Crystal is our June 10, 2012 Pup of the Week

Pocket has her own views on what pups we should recognize. She says that we don’t recognize the young pups enough. Me, I think you need to build up a bit of a resume before you deserve recognition. But this week we are going to recognize a younger pup, with a younger Mom, and who has not spent much time playing with us in the cyber world.

This week we recognized Crystal, our mighty Great Dane of a friend. We would like to recognize her for her faithfulness, dedication, and being wonderful friend. But this week she added a new title to her resume. Crystal had become a Great Dane puppy whisperer.

Like all us pups Crystal has an online family and a onfoot family. One of her onfoot family members is her cousin,another Great Dane named Bella. Bella has a young human sibling named Gabriel who she doesn’t get along with. And who knows, the kid could have an attitude. Once they hit two they become all vicks and ‘tude.

But Bella is also a classically misplaced dogs. She is in an apartment with four humans. Not a place for a Great Dane with energy to be. She spends too much time in her crate or being tied up outside. Crystal and her Mom might be young but they knew this was no kind of life for Bella, so they decided to have their own K9 training Kamp for her.

Crystal and her Mom took Bella to their house for a weekend. Crystal’s Mom took Bella for long bike rides to help burn her energy (and get this, Bella actually ran along the side of the bike and not on the handlebars. Who would have thought?) Once Bella was exhausted Crystal’s Mom planned to see if the bad behavior went away. I am telling you this kid is a natural.

After Bella was exhausted getting her to walk on the leash was much easier. She dets able to determine that Bella was just a giant ball of energy. There were some issues with Bella losing interest in her food, and being obsessed with her grandma, wanting to go everywhere with her, and sleep with her, even though grandma did not have that bond, and Bella became a puppy stalker.

When Crystal came in to say goodnight to Grandma Bella tried to protect Grandma and Crystal had to give her a lesson on who was the boss. Later when Crystal’s Mom came in Bella growled again and Crystal’s Mom had to correct her.

Crystal’s Mom worked on the food problem by hand feeding her and tried to work on her aggression issues with other pups by walking her along a fence with dogs on the other side. When Crystal’s Mom took her for a bike ride by the dogs, and Bella was otherwise occupied she did not pay those dogs any never mind.

I think Bella has a long way to go but she has good trainers in Crystal and her Mom. And it is good to know that there are wonderful, young pup owners to keep dogs cared for and our web sites open for generations to come.

K9 Kamp III: Minute to Kill Him

I am very happy to report that I have completed another K-9 Kamp Challenge although, while I love my K-9 Kamp coordinators, if I am to be perfectly honest, I did not like this week’s challenge.

Now I have talked with Foley about it and she tried to explain it. The challenge was called Minute to Win It. I guess it was named after a lame TV game show, and must give thanks that at least it wasn’t named Fear Factor. Foley told me the challenge was geared to those who do not have time to play with their pups because they work or have other commitments. She told me they weren’t as lucky as us pups who have parents working from home. Working from home? What a crock. You know who else works from home? Presidents. ‘Nough said.

The idea is to squeeze in challenges even if you only have a minute to do them. Well to me the first minute of a challenge is just warming up. I mean one minute? The Patriots win the toss, elect to receive, run it out to the 30 then run the ball up the middle and the ball game is over,

So I decided on my own to change the challenge. I changed it to Kill Him in a Minute. and the Him is, of course, Daddy. My first try was to take the thrown ball and nudge it all the way down the hall and between the dryer and the washing machine. The timing to this was crucial. I had to do it just as the washer entered the spin cycle. Now Daddy came crawling down as I barked by the machine. I nosed to him where the ball was. He reached in between the thin space between the washer and dryer just as the washer hit the spin cycle and Daddy got shaken like Michael Duncan at the end of The Green Mile.

He was able to extricate himself when the spin cycle ended. His arm was two inches longer. Not that he thanked me even though now it was easier for him to reach the balls. I immediately moved on to my second challenge, which, also, unselflessly cented on my Daddy’s health. He sat in his recliner, put up his feet, and leaned back. I jumped on the back of the couch and used my deep, dangerous, “hey there is someone in the back yard” bark and growl. After several times telling me to stop Daddy got curious and stood up, good cardio, and looked out the window, good stretching, and finally went outside, good stair work and walking.
I was able to get him to do this three times. Every time he did it he got angrier, jumping out of the chair faster, moving outside quicker, his blood pressure rising. I tell you I could be a personal trainer for humans. The third time he went out I planned the new game. Sniff out the poo.

I took three little vicks in the house. One near the front bathroom, one near the master bathroom, and one between the bureau and the TV stand. Now this took some work. I had to projectile vick. Now this is hard. What you have to do is squat just right, breathe deeply through your nose, fill your lungs, and then try to breathe out your butt. You do it right, for a little dog, you can toss one about two feet, for a big dog, I betcha you could get it over the fence and into the mean neighbors yard (extra points for bouncing it off the Prius.)

Daddy then had to crawl around and find the hidden little gems of poo. Part of this challenge is to have him go by the poo, and back up, because backward crawling is a very good challenge. It took Daddy five minutes to get all the poo. It really wasn’t a great time but I think he can improve it.

Foley wanted to get into the fun. At night, in bed, just before Mommy and Daddy went to sleep, with the lights off, Foley started making a sound like she was releasing air from a helium balloon. She had been working on this sound all day. Both Mommy and Daddy bounced down the bed. Mommy held her and Daddy stroked her throat. As soon as they were awake she stopped, but Daddy still spent half the night awake waiting to see if she made the sound again. The next day he had to get through the day with very little sleep. This didn’t help him get healthier but did almost kill him. If Foley and I had a few more minutes we would have done the job.

So, while I didn’t get much of a work out during the minute to kill him challenge Daddy did. And that’s all that counts.

This is a bog hop

Pepper, Kaiser and Four New Bridge Angels Star, Max, Christian and Old Pup are Our Pups of the Week for June 3, 2012

The life of a dog can be a rollercoaster ride somedays, especially in the Internet Age. I have so many friends if I went to the dog Olympics and counted paws it still wouldn’t equal their number. Us dogs, we live normal length lives (not like you humans who stick around long passed your usefulness until you’re nothing but tired and lose all interest in your balls) but it does make for a lot of friends heading for the Bridge, and a lot of friends picking their forever homes, over the course of a week.

(FYI: Us dogs, when talking about our parents, usually refer to their age in pup years. Every nine years of human life equal one year of pup life. If a Mom is 45 we think of her as five. After that it goes to a year for every five years. At 50 she is 6, 55, she is 7, at 75 she is 11, If a Mom lives to be 100 she is 16 in pup years which is pretty darn old for everyone except Tommy Tunes.)

This week we lost some good friends from DS. Star Cintron is a dog we go way back to our original time on DS with. When we were off DS Mom kept track of Star on the Face Space. We were so happy when she was our friend again when we returned to DS. But Star was older, 15, and had cancer. Her Mom fought so hard to keep her with us but when the Big Giant Dog wants you at the Bridge you have to go no matter how strong willed a Mom is. On Saturday we said bye to Star, who now twinkles forever high above us. She left a Mom with a broken heart which we must help repair. We will miss you Star, fly high my sweet angel.

Although I did not bark at him as much as Star I would be remiss if I did not mention my friend Max, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel from Ireland, who went to tbe Bridge on the 30th at the age of 11.

Also Christian, a mixed breed, who went to the Bridge at the age of 6, and Josie, Koda and Wills brother Old Pup, their farm dog.

But for every dog lost there is a new friend to fill our soul with excitement. First is Benjamin’s new brother Pepper. In the middle of May Pepper was another dog left at the shelter facing execution. Benjamin’s Dad saw on the Face Space that Pepper was on death row. He swooped in and rescued Pepper, expecting the wife/mom to be mad because their home is already bursting with pups but she was thrilled. Pepper is one smart dog. He went from almost trotting the green mile to choosing a great family, and a great dog, as he has become Benjamins’ shadow, and in line to be a first deputy.

Finally, while I don’t want to spoil the thunder from his sister and his Mom, we have another new member, Kasier, a beautiful German Shepherd rescued by Baron our beloved Bear’s Mom, who is going to have so much to learn from his sister Chey, another rescued dog save from the Bridge.

Some days I go online a cry in sadness because I have lost a friend, other days I cry in joy when I meet a new friend who has been rescued. Somedays I do bost. A roller coaster indeed.

Now, if you excuse me, I need to update my address book.

(Max’s and Christian’s pictures courtesy of Tommy Tunes)

K9 Kamp Part Deux: Playing with my balls

Hi gang, it’s me Pocket reporting from K-9 Kamp glad to say that Daddy and I have completed our favorite challenge: Play with your balls. In fact I think Daddy and I helped name this challenge last year because we have two minds that have not expanded much beyond pupdom.

Now there is nothing I enjoy more than chasing my own balls. Or, should I say my own ball, because I am a one ball girl. For those of you unfamiliar with how particular I sm with balls I have several balls of various shapes and sizes but there is only one ball I will chase. I will chase it until I have gutted it and it doesn’t bounce anymore. We will then have a small ceremony to honor the ball, then put it out for the men who give it a proper burial in what the humans call the landfill, then Daddy lines up my brightly colored balls, and I sniff them, paw at them, and then choose one with my paw, pull it out of line and nose it to Daddy. He puts the rest back in my playpen and I play with that one ball for months. If it is lost we cannot play with another ball, we have to find that one. The only way for me to move on to a new ball is for me to destroy it. My balls are like horocruxes. You must rid the world of one and move on to the next.

Now for me this challenge is easy. All I do is chase the ball. And, being such a small dog, I chase the ball inside. Now, you might comment, this seems quite an easy challenge for a biped. Well, my friends, you would be wicked wrong, because, when we play ball inside the house, I darn near kill Daddy.

For a human to get the most benefit from this challenge they must strictly follow the Daddy rules. First, like flat on the floor. Then throw the ball....and wait. Sometimes I bring it back. Sometimes I don’t. And that is where the challenge begins.

Because I have hidden my horocrux ball and Daddy has to find it. And because I am closer to the ground than hedgehog who is retaining water it is going to be on the floor under something. First Daddy has to lift himself off the floor (push up) then crawl along the floor (cardo and good for arms strength). then get back flat on the floor to look under furniture, then back up to crawl to the next spot. There is no running done but this up and down, crawl and lay down, and the peering is a great work our for him.

So play with your balls is the best of all challenges, it is great fun for me and a great workout for Dad. In fact I think it the best workout any human can have: Except for the standing and moving.

This is a bog hop

Dog Bite Awareness Week: I Wasn't Born This Way

Recently it was dog bite awareness week. I was unable to blog that week but I want to take this opportunity to speak to the humans to make them aware of one important way to avoid getting bit: Stop pissing us off.

First, let’s deal with our tails. They have many functions. Mostly they are used to express our joy. But they are not a handle. Don’t pull them, don’t squeeze them, don’t wrench them. When you do we are have protect ourselves and, since we were not born with sharp claws, machine guns attached to our under quarters, or boxing gloves on our paws. Our only protection is our mouths: hence you get bit.

Second, and this applies to our big dog friends, don’t try to ride us. We are not ponies. Our backbones are not meant to support the weight of a human or a child. Hey, we are willing to drag you on a sled in the middle of the snow and willing to bring you a bottle of whiskey when your dumb ass gets lost on a mountain. You don’t expect horsies to do that, don’t be expecting to ride us.

Thirdly doggies who bite were not born that way. We are not Gaga’s Monsters. Doggies are Foley’s Monsters. We are born sweet, innocent, and only wanting a human to love and be loved. If you abuse us that love turns to fear and we start lashing out with our teeth to protect ourselves. We are not here to bring out the tough in you. We are here to bring out the love in you. Let us change you. Don’t be changing us.

Lesson number four is be careful not to startle us. Are one job is to protect our humans and, if a mean human is smart, he will hurt us first so we can’t do our jobs. If you come up to us suddenly, or in a manner that seems threatening we are going to go into survival mode to save our families. If you get a nip from that don’t be blaming us.

Lesson number five is, unless you have owned us since we were a little pup, you don’t know how we were mistreated by bad humans, and those memories stay in us for a long time. One day, out of nowhere, a sudden movement may bring us back those days of being mistreated and we move to protect ourselves. We are very sorry, but again, we are Foley’s Monsters, and we weren’t born that way, some bad human made us that way.

Remember, behind every non biting do is a wonderful human who brought us up to be what we are supposed to be, and behind every biting dog is a mean human, usually deep in our past, who turned us into the wrong kind of monsters.

And if you find a dog who does bite just keep in mind

Oh there there is another way
I wasn’t born this way
I wasn’t born this way
Oh there there is another way
I wasn’t born this way
I'm on the wrong track, baby
I wasn’t born this way

Chelsea and Ashton are our May 27, 2012 Pup of the Week

I never want to be accused of favoritism but today I am willing to take that chance because I am recognizing two pups, Chelsea and Ashton, who are both members of the mightiest of dog breeds, the Yorkshire Terrier.

For almost an entire month we did not hear from our sweet friends. We became very concerned because they lived in the part of Texas where there were terrible tornadoes, and while there were no fatalities the human news reporters rarely count dogs among their casualties so there was still reason for concern. We all sent messages, e-mail, tree mail, pee a grams, but we got no response.

Finally our little friends (little to most of you, to us they are properly sized) posted an update. Her ‘puter got sick and she called the tech support so much the phone system crashed and no one could order Chinese food in New Dehli for a week. That was on April 21 and we were so happy the Yorkie silence was over.

Then we heard no yelping from them for another three weeks. Now, as you kind readers, and my friends, can tell you, it just isn’t natural for a Yorkie to stop yapping. Then they posted again and they were still having ‘puter problems. Chelsea and Ashton live, like we do, in a Senior community, and sometime in these places, thinking goes a bit sideways, and they start spending their money of things like shower chairs, higher toilet seats and something called a Commode which I can only compare to the drivethru of bathrooms for poo lovers.

I took the time to send a scathing e-mail to the AARP saying that instead of sending old folks key rings, flashlights and magnets they should send them laptops with free wi-fi. I am still waiting on a response. But you know, old folks, takes them awhile to respond.

Then, further down in the posting, I realized my genetic sisters had buried the lead along with a bone. Their Mom needed eye surgery which is bad for dogs but worse for humans because we can smell everything around for six square acres and poor Moms don’t have that ability. And let me tell you, from experience, us Yorkies make really bad seeing eye dogs, unless the only place blind humans want to go is after anything that runs across their path or something that smells new in the grass.
In an odd twist, Chelsea’s and Ashton’s Mom decided to become a pirate. She got herself an eye patch. And she has made all the elderly women in her building refer to her as “Big Mama.” All she needs is a parrot, which she is not getting, because us Yorkies don’t take to anything that weighs the same as us and has wings.

In their last post they said they had professional computer help which makes me wonder how a Yorkie can be affording that. Hopefully we will be hearing more from them soon and their Mom will be on their new computer. But for now they are doing what us Yorkies do best, keeping close to their Mom until she feels better.

Take care of your Moms my friends, and we will keep the Yorkie spirit going on the old Internet for you.

K9 Kamp Challenge I: "Walking on Sunshine" or "Dragging Foley on Pavement"

We have successfully completed our walking on sunshine task but not without a few problems.

Daddy and I were getting ready. He pulled on his training pants, his tube socks, his sneakers. I licked my pads to make sure there were no obstructions and was ready to go. Mommy then interrupted us. She said words I dreaded to hear: Why don’t you take Foley along.

Geesh. Here I am. Four years old, in the prime of my prime, I am ready for my challenge, and not only do I have to drag tubby Daddy but now I got the Betty White of Yorkies to drag along. If we were going to win this challenge it came down to me: Pocket Dog. And I am never more worried than when things came down to me.

So we started our walk. Daddy used a purposeful stride. I walked with pride next to him. Foley dug in her paws and use her low center of gravity to imitate a turtle wearing a leash. If I may suggest to my K9 Kamp Kreating friends, that next year they add the stubborn Diva Yorkie drag challenge.

This lasted until our little modular home cottage disappeared from view. This was, like on all walks, when Foley gave in. Daddy says it’s because she knows she’s going for a walk. I think it’s because she’s not smart enough to know she can just turn around and thinks she has to take that long walk to go home again. But don’t tell her that because she will definitely give me a butt nip if she hears about it.

There is also one problem with this challenge. It’s the problem with almost every challenge we do. Many of us dogs are inside dogs, and when we go outside, and for a walk, well while we are in nature, nature calls. And it is very embarrassing in the middle of a challenge. Really, you humans don’t know how difficult it is. Imagine this. “Here we are at the Olympic gold medal 100 meter dash, and we’re off, and Bolt has a huge lead, but no, he’s taken a giant crap in the middle of the track and cost himself the Gold.” That is our life.

But the good thing is, once you have an early walk cleaning out, it gives you quite the skip in your step. Unfortunately Foley is a sniffaholic so we could never build up a healthy head of speed before something caught her scent and she had buried her nose in it. But once Foley was scentually satisfied we maintained a pace that I’ll Have Another would admire. Then we came to the office with the mailboxes.

There is a ramp there, but on the other side there is small stairway, and we walked up it, then across the porch, and down the ramp. We did this three times until the little old man who runs the office thought we were Occupation Wall Street picketers and asked us to leave.

Then we began walking down the longest road. It was here that we tried the running portion of the challenge. But Foley don’t run unless there is fried chicken at the end of the track.

Daddy tried picking her up and running with her but she didn’t like that either. We passed a home under construction. There were stairs that led nowhere.
Daddy said we could do more stairs and we climbed up them. Suddenly the top seemed very small and we were like the flying Wallendas up there. We climbed back down and headed home.

All in all it wasn’t a bad challenge. We would have done better without Foley but it is the first time she completed a challenge so a tip of the tail for her.

And I got my badge for doing something for the elderly, helping Foley in a challenge.


Oh my gosh, here she comes at me, I gotta run!