Jan 152009
 

There is a conceptual fallacy that has existed for many years but seems to have recently increased in popularity.  It is the notion of the bad puppy: my puppy is so bad he ate my favorite shoe, knocked over grandma, chewed through a wall, dug up the yard, destroyed a pillow, drug a table around, pooped in a museum, chased a cat, jumped out a second story window, knocked a window out of my car, humped a pillow, got mud on my shirt on my way to work, got out of the fence, got on the counter, stole the steaks, released the parking brake, set the curtains on fire, peed on my bed…

Let me share a slightly painful insight with you—these are not bad puppies, they are just puppies owned by idiots.  The amount of trouble your puppy gets into is a measure of your IQ, not his mischievousness.

I know, it hurts and you want to deny it.  Don’t.  Believe me, whatever your puppy has done, I have seen it.  My house has raised countless puppies of every variety, lions, hyenas, raccoons, crows, lemurs, antelope, skunks, wolves, coyotes, goats, chickens, rats, kinkajou, etc.  I have seen things destroyed that you would not believe. I have seen my house flooded and my car’s interior completely destroyed, and I can honestly tell you it is almost always the owner’s fault… 

If it seems like your puppy is more trouble than any other puppy, it simply means you are messing up more.  You are failing to imagine the trouble he can get into, you are making mistakes.  Sure, some puppies have more energy or are more destructive, but they all follow the same immutable laws of nature. They chew, they dig, they run, they jump, they climb, and they get into exactly as much trouble as you allow, no less and no more. 

Don’t feel too bad about this.  One of the many gifts your puppy will give you is humility.  He will remind you that for all your vaunted higher reasoning skills, your thumbs, your speech and writing skills, you can still be outwitted by a ten week old puppy with boundless energy…

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 January 15, 2009  Posted by at 10:20 am Tagged with: , , ,
Jan 152009
 

In February, Pat Patrick and Emily Dennis were arrested on charges of dog fighting. Ostensibly damning evidence was also seized—treadmills, antibiotics, etc. Their animals were rescued from their enclosures by the humane society and taken to be put in other small enclosures.

Numerous media stories talked about the glorious rescue of these dogs by the heroic humane society.

Over the next few months, virtually all of the dogs were killed by the humane society.

Nine months later, both defendants were acquitted because there was no compelling evidence that they had fought their dogs.

The day after Patrick and Dennis were acquitted, HSUS presented their 2008 Humane Law Enforcement Awards to the persons responsible for this raid.

I have no idea if these people were fighting their dogs or not. No idea if their dogs had good lives or not, and I am certainly not defending anything they may have done to harm the dogs.

What I do know is that the dogs were taken and killed before their owners even got to present their case in court. And no restitution was paid, no apology offered. Quite the contrary, awards were given out for those involved. And that simply terrifies me. That means the HSUS can raid anyone they want and seize their dogs. Their evidence could be something as specious as the fact that you spent thousands of dollars to purchase a treadmill to help exercise your beloved dogs.  Sure, you may be proven innocent in the end, but your dogs will have been traumatized, over-vaccinated, hacked into, or just plain killed…

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 January 15, 2009  Posted by at 9:23 am Tagged with: , , ,
Jan 012009
 

It was around 1992, when I knew much less than I do today, but thought I knew even more than I think I do now. I had a very high energy Newfie.  She was 140 pounds of pure-unadultrated-jack-russel-meets-border-collie-meets-chupukabra-on-speed energy.  One night I drove from Los Angeles to Santa Fe and arrived at around 2:30 in the morning.  Knowing that Tillie would not let me sleep after spending 14 hours in the truck, I took her to the nearby park for a quick game of fetch to take the edge off.  On about the third throw, she ran up to a house adjacent to the park, in through their giant open pet door, and disappeared.

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity whispering as loudly as I could “TILLIE, COME!!”  I wondered what lived there that needed the dog door that seemed to be about three feet across, and how it was going to feel about the Newfie that I am SURE jumped up on their bed, slobbered in their ears, pulled on their pillows, grabbed a snack, and then ran back out the doggie door where I hastily threw her into the truck and departed as quickly as I could.  I have always wanted to go back someday and ask them about the strange nightmare they had one night. So, if you are reading this blog, and lived next to a park in Santa Fe in the nineties and were visited one night by a friendly hyperactive bear, I am sorry…   

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 January 1, 2009  Posted by at 7:26 pm Tagged with: ,