Exposed

A young couple was riding down the road. First road trip together. Happy as could be. Along with them was the husband's trusty dog. Its a package deal of course. She puts up with the dog for her love of him. Windows down. Life couldn't be better except the wind blown hair plastered across her face. The look at him through held back bangs - his guilt for wanting to have a good time. A/C on and the windows go up. The first deal breaker to be exposed comes through the vents. How could he have withheld this vital piece of information?!

An enclosed and extremely small environment emits the first accusation. He had smelly feet! Did her friends know this? How could her parents not say anything? In horror, he deflects the question. No one had told him this either in all of his 27 years. All she could think about was the betrayal, what her friends were thinking of her new beau, the last time he might have washed his feet based on the rating his smell had on the obnoxious scale, and the fortune it would cost at a pediatrist if she did not want to be embarrassed. All he can think about was, "What the hell is she talking about!" Unspoken words - clear emotional discomfort. Until, that is, the dog put his comforting paw on her shoulder.

The smell clearly coming from whatever it was he stepped in prior to hopping into the car. Something dead apparently.

It was the last time an accusation was raised by her in their relationship. A dog paw of a misunderstanding you might say. The lesson for her was to question before accusation. The lesson for him? Wash his dog's goddamn feet.

More Measure Than a Cup - Neely's Story

We named her Neely-Noel. “Neely” came from a book my mother had read. It sounded southern. I added the name “Noel” because it was the French word for Christmas, the season that was coming up. I never thought to feminize the name, as would have been appropriate. In her fourteen and one-half years of life, she had more than twenty-five nicknames.  She was Punky, Punky Girl, Habla Neechie, Cani, Canitti, Pretty Girl, Priddy Priddy; the list was long. Each of them had a distinct meaning; but, really, she was just Neely.

Neely chose us. I was not there when it happened.  I was at my uncle and aunt’s home. The family had gathered for Thanksgiving, when my aunt suckered my mother into wanting to look for a dog. My reluctant step-father went along, too—determined to help prevent this from happening, I’m sure. They said when they approached the litter of dogs, it was Neely who stopped bounding around her own mother to come to them.  She went straight for my step-father. It was over, then. Neely had made the choice; Neely chose us.

She barked little responses in ways that made me sometimes wonder how she understood us, but she communicated best with her eyes. Any look from Neely let us know what she was feeling. She also became a better mirror for us than our own reflections from the glass. Like other dogs, she noticed our happiness and joys as well as our failures and sadness. She knew when to crawl into your lap; she understood that occasionally sitting next to you was all that was required. She enjoyed vanilla Oreos, and loved vanilla ice cream.  She was independent and fully aware of whom she was. On road-trips, she would not be satisfied unless she was in the driver’s lap. Only a little dog can truly drive a family forward.

In her years, she walked on top of the wall on Stadium Drive on the Appalachian State Campus. Mom called it “Neely’s Wall.” She frequently accompanied us on trips wherever we would go. She sat by as my mom authored two books, which one neighbor reminded us immortalized her name and image… she is on the back cover. In a way only a little dog can, Neely got us through some tough times in our lives, crawling into our laps to remind us that even in death and heartache there is still much love.

She accompanied my mother to the beach in summer, 2009. It was then that she first fell ill, and when doctors told that she could not live long. My mother returned in her car to home and arranged a trip to a local, specialized veterinarian who helped stabilize and extend Neely’s life. We attribute eighteen extra months to her treatment, and are thankful beyond words.

But, time still marches on, so they say. The last days were difficult. No longer could there be the Neely who would prop herself up on a ball and juggle it across the floor, happily panting and barking. We were not seeing the Neely who brought a toy to play tug-of-war or catch. There were little flickers here or there of the dog of the past who bounded with a smile and filled the room with her presence. Her breathing now labored, she seemed less and less comfortable. It was painful to imagine her suffering.

Neely-Noel was the perfect dog for our family, and I hope we were the perfect family for her. A little being as small as Neely should never have as much love as she contained. It is beyond the rules of physics that a cup should measure more than a cup. Yet, those rules were never tested against Neely. From the moment she approached my step-father, she poured an abundance of love to us. Her little cropped tail never failed to wag when she would see us—until the final morning.

My parents took her in on Sunday morning to the animal hospital.  The doctors treated her with the best care they could give, and told my parents treatment could make her comfortable to go home, but that she would likely be back within a week. Difficult as it was, they both knew the time had come. I daresay Neely chose her time, as well.

She was wrapped in a blanket my mother had crocheted for me. At some point, I had given it to her. She also had beside her a little brown rabbit, her gift from Easter. The doctors brought her in, and she took her place on my mother’s lap; the only way a dog like her could go. They injected her with a sedative, which normally makes some dogs a little tense. But not Neely. She received the final medication that would give her the only comfort that we, ourselves, could never have given her.

Like any true eulogy, words alone can never accomplish the task of describing the loss of a loved one. No master wordsmith could put them together to reveal the sentiment of loss. Memories are the only thing that we have. She now resides where only the ghosts of memory dwell. I go to the ghost, and I see she returns joyful to be the dog that she always was and shall ever be to those who knew her.  How do you tell the world about the ghost that lives only in your mind? 


Written by Charles Jeremy Cannada, Presbyterian Minister, and son of Neely's mom, Sandi Huddleston-Edwards, Duke Energy Employee, CPCC adjunct English Professor and author of Richard's Key and Roy's Sandman.

"The blessings and depths of our lives are further extended from the relationships brought forth between we human's and our dogs. Color their world (and yours) - Adopt!" -Joe Katon

Running Dogs - An Introduction

You look in the mirror and decide today is the day - it's time you get in shape! Your first goal is to run five miles. You hate running alone.. You look down at your best dog and say, "We're going to do this together!" At your feet rests a teacup Chihuahua. As bizarre as this scenario might be, it proves a point.

In this series of posts in the Dog Cafe, we're taking the time to examine the possibilities of running with your dog.

What makes a dog a running companion? While I used a teacup in the example, the reality is that not all dogs make for runners. Even if she looks like she could be. Athletic trainers take into consideration a person's health conditions prior to creating a workout regiment. Do the same thing for your dog. The first place to always start with your dog should be to ensure she is fully trained for the Structured Walk prior to running with her in any form, and you and your dog should visit your Veterinarian. Have her legs, joints and ligaments examined. Examine to find out if your dog has a healthy heart as many dogs suffer from heart murmurs which make runs impossible. For the running dog, make sure these issues are checked along with your typical annual exam. Just like a runner, make sure the dog's diet is also addressed. Dogs burn calories too.

Is there a general guideline of breeds that are best at running? Yes, some dogs are better built for stamina than others. However, even a highly bred dog used for that purpose alone can develop issues. I raised bird dogs. Having one with three knee operations was proof of that. There should never be an assumption made with your dog's health or build. We hope you have chosen to rescue your dog - this can often mean a mixed breed. Mixed breeds can be just as hearty as the pure breeds. Again, we suggest a visit with your Veterinarian. For an overview of pure bred dogs (PLEASE ADOPT), this list should come in handy from Runners World Magazine.

What are the age parameters? 9 months old to a year (to ensure full bone and muscle development) up to approximately 6 to 7 years old depending on the dog. Your Veterinarian can better help determine when she might need to retire. The most critical phase of a dog's development is in the beginning. Many hip dysplasia issues directly stem from the bone to muscle development.

Why is running my dog a good idea? By now, you have become a champion with our Structured Walks. You know the power of being a pack leader. You have encouraged everyone you know to get rid of their retractable leashes and can explain to them why. If you need a refresher on a step-by-step guide to make this happen, see our Tips on How to Properly Walk Your Dog. The purpose of the Structured Walk is two fold: 1) it works the dog physically, and 2) it works the dog mentally. These are the most important reasons that build the foundation for all other training inside and outside of the home. Dog should be fully trained for the Structured Walk prior to running with her in any form.Training your dog to run besides you, even on a bike, serves the same purpose. Dogs are most balanced when they rely upon you for direction with you in the position of pack leader.

Lastly in this issue, we'll briefly discuss getting prepared with essential active dog items.In brief, consider taking with you the following:

Water bottles, folding canvas water bowl, play items for the middle and/or end of the run, some training treats, and a doggy first aid kit (a great list of items for the kit can be found here from Petfinder). 

When I walk my dog, even while training for the structured walk for balance, I make it a fun experience. Running should be the same way. In the next issue of Running Dogs, we'll examine the details of the physical run. Until then, schedule a visit with your Veterinarian and get prepared.

Tips on How to Properly Walk your Dog

***PLEASE CONSULT YOUR PERSONAL DOG TRAINER FOR SPECIFIC TIPS THAT WILL WORK BEST FOR YOU AND YOUR DOG***

This is an article from close friend, Richard Heinz, The Miami Dog Whisperer:

WHO'S WALKING WHOM? -  DOG WALKING ANYONE CAN DO!

Featured in: Dogs Are OK Magazine

One of the most important things to do when you get a new puppy, or adopt an adult dog from a shelter, is learn how to properly walk your dog on a leash so that the experience for both you and your dog is both enjoyable and serves it’s purpose.

When you walk your dog on a leash, you may think you are doing it to help the dog go potty outside, or get the dog, and yourself, some exercise. All of these reasons are valid, however, there is a bigger purpose, walking your dog on a leash serves. 

Dogs are pack animals. Walking your dog on a leash establishes you as the leader of the pack. 


How does this happen? Well, the general public opinion is that it is okay and even natural, to allow your dog to walk ahead of you, pull you and sniff the ground in front of you.  

You have seen those who if you look closely, they are not the ones walking their dog, but it is the other way around!

To the dog, when you allow them to “lead” you, they become the pack leader. Their respect for you diminishes, because now they are ahead of you on the food chain and you will find that this behavior will eventually affect the relationship in the home, as well.

If you have ever seen a pack of wild dogs, and most of us have not, but wolves are the closest we can get, you will see that the leader of the pack, always, ALWAYS, is the head of the pack and the others will be either beside them or a few steps behind. The leader of the pack has the responsibility to protect the members and to lead them.

If your dog feels they
have the responsibility
to protect and
lead you, then they
will feel off balance,
become aggressive towards
other dogs and people,
and not give you the respect
you expect from them!

They may become nervous, anxious and dysfunctional. Other behavior issues will surface and you will not realize it all stems from simply not knowing how to walk your dog properly.

Any time you see a dog acting aggressive or lunging at another dog, or passerby while on a leash, or simply going out of control, be it on the walk, or at home, it is telling you a story about the relationship that the owner has with their dog, what is going on inside the dog and how the dog views their place in the pack. If your dog is acting aggressive, you can almost guarantee, that it is a lack of confidence and of respect for their owner and the ability of the owners to protect and lead them.  Therefore, the dog feels that they are supposed to be the leader of your pack, a position they are not prepared or able to handle, and their world goes out of balance.

Well, it is the rules of the breed, it is their nature and  you can prove it easily. Learn a few dog training techniques on how to properly walk your dog, and begin doing it correctly, and you will immediately notice how it translates to every issue and relationship milestone that you are facing.

Dog Training Tips on how to walk your dog properly:

1. You need the proper equipment (training collar and 6 foot non-retractable leash) –no harnesses please, these are made for pulling. 
2. When walking out the house, make sure you go first out the door and your dog follows, not the other way around.
3. Once outside, dog should be on your left side. Not in front of you, not behind you, but directly in step with you. Their nose should be in sync with your left knee (or hip or ankle depending on the size of the dog) 
4. Your right hand should be in the handle, the leash should be in front of left thigh and it should make a “J” coming up to your right hand, which you place in front of your belly button. 
5. You will leave your hand there the whole time. NO PULLING, TUGGING, or SHOVING your dog. 
6. Simply walk and the dog will keep step with you. 
7. If you see that the dog wonders off, or tries to pull, you put your whole body into it and turn the opposite direction in order to get their mind back on walking properly. Dog goes right, you go left, dog goes left you go right and so on. 
8. If you do this a few times, then you will see that your dog will no longer walk away and try to pull, but will keep step with you throughout the whole walk. 
9. This technique works, but it takes time to perfect it. Keep at it and practice it every time you go out on a walk. 
10. When you want your dog to go potty, simply say “Okay” and allow the dog to go to the grass and sniff and potty. Once done, you regain control of the walk and keep going.

Remember, bad habits are hard to break and it takes some practice for both you and your dog to get into proper walking mode. However, once this is accomplished, you can feel confident, it will make your life and your pooches life much more balance and enjoyable.

The Structured Walk

Caffeine Central would like to start a movement throughout the Carolinas and throughout the country to END the use of retractable leashes.

***FOR SPECIFIC TRAINING TACTICS FOR YOUR DOG, PLEASE CONSULT YOUR PERSONAL DOG TRAINER***

Fact: Dogs live healthier happier lives when they are balanced with no stress. Unfortunately, we as humans place a lot of human characteristics and psychology onto our dogs. The reality is that dog psychology has not changed much from their wolf ancestors. Dog emotion and human emotion are extremely different.

A dog is balanced, easier to handle, and trouble free when we as humans be their pack leader. This means giving dog rules, boundaries and limitations. A dog becomes more stress free when they no longer have to play the leadership role because their human cannot. A dog on a retractable leash has to fulfill this role of leader.

Retractable leashes do not provide the structure necessary to mentally stimulate your dog. Nor do retractable leashes create the trust bond vital in the dog/human relationship. Structured walks are essential training tactics that make all other training and rehabilitation possible. This kind of walk forces the dog to follow you as the leader instead of you following him. If performed correctly, the leash will be loose (see video below).

If you have even the smallest issue arise (fight, flight, fear, or aggression), the structured walk, where the dog walks along side of you, stops when you stop, and turns when you turn, can easily be controlled. No dog should pull their human. The behavior that a retractable leash instills translates to all other poor behaviors. If dog has no rules or boundaries outside, I guarantee other behaviors are present when the dog is inside and off leash.

Don't look to the dog for behavioral problems (even the slightest ones). Look to the owner who has not taken the time to create structure for their dog. Why should a dog be stressed to make human decisions? Instead, the dog becomes more balanced when we say, "Hey, trust me. Follow me. Relax. I have everything under control." The dog is more apt to take our guidance (even averting a horrible dog fight) when we are paying attention to the dog's signals. Balance requires we humans to have the dog under control, relaxed, waiting for our next directions.

 

Featured is Josie, Caffeine Central's guardian Xoloitzcuintli. Note her loose leash. Even when a car passes by, she remains calm and relaxed looking for her next instruction. This is balanced. She stops when her human stops. 

Make a commitment today to take your dog out for a structured walk at least once a day. Simply throwing your dog into the back yard isn't enough. If you can do more than one walk per day, you'll notice an even quicker improvement in your dogs personality and behavior. 

Caffeine wants to hear your dogs updates via commenting to this post or joining the discussion on Twitter. Click on our Contact Us page for ways to get in touch with us with any questions. 

Humane Society of York County - Fundraiser

 

Dates: November 13-14

Time: Sat 9am-6pm

Sun 2pm-6pm

Location: Lakeside Paws & Claws

4382 Charlotte Hwy

Lake Wylie, SC 29710

803-631-4766

From the Road - Ode's Story

Ode’s story begins a couple years before she was born.

Daisy

Our little girl was Daisy. A big, beautiful Belgian Tervuren, we had rescued her four years earlier. She was a helper dog for an elderly woman, and apparently wasn’t performing the way the woman needed her to, so the woman got a puppy and started to train the puppy, locking Daisy in a crate.

As you might imagine Daisy started acting out, and the woman was going to put her down. A rescue organization called Animal Crusaders stepped in and we found Daisy at an adoption fair.

Daisy was the first dog my wife and I took in together, and she was a great dog. She was smart, and seemed to know what she had in us. She gave as good as she got. We loved her very much.

While my wife was on her internship out of state, Daisy became ill. A number of vets couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong, until one determined that she had cancer.

My wife had been gone for five months. On the day my wife came home for summer break, we had to let Daisy go.

I picked my wife up at the airport in Phoenix, we drove home to Tucson and went straight to the vet hospital where we said goodbye. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and we were completely devastated.

Almost two years went by, and we still felt Daisy’s loss. Life moves forward. Always forward.

We just didn’t feel ready for a new dog. We talked about it a time or two, but it just didn’t feel right.

On a January day in 2007, my wife was working just outside of Phoenix, inspecting a truck stop (she’s a food safety and quality assurance auditor.)  As she walked through the parking lot looking for trip hazards, she felt like someone was watching her. She turned, and there stood a little desert dog. My wife checked around, no one had seen the dog before. My wife went to her car and opened the back door. The little desert dog jumped in and immediately laid down.

Ode

When I met her later that day she was skin and bone and she had a pretty serious wound on the inside of her rear leg. She drank a lot of water, ate some food, and slept for the next 24 hours. Frankly, I wasn’t sure she would survive the night.

When she woke up, she was a completely different dog, playful, energetic, chasing the cats around the house. My wife and I had talked about if we could keep her. I insisted I still wasn’t ready, but when she woke up and I saw those eyes and that smile, I knew there was no way this dog would live anywhere but with us.

We weren’t ready for another dog after the heartbreak of losing Daisy, even after two years, but this little girl knew different. When we tell the story, we tell people that she found us- she decided we were ready.

Now we had to find a name, it had to fit. We talked about it, did some research, nothing seemed right.

Then I looked in an Egyptian to English dictionary (we were exhausting every possibility) and we discovered the word “Ode’.” It’s pronounced “Oh-day” and it means “from the road.” It seemed appropriate, and our little desert dog finally had a name.

I don’t know what Ode’s life was like before she found us. I can guess by the condition she was in that it was a hard-scrabble existence. She was thin, dehydrated, wounded. The truck stop where she found us was right next to the biggest highway in Arizona.

Now as I watch her napping on our California King-sized bed, nestled in the covers and snoring softly, I’m thinking that her life is much different than it was before she found us. Much better.

Just like ours.

Brian and Terra Baltosiewich relocated to Charlotte, NC in March, 2010. While they have settled into their new home, Ode' has enjoyed familiarizing herself squirrels. 

Brian Baltosiewich owns Radio Exiles and Terra is a successful food industry health inspector

How do you say that?!

Josie is too adorable for words!

Today was Josie’s first day of daycare. She is a Xoloitzcuintli (pronounced sho-lo-skwink-le), or Mexican Hairless Dog. The Xoloitzcuintli is the national dog of Mexico. According to the Xoloitzcuintle Club USA, Xoloitzcuintle was regarded as the earthly representative of the god Xolotl from which the name originates. In Mesoamerican art, Xolotl is portrayed as a man with a dog’s head. He was said to have created a protector and guide for humans in the underworld in the form of the hairless dog, the Xoloitzcuintle. Its task was to accompany the souls of the dead to the eternal resting place. It is estimated that the breed dates back 3,000 years and was a companion of the Colima, Mayan and Aztec Indians.


The website www.dogbreedinfo.com says that the Aztecs enjoyed the hairless dogs as pets, but also found them useful. They would even use the toy version of the breed as ancient hot-water bottles to relieving stomach pains and rheumatic joints, or simply for warming beds during cold nights. Extreme cold made for a “Three Dog Night.” I know that’s something to make me sing “Joy to the World!”
Whatever her ancient history, we’re so glad that Josie is here to help keep our playrooms warm now that summer is ending!


Originally featured on Dogtopia of Charlotte's Doggy Blog
Thank you Nicole Pennell of DOGTOPIA for featuring Josie!

Bobby DeMuro and KOTA

I recently ran the Humane Society of Charlotte's Pet Palooza 5k, with one of my client's beautiful dogs by my side, and something clicked - it was time for a dog.

I had a few concerns going into the process... because of my job (I run a personal training/sports conditioning company) I am in and out of the house quite a bit, and my schedule involves some weird hours (I get up at 3:15 am every week day, for example). I also don't have a ton of room in my house for a big dog - or so I thought.

I knew I wanted to adopt from HS of Charlotte. I have friends with expensive pure-bred dogs, and they're cool, but I wanted to rescue. So two weeks ago, I drove down to their facility on Toomey Road and went through the kennels.

The First Meeting
A few things stuck out about Dakota. Off the bat, she struck me as different. As I walked around, every dog in every kennel was playing, barking, jumping, running around, and interacting with me. Dakota just laid there - she barely even looked up at me. I kept coming back, walking by, standing in front of her kennel - and still, nothing.

Eventually, she stood up. Whoa - definitely looked like a pit bull. Her information sheet called her a "Boxer Mix," but to my untrained eye, she looked ALL pit bull and no boxer. With my limited (and wrong) perception of pit bulls, I knew I didn't want to get into that world.

But even so, she was SO calm that I had to see more. I had a volunteer take her out so I could play with her. I won't lie - I was a little intimidated. She still looked like a pit bull to me, and even though she was sweet, I was a little iffy on the whole thing.

About half an hour into our playing session, she dropped down at my feet, rolled over, and showed me her belly. I scratched her for about ten minutes as she looked up at me, as if to say "you are going to be my human. I'm really cool, and I'm really relaxed. Just trust me." OK.

I filled out the paperwork, and the very next day, it went through - and two days later, Dakota (or, as she is now known, "Kota") came home. She had a few accidents on the first few days, and she didn't eat a lot, but I was told both things are pretty normal (and they were), and she eventually settled into my daily routine.

The Routine
We get up at 3:00 every morning, because Kota and I take an extra 15-minute run before I leave for work around 4:15. After my morning training sessions, I come home to my little girl - and no matter how long I've been gone, she acts as though it's the first time she's seen me in months. She goes CRAZY - ears down, rolls on her back, tail going 100 miles per hour. She even wags her entire butt for a few minutes (which makes me think she's more lab than pit bull/boxer...).

We run together every afternoon or evening, depending on my work schedule. In a typical day, between morning and night, we'll run 3-4 miles. She makes me so proud because every time out, she pulls a little bit less, she listens a little bit more, and she runs a little bit better. I wouldn't run without her, but I look forward to it when we are together!

And after runs, she's exhausted. My only beef with her at this point, regarding her lounge time, is that she takes up a good 2/3 of the couch. Keep in mind, she's only 52 pounds...

"Her" Human
I knew that I was "her" human on the second day she was with me. Two things happened on that day. Late that morning, I ran out to my car (about 50 feet from my place) to pick something up, and left her inside. I was gone for maybe 90 seconds. When I opened the door and came back in, she acted like I had been gone for a year. She was attached!

Later in the day, she showed me her loyalties. I live on the second floor, and so I often keep my balcony door open for her to run out, check out the walking path and street, and keep tabs on the outside world while we're hanging out. She went out there that day, and started growling. The hair on the back of her neck and all the way down her spine went straight up in the air, as she came sprinting back to me in my office.

She started whining as she climbed all the way on top of me in my desk chair. Her tail was wagging and her ears were down. She led me out to the balcony, where I saw (keep in mind, like 40 feet away) a miniature dachshund walking with its owner down the street. Kota, who was now sitting on my feet, looked at me, hair on her neck standing up, as if to say "Daddy, see? That was a threat. That dog was on OUR territory. I am trying to protect you Daddy! That dog won't get through me!"

At that point, I was totally sold. She's the sweetest, most calm dog I could have asked for, and she already knows to protect me and look out for me. As I write this, she's sound asleep on the couch next to me. Every time I get up to do something, she gets up and sits at my heels. To some people, that's probably annoying. But that's the reason I got a dog in the first place!

I hope more people consider going the rescue dog route in the future - I have noticed that so many rescue dogs, Kota included, are so eager to please, and so aware of their human's emotions and actions. When I'm in a bad mood, Kota knows it - after just a week together. Plain and simple - she needs love. And she gives it back abundantly. She's a great best friend!

Bobby DeMuro is the Chairman, Founder and CEO of FusionSouth LLC

For the Little Things You Do - Roxi's Story

I love that you were the only one shaking nervously in the farthest corner of the kennel, trying to hide from the world while your brothers and sisters were jumping all over me yelping "Pick me, pick ME!"

I love that when I said "That one, in the corner..." you gave the kennel manager a run for his dirty money.

When I held you for the first time, you stopped shaking.

When we went home that very same day, we both looked at each other as if to say "Oh shit, what do we do now?" And then you squatted and proceeded to do just that all over the front porch.

Your "bent" right ear that droops forward. 


How you used to "escape" from your teether and run to the neighbor's garden to dig up their veggies.

Even when you found your sneaky way into my garden, I knew I couldn't stay mad long.

I loved watching you dig for worms in the stream that ran through our front yard.

How you'd bark to high heaven at the lawn mower.

When we moved, you never let up on that "How could you be doing this?" look. 

When you would go hungry so I could feed my habit, you never left my side.

You put up with hours in your kennel while I went to work, trying to forget the feel of cool grass on your back and mud in between your paws.

In my darkest hour, you loved me when I couldn't love you back.


Your forgiving, unconditional heart. 

You jump up and have to, HAVE TO get in a "kiss" on my chin each and every time I come home.

When I'm having private time on the potty, it doesn't bother you one bit to barge right in.

How you get excited every morning to take our walks to the football fields. 


The way you hunt for lizards.

How you scramble over the red rocks on our hikes. 

How you nozzle my hand when it's not doing anything on my lap when it could be rubbing behind your ears.

When you act all tough around the smaller doggies and about pee yourself when the big ones arrive at the doggie park.

You're never far. 



How you bark at the bad people. 

When you run, full speed - you take my breath away.
More from Roxi and her Mom Jennifer Nunn can be found on her blog:
Something Within
And on Twitter: @IHavDefX

Sarah Nell - Part One

As many of my closest friends can tell you, I probably was a Veterinarian in my former life.If I wasn't, I probably should be in this one. Another career change? I spent years in the field hunting and training dogs. I find with ownership of an animal comes great responsibility. I'm not simply talking about the basics of food, water and shelter. When running dogs in the field, I feel that one must learn what it takes to do everything in their power to treat all forms of injuries. Let me tell you, I have seen the gambit. 

My best English Pointer, Sheen's Elhew Slough (Susie Q or simply Q to me) was such an example. Q came at a point in life where the companionship of a dog meant everything. It still does. I suppose it is the nonjudgmental, compassionate love a dog gives. After three knee injuries due to running in the field hunting quail, I realized that I owed more to her than my selfish hunting endeavors for sport and food. Needless to say, I put my guns down and turned my life towards being a compassionate steward for animals and dogs. As the old saying goes, "I want to be the kind of person my dog thinks I am."

Turn the page by a few years. I was walking back from a dog park in sunny Coconut Grove, Florida. I had four dogs in tow. We must have been a sight to see. Along came a man in a van basically dumping unwanted puppies on unsuspecting people. Those people who couldn't resist a cute puppy. My heart broke. Dumping dogs is a common practice. Low and behold the puppies were English Pointer mixes. Unmistakable. A quick thought ran through my mind: I could take one off his hands and save one, or I could allow him to drive off unknowing the fate of them all. What would you do?

I would take a dog and cross my fingers the rest would not either die on the streets or end up in a kill shelter. Plus, how could I resist the look a gun dog gives... especially as a puppy. There was just one problem. Now what? My crew was already at 4, the county limit, with another one at my parents house. The plan was to take the little puppy to a pet store where a rescue group gathered each Saturday in an attempt to find forever homes for many adoptable dogs.

I had an interview with the rescue group and explained my plight. I guess I had a precedent in the town of knowing a lot about hunting breeds. The rescue group knew of me, those I associated with, and the Veterinarian I trusted all of my dogs' lives to. Our arrangement was simple. I would foster the dog until a suitable adopter could be found. I would take the puppy to the pet store every Saturday until she was adopted out. I could put up with the puppy pee in the condo. At least the puppy would get a home. Her life was spared.

The puppy's first Saturday visit to be adopted out was to be her last with me. I dropped her off and headed out to do errands. One of these errands was to get a new sofa. Having multiple dogs, who are allowed to sleep on the furniture by the way, I decided the old sofa was too far gone to clean and deodorize. Upon my return to pick up the puppy, our little tiny foster pointer grew into a 12 year old 74 pound German Shorthaired Pointer. This wasn't the dog I dropped off! This wasn't the dog I fostered or allowed to pee and poop all over our house.

It was Sarah Nell. This dog was in bad shape. She was over bred, had a nasty infection of some sort affecting her skin, and her right eye was solid blue white from a cataract. She looked like death warmed over. The owner of the rescue group quickly rushed over. "Joe, I know your background. I know you know about the breed. I need your help." Older dogs are not easily adopted out. Adoptions become even more difficult when the dog is in poor health. The rescue group would keep my foster puppy until her adoption if I would take Sarah. Not just as a foster mind you. There was to be no paperwork, no adoption forms or a fee. Simply to spare her life.


Should I do it? I was already at my limit. Could I care for such a dog in need? What were the responsibilities of this? How much time did she have left? Selfishness... Self-centered... I knelt down so that we could stare at each other face-to-face. Sarah was panting and nervous. I gazed into her left good eye. I wondered where she had been, and who was her former owner. I thought about what she must have gone through. I thought she must have been abandoned or a stray for years. I stood up, gave Sarah a scratch on her head. I asked the rescue group to give me until the morning to make arrangements. The rescue group agreed and said that Sarah's Estate handlers would call me first thing in the morning.

Estate?

(to be continued)