Thursday, July 29, 2010

Chihuahua Death Matches in North Korea! Toy Breeds Being Fought All All Over the Globe! Video.

Chihuahua dog fighting has become a popular sport in North Korea. These vicious battles, often to the death, are just one example of the sport of toy breed fighting, an activity that is becoming more popular throughout the world. Often these dogs fight to the death. Even if the dogs are not killed, they are often left maimed.
Dogs that don't survive in the Korean matches are butchered and made into a popular soup with chilies. (See recipe below.)
Before and after photo of a combatant dog.

North Korea isn't the only country where this horrible blood sport is taking place. Toy poodles are being fought in Honduras, and Cockapoos are the victims of this horrible practice in Lichtenstein.

I urge caution to viewers of this secret video of a North Korean dog fight. It may be too disturbing for young children. The dog is being led to the fight, then the fight begins. Unfortunately, because the video was shot secretly, it is not exactly clear what is taking place, but the videographer assures us that this is a fight between two Chihuahua mix dogs that led to the death of one of the dogs.

Honduran fighting poodle.

Korean Chihuahua Soup.
 Boil Chihuahua parts in four liters of water.
Add one head of garlic, peeled and diced.
Stir in 20 small hot chilies.
Simmer for two hours.
Add half cabbage and cook another ten minutes.
Serves an army.

Photos courtesy of Flickr. Thanks Tappit, Celladoor, and Chrisinside. Video by a North Korean PETA member.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Why So Stubborn? Pit Bull Kills Two Year-Old. Why Are You So Smart?

Why are Americans so stubborn about their dogs? It seems as if many Americans, men and women believe that their dogs have more rights than their neighbors. "Dogs should run wild," some people say. "I don't believe in leash laws."
As an ex-mail carrier, I've heard a million excuses why Fluffy and Brutus should be loose and endangering me. People are willing to endure a lot so they don't have to rein in their pets.
One customer of mine didn't receive mail delivery for years. He had a pit bull he refused to control. The pit bull patrolled the neighborhood, unfettered. It was frightening. Unfortunately, instead of controlling his animal, the neighbors finally had had enough and dog-napped the animal and threw it onto a busy freeway. All the guy needed to do was control his dog. Instead, the neighbors and the dog suffered. Ah, it's a free country.

I have been challenged to fight about a dog. I have been threatened. One old man told me he would have my job if I pepper-sprayed his dog who was threatening me. Another man told me his Doberman, who had me cornered, didn't bite. Boy, whoever sold him that protection dog really took him for a ride.
A fellow mail carrier I know heard that a dog didn't bite, even though the dog had just bit him four times! My wife, another mail carrier, was told the dog that had drawn considerable blood after biting her, didn't bite.

I've never seen a loose dog in Paris or London. Even in Italy, where loose dogs are more common, I have never felt threatened by a dog. Not here.

In San Francisco, Oakland, the suburbs, loose dogs are all over the place. Pit bulls run wild in some areas. I know, they don't bite. Tell that to the little girl who just lost her life to a pack of family pit bulls.

Americans need to grow up. Controlling your dog need not be a pissing contest. You know what, it's a damn shame people have to be maimed or killed by dogs before we start to get it. The grandfather whose dogs just killed his granddaughter is facing years in jail. Dogs really don't mind a leash.

A couple of weeks ago, pit bull-mix dogs attacked several adults in Golden Gate Park. Last week, a group of pit bulls mauled a two year-old child to death and in a separate incident, a child was bitten in the face by a pit bull with the owner present. He had invited the child to "pet the dog."

Can we stop with the amateur pit bull rescues already? That was the situation with the grandfather who lost his granddaughter to his pit bulls. He couldn't stand to get rid of the dogs. Cesar Millan he wasn't, and neither are you.

I'm sorry, pit bulls are bred for aggressiveness. They can snap. So can a poodle, but most poodles aren't likely to maul a child to death. Yet pit bull owners continue to protest that the dogs can be rehabilitated through love and understanding. Fine. Take a chance with your child thank you. Not with my grandchildren. And don't expect me to pay for your kid's injuries if he gets mauled by your dogs. Hard-hearted? You bet I am. Don't forget, I was a mail carrier. I have been stalked by pit bulls. This is not hyperbole-- I was stalked by a pit bull. After the owner cursed me out for being a "coward," and after I stood and rationally discussed my situation with him, and after he promised me the dog would never be out again, within a week the dog was running loose. This was a irresponsible owner. There are lots of them.

But the pit bulls who mauled the two year-old to death in the Bay Area had his dogs in the garage. When the child in San Francisco got mauled to death what, ten years ago, the dogs were in his basement. Are you equipped to keep your dogs away from the public? Promise? Are you prepared to face prison for keeping dangerous animals if they happen to maim or kill someone?

I like Scottish terriers. They're feisty. My Scottish terrier bit my toddler granddaughter. Luckily she wasn't hurt, but it doesn't mean I think Scottish terriers are appropriate around young kids. It is in their nature to be snappish, aloof, and stubborn. Pit bull breeding is even more of a crap shoot.

Do you know the parents of the pit bull you are prepared to adopt? Are you expecting that you can reason with your dogs? I can't reason with my adult children sometimes. What makes you so smart?

Don't tell me you have a big lot and your dogs are fenced in. Dogs get out of yards.

Everyone knows I love dogs. My sister has a pit bull mix. Cool dog but I didn't entirely trust it. Thankfully the dog is more Labrador than pit bull and they have no children and a very high brick wall.

We shouldn't expect animals to go against their nature. A wolf is a wolf. They are dangerous house pets. This is fact. A loaded gun is dangerous. Wolf mix dogs are high on the list of dogs that are dangerous to people. This is fact. Pit bulls and wolf mix dogs can, and do cause serious injuries.

Go to your local pet shelter's website and look at the dogs for adoption. How many adult pit bulls and pit bull mixes are there? When folks are turning in their Chihuahuas in record numbers because they don't want to care for them, can you imagine the difficulties involved in caring for a pit bull?

God bless you for thinking you can make a difference by adopting a pit bull. I don't think you can. There's too many of them, and frankly, you don't know where they've been. If you are scrupulous in your care, and your yard is absolutely secure, you still have to worry if the neighbor's cat happens into your yard.

It is narcissistic to imagine you can change something that you can't. Please don't gamble with my welfare or the welfare of my grandchildren. You may be a saint. Again, I say God bless you. Imagine how many idiots are not like you and they have pit bulls. They have them for protection, or because they want to be big shots. Meanwhile the shelters are crammed with these dogs. When one gets loose all our asses are on the line. Enough already.

Okay, the breed can't be banned but let's be honest about how dangerous they are. If one gets loose all our asses are on the line. Enough already. Let's give up a lost cause.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Accuracy in Media-- Dog Wants Species Change to Cat-- Call Me Politically Incorrect.

I opened my big mouth. In a conversation last night, after coming home from dinner with my wife, daughter, and son-in-law, I brought up the subject of accuracy in media. Actually, I expect I sounded homophobic. I am not.
Living in the San Francisco Bay Area, we are subject to a lot of "different" ideas. Words are charged. Say "Marriage" and one might need to defend an opinion about gay marriage. The prevailing opinion in this area is that gay marriage is a moral right. Forget that. It's not the discussion. I object to the words used to describe certain people.

In an article about a year ago, I read that a somewhat famous male actor had arrived in San Francisco with his "husband" to give a lecture. I find this a dicey use of language. It is the tail wagging the dog in my opinion. First off, are these people actually married in any state? If not, then husband is a term that is inaccurate. If a heterosexual couple live together without benefit of marriage, in California they are not legally husband and wife. That's the law. I don't think anyone would object to avoiding the words "husband" or "wife" in this context. Secondly, in the relationship of the homosexual actor and his "mate," I'm not sure who is the husband. What if one of the two wants to be called the "wife?" Are we subject to acknowledging this? It is so confusing. If they are actually married, the actor and his mate, then really, I acknowledge that they should be accorded the terms generally given to married couples. But husband? I don't know. I'm wondering how accurate this is. Are they husband and husband? Okay, perhaps, I suppose as confusing as it is, and it is somewhat confusing, that it's a accurate portrayal of their relationship.

But, in broadcast media, and newspapers in the Bay Area someone is termed a "she" if they want to live as a woman. I strongly object to the arbitrariness of this. In a recent TV news story, an individual who was transgender, not physically, but emotionally, was called a she though she was born a he. Now, if this person lived as a woman all the time, and was known as a woman to all but a select few, I have no desire that this person should be "outed" for the benefit of our prurient interests. In this case though, this she/he or he/she was acting as an advocate for transgender persons. In other words, precisely because this person was a he acting like a she, we are expected to call him a she. Confusing? I think it is.
What if this person wanted to be an dog. Do we accord them the benefit of being called a "bitch?" I'm not trying to be funny. Really. But I don't think one can just choose what to call their sex based upon their desires. I don't deny that there are gender confusion issues in humankind. I feel compassion for persons who want to live as a sex they are not. I'm not trying to say I feel sorry for them or that they are abnormal. Jeez, see the problem? When an advocate for transgender issues, who was born a male, and who would like to be a woman (without benefit of a procedure which would accomplish that) I still see that person as a male. Sorry. I don't think an individual gets to make that call. And the media is just adding to the confusion deciding who is what because of the subject's desires.
Perhaps this has nothing to do with it, but certain individuals in the world have problems accepting that their arms and legs actually belong to them. These individuals have been known to remove healthy limbs because they just don't feel right. This is tragic. No surgeon will remove their limbs, so they resort to self-help. Are we to call one of these pre-surgical persons an amputee because they wish they were?

I know, a lot of you probably think I should stick to writing about dogs. So here goes.

Missy, a pre-surgical dog-to-cat trans-species wants to be called a cat. The dog, I mean the cat, I mean the cat/dog, once known as Rover lives as a cat in a converted dog house that has been turned into a cat house. Help!

Thanks for the photo Flickr and NumeralSix.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Animal Adoption Stamps-- Why Dogs Hate the Mailman. Why I hate the Post Office.

The U.S. Postal Service doesn't get much right, but the Animal Rescue Adoption stamps are great. Anything that gets the message out about pet adoption is a good thing.
Okay, why am I so critical of the Postal Service?
 I have been employed by them for 33 1/2 years. I am still employed by them, though they will not let me work. I have an artificial disk in my back. They broke me. Now they have told me to go out and get another job. I have an industrial injury. Can't sit too long, can't stand too long. Goodbye, it's been fun.
There is no other government organization less equipped for the 20th century than the Postal Service. Yes, I meant 20th century. Certainly they are not even close to being a 21st century organization. Management is lost. Service is going downhill. I hate what they have become and in general, I don't brag about how I spent my career.

Which brings us to why dogs hate the mailman.
Here's my theory. Actually someone else first mentioned it, but I'm taking credit for the refinement of it. Your mailman comes to your house each day. Your dog barks, acts up, and generally makes a nuisance of himself. The mailman goes away. Your dog thinks he's done a good job. He barked. The threat was removed.
The next day the same thing happens. It's positive reinforcement. Bark-- postman leaves. Job well done. Also how dare that idiot mailman come around after I ran him off the first time. It's a never-ending cycle.

But please. Give your mailman a break. Don't let your dog out on him or her. He has but a split-second to decide if your dog really means him harm or not. It's a panic when that dog comes charging out the door or from the backyard. Then you come out and say, "My dog doesn't bite."
A customer actually told that to my wife after the dog had bit the end of her finger and she was bleeding. If the dog eats, he can bite. Even if your dog doesn't bite supposedly, imagine being in the same situation.
I was laying on the ground one day with a Mastiff mix literally in my face. I fell trying to back away from the animal. My left hip has never been right again. Let your postman or woman do the job. There are thousands of on-the-job dog bites yearly within the Postal Service. Protect your mailman. Protect yourself. Protect your dog. The legal system doesn't take kindly to dog bite cases these days.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Baja S.A.F.E. Expansion of site.

Baja S.A.F.E. is the brainchild of Isabelle Ann Tiberghien. In San Jose de Cabo, Mexico, Isabelle is fighting to save dogs from the ravages of sickness, over-breeding, and often the utter lack of concern for many dogs. She is taking the sick dogs off the streets and trying to educate the populace as to their care. Make no mistake about it, it is a tough job to run a rescue operation in an area that historically does not spay or neuter the pets, and is in the throes of an even deeper recession than the rest of North America.
For three years, Isabelle has been operating Baja SAFE. Dogs there are often ignored and expected to fend for themselves. Perhaps the alternative is worse.
There are puppy mills in operation but the dogs are not vaccinated. Diseases go untreated. Baja SAFE rescues as many dogs as possible, but some are too sick or wounded to save. It's heartbreaking.
But there is hope as long as Isabelle and the other volunteers are around. Many dogs that are rescued are recovering and being adopted out, not only in Baja, but in the States. It's a great project that deserves our support.
Baja SAFE has a Facebook page with many photos and more info. Check them out.


The website or is expanding. Slowly but surely I am going to provide more content to reward your attention. Thanks for sticking it out all these months with me. We're growing, albeit, slower than I would like, but we are growing. Your support means a lot.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Tiger Woods and Lady Gaga? Wesley Snipes? Why This Blog? Double Rainbow.

The news is that I have no news about Lady Gaga and Tiger Woods. No hilarious video of Double Rainbows or even Wesley Snipes. So why this blog? You may ask, why do I continue to torture both you and myself with these self-indulgent rantings. Here was the original idea.
I had a picture of my dog in space. It is framed and well-loved. Lulu, my dog, on the moon. Somehow I deluded myself into thinking that I could base a website upon the idea that people would flock to me just because I would run pictures of dogs in weird or historical situations, all photo-shopped of course.
My mind worked thusly (I read a lot of Winston Churchill and he says things like that):
Ah, people will flock to me because I am so clever. They will not be able to resist sending in photos of their animals, in weird situations, like in space. Then with the millions, no perhaps billions I will earn from this pursuit, I will run for governor of California. I will look like Ben Franklin but talk like Arnold. Cal-e-for-nee-ah.

Well apparently people have better things to do than waste their time photo-shopping their dogs into weird situations. But I don't!
Unfortunately I have joined the ranks of the great unwashed mass of the unemployed. Oh, it's a long story, and I am in a far better situation than many Americans who are not working. I have an income.
I awake, drink coffee and fart around on the computer for awhile. I write my blog. Then I water my garden and putter as my wife calls it outside. I may walk my dog, or not. I read-- a lot. Sometimes, rarely, I write on my novel.
My wife tells me that I have this gift of time and I am wasting it. Guilty.
I know I suffer depression. I am often tired. I nap a lot. What is wrong with me? If only you would all see my brilliance, I would be a worthwhile person. Artistic success allows one tons of eccentricities.
Well, some of you have responded to the call of this blog. I'm working on it. That can be said of me. I am working on it.
I've decided to take a class in the fall, anthropology I think I have decided. I try.
Stay with me all. I am working on it. I try to be a good person. I don't know what will go on my tombstone. Probably nothing very exciting.
"He slept a lot."
"I'd rather be in Petaluma."
"God save the Queen."
Here's what I do know. About Winston Churchill. I have read his massive volumes (4?) on WWII. I am currently reading his history of the English-speaking world. I have read Gilbert's books on both WWII and WWI. I read "Catcher in the Rye" twice and also Tolkein's books twice. I have read all of Doyle's Sherlock Holmes' stories. I have written two bad books.
Ah, here's some good stuff. I wrote hundreds of newspaper and magazine articles. I have written a lot of short stories, published some, and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. That's an award for excellence in fiction published by small presses. No, I was just nominated.
I'm good at Jeopardy but can't pass the online test.
I probably am much more honest than you might think. But less than I should be.
I feel old.
I think I look like Fire Marshall Bill from In Living Color. Kids wear your sunscreen.
I desperately need praise. That is my downfall.
I want to be considered a good person. Perhaps that much I have achieved, the consideration, but I have failed in the execution. I have squandered my chances. There you have it. Why I write. Why dogs bite.
You know, if I were younger I could be like that guy on TV who does the Slapshot chopper commercial. Zucchini, bikini, bandini.
That's what shall go on my tombstone. "He could've been in a slapshot commercial." God help me and be kind.Oh, well, if I am ever at a loss for words, there is always Sarah Palin to rely upon. Thanks Sarah, as long as you are around I will always have something to write about.
My life is complete.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Napoleon Dynamite's Favorite Dog. Michael Jackson. Mel Gibson. Send more.

The Lemon-lu
In the movie, "Napoleon Dynamite" his favorite animal is a liger. That's a cross of a lion and a tiger of course. Recently I saw a picture of a dog for adoption called a Labrabull. Or was it a Labrapit or a Bulllab?
Of course we have Pekeapoos. Labrapoodles. There's more of course I can't think of right off the bat.

I'm gonna create some new breeds. How bout a chi-poo? A cross between a chihuahua and a poodle. Or a poo-pit? A Greybull. A Labrahound. Why not a Chi-pit or a Bullhuahua? A Labratiff? A Shep-hound? A Shepoo. A Dalmahuahua? Hold you tongue and say that.

Not that this has anything to do with anything else here, but I am sorta surprised that Hyenas are not of the Canine family. If only. Hyenapoos. Chihuaenas. Hyenapits. Labraenas.

Forgive my self-indulgent rantings of yesterday. I admit, I suffer from bouts of depression. Yesterday was bad. This forum allows me to vent and feel sorry for myself. I even imagine someone will read my posts now and again. There I go again. Poor me. Pobracito. Forgive my spelling my Spanish friends. Now this post is bilingual. I am speaking Spanglish.

Which brings me to the Michael Jackson part of my post. I figure Michael Jackson should bring at least one person onto the site. What if we could've crossed Michael Jackson with a Chihuahua? A Michaelhua. How bout crossing Michael Jackson with Mel Gibson? A Michaelgib. That's a racist who hates himself? I don't know. Now I'm really ranting.

Thanks to my fabulous granddaughter Anika McGuire for her picture of my dog Lulu posted here. That's my Lemonlu.

I decided just now that I need a sign off phrase. Like Peace Out. Or It's a Double-Rainbow Day. Crackies. Someone call the guys in the white coats.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

ARE DOGS PSYCHIC? The D- word. Does God want us to learn?

How does my dog know she is going for a walk? We put on our shoes, something we do quite often. We don't say we're going so she can hear, yet she knows. Dogs are quite intuitive.
Same with a bath. My dog hates baths. As soon as we prepare to give her one, she heads the other direction.

Do you have instances of dog ESP? If you do, tell me here.

I apologize to both BAJA SAFE and the Clyde Savage Project for not writing my post about them sooner. I will get to that when I can. This blog takes some modicum of thought. I suffer from bouts of ennui. No, I am not working at the present time. It seems as if I could spend all the time in the world finishing my novel, writing the short story I promised here, curing cancer...

I admit to extreme sloth. Precisely because I am so unproductive, I remain unproductive. Call this a confession. It drives my dear wife crazy. I will not mention the D word. No one wants to hear. Nonetheless my value to myself and others suffers. I am considering taking a class or two, perhaps working toward a degree. Maybe I will finish my novel. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I try, then I don't.

This is the bane of my condition.

I wish I were a better person. Perhaps if I were to preach to the birds.

Which brings me to my last point. Does God want us to learn? Let us first go on the assumption that there is a God. Yes, I know what this sounds like, but it is sorta my point. Is there a God? Do we really want to know? Oh, I know I am rambling.

Here's the thing. I read a lot. A lot of history. Perhaps I should just read a Bible or the Koran or some other religious text. I question. I doubt. Is just knowing enough? If I could qualify as a scholar, my problems would be solved. An academic. I know everything about something. If I could say that and turn such knowledge into productivity I would be set.

Unfortunately I qualify for a Cliff Claven from Cheers fame degree. A know-it-all who knows nothing about anything anyone cares to hear. Oh, not that it is useless knowledge I have. But to what purpose? I try to qualify for Jeopardy, but can't pass the online test. That's my main skill. I have a wealth of useless knowledge. When I pass perhaps my tombstone will say "He should've been on Jeopardy."

All this hurts.

Monday, July 12, 2010


Jessie Jackson has called Mel Gibson's racial slurs "reprehensible and irresponsible."
"He wouldn't have said these things had his ex-girlfriend been a white person."
When Jackson was told Gibson's ex was a Russian woman from the Ukraine, he responded, "See, I told you so. I heard she had big old fake boobies."

In related news, when told Gibson had referred to Chihuahua dogs as "wetback" dogs, Jackson said, "I thought they were 'Hymie' dogs." After learning that the dogs were native to Mexico, Jackson said Chihuahua sounded a lot like Hanukkah. "I sense a conspiracy," he said.

Gibson has been accused of physical assault on Oksana Grigorieva, the mother of one of his children. According to Grigorieva, Gibson on several occasions been violent with her and even knocked out two of her teeth.

Gibson has responded to the allegation by saying that they were only "baby teeth."

Recently the motion picture megastar has been seen running on the beach in Malibu wearing a kilt and shouting "Freedom!"
When asked if he ever called Chihuahua dogs "wetback" dogs, Gibson said, "Not this f---ing Jewish thing again! That's the way it happened okay. God told me so."
The fallout from Gibson's statements are expected to end his career in motion pictures, though sources say Gibson is working on a remake of the classic DeMille film "Birth of a Nation."

When reporters asked Jessie Jackson if he thought the comments would adversely affect Gibson's career, he said, "They wouldn't have treated him that way if he'd been a white man."
One reporter said that Mel Gibson originally came from Australia.
"See, I told you so," said Jackson.

Photo courtesy of Orrin and Flickr.


A recording of a phone call is making the circuit in which Mel Gibson verbally abuses his dog.
"You have those fake teats and you are going around mating with all the male dogs in town," Gibson reportedly says in a phone call to his ex-pet.
Gibson could not be reached for a comment, and his publicist will not admit or deny that it is Gibson voice on a phone call to the animal.
In the call, a male voice that sounds like Gibson says, "You are just a bitch in heat. The way you chase around the neighborhood, it'll be your own fault if a bunch of pit bulls get ahold of you."
Gibson was recently accused of kicking his dog during an argument. It's also been reported that Gibson once had a career in motion pictures.

Since the news of his animal cruelty surfaced, friends say Gibson is back in Austrailia, running around in a kilt, painting his face, and repeating lines from the film "Sunset Boulevard."
"It's business as usual for Mel," says an unnamed source. "These unfounded rumors don't affect him in the least."

In related news, there is apparently no truth to the rumor that Nicole Kidman wants to renounce her Austrailian citizenship.

Photo by Flickr, courtesy of Orrin.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Two Dogs Attack Passersby in Golden Gate Park

The other day, in broad daylight, two pit-bull mix dogs attacked several passersby in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. Police suspect that the dogs belonged to homeless people who live in the park. One of the dogs was shot in an effort to subdue it. No one has come forward to claim the dogs, and it is likely that both will be destroyed.

How is it that we have come to this? I have seen homeless people sleeping in the walkways of Golden Gate Park. It is supposedly illegal to do so, but nonetheless, it happens. It is not a safe environment for humans or dogs to sleep in the park. Drug use is rampant. (By the way, tobacco smoking is illegal in Golden Gate Park. It is assumed that shooting hard drugs is not.)

I am not unsympathetic to the plight of the homeless. My wife suggests that they may keep the dogs in order to protect themselves. San Francisco has this odd attitude toward the problem. There has been homeless encampments, tent cities in view of city hall. The mayor, Gavin Newsome, who is running for Lt. Governor, seems at a loss on how to deal with the problem. To be fair, his predecessors hadn't an answer for the problem either. But living in the park is not a solution.

When I was younger, and I lived in San Francisco, I used to walk or jog across the park at night in order to get home. We had several buses and streetcars that served the area around the park. Late at night one bus ran on one side of the park, and the streetcar ran on my side. If I tired of waiting for the streetcar, I might take the bus, and just walk across the park to my side and home. Now daylight use of Golden Gate Park can be dicey. How is that serving the people of San Francisco or the homeless?
Have we given up?

Some years back, San Francisco bragged about their new public toilets in the style of Paris. There was serious discussion about giving free passes to the homeless to use these toilets. So far so good right? We don't want the homeless defecating and urinating in the streets. But also the City of St. Francis was taking into account the use of those toilet facilities for shooting hard drugs. Another San Francisco debate centered around "drug zones" where shooting up would be tolerated. The rationale was that it would be easier to provide clean needles in such zones. Heaven help us.

Many of you know I am concerned about the adoption of "homeless" pets. I am not without empathy for my fellow humans. But the so-called enlightened attitudes toward homelessness serves no one. Not the homeless, nor their dogs, nor the public. Homeless encampments solve nothing. Sleeping in the park endangers the general public and the homeless. It is much easier for city managers to wash their hands of the homeless by pretending to care with an attitude of excessive toleration. Perhaps the word offends us. Toleration. But the attitude serves no one.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Lindsay Lohan's Dog Jailed. R-T U Painted on Nails.

After Lindsay Lohan was sentenced to jail yesterday, her dog, Screwthejudge was sentenced to 90 days in the hoosegow for drinking from the toilet and barking incessantly. Lohan's bitch had RUT U painted on her nails.
"It's not fair," said Screwthejudge. "That other bitch doesn't get sent immediately to pound, how come I do? I want to go back to rehab."
Lohan has been the subject of countless stories in the media for her bizarre and self-destructive behavior. Lohan's dog has often been seen intoxicated on toilet water.
The judge who sentenced Screwthejudge to the pound was unavailable for comment. Lindsay Lohan had this to say, "x^%%$***@&!"
Screwthejudge's lawyer, J. Cheever Loophole says he will appeal the sentence.

Photo by Flickr-- Joe Focus.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

My Favorite Dog in Literature. Colin.

"So I resolved to acquire a dog, and bought one from a

prospector, who was stony-broke and would have sold his soul

for a drink. It was an enormous Boer hunting-dog, a mongrel

in whose blood ran mastiff and bulldog and foxhound, and

Heaven knows what beside. In colour it was a kind of brindled

red, and the hair on its back grew against the lie of the rest of

its coat. Some one had told me, or I may have read it, that a

back like this meant that a dog would face anything mortal,

even to a charging lion, and it was this feature which first

caught my fancy. The price I paid was ten shillings and a pair

of boots, which I got at cost price from stock, and the owner

departed with injunctions to me to beware of the brute's

temper. Colin - for so I named him - began his career with

me by taking the seat out of my breeches and frightening Mr

Wardlaw into a tree. "

From John Buchan's Prester John.

While Enzo, from The Art of Racing in the Rain may be the funniest canine anyone has ever written about, it is difficult to give him my nod as my favorite dog to grace the pages of a book. It is a close race for number one with me. Racing in the Rain is the best darn dog book going, but since Enzo can relate his feelings to us, I am going to give Colin from John Buchan's Prester John the nod as my favorite "real" dog in literature.

Prester John is not a dog book, but an adventure story by the author of The 39 Steps. If you haven't read Buchan, you're in for a treat. His books give a wonderful view of the British stiff-upper-lip society around the time of The Great War. No, it is not high literature Buchan writes I suppose. But it is fine example of the adventure genre of the period. The writing is somewhere between Joseph Conrad and H. Rider Haggard. Not quite literature but not pulp either.

Prester John is the story of a young man's journey to Blaawildebeestefontein in the Transvaal in South Africa. I will warn the reader that it contains some racial terms many might consider offensive, language similar to Heart of Darkness. This should not stop anyone from reading Buchan though, any more than one should not read Conrad.

Colin is all dog. Mean, nasty and unrepentantly so. Yet he is loyal to a fault. In general I do not find the idea of a vicious dog appealing, yet Colin so fits his environment that his appeal for me is irresistible.

"Wherever I went - on the road, on the meadows of

the plateau, or on the rugged sides of the Berg - it was the

same. I had silent followers, who betrayed themselves now and

then by the crackling of a branch, and eyes were always looking

at me which I could not see. Only when I went down to the

plains did the espionage cease. This thing annoyed Colin

desperately, and his walks abroad were one continuous growl.

Once, in spite of my efforts, he dashed into the thicket, and a

squeal of pain followed. He had got somebody by the leg, and

there was blood on the grass."

From Prester John.

Buchan's books are worth a read.

Monday, July 5, 2010

RUNAWAYS! Have a runaway dog story? Tell it here.

One July 4th, my dogs ran away because of fear of fireworks. Maurice and Pearl. The name Maurice came from a Steve Miller song "Enter Maurice" (or something like that) and Pearl was named for Janis Joplin. They took off, the two of them, and decided to wander the neighborhood. I found them about a mile away, wandering in a field.

Maurice was a dog who liked to wander. His last conscious act was to amble to the end of the driveway in an effort to stroll the neighborhood, then-- he died. I swear. I love him even more for final act of rebellion.
But Maurice came back without much trouble when you found him, not like a Scottie I had who enjoyed the game of catch me, the little s.o.b.

Actually, I worked the night shift at that time in July my two dogs ran off. I don't know if my wife called me at the office to tell me the dogs had run, or if I knew before I left for work. Anyway, I just happened to ask a supervisor if he'd seen any dogs on his way to work, and he said he had seen two in a field, and I went and picked them up. They were unrepentant.

A local story on the news today told of a police dog who jumped a fence and ran off because of fireworks. I don't guess that dog was from Oakland or he would've been used to the sound of gunshots.

My daughter and her husband's dog is a wanderer. He jumps-- no climbs their fence and goes to the bar about 50 yards away. The bar has my daughter's number, they call, as if Xena the dog were a husband who drank too much and needed to be picked up. This is a true story.

Xena also climbs trees. Go figure.

I used to drive a cab in San Diego as a college student. One night I picked up a passenger in front of a bar. If I remember, someone helped him into the backseat where he collapsed into a near-unconscious heap. I asked him where he wanted to go. He blubbered that he didn't know his address.
I called my dispatcher.
The call went something like this: "I got this guy in my cab who is drunk and doesn't know where he lives."
"Where'd you pick him up 818?" (my cab number)
"At the Dew-Drop Inn."
"That's Joe," the dispatcher said, and he gave me an address.

It's kinda pitiful when a human is reduced to the equivalent of a dog in the art of communication. I guess the drunk should have been wearing tags. Remember this the next time you decide to party 'til you puke.

My current dog, Lulu was a runaway. Her name was Marian then. She took off, was gone a week, and though the shelter found her owners, they decided they didn't want her anymore. Lulu was five-months old at the time, covered in fleas. When my wife, daughter and I went to the shelter looking to adopt a dog, Lulu almost didn't go home with us.

Lulu was scared to death of humans. She wanted nothing to do with me, and barely allowed my wife and daughter a chance to touch her. I don't know how we decided on her. She was skinny, scared, and had obviously been mistreated.
She's a very pretty dog, about 40 pounds or so. It took her a long time to get over her fear of men. She still is a little shy of them, and newcomers altogether. But she's turned out to be a great dog. Very loyal and eager to please us. Now I am her alpha-male. Oh, well, at least someone thinks of me in that way.

One day, when my kids were younger, we had a runaway goats in our front yard, but that's another story.

You got a runaway dog story? Tell it here. Leave it in the comment box so everyone can read it. I love comments.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Super-Size Neuticle. Why Go Small? Designer Dog Balls.

Heard Neuticles, the testicle replacement for dogs has now gone super-size and designer. It could cause problems I suppose.
Have a Happy Fourth everyone. I hope to have a post-July 4th story for you early next week.