Does anyone else out in blog-land have any hilarious Puppy vs. Snow stories to share?
Bark back at us and let us know!!
Keep your tails wagging
Bear's P4wsWednesday, 19 February 2014
There's no Day Like a Snow Day!!
Bear's idea of the BEST DAY EVER!!!
Does anyone else out in blog-land have any hilarious Puppy vs. Snow stories to share?
Bark back at us and let us know!!
Keep your tails wagging
Bear's P4ws
Does anyone else out in blog-land have any hilarious Puppy vs. Snow stories to share?
Bark back at us and let us know!!
Keep your tails wagging
Bear's P4ws
Poor Little Rich Dog
Probably one of the saddest, but most reality-based articles I've read regarding the fate of the "picture-perfect-dog"
Try to remember, that as advocates for our fur-babies, we also need to advocate for those who are not abandoned on a street corner, or a shelter. We also have to advocate for those whose owners simply don't know any better, and have never made the effort to learn....
Original text by Jon Katz
Ernie, a fluffy, 10-week-old golden retriever with
heart-melting eyes, was originally a birthday present. The lucky recipient was
Danielle, a pony-tailed 11-year-old living in an affluent Westchester, N.Y.,
suburb.
Danielle's passions for some time had been soccer, Justin Timberlake, and instant messaging, but her parents wanted to give her a different kind of birthday gift, "something that you didn't plug in or watch, something that would give her a sense of responsibility." She'd often said she'd love a puppy and vowed to take care of it.
Girl and dog, growing up together--what parent hasn't pictured it? Her folks envisioned long family walks around the neighborhood, Ernie frolicking on the lawn while they gardened. They could see him riding along to soccer games.
Acquiring a dog completed the portrait that had been taking shape for several years, beginning with the family's move to the suburbs from Brooklyn. The package included a four-bedroom colonial, a lawn edged with flowering shrubs, a busy sports schedule, a Volvo wagon and a Subaru Outback to ferry the kids around. A dog--a big, beautiful hunting breed--came with the rest of it, increasingly as much a part of the American dream as the picket fence or the car with high safety ratings.
So Danielle's parents found a breeder online with lots of awards, cooed over the adorable pictures, and mailed off a deposit on a pup. They drove to Connecticut and returned to surprise Danielle on her birthday, just hours before her friends were due for a celebratory sleepover.
It was love at first sight. Danielle and her friends spent hours passing the adorable puppy from one lap to another. Ernie slept with her that night. Over the next two or three weeks, she spent hours cuddling with him, playing tug of war, and tossing balls while her parents took photos.
But the dog did not spark greater love of the outdoors or diminish her interest in television, iPod, computer, and cell phone. Nor did his arrival slow down Danielle's demanding athletic schedule; with practices, games, and victory celebrations, soccer season took up three or four afternoons a week. Anyway, she didn't find the shedding, slobbering, chewing, and maturing Ernie quite as cute as the new-puppy version.
Both of Danielle's parents worked in the city and rarely got home before 7 p.m. on weekdays. The household relied on a nanny/housekeeper from Nicaragua who wasn't especially drawn to dogs and viewed Ernie as stupid, messy, and, as he grew larger and more restive, mildly frightening.
Because nobody was home during the day, he wasn't housebroken for nearly two months and even then, not completely. No single person was responsible for him; nobody had the time, will, or skill to train him.
As he went through the normal stages of retriever
development--teething, mouthing, racing frantically around the house, peeing
when excited, offering items the family didn't want retrieved, eating strange
objects and then vomiting them up--the casualties mounted. Rugs got stained, shoes
chewed, mail devoured, table legs gnawed. The family rejected the use of a
crate or kennel--a valuable calming tool for young and energetic dogs--as
cruel. Instead, they let the puppy get into all sorts of trouble, then scolded
and resented him for it. He was "hyper," they complained,
"wild," "rambunctious." The notion of him as annoying and
difficult became fixed in their minds; perhaps in his as well.
A practiced trainer would have seen, instead, a golden retriever that was confused, under-exercised, and untrained--an ironic fate for a dog bred for centuries to be calm and responsive to humans.
Ernie did not attach to anybody in particular--an essential element in training a dog. Because he never quite understood the rules, he became increasingly anxious. He was reprimanded constantly for jumping on residents and visitors, for pulling and jerking on the leash when walked. Increasingly, he was isolated when company came or the family was gathered. He was big enough to drag Danielle into the street by now, so her parents and the housekeeper reluctantly took over. His walks grew brief: outside, down the block until he did his business, then home. He never got to run much.
Complaining that he was out of control, the family tried fencing the back yard and putting Ernie outside during meals to keep him from bothering them. The nanny stuck him there most of the day as well, because he messed up the house. Allowed inside at night, he was largely confined to the kitchen, sealed off by child gates.
The abandonment and abuse of dogs is an enormous issue in the animal rights movement, and quite properly. There are, by U.S. Humane Society estimates, as many as 10 million dogs languishing in shelters; the majority will be euthanized. But Ernie is an abused dog, too.
Nobody is likely to talk much about Ernie, the kind of dog I saw frequently while researching several books. His abusers aren't lowlifes who mercilessly beat, starve, or tether animals. Quite the opposite: His owners are affluent, educated people who consider themselves humanistic and moral. But they've been cruel nonetheless, through their lack of responsibility, their neglect, their poor training, and their inattention.
I've seen Ernie numerous times over the past two years. I've watched him become more detached, neurotic, and unresponsive. I've seen the soul drain from the dog's eyes.
He's affectionate and unthreatening, but he doesn't really know how to behave--not around his family or other people, not around other animals, not around me or my dogs. He lunges and barks almost continuously when anyone comes near, so few of us do. Increasingly, he gets confined to his back yard, out of sight and mind.
This family was shocked and outraged when I suggested that the dog was suffering from a kind of abuse and might be better off in a different home. "Nobody hits that dog," sputtered Danielle's father. "He gets the best dog food, he gets all his shots." All true.
But he lacks what is perhaps the most essential ingredient in a dog's life: a human who will take emotional responsibility for him.
Sadly, I see dogs like Ernie all the time, victims of a new, uniquely American kind of abuse, animals without advocates. Dogs like Flash, a Westchester border collie who spent her days chasing invisible sheep beyond a chain link fence, and Reg, an enormous black Lab in Atlanta who, like Ernie, was untrained, grew neurotic and rambunctious, and eventually was confined to the family playroom day and night. He leaves that room for several brief walks each day.
Who knows how many Ernies and Regs there are in urban apartments and suburban backyards? Few media outlets or animals rights groups would classify a $1,200 purebred as a candidate for rescue. In fact, I've contacted rescue groups to see if they could help; they were sympathetic, but they felt more comfortable with traditional kinds of abuse. A situation like this--emotional mistreatment is not illegal--was beyond their purview.
I understand, but Ernie haunts me. He may be the most abused dog I know.
Jon Katz's next book, The Dogs of Bedlam Farm: An adventure with three dogs, sixteen sheep, two donkeys and me will be published in October.
Try to remember, that as advocates for our fur-babies, we also need to advocate for those who are not abandoned on a street corner, or a shelter. We also have to advocate for those whose owners simply don't know any better, and have never made the effort to learn....
Original text by Jon Katz
Ernie, a fluffy, 10-week-old golden retriever with
heart-melting eyes, was originally a birthday present. The lucky recipient was
Danielle, a pony-tailed 11-year-old living in an affluent Westchester, N.Y.,
suburb. Danielle's passions for some time had been soccer, Justin Timberlake, and instant messaging, but her parents wanted to give her a different kind of birthday gift, "something that you didn't plug in or watch, something that would give her a sense of responsibility." She'd often said she'd love a puppy and vowed to take care of it.
Girl and dog, growing up together--what parent hasn't pictured it? Her folks envisioned long family walks around the neighborhood, Ernie frolicking on the lawn while they gardened. They could see him riding along to soccer games.
Acquiring a dog completed the portrait that had been taking shape for several years, beginning with the family's move to the suburbs from Brooklyn. The package included a four-bedroom colonial, a lawn edged with flowering shrubs, a busy sports schedule, a Volvo wagon and a Subaru Outback to ferry the kids around. A dog--a big, beautiful hunting breed--came with the rest of it, increasingly as much a part of the American dream as the picket fence or the car with high safety ratings.
So Danielle's parents found a breeder online with lots of awards, cooed over the adorable pictures, and mailed off a deposit on a pup. They drove to Connecticut and returned to surprise Danielle on her birthday, just hours before her friends were due for a celebratory sleepover.
It was love at first sight. Danielle and her friends spent hours passing the adorable puppy from one lap to another. Ernie slept with her that night. Over the next two or three weeks, she spent hours cuddling with him, playing tug of war, and tossing balls while her parents took photos.
But the dog did not spark greater love of the outdoors or diminish her interest in television, iPod, computer, and cell phone. Nor did his arrival slow down Danielle's demanding athletic schedule; with practices, games, and victory celebrations, soccer season took up three or four afternoons a week. Anyway, she didn't find the shedding, slobbering, chewing, and maturing Ernie quite as cute as the new-puppy version.
Both of Danielle's parents worked in the city and rarely got home before 7 p.m. on weekdays. The household relied on a nanny/housekeeper from Nicaragua who wasn't especially drawn to dogs and viewed Ernie as stupid, messy, and, as he grew larger and more restive, mildly frightening.
Because nobody was home during the day, he wasn't housebroken for nearly two months and even then, not completely. No single person was responsible for him; nobody had the time, will, or skill to train him.
As he went through the normal stages of retriever
development--teething, mouthing, racing frantically around the house, peeing
when excited, offering items the family didn't want retrieved, eating strange
objects and then vomiting them up--the casualties mounted. Rugs got stained, shoes
chewed, mail devoured, table legs gnawed. The family rejected the use of a
crate or kennel--a valuable calming tool for young and energetic dogs--as
cruel. Instead, they let the puppy get into all sorts of trouble, then scolded
and resented him for it. He was "hyper," they complained,
"wild," "rambunctious." The notion of him as annoying and
difficult became fixed in their minds; perhaps in his as well.A practiced trainer would have seen, instead, a golden retriever that was confused, under-exercised, and untrained--an ironic fate for a dog bred for centuries to be calm and responsive to humans.
Ernie did not attach to anybody in particular--an essential element in training a dog. Because he never quite understood the rules, he became increasingly anxious. He was reprimanded constantly for jumping on residents and visitors, for pulling and jerking on the leash when walked. Increasingly, he was isolated when company came or the family was gathered. He was big enough to drag Danielle into the street by now, so her parents and the housekeeper reluctantly took over. His walks grew brief: outside, down the block until he did his business, then home. He never got to run much.
Complaining that he was out of control, the family tried fencing the back yard and putting Ernie outside during meals to keep him from bothering them. The nanny stuck him there most of the day as well, because he messed up the house. Allowed inside at night, he was largely confined to the kitchen, sealed off by child gates.
The abandonment and abuse of dogs is an enormous issue in the animal rights movement, and quite properly. There are, by U.S. Humane Society estimates, as many as 10 million dogs languishing in shelters; the majority will be euthanized. But Ernie is an abused dog, too.
Nobody is likely to talk much about Ernie, the kind of dog I saw frequently while researching several books. His abusers aren't lowlifes who mercilessly beat, starve, or tether animals. Quite the opposite: His owners are affluent, educated people who consider themselves humanistic and moral. But they've been cruel nonetheless, through their lack of responsibility, their neglect, their poor training, and their inattention.
I've seen Ernie numerous times over the past two years. I've watched him become more detached, neurotic, and unresponsive. I've seen the soul drain from the dog's eyes.
He's affectionate and unthreatening, but he doesn't really know how to behave--not around his family or other people, not around other animals, not around me or my dogs. He lunges and barks almost continuously when anyone comes near, so few of us do. Increasingly, he gets confined to his back yard, out of sight and mind.
This family was shocked and outraged when I suggested that the dog was suffering from a kind of abuse and might be better off in a different home. "Nobody hits that dog," sputtered Danielle's father. "He gets the best dog food, he gets all his shots." All true.
But he lacks what is perhaps the most essential ingredient in a dog's life: a human who will take emotional responsibility for him.
Sadly, I see dogs like Ernie all the time, victims of a new, uniquely American kind of abuse, animals without advocates. Dogs like Flash, a Westchester border collie who spent her days chasing invisible sheep beyond a chain link fence, and Reg, an enormous black Lab in Atlanta who, like Ernie, was untrained, grew neurotic and rambunctious, and eventually was confined to the family playroom day and night. He leaves that room for several brief walks each day.
Who knows how many Ernies and Regs there are in urban apartments and suburban backyards? Few media outlets or animals rights groups would classify a $1,200 purebred as a candidate for rescue. In fact, I've contacted rescue groups to see if they could help; they were sympathetic, but they felt more comfortable with traditional kinds of abuse. A situation like this--emotional mistreatment is not illegal--was beyond their purview.
I understand, but Ernie haunts me. He may be the most abused dog I know.
Jon Katz's next book, The Dogs of Bedlam Farm: An adventure with three dogs, sixteen sheep, two donkeys and me will be published in October.
Keep your tails wagging
Bear's P4ws
Sunday, 2 February 2014
The Imposibility of Walking Bear in the Winter
The absolute impossibility of walking Bear properly in the winter....especially when there is fresh snow on the ground....
....silly puppy...
=D
Bark back at us! How does your pooch react to the wonder that is fresh snow on the ground?
Keep your tails wagging,
Bear's P4ws
....silly puppy...
=D
Bark back at us! How does your pooch react to the wonder that is fresh snow on the ground?
Keep your tails wagging,
Bear's P4ws
Thursday, 30 January 2014
The "Frozen Dog" Dilemma
Let’s be honest right of the bat and call this what it
is: a rant.
As a dog owner, dog lover and an advocate for overall dog
health and happiness, it really curdles my
insides to open my Facebook every
day and be bombarded with pictures of half-dead/frozen dogs with caption that
read things like “No one likes to be left out in the cold.”
Do I think that we need to advocate for the rights of
those pets who are abandoned and neglected?
Yes. Of course I do, but posts
and images such as the one above seem to forget one very fundamental thing: the people making and sharing these posts are
all dog lovers who have taken it upon themselves to speak out against the
neglect of all dogs. That is, for all
intents and purpose is a very noble cause that should, and often isn’t, be acknowledged
and applauded. The targets, however, are
not those who leave their dogs outside to freeze, or even those who leave their
dogs outside to bake in the blazing summer sun (because really, we all know
that those owners are one and the same).
All these horrible, sad and utterly gut-wrenching pictures are being
passed from dog lover to dog lover – any really, all that seems to be doing is
stoking the anger that we may feel towards those who neglect their animals
without doing much to fix the problem.
As a dog lover, wouldn’t you much rather see more of this
when you log in to your Blog/Facebook/social media site?
Because in all honesty, I know I would.
Bark back at us and let us know what you think!
Keep your tails wagging,
Bear's P4ws
Tuesday, 21 January 2014
Umm....Excuse Me....
Dear fellow tail-waggers,
Bear here. I know it's been a long, loooooong while since we last posted any news or articles or pictures of my wonderful fuzzy bum, but things had been a little whirl-windy over the past month and a bit....which sort of meant that we couldn't come online as often as we would have liked.
Mum wants me to pass on her thanks to all those who kept checking back. She says "we really appriciate it."
With any luck, we'll be jumping back into the full swing of things now that stuff has "settled down"....(I wonder what that means. Mum always tells me to settle down at bed time....)
Wishing you all woofs, barks and happy tail wags
Bear
(that's me!!)
Bear here. I know it's been a long, loooooong while since we last posted any news or articles or pictures of my wonderful fuzzy bum, but things had been a little whirl-windy over the past month and a bit....which sort of meant that we couldn't come online as often as we would have liked.
Mum wants me to pass on her thanks to all those who kept checking back. She says "we really appriciate it."
With any luck, we'll be jumping back into the full swing of things now that stuff has "settled down"....(I wonder what that means. Mum always tells me to settle down at bed time....)
Wishing you all woofs, barks and happy tail wags
Bear
(that's me!!)
Tuesday, 3 December 2013
Free To a Good Home....(or moderately decent one)
This recently slid across my Facebook news-feed. Take a few minutes to read it, and maybe even pass it on. Not only is it well-worth the read (READ TO THE END!!), but anyone looking to adopt, buy or (heaven forbid) give up an dog (or other pet for that matter) could definitely learn a few things. *This post was originally written by a wonderfully witty dog owner/advocate and was listed on Craigslist for the world to see
=)
"Hi, I have a 2 year old pure bred Great Shepdanepoo that needs to be re-homed. That's right he's a one of kind designer mutt. His mom was a German Shepherd and dad a Great Dane. Heck there might be some unicorn in there. I threw in the poo b/c it seems to make him more appealing.
Sadly I can't keep him anymore. When I first adopted him I never ever thought that I might have to move. Apparently, no pets are allowed anywhere in this country besides where I currently live. Also, I think I'm pregnant so it's okay to give him up, right? I would never do that to my future kid though. Don't worry I'll never tell my child I owned a dog only to give him up. B/c that would be teaching him or her that when life gets hard just dump your problems onto someone else and make excuses for your own lack of responsibility.
Anyways, this dog is annoying. He requires a solid exercise routine. I have to exercise him mentally and physically (that's right both kinds of exercise) for 3 hours almost everyday. I have to be out of the house by 5 am (rain or shine) to go on a bike ride with him for 45 mins. Then I play fetch, tug o war, hide n seek and other games. Followed by some training. This is all done before I go to work so he can stay asleep in his crate until I come back about 8 hours later. When I do come back I have to play with him some more, ughhhh. If I don't do this he whines and yelps the rest of the day. Who would have thought that a GSD mix would have this much energy.
He slobbers and farts a lot. He always manages to get water onto my kitchen floor instead of into his mouth. He eats everything, seriously, everything. I have to make sure that my floors are free of socks, leather/cloth materials, tissue paper, really any paper, certain shoes and small plastic things b/c he will eat it. I have to be so tidy and clean now, its frustrating. He snores like a trombone. Don't be fooled by his 80 lb body my friend b/c he is a lap dog, whether you like it or not. He barks like a maniac at anyone who walks past my fenced backyard (esp. if he hasn't been exercised). Meaning, I actually have to go outside and tell him to be quiet, otherwise he won't stop. He tracks in a s*** ton of mud. When he's sick I have to take him to the vet or else he just lies there looking lifeless. Btws, who would have thought that seeking services from a professional who went to school for 8 years or so would be expensive, really. Blows my mind.
He is great w/ kids, cats, and other dogs. But he must be supervised while around them b/c of his size. He is not super friendly towards adult strangers, just aloof. In fact, don't expect to be walking Lassie down the street. He is no eye candy. When I baby sit my mom's pure/well bred husky everybody runs up to me. Sh** ppl stop cars to come pet the husky (no joke). But when I walk my dog most ppl. just want to get to the other side of the street to avoid him; I guess he is scary looking . He does walk well on a leash but you need to be strong and firm b/c if he sees a rabbit, fox, deer, squirrel, or bicyclist (random right) he will try to run after it. So you must know how to handle that situation (and hitting him is not handling it).
All in all, when I first went to go adopt a dog I was really looking for a dog like lassie. He is nothing like it. What a disappointment.
He is up to date on all his shots, according to the second family that returned him to the shelter. Yep, his balls are gone but his sack is still there.
I've changed my mind he is no longer free. There is a re-homing fee of $300.00. I want to recoup some of the money I spent on him. Heck, I'll even throw in the cat for free. She is also a lot of work; I have to clean her litter box everyday, pet her and play with her w/ a piece of string. I just don't think I have time or money for that.
Never mind, who am I kidding. Despite everything I mentioned above I love him to death. This dog loves me despite the many flaws I have. He has loved me better than most men I have been with. And I am willing to put in the time, money and effort to keep him. B/c I know that this kind of unconditional love is hard to come by. Hope everyone here may come to that realization themselves. "
Remember, a dog's love is unconditional and forever. They give us every part of themselves completely, it's only fair that we do the same for them.
Keep your tails wagging
Bear's P4ws
Tuesday, 26 November 2013
RECALL ALERT: True Raw Choice Treat Recall
November 20, 2013 — Health Canada has announced Your True Companion Pet Products is recalling its True Raw Choice Bulk Dehydrated Natural Pet Treats due to possible contamination with Salmonella bacteria.
Recalled products include:
- Duck Feet (Lot 228870)
- Duck Wings (Lot 213825)
- Chicken Feet (Lot 214733)
- Lamb Trachea (Lot 225215)
- Chicken Breast (Lot 154339)
A total of 280 total cases of the affected treats were sold in bulk at various pet food stores across Canada.
About Salmonella
Pets such as dogs and cats (and their food) can carry Salmonella bacteria. People can get infected with the bacteria from handling pets, pet food or feces.
Symptoms of salmonellosis often include:
- Sudden onset of fever
- Stomach cramps
- Headache
- Diarrhea
- Vomiting
What to Do?
Consumers should contact Your True Companion Pet Products at 855-260-5024 if unsure if the product you have is affected or not.
As of November 8, 2013, all affected products have been disposed of in the market place.
Canadians can report any health or safety incidents related to the use of this product by filling out the Consumer Product Incident Report Form.
U.S. citizens can report complaints about FDA-regulated pet food products by calling the consumer complaint coordinator in your area.
Snack Safely and keep your tails Wagging,
Bear's P4ws
Bear's P4ws
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