Who’s News? 
Tiny
bites of it.
The Week of March 22 - 27
Related: Pollution
wreaking havoc on frogs
For
the Love of Poodles and Pooches Battles Closure Due to Lack of Funds –
donations come in after seeing this newscast
Monday, March 30, 2015
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Reckless Abandon: The Universal Problem of the Stray Dog
Potcakes
The term potcake sounds like a stress relieving pastry one
might have with one’s tea, but it’s the name for stray dogs found on the Caicos
and Turks Islands Bahamas . The actual origin of the name has to do with
the crust of rice and pea mixture that forms at the bottom of the cooking pot
when preparing that meal. People in the Bahamas
would feed these wandering dogs the mixture and the name became so associated
with them that it stuck. Officially the
dogs are called the Royal Bahamian Potcake.
 |
| There's a magnet for that. |
Potcakes are about 45-50 pounds when in good health, have
floppy ears and a pronounced snout like a shepherd. They make great companions when adopted but
may have a tendency to wander. They come
in many colors, with short hair.
In New Providence in the Bahamas ,
there are about 11,000 strays. According
to Wikipedia, 1% of tourists visiting there said they were “turned off” by the
dogs. There’s always that one jerk,
isn’t there? At the time of this
writing, the potcake dogs declined to comment on whether the tourist’s pasty
body in a Hawaiian print shirt was a turn off.
Efforts to reduce the potcake population have included such extreme measures as having police
shoot and poison the stray dogs.
Rescue groups have developed to tackle the issue, including Potcake
Place http://www.potcakeplace.com/home
 |
| A little Sato family stayed close to us as we camped on the beach in Puerto Rico. |
Satos
I spent some time on the beach in Puerto Rico
with a little tribe of stray dogs. They
were of various sizes and shapes. They
were friendly and affectionate, but they all seemed rather washed out as if
bleached by the sun, making their sad, dark eyes stand out like polished
onyx. Their coats were dry and brittle
and flecked with dandruff.
It is estimated there could be a million strays in Puerto
Rico and there are accompanying rescue groups trying to mitigate
the problem. All Sato Rescue http://allsatorescue.org is one. On their site they have some action items the
public can take on to help, including making complaints to the tourism department, a valuable aspect of the Puerto Rican economy, for a humane
solution to the problem. In these
overwhelmed communities, though, I shudder to think of the options.
Another issue is the shipping of strays from other
territories and countries directly to the United
States .
A dog breeder critic of mine who was unhappy with what Who Rescued Who?® stands for (simply the adoption of homeless
animals with the philosophy that when one rescues an animal it often rescues
you right back), pointed out that he does “not support the ‘throwaway’ society
that promotes and glamorizes the ‘saving of poor unloved dogs’ that
irresponsible breeding and importation of foreign dogs to US shelters produce.”
Does he have a point? I mean, no doubt
he’s kind of a tool, but is shipping dogs here a bit like putting a used
bandage on someone else’s wound? We are
not a kill free country so there must be a better answer and it boggles great
minds.
In her blog entry, Dr. Barbara J. King, Chancellor Professor
of Anthropology at the College
of William Puerto Rico .
She describes them as “cross-species interactions.” The men and dogs gather together by
night. The men protect the dogs from
removal sweeps by authorities. By day
they go their own ways, but each night gather again into these protective
huddles to sleep or at least spend time until daybreak.
 |
| Little Sato at sunset. |
There are spay and neuter voucher programs in Puerto
Rico , but the need is so great they are simply overwhelmed. And if people cannot afford to put food on
the table, how could they entertain the feeding and vet bills of a dog? Dr. King’s blog addresses the problems of
humans and animals as interlaced, calling for compassionate solutions to these
issues with all beings in mind.
Soi Dog (Street Dog)
In Bangkok , Thailand
Prior to major events in the community, great roundups occur
in which they gather up dogs by the thousands and send them to shelters, or
animal quarantine centers out of sight and mind. Efforts by the government to solve the
problem by way of requiring pet owners to register and microchip their dogs and fining owners if their animals are found wandering, backfired miserably. These punitive methods cause non-compliance
because in order to avoid fines, people under stress simply abandon their
animals.
Historically, attaching fees or penalties to dog ownership
increases the stray problem in that area.
A rescue organization trying to help is Soi Dog Rescue: https://www.soidog.org
 |
| Tammie Stevens, (The Lazarus Fund, Billy Fish Books) providing solace and rescue to dogs in Bundi, India. |
Pariah Dogs
Initially this was a generic term for a wandering,
scavenging dog. However, the Indian
Pariah Dog refers to a rust colored, dingo-like dog prominent in South
Asia . This dog has risen in
status and is accepted as an increasingly desirable breed, with its sharp,
intelligent eyes and pointy ears.
Addressing the human/animal cohabitation
issue, Arpan Sharma, chief executive of the
Federation of Indian Animal Protection Organizations told New Delhi
Journal reporter Gardiner Harris, “The first
thing you need to start doing to reduce the stray population is manage your
garbage better.”
Hindus oppose the killing of
many animals, removing the euthanasia option for much of the population. Proponents of euthanasia point to the fact
that people should be able to walk the streets without fear of attack and
death.
It’s a quandary, and a
universal one.
Dogs
Conversely, in Holland
In a detailed paper on the
subject (link below), Isabelle Sternheim reveals how Holland
Like India Holland Holland
Soon, however, Holland Holland
Adherence to the culture’s respect of “personal liberties
rather than universalism” instilled in the Dutch people a strong acceptance of
individual differences among people.
They were, after all, as the author explains, “a small country that had
to get by through interaction with other cultures.” She says that the “empathy and observation”
practiced by people of the Netherlands
was a survival mechanism that soon became rooted in their collective
psyche. This empathy included a concern
for the well being of animals.
Interestingly, Sternheim calls these practices “feminine” elements of
their society, and says they are highly valued along with “caring,
collectiveness, and separation of work and private life.”
Isabelle Sternheim makes a case for CNVR: Collect, Neuter,
Vaccinate and Return. She argues that
even impoverished societies can manage this strategy if used alongside
education and registration campaigns.
American Strays
And here in the US we have our collections of problems as well, some of which seem so trivial when held against the global backdrop of the Stray Dog as it relates to humankind, but some that are shared down to the finest detail. We do our best to encourage our brothers and sisters around the world not to eat dogs, to be kind to animals, but have no solution for starvation and poverty and are often woefully unkind to one another. We so often fall short of practicing what many of us sometimes arrogantly preach. But there are slivers of light along the way. Aren't we all just strays anyway, seeking a sense of belonging and security? Critics attack those bleeding heart dog rescuers as ignoring the human problem, but each grain of sadness is directly connected to the other. There are enough problems for us to battle together, each using our own special strengths and passions to chip away slowly at the things that plague us.
-Kiki Nusbaumer
Links in order:
http://www.billyfishbooks.com/Tammie-Stevens-bio.htmlhttp://straydogscampaign.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/DR_Dutch-Straydogs.pdf
Friday, March 20, 2015
Who's News?
Who’s News?
Little bites of it. The
Week of March 15 - 20.
Woman
saves dog thrown from truck on I-435 Police Search
Follow Up!Two
arrested in investigation of dog ties to railroad tracks because she wouldn’t
fight “I’m not going to say I have the perfect boys...” Says their mother, who will support them
100%. And there you have it.
Mom
dog saves pups from forest fire by digging hole
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Amy McCracken and Cheesburger, Another Double Rescue
We were
given permission to reprint this story by Amy McCracken, Executive Director
at Richmond Animal League (www.ral.org):
(Alyssa
was a 14 year old girl who had Cystic Fibrosis and was a beloved friend of Amy
McCracken, the Executive Director of Richmond Animal League)
Watching
Alyssa die was the hardest thing I have ever done. Despite her incredible
bravery and the crazy goodness of her family, it was, in a word, hellish.
Floppy (stuffed animal) was under her shoulder the entire time. Her doll,
Sallerina, close by. So many of my friends had become totally invested in her
life, and losing her after all she had been through was devastating.
 |
| All other staff were at training that day at Richmond Animal League. |
August 2, 2013
I went back to work. For the first time since coming to work for
Richmond Animal League, I was alone at the shelter. We had an off-site
training that everyone was attending and there was not one of our 300
volunteers lurking about. I was very, very grateful to be there
alone. As amazing and loving as everyone had been to me, I did not want
to see or talk to anyone. I was just sitting at my desk staring at my
computer when I realized that the dogs were going nuts. I have no idea how long
they were carrying on. I just knew that something wasn’t right. I went to
the door closest to my office and looked in the long skinny glass window to the
kennel. There was a huge white dog standing at the door. Just
standing there. And the kenneled dogs were so mad. Huge White Dog
wasn’t barking at all. He was just standing there at the door. I could
not see that he was wearing a collar because he is so fluffy. I was
scared of him. I went over to the clinic and asked a coworker to
help me put a loose dog back. She came over and saw him and said, “Oh,
that’s Cheeseburger! He came in yesterday morning while you were at
Alyssa’s funeral. He’s harmless.” She put him back and locked his kennel.
I sent an email to the staff to please double check that all animals are
secure before leaving the kennel.
Five minutes later the dogs were going crazy again.
Again, Cheeseburger was out and standing at the door. Again, I put him
back.
Five minutes later the dogs were going crazy. I have no idea how he
unlocked his steel kennel door time and time again. But he did.
I finally asked him if he had to go outside for a minute. I put a
leash on him and he pulled me right into my office and sat down. Under my
chair. And then stared at me as if to say, “Don’t mind me. Get back
to work.”
And he stayed there the rest of the day.
 |
| Burg was left alone in the house when the homeowners were evicted. |
When my co-worker and our kennel director, Pam, came back I asked where
Burg came from. He had been pulled from Richmond Animal Care and Control
(RACC)—that was all she knew. I called RACC. They said that Burg
and another dog had been left behind in a home after his owners were
evicted. It was a long time before anyone knew that the dogs were there,
and they were in rough shape by the time a neighbor complained and animal
control discovered them. Burg had come to RAL while I was at Little A's
funeral.
I told Cheeseburger that he could stay in my office for the day, but that
he was not my kind of dog.
I told Alyssa’s mom and dad about him. At first they thought maybe
Burg was from Alyssa. It didn't take long to know it.
That night, I brought him home just for the night. We
talked. I explained to him that even though he seemed to come in at just
the right time, and that maybe Little A did bring him to get me through the
weekend, he was not my kind of dog. He understood.
August 3, 2013
I took him to the neighborhood farmer’s market to find a good home for
him. That’s when I realized that little kids love Burg. So
much. I wished I had a video camera on my head so that I could have
recorded excited little faces charging toward Burg shouting, “So fluffy!
So fluffy! So flufffffffffffffffffffffffy!”
 |
| Fluffy! |
I told everyone. Look at this dog! He is the perfect dog!
He’s quiet! He’s gentle! He’s a thinker! He loves
children. He doesn’t bark. He walks great on the leash, and will
sleep anywhere. The shelter opens at noon today! He’s available!
Come by! He could be all yours today!
After the farmer’s market we went to visit Alyssa (Alyssa’s grave – photos
unavailable), and to thank her for not letting either of us be alone for the
weekend.
I called the shelter and asked them to call me if anyone had come looking
for Burg—and that I would bring him right over if they had. But no one
had, and we ended up back home again. (He really is smart—even if he
doesn’t know what side of the door the knob is on).
Burg was as sad as I was. I tried to make him feel
better. I even found and printed out this picture from the Internet
Machine and tried to rewrite his life story for him. Tried to pretend
that no one ever left him behind.
“Look at you!” I told him. “Look how cute you were when you were a
puppy," I lied to him. I loved you then and I love you now!
Even though you are not my kind of dog.”
I’m not sure he bought it, but I think he loved me for the effort.
The next week he spent his days in my office and his nights at my
house. We talked a lot about Alyssa.
August 10, 2013
It was Saturday again, and I took Burg back to the farmer’s market.
Everyone was very happy to see him, but sad that he had not been adopted.
I talked him up again. “He is completely housetrained! He sleeps
until 10:00 a.m. on the weekends and Wednesdays! He loves to go for a
ride in the car! He eats, but he is not concerned with what you are
having. He is not a licker. He is a very good listener. He’s
a little sad, but coming around. He is very independent, but just when
you think he might not love you at all, he walks over and sits on your
foot. We open at noon today! We are located right behind the
Martin’s near Chesterfield Towne Center! Come over!”
 |
| Amy and Burg, making it official. |
And Burg came over and sat right on my foot.
And I drove to the Richmond Animal League and adopted him.
And good Lord in heaven above was Little A about on the edge of her seat
waiting for me to realize that she'd sent Burg, and that we were destined to
carry on without her, no matter how impossible it seemed.
So much has happened with Burgie since then. He has amazing friends who
have helped him heal in all ways. I'm still convinced Burg misses someone. In
fact, I think he misses a whole family. He listens to traffic and I wonder if
he is waiting for someone to finally come home. He will sit and watch an entire
Little League game, and he pays attention to doors opening wherever we are. I
can't think about all of that. I just know how incredibly lucky I am that Burg
spends time in my living room, and at the shelter with me, and I will never,
ever, take him back to the farmer's market and try to find him a home that I
think might be better than ours. Thanks for saving me, Burg.
Author: Amy McCracken, Executive Director, Richmond Animal League
Who's News
Who’s News?
March
8-14
Ice
Rescue of Cooper the Labradoodle
We
hear golfers taste great! Pics of huge gator on course
Pit
Shot and Tied to Railroad Tracks for being too sweet
 |
| Doggy squeeze. He's OK! |
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Higher Beings
 |
| A little coffee with your healthy dose of dog hugs? |
By now most of us are aware that petting a dog or cat is
scientifically proven to reduce stress and depression in humans. Along with the
more obvious benefits such as companionship, unconditional love, increased
opportunity for exercise and socialization, interacting with an animal causes
the body to release a stress-reducing hormone called oxytocin into the
bloodstream and reduce the production of cortisol, which is a stress-causing
hormone. Non-human animals are good for
us.
Then there’s the story of the rescued dog, Mac, whose
disability left him unable to climb stairs. When a fire broke out in his family’s home he somehow dragged himself up a flight to wake them, saving them all (by Caroline Golon, halopets.com).
The headlines are full of similar stories. In the Huffington Post the headline reads, “Rescue Puppy Saves Owner’s Life by Alerting Her to Gas Leak” (Melissa McGlensey). In a violent incident of road rage in
In a small town in Delaware
there is a young boy who was adopted from an orphanage in Bosnia . He has Spina Bifida and uses a
wheelchair. He visits the hospital
frequently. These things set him apart
from his peers and he feels lonely. In
the same town a black dog that lost the use of his hind legs languished in
foster care for nearly a year. Loved and
cared for by his foster/rescuers at LNF Dog Rescue, they were stunned that the
gentle dog was passed over again and again by potential adopters. When the boy’s family heard about the dog
who uses a wheelchair they immediately adopted him. Now the boy and the dog are like brothers, no
longer lonely, no longer the outsider, leaving their wheelchairs to swim
together in the family’s therapeutic pool like happy fish. They rescue one another every day.
 |
| Family Photo. |
An integral part of the human condition is the fact that
many of us feel rescued by our rescues.
Our loneliness is mitigated by their presence, our grief is truncated by
their affection and our lives are changed indelibly because they are a part of
it. Indeed this is the case with all
companion animals if the human among them is on par with this phase of the
evolutionary process. That is, sharing the
viewpoint that the other beings with whom we share this planet are not our
property, but our responsibility at the very least, and our family for the great majority of Homo
sapiens.
What of those who declare they are “just dogs” or “just
animals”? As if to say “just human” would be an outrage because we have somehow
outclassed the “just” prefix. This gives
us permission to classify some as slightly below or perhaps deeply below “our
kind”. It has a stench much like the
Bible interpreters who justify the dismissal of women and gay people as lesser,
with the imagined backing of certain passages they opportunistically read
literally, when the evidence is piled high against such a simplistic approach.
Here is an anonymous post reacting to the question, “Are
humans animals?” Just for fun. (I have
corrected some of his more glaring errors, the silly monkey):
“READ YOUR BIBLE. If you have the nerve to count yourself as
a position as low as an animal then just go around and call yourself that.
‘Cause I will not call myself a living beast
eating my feces, sniffing things, licking my
stuff (I
think you might do this if you could – the author), living in the wild, be a pet, and pick up my turd and throw it at someone.” (I know where
I’d throw my turd - the author)
My apologies to other Bible readers who are deeply mortified
by this individual.
This seems like an excellent place to talk about the SAE
fraternity for just a moment, because I don’t think I can get through the day
without weighing in on this (my apologies to the decent frats and sororities who are truly community minded and not raving sexists and racists. Seriously though, the bar is pretty low for you guys). The little
ditty the SAE men drunkenly bleated as they rode along on their bus made reference to
black people “hanging from trees.” When
we measure the intelligence of humans to prove we are inordinately more clever
than dogs, let’s not use a frat boy as the standard for measurement. Like fraternities, dogs historically ran in
packs. Sometimes they ate each other’s
poo to clean up after their young and to protect their sick or dying whose
leavings might attract predators, and just to keep the den tidy. Yet this group has enormous appeal when held
up against these “Greek” petri dishes of over-privileged white people,
festering in their own stupidity and spreading their shallow diseases to one
another under the translucent guise of their organization’s philanthropic
activity. It’s quite a different kind of
poo-eating from these highly evolved humans.
Dogs don’t seem to get hung up on the sorts of biases and grudges we do,
and often if a dog behaves poorly there is a human behind it. Just a human.
Maybe it’s time to take a good long look at ourselves before we paint
ourselves as worthy of “dominion” over the other beings in our midst. The hubris is galling.
“Genesis was
originally written in Hebrew, and since every translation involves
interpretation, we do well to ask about that English word, ‘dominion.’ (Some
translations read ‘rule over,’ instead.) In biblical Hebrew, the word indeed
supposes a hierarchy -- someone in a position of power exercises this quality
over inferiors. So ‘rule over’ or ‘have dominion’ is actually quite accurate.
However, its interpretation as the right to exploit and despoil is not.” - Kristin M. Swenson, Ph.D.
And what shall be done with Rebecca Miller and Janice
Freeman who would abuse and/or murder well over 100 dogs, tossing their bodies
into garbage cans like so much forgotten rubbish? (http://www.nbc12.com/story/28263279/more-than-130-dogs-found-in-choctaw-co-puppy-mill)
In the case of these Alabama
puppy mill demons, these psychopaths, I say without caveats that they are
murderers and should be dealt with as such.
And then there's Natwan Callaway and Bobby Hollinger, who tied a dog intended for
 |
| Tampa Police Sgt Rich Mills Rescued this helpless dog who had been shot and was tied to the railroad tracks.(Tampa Police Department's photo) |
The naysayers will cry, “But where do you draw the line? If you step on a bug do you go to jail?” I say those details can work themselves out,
but let’s start with the dog killers.
Meanwhile, how about we step on fewer bugs? How about at the very least we don’t elevate animal
abusers and murderers as they continue with their lives, as we do with Michael
Vick, who left so much horror and damage and so many dead bodies in his wake as
he trotted onto the football field, glorified and wealthy beyond most of our
wildest dreams. Excuse me one moment, I
just threw up a little in my mouth.
"Take only memories. Leave only footprints." - Chief Seattle
The above quote asks that we be stewards of the earth; noble custodians over all that we see. It is an impossible order to fill. Our presence alone is apocalyptic for many species and aspects of the environment. We can at least mitigate the damage by using compassion in our approach. We can do our best to do no harm. Why not start with a two pronged approach, treating our own species with dignity and respect. Concurrently, as we work to master just behaving decently toward one another, we can begin to view man's very best friend as a viable being with sentience, capable of great emotion, profound loyalty and experiencing pain and pleasure much like we do.
-Kiki Nusbaumer
Monday, March 9, 2015
A Cautionary Tail (Adopt Capone)
 |
| Capone, a handsome, ball obsessed boy who deserves a good home. He is available for adoption now at Rebound Hounds www.reboundhounds.org. |
At Who Rescued Who? we are engaged in social media to
communicate with our followers and to help us with research and promote our
organization. Each day as we peruse
Facebook and Twitter there is a barrage of posts about animals in urgent need
of rescue and placement. We do our best
to share the images of these dogs and cats who are earmarked for
euthanasia. These shares can save lives. There is a powerful community advocating for
these victims of the system, often surrendered by their humans for sometimes
ludicrous, sometimes legitimate reasons.
On March 4th the face of a beautiful one-year-old
pit bull filled the screen as we checked into our Facebook account. His name is Capone. He was surrendered by his human who cited
“personal problems” as her reason for relinquishing him to the system. So often our personal problems become
theirs. One could argue that men and
women who experience personal problems do not relinquish their children. The evolution of animals as family has made
its way through parts of society, but we’ve such a long way to go. Still, if an animal’s quality of life will
suffer because an individual or family chooses to uphold their side of the
bargain we make with our companions, regardless of the adversity they face, is
it better to re-home them? Certainly
this must be determined on an individual basis.
Who knows what agony Capone’s adopter experienced when she knew she
could not keep him.
Capone was slated for execution at noon that Wednesday.
A snow storm was headed east.
 |
| Capone's poster. |
When all the online paperwork was finished there was one
half hour to spare. A half hour more of
life, had no one spoken for this dog. But
he was safe, for now. We are in Richmond ,
Virginia Manhattan . I proceeded blindly, not tempered by reason
or practicality, but for the sole purpose of saving his life. With the bosses' blessing and two days off for
the trip, I planned to depart at 6am
the next day. The dogs, Molly and Mazzy,
were in the car with their winter coats packed, sleeping bags spread out, for their
trip to meet the
big guy in the Big Apple.
The snow began an hour into our journey. It piled on 95, at times slowing traffic to
20 miles per hour. The windshield was
constantly coated with dirt and ice and the shoulders of the road were littered
with vehicles less fortunate than us. We powered on in our Suzuki Grand
Vitara, 4 wheel drive the whole way.
We made it in ten hours.
In New York we
made our way to NYC Animal Care and Control and found a parking space directly
in front of the doors. This made it seem
as if the trip was blessed by some higher power, but our luck was about to run
out.
When they brought Capone down we met him outside. He was one of the most beautiful dogs I’d
ever seen, with a golden coat and rippling muscles, head the size of a
basketball and a wide goofy smile. My
little pibble seemed comfortable with Capone, but my small, 9 year old mix, the
dog who’d been a loyal hearing ear dog for two deaf pit mixes, seemed
terrified, growling and barking and trying to make herself big next to this
giant of a pup. It was an unusual
reaction from her and my heart sank. I
tried to make light of it and went inside to talk to the staff. The adoption counselor remarked on Molly’s
behavior, freeing me to express my fears that this may be a poor match through
no fault of Capone’s.
“I don’t want to be ‘one of those people.'” I confided in
him. I wouldn’t leave Capone to be put down. After some discussion I learned that Rebound Hounds (www.reboundhounds.org) had stepped up
to rescue Capone if he wasn’t adopted.
One way or the other the dog’s life would be spared, but I was crestfallen
as I piled my dogs back into the car. I
was plagued with the knowledge that in spite of my best intentions, I had let
Capone down.
So we left New York City ,
getting lost for an hour before finding the turnpike. In New Jersey
we hit a drift in the right lane and slid toward the guardrail, thankfully not
out into traffic. I put the car into 4
wheel low and crawled out of the snow bank and down the exit ramp to get gas
and collect myself. After pumping gas I
turned to get into the car and found all the doors locked. My old dog Molly was sitting on my key
chain. She had locked me out with her
butt. It was bitterly cold and my
fingers instantly began to freeze. I
knew it would not stay warm in the car much longer. I knew I’d have to break the window, but not
before pleading with Molly to press the “unlock” button, suddenly hoping she
had Lassie-like tendencies. Smart as she
is, she either couldn’t understand my pleading or was still mad at me for
assuming she’d be happy with a big brother, and curled into a doggy circle to
watch me lose it outside. It would be a
cold ride home with no window.
I was close to crying when a trucker came walking across the
parking lot toward me. He held an
unfurled coat hanger in his hand. It may
as well have been a lance and his brown jacket a suit of armor.
“I saw what you were doing.
My dog just did the same thing to me!” He said and pointed toward a big rig with a
dog seated in the passenger seat.
He jammed the hanger through the rubber seal of the driver
side window and tried for a good 15 minutes to get the doors unlocked to no
avail. Then two more guys came up. They held the antenna of their pick-up. Bending it slightly, they pushed it through
the window. With my trucker friend
helping guide them, in just a few tries they pressed the button to unlock the
doors. I would not have to shatter my window.
They refused my offer to pay them for a new antenna, saying simply, as
they screwed it bank into its place on their truck, “We always use it for
this.” 3 heroes at a New
Jersey gas stop.
They are indelibly tied to my memory of Capone. There are still really decent people out
there; people who would help a complete stranger on a freezing night.
So then came the philosophizing as we headed back out into
the night and I wallowed in
 |
| Seeking a forever home! Find Capone at Rebound Hounds in NY www.reboundhounds.org |
I looked through the rear-view mirror at Molly and Mazzy as they slept on their sleeping bags in the back, the initial shine of a car ride long
since tarnished, giving way to the kind of exhaustion an overly long journey
can induce. They were cozy and
warm. I thought more of Capone and hoped
he had a warm blanket and a few hugs as he moved over to Rebound Hounds for the
next leg of his journey, a cramp of
guilt sticking with me as we pulled out of Maryland
and into Virginia . And all these dogs left behind and in our prayers and good intentions make me think now of a line from the Sylvia Plath poem called The Jailer: "My ribs show. What have I eaten? Lies and smiles."
At 2am we arrived
home. I ran Molly and Mazzy out into the
backyard to potty before bed, cheering them on quietly in spite of my fatigue (sorry
Cesar Millan, it’s just how we roll: peepee and poopoo are much like a sporting
event at our house). As I waited in the quiet
dark for them to run up the stairs I tried to figure out what was learned on
this otherwise fruitless journey. I
tried to figure out if I was accidentally a bad person. The hopeful rush of well wishers as I
informed them of my plan to race up to New York to adopt Capone, the joy at the
prospect of bringing home a big brother for my pups, the anti-climactic departure
as I drove away without him; the heavy little empty place in me that was
supposed to be filled by Capone; what have I learned?
The words of the Urgent Help Center
“We see too often
situations where people adopted a dog to save them and the dog ended up
returned, in a bad situation, MIA or dead, so I would advise you to think
through the worse case scenario and what you would do. Let us know if you have
any additional questions.”
-Kiki Nusbaumer
-Kiki Nusbaumer
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Coprophagia: Eatin' Poo!
 |
| You kiss your mama with that? |
My sweet girl Molly came running gleefully in from the
backyard one day with a shiny wet turd gripped between her teeth. I like to think she mistook the thing for a
Tootsie Roll, but sadly it was just my first exposure to my beloved dog’s new
favorite snack food, any and all poop.
Needless to say her toothbrush has been moved to its own container in
the medicine cabinet.
Why?!
Fifi is just naturally gross.
The mother dog is hardwired to keep the den clean,
historically speaking, so this behavior may be a remnant of those old habits
that improved the odds of survival. A
clean den meant predators didn't have a strong scent to follow. She may wear a pink sweater and tiny little
booties in winter, but she’s still a descendant of the gray wolf.
“I learned it from watching you!” Unlike human children,
your dog sees you cleaning up and wants to pitch in. He may not have thumbs, but his piehole will
do just fine to help out around the house.
Your dog may have seen another dog eating poo and thought,
yeah, that looks cool.
Puppies try to jam everything in their mouths. If your puppy is doing it, she will likely
find it not-so-yummy and kick the habit.
 |
| How's my breath?? |
Could be an homage to dominance. If you have more than one dog, the submissive
one may eat the dominant dog’s feces.
This is the canine version of corporate brown-nosing, which is just as
gross but does not cause bad breath.
Sick dogs’ poo is an evolutionary red flag and must be
eaten. This reaches back to the days
when predators picked off the weaker members of the pack and is a protective
measure. Yet another example of dogs
being INCREDIBLY selfless. You rarely
see people do this.
And finally, sadly, a neglected dog may do this simply for
the attention. My own dog is not
neglected but I could see by the glint in her eye and the boundless joy in her
movements (so to speak) that she truly relished being chased maniacally around
the house with a single poo log dangling from her mouth. Imagine the attention a bored or lonely pup
could get from flaunting his enjoyment of this reviled, recycled delicacy.
Head to the vet.
Just to rule out health problems, if your pup is dining on
poo, take him to the vet to make sure he is not lacking nutrients in his
diet. A vitamin B deficiency can cause
feces consumption.
Dogs who are overfed may not be absorbing nutrients from
their food and go back for “seconds” in this manner.
Modern canine diets heavy on plant and carbohydrate proteins
may be tougher for the dog to digest.
Poo may hold the enzymes needed to help digest this stuff.
Poo eating can also be an indicator that the dog has
parasites or even pancreatic problems.
Some Solutions You Can Try
A high protein kibble (well balanced diet).
Succinct discouraging commands if he is caught in the act
(the reason he has that poo-eating grin).
Fixed feeding schedule and leash walking to control outcomes
(and prevent incomes).
Keep your dog entertained with exercise and play. Boredom breeds naughty behavior.
Keep your yard scooped of any potential snacks (by that I
mean doodie).
Train your dog with the Leave It command.
Consult with your vet about remedies you can purchase to add
to food or even spray on dog feces to make it taste bad...something to put on poo so it tastes bad. Are you guys reading this? This blog is gross.
Shiba Shake – Dog Tips, Care & Training http://shibashake.com/dog/how-to-stop-dog-eating-poop
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