Tag Dogs

You can’t keep a good Jingle down

Michael 12 Comments

Why is it some days I can think of nothing to write and others, there is a surplus of ideas that I could pick from. I usually keep the serious stuff for the ROAMcare site which means most of the time this site is left with the breezy, often trivial, rambling essays that makes little sense outside the confines of my mind.

This week though, this week is serious stuff.

Last week, actually the last couple of weeks I’ve been more than a little distracted. The daughter’s doggie Jingle, who might as well be part mine they live so close and he’s here so often, is facing his mortality. He is suffering from an osteosarcoma in his front left what would be a shoulder if he was a human. (Scapula in dogs? Maybe it is a shoulder too.) After a couple of weeks of tests and scans, his only hope of fighting his fight is to have the leg and shoulder amputated which is scheduled for tomorrow (Tuesday) morning. That’s assuming the one final scan he has before the surgery does not reveal any metastases to the chest or lungs. If he has the surgery, a final biopsy will determine if he would benefit at all from chemo also.

I just spoke of Jingle in The Search for Bigfoot when I described him as “fairly normal-sized for a dog of indeterminate origin. He’s part pointer, part husky, and looks those parts. But he has feet the size of an ottoman, which has always led me to describe him as a yointer. Part pointer, part Yeti. It seems that could be accurate – technical differences between Himalayan abominable snowmen and hairy North American cryptids notwithstanding.”

For the last 2 or 3 weeks, the little fella hasn’t been able to use that leg, either because of the pain when he puts it down or the inability to move it from the nerve compressed by the tumor, so he’s already been getting his practice hopping on three legs and still does a mile walk every morning (down from his usual 2-2&1/2 miles), and he still eats and plays, and still demands scratches and treats. As the daughter says, “He’s still jingly.”

Providence smiled on us when last Friday we celebrated the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, he who is invoked at the annual blessings of pets at many churches around the world and which ours held just yesterday. It was the reminder that a medal of that very saint hangs on Jingle’s collar and that dogs too need prayers.

If you are of a mind to, perhaps you’d mention Jingle in your prayers tonight.

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End of Summer Spring Cleaning

Michael 11 Comments

Perhaps it’s because it is the end of summer and I am naturally doing some brain cleaning (I always empty my brain as the seasons change) (don’t you) but even though I recently de-cluttered, I still have more random thoughts I need to clear out. Maybe even more randomer than usual.

Last week was a busy few days for my mail carrier. Every day (Sunday and holiday excluded) he brought me nearly a handful of solicitations for credit cards and personal loans. Here’s what I think happened. The week before I had made a fairly large purchase and was offered a same as cash for a year deal if I opened an account with that store. I could have paid cash but I more likely would have used a credit card and stretched it out over a few months anyway, so why not use their money and save the interest. Now I think that turned on some switch and all the algorithms got together and said “Hey! We got a live one over here! Let’s get him now while he’s in a spending mood!” For as much as I detest spam email and unwanted phone solicitations, regular old junk mail doesn’t bother me. For one thing, it gives the post office some income, and I’m going to recycle it so it’s not like that paper is wasted. But what is annoying me are all the envelops that come with the little windows and you can see “to the order of” and then your name through them, yet when you open it and unfold the letter it tells you “This is NOT a check.” Well then, stop telling it to do something to my order, like I don’t know, maybe pay. Sounds like a clear-cut case of liar, liar pants on fire to me!

This reminds me of something you may not know about your letter carrier. The National Association of Letter Carriers sponsors a program to keep an eye on older Americans through the USPS Carrier Alert Program. The carrier places a placard in the mailbox to alert all carriers to watch for signs of distress such as accumulating mail. If they notice anything unusual they will try to connect with the resident or notify local social service agencies of their concern. Interested parties can inquire if the program is available in their area by asking at or calling the local post office.

Did you see in the news last week that Nany Pelosi is planning on running for office again. She’s 84! Did you see in the news last week that Mitch McConnel hosted another episode of the Twilight Zone. He’s 81. Let’s not even talk about the guys who want to be President. Don’t these people ever retire. Have they no hobbies to occupy their remaining minds, no friends to meet at McDonalds for coffee? And it’s not just the politicians. Harrison Form is out exploring at 81! Eric Clapton just began a new world tour at 78! The Rolling Stones just released a new studio album. The band is 61 years old. Mick Jagger started with the band when he was 19 and he is still performing. I’ll do the math for you. (Hmm, I have a calculator somewhere nearby.) Let’s see… 61+19 = EIGHTY FREAKING YEARS OLD! Maybe he’d like to run for Senate over here. We could use some young blood. I’m 67 and I’ve been retired for 5 years. Sort of. I admit I still work a day or two a week, but my pension is being handled by the firm of Dewey, Cheatham & Howe and to be honest, I like eating. I’ll like eating at 81 too. But I’ll want a few days off to enjoy dinner for gosh sakes!

Speaking of old people, I saw an article from NBC News stating seniors were the victims of internet scams in 2022 to the tune of $3.1 billion dollars. That’s almost the net worth of the average US Senator. Somebody please tell me the collective members of both houses of Congress are actually doing something besides trying to get re-elected. Yeah. I didn’t think so either.

My daughter has a dog. He’s a cute dog. Around here people are so used to seeing him that not many IMG_7850people make a fuss over him. He was recently on vacation (just him, but the humans went along to carry his food and toys), and when they returned she told me everybody was fussing over him and he just ate up all the extra attention. He’s cute and all that, but to be the center of attention for a week in places where people generally went to soak up sights, see magnificent architecture, swim in the ocean – that’s where he was high point of perfect strangers’ days. And I get it. It’s his coloring. If you put a gold car in the middle of a show room of black and gray cars, they could be BMWs and Mercedes and people will still be drawn to the different one, the gold one, even if it is a 40 year old Pinto.

Okay, my brain feels lighter now. Thank you for your help!

There is no reason the world must be black or white. We come up with some good reasons to embrace the many shades of gray in life and take the first step in creating a more colorful world in the most recent Uplift! Take a look!!

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Do it for the dog

Michael 12 Comments

This weekend I got to do something I haven’t done for probably close to 20 years. Stay alone – overnight – away from home – with a dog! [woof]

Throughout my adult life, there had always been some sort of animal living with us. (Considering some family members you could say that has been true for my entire life, but that’s a different post for a different day.) When the last dog who had my name on her license as owner went to that big off leash park in the sky, I was already battling Wegener’s and was having difficulty keeping a strong hand on the care part of the care and feeding of pets. I knew my limits, and pet owner was not within them.

Not so though for my daughter who continued the tradition and is and has been for many years the proud dog mom of a now maybe 6 or 7 year old pointer/husky/yeti. There have been times that I have been called upon to provide doggie day care services and have successfully and enjoyably fulfilled those duties, not to mention the meeting the daily expectations of proud grandpop to the grandpup. But when the daughter needs dog sitting of the extended overnight sort, I am not the one called into service. Not that I wouldn’t, I just couldn’t. Let’s say if I were to take the dog for his evening or morning stroll, and upon spotting a follow member of the canine community, or one of the more feisty neighborhood rabbits, and he so decided to pursue fellow canine or feisty rabbit, he would never be accused of being in violation of the leash laws, being firmly attached to a strong, appropriate length lead. It would nevertheless be a questionable defense as it would be very unlikely that the other end would still be firmly attached to my right hand.

Thus, when the daughter anticipates overnight travel (that doesn’t involve an airplane (he doesn’t do well much higher than ground level)) she considers pet friendly destinations or arranges alternate billeting for the pupster. For this occasion she was unable to secure either and I was called and asked if I felt up to just one night with the little fellow. “Of course I can” I replied and oh so nearly convincingly told myself I could do it. Given that she has a fenced in backyard and I don’t, and that the dog, although getting older by the day, still thinks of himself as young and energetic, it was decided I would visit him rather than he stay with me.

And that is how I found myself, Saturday morning, packing an overnight bag including laptop (with drafts for 2 articles and a speech all due within the next month) and heading out the door for the quarter mile walk to the daughter’s domicile. And straight into a pouring rain. A veritable downpour. A like “pair up the animals and ready the Ark” type rain. Concern for the environment be dammed, I headed straight up the driveway and plopped myself behind the wheel of my car for the short but soggy trip, and even that seemed not quite up to the challenge but I don’t own a boat. I felt right then that the next 36 hour period was going to be a mismatch. Unfortunately, when I could be accused of either hyperbole or understatement, I tend toward understating.

To make a long story short (I know, too late), he enjoyed our time together immensely! He was at his tail waggingest, face lickingest, muddy pawed jumpingest best behavior, which for him, are all the things that exhibit good behavior. He never tried to take advantage of an unsuspecting keeper and ate very little of my meals off my plate when his bowl was filled with yummy kibble (and only when I wasn’t watching), did not hide the television remote too well among his toys, and let me have the pillow in bed Saturday night which was only fair since he was using my legs as his. All in all he seemed to have enjoyed my company.

Me? Well I did get to unpack my laptop though never actually opened it, only had to go outside once to forcibly drag him back inside when he refused to come in after treeing some unsuspecting woodland creature, and discovered the desktop cup warmer I got my daughter as part of her Christmas stocking last year works really well. I guess you could say I seemed to have enjoyed his company too!

Well, that dog story was a good story of perseverance. Sort of. Here’s a better one in the most recent Uplift! We know we can do it, whatever the “it” may be, but someone else feels we can’t, but we will try anyway. Because the realty is we believe in ourselves. And reality is more important than feelings. Approximate reading time – 3 minutes

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Halt! Who Goes There?

Michael Leave a comment

I had all sorts of stuff I was going to ramble on about but I lost my complete train of thought when it was pointed out to me on last week’s post that the moon landing was JULY 20, not JUNE 20. I am so mortified. I can only imagine what you think of me. Alternately I can only imagine that nobody actually reads this drivel. Either way, it’s no wonder why I never saw anything celebrating its anniversary and I’m very sorry for misleading everybody.

Now on to today’s drivel. I know it had something to do with standing in doorways. I remember that much because I have a constant reminder of blocked doorways. You see, I’m not home right now. I was discharged from the hospital 2 weeks ago but I’ve been staying with my daughter at her house until I am strong enough to be back on my own. I’m getting there but every couple days when I think I’m making progress I have dialysis which beats me up like a nogoodnik beats on a shamus in a classic film noir. Sorry, I digress. As I was saying, there is a constant reminder there of blocked doorways and it goes by the name of Jingle, a part pointer, part husky, part bull dog, part Yeti 3 year old rescue who is convinced he is a 3 year old human. Except…

Except a three year old human you can deal with when every time you enter a room he bounds around you and stands in the doorway looking up at you mentally asking if this was the room want to go to, is it, huh, huh, is it. A three year old dog, who really should know better, not so much. A three year old human can be reasoned with, and barring reasoning he can be lifted and moved out of the way. A three year old multi-mix, especially one exceeding your lifting limit sevenfold, not so much. A three year human someday will grow into a four year human and then five and so on and so on and if today you don’t get your point across eventually he will understand probably when he is the one tripping over an impediment to room entry. A three year old canine living statue, who will only grow into a four year old living statue and then five and then so on and so on, not so much.

So I have this reminder it I’m not sure what the big story behind it is. I’m sure it was quite profound and may even change your outlook on the world around you. If I should remember I’ll jot it down somewhere and write a proper post about it. But not on July 20. That date is taken.

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Jingle and Penguin

Mutts That Matter

Michael Leave a comment

Were you one of the 17 bazillion people who watched the Westminster Kennel Club dog show on television this week?  We haven’t seen the actual ratings figures but it seems that at least everybody in the United States watched it.  At the very least, everybody either of us has spoken with over the past couple of days had watched it.  Why not?  Dogs are cute.  Two nights of dogs strutting their way around Madison Square Garden in the doggie version of Project Runway is indeed must see TV. 

While glued to the set for those two nights we learned a lot.  The Labrador Retriever, even though geographically challenged and originated in Newfoundland rather than Labrador, is the most popular AKC breed in the United States.  There are about 11,000 Labs registered here.  Very impressive numbers.  But the large breed was not wearing the blue ribbon when the show was over.  That went to the diminutive Affenpinscher, the breed’s first win at Westminster, beating out 2,500 entries.

There is a local animal shelter just about a mile away from He of We.  We have stopped by often to drop off a donation, ogle at the pets, or adopt a dog.  That particular shelter has adopted out over 2,500 animals last year, more than were entered the Westminster show.  About half were dogs.  That’s just one shelter.  If 11,000 registered Labs makes that breed the number one breed in the country, think of how many of America’s really most favorite dog, the Shelter Pup, there are out there.  We think they deserve a show also.

It would be a bit different from the AKC sanctioned events.  Since 80% of the dogs adopted from shelters are mixed breeds you couldn’t have standards and conformity judged.  But you could judge fun, energy, intelligence, and affection. Picture this, a round of pound puppies march around Madison Square Garden and The Cutest into the finals.  Another round of scraggly scruffies now takes center stage and The Ugliest is selected.  Other rounds pick out the Hairiest, the Baldest, the Best Trick, the Longest Nap, and the Best Dog Kisser.  Each of these seven “Group Winners” now moves on to the Best We Know final round!

Here audience participation is not only encouraged, it’s mandatory!  The crowd cheers as each group winner marches around the stage,  past the TV cameras that flash the four leggers strutting their stuff onto the Jumbotrons  And out of these, the one with the loudest crowd approval wins the coveted Blue Ribbon, a lifetime supply of Milk Bones, and the title of Mutts That Matter, the Best We Know. 

Now that’s puppy love!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?