Hurley is our March 20, 2011 Pup of the Week

Poo.  For something that humans build special chairs with water at the bottom to dispose of it, that needs to be picked up and disposed of wherever we may leave it, and for something that is so reprehensible that, if left on the rug, humans get very angry, it sure is important.  When humans have explosively bad poo they chalk it up to a bug that's going around or some bad food.  They don't worry about it too much.  But you know humans.  They have severe chest pains they wait to see if it will pass but if their check engine light goes off on their car they hurry to a mechanic.

Our good friend Hurley has had poo problems lately, and thank God his Mom, the wonderful Miss Nancy, is a certified poo inspector.  Hurley has been on and off medicine for blood in his poo for a few weeks now.  When the last cycle of medication ended we all hoped that Hurley would be fine.  But then bloody, explosive, poo began to be sprayed on her family members, and it was time for a trip to the kindest vet I have heard of, Dr. Apple.

Dr Apple did what dogters do, scare, and harass us desperately trying to make her better.  She had a pic line put in.   I don't know what that is but I don't want one in me.  There were needles stuck in her, blood drawn, x-rays.  Oh just the worst things.  Luckily kind Dr Apple let her go home with her Mom who didn't mind for a second her explosive butt juices, just wanted her home.  But Miss Nancy, as any Mom would be, was wracked with worry.

Now after a day like that how many pups do you know who would go to work?  Well Hurley did.  Miss Nancy wanted to keep her near so she went to work with her Mom.  They got the blood tests back which were negative, which is good, another thing about humans I don't understand, why negative is good.  Of course even at work Hurley wanted walks and toys to play with.  She did eat grass, and Hurley, girl, that is something you have to stop because that is not helping you so please  it might be time for you to take a trip to the John Deere rehab clinic.  There was no food, and there was some nasty farting.  There was poo, not bloody, thanks to the medication, but still no answers.

Then came the answer:  Cryptosporidum.  You can read about it HERE.  I am not going to lie to you my friends.  This was not a great diagnosis.  Basically it is a parasite living in Hurley's digestive track.  It is known in feral animals.  If your pup becomes in contact with traces of fecal matter from other animals, or licks from a puddle that an infected animal has drank from it can come in contact with this parasite.  It could also be in the pups system for years so it could be something she contracted as a pup before she came to Miss Nancy and it is just showing up now.  So for you parents with outside pups:  Scared yet?  It is also common in humans.  It is usually transmitted into the water supply from feral animals.  You can also get it from your pup if they are mouth lickers, but only if you have auto immune deficiencies, which thankfully neither Ms. Nancy or anyone in her family have.

Much credit must go to Dr. Apple who diagnosed Hurley.  It was the first time in 36 years he has had a pup with this parasite.  There is no agreed upon cure for this parasite.  Dr. Apple has Hurley on the human drug amoxoicylin.  He believes it will wipe out that nasty old parasite and Hurley will be fine.  There have been some miracles to get Hurley to this spot.  The test for Cryptosporidum has only been around for six months.  Miracle one.  That Dr Apple was smart enough to run the test and make the diagnosis was miracle two.  Now we're counting on a third miracle.  That the bad parasite is killed off and Hurley gets back to new soon.

Hurley, Cali and Miss Nancy are the nicest, kindest folk who have had more than their share of heartache.  Such kindness should be rewarded not punished.  We love them very much and want nothing but sunny days and Hurley chasing her frisbee in the future.

So far so good on the treatment but the question will be once the drugs are done if the bloody poo goes away.  If not, more drugs.  So I know I've asked before, but let's keep the prayer chain going for our friend Hurley sos he can keep chasing frisbees and keep Miss Nancy's heart from breaking.

Keep flying Hurley, we will be the wind that lifts your to that frisbee called a long life.

Petfinder's Adopt the Internet Day Our Home Town Taunton MA

Today is Petfinder's Birthday and also their first Adopt the Internet Day.  Anyone willing can use their blogs, Facebook Status or Twitter to help promote pets who need good homes.  We are going to start with dogs in our local Taunton Ma Animal Shelter and Yorkies Inc Placement Service

Our first dog is an Australian Cattle Dog named Finn.  Your can check out his profile Here

Our next cute little local pup is a Yorkie and we know Yorkies should never be in shelters.  Her name is Glitter.  She is seven years old and her profile is HERE

And there is another little Yorkie, five years old, named Ivy who you can find out about here

If your interested in a hound dog then you can read about Sara HERE

For friends of big dogs could you find a spot in your heat for Mandy an American Staffordshire Terrier that you can learn about here

Have you met any Brussels Giffons?  How about Dexter and Danny who can read about here

One of our favorite pups who is now at Rainbow Bridge was named Ladybug.  This Ladybug is up for adoption and if she is anything like our friend she will bring joy and love into your heart.  Read about her here

And finally we have an adorable Bichon named GiGi to brighten your home.  Learn about her here

Otis is our March 13, 2011 pup of the week

It is both an honor and a  privilege for us to announce that Otis is our March 13, 2011 pup of the week.

Otis has been sight challenged for some time now but that has not stopped him from being one of the most observant dogs I know.  Also he wrote a string of rhythm and blues hits in the 70's.  Hold it a second *ruffling through notes* that is incorrect , he did not write any songs.  Pocket please remove this sentence during the editing process.

This week we were quite concerned about our witty, white friend.  He had to go in for surgery.  I have never personally seen a surgery except on the TV but they always seem to go wrong and are done after the surgeons make sexy time in the supply closet.  No wonder there are so many infectious diseases in hospitals.  One little slip up and a doctor's entire family gets spilled out over the linens.

The dogter had made the diagnosis that poor Otis had two large lickyourmas in his tummy.  This made me worried.  I lick my Mom quite a bit and don't want any residue to build up in my tummy and need to removed by a sex starved surgeon. 

Well. of course, the dogter had miscalculated.  There were four lickyourmas in his tummy.  One of them was the size of a grapefruit which is wicked big.  I think it's bigger than Pocket.  Which would be like having a Pocket in your stomach, which would make you a kangaroo.  I would still be Otis' friend if he was a kangaroo but hopping and lack of vision seem to be a recipe for disaster.

The dogter said those lickyourmas had been in his tummy four four to five years.  That's a quite a long time to have Mommy residue in your belly.  But you know what?  How can Mommy residue be bad for you?  OK, if it's bigger then Pocket it's probably not great, but still, there is nothing wrong with having a little bit of Mommy inside of you.

In fact Otis had become so attached to the Mommy residue that the dogtor could not remove them all.  But that was OK.  He stuck his poker all over Otis and didn't find anything wrong so he stitched him up, gave him a kiss on his head, and called his Mom to take him home.

Otis was groggy, looked up,and saw his Mommy.  He gave her a kiss, darn the residue, and looked down to see his hoo ha had been shaved.  He passed out. 

His first night was  a tough one.  Very confused from the medicine they give you to bring about sleepy time.  And any operation on your tummy is quite painful so Otis couldn't find a comfortable place to lay down.  We haven't heard back about his condition but we're hoping he didn't have to wear the cone of shame.

Now Otis, you always make us smile, and we've had a little fun with your operation because we hope to make your Mommy smile.  But we are worried about you.  We pray that you fully recover and keep us smiling with your stories about  your Mom and your kitties.  And we all love you, so that's why you're our pup of the week.

\

Pocket's resume to be Charlie Sheen's intern

Dear Mr. Sheen:

Hello sir.  My name is Pocket Dog and I am applying for the position of intern.  I feel I have many qualities that would me the perfect candidate for this job.

Loyalty:  I am a dog, therefore by nature I am loyal.  I have been very loyal to my current Mommy and Daddy despite several instances of mistreatment.  They have a back room on the second floor with a door that magically shuts behind me.  When it does I just sit and wait for it to be opened and do not hold a grudge.  So if you need me to hide in a closet while your snort cocaine off a prostitutes mid-section not only wouldn't I mind, but I am used to it.  Also, if you needed me to take a baggie of heroin and hide behind the couch or under the bed I have experience in the job requirements of fetching things and hiding them from the PO.

Ho Tolerance:  In my formative years my human brother was in his mid twenties and we had a line out the door of tramps, hos, and skanks.  When I was a pup that area of my anatomy was broken during an ill fated attempt to "fix" it.  So not only do I have a tolerance for the type of female company you prefer, but I have no interest in being pleasured in the manner they are.

Children:  We have a similar attitude toward children.   I let children pick me up, pat me, carry me around, play ball with me but I know they will soon tire of me and go watch TV.  You pick your children, pat them, carry them around, play ball with them, then tire of them and go watch TV.  Also I could be an immense help in feeding your children since I imagine the only food available to either me or the children will be what your drop on the floor I can teach them how to lick the food off the floor.

Balls:  I am obsessed with balls.   I chase them.  I catch them.  I pick them up off the floor.  I sit on the couch and chew on them and lick them.  Yeah, you're getting the picture aren't you big boy?

Education:  I received an honorary doctorate from Puppy University, so, while I have no actual medical experience I would be a doctor living in the house with you. like Michael Jackson had.  I can dial 911 once out of every seven tries.  And I can run away like the wind, just like Michael Jackson's doctor.

Excitable peeing:  I am an excitable pee-er.  When I get overly excited I leak.  I sense you suffer the same problems with urination.  We can compare notes.

Feet:  I like to take my mouth and put it on my foot to lick it.  You like to take your foot and put it in your mouth.   Very similar traits.

Addiction:  You suffer from addiction to various substances.  I like to eat poo.  You call your house the sober house.  I call my house the no eat poo house.  The irony is lost on both of us.

Video:  We both like to put rambling, incoherent, offensive videos on the Internet.  Here is mine.

I am sure you will find my qualifications exemplary and I look forward to discussing how many kibble I will receive in compensation.  (Between you and me Mommy has lots of pills and she won't miss a few here and there.)

Sincerely yours,

Pocket Dog

We did not step on a crack or break Mommy's back

Since I have joined Mommy's pack she has, from the bottom up, had her little toe shaved because it got too big, probably from eating too much roast beef, then had it shaved again because the bone grew back ("bones don't usually grow back" the doctor said to Mommy with the alien DNA, so take Charlie Sheen and your inferior Adonis DNA) had both her knees replaced which only made them hurt more, had a hip injury that she needed a shot for, had irritable bowel syndrome (also known as owning Pocket syndrome), had the dreaded C word in her mammograms, threw up so much that she passed out in the middle of throwing up, had car pool tunnel syndrome, had a large, painful growth on her neck which she needed removed (OK it was before I joined the pack but I am reserving the right to use some artistic license here,) had her rotator cuff repaired (also before I was born but my sister Blake told me and it was no fun) and suffers from migraines on the brain (Daddy's Daddy told him that Daddy's 51 year old sister gets migraines when she gets her period, which possibly was too much information to share with a brother, and secondly pretty impressive that at 51 the Old Man River is still flowing towards the sea.)

But gosh we got quite a scare this week.  A lot of you on Facebook or who we've barked at this week know about it but some of you don''t, and even if you do know the story you have not heard it from the Foley perspective so you can get the truth from the no spin zone.  On Tuesday Mommy had an appointment with a pain management doctor to finally address her back pain.  We were very supportive of this.  Both Pocket and I love to snuggle against Mommy's back when she sleeps but sometimes that knobby, twisty thing is uncomfortable.  So she was doing it for the most important reason, to give us pups a nice place to snuggle.

She got all looped up on drugs before going so she would be nice and sedated.  She took them fifteen minutes before leaving.  Let me tell you.  If you have never snuggled with a loopy Mom you are missing out.  There whole body just goes floppy and everything becomes so comfortable.

But then it was time for Daddy to take her to the doctor.  He is from India.  Is it racist to say that he had to stop his examination to go make slurpies at the Kwicki-Mart and provide tech support for confused WIndows Vista users?  I thought it was.  I will make sure Pocket removes the offensive comment during the editing process.  The doctor looked at her x-rays and he saw something that he said wasn't of any concern but he needed to find out what it was (during their next meeting he said the x-ray worried him very much so I think he was trying not to get her excited but Mommy was too smart for him and knew it could be serious but too loopy to fully understand the trouble she could be in.)

So Mommy had to get blood drawn.  I hate getting blood drawn.  Mommy has less fur than me but it still hurts (unless you're all hopped up on pills like Mommy then there’s no pain.)  Then they took her into the MRI machine.  I have never been in one but I can tell I don't want to be.  Mommy laid down in the machine and fell asleep, but before she did she saw written on her paper STAT:  Rule out tumor or fracture.  Yikes!

When they got home Pocket and I were none the wiser.  We just ran down stairs and got into snuggle position with her and slept the afternoon away.  When we awoke Mommy and Daddy were kind of quiet, and were hugging without me in the middle, so I knew something was wrong, but in a decade of life I have learned to be quiet and not to make things worse.  Pocket, of course, ran around and barked.  I could share my secret with her but why should I?   Let her find out these things for herself.

The next morning, despite the opinion of every single person on Earth, Mommy went to work.  Daddy went for his walk of many miles, to his therapist (he's been seeing her for a long time but she hasn't got any better) and to the grocery store.  When he got home he did the laundry, emptied the dish water, shampooed the floors, then freed Pocket from her crate while I slowly stretched getting out of my blanket.  We went outside, took a little walk, did a little pee, came back inside and Pocket got ready for some ball playing.

Before the ball playing commenced Daddy checked the phone.  The message light was blinking.  Daddy checked the message.  It was from the doctor the day before.  Mommy had an appointment to see him Friday but he said if he found something bad on the MRI he would call before Friday.   It was before Friday.  The message was the Doctor needed to see her right away.

Daddy has been in therapy for months, been on all sorts of medications, has lots of relaxation techniques, but boy can he still panic.  He texted Mommy telling her that the doctor needed to see her.  Pocket barked because she wanted to play ball.  He then texted her again to have her text back if she got the text.  She didn't.  I opened my computer and tried to download myself there but couldn't get a connection.  Pocket picked up the ball and dropped it at Daddy's feet.  Daddy tried calling her cell phone but it went to voice mail so he left a message.  I went to the steps and barked at her to come home. Pocket nosed the ball to Daddy. Daddy texted her to text him if she got the phone call.  I sent her an e-mail.  Pocket threw the ball up in the air and barked.  Daddy sent her a text saying he was going to the school to get her.  I headed back upstairs to get in my blanket.  Pocket barked that she did not get her ball time and got stuffed inside her crate.

Pocket barked at him all the way down the stairs.  I went over to her crate and told her there might be something wrong with Mommy.  That stopped her barks of frustration and turned them to whines of worry.  I opened her crate door and climbed in with her and we crossed our paws and prayed.

Daddy came home first.  He smelled of relief.  We both were barking quite a bit.  While Daddy was relieved we had to smell Mommy to be sure.  He took us outside for a fast pee.  He then called his Daddy and told him that the MRI didn't show anything bad.  That's when Mommy got home.  Daddy got off the phone saying the dogs were going to start barking like crazy.  He was right.  As soon as Mommy came in we could tell she was relieved and her aura showed she wasn't ill.  We all hurried around the house of she transitioned from work Mom to our Mom, got in the chair, pulled up the blanket and snuggled down.

On Friday she went back for her first series of shots.  The Doctor had her on so many pills when she walked past us she rattled.  Then they left and Pocket and I waited nervously.  When Mommy came home she was moving a bit stiffly and got her over to her chair. The great thing about a rattling Mommy is she is soon a sleeping Mommy and man did we have great snuggle on Friday.

On Saturday Mommy said she felt a little better, and that was good enough for us.  We also found out that she is taking steroids so she is soon going to be picking up the couch and twirling it over her head.  That will be so cool.  We are going to have the strongest Mom around, albeit, a slow one who limps.  But we are thankful that she is feeling better and thankful to our wonderful friends who have sent us and our Mom strong words of encouragement and never let us lose faith.

If you're planning a move or need anything heavy lifted let our steroid pumped up Mom know and we'll have her sent tight over.

Sierra and Smartie are our March 6, 2011 pups of the week

On the first Sunday in  March, as the snow melts and this cold winter creeps towards spring, we take time to salute our "seasoned" pups (see I told you I would steal that word) who are "fit as a fiddle" (I stole that too) Sierra and Smartie.

This week both our friends had appointments with the veterinarian.  I myself am a seasoned lollipop.  I too am fit as a fiddle except  for my danged teeth, one of which may need to be removed.  I know, from seeing their nervousness, that each year when we go to our annual examination is a little more stressful for our Mommies and Daddies.

Let's start with the sometimes overshadowed Smartie (although we have no idea who Smartie is overshadowed by.)  Somehow, in his well seasoned 13th year, he has managed to lose weight, something that no healthy older dog has been able to accomplish.  Plus all Smarties' vitals were good.  And the best news of all is that his vick still smells. Once your vick stops stinking it's all down hill.  There was even a fatty lump that was causing some distress but the doctor said there was no reason for concern. 

Which brings us to Sierra from whom I have stolen the word seasoned from.  Sierra, close to 13, Smarties' age, had a check up as well.  I was concerned when I read her blog that she went to the doctors in the Middle Ages because it seemed this veterinarian was drawing a lot of blood from Sierra, but the vet pronounced Sierra too fit, active and in perfect condition for a pup her age.  The seasoned citizens are going strong.

Could our wise Brigade friends be helping in extending the lives of our seasoned pups?  I would like to think so.  Look at the health group that was started by the wonderful Ms. Jackie under the name of her health challenged little love Sage.  Every day you can go there and find out something on food, seizures, illnesses, almost any malady that could strike a dog and get answers without seeking out a vet. Smartie's Mom Miss Darla credits Kolchak's Mom Ms. Jodi for recommending the Evo dog food that has kept the stank in her poo among other benefits.

Along with Pocket and I, and Kolchak and Felix, Smoochy has joined us in the huge, dark world of blogging.  Besides the personal glory that we bask in daily we are following some blogs that have wise pups with lots of health knowledge which we come back home with and post on the health pages.  You can also follow our friend Buttons at the Bridge's Mom Nadia HERE or even purchase a copy of her fine book The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood.

Pocket and I delve into the wide world of Twitter find some information to keep our friends healthy too.  So here is to our Pups of the Week Sierra, and Smartie and to all dogs who are living to the age of teenage rebellion.  And here are to the pups like Sage, Saffron, Kolchak, Felix, and Buttons who work so hard at keeping us all healthy.

As Smartie said as he raised a paw with a glass of seltzer water to us all :"To Everyone's Health.:"

Foley Monster the Human Whisperer

I am Foley.  I rehabilitate humans, but I train dogs.

I have recently received several complaints by dogs about the bed.  This only pertains to those dogs who want to sleep in the large bed in the bedroom.  For you dogs who prefer to sleep in their own beds  this does not concern you.  I do understand this.  Humans are rather disgusting to sleep with.  They are usually morning bathers so by night time their stank is most noticeable.  They make strange, disturbing sounds in their sleep that lead to unrest.  Also, not to shock you, but sometimes your bed is used by humans for reasons other than sleep.  Yes, they do "that" in it instead of on the front yard as the school bus pulls up like normal mammals.  Also, by morning, when they awake next to you, and want to kiss you, their breath can burn your whiskers off.

But for so many of us the bed, with its snuggly comforters, it's soft mattress, and the heat humans give off, can be the best place to sleep in the world.  Humans are wonderful to snuggle with.   They curl up making a perfect spot to sleep in, when they can't sleep they reach out to give us belly rubs, it is certainly the closest us dogs will go back to our roots of sleeping in packs.

Unfortunately humans believe that they own the bed because they earned the kibble to pay for it.  This is the animal coming out in the human.  Humans are hunters and gatherers by nature.  They gather items, like beds, and bring them into the house where the pack lives.  What they need to be trained to understand is that anything brought into the house is pack property not individual property.

So we must claim the bed from them.  No Pocket this does not mean peeing on the bed.  The bed is community property and should be enjoyed by all and no one wants to sleep in your pee.  When it is bed time, make sure the bed is ready to be slept in, that all those unnecessary pillows, comforters and stuffies are removed from it.  Then you need to jump on the bed.  If you can't you need to lose a few pounds.  One of the way humans keep the communal pack items away from us is by over feeding us.  We all know we are going to fall for this trick, but we have to remember to zoom around the house to lose weight.

So jump on the bed.  They will tell you to get down.  Get down.  Then get right back up.  They will tell you to get down again.  Get down.  Then get right back up.  Eventually they will give in.  You know why?  Because we have nothing else to do all day.  We could keep going, up down, up down, while our weakness is we can't keep away from food their weakness is eventually they crumble.  Oh we may have to resort to some cheap trips like putting our head on our crossed paws and looking up with side eyes.

Once we have established ourselves on the bed you can let the humans tell you where to lay.  But as soon as the humans fall asleep you need to get to the spot where you want to be.  (Note:  Do not stand on top of the covers and try to go under them at the same time.  So unprofessional.)  Once you get to the spot you want burrow as close to your human as you can (but not too close, I once snuggled Mommy right out of the bed.)  They may get up and tell you to get back to where you belong but when they fall asleep you can go right back to your spot.  Eventually they will give in and let you lay where you want and you will have dominance over the bed.

Humans will try to break us of this using calm and assertive voices and demeanor.  To counter this we should act in an excited, nervous manner.  Chaos theory states that over time, if left alone, all situations will turn to chaos:  meaning that excited and nervous will beat calm and assertive every time.  If you are in a drastic situation you may need to get your humans in a submissive position.  All humans reach this position in their own time.  The submissive position in humans for this exercise is when they are curled in the fetal position at the end of the bed begging to know why you just won't go to sleep.

The bed is a good first step in teach humans how to be a member of the pack and stop trying to lead the pack.  Our next lesson will be getting human food from the table.

Until then good luck and remember, and remember, all members of the pack are equal, some are just more equals than others.