Right or Wrong?

                                                by Laura Crum

            OK, this isn’t a horse question—but I guess it could be. It’s an animal question. Something happened the other day that really upset me. I’m not sure if I’m right to be upset. Maybe I’m totally wrong. You tell me.

            Before I begin, I want to warn you that this isn’t a very pleasant post. Owners of expensive purebred dogs would do best to click on the “X” now. Because though I like many of you personally, I am in general opposed to the concept of paying a lot of money for a purebred dog when many sweet, intelligent dogs are euthanised for lack of a home. So don’t read this if that stance offends you, because I’m not intending to pick on anyone, except perhaps the acquaintance I talk about here. I am, however, going to state my point of view and express some of my feelings.

            I have a friend/acquaintance that, for various reasons, I see from time to time. We both have kids, we both have animals. She has rescued a couple of stray cats; she has a horse. I think she takes good care of her animals. We have things in common, obviously. But she recently did something that, quite truthfully, left me aghast.

            My sort of friend has had a small dog the whole time I have known her. Small and furry dog named Maxi. Good with the kids and cats, getting older. Sometimes the friend would complain that Maxi was getting incontinent and deaf. I have an older dog who is getting incontinent and deaf, so I sympathized. We would both remark about how our old dogs still seemed to enjoy life. And Maxi clearly was a happy little dog.

            And then, a few months ago this friend started talking about getting a puppy. I had acquired a puppy—a little rescue mutt—a couple of years ago, and I immediately waxed lyrical about what a great addition she was and how she has perked my older dog up…etc. But it soon became evident that my friend had something else in mind.

            She asked my opinion about Labs—because she wanted to buy a purebred Lab puppy. I have to admit, I took a deep breath. Amongst my friends/acquaintances, I can think of roughly ten people who have bought a purebred Lab puppy in the last couple of years. With all the sweet, wonderful dogs in this world that are being euthanised for lack of a home, these folks had to spend a thousand dollars or more on a purebred Labrador retriever—the trendy dog of the moment. This particular woman couldn’t decide on whether she wanted yellow or chocolate (rather like deciding on a piece of furniture), and what did I think of Labs?

            I told her the truth. (She asked me, remember? I didn’t hand out my unsolicited opinion.) I said I had grown up with a Lab and it was a sweet dog, very enthusiastic and high energy, and pretty stupid, by my lights. Almost every other Lab I have ever met could be described in these words. The smartest one I know is described by her owner as not too bright. (He used to have cowdogs, so he knows the difference.) Another Lab owner that I like said that she preferred dogs that weren’t too smart. Good for her. She knows what she’s signed up for.

            I told my friend that I found Labs boring, but if that’s the sort of dog you wanted, fine. Me, I like smart dogs. My Queensland heelers could outthink plenty of people, and the two terrier crosses I have now are both plenty bright. I made a brief plea for the friend to consider a rescue dog (which was shrugged off), and then I asked if she thought Maxi would mind a new puppy. The friend made no answer to this. I got the impression that I hadn’t produced the feedback she wanted (as in Labs are wonderful, I like the chocolate ones --or yellow ones--best), and she was done talking to me about it. Oh well.

            So last month I ran into my friend and her new Lab puppy (chocolate, in case you were curious). The puppy was cute, of course, but in my opinion not one/tenth as cute as my little terrier cross mutt. But to each his own. I petted the puppy and looked around. No Maxi.

            “Where’s Maxi?” I asked.

The friend glanced pointedly at her young children, shook her head, and said nothing.

It took me a minute, but I got it. And I have to admit, it upset me. I said my goodbyes as quickly as I could and I got out of there. Because I didn’t want to contemplate the fact that my friend had obviously put her old dog down so she could get a new puppy. Old dog was inconvenient, so let’s get rid of her.

I was and am afraid to ask the friend directly, and its none of my business, but the last we talked Maxi was doing fine, just like my old dog. Yes, my old dog is a nuisance in some ways, but she’s been my dog for fifteen years. She’s been my little boy’s companion, as Maxi was my friend’s children’s companion. She’s a sweet dog who still trots happily down to the barnyard to feed the horses with me. I cannot understand the mindset that would put an old friend down because she is inconvenient. Because you want a new, trendy, purebred dog and you don’t want to cope with the old dog any more. I can’t stop thinking about it.

So here’s my question. Am I wrong to be aghast here? I have said nothing to my “friend,” though I am avoiding her. I don’t plan on inflicting my thoughts upon her. I’m not even sitting in judgment on her. How could I? I don’t really know the exact circumstances; I’m not in charge of the morals of others. But I do have a right to my feelings and my feelings are appalled.

Any thoughts?

PS--Here's a photo of my two not purebred or trendy, but very sweet (and were both free) dogs. They are wonderful family dogs. The little black dog (Star) is as smart as any dog I've ever owned. And you've got to admit, they are entertaining just to look at (!)

            

Six Degrees of Lost - on Sale - 99 cents!

Hi Everyone - I'm having a promotion on one of my books, with the cooperation of my publisher, Musa.

From May 1-15, Six Degrees of Lost will be only .99 as an ebook.

It's a sweet story, told in two different voices, and it's about a lost dog, a first love, and a journey.

 

Olive’s mother is headed to jail and her brother to join the Army, so thirteen-year-old Olive is uprooted from sunny California and dumped in Washington State like a stray. That's exactly what she feels like surrounded by her aunt’s collection of homeless dogs, cats, and horses.

Fourteen-year-old David’s future is already carved in stone. From a military family with two brothers serving overseas, he’s been pointed towards the Air Force Academy his entire life - but a rafting trip gone awry might ruin his chances.

When a runaway dog is almost hit by a car, the search for its owner leads Olive and David, two teens from entirely different backgrounds, to an unlikely bond. Will their growing attraction to each other be enough to keep Olive from a foolhardy journey to find her mother? Will David risk his family’s plans to save her?

Six Degrees of Lost will be available at this special price on Amazon, Barnes&Noble, and some other sites, I believe.

And although horses are not the main theme of this book, it does of course, have horses in it! Here's a short excerpt:

“So what’s with all those dogs barking in the back yard?”

“They’re foster dogs. My aunt takes them in when they get too crowded at the animal shelter. Some of them aren’t adoptable, and would be put to sleep otherwise.”

“Really?” I gulp.

“We’ve also got six cats in the house, plus the horses out back. Come on, I’ll show you.” The yellow dog jumps up and down, begging for the stick. Olive flings it down the driveway. I see a small shelter out back, with sagging fences. Olive is already headed that way, taking short barefoot steps on the gravel, so I follow.

A sway-backed pinto horse with a mouth full of hay sticks his head out from the shelter and then turns and goes back to his breakfast. It looks kind of bony.

“Wow,” I say. “Skinny.”

“Yeah, that’s Paintball.” She grins. “Well, that’s what I call him. He was found wandering loose up in the National Forest. Aunt Trudy says somebody just dumped him there.”

“Why would anybody do that?”

Olive shrugs. “I know. Hard to believe, huh? I guess they couldn’t afford to feed him, but still, that’s just mean.”

A huge brown horse wanders over to the fence. “Who’s this one?” I reach between the strands of wire and pat his head. He’s just as skinny as the first one.

“My aunt says he’s ancient, and we’ll probably never get his weight back on. They found him tied to a tree in front of the animal shelter, but they don’t really have any facilities for horses there, so he came here instead. He’s sweet, huh?”

“Yeah, he seems nice.” The old horse pushes his head underneath my hand, clearly enjoying the attention.

“I call him Shakespeare. ‘Cause he looks so noble and elegant.”

Elegant? I think. That’s a stretch. “Can you ride them?”

“I don’t know. Aunt Trudy says we don’t really know that much about them. Anyway, it’s been too hot, and she’s always busy. She’s a clerk at the animal shelter thrift shop, and she takes turns working down at the shelter, besides feeding all these animals here at home.”

Olive talks so fast she makes my head swim. She barely takes a breath, and rattles on. “So besides the ones she takes in from the shelter, my aunt is always finding animals, too. She says there must be an invisible sign at the bottom of the driveway that says: Lost Animals Stop Here.”

“Is that how you found this dog?” I stroke the big lab’s ears, and he presses against me.

“He was standing in the middle of the road,” she says, “and almost got hit by a car.” She smiles. “Maybe he was reading the sign.”

---

Hope some of you will hop on over and pick this one up while it's on sale at this great price. It's perfect for middle-grade readers through adult, and animal lovers of all ages!

Thanks! We appreciate our readers very much!

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Dogs and Horses

Dogs have been very much on my mind lately - ever since we decided to get a second dog as a companion to our lab mix named Homer (otherwise known as the Best. Dog. Ever.) On my personal blog, I listed our requirements, and along with stay home and love cats, one of the big ones is Be Good With Livestock.

Because we've all had our horror stories with dogs and livestock, right? (Well, maybe you've been lucky.) It's hard enough to raise up your own dog to not chase horses or other livestock, but often there are neighbors whose dogs are the problem. You know, the ones who just moved to the country and who think it's "cute" to see their dogs exhibiting a "herding instinct."

In most rural areas I've lived in, this "cute" behavior can be reason enough for the dog to be destroyed, either by the owner of the livestock or animal control.

Sometimes, even your own dog can be the problem. One of my most embarrassing incidents happened at a team-penning. I was there to compete, and had brought our little Heeler/McNab along, who was six months old. Like a lot of horse people, I tend to like these kinds of dogs, but their herding instinct is strong. I had the dog securely fastened to my horse trailer, and she was behaving (or so I thought.)

I was horseback, watching another team compete, when I noticed a flash of black and white, and suddenly a little dog was in the middle of the arena scattering cattle in every direction. With three horses trying to quietly pick out their animals from the herd, and cattle all of sudden bolting like crazy, it's a wonder someone wasn't hurt. Then I heard the announcer's voice over the loudspeaker: "Whose dog is that? Get that *&^%# dog out of the arena!"

*Gulp* I wanted to claim innocence -act like I'd never seen the dog before. But I called her, and she came, and I promptly put her inside my rig, where she couldn't get out. Gosh, I thought I'd never live that down. (And I left her home at future team-pennings.)

And you might have experienced the kind of dog-owners who drive up to your home or stable, and immediately (without asking) lower their tailgate and allow a couple of huge dogs to run all over - just because they're now "in the country." Bad idea, folks. Always ask, or better yet, leave your dogs in the vehicle or leave them home.

Oh, and as far as our dog search? We haven't found the right one yet. Found a wonderful older black lab who is great with our livestock, but she chases cats - badly. And that's a deal-breaker for me. So we're still looking - for another best dog ever.

How about you? What kind of dogs do you have, and are they good with your horses?

Ever had any bad (or embarrassing) incidences of dogs misbehaving around livestock?

EWWWW!

Something rather yucky happened to me at the stables today. I’d just finished riding Kwintus, had showered him, made him comfortable, put my tack away and was sitting taking off my boots when Fiz, Steph’s four-month-old Swiss Shepherd puppy, bounded up to me. Fiz is a bright-eyed, floppy white bundle of fluff, an open invitation to gaga-babble and those rub-a-dub, big goofy cuddles. Always a sucker for rub-a-dubs with puppies, I leant over to interact gaga-ishly with him, letting him nibble my hair, and smushing my face in his soft white fluffiness.

Oops.

You see, today, Fiz wasn’t just soft white fluffiness. As he gamboled away, distracted by a falling leaf, something pungent filled my nostrils. Eww. Concerned, I picked up the tip of my ponytail and took a tentative whiff. Big eww. But what the heck was it? It smelt kind of like garlic, but possibly a little beyond.
Unable to figure it out and unwilling to use my imagination, I settled for garlic that had “gone off”.

Steph appeared at the tack room door.

“Your dog just rubbed something smelly all over me,” I said, zipping up my boots, putting on my flip-flops and pulling a distraught face. “D’you think he ate some of Kwint’s garlic powder?” (we’ve been feeding Kwintus garlic powder supplements in an effort to discourage the squadrons of horse-flies and other little flying bastards that torture him whenever he’s out in the field. In case you’re curious, I’m not sure the garlic helps much – the far more chemically formulated Wellcare anti-fly lotion seems far more efficient, as does the brand new (chemical) Centaura spray bought at considerable expense from my lovely veterinarian. Believe me, I really was trying to do the decent organic thing but if you’d seen my very spotty, very itchy, poor demented horse you’d have caved to the pharmaceutical big dogs too.

Steph looked dubious. “I finished the tub of garlic two days ago, so Fiz couldn’t
have eaten any of that. But I did see him rolling in something not too kosher looking earlier, so…” She threw up her arms and shrugged.

A wave of nausea erupted inside me. I sniffed my tee-shirt, immediately wishing I hadn’t. Blimey, whatever the dog had contaminated me with was seriously intense. As I emerged from the tack room, a gentle breeze ruffled my tumbledown pony-tail, wafting stray blonde strands around my face. I said rude words and promptly scraped my hair tightly off my face, securing it in a knot.

Steph chuckled. I smirked, and urged Fiz to give her a taste of the same medicine.

“Can you take Vicky home?” asked Steph a few minutes later, ambling past me with a bag of hay as I picked up my bag and went to give Kwintus a kiss goodbye before heading towards my car. Vicky is her cleaning lady. She lives near me, so I often give her a lift home on Wednesdays.

Unsure of whether poor Vicky would enjoy riding home with my smelly self, I nevertheless said it would be my pleasure.

“The puppy rubbed something yucky in my face,” I told Vicky apologetically as we headed down towards the main road. “Here, smell my hair.” I leant over the gearbox and offered her a charming sniff.


Vicky giggled. “Naughty puppy. All day he is bringing a very smelly bone in the house and eating it. Even he rolls in it. Is an old, VERY smelly bone. With worms in it. Pooh! All day I throw it outside, but always he brings it in again. He thinks it’s very nice. Naughty puppy!” She burst out laughing, then turned to me and frowned. “Hmm, is very smelly. I think maybe we are needing to open the car windows today.”

With pinched nostrils and the wind teasing my worm-ridden smelly old bone contaminated top-knot, we whizzed back towards civilization. I dropped Vicky off, chanced a deep breath, regretted it, and then refrained from breathing until I dove almost headfirst into my bath.

Ewww!

Ever happen to you?

Doggie Woes

I know on this blog we talk a lot about horses, but today I think I'll change it up because I need help with a problem and I'm hoping someone out there might have a good suggestion or two. Today I'm writing about dogs. I think many horse people are also dog lovers. It does seem to go hand in hand. I'm not sure why that is, maybe we're all simply animal lovers.

So, we have two dogs. They're wonderful dogs. They keep me company while I write all day. They like to go in the car with me. They wait patiently for breakfast and dinner and they are just good dogs all the way around. One of the dogs is a big, actually HUGE Rhodesian Ridgeback. Ridgebacks were bred in Africa to hunt lions. Basically they're big hound dogs. Our Ridgeback is named Java and his favorite past time is to sleep. I can't ever imagine this dog hunting lions. He's a tad spoiled. He used to sleep in the bed with us until I finally had enough. He weighs as much as another person at 115 pounds. Now he has a dog bed in our room and he gets a blanket put on him every night because he gets cold. This was something my husband started and I used to think he was being ridiculous, but you will now find me every night covering Java up. However, our big lug of a dog is not the problem.

We have another dog and her name is Miley (yes we watch a lot of Hannah Montana around here). We got Miley when she was about 4 months old last year at the pound. We think she is half shephard and half lab. She is the sweetest, smartest dog I think I've ever had. She's playful, good with the kids and is a good listener. But here is the problem--she paces the house all night. She gets a ton of exercise because we run them daily at the dogs' beach, but it doesn't matter. She paces. I know this is likely a guarding thing and I should be grateful that she is on the look out, but we have hard wood floors (not a big house either so I can hear her from the back to the fornt easily) and I am a super light sleeper, so it's a problem. Not only does she pace, she will get in her bed (in our room too), for a bit, then get up and pace, then jump on our bed and lick my face, then get off and it goes on like this all night long. What is she trying to tell me? She's been exercised, fed and watered and given a lot of attention throughout the day. Now we do know she was likely abused before we got her and we have worked through many isssues around shyness that she had. She is still a bit insecure, but she trusts us completely. Do you think she paces because she's anxious? I'm just curious as to what some of you think, because I'm tired. Of course right now she is sound asleep.

We'll get through it and I think eventually she'll learn to sleep when her family sleeps, but if anyone out there has any ideas on what I can try please let me know. I may have to go and take a nap. I think if I tried to write right now it would be a jumbled mess.

Thanks!

Cheers,
Michele