Road kill

Driving up to Gainesville on Sunday I spotted an all too common sight, a dog lying dead on the side of the road. This particular dog looked like a shepherd mix of the sort that I might have fostered. He was probably someone's well-loved pet. It's a sight that fills me with both sadness and anger. And resolve.

I know that shit happens. Bad things happen to good dogs and to good dog owners. No one is perfect and some dogs seem to go out of their way to endanger themselves, having little or no common sense or instinct for self-preservation. But I also know that many such tragedies could be avoided.

I know that an unneutered dog who gets the scent of a female in estrus in the springtime will abandon any little bit of common sense that he has and will follow that scent with only the nose and testicles engaged to guide him. I know that a dog left unattended outside without any sort of fence will become bored and will wander. I know that what seems like a long and therefore safe distance to a road to us, is nothing but a hop, skip, and a jump to a dog. I know that some dogs are smart about human dangers, and others require our protection.

So I remember dogs like this one when someone tells me that they can't bear to have their dog neutered. I will remember him when someone else tells me that they don't need a fence because they live in the country. I will sure remember him when someone comes wanting another dog because their last one got killed on the road and they just want another to try again.

My first German Shepherd Dog was a solid black female named Sasha, (pictured above, and to the left with a much younger me). She was the smartest shepherd I've ever known. I realized just how smart she was one day when I heard her crying as if she was hurt. I came running, of course, to find her lying in her usual spot looking out the sliding glass door onto our deck. She wasn't crying because she was hurt, she was simply making the noise that would summon me in the fastest way possible, not for herself, but because our cat, Shooz, was scratching at the door, wanting to come in. I realized I had been tricked by the dog, perhaps in conspiracy with the cat. Reflecting on it further, I came to the conclusion that I had not been tricked so much as trained.

Now, when I see a dead dog (or cat) lying on the road, I ask Sasha to make certain that someone comes to let the dog into Doggie Heaven. I know she can make it happen.

Papa Griff

On December 1, 2008, I wrote a blog post about Griff, The Thanksgiving Rottweiler. He is living the good life now (notice his shiny coat) and he has apparently decided to get into fostering and rescue work himself. The beneficiary of Griff's new undertaking is a young fox that was found as a stray.

I don't know the entire story, or much of it at all, but apparently he likes the little guy, perhaps because he's the only creature in the household who doesn't push Griff around.

Less dogs, more flowers

My goal for the weekend was to end up with less dogs and more flowers, and I think it may have happened. I took 5 dogs to the VGSR adoption event in Gainesville today. Hope, below, went home with a nice young couple on a trial, but she's a pretty easy dog so I expect it to work out. Her eyes have cleared up significantly in the past week and I think that the pannus will be easily controlled. The adopters have cats, however, so one never knows. Hope pretty much ignored the SPCA cats that we met when I pulled her from the shelter, but as they say with diet pills and real estate investment schemes, "results may vary."


The lilac, above, has been out all week and is about past its prime now, but the scent has been wonderful, especially combined with the snowball bush in the same area. The spirea, below, is just coming on now. It's one of my favorites, bringing back memories from my grandparents' farmhouse many years ago.

Bella, below, went home with a woman and two children after her son brought their other dog to meet her. This is the one that I really, really, really want to work out so maybe we can sleep past dawn around here. I explained the dog's food allergy, but I really think it will be manageable if she sticks to a grain-free food like EVO.

Samson, Teddy, and Brady rounded out our entourage today, and although they didn't get adopted, they did meet a lot of people. Brady was charming, Teddy was cute, and Samson was neurotically attached to me. There were a couple of people interested in Samson that I was not interested in. Hint: If you wear an NRA t-shirt to an adoption event, you will probably not be leaving with one of my dogs.

On the way home I picked up about 4 cubic feet of potting mix and a flat of bedding plants. It is time to get spring gardening underway. The flowering trees, shrubs, and early iris have been beautiful, but they will be finished in another week or so, and I'll need to get the container garden in motion if I want to see any color around here for the rest of the growing season.

Juggling dogs

Walking Emmylou and Molly is a pleasure. They have figured out the harness and rigging and know that they need to stay far enough apart to keep the ropes off the ground so they don't become entangled.

Walking Chance and Brady with the same equipment is a very different experience. They don't quite understand that the walk is the thing, and they want to play with each other as they go along. Chance wants to stop and piss on everything and then Brady wants to sniff it. The first 10 minutes or so were frustrating for all of us, but eventually they settled into the walk and we got along fairly well although I did have to give up on stringing them together and had to settle for using two separate leashes.

Back at home, and following Samson's lead, Chance has taken to getting out of the pasture fence and running across the road to play with the neighbors' dog and chase cars along the road. This will get them killed, either by the neighbor, a car, or me, so they are no longer getting out to run in the pasture at the same time. Consequently, Chance isn't getting enough exercise. I'm not getting enough exercise either, so walking will be good for both of us.

I'm going to try pairing up Brady with Bella. I hate that little bitch with her high-pitched, yippy, incessant bark. She will be fine once she's adopted, but she's a pain in the ass as a foster. She and Brady are fairly close in age, speed, and size, and Brady needs to be proven with a dog other than Chance or Samson. I would love to get Bella adopted soon, and I'm taking her to Gainesville on Sunday to a VGSR adoption event. She's eating EVO now and has no allergy problem that I can see, but she's not pooping a solid stool yet, so I don't think the chances of her getting adopted this weekend are great. But she needs to go soon, very soon.

Putting Brady with Bella means that I need to separate out little Teddy, because the Brady/Bella play is just too big and too rough for him at times. They aren't mean to him, but he cries when he gets stepped on and he gets stepped on a lot.

I've been keeping Hope in a crate in the office at night, and she loves it, never makes a sound and is content in there until morning. She has been going outside during the days (in a covered kennel that she can't climb out of), for some exercise, fresh air, sunshine, and a chance to poop and pee. Samson is staying in her kennel when he's not on the road with me doing Census work and I believe that she's having a beneficial effect on him. I have had no luck getting through to him, but she gives him a growl and puts him in his place when he gets acting really stupid and it has calmed, and quieted, him down a bit. If she can bring him into line, I'll be forever indebted to her.

Multiple adopters

If I adopt a dog to someone, chances are good that I like them well enough to adopt another to them at any time. There is really no finer compliment anyone can pay me than to come back to me for another dog when they have an opening or just want to expand their pack. There is one adopter who had three of our dogs at one time, two rottweilers and a shepherd, although one of the rotties has since passed away.

Ares (or Aries) is a rottie who was abandoned at a boarding kennel. The folks who run the kennel are wonderful dog people and are breeders of champion Anatolian Shepherds. They contacted the SPCA director who contacted me, etc. Ares was a great boy, but was stressing out in the kennel and was dropping weight like crazy. You can see how thin he is in the pictures above and he had scratched up his face on the kennel.

He was adopted by a wonderful couple who live up near Warrenton. They had previously adopted one of Lilly's rottie/dobie pups from me and they already had a saintly female rottie named Ebony, who took it upon herself to raise the puppy.

I'd glady give them any rottweiler I had, anytime they want one. Great rottie adopters are few and far between, but when you find one, they are the best. Here's a couple of recent pics of Ares, who is now a hefty 120 pounds of love.

Cabell Dog

Someone asked about Cabell, specifically about his breed. That's a very good question. Actually, we know more about Cabell than we know about some mixed breed dogs because Cabell's mother was known and she was a Saint Bernard. What else has gone into Cabell's make up is pure conjecture, but it came out very nicely.

We got Cabell as a pup from Animal Connections, which is how we got involved with that group. We had Gypsy, Vito, and Jack in those days and had gone into Pet Supplies Plus in Charlottesville to buy food. Animal Connections was there and we ended up with Cabell. Really it was Clay's idea, not mine, to adopt another at that time. Gypsy needed a friend (someone to boss around) because Vito and Jack pretty much hung out together and tried to ignore her.

In writing this post, I realized I didn't have many good pictures of Cabell. When I took the camera downstairs to redress that problem, I discovered why. Cabell is very camera shy.

He has a wonderful, very toothy, smile, and a world class tail. He and Gypsy play very roughly, we call it Cabell-style play, but he doesn't hurt other dogs and he's sweet and gentle with everyone. He's a good dog to have on your side in a fight, however, and he will immediately jump to Gypsy's defense if she starts something with another dog.

Cabell leads the singing at our house. A group howl never really gets started unless he takes it up. He has a lovely voice, which blessedly, he uses sparingly. Cabell is also an excellent predictor of bad weather. When bad weather approaches he will retreat to the space under the stairway (the Cabell Cave) or into the tiny bathroom under the stairs where he tries to hide behind the toilet.

Because of his original foster home, he absolutely adores women and children, and the poor guy has neither in his life now. When we go to the vet, I make sure he sees a female vet and vet techs, because he's unbelievably cooperative with them.

Cabell is a dog we can take anywhere, but he's very low-key, mellow, and non-demanding. In horse terms, he's an "easy keeper." It's hard to believe, but he's nine years old now. He's showing some gray but looks good and seems very healthy. We love him.

One of Cabell's grandmothers used to speak disparagingly about his looks. I won't mention Clay's mother's name to spare her the angry emails, but we think he's very handsome. His coat is the color of a ripe wheat field and his eyes are like honey. What's not to like?

p.s. What's the story with the name, you ask? If you were from this part of Virginia you wouldn't need to ask. It's a fairly common name around here, both as a given name and as a surname.

Party animals

A good friend of mine had a party a couple weeks ago. He had it in the spring this year rather than summer to avoid the heat, managed to dodge a rain storm, and ended up with a beautiful spring day. Most everyone who knows me knows that I'm not generally keen on parties, but this one was different-- the canine guests easily outnumbered the people.

Clay was out of town or something, so I went alone. Well, not really alone, I took Emmylou and Cabell.

There were dogs everywhere. This was a big house, big deck, huge yard, but you couldn't walk anywhere without parting a sea of dogs. Incredibly, everyone got along. If there were any altercations, I never heard or saw it, although there was the potential for an epic dog fight. There was also a ton of food, which the dogs also seemed to leave alone. I can't turn my back on Bremo, our kitchen rottweiler, for a moment, but the dogs at the party seemed to be too busy socializing to pay much attention to the food.

Emmylou, of course, was in her element. She loves greeting everyone and she had several old friends in the crowd that she had to speak to. Cabell enjoyed it too. Cabell misses out on a lot of social events because he's Gypsy's pet and she doesn't see the need for social activities that involve any people outside the home. But Cabell likes people and other dogs, so I took him along.

Most of the dogs there were German Shepherds or mixes thereof, with a few other odds and ends thrown in. Cabell was unique and no one seemed surprised to learn that he was my dog. I'm not sure what to make of that.