tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-271657992024-03-13T10:52:20.775-07:003 Woofs & A Woo on Wootube!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger333125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-11315222772217763792010-03-16T20:17:00.001-07:002010-03-16T20:19:31.568-07:00So long, farewell ....<div style="text-align: center;">Say good bye to 3WAAW on Blogspot folks.<br /><br />:(<br /><br />BUT - say hello to <a href="http://www.wootube.net/">WOOTUBE</a> at its own domain!<br /><br />Please change your bookmarks - new posts will no longer be appearing on the blogger platform and although this blog will remain up, it will be stuck in statis!<br /><br />Keep up with the program - join us at <a href="http://www.wootube.net/">wootube.net</a><br /><br />See you on the flipside, babies!!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-81818147941760218652010-03-15T17:34:00.000-07:002010-03-15T17:53:21.950-07:00You may not remember me<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">but my name is Mr. Woo. You haven't seen me in quite some time.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*drips sarcasm*</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436228765/" title="y0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4041/4436228765_847b1740e1.jpg" alt="y0004" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The Food Lady is too good for us lowly dogs these days. She never bothers to photograph us anymore. She doesn't even know how to use the camera these days.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">See?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436217019/" title="z00011 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4043/4436217019_63d6796cc0.jpg" alt="z00011" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I don't understand what the problem is. It's not like that boring old dog is taking up all her time anymore. She sent that ole' bag of bones packing so he went back home.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4437000320/" title="y0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4004/4437000320_23c79d3fbf.jpg" alt="y0003" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">There's a lot less swearing in the house now. But also a lot less leftovers.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">All weekend long she totally ignored us. I decided to to beat some sense into her with this big stick I found, but Piper and Tweed wouldn't let me.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436984414/" title="z0008 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2804/4436984414_85046493db.jpg" alt="z0008" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Tweed wasn't really into it. He had another plan to punish The Food Lady and drive her crazy - all weekend long at the agility trial he said he did something called "blowing her off," "flipping her off" and "giving her the bird." I don't know what it means, but he seemed pretty satisfied with himself afterward.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436203625/" title="z0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4016/4436203625_f993e6a0a6.jpg" alt="z0005" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">He spent a lot of time reflecting on what he calls his "Missing Contacts and What-Are-Weave-Pole-Entries-Anyway" plan.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436974158/" title="z0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2707/4436974158_f4f1b408cc.jpg" alt="z0003" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Except it didn't work. TFL says she still loves him anyway.</span><br /><br />She still loves me?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436224327/" title="y0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4035/4436224327_0df070b3bd.jpg" alt="y0002" height="500" width="340" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And Piper is just a suck up.</span><br /><br />"*I* didn't miss any poles or contacts. Of course, I didn't run in the trial this weekend, but still. I'm a perfect princess."<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436221667/" title="z00014 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4055/4436221667_cc942991f3.jpg" alt="z00014" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dexter is a spaz. He can't be trusted with any Food Lady Punishment plans.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436205591/" title="z0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4037/4436205591_ce27701516.jpg" alt="z0006" height="500" width="350" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Now The Food Lady says she is busy working on making us more famous by redesigning the blog, so she STILL doesn't have much free time to photograph us.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*sigh* My life is so hard.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4436223193/" title="y0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2769/4436223193_a301e39f38.jpg" alt="y0001" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Please tell The Food Lady to spend more time with us!</span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-81829106112303067302010-03-08T20:25:00.000-08:002010-03-08T20:43:27.465-08:00See Sport Run<div style="text-align: center;">PSYCH!!!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4419191742/" title="spo2 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4036/4419191742_4b934165b1.jpg" alt="spo2" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Of course Sport does not run. But he DID shuffle determinedly after Tweed a couple of times, just like the old days, whilst we were playing DumbBall.<br /><br />Sporty can't go for long walks, so we compromise - once a day he gets to come clatter around the horse paddock while the other dogs play ball. For the other walk of the day, I slip him a Percocet, he goes to sleep on the big pillow and I take the dogs out for a long run without him.<br /><br />However, yesterday Sporty accompanied us all the way down to the barn and back. He seemed to really enjoy it - so much so that when I let everyone out for an afternoon pee, he took himself for a second walk down to the barn without me. Then he got lost, so I had to go retrieve him. Fortunately, he moves very slowly.<br /><br />But he's pretty handsome for an old guy, huh?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4419185504/" title="spo1 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4011/4419185504_c6cdc8108b.jpg" alt="spo1" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />This morning at breakfast he said that he didn't want his food, he wanted what everyone else was getting, so he got a bowl of tripe, which he ate!<br /><br />For dinner, he ate a bag of sample kibble that the nice folks at <a href="http://www.elementalcanine.com/elemental/Welcome.html">Elemental Canine</a> gave us to try out. He also ate two slices of processed "cheeze" and about 4 mouthfuls of his actual, 40-minutes-to-prepare meal.<br /><br />I rather enjoy having Sporty around. I do wish he'd close his eyes when he sleeps though, because I keep thinking he's dead.<br /><br />But he's not.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4418429753/" title="spo3 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4049/4418429753_8588c7b8d4.jpg" alt="spo3" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Anyway, mostly I stopped by to let you all know that as part of my Master Plan for 3WAAW I will be migrating the content off of Blogger and onto its own server. There will be some changes to the site, which I'm making based on some excellent advice from Judy at <a href="http://www.jtdataworks.com/">JTdataworks</a>. The idea is that 3WAAW will earn its keep down the road!! There may be some interruption to the blog, though I do hope there won't be ... but despite the changes you will eventually see, it will still be 3WWAW - ie, irreverent and peppered with swear words :)<br /><br />See you soon!<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-60097826527274719402010-03-07T10:04:00.000-08:002010-03-07T11:12:24.431-08:00Do you believe in magic?<div style="text-align: center;">So your Food Lady has a part time job ... working for a magician. Yup, you've read that correctly ... I spend a couple of days a week at the beck and call of a magic man. It's rather fascinating stuff. Last week I spent several hours making things out of FIMO ... I can't tell you what I made, or I'd have to kill you. Also, I'm still not really sure what it was I was making, cuz it's awful secretive, this magic business.<br /><br />There are some downsides to this job:<br /><br />1) It's kind of like working for a congenial and slightly less creepy <a href="http://davidblaine.com/">David Blaine</a>.<br />2) I'm a captive audience for all these magic tricks that make me SHIT MY MIND.<br /><br /><br />But there are also some real perks to this job:<br /><br />1) He feeds me lunch, that sometimes includes cake!<br />2) He pays me in real dollars, not magicbucks.<br />3) I get to see one of my favourite things every time I walk into his house.<br /><br />Remember this fine old gentleman?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4414508248/" title="sp1 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4046/4414508248_4901e553f7.jpg" alt="sp1" height="500" width="325" /></a><br /><br />Oh yeah - it's the world's most demented canine tyrant, His Majesty Sporticus. Now EIGHTEEN AND A FREAKIN' HALF YEARS OLD, Sport refuses to die ... probably just to be obstinate. Or, the most likely explanation, is that it's some kind of magic at work. How else can you explain how Sport, going on 19 years old, still shuffles around this earth making people do his bidding? It's gotta be magic.<br /><br />This week, Sport is staying with me and my crew while my boss and his wife have disappeared into the magic box and reappeared in the middle of NYC. Sport rattled and squeaked his way into my living room, collapsed himself into a heap of dusty old bones on a big fluffy pillow and has been making me do his bidding ever since.<br /><br />Sporty is much as I remember him - serious, sweet and bossy as fuck.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You! Peon! Bring me some food I will eat. Except I WON'T eat ANYTHING that I have eaten before, so be creative. But not too creative, for I won't like that one bit. In fact, maybe I'm not even hungry at all. You'll never know, will you? Why are you just standing there?! GET TO WORK!!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4413742711/" title="sp2 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2718/4413742711_911a312e62.jpg" alt="sp2" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />This is one OLD dog, my friends. He is on a million medications to keep his heart beating, his joints passably mobile and the grim reaper at bay. Every time I pick him up (which is shockingly often, and usually because he has gotten stuck somewhere) he wheezes and coughs and I'm sure the end is nigh.<br /><br />He has a very special eating regime that I, apparently, SUCK at, because he completely refused to eat his dinner last night (a dinner, I might add, that involves several steps, about 40 minutes of cooking and a very specific presentation) until I peppered it liberally with slices of ham. And for a dog who gets stuck in corners, he's remarkably adroit at removing strategically placed ham-bits from the rest of his food.<br /><br />This morning he woke me up at 6AM by peeing on my carpet.<br /><br />I love having Sport here because ... well, because I love Sport! But I also hate having Sport here because I am nursing this 24-7 dread that he's going to die on my watch. His owners have assured me many times that if he dies while they are gone they won't blame me, because he's EIGHTEEN AND A FREAKIN' HALF YEARS OLD and he's bound to pop off eventually. But I'd much rather he waited until they come back from NYC and if he must kick it, he does it in their house and not mine. (Of course, if he doesn't stop with the refusal to eat anything I make him, I may kill him myself. Perhaps I'll kick him until ... oh never mind.)<br /><br />A day with Sport goes kind of like this - he wakes me up at an ungodly early hour by pissing in my floor, so I leap out of a dead sleep, hustle him at a snail's pace to the front door and shove him outside. Then I crawl around cleaning up the trail of pee, crying because 40 seconds ago I was asleep and now I'm the opposite, and I'm confused. He wanders around outside sniffing stuff and trying not to get lost at the pace of .0927 miles per decade, then waits for me to reappear because he can't get back up on the deck. I lift him up, he coughs and wheezes - I squint my eyes shut and repeat the phrase "don'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdie" until he stops coughing.<br /><br />Then we sort of propel ourselves through the house until we're back in the big room, where Sport whines until someone gets off his big fluffy pillow, where he promptly collapses. I make a meal he won't eat, replace it with something else he won't eat, lie down on the floor in front of him with a spoon and beg him to eat, kick his bowl across the room and hurl invectives at him for not eating, then I give him several slices of ham and some liver cookies, which he will eat. At least, which he will eat today. Who knows about tomorrow?<br /><br />I finally sit down with my coffee and Sport decides he needs to pee again so we repeat the shuffle, lift, cough/wheeze, don'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdie, whine, collapse routine. And then it's time for one of his many medications, delivered sneakily in a liver cookie (I can do magic too, you know!).<br /><br />Repeat several times daily, go through the whole eating thing at dinner time again, eventually go outside with him for the last pee lest he inadvertently wander into the mouth of a coyote, move his fluffy pillow into the bedroom, go back to the big room to convince him that the pillow CAN, in fact, move rooms and he doesn't have to stand where it used to be and stare at nothing, eventually lift him up and carry him to the pillow, cough/wheeze, don'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdie, sleep.<br /><br />Sport is a lot of work!!<br /><br />But having him here, and working with SAINTS, has really gotten me thinking about when and how our old dogs should die, and how much and for how long should we be keeping them alive? Sport can scarcely move these days, and spends much of his time either asleep or staring blankly at nothing, like a wall. Who knows what's going on in his little pea brain? Is he thinking "you bastards, let me go?" or is he going " ow ow ow ow ow" in his head or is he grateful that he's still here to rule the house from his pillow?<br /><br />Don't get me wrong - I am in NO WAY second guessing his owners' decisions about his well being. I won't pretend that having him for a week is like having him for my very own, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that they are doing everything for him they can and with his best interests in mind. I'm definitely not suggesting that Sport should not still be with us (and besides, it's not like he's actually alive anyway; he's in a state of suspended semi-animation thanks to MAGIC).<br /><br />It's just that I've never had a really old dog myself, and having this decrepit old house guest just, I guess, makes me think about this stuff. I try to imagine, say, Piper at EIGHTEEN AND A FREAKIN' HALF YEARS OLD - she is such an animated, lively, busybody of a dog. What would she be thinking if she were really old, and couldn't do any of the things she loved to do, and couldn't really move or walk or make Mad Teeth(tm) at her friends? Would she hate every blessed minute of it or would she just be happy that she was still hanging around being a puny little witch?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Kill me, and I will haunt you. And so will my sidekick. Bitch.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4414520994/" title="d3 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4024/4414520994_b209592df1.jpg" alt="d3" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><br />And when do they tell us that it's time for them to go? Do they know? Briggs never told me - my vet told me. But did Briggs want to die? I'll never know; all I knew was that he was going to die in a matter of days, possibly hours, and I didn't want him to hurt anymore, and there was nothing else we could do for him. His imminent death was inevitable, and as much as it pained me, I don't think I let him go too soon at all. But a dog like Sport - who is dying by degrees just because he's old ... when is it too soon? Or too late? How do you KNOW?<br /><br />Part of me hopes Tweed lives to be as old as Sport, and part of me hopes he doesn't at all. Mostly because as long as there is breath in his body, he will bark at me, and I cringe at the thought of 9 more years of his incessant barking. Wootie will undoubtedly live to be about 43 years old, just to torment me.<br /><br />Having Sport here this week is like a living (<-- interpret that liberally) philosophy lesson for me. Also, it gives me a glimpse of Hell ... a Hell where I will be forced to beg dogs I love to eat all day long. He really is an obstinate old goat. He maybe can't move much or even really function, but he can sure still lie down in the worst direction possible for getting a decent photograph. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4414511936/" title="sp3 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4002/4414511936_d06df78e6b.jpg" alt="sp3" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />At SAINTS they make life and death decisions all the time. It must be heartbreaking for them. And sometimes, I imagine, the dogs make the decision themselves about when it's their time to go, which must also be heartbreaking for them. It's so easy to get attached to these little lives, isn't it?<br /><br />Yesterday I took my dogs for a walk (but not Sport, that'd kill him for sure) and Tweed stepped on a whole branch of thorns - he was wearing a thorn shoe! And he limped right over to me, poked me in the knee with his nose and when I looked down, he held his paw right out to me to remove them for him. Can you imagine? We've finally reached that place. He's my old dog, and he loves me!!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Are you still on about that? doG you're boring.</span><br /><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4413755845/" title="d4 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4038/4413755845_af37c30534.jpg" alt="d4" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-23621713181955180112010-03-05T20:22:00.000-08:002010-03-05T20:52:56.470-08:00Life's A Beach<div style="text-align: center;">At least, it was today.<br /><br />Your Food Lady has been a busy girl! She's working on all kinds of things these days, including a special thank you to the lovely folks who donated to keep me (and by extension, Wootube) up and running. Watch your mailboxes!!<br /><br />SAINTS photo shoot number 2 took place this week, and I think it gave me carpal tunnel syndrome. That'sa lotta dogsa! There's a sneak preview for you here later in this episode ;-)<br /><br />So today was the first day I've had some free time, and I took advantage of it to spirit some very pouty dogs off to the beach for a couple of hours. They said after a week of being largely ignored, it was a nice gesture, but not good enough.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm leavin' on that midnight train to Georgia...</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">as soon as it shows up.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409590805/" title="r0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4022/4409590805_c6370464bc.jpg" alt="r0001" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />In an historic first, Tweed agrees with Woo, and is also thinking of hopping a boxcar and abandoning me.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409595561/" title="r0009 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4047/4409595561_06d5c84aa5.jpg" alt="r0009" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Dexter, however, is just hoping to throw himself under the first train that comes along (he's a teenager; they are notoriously full of angst)<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410359654/" title="r0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4057/4410359654_568b04b143.jpg" alt="r0007" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Boys are dumb.</span><br />(Piper has the retention span of a goldfish, and has already forgotten she was annoyed with me)<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409597287/" title="r00012 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4036/4409597287_24f80b66b0.jpg" alt="r00012" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Piper called me a name *pout*</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410362206/" title="r00010 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4043/4410362206_64d73fa3fc.jpg" alt="r00010" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />But the allure of the ocean jollied them out of their pissy moods.<br /><br />And there was rejoicing.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Hurrah!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410368012/" title="r00024 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4009/4410368012_44c70009ff.jpg" alt="r00024" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />And there was DumbBall<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410367184/" title="r00020 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4052/4410367184_2880173799.jpg" alt="r00020" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />And there was irritating-Tweed-by-following-him-around-which-we-know-he-hates-but-we-do-it-anyway-just-to-be-pesty.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409599555/" title="r00016 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2683/4409599555_ce0719fb38.jpg" alt="r00016" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />And then I had to stop with the photos, because my wrist was swearing at me. Now there are dog-shaped piles of sand making the floor look arty, and 4 soggy and tired dogs heaped around under furniture.<br /><br />This leaves me some time to edit more SAINTS photos.<br /><br />This time around we tried to simulate a studio effect. For Every. Single. Dog. It took a long time.<br /><br />I say simulate because, of course, we have no studio. All we had were some white sheets, a reflector and many packages of tempting Snausages.<br /><br />But I think the results were quite good, all things considered.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I can't see them, but I can sure frickin' smell them. Where are the damn Snausages?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410372206/" title="ss2076 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2743/4410372206_1a03b8f6b9.jpg" alt="ss2076" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I have some difficulty standing. If you were less cruel, and appreciated my Dexter-like ears, you'd give me a Snausage.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410371526/" title="ss2053 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4033/4410371526_631cfd2b9a.jpg" alt="ss2053" height="360" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I don't need your stinkin' Snausages. But don't touch my monkey.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409604513/" title="ss2023 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4001/4409604513_3ea4a4ab1e.jpg" alt="ss2023" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">SnAUsaGEs! SNaUsagES! SNaUSagEs!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4410369626/" title="ss209b by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4006/4410369626_84f6acf905.jpg" alt="ss209b" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />All in all, I think they turned out quite well! At least for most of the dogs. A few were not so cooperative, and in a couple of other cases, I just failed to get a really nice shot.<br /><br />Carol told me this evening that Rose passed away this afternoon. I am now sad that I didn't get a really love photo of her during the session - a hard lesson to learn when photographing SAINTS dogs ... you may not get a second chance.<br /><br />RIP Rose.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409632021/" title="ss2061 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2679/4409632021_b9b632201b.jpg" alt="ss2061" height="347" width="500" /></a><br /><br />It's hard to stay sad, though, when Dexter The Canine Spider goes dancing past you like this:<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4409598449/" title="r00015 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4001/4409598449_9299702045.jpg" alt="r00015" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I *definitely* got the weird puppy.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-63456361588694249942010-02-27T18:51:00.000-08:002010-02-27T19:03:43.042-08:00Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow<div style="text-align: center;">Today I was at <a href="http://www.saintsrescue.ca/">S.A.I.N.T.S</a> for one of many upcoming shoots of their wonderful and whimsical collection of special needs animals. Carol, the founder, and I are talking about collaborating on a photodocumentbookthing about this huge and amazing rescue she runs.<br /><br />While I was there, I overheard the most *interesting* conversation. Apparently, someone came up with the most brilliant idea for a fundraiser - a fundraiser wherein they either raise $2000.00 .... or Carol shaves her head.<br /><br />S.A.I.N.T.S. is an incredible sanctuary for senior and palliative and "unadoptable" animals. Over 130 of them call this little farm Home.<br /><br />The old.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4393940992/" title="ss105 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2784/4393940992_7aa24f4d24.jpg" alt="ss105" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />The Blind.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4393939830/" title="ss102 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4062/4393939830_45a81e7b9f.jpg" alt="ss102" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />The maimed.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4393944718/" title="ss1028 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4009/4393944718_14d4b6e6fe.jpg" alt="ss1028" height="396" width="500" /></a><br /><br />And the ... uh ...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4393177047/" title="ss1017 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2685/4393177047_7e0cc8c33c.jpg" alt="ss1017" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Oh, it's Percy. Best. Cow. EVER.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4393942302/" title="ss1012 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4055/4393942302_ddbb48f8d6.jpg" alt="ss1012" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><br />All of them have found safety, love and physical and emotional nourishment in Carol's home.<br /><br />That's why I don't think it's very nice to make Carol shave her head! She's already lost her sanity, she shouldn't have to lose her hair too ;-)<br /><br />If you're interested in helping Carol keep her hair, <a href="mailto:carol@saintsrescue.ca">email S.A.I.N.T.S.</a> to find out how you can purchase a lock of her hair and give it a good home on her head!<br /><br />And please give Daphne a cookie. She's starving.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4393967032/" title="daphne1 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2683/4393967032_0e4609f230.jpg" alt="daphne1" height="353" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-50177715664359306632010-02-26T09:27:00.000-08:002010-02-26T10:20:26.151-08:00Mommy will kick you until you're dead.<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Say whuuut?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4390300630/" title="n0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4071/4390300630_678304e92a.jpg" alt="n0001" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Ha ha! I was having a conversation recently with an animal trainer friend of mine (whom I won't "out" here in case she doesn't want anyone to know about her personal vulgarities) and when I made a joke about Wootie's recall being something along the lines of "Fine! I hope you drown in that river, you willfully-deaf, disobedient, pile of orange garbage!" she told me that her newest response to *her* 'selective listening' dog was to promise to kick him until he was dead.<br /><br />I *may* have laughed until I cried.<br /><br />Abby doesn't find it all that funny.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4390321174/" title="l0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2762/4390321174_9870980230.jpg" alt="l0007" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />This got me thinking about all the Frustration Phrases that have either come out of my mouth, or the mouths of my friends, with respect to their dogs over the years.<br /><br />Why just last weekend, after the agility trial, I posted on Facebook something to the effect of how proud I was of Tweed, and that I'd left Piper in the dumpster behind the gas station on my way home. Which was indeed something I had threatened her with when we left the trial site.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">She's just kidding. Right?</span> *goes off to find Piper*<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4389543097/" title="n0008 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2708/4389543097_25c07ff2c2.jpg" alt="n0008" height="500" width="322" /></a><br /><br />In agility class, Tweed expresses his enthusiasm by talking about how happy he is. Loudly, rhythmically and eternally. It's this great, booming, metronomic ARF ARF ARF ARF - you could play an entire symphony on the piano to this noise. He does it while other dogs are running, and it increases in frequency when he thinks it's his turn: WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF. It. Drives me. INSANE.<br /><br />Our class often runs late, and generally our last exercise is a timed run-off where we all try to run clean and beat everyone else. The next class is frequently coming in to set up while we are finishing up the Competition Run - and since I have two dogs who run 16" Specials, Piper is often near the beginning, and Tweed somewhere near the end, so they catch Tweed's run mostly. I don't know all the people in the next class, just a few of them.<br /><br />Recently one friend in the late class told me that I scared the bejesus out of some of his classmates by hollering at Tweed "I will reach down your throat and remove your bark box <span style="font-style: italic;">with my fingers</span> if you don't shut up!!"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You'd have to catch me like a tennis ball first!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4390313268/" title="n0009 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4058/4390313268_77b1fd3b5e.jpg" alt="n0009" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />(don't tell anyone we were playing Dumball, okay? Shhh.)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Food Lady let us play Dumball! Food Lady let us play Dumball!!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4389539095/" title="n0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4042/4389539095_5108aecab9.jpg" alt="n0006" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Dexter, I will shake you until your testicles drop.<br /><br />(Hmm. Not a bad idea, actually.)<br /><br />My friend Finn, whom I've blogged about before, is like the tattooed patron saint of needy animals. She's worked in animal welfare her whole life. She travels the world lending a hand to animals in crisis; she was in New Orleans post-Hurricane Katrina, she is regularly at <a href="http://www.buildingnewhope.org/casa-lupita.html">New Hope's Casa Lupita</a> in Nicaragua. Now she is <a href="http://rabidgoats.wordpress.com/">heading off to Haiti</a> in the aftermath of the horrible earthquakes that have devastated the Haitians. In other words, there is nobody more invested in the well being of the world's critters than Saint Finn.<br /><br />And yet, Finn has been heard to tell her dogs that she will beat them repeatedly with a 2X4 before sending them back to the Pound. Loudly.<br /><br />I think people need to have more of a sense of humour when it comes to their dogs sometimes. We get so caught up in being politically correct about how we train, how patient and tolerant we can be ... we forget sometimes that dogs can be really freakin' frustrating, and that it's okay to get irritated, and that without a healthy sense of humour about it, we might go insane. As long as you channel your frustration into funny ... that way, you're a lot less likely to *actually* take it out on your dog.<br /><br />Last night Dexter ate my headphones for Skype. Whilst sitting on my toes, I might add, innocent as a Spring blossom, the little turd monkey. I *may* have told him he was getting the leftovers for breakfast, and that there would be no more real food coming his way, ever.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I don't know about you, Mr. Husky, but I think TFL just likes to hear the sound of her own voice. I don't like it much, and that's why I ignore her. What say we take her out?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4390308598/" title="n0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4057/4390308598_0246d35618.jpg" alt="n0007" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Plus I think they learn something from it.<br /><br />Last night in agility class, Piper nailed her weave entries every.single.run. That's never happened in the history of Piper. (Piper: <span style="font-style: italic;">"The dog full of GO, but empty of KNOW"</span> ~ courtesy of Christine. hee hee!!) I like to believe the dumpster threat is responsible for this magical turn of events.<br /><br />So what's your dirty little secret? What threats do you utter at your recalcitrant canines? Don't be ashamed - I won't judge you! After all, my K9 Mantra is:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">More Beatings. Less Love.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh shut up already. And here's your stupid frisbee.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4390302744/" title="n0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2797/4390302744_c117ea9954.jpg" alt="n0004" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com92tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-82659924793112109042010-02-25T08:47:00.000-08:002010-02-25T11:00:44.264-08:00Wow<div style="text-align: center;">So, umm, lots of you folks made me cry - and I'm not a crier either. Usually you'd have to pinch me really hard or something to get me to shed a tear, and then only if you ran away really fast afterward because if you pinch me, and I can catch you, I'll channel those tears into return pinches;-)<br /><br />I cannot believe how much you all love this blog, and how kind you've all been. Really, I am overwhelmed.<br /><br />So here's my situation, since you all deserve to know why I'm cryptically trying to sell my camera stuff.<br /><br />You probably all know that last year I lost my job at a NPO I worked for when this stupid moron ugly co-worker, her even stupider and uglier husband and a pack of their intellectually challenged friends decided to stage a hostile takeover of the BoD through false means (me = still bitter). The new, fake, BoD terminated our positions, shut down the NPO and then a battle in court between them and the old, genuine BoD ensued that has tied them up in court since forever.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Piper hates the stupid ugly people.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/404272786/" title="meanestpiper by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/134/404272786_1cab30ce0f.jpg" alt="meanestpiper" height="391" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Like any jobless person, I applied for Unemployment Benefits, full expecting to find another job right away - I always have. It's rare I don't get a job I apply for, historically speaking. But their timing could not have been worse because, umm, there are no jobs. The economy sucks goats. I have been unable to find gainful employment since. Hell, I can't even find crappy employment.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Sad Wootie is ... sad.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/431965180/" title="wooeyes by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/431965180_00b3d19e47.jpg" alt="wooeyes" height="335" width="500" /></a><br /><br />This month, my Unemployment Benefits ran out. So I have no job, no money, and no safety net, because I was not exactly earning a fortune at my last job (the curse of doing Good Works for a living). I am dead serious about not being able to pay the rent - it's no euphemism, or exaggeration. I have sold everything I have to sell, including my beloved bicycles, just to get by these last few months. My friends have been just stellar, paying for my agility classes and trial entry fees, donating dog food to my hungry canines ... but I cannot continue to let people fund my life!<br /><br />That's in part why I am so reluctant to put a tip jar on the blog. People have been so very generous already, I feel downright naughty accepting more help. I'll beg shamelessly for rescue, but it's awfully hard for me to ask for help for me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But not for Tweed.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/402872954/" title="tweedbeg by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/169/402872954_8a8e43d9b1.jpg" alt="tweedbeg" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />I also don't want to make any of YOU pay for *my* blog! I do this because I love it - it's so much fun to chronicle the many (mis)adventures of my dogs and the fact that you all get to enjoy it with me is just a bonus for me. Your comments often make me laugh harder than you probably do at the blog itself. You give me back as much I give you. That's what makes this whole blog thing work, imo.<br /><br />Lastly, I don't want anyone to think I'm plugging for money. There are so many disingenuous people in this world with a sob story - I wasn't trying to elicit sympathy from anyone by trying to sell my camera gear. I just want to pay the bills, and the camera et al is all I have left, really.<br /><br />But I won't sell it, not right now - not because I never intended to in the first place, but rather because several people have offered to buy the whole shebang and rent it back to me again until I've paid it off again. I think losing my cameras would be like losing an arm, so I can't pass an offer like that up if I can avoid it (because without my arm, how would I beat Wootie for being so BAD?). So if you've emailed me about what I've got to sell and not received an answer, that's why - not because it was a sympathy scam.<br /><br />I would love for this blog to make money, I really would. But because I started this blog for my own selfish enjoyment, I would - and still don't - have any idea how to go about making that happen. I am completely open to suggestions. I am no entrepreneur. I'm just a girl with a camera and too many dogs for any sane person. But I definitely don't want it to make money at the expense of any of YOU. I won't charge for subscriptions ... my dogs are whackos for free, you should get to appreciate their whacko-ness for free too!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But pay ME, and I might give you another ear.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368291220/" title="I0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2737/4368291220_4253b05a4c.jpg" alt="I0005" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />The many many emails, atop the many many comments here, that I have received are trying to assure me that my 'art' such as it were, is worth paying for. I really struggle with this, friends, but my protests get drowned out by your arguments. And I'm tired of Pia calling me an asshole! ;-)<br /><br />So I acquiesce, and I'll put the tip jar here on the site. I'd never even heard of such a thing until you all collectively bellowed it at me.<br /><br /><form action="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr" method="post"><br /><input name="cmd" value="_s-xclick" type="hidden"><br /><input name="hosted_button_id" value="8ALJGMGP85BQU" type="hidden"><br /><input src="https://www.paypal.com/en_US/i/btn/btn_donateCC_LG.gif" name="submit" alt="PayPal - The safer, easier way to pay online!" border="0" type="image"><br /><img alt="" src="https://www.paypal.com/en_US/i/scr/pixel.gif" border="0" height="1" width="1" /><br /></form><br />If you want to donate, I love you and I'm deeply humbled. If you don't, I love you for reading the blog. And you have NO idea how much Tweed loves an audience.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">ETA - I don't know what I am doing wrong with the donate button? I just followed the paypal instructions. As you may have figured out, I'm quite techno-stupid. What's the secret here?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Okay wait - more Edit ... I think this will work. The only paypal account I have is the one associated with the rescue, so if this works, maybe just add a note that it's not a rescue donation so the funds don't get mixed up?</span> ARGH! It's already complicated ;-)<br /><br />If this helps - just use the address sheenas@shaw.ca It's all connected to the same account, I think, but that address differentiates it from the rescue one...right?<br /><br />In return I promise to buckle down and try to find a way to make what I love to do pay for my simple little life. A friend and fan is hooking me up with someone who apparently knows how to make websites make money. Another friend has suggested I check out a government run self employment program for sad sacks like me with an idea but <span style="font-style: italic;">no</span> idea how to execute it. I will also look into selling prints or other items made with my camera - if anyone is familiar with setting up webstores or similar, and wants to help me get that off the ground, I'm all ears (kind of like Dexter). And of course, if any of you fine folks in the Lower Mainland can hook me up with an actual job job, I'm all about the networking and will take any help I can get.<br /><br />I don't know what else to say, except that I promise to try and repay you all for your kindness by being funny and taking funny photos. A little birdie tells me I'm not too bad at it, after all.<br /><br />No, not that birdie.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4359679723/" title="h0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2773/4359679723_cd3bd9583f.jpg" alt="h0001" height="500" width="287" /></a><br /><br />But wouldn't it be totally creepy if, like, it did?<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com78tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-61548154197067484482010-02-24T10:03:00.000-08:002010-02-24T10:06:59.156-08:00Camera gear for sale<div style="text-align: center;">Dear Readers,<br /><br />I find myself in financial straits and desperate times call for desperate measures.<br /><br />Wootube and 365puppy have been great fun for me, and hopefully for you. But all good things must come to an end.<br /><br />Maybe one of you wants to take up the gauntlet of providing fun posts and decent photos to the world. If so, I have a camera package for you!<br /><br />Please <a href="mailto:sheenas@shaw.ca">email me</a> for a complete list of the items I have available. I prefer to sell it as a package. The Food Lady needs to pay the rent :(<br /><br />I will miss you all.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com88tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-17574011053377142202010-02-22T12:49:00.000-08:002010-02-22T13:21:06.282-08:00Super Woo!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4379457309/" title="m0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4006/4379457309_ec19d1d0fc.jpg" alt="m0003" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Actually, Wootie has nothing to do with this post, I just liked the photograph and couldn't be bothered to think up a decent segue.<br /><br />The real Super Dog in today's installment is my Bestest Boy, Tweed.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Who, me?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4379460587/" title="m0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4028/4379460587_9249784aa4.jpg" alt="m0004" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Yes, Mr. T - I am talking about you!!<br /><br />We trialed on Saturday and Tweed made me so very proud! His accomplishments this weekend were:<br /><br />Steeplechase - <span style="font-weight: bold;">1st place</span> and a Q<br />Masters Jumpers - <span style="font-weight: bold;">1st place</span> and a Q<br />Masters Standard - <span style="font-weight: bold;">1st place</span> and a Q<br />Masters Gamblers - <span style="font-weight: bold;">2nd place</span> and a Q<br />Challenge class - <span style="font-weight: bold;">1st place</span> and a Q<br /><br />He went 5 for 6, as I got slightly out of position in his last Standard run and he dropped a bar. He was still several seconds faster than his competitors, but the 5 faults meant no Q.<br /><br />Nobody could touch him in Challenge; the Q time is determined by the fastest dog, and he blew everybody away. It was the nicest run I think he and I have ever had. It *even* got us a compliment from the Sadist - not even a backhanded one, an actual, genuine compliment!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Udda udda udda - whuuut?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4379462513/" title="m0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4027/4379462513_da9476ec9a.jpg" alt="m0005" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I know Tweed, I was surprised as well. It's such a rare thing.<br /><br />I've been told it's not nice to brag, but I don't care! Tweed and I worked real hard to reach this level of teamwork, so I'm braggin' for both of us. Tweed's a winner!! I only wish I had gotten someone to video some of those runs.<br /><br />I *heart* Tweed!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4380206906/" title="m0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4023/4380206906_6b40bafc9b.jpg" alt="m0001" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Piper ran 4 times in Advanced too, and she didn't let me down - she messed up every single run and didn't have a hope in hell of getting a qualifying run. More or less what I was expecting - she's a pretty thing, but running on fumes, not cerebral power.<br /><br />Piper fetch me a stick with which to beat you.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">OKAY!!! YAY!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4379474635/" title="m00011 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4017/4379474635_28c099a172.jpg" alt="m00011" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />You owe me $56.00 in wasted entry fees.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ummm ... can I pay you in sticks? Here's my first installment.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4379467193/" title="m0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4072/4379467193_4f3ec36db2.jpg" alt="m0007" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Piper is officially pulled from trialing until we get some of our shit together. The Sadist says Piper really wants to please me and I get too frustrated with her, which shuts her down. It's hard to imagine her being shut down whilst she is at the same bouncing up and down on my toes like a cork in a stormy ocean. If that's shut down, what would she do if she were really happy - jump right inside my skin??? And also, if she wants to make me so damn happy, then why doesn't she get the hell off my cleats and go take a freakin' obstacle?<br /><br />Really, Piper's two biggest challenges are:<br /><br />1. Distance - Piper is attached to my cleats by an invisible elastic that only stretches a tiny bit. I thought with time the elasticity would develop some give, like a well used hair tie, but it's pretty damn resilient!<br /><br />2. Weave pole entries. Piper's brain is like a nervous frog in a hot frying pan, and even though there are weave poles set up on the kitchen, she can't find the entry to save her life. We're going to go back and retrain the weaves using the 2X2 method - has anyone successfully retrained weaves this way? I keep hearing they are a great way to teach them, but stressful for the dog to relearn. I'm hoping that since she doesn't seem to understand them now, retraining won't be too confusing for her.<br /><br />Oh well, I'm still strutting around all happy-like thanks to Tweed's glorious Saturday. Nationals, here we come!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-21143144623947873712010-02-18T14:43:00.000-08:002010-02-18T15:15:44.097-08:00My Kingdom For A Decent Dog Park<div style="text-align: center;">Even though we have 10 acres, it gets boring wandering about all by ourselves sometimes - it's pretty isolated out here. We often hit the park up the road, where we've made lots of new friends, but I make a point of trying out the various nearby parks we find on the internetz. Yesterday, we went to the worst one yet ... we only lasted 30 minutes at that one.<br /><br />Then Ace's dad tells us that there is an off leash beach in White Rock. A beach?! Ohboy! Being former West Enders, we really miss the ocean a lot. White Rock sounded like it'd be far away, but I timed it - only took us 15 minutes or so to drive there.<br /><br />Woot!<br /><br />And by "Woot" I mean Wootie was happy to be back in a large body of water.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ahhh, this is the life.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4369080644/" title="k0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2684/4369080644_1a8fbc7326.jpg" alt="k0007" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />He was so happy, he couldn't even keep his feet on the ground.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4369095528/" title="k00017 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4051/4369095528_40e4a25e86.jpg" alt="k00017" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />He didn't even care if he caught The Wootie Toy or not. Which is good cuz, umm, he didn't.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368340145/" title="k00012 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2695/4368340145_a3a6d95c34.jpg" alt="k00012" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Tweed + beach = bliss.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4369085414/" title="k00010 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4054/4369085414_bde6e91b97.jpg" alt="k00010" height="360" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Piper + ocean = who-cares-as-long-as-TFL-throws-the-ball.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368329811/" title="k0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2740/4368329811_427dd280e0.jpg" alt="k0006" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Even Dexter seemed to like the ocean, and water is NOT his favourite surface.<br /><br />He was a little hesitant at first ....<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368342017/" title="k00013 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4062/4368342017_8f2e0f5fab.jpg" alt="k00013" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />... but soon he'd made himself at home with the ocean.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4369075872/" title="k0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4069/4369075872_2c8a1b85ca.jpg" alt="k0002" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Speaking of Dexter, I've been observing him a little more closely lately to see if we can't get to the root of his assholiness.<br /><br />Someone had suggested that perhaps his issue was being on leash, so I took him to the park several times on a leash to see what he did. Which was nothing different. Friendly to everyone he met on leash or off.<br /><br />But he did do something in my living room the other day that gives me a little bit of a clue - he snapped at Wootie who got between him and his "job" (we were working on fetching to hand from a short distance). He was waiting for me to toss the ball and Wootie wandered by and got a snap in the face for it. A little later on, Piper (gasp!) got one was well.<br /><br />At the park, he largely ignores other dogs, though will greet them politely for the most part, but he's not too interested in them. He will infrequently snark at a dog who is too in his face, but I expect this from all my dogs, who like calm greetings and detest rambunctious ones. However, if he thinks something fun and exciting is about to happen involving people, he gets very bitchy with other dogs. This is different from being *involved* in something fun and exciting though - like today at the beach, I was throwing the frisbee for everyone and a certain Schnauzer decided to obsess on Dexter, who was - as usual - creeping around in "work" mode trying to keep an eye on the frisbee and all three other dogs at once. Several times the Schnauzer jumped on him, got in his face and barked right in his eyeballs without so much as a blink of a response from Dexter, because Dex was concentrating very hard. And when he finally did snark at the irritating Schnauzer, it was ever so brief.<br /><br />So it seems to me that "Relaxed" Dexter is friendly, and "Working" Dexter is largely oblivious, but "Anticipating" Dexter is a right rip roarin' bitch. I do wonder if at agility class he is so keyed up that his nerves are on edge - he sure acts calm, but I know he's dying to get to 'work' (I keep putting "work" in quotes because it's his definition of a 'job' not necessarily mine) and he wants nothing to do with anyone who may interfere with that.<br /><br />I suppose this makes him a workaholic.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368328247/" title="k0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2728/4368328247_2bd3f9d328.jpg" alt="k0005" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />I'm going to take him out to play with some of those same puppies from class at the trial this weekend to see if he treats them differently in class than out of it. That might give me some insight.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Why's Dexter such a turd monkey?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4369096786/" title="j0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2626/4369096786_3b591bfc9d.jpg" alt="j0001" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Who cares? He's boring anyway.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4369099632/" title="j0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4063/4369099632_5337e34437.jpg" alt="j0006" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Is that a rabbit?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368349529/" title="j0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4014/4368349529_8b4f2bf812.jpg" alt="j0002" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I think we'll be spending a lot of our free time at East Beach this summer. We are all just so happy to have found a nearby ocean again.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Yippee!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4368335545/" title="k0009 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2771/4368335545_b828e81338.jpg" alt="k0009" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-42056532154522578052010-02-15T12:52:00.001-08:002010-02-15T13:20:24.709-08:00Single White Female<div style="text-align: center;">Srsly. Dexter is not just trying to be like Piper, he is trying to BECOME Piper.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4359779049/" title="I0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4002/4359779049_76a8dc1941.jpg" alt="I0002" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />It's real good for Piper to have a buddy she can play with. Tweed's too scared of her to play with any regularity, and Wootie likes to torment her, but has no attention span to keep up a good game for any length of time. Also, I'm not even really sure he speaks border collie very well.<br /><br />Of course, he still likes to indulge in old habits from time to time.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4360388880/" title="I0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2728/4360388880_1b87924b0d.jpg" alt="I0007" height="353" width="500" /></a><br /><br />But Dexter speaks Piper's language, man. They have invented this ridiculous game where they run parallel to one another about 20 feet apart, usually with one of them up on the dyke, and the other in the field below. They'll both drop into a crouch and eyeball each other, then one takes off and so does the other one and then they're racing like Nascar.<br /><br />And, just like in Nascar, sometimes they collide.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4359704971/" title="h00016 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2693/4359704971_bcaa9d30df.jpg" alt="h00016" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I have lectured Dexter on the importance of becoming his own person and not trying to borrow the attributes of another to form his personality, but he's not listening.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Shut up. I'm not listening.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4360451678/" title="h00019 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2691/4360451678_77e2236e47.jpg" alt="h00019" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Sometimes he tries Mr. Woo on for size...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4360441238/" title="h00014 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2793/4360441238_5a32010efa.jpg" alt="h00014" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />...but mostly he prefers to adopt Piper's personality.<br /><br />It's getting so that I can't tell them apart. Aside from Piper's hillbilly teeth, that is.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4359640677/" title="I0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4011/4359640677_06c2135ff5.jpg" alt="I0003" height="396" width="500" /></a><br /><br />But one thing Dexter is, that Piper is not, is a DICKHEAD. He's becoming a real shit again with other puppies in his age range. Yesterday at class he embarrassed me to no end by snapping at Nixie several times, biting Chili in the face and making ugly face and snapping noises at Joey. None of this is okay! And I'm not sure where it's coming from either - Dexter goes to a dogpark almost every single day of his life and has mingled with hundreds of other dogs and he does just peachy, greeting dogs politely. He's been socialized up the wazoo and has not had bad experiences with other dogs at all. He let Sean walk into his house and make himself at home without issue and he plays with Ginny all the time. But I'm not really sure what to do with his new asshole-to-other-dogs business he's decided to take up. What do you think?<br /><br />Sometimes I feel like Dexter moved in and replaced Wootie. When we go for our morning walk through the fields, Mr. Woo vanishes, but I still have The Three Muskateers.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4360403038/" title="I00011 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2735/4360403038_e486c60819.jpg" alt="I00011" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Apparently, we are just too boring for Wootie-Mac and the jet setting lifestyle he wishes to lead.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4360418490/" title="I00015 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4023/4360418490_3dc8536595.jpg" alt="I00015" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />He thinks if Piper and Dexter want to be one-dog-same-dog, that's fine with him.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4360422610/" title="h0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4004/4360422610_1589f41fff.jpg" alt="h0004" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />More time for hunting wabbits.<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-68191230486014559552010-02-12T17:33:00.000-08:002010-02-12T17:38:36.779-08:00Exercise Induced Collapse in Border Collies<div style="text-align: center;">If you have a border collie that has episodes like <a href="http://www.wootube.net/2009/06/water-is-so-important.html">Piper does</a> the University of Minnesota wants to hear from you. Check out their <a href="http://www.cvm.umn.edu/VBS/faculty/Mickelson/lab/eic/bordercollieEIC/home.html">website</a> for information on submitting samples. Your dog does NOT need a pedigree to be included in the study.<br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold;">"An exercise-induced collapse syndrome similar to the EIC syndrome in retrievers has been recognized in Border Collies and may be called Border Collie collapse (<st1:stockticker st="on">BCC</st1:stockticker>) or exercise induced hyperthermia. It is most common in dogs used for working stock but has also been seen in dogs training for agility or flyball competitions and in dogs repetitively retrieving a tennis ball. Affected dogs are normal at rest and seem healthy but become abnormal after five to fifteen minutes of strenuous activity, particularly in warm weather. Some dogs will develop a stiff, stilted gait with short strides and others will become wobbly and then collapse. Some dogs develop a balance problem or are mentally abnormal during an episode, and a few dogs have died during collapse. <o:p></o:p></p> <p style="font-weight: bold;">This syndrome has not yet been well characterized so we are uncertain whether this is a metabolic, muscular or nervous system disorder. Affected dogs are negative for the dynamin 1 mutation causing EIC in Labrador Retrievers. <o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-weight: bold;"> If your dog has had 2 or more episodes of collapse we would like your help as we try to describe the syndrome and search for the genetic cause. Please take the time to fill out the questionnaire and send us a </span><st1:stockticker style="font-weight: bold;" st="on">DNA</st1:stockticker><span style="font-weight: bold;"> sample and pedigree from your affected dog. If you have a video of your dog having an episode we would like to have the opportunity to view that as well."</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-20603076336813813592010-02-11T11:10:00.000-08:002010-02-11T12:05:03.548-08:00Ode to an aging dog<div style="text-align: center;">It's hard to believe that in just a few short months, Tweed will be 10 years old. To the unfamiliar eye, he looks like a young adult dog, and nobody ever guesses he's more than 5 years old. Even I forget he's not 5 years old.<br /><br />Watching him age has been both beautiful and painful. I did not get the chance to embrace Briggs' aging process ... he was an old soul from the time he was small, and his health problems aged him faster than he deserved, or I could believe. He was always an old dog, to me, and I lost him when he was not yet 11 years old. I always felt robbed of his twilight years, but also, somehow, robbed of his youth.<br /><br />And Tweed is not Briggs. Briggs lived his while life asking me, "What now, Boss?" but from the time he was small, Tweed only ever asked me "Why?" Why should he sit there, stand on that, leave that alone, stop barking, be nice to the cat? "What's in for me?" he always wanted to know. He still does.<br /><br />Tweed has always questioned everything - he's a born skeptic. And he's cautious, about everything. Never was Tweed one to run headfirst into a tree after a ball, like Piper; never has he skidded to a stop throwing up mud answering his recall, like Dexter. His steps are measured, his enthusiasm always tempered with reserve. Strangers, new places, foreign objects, new commands - he's been cautious about them all. He's not like Woo, who exists only to please himself. Quite the opposite, Tweed has always wanted to be good, but first he just wanted to know why. If I've failed him in any way, it's that it took me ages to recognize that he really is a very good dog. In many ways, he's smarter than Briggs ever was, and the smartest dog I know.<br /><br />I'm an impatient trainer; my temper is quick, my impulse control needs work. I struggle with it often. And Tweed's questions always drove me crazy - "Just do it!" I'd seethe, and Tweed would tilt his head at me and ask "But why?"<br /><br />It was not until after Briggs' death that Tweed began to shine for me. Although he was a difficult dog in so many ways, Briggs was so easy for me because he always wanted to do what I asked. Briggs was a foot soldier, a loyal subject, who could not even fathom asking "Why." It saved him from himself, and his demons, but at the time I didn't see it as a survival mechanism; I only recognized it as Super Dog, and more robust, more rounded dogs seemed petty irritations to me. But when I no longer had anything to compare Tweed to but a memory, I began to see what an amazing dog he really is.<br /><br />And this is what Tweed has taught me - forgiveness. He forgave me, instantly, for assuming he was a lesser dog than Briggs. He never lost faith in me, even when I had so little in him. It pains me that for so many years, I failed to see how many times the "Why?" I saw in Tweed was really TRY. He tries so hard, he's full of try. Once I learned how answer his questions, he has given me more back that I have ever deserved.<br /><br />Years ago, I was walking around a lake with my two red dogs, and Briggs stepped on a big, fat thorn that shoved itself way up into his pad. He yelped, held up his foot and limped over to me - held out his paw and trusted I would take care of it. I pulled the pointy barb out of his flesh and tossed it to the side of the path where Tweed, meandering by, immediately stepped on it. He screamed, tucked down his tail and took off on three legs - unlike Briggs, he didn't come to me to save him. And I used to think that illustrated the difference between my two dogs, and was such a clear indication of why Briggs was so superior to his little brother. I was too selfish to see that all it illustrated was how much less I valued him.<br /><br />Today, while we walked along the dykes we came to the place where we have to cross a sea of boulders - about 50 feet long, and 20 feet wide, there's no other way to get to the other side. As the pups and Piper danced across the uneven surface, Tweed picked his way carefully along behind me, stepping where I stepped, choosing the same flat surfaces where he saw my feet go. He trusted me to lead him safely across this small challenge, and it made me so glad to see how far we had come.<br /><br />And then he fell - he lost his footing and slipped. He went down rather heavily, and two of his legs disappeared into crevices, trapping him with his chest pressed against the jagged edge of a big boulder where he tried to balance. And it was then that I realized Tweed is getting old. I've seen Piper fall on these same boulders and recover herself before she's fully hit the rocks, but Tweed went down and he stayed down. He's not 5 years old anymore - he's almost 10 years old, and his body knows it, even if I don't.<br /><br />For a second or two he struggled and I thought "don't panic Tweed, don't - you'll break your legs if you do!" and then he turned his head and looked at me. He just met my eyes for a long second and I could see he was asking, again, "Why?" But not "Why is my body failing me? Why am I getting old?" Rather, he was just asking me, "Why are you just standing there, you flippin' idiot, can't you see I'm stuck?"<br /><br />"Sorry, sorry!" I said and picked my way across the rocks back the way I'd come. I bent down and carefully lifted him out of his little prison and set him back on a flat surface. He wagged his tail and stuck his nose in my pocket. "Cookie please, that was really traumatic."<br /><br />I laughed. Tweed loves it when he thinks he's been funny, and he barked back. Of course I gave him a cookie. I'm looking forward to giving him cookies for barking at me for many more years to come.<br /><br />He's such a good dog, my Tweed is.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4349624784/" title="b00010 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4030/4349624784_cb5ded2679.jpg" alt="b00010" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(I promise not to make these long winded, sort of maudlin posts very often)</span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-44425311282557986732010-02-09T12:08:00.000-08:002010-02-09T12:09:42.251-08:00I HAZ<div style="text-align: center;">ALL THE EAR SETS IN THE UNIVERSES!!!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4344402604/" title="g0009 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4011/4344402604_964c43126e.jpg" alt="g0009" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-41334118882526707102010-02-07T17:09:00.000-08:002010-02-07T17:38:47.188-08:00The answers you seek<span dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/02032555334605790413" rel="nofollow" onclick="">EvenSong</a></span> said...<p><i>Inquiring minds need to know: with all of Piper's energy focused on making mad teeth at a healthy Tweed (YEAH!), what happened when sweet little Dexter, of the half-mast ear, landed upon her?!?</i></p><p>Nothing! He did not land on her, as he's not allowed to do that. He tends to land beside her, and then get run over as she barrels through him :)</p><p>***************<br /></p><p> <span dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/01217064337192339431" rel="nofollow" onclick="">Blue</a></span> said...</p><p><i>Would you mind sharing the recipe for the fish brownies? My Aussie LOVES fish.</i></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://tonkaseafoods.com/images/Canned-from-above.jpg" /><br /></div><p></p><p>Sure! But first, the history: The Sadist, aka my agility teacher, is unnaturally competitive. It must be an Austrian thing. He is even competitive about his dog treats. So every class, he tries to lure my dogs away from me with his own home made dog treats and then gets all puffed up and happy when it works. Of course, he could probably lure them away with Elmer's Glue, because my dogs are gluttons and will eat just about anything. I don't have the heart to tell him this, plus he wouldn't be able to hear me over the sound of his own crowing.<br /></p><p>Anyhoo, I am trying to improve my treats, because I am going to lure his dog Biscuit away from him and replace her with Wootie. I make the ubiquitous "dog brownie" with whatever happens to be in my pantry. I use liver, chicken gizzards - whatever. At the moment, I am using salmon because I have lots and lots of salmon (thanks Jez!). Canned salmon works best, but ground up salmon works fine too.</p><p>This is very complicated, so pay close attention.</p><p>You'll need: salmon, a couple of eggs, some flour, some baking powder and some baking soda. I can't tell you how much, because I am a free spirit when it comes to baking or cooking. I throw it all in the food processor until it's lump-free, then gag whilst spatula-ing it out into a baking pan (a pan which, I should add, is only used for dog baking. For that matter, so is the food processor). I fight with it for a bit until it's sort of smooth, then I throw it in the oven at either 225 or 300 (because I always forget which temperature is the right one) and leave it there until I notice a smell bothering me and remember that I'm baking dog cookies.</p><p>Voila! You can make them with anything! You can use ground beef if you want, and sometimes I add parmesan cheese, or just grated cheese, garlic powder or any other spice I grab out of the cupboard. The stinkier the better.</p><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I smell cookies</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4338774807/" title="b0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4007/4338774807_565db96a16.jpg" alt="b0001" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> <span dir="ltr">Anonymous</span> said...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I, too, have one pupster who loves to go off hunting. Sometimes she is successful-yyyyyeeuck.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Anyway, have you tried finding a hole or whatever it is Woo is after and then calling him to show him your most excellent find? In chipmunk season I actually have better recall because it is believed this food lady has mystical powers to control the appearance of chippy holes.<br /><br /></span>That would probably work, except Wootie knows where the best hunting grounds are, and they aren't accessible by humans. Today he returned from another hunt bleeding once again from his ear and ALSO from his Flamboyance!<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">I've told him to be more careful, but he's not listening.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4312736132/" title="c0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4047/4312736132_426e2c323a.jpg" alt="c0004" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left; font-weight: normal;"> <span dir="ltr">Anonymous</span> said...<p style="font-style: italic;">Oh Food Lady you just scared the livin beejeesuz outa me. Just looked at That'll Do Rescue and saw a pup called DEXTER up for adoption. Had to check and check limb, by limb, tail, ears and markings to make sure it wasn't your/our Dexter.<br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4338801091/" title="dexter 191002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2781/4338801091_7dd5b21ca9.jpg" alt="dexter 191002" height="375" width="500" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Well of COURSE not! As if I'd give away my cutiepatootie puppywuppy! And as if I'd give some other dog his same name! THAT Dexter was named by the shelter, so nothing I could do about it, unfortunately. The only thing he really shares with TOD (The Original Dexter) is really loooong legs. Otherwise, they aren't very mix-upable.<br /><br />Other Dexter is not available for adoption yet, but when he is, you'll be able to read more about him <a href="http://bcbordercollies.moonfruit.com/#/available-dogs/4531400539">here</a>.<br /><br />Lastly, those of you who enjoyed Finn's Sarna Dog Chronicles blog will want to follow her to Haiti via <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.rabidgoats.wordpress.com">RabidGoats</a>. Happy reading!<br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-60133700783596533622010-02-06T15:41:00.000-08:002010-02-06T15:52:32.087-08:00Ya'll didn't tell me<div style="text-align: center;">you were magical blog followers!!<br /><br />All your juju and good thoughts have worked wonders. Tweed has been limp-free since Thursday. I upped his exercise a bit and even with running, jumping and some (Ru-free) hiking, he's weight bearing on all legs, and no limping at all. He gets to go back to class next week. Hazzah!<br /><br />Look how happy he is! Piper doesn't look so happy though...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4335418787/" title="f00018 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2755/4335418787_df8931ca08.jpg" alt="f00018" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I shall reward you all your efforts with totally unstaged (ha ha) photos of dogs in a blueberry field on a sunny day!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This is not my good side. Beeyotch. Lucky for you I'm in a good mood.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4336157270/" title="f00016 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4043/4336157270_b4c730d117.jpg" alt="f00016" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />It'd be nice if his tail was the same colour as the rest of him. Every summer it bleaches out, and doesn't catch up to his darker coat until Spring, just in time for the process to start all over again.<br /><br />This is Piper's impression of a carpenter's level.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4336151786/" title="f00011 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2694/4336151786_b4b9f01e5c.jpg" alt="f00011" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><br />Mr. Woo = two functions only: "Sit" and "Hunt." He managed to offload his bear bell in some undergrowth about 4 days after I implemented it. But we have been working very hard on stuffing his face with homemade fish brownies every time he answers a recall, and I'm getting about 50% success. Which is better than 0%, which is what it had deteriorated to,<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4336153944/" title="f00014 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2724/4336153944_c41ff4ffb8.jpg" alt="f00014" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Dexter is only half interested in what I have to say, apparently.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4335410493/" title="f00015 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2782/4335410493_985b5ae3be.jpg" alt="f00015" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Anyway, thanks again for all your marvelous healing thoughts!! We are so happy to have a fully functioning Tweed again :)<br /><br />Now I have to go throw the ball for Miss Piper.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4335396731/" title="f0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4010/4335396731_2567e5ecb7.jpg" alt="f0002" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-30309649668035078722010-02-03T14:43:00.000-08:002010-02-03T15:23:10.334-08:00I could blog about this dog<div style="text-align: center;">all day, and I don't even know his name!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328933058/" title="e0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4061/4328933058_8680fec8a6.jpg" alt="e0004" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />He's a border collie X Aussie, like Tweed, and he shares Tweed's passion for making funny shaking faces.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328929424/" title="e0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4045/4328929424_57c721a59f.jpg" alt="e0002" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />But he is much, much funnier than Tweed can ever hope to be.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328198655/" title="e0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4040/4328198655_bf7888f1f6.jpg" alt="e0003" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />ha ha!<br /><br />Tweed is not speaking to me at the moment.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">F*ck off.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328962312/" title="e00018 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2783/4328962312_8c5853dcbf.jpg" alt="e00018" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />You may recall a couple of blog posts ago I mentioned off the cuff that Tweed had injured himself whilst chasing Ruger through the forest in Belcarra.<br /><br />Well, he is still injured. For about two days he was a tripod, and then his left hind leg came down, but while his toes are brushing the earth, his foot is by no means supporting very much weight at all. We went off to see our friendly new veterinarian who diagnosed him with a serious case of <span style="font-style: italic;">"Uh, dunno."</span><br /><br />He may or may not have arthritis in his knee. He may or may not have a sprain. He may or may not have a partial cruciate tear. He may or may not ever play agility again.<br /><br />(*insert sad face here*)<br /><br />As he is still not weight bearing on that leg, he is restricted to on leash walks only, lots of rest and is on some anti-inflammatories for 14 days. Should he still be gimpoid by the end of this regime (and we are on day 8 of the problem) we should probably sedate him and x-ray the knee.<br /><br />The on-leash business is making him Very Angry.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">F*ck you.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328222515/" title="e00014 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4038/4328222515_bc02d2f673.jpg" alt="e00014" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />While his siblings romp, frisk, frolic and cavort, he plods along behind me in silent fury.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Yay! Running is So Much FUN!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328207235/" title="e0008 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4009/4328207235_80e21e55d2.jpg" alt="e0008" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Even strangers are mocking him.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328202767/" title="e0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2688/4328202767_0c49c0c80e.jpg" alt="e0005" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />The rage is building. Today he did something he's never done before - he slipped his lead while I was preparing to take a photo of someone else, and ran off!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">GO F*CK YOURSELF!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328950428/" title="e00012 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2210/4328950428_f69081434c.jpg" alt="e00012" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />He did the zoomies for about 3 minutes before I used <span style="font-weight: bold;">Mad Mommy Voice </span>to full effect, and then he hobbled back to me and let me re-leash him.<br /><br />I feel really badly for him. And I feel really sorry for me - my hopes of placing high at Nationals just ran off with Tweed. And I feel really badly for all of you, because if he needs TPLO surgery, the only way I can conceive of paying for it is by selling off my camera gear.<br /><br />It's a sucky situation all around. But hey, there's always a different way to look at things, right? I mean, at least I'm not bleeding from my head.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328204673/" title="e0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2693/4328204673_2b9189e060.jpg" alt="e0006" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />But I guess that's because I DON'T STICK MY HEAD REPEATEDLY IN THORN BUSHES.<br /><br />*ahem*<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328968654/" title="e00023 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2753/4328968654_49d0bd4ff8.jpg" alt="e00023" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Really he's bleeding from his ear tips onto his head, because those ridiculously flappy things get caught on the thorns all the time.<br /><br />And speaking of ears, I do believe Dexter...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328972540/" title="e00025 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2723/4328972540_70fa6fe6c6.jpg" alt="e00025" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />... has been coveting Piper's ears.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328973980/" title="e00027 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4030/4328973980_2aa6d72bcc.jpg" alt="e00027" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />That's because he wuvs his big sister.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328945358/" title="e00010 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4040/4328945358_cf205b80eb.jpg" alt="e00010" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />They're really good friends. They're always togeth - GET OUT OF THE SHOT, TWEED!*<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328947836/" title="e00011 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2780/4328947836_f0142c12af.jpg" alt="e00011" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It's difficult, being so sexy.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328223749/" title="e00015 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4034/4328223749_418d0cf125.jpg" alt="e00015" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">NOW DO WHAT THE FOOD LADY SAYS, AND STAY ON YOUR LEASH, TWEED!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4328232045/" title="e00019 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4048/4328232045_f9a2e5346a.jpg" alt="e00019" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />*Because I know someone is going to point out that Tweed should be on-leash in that photo too, I would just like to say that we are being very strict about the leash business, but Tweed needed to go "Number Two" and he didn't want to do it on leash, so he was trundling off into the bushes to take of that - at a *walk*. The other off-leash photos were all taken when he slipped his lead and pulled a runner. I'm taking his knee problem very seriously, because I want him to heal up!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-47019735900671128572010-01-29T09:07:00.000-08:002010-01-29T09:11:10.633-08:00Happy Birthday to my Big Red Dog<div style="text-align: center;">If my Briggs had lived, he'd be 13 today.<br /><br />This is a photo a friend of mine took at Briggs' first agility trial. He was about 2 years old here. The photo is framed and sits in my office.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4314242434/" title="Briggs Agility by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2732/4314242434_b7e97f606f_o.jpg" alt="Briggs Agility" height="196" width="295" /></a><br /><br />He was such a fine specimen of a dog. Dexter has big shoes to fill.<br /><br />Happy Birthday Briggs. We miss you every day.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-44531091128320391542010-01-26T15:51:00.000-08:002010-01-26T16:17:37.449-08:00Bell of the Ball<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Hello. My name is Mr. Tricky Woo. And I have to wear this goofy and irritating bear bell on my collar now.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307912430/" title="a00027 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4053/4307912430_babddfb046.jpg" alt="a00027" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />HAH! Take that, Wootie.<br /><br />While Jingles tinkles merrily away on our walks, he also cannot disappear because the absence of the ringing is rather apparent. As he starts to wander off, he gets called back - see, Wootie will only take off if he's already out of sight. But if you notice him leaving, he pretends he wasn't going anywhere in the first place. This is one VERY sly dog.<br /><br />Since I put them bell on him on Sunday, he has been remarkably present.<br /><br />We didn't even lose him on the hike today. He did try to scuttle off into the bushes once or twice, but since there were three humans, who were SUPER ANNOYED by his bell, one of us always noticed when the tinkling started to fade from earshot.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Well this sucks.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307166103/" title="a00021 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2743/4307166103_72638d38f2.jpg" alt="a00021" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Bear bells: available for about $4.00 from your local outdoor sporting goods store.<br /><br />Oh look, it's Ru. And Tweed's behind him.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307882012/" title="a0001 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2804/4307882012_6186a09ba2.jpg" alt="a0001" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />We go hiking once a week in the deserted forests in the Belcarra area with Cheryl, who is a dogwalker, and goes there every day for her job. That's a cool job. But she has Ru, a TDBCR adoptee, who has a reputation for "breaking" dogs. While Ru is allegedly an old dog, he outruns everyone on the hike, every single day. Any dog foolish enough to try and keep up with him ends up a crippled gimp at the end of the day.<br /><br />Not that I'm naming any names.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307915930/" title="a00030 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4008/4307915930_02fa8a326a.jpg" alt="a00030" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />The forest can be scary. For it contains borderjacks.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307174627/" title="a00029 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4021/4307174627_cdf8b5f3b5.jpg" alt="a00029" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />... borderjacks who clone themselves, bigger than life.<br /><br />How'd he do that?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307896184/" title="a00013 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2782/4307896184_28bd33e7ba.jpg" alt="a00013" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Oh look, it's Ru again. And Tweed too.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307146729/" title="a0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2767/4307146729_8ebdbc8d6b.jpg" alt="a0006" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />And again.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307886580/" title="a0004 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4065/4307886580_28701678f8.jpg" alt="a0004" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Hey look at that ... again!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307148685/" title="a0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4026/4307148685_53c67da7f7.jpg" alt="a0007" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />The result is The Tri Pod Formerly Known As Tweed. He's totally gimped this afternoon :(<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Tweed's dumb. I'm pretty. Take a picture of me.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307144149/" title="a0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2199/4307144149_12be5e692d.jpg" alt="a0003" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Look who is almost the same size as Piper!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307220169/" title="a00028 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2686/4307220169_d5f45af925.jpg" alt="a00028" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Holycow!<br /><br />Rogue says she is also pretty, and I should take a photo of her too.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307965980/" title="a00014 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2737/4307965980_fbaae983d3.jpg" alt="a00014" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />We are still accepting guesses as to what her breed mix might be.<br /><br />But be careful, for if you guess wrong ...<br /><br /><br />... the borderjack cometh.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4307900394/" title="a00016 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2749/4307900394_10429387d1.jpg" alt="a00016" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-33989734314796882242010-01-22T16:58:00.000-08:002010-02-02T08:18:52.030-08:00Let Freedom Reign<div style="text-align: center;">We went to Campbell Valley off leash park today for some Big Air.<br /><br />We were a little out of practice.<br /><br />First we got some small air.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296691930/" title="y0009 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4034/4296691930_bebf45a5ee.jpg" alt="y0009" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Then some FAIL air.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295935983/" title="y0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4033/4295935983_45bd1b5de9.jpg" alt="y0002" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />And a combination of the two.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295942607/" title="y0006 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4037/4295942607_8f2dbda47c.jpg" alt="y0006" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Finally we got some Big Air.<br />(he did catch this on the way down)<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295939873/" title="y0004b by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2680/4295939873_d4b0be861a.jpg" alt="y0004b" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />We were really having a super good time!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296681942/" title="y0003 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4003/4296681942_9e953daa27.jpg" alt="y0003" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />And then ....<br /><br />I saw this.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296699268/" title="y00016 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2747/4296699268_39338bd875.jpg" alt="y00016" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />A couple minutes later, I saw this:<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296708412/" title="y00025 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2784/4296708412_fdc9b86045.jpg" alt="y00025" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />A few moments after that, I lifted my head and all I saw ...<br /><br />was this.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296701632/" title="y00018 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4035/4296701632_b6074201da.jpg" alt="y00018" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />For Wootie had, yet again, vanished.<br /><br />Ever since his Runaway Woo episode a couple of weeks ago, <span style="font-style: italic;">Operation Scare The Shit Out OF The Food Lady</span> has broadened in scope considerably. It now encompasses sub-operation <span style="font-style: italic;">Make TFL Really Stinkin' Angry</span>, as well as <span style="font-style: italic;">Mission Return Wootie To The Pound</span>. IOW, Mr. Woo is channeling The Littlest Hobo and is making a career out of wandering off - at high speed.<br /><br />First we lost him while hiking in Belcarra earlier this week. We had a massive pack of dogs with us (here's about half of them)<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295997633/" title="w8 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4072/4295997633_fab14ee369.jpg" alt="w8" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />...including my newest favourite, Fonzie.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295996033/" title="w5 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2695/4295996033_7b94220dd3.jpg" alt="w5" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />and still, the little furry orange bastid vanished into thin air and was gone for the longest time.<br /><br />Two nights later, I let all the dogs out for a last pee at midnight and all but Woo returned. I spent half an hour wandering through farmer's fields in my pajamas and a pair of gumboots, with a city girl's flashlight, whisperscreaming his name and getting nada in reply. When I got home, I found him peering out at me from behind my van and when he saw me coming he took off down the driveway and tried to <span style="font-style: italic;">hurl</span> himself through the solid matter known as my front door. Because he KNOWS damn well I'm comin' for him.<br /><br />There are so many ironies at work here. It is ironic that I have put reliable recalls on about 200 foster dogs in 10 years, but can't get Mr. Woo to so much as flick an ear in my direction when I call him. It is ironic that last night in agility class, I gave Mr. Woo to Auntie Fiona to run as she was down a dog, and he couldn't run a whole course with her because it was "too far from Mummy" and he kept running back to sit on my lap. It is ironic that my 5 month old puppy listens better than my 4 year old dog.<br /><br />*shakes fist at Woo*<br /><br />MORE BEATINGS, LESS LOVE!!!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ha ha. You don't mean that.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295944103/" title="y0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2704/4295944103_5bdcfbf1f2.jpg" alt="y0007" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dude, you really shouldn't try her patience. You are going to be in so much trouble.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295945671/" title="y0008 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4062/4295945671_4fefa70679.jpg" alt="y0008" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Did I mention he is long-line wise? He won't go anywhere if he's on a long line (which, incidentally, he sports when he goes out for potties now. The other end is bolted to the porch, until we get ourselves a fence) and, in fact, he won't go anywhere if he knows I'm watching him. But if I take my eyes off him for 10 seconds, he's gone like a bat outta hell and he doesn't come back until he's darn well good and ready. And what can I say? I don't have <a href="http://365puppy.blogspot.com/2010/01/eye-want-me-some-piper.html">Dexter's eye</a>, I can't watch him constantly.<br /><br />This behaviour is all brand new - it either coincides with Dexter's arrival, or our move to the Sticks. I think it's the latter - Wootie was born to hunt, and the countryside is just too full of opportunity for him to indulge his passions.<br /><br />Neither food, nor the Wootie Toy, holds his attention any longer.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How long do I have to keep this up? I wanna hunt me some wabbits.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296692856/" title="y00011 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4032/4296692856_62a4922eda.jpg" alt="y00011" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ahem. *I* come when I am called. *I* win the competition run in class every Thursday. *I* am a good dog. Pay attention to me. ME.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296695632/" title="y00013 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4045/4296695632_3c591a0878.jpg" alt="y00013" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Did some say RECALL? I'm coming!!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296694176/" title="y00012 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4014/4296694176_ee215cf157.jpg" alt="y00012" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Me too! Me too!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296686188/" title="y0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4038/4296686188_19aa4bba5a.jpg" alt="y0005" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Oh well. I guess I'm not the worst trainer in the world. After all, I've taught Dexter to play with a frisbee!<br /><br />Dexter, bring it here.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296706984/" title="y00024 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4060/4296706984_b852be1cc9.jpg" alt="y00024" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />I said, BRING IT HERE!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4295960717/" title="y00023 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2784/4295960717_d72b8a8787.jpg" alt="y00023" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Just kidding. Dexter is very good at fetch now.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296704072/" title="y00022 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4025/4296704072_baccb2c2fa.jpg" alt="y00022" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Piper: Nature's Transit System<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4296710900/" title="y00031 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2691/4296710900_c711e96fa7.jpg" alt="y00031" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />So ... anyone got a GPS system they want to lend me? I can't track Woo. Maybe a satellite can!!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-28496636024094127242010-01-19T21:36:00.000-08:002010-01-19T21:39:48.046-08:00Portrait of a fat dog<div style="text-align: center;">separated from the objects of his desire by both a fence, and Uncle Ruedi's stock stick :)<br /><br />Yes, Ruedi taught Wootie (weird, that rhymes) not to chase sheep!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4290018944/" title="v2 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4068/4290018944_ce7cbe44d4.jpg" alt="v2" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />My camera is in the shop, hence the lack of updates. But I did want to let MC Hamster's fans know that last night, he expired in his sleep :( He was old - like a million in hamster years - and it was his time to go.<br /><br />RIP MC Hamster.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/3317682609/" title="a0002 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3309/3317682609_539115c3e4.jpg" alt="a0002" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-76113501685978685002010-01-11T06:00:00.000-08:002010-01-11T06:00:00.380-08:00Tried a new dog park<div style="text-align: center;">The one where the fattest dogs in the world all hang out.<br /><br />See?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263819197/" title="c00041 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2792/4263819197_930503e27e.jpg" alt="c00041" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, making fun of my girth again are we? How exciting. *YAWN*</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263775719/" title="c0008 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4040/4263775719_6a98d94b08.jpg" alt="c0008" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Ha ha. But seriously, compared to the other dogs we saw at the park, Wootie is practically svelte. Actually, to be fair, Wootie isn't really THAT fat at all. He is *very* hairy, and has a chest like a beer keg, but you can quite easily feel his ribs. If you felt just his ribs, you'd think he needed to lose a whopping pound or possibly two. It's his back that you can't find, up around his shoulders. It's buried in so much hair and lard that it may actually be at home in the toybox as much as you can prove it's in his body where it's supposed to be.<br /><br />Or maybe he's keeping it in his magnificent Flamboyance(tm).<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263768853/" title="c0005 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2689/4263768853_a71088b338.jpg" alt="c0005" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />There were so many obese - not just fat, we're talking easy-chair-plus-an-ottoman obese - dogs at the park that it made me cringe. One border collie we ran across was so huge I could easily have dined on his kitchen table of a back.<br /><br />I had this predictable conversation with the owner as I was leaving.<br /><br />Him: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Are those ALL your dogs???</span>"<br /><br />Me: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Yes</span>."<br /><br />Him: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Do you do flyball with them?</span>"<br /><br />Me: "<span style="font-style: italic;">No.</span>"<br /><br />Him. "<span style="font-style: italic;">Oh. We tried flyball with our dog, but he didn't seem to like it</span>."<br /><br />Me: "<span style="font-style: italic;">That's because he's 30 lbs too fat to run or jump. He'd probably enjoys sports a lot more if he wasn't shaped like a beach ball.</span>"<br /><br />Him: mouth agape.<br /><br />I know, I know - I should mind my own business. But I can't help it! That poor dog was so fat he couldn't even keep up with Dexter, who trips over his own giraffe legs every 4.5 seconds. He'd only just walked into the park and he was already panting like crazy. It's just plain sad.<br /><br />Never mind the Jack Russel that looked like he'd swallowed the aforementioned border collie. Oy.<br /><br />And it wasn't just fat dogs that made this new park kinda creepy; there was the unnecessarily high (and ungodly) percentage of Cesar Milan Wannabes who kept poking their dogs and going "<span style="font-style: italic;">Zzzzt</span>." WTF is that supposed to do anyway? Is there a magic noise-making button on dogs that I've missed all these years, that makes your dog do EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING ALREADY when you push/zzzt it?<br /><br />And then there was this dog (also really fat):<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263835917/" title="c00049 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2725/4263835917_bfcf4feaaf.jpg" alt="c00049" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />His owner opened the gate, sat down on a bench and screamed "RUN RUN!" at the dog, who immediately took off and started doing laps around the park for no particular reason - he was not chasing anyone or anything, he was just literally running in a big circle over and over and over. It was the exact behaviour we see in, and try to train out of, rescue dogs who run fence lines in their yards. The dog basically ran non stop for about 20 minutes, literally running a trench in the soft ground, until the owner hollered "That's enough!" and the poor thing collapsed under a table.<br /><br />I have never seen anything like it.<br /><br />Fortunately, aside from the big play space, the park also has a shortish network of paths in the woods, so we wandered away before my brain short circuited.<br /><br />Annnd then I made my dogs pose on stuff.<br /><br />Which Wootie really likes.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263772349/" title="c0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2799/4263772349_476ae1e0d3.jpg" alt="c0007" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />See?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263800033/" title="c00024 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2784/4263800033_202b41a24d.jpg" alt="c00024" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />But Tweed can take it or leave it.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263778729/" title="c00014 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4023/4263778729_e0736a964f.jpg" alt="c00014" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Who wants me to stop making dogs pose on stuff?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Excuse me, but I'd like you to stop making me pose on stuff.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4264548164/" title="c00021 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4027/4264548164_46e274a631.jpg" alt="c00021" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh GAWD. PLEASE stop making me pose on stuff! I beg of you.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263803897/" title="c00026 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2733/4263803897_79cf4cc93d.jpg" alt="c00026" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">YAY! Thanks, Food Lady!</span><br />(you can see the bare patch on her chest I had to shave to take care of that hot spot. It's healed up very nicely. Hibitane cream is a gift from the heavens.)<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263810069/" title="c00034 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4006/4263810069_683565d63c.jpg" alt="c00034" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />When Dexter started single-pawedly trying to demolish the forest<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4264532458/" title="c00016 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4060/4264532458_89a8a0f277.jpg" alt="c00016" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />... we headed back to the open field.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm just going to take this tree with me.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4264535670/" title="c00017 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4038/4264535670_fd9e36011c.jpg" alt="c00017" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />And then I caught Piper doing something shameful.<br /><br />GASP! Piper, are you playing DumbBall???<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What? No! What?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263838439/" title="c00050 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4060/4263838439_2c06a292f6.jpg" alt="c00050" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was just taking this hockey ball to the, umm, puddle. It's thirsty. Yeah, that's it.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4264566706/" title="c00040 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4053/4264566706_37f1fca198.jpg" alt="c00040" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Now I'm just going to put it back here under this tree where I found it. Totally innocent. I swear.</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4264580412/" title="c00047 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4015/4264580412_872ca5a642.jpg" alt="c00047" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Speaking of puddles, guess which two dogs got a feet-and-belly bath when we got home?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4263827341/" title="c00045 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4017/4263827341_6dbf230f60.jpg" alt="c00045" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So this is what Wootie would look like if I punched him really hard in the face and then washed him in hot water. Interesting. I wonder if that would require thumbs?</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4264591516/" title="c00052 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4050/4264591516_d6a1661686.jpg" alt="c00052" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-34440173283112602502010-01-10T10:53:00.001-08:002010-01-11T08:55:38.044-08:00Another WIN for TDBCR dogs!<div style="text-align: center;">Former TDBCR dog Zephyr takes the Silver medal in the Weave Pole Competition at the <a href="http://www.whistler.com/purina_challenge/">Purina Incredible Dog Challenge</a> in Whistler, BC!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4262683117/" title="Zephjan1010 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4003/4262683117_a5e697505b.jpg" alt="Zephjan1010" height="500" width="456" /></a><br /><br />This is from today's Province Newspaper. Congratulations Dana and Zephyr!!<br /><br />Rescue dogs can do ANYTHING!!!<br /><br />More Photos:<br /><br />On the Podium!<br /><img src="http://www.demotix.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/display_318xX_scaled/photos/219171.jpg" /><br /><br />Zephyr in action during the disc dog competition<br /><img src="http://www.demotix.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/display_318xX_scaled/photos/219173.jpg" /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27165799.post-15719540872310900302010-01-03T18:12:00.000-08:002010-01-03T18:23:27.626-08:00How to hypnotize a Jack Russell Terrier<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242984234/" title="r00015 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4010/4242984234_60733b34f5.jpg" alt="r00015" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Too bad it doesn't work to stop the barking.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242996470/" title="r00019 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2687/4242996470_5cbf9c02b7.jpg" alt="r00019" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />We paid a visit to Hayward Lake today.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4243012000/" title="r00021 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4010/4243012000_637d2af720.jpg" alt="r00021" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />It's got some groovy scenery.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242246507/" title="r00023 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2517/4242246507_a5fc384aeb.jpg" alt="r00023" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />But the beach was too small, and in terrible light, to get any really good photos.<br /><br />So sometimes, you have to rely on comic relief.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242197605/" title="r00010 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2788/4242197605_d00c9f07d5.jpg" alt="r00010" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Ruger was no help in this department, as he is Very Serious About Fetching Sticks. No room for fun, k?<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242992018/" title="r00017 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2719/4242992018_30c09455f7.jpg" alt="r00017" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br />Well, maybe a *little* room<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4243037198/" title="r00028 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2703/4243037198_6c8714f5e2.jpg" alt="r00028" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I had ONE shot at a group photo, before Dexter and Cal took off. Notice how Cheryl's dogs are looking at her, and all of mine are ignoring me (except Dexter, who is trying to silently convince me to give his release command)<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4243047066/" title="r0001 copy by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2736/4243047066_accee528c4.jpg" alt="r0001 copy" height="333" width="500" /></a><br /><br />I know why Piper is ignoring me ... I am making her wear a t-shirt. Last night I found a gross, disgusting, inflamed and painful looking hot spot on her chest. After cleaning it up, I put one of my old t-shirts on her to protect it and keep her from scratching. She hates me now.<br /><br />At least Cal still loves me. And by me, I mean the cookies in my pocket.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242994276/" title="r00018 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2775/4242994276_b18c1c01f1.jpg" alt="r00018" height="500" width="311" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">DID SOMEBODY SAY COOKIE?!?!?!</span><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcwoofs/4242960962/" title="r0007 by The Food Lady, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4060/4242960962_cca3cf96ff.jpg" alt="r0007" height="500" width="306" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12