Monthly Archive: January 2008

Eve of DOCOH Trial

Today is the eve of Baby’s obedience trial, aka Dog Obedience of Hollywood’s AKC obedience trial.  So what I did at lunch “to her” I am sure she is going to be holding against me and taking revenge at the most inappropriate time or times this weekend. I gave her a bath.  Not only that, but I put her on a leash and collar and tied her to the fence with just a towel to lie on, in the sun to stop her from going in the dirt for a gusto roll. This all took place within 15 minutes, maybe 20, and “we” were not pleased.  I have the picture to prove it. 

Baby’s Bath 

It wasn’t an easy day this Dog Trial Eve.  Morning was the usual wake up and run around like a mad dog to get everyone pooped, peed, fed and cleaned up after.  I try to keep right behind the poops being we have several poop eaters here at Fort Doberdale.  Dare I name them?  Oliver, Ginger, Lilian, Leissl, and Luna is on the cusp.  Dobermann have a propensity towards this nasty habit, so it is my duty to do as much in the way of beating them to these golden brown or just plain ol’ brown nuggets.  This game I played while fixing the Posse’s crock pot this morning with chicken, potatoes, carrots and spices, making Ginger’s special immune-boosting concoction, pulling out laundry to do at lunch and realizing Luigi was down to his last two meals and making note to start the little crock pot for him at lunch as well.   

Lunch?  That involved delivering the six boxes of newspapers I collected off of six floors of high rise that save them up weekly for me.  The papers go to our local wildlife center, which takes in small pets such as rabbits, gerbils, rodents, reptiles, birds, whatever, that’s not a dog or cat.  After delivering those goodies, I scram to get gas, go home, let everyone out, while I fix Luigi’s crock pot, start a load of laundry, give Baby her bath, find an ex-pen to take for tomorrow, pull the trash out for trash day tomorrow, pick up more poop, hose off more pee, make a sandwich, cup of tea, eat, drink and be merrily on my way back to work, where I find out one side of my pants on the pocket has a wet spot the size of Baby’s entire head.  Ewwkay.  And she has the nerve to be holding a grudge?   

At work, a supervisor asked me about a package I’d sent for him on Wednesday.  It was slated for overnight, and it took two days for delivery through Fedex.  Everyone likes to use Fedex because it’s supposed to be so darn dependable, and it’s more expensive than the alternatives, but I haven’t found a difference.  Back at the ranch, I explained to said supervisor that I did not set delivery up for two-day and showed him the proof.  I explained to him about Mercury in retrograde and his eyes glazed over, so I left. 

An hour, maybe two, later a co-worker asked me to follow her and showed me how one of our doors on the floor opens without the use of our security badge.  This is bad.  Employee offices and spaces have been burgled when the doors were working.  So I called the head of facilities, and left her a voicemail.  Then I called the head of facilities secretary, and he said there are several doors on several floors that suddenly had this phenomenon happen – doors opening for people without badges – and they were on it.  I asked when this started and was told on Wednesday.  So I gave my obligatory explanation about Mercury’s retrograde and after hearing a pause was told to be positive.  I explained it didn’t matter how positive I was, Mercury was in retrograde.  That may also be a good reason why the elevators, three of six, all opened boing boing boing for me when I returned from lunch.  Stuff like that hardly happens for me.  Mercury does the opposite for us now that he’s in retrograde, so not only one but three lovely chariots opened.  If only my camera were ready.   

At home, I found enough to do until it was time not to do it.  Baby and I did not get to practice even once today.  God bless us both.  Tomorrow is the fun. Helen

Visuals

This boy was in a Georgia shelter.  He looks so much like my Aussie, Annie.  I was torn between trying to get him and the distance between us.  He was on the Walton, Georgia site for several weeks, and I thought someone would adopt him.  He came in with a Dobie, who was adopted.  I was sure there would be a last call in an e-mail or something amazing like that to let me know he had no more time and needed help.   There wasn’t.  The last week I checked for him, he was gone.  I called the shelter and found out the worst.  He was put to sleep.  The only solace I have was that they use the needle instead of that horrific gas chamber.  He is one of the many that will haunt me forever.

Sweet Aussie Boy…RIP, My Almost Friend

I will make note here that shortly after suffering a broken heart from the loss of this boy, I found Raven in a shelter.  I thought Raven may have been the reason of my stalling due to false hope to help that boy.  Someday I’ll know. 

This was Raven’s mug shot released on the net.

Raven’s mug shot

These are some cartoons and pictures I got through e-mail that made me smile.

Finally!

BullShitz!

Escape!

Speaking of smiles, this is such a fantastic moment to have caught in a snap shot.  I wish I had taken it, but I’m glad whoever did, shared it with the rest of us.

Such a pretty bird smile on a beautiful background of hueful sky

I certainly can’t have one of these characters in and amongst the Fort Doberdale Squirrel Posse, but I do enjoy their classic independent, haughty and inquisitive nature.

Meow.

This was a pair of Doberkids listed on a website at my local shelter.  Thankfully, they were picked up by their owners, according to the shelter personnel.  Just looking at them makes me laugh.  They are surely a pair of comics.

A pair of characters

If you ever need a map of the USA, here’s one.

USA

And one of our fair state, county-by-county.

Florida counties

I saved this picture from an article I’d read about Mitt Romney putting his Irish Setter in a crate after attaching crate to the roof of his family station wagon then taking off with the dog inside on a vacation.  The drive went on for hours, and even though that poor dog had lost control of his bowels from fright, when Mit found excrement in the crate, did that stop him from putting that poor dog back in the same inhumane predicament for the ride home?  No!  Any idiot that treats family like that is not fit to lead any country.  He lacks a heaping load of common sense for one thing and compassion for another.

Jack ass on the right

It’s from Time.com

Here’s an excerpt.

The incident: dog excrement found on the roof and windows of the Romney station wagon. How it got there: Romney strapped a dog carrier — with the family dog Seamus, an Irish Setter, in it — to the roof of the family station wagon for a twelve hour drive from Boston to Ontario, which the family apparently completed, despite Seamus’s rather visceral protest.

Massachusetts’s animal cruelty laws specifically prohibit anyone from carrying an animal “in or upon a vehicle, or otherwise, in an unnecessarily cruel or inhuman manner or in a way and manner which might endanger the animal carried thereon.” An officer for the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals responded to a description of the situation saying “it’s definitely something I’d want to check out.” The officer, Nadia Branca, declined to give a definitive opinion on whether Romney broke the law but did note that it’s against state law to have a dog in an open bed of a pick-up truck, and “if the dog was being carried in a way that endangers it, that would be illegal.” And while it appears that the statute of limitations has probably passed, Stacey Wolf, attorney and legislative director for the ASPCA, said “even if it turns out to not be against the law at the time, in the district, we’d hope that people would use common sense…Any manner of transporting a dog that places the animal in serious danger is something that we’d think is inappropriate…I can’t speak to the accuracy of the case, but it raises concerns about the judgment used in this particular situation.”

Here is a picture of chihuahua who had been punched many times by her vet because she would not be still for him to treat her.  Obviously the owner wasn’t around, but luckily an employee spilled the beans on this vet.  He had been known for cruelty before, and shouldn’t be in this field, but rather should be in jail.

Bella after abused by her vet

How sweet this male cardinal is to his little cardinal mate.

Cardinal Love Birds

🙂

Helen

Blimp Then BSO Copter

(1/30/08) Wednesday evening as I was fixing dinner, I heard a heap load of commotion outside, Dobies and Aussie were upset at something, and when I stepped out into the backyard I saw it.  It was the blimp I had ordered to fly over our house to motivate Baby for this weekend’s AKC trial at the rodeo arena.

Go Baby Go!

(1/31/08) Thursday morning, the BSO copter, search lights and all, hovered right over the Fort Doberdale HQ as my Doberchildren busted out the back door and I hobbled out in fuzzy slippers, robe, and blurry vision to greet the morning. 

Baby’s BSO Copter

Eegads!  I’d forgotten that I’d ordered a 3-minute fly over to encourage Baby to do her best for the trial.  The extra 34 minutes of overtime was not on my order, so if they’d wanted to scare the bleep out of me while I got ready for work, mission accomplished.  I’d been wondering what they were looking for, called FHP, BSO and local police, and no one would spill the beans, which I think is absurd.  They are looking for something/someone in my backyard or thereabouts, and I can’t know what?  California is totally different, and anytime I called, they gave me the benefit of the doubt and told me the situation.  In addition, California cops would even announce it over the helicopter’s loud speaker.  I’m still peturbed at the lack of communication these law enforcement agents offer us tax payers.  But, Baby got the thrill of a copter and I got my nerves roused and a couple of neat-o pictures.   

Baby’s BSO Copter and Birds

The morning skyscape was beautiful. 

Baby’s Sky

More of Baby’s Sky

Helen

Mercury in Retrograde

Mercury is in retrograde, and so is my patience.  

What is a planetary Retrograde? 

Picture the planets orbiting the Sun like an old-fashioned mechanical racetrack. Each planet has its own track, a different distance from the Sun, traveling at different speeds. A retrograde happens when Earth passes a planet, making that planet appear to slow down, stop and then go in reverse. This optical illusion is similar to passing a car that’s going slower than you — as you pass it, it seems to go backwards, but it’s still plugging along at the same speed and in the same direction. During a ‘reversal,’ the areas of life that the retrograde planet rules will feel askew until it catches up to Earth again. Each planet exerts influence over certain aspects of life. Mercury rules communication, for example, so when it’s in a favorable sign, your communication abilities are stronger and more effective. When a planet goes retrograde, the effects of its influence are reversed. During a Venus retrograde, don’t expect love to come easily. Interestingly, the reversal of your response to these planetary movements is across the board. So if you’re usually awkward during conversations or if you hate public speaking, Mercury retrograde can actually work in your favor. You’ll suddenly feel much more at ease, and the words will flow smoothly.

What happens when Mercury retrogrades? 

You miss appointments, your computer equipment crashes, checks get lost, you find the car you just purchased during Mercury retrograde is a lemon. (Or, you hate your haircut, the lamp you bought shorts out, your sister hates her birthday gift.) There will be countless delays, cancellations and postponements–but know these will benefit you in the long run. Don’t fight them, although your frustration level and feeling of restlessness will be hard to cope with at times.

All machinery and things with moving parts–such as computers, VCRs, camera equipment, garbage disposals, and so forth, will reveal any weak links now. It is critical that you back up your data system and be more careful and vigilant than ever. Projects will demand more time and money than anticipated this month.

When are the Mercury retrogrades in 2008?

January 28-February 18
May 26-June 19
September 24-October 15 

So, back to my story.  The Mercury Retrograde started on Monday, January 28, and it’s going strong.  Monday, the first day of the Retrograde, my boss came into work with his laptop.  He could no longer sign onto it.  He also gave me his ID badge, which suddenly stopped giving him access to the building.  I initiated a help desk ticket, which brought the computer ops cops, conveniently located on our floor, over to pick up the machine and research its problem.  Later, we received an e-mail from one of the two ops cops saying the machine needed a reinstallation of the OS and the software.  The second of the ops cops asked my boss who’d been “messing” with the machine, and boss wrote back, “No one.”  I had been seconds away from hitting the send button to everyone discussing the Mercury Retrograde reason; however, due to the fact that I’d given that explanation to my boss upon hearing of his two mechanical breakdowns, and instead of a “Thank you, Helen,” got a roll of his eyes, I decided to keep my valuable knowledge to myself.  And the ID card?  Somehow, in the computer security system, the number assigned to his ID card changed and no longer matched his.  Just like that.  Thank you M.R. 

Tuesday night, I went outside to work with Baby on some obedience routines, and wouldn’t you know it?  I flipped the back yard light on and nothing happened.  The darn light burned out!  So we missed a valuable night of practice. I don’t remember much of the rest of Tuesday night being I started drinking the very delicious bottle of wine given to me by my friend from dog obedience club.  Perhaps I should mention here, and possibly in another post, that Baby (the 10-and-3/4-year-old Queen Mother of Fort Doberdale) and I (over 10 and 3/4 years old) are entered in an AKC obedience trial both Saturday and Sunday this weekend.  It’s the first serious competition – that means off-leash work – I’ve entered in over 15 years.  More on that, I hope, in another post.

Back to Mercury and his retrograde.  Wednesday, as I was wrestling with my printer to acknowledge the jam I’d cleared 15 times was indeed cleared and to stop giving me an error message, a co-worker came from down the hall with the news that his fax machine was holding onto his fax in memory and would not print it out.  Interestingly, after telling him about the Mercury retrograde and getting the same eye-ball rolling response, I told him the problem I was having with my printer.  He tried and was able to clear it after two attempts.  Hmmm.  We then went down to his fax machine where I was able to reciprocate the favor and coaxed his machine to print his faxes.

Later in the day, I made sure to run to Home Depot during a break with my burned out bulb to get two new ones.  I didn’t want to be short-handed next time this happened.  Instead of the 150 watt skinny bulb, I got the 250 watt skinny bulbs, so I could really see what was going on in that back yard during our practices.  I installed the light, and that was no easy feat.  It involved a teeny screw, a glass cover and a lot of cursing.  Mind you, Luigi and Raven figured it was time to play, so there was definitely an irritation factor with them right under my little off-balance step ladder shoving at it and making me and it waddle.  I’m not good with heights.

Once I got the gosh dern screw out, the cover came off, and I won.  That battle anyway.  I didn’t use my reading glasses either even though I couldn’t see anything but outlines and blobs.  Tehehehe.  Putting the new bulb in so the light would come on, though, was not as easy.  It took several attempts of up and down on the wobbler steps, moving the bulb around, turning the switch on and off when the light didn’t go on, so I wouldn’t get electrocuted when I went back out there to try again.  On/off, on/off, on/frigging off…then I got mad and didn’t give a flying fig, and left the darned switch on.  I didn’t even step up on that rickety step ladder, and didn’t care I had my foot on Raven’s fish-shaped stuffed toy, I had my hand on that skinny light and was flipping it around – sight unseen – till the darn thing lit.  Yeehaw!  Though it seemed a little less bright than I’d imagined, I had light, and after we had dinner and I made the call to Anne Marie Sawicki, we would practice again, Baby and I.  All was well.

Ann Marie Sawicki, the animal communicator, by the way, is a monthly guest on the Cat Chat show on Sirius radio, the Martha Stewart channel.  I have never called her, but have a reason to do so now.  I was confused this morning as I was fixing dog breakfasts, though, when Tracie Hotchner announced on a segment she did on the Morning Show that Ann Marie would be on tonight, as she is usually on the first Wednesday of every month.  I was pretty sure it was Wednesday and still January, but neither of the hosts on the Morning Show said it wasn’t, and I didn’t have time to argue.  I figured I would call tonight, and get my answer, and who cares if it’s January or February.

It is January.  After timing the dogs’ dinners – slow cooked chicken, potatoes and carrots in water seasoned with garlic, ginger, and turmeric, over rice – getting it prepared and served with minutes to spare, I was so damned proud of myself.  Dogs were out doing their duty and I had my cell phone ready to go.  At 7:50, I walked outside into a star-lit back yard.  The little movement indicator must have not recognized movement, so the light stayed out.  I went inside and did what I always do in these cases, flip the switch off and on.  But instead of light, there was nothing.  NOTHING!  That #$%*& light was not doing its thing.  That $7 light.  SEVEN DOLLARS!  Mon Dieu.  I was so irked, I got up on the darn wobbly step in the blasted dark, with my screw driver, no glasses and was not getting off that thing without that bulb to see what transpired there.

The angels were with me because that screw came out and so did the glass cover.  And that bulb?  It is toast.  It’s a puffy, black and blue, burned up bulb.  Why!?  I do not know, but it and its brother are going back to Home Depot tomorrow, and I’m going to ask for a refund and a reason.  And a 150 watt bulb.  Yes, I am.  Then I’m going to stop at Frank and Sense and buy 36 candles to place and light around the yard so the QM and I can practice tomorrow night.  I am thinking something’s gotta give besides my patience.

And by the way, my computer, the broken one, is being repaired…now.  Of all times…now!  Maybe, just maybe, it will slip by Mercury’s oversight?  And maybe Raven will keep her yap shut the next time I ask her to.  Uh huh.

Helen

Bitches Rule, Dogs Drool

Raven’s slowly growing up in the brains department and testing her rank in the Fort Doberdale hierarchy. 

She’s still a puppy-head, but an older model puppy-head, and has little self-control over some of her impulses.  OK, many of her impulses.  For example, when I give treats to others among our group, she doesn’t think twice to either grab my hand (hard, I might say) as it and the treat move toward the non-Raven snout, or to grab any morsel that is hanging out or dropping from the non-Raven snout.  How rude!

When I dole out treats, anyone who sits, gets one.  And most of them will stay seated to see if there is a second treat go-round.  Raven doesn’t get that part.  She is one-of-a-kind and wants it all.  So she sits, grabs, then grabs grabs grabs because she thinks that will get her more treats faster. It doesn’t.  I have my second hand ready when I am moving the first one with treat towards another dog’s beak.  That way, I can divert Raven’s beak before she clamps down on my hand.  She will sit when I ask, but only for a second or two.  We are working on the “Raven, stay” part, and that should resolve some of this, along with maturation.  I have not received the “mature brains installation disc” yet for Raven.  When that disc comes, probably in 12 to 18 months, the neighbors won’t hear “RaaaVeeeN!” echo over the sounds of freeway traffic and construction drills.

With that said, I was amazed at first, then not at second, when yesterday, Baby, the Queen Mother Herself, took her Abuelita Tortilla strip out into the yard away from the crowd to eat.  Raven ran right behind her.  The QM dropped her chip and gave the usual Queen Motherly warning bark, which every dog in Fort Doberdale understands and respects.  Except Raven.  Raven grabbed the chip, chomped, swallowed and ran.  Baby and I looked at each other.  Action was necessary.  No one disobeys the QM’s warning bark without repercussions.  I barred Raven from the QM’s territory, gave her Queenliness one chip for the lost one and one chip for pain and suffering, and we all listened to Raven thowing a fit while Baby crunched her chips.  

Baby was recompensed by the fact that the majority of the FDSP watched her eat.  That is one of Baby’s favorite ruling skills.  She waits till everyone else is available before she eats something special, so they can watch her enjoy what they don’t have.  She is always the last one to finish dinner, and has an audience of droolers by then.  In between dainty bites, she warns them to stay away from the dish with her best, ferocious warning barks.  She loves it.

Raven’s other current process is the toy guarding game, which I had witnessed for the first time last night.  She usually guards her toys by keeping them in her mouth and generally swinging or shoving them at me.  Last night, I sat on the sofa, Baby curled up next to me, and Luigi brought a toy.  Somewhere in the games we were playing, Raven got that toy, and jumped on the sofa with it.  Oddly enough, she placed it right by Baby’s tail, which didn’t exactly please the QM, but she could live with it.  When Luigi approached, she growled a warning and snapped the air.  This went on for a while, and had I had my camera, there would be pictures to share as it was the first time Raven initiated the game.

This behavior is common between Dobergirls and Doberboys.  Generally, Dobergirls are hardwired to dish it out and Doberboys are hardwired to endure and react at the speed of lightning to Dobergirls’ snaps.  Frankly, it’s downright comical when the game is played the way it’s supposed to be and everyone’s following the rules of nature. 

Ginger and Luigi are experts as a team, and often play a prolonged and more sophisticated version of the game in the backyard.  When Ginger gets Luigi’s ball, he follows her as she takes it from one place to the next, drops it nearby, sniffs the ground, looks up and lifts her lip at Luigi, sniffs the ground, and all the while, Luigi is taking one step forward, one step back, trying to figure out when it will be safe to grab that ball and walk away with it.  Eventually, Ginger relinquishes control by finding a spot to sniff that is so darn interesting that she forgets about that ball.  But it is her choice when that happens.  She’s in charge. 

There is a saying in Dogdom that is very true.  Bitches rule, dogs drool. Raven is on her way to being true to her calling. 

Helen