pretty sure I was a squirrel in my past life. Or at least I hope so. I admire them so much, but don’t tell them that. I see them all the time on the South Lawn. They scamper up trees when I get close to them. Sometimes they throw acorns at me. But they are very free and agile. They climb way up the trees which is something I wish I could do. They can also squeeze through the White House gates and explore the outside world which is something I hardly ever get to do
unless I accompany the family to Camp David, which is one of my very favorite places to go. Is there anything that embarrasses him? The only thing that embarrasses me is when people try to figure out if I’m a male or a female. Doesn’t everyone know I’m a boy? That’s silly. But, still, people try to look under my tail to figure out my gender. Usually, those are foreign dignitaries who check me out. Grrr…. What is it that he dislikes most? I don’t like shots. Hate them! I see a veterinarian on a frequent basis, and he’s always giving me shots. I don’t think I’m going to catch any diseases at the White House, but they want to make sure. I suppose they’re nervous about something I might pick up at Camp David. What is his greatest fear? The thing I fear the most is that my family will leave. They do it a lot, actually. Last year, they went to Hawaii for a vacation and left me all alone in the White House. The housekeepers and groundskeepers took good care of me, of course. They gave me special treats and lots of love. But I missed my family. When they are gone, I roam to the residence and feel very sad. What is his greatest accomplishment? I haven’t made any great accomplishments yet. I’ve only been the First Dog for a year. As soon as I get some experience, I’m going to run for the Big Enchilada of the South Lawn Animal Kingdom. What is his favorite place? My favorite place is napping in the Big Round Room. That’s where Master works. I have a plush bed next to Master’s large desk. I can pretty much rest there all day if I want. I get to hear a lot of important conversations in that room. I tell a lot of what I hear in my daily online journal: www.GoodBoyBo.com. What does he really like in other dogs? Sadly, I don’t get to meet many other dogs. Hardly ever. Mostly, the only animals I meet are those who live on the South Lawn, like the squirrels, gophers and groundhogs. My dream is to meet a beautiful girl poodle. That would be a dream come true. I’m neutered, though, so no one has to worry. Does he have a motto? My motto is: “Look good. Smell good. Be good.”
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even watchdogs need watchdogs
Animals enrich our lives in so many ways. They give us joy, protection, companionship, and unconditional love. But they need our help too. Join us in confronting animal cruelty in all its forms. Visit humanesociety.org to find out what you can do.