Dog Bone to Pick

Letter to the Author Seeking advice

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 14:09:00 +0000

Dear Ms. Kiefer,
I am an older male dog fortunate enough to reside temporarily at a leading No Kill organization. However, it seems that my age is not quite the bees-knees when it comes to finding a permanent home. I’m not sure why as I’ve been told wisdom is a plus.
Outside of the issue of barking a severe scolding at any dog that happens to pass by my kennel on one of their daily walks, I can't quite figure out WHY nobody seems to give me a second glance.
While I admit that I can look a bit rough around the edges, I think it is simply a matter of a good bath, and perhaps a better understanding of canine machismo. It is, after all, MY kennel they're passing, and if I am not napping at the moment, I simply wish to remind them of that. When one has lived for a bit in a shelter environment, even with the most careful and generous caretakers, one tends to become a bit territorial.
My question is, when do I know that the right family has come to adopt me? What sort of family should I be looking for? It might make it easier for all of us if we're in agreement about temperament (theirs) energy levels (mine) willingness to take long walks (theirs) ability to relearn good social skills (mine) a desire to enroll in obedience training (theirs and mine) and a credible amount of patience (theirs) to wait for however long it takes for me to figure out what I'm being asked to do. I don't speak English per se, but am willing to learn as many commands as any owner can come up with. I think I may even be quite capable of some marvelous tricks.
Thank you for your continued support,
Never Too Old For Love
***************
My Dear Mr. Love,
It is indeed the wise dog who knows to ask questions about the proper family for him. While I commend you for admitting your addiction to territorial barking, I think perhaps you may put too much weight on it as an issue to finding the right family. Think of it as an excellent way to weed out anyone without the time and patience for such an enthusiastic and intelligent dog.
I have found that one of the most efficient ways to discover whether or not an owner is capable of understanding one's peccadilloes is to stand at the kennel door looking ridiculously adorable and occasionally jumping at the kennel latch to show one's enthusiasm for affection and walks while perhaps exhibiting a wee lack of self-control in the good habits department. I've seen for myself how many dogs cooped up a lot are actually very good about waiting patiently for me to come into a kennel and leash them up without losing their cool if I simply remember to ask them to behave and wait patiently for them to work out what I want.
However, down to the real business. To really put a new owner through his or her paces, I suggest that once you are brought out for a test drive around the grounds, try to be a very mild handful on the end of the leash whenever another dog passes by. I know you may seem quite ferocious about it to the untrained eye, but in my experience, it’s simply a symptom of shelter life and your handler should explain for you that you are neither obsessive or anxious about it. Just a bit of a yeller. I tend to think of it as "grumpy un-walked syndrome." It's not an attractive habit, but hardly incurable or patently dangerous.
After testing your potential family’s patience for a bit, you’ll know they’re the right one when they ask for counsel from your caretakers and learn that your unwanted behaviors are certainly not permanent if proper rules, boundaries and limitations are set in place and you receive a healthy dollop of obedience school and plenty of exercise.
Please don't hesitate to follow-up with me when you find your new home. If you’re still having trouble with old habits, I can advise your family to seek the advice of a good rehabilitationist to figure out where the miscommunication is occurring between you and your owners.
Best of Luck,
Katrina
Dog Bone Studios
p.s. Would you perhaps be willing to pose for some photographs outdoors soon?
Suggested Reading Including Instructive Slide Shows:

Useful Training Tool
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Dog Bone to Pick: Many of Albemarle County's hounds are of noble ancestry, but still victims of a modern plight

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 16:24:00 +0000

There are conflicting stories about the origins of the Virginia hounds eventually known as the Treeing Walker Coonhound, but according to the United Kennel Club's breed description, credit for the foundation strains of this scenthound goes to two Virginia residents, two Kentuckians, and a purloined pooch of unknown ancestry with hunting characteristics considered outstanding.
The contributing Virginians were Albemarle County resident Thomas Walker and none other than the George Washington, an avid fox hunter himself. Both imported English Foxhounds in the mid 18th century. It is these hounds that became the foundation strain of the "Virginia hound", which was later developed into the Walker hound.
Later, the two Kentuckians pictured below, John W. Walker and George Washington Maupin, developed the original Virginia hounds that we now call the Treeing Walker Coonhound, from certain strains of English Walker foxhounds and the stolen dog Tennessee Lead, pictured here with Walker and Maupin.

By C. J. Prouty, 1907. (From July 1923 TheChase Magazine)
The UKC considers the outcross with this stolen dog a major and defining influence on the breed we know and love today. Click here to read more about the history of this breed.
Noble Spirits deserve better
The SPCA relates that a higher than usual influx of lost hunting dogs occurs at the end of hunting season, but no influx of hound enthusiasts ready to adopt. SPCA Director Susanne Kogut was once quoted saying "At the SPCA, the most ill-mannered Golden Retriever or Labrador will be adopted within days or hours, but a calm, well-behaved hound may wait months to find a new home. For evidence, just walk around the SPCA and you will see a disproportionate number of hounds and black cats. Kogut pointed out that “the great thing about animals is they love us unconditionally, no matter what we look like, and maybe it is time for us to offer back that same unconditional love.”
So if you're considering adopting a new dog, go have a nice long look at the CASPCA's hounds. They deserve more than a second glance. And if you take one out for a test drive around the property you'll be as smitten as the author is with these amazingly loving, smart, and genuinly funny animals.
Adopt a Senior Hound for Christmas: $50
Dogfood for a year: $1.50 a day
A living piece of Albemarle history that gives slobbery kisses and unconditional love: priceless
There is another story about George Washington, the Marquis de LaFayette, a young and irresponsible John Quincy Adams, French Foxhounds and a legend that may explain the origin of the first basset hound in America. It's worth a read.
[originally posted at examiner.com]

No Kill Movement, changing lives one mind, one shelter at a time

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 17:18:00 +0000

Healthy Kitten at CASPCA, a No Kill Organization - K,. Kiefer 2010

As you go about the daily tasks of your life -- feeding the children, going to work, walking the dog, changing the litter box, mowing the lawn and dealing with a hundred more of the seemingly mundane if content bits and pieces of your life, somewhere in the country a healthy, adoptable animal will be euthanized.

Recent statistics are hard to come by, but American Humane -- not to be confused with the American Humane Society -- one of the founders of the National Council on Pet Population Study and Policy, offers the following information from the National Council:

...the most recent statistics published by the National Council are from 1997, and only 1,000 shelters replied to the survey at that time. Using the National Council's numbers from 1997 and estimating the number of operating shelters in the United States to be 3,500 (the exact number of animal shelters operating in the United States does not exist), these estimates were made:
* Of the 1,000 shelters that replied to the National Council's survey, 4.3 million animals were handled.
* In 1997, roughly 64 percent of the total number of animals that entered shelters were euthanized -- approximately 2.7 million animals in just these 1,000 shelters. These animals may have been euthanized due to overcrowding, but may also have been sick, aggressive, injured or suffering from something else.
* 56 percent of dogs and 71 percent of cats that enter animal shelters are euthanized. More cats are euthanized than dogs because they are more likely to enter a shelter without any owner identification.
* Only 15 percent of dogs and 2 percent of cats that enter animal shelters are reunited with their owners.
* 25 percent of dogs and 24 percent of cats that enter animal shelters are adopted.
It is estimated that approximately 3.7 million animals were euthanized in the nation’s shelters in 2008. This number represents a generally accepted statistic that is widely used by many animal welfare organizations, including the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA).
Please visit the National Council on Pet Population Study and Policy for more information.

Gloria's shyness might lead to death in some shelters. She is
safe and learning to socialize at the CASPCA. K. Kiefer 2010

There are many ways to become part of the No Kill movement's vision to change those statistics and move on to a No Kill nation of shelters where all adoptable and treatable animals are saved and rehomed.

A good place to start learning:
Nathan Windograd, national speaker and author of the critically acclaimed books "Redemption" and "Irreconcilable Differences".

Maddie's Fund, an organization heavily involved in the No Kill movement offers grant money in the fight to save animals.
Get involved right here at home.
The Charlottesville-Albemarle SPCA ("CASPCA") is a well-known and much admired No Kill organization that will be happy to share their vision and successes with you. And what better way to learn about the No Kill movement than to volunteer your time helping to rehabilitate, socialize, exercise and be a good friend to every adoptable animal in the shelter.

Madison is a gentle, loving girl who also happens to be deaf and blind in one eye, an almost certain death sentence at most shelters even though it doesn't stop her from enjoying a good life. She is well cared for and available for adoption through the CASPCA as of 4/1/10.

Springtime, Birdsong....Fleas

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:36:00 +0000

Even as Charlottesville shakes the record snows off of her hat, there still remains some very dirty ice under her skirts. Never mind, this too shall pass.

It always amazes me how quickly winter seems to turn to spring. The cold and its effect on my brain cells create a despairing certainty that I will never be warm again. This year's record snows and below average temps -- 10 degrees or more every single icy day for 4 months I think -- really had me muttering about the effects of global warming.

Today is different. Today is celebratory. Today marks a full week of above-average temperatures -- by as much as 10 degrees. Global warming aside, I like it, a lot.

Yesterday we were treated to our first groundhog visit, the day before a hawk sat on the bird-feeder crook looking for a meal. Obviously not a very bright hawk as our bird feeder sits very much in the middle of an open meadow type affair surrounded by thick evergreen brush. Not a finch in sight naturally.

A large marmalade cat, feral type, spent two days alternately sunning herself and skulking around. It's been a very hard winter for the feral cats. Two feet of snow on the ground for weeks at a time does not make for easy hunting. And while we have a running argument with the neighbor cats about their finch-filching ways, I can't be mad at the wild cats.

As I watched the tabby enjoying the long-awaited for warmth, I noticed that she had something of a scratchathon going. Fleas? ALREADY? One would think a hard winter should have lowered the flea population considerably, at least enough to give backyard fur bearers a little extra time come spring. Nope. I'm guessing it took a mere 2 or 3 days of warmth for the madly hatching, creeping, jumping exodus of blood suckers to make their presence felt.

Since I rather despise my neighbors at times for allowing their house cats to roam around indiscriminately murdering our song birds, I admit to a secret gleeful expectation that a sudden explosion in the flea population will have caught them unaware and Tiger will ferry home an entire colony to be dealt with inside the house.

The point of sharing my diabolical desires is to remind all pet owners that flea season is upon us and it's time to be vigilant about preventative measures.

Now it's time to figure out what to do with all that dirty snow-ice piled under my azealias.

Temperment Match - What do I look for in a Human?

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 14:52:00 +0000

Dear Dog Bone to Pick,

Perhaps you remember me from our twice-weekly walks. My name is Syd and my brother and I are shepherd-ish mixed-breed dogs, though I believe there may be some large terrier somewhere in the family closet. Mother never did say. I happen to be fortunate enough to reside temporarily at the Charlottesville SPCA, one of the No Kill Organization's leading shelters for animals. However, it seems that my brother and I are not quite the bees-knees, as it were, when it comes to finding a permanent home.

I know, you may think that it is because there are two of us. Believe me, my brother and I would be more than happy to live in separate homes. We're slightly older dogs and perfectly capable of taking care of our own families apart from one another.

Outside of the issue of barking a severe scolding at a dog that happens to pass by our kennels on one of their daily walks, we can't quite figure out WHY nobody seems to give us a second glance.

While I admit that I can look a bit rough around the edges, I think it is simply a matter of a good bath, and perhaps a better understanding of canine machismo. It is, after all, MY kennel they're passing, and if I am not napping at the moment, I simply wish to remind them of that. Do you feel that having one of the shelter volunteers work with me on this mild issue will help? When one has lived for a bit in a shelter environment, even with the most careful and generous caretakers, one tends to become a bit territorial.

I understand from a certain volunteer handler that my behavior may even be temporary or can be eliminated altogether with the proper obedience training. I'm not so sure of that. I really do have a thing for household, yard and family protection from other beasts, but if she says it can be done, I am most willing to try. I cannot speak for my brother, though he admittedly is mildly less finicky in the territorial department and may not need quite as much understanding. Mother always did love him more.

My question is, when do I know that the right family has come to adopt me? What sort of family should I be looking for? It might make it easier for all of us if we're in agreement about temperament (theirs) energy levels (mine) willingness to take long walks (theirs) ability to relearn good social skills (mine) a desire to enroll in obedience training (theirs and mine) and a credible amount of patience (theirs) to wait for however long it takes for me to figure out what I'm being asked to do. I don't speak English per se, but am willing to learn as many commands as any owner can come up with. I think I may be quite capable of some marvelous tricks.

Thank you for your continued support,

Syd (right side kennels, all the way to the back)

***************

My Dear Syd,

Of course I remember you. And thank you for your inquiry.

It is indeed the wise dog who knows to ask questions about the proper family for him. While I commend you for admitting your addiction to territorial barking, I think perhaps you may put too much weight on it as an issue to finding the right family. Think of it as an excellent way to weed out anyone without the time and patience for such an enthusiastic and intelligent dog.

I have found that one of the most efficient ways to discover whether or not an owner is capable of understanding one's peccadilloes, is to stand at the kennel door looking ridiculously adorable and occasionally jumping at the kennel latch to show one's enthusiasm for affection and walks while occasionally exhibiting a wee lack of self-control in the poor habits department. I've been told by a certain handler/rehabillitationist that you're actually quite a dream to leash up and very good about waiting patiently for her to come into your kennel without losing your cool. She says that one simply needs to ask you for this good behavior and exhibit some patience while you work out the request. It's excellent to be very obedient in this department as it bodes well for any future training. Good for you.

However, down to the real business. To really put a new owner through his or her paces, I suggest that once you are brought out for a test drive around the grounds, try to be a very mild handful on the end of the leash whenever another dog passes by. I know you may seem quite ferocious about it to the untrained eye, but from my prior observations, you are neither obsessive or anxious about it. Just a bit of a yeller, yes? I tend to think of it as "grumpy worker syndrome." It's not an attractive habit, but hardly incurable or patently dangerous.

I believe we both know that you may simply be dealing with the frustration of a long stay at the shelter. The right family can hopefully be counseled to understand that your behavior is not necessarily permanent and with proper rules, boundaries and limitations set in place -- coupled with a healthy dollop of obedience school -- you will undoubtedly make a tremendously loyal, loving pet.

Please don't hesitate to follow-up with me tomorrow when I arrive for your morning constitution.

Katrina

Dog Bone Studios

p.s. Would you perhaps be willing to pose for some photographs outdoors?

Enrichment, Relaxation and Safety - Tip #1

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 22:17:00 +0000

First, we'll start with one of my favorite organizations. Let's call them today's Heroes.

Give a Dog a Bone is an organization in San Francisco, (I DO miss my home town) all about making life so much better for dogs kept in long-term care. Check in at their site for some really inspirational ideas about how to make the dogs in your shelter's kennel just that much healthier and happier.

Yesterday I felt like I wasn't helping at all, then I remembered the Give a Dog a Bone folks and it reminded me that I do, actually, make a difference that counts.

Please be sure to read the safety precautions at the end of this post before trying this relaxation technique. Always remember these are shelter dogs we're dealing with and the normal expressions of dog behavior don't necessarily apply.

Now, my personal tip for the day to all new and/or untrained dog-walking volunteers: You don't actually have to walk the entire time.

In fact I've found that many of the dogs I handle are so frantic about the entire experience of just being outdoors they don't actually enjoy it. A "walk" that is spent with you holding onto one end of a leash for dear life and a dog on the other end who isn't really aware you're even back there is no walk at all. It's a battle of strength and will for both of you the entire time. Nobody in their right mind can really believe that kind of experience will have any beneficial effect on their mental health. Yours or the dogs.

When I find myself with a dog that is obsessively pulling, sniffing, whining, lunging and scent marking every three feet, I try to remember it's likely because he's house trained and has been holding his feces and urine until somebody finally gets him outside. The first five minutes of dirt under his feet are spent sniffing and spinning and pulling in order to find the RIGHT place to have a poo. Seriously, dogs can be very picky about where they go, and they sometimes use it as an additional scent mark. One funny bugger I walk insists on hovering over a few thorny canes in the brush. I wince every time I watch him do it, and collecting the remains for disposal is no picnic either when thorns are involved. However, if after we've managed a good bathroom break and my charge is still obsessively nose down, spinning like a top and pulling like mad on the leash, I head straight for a peaceful spot on the property with a bench and some grass and get down to the business of helping Mr. or Ms. Obsessive relax enough to enjoy some companionship and calm (weather willing). The most effective tool in my bag for this is a simple doggy massage. I usually start at the chest for a nice kind of good rub, then work my way up to the spine, scrunching and rubbing in the direction of fur growth and end up giving the area above his tail and down his haunches a really scrumptious rubby scratchy, make 'em wiggle massage. I often murmur words of praise in a soft and low voice, never squeaky, squeaky leads to hyper or playful activity, and whispering can do the same. Even the most scattered and stressed out dogs usually respond to this. Some within seconds, others take a little longer. Yesterday it took Spud, a whirling dervish in his kennel and not much better outside, a good 30 minutes to finally let his ears drop, pay attention to me, and stop frantically looking around for trouble to get into even while his butt and back legs were saying " Ooooooh, that feels so good I could fall over".

Once you get into the process, you can see in their eyes that they've suddenly realized there's a loving, calm human on the other end of the leash. Their pupils become more normal, ears usually drop back and they'll sit down on their own. It's then the distractions of "BEING OUTSIDE", and the attendant frantic antics slowly start to fade into the background. It's quite funny to watch sometimes; a look of complete surprise that you're there at all, as if you were merely an object holding him back from something, whatever that something is for him every other nanosecond.

It can be an extremely rewarding, and healthy, experience for the both of you. I love, love, love to watch them soften bit by bit until they're basically little droopy pools of fuzzy relaxation leaning against my thigh, head resting politely on one knee. I swear I've come close to a catnap or two, sitting under a warm spring sun with a now human-attentive and adoring pooch half asleep at my feet.

This can all be accomplished in as little as 15 minutes or so. I extend the experience as long as I can depending on how many of his or her shelter-mates still need to get outside. Once we've achieved at least a couple of minutes of genuine calmness together -- calm being a relative term depending on the personality of my companion -- we finish the walk. I always try to get up and get going before his nibs decides to do so for himself. For some of the dogs, the walk turns into a nice stroll around the property and back to the kennel. For the really hyper ones, it's often back to "I WANT TO GO OVER THERE NOW", but still with less intensity, and far more awareness of your presence. And for the shy ones it's a time for them to experience being outside, a place they don't want to go, in a calmer state. Startling noises, scary leaves blowing around, other animals or whatever their particular phobia is begin to take on less of a bogeyman quality.

The BEST times are when they spend the rest of the walk close to you, looking up at you adoringly, basically asking you to give them some directions. MAN that feels good.

Here comes the safety part. It's important, read it.

Temperament evaluaters and behaviorists aren't dog mind readers and they may not catch a hidden trigger in a dog they have no background information on in spite of their expert efforts. You need to remember that with every new dog you encounter in the shelter.

Before you go about the enjoyable task of giving a dog a massage, make quite certain they've not recently had surgery, you might get yourself a warning nip if you come too close to a sore spot. But your greatest concern is that some dogs don't like being touched in certain places AT ALL. Start slow with dogs you're not familiar with. For many it's the ears or paws that upset them. But arthritis in older dogs can also be an issue, particularly in the spine and hips. Be very gentle at first. If your companion is sitting, mouth in an open and relaxed position, tongue out and breathing or panting normally, it's going well.

For some of the bigger, gladiator breeds, looming over the shoulder area, or firmly placing your hands/arms across that part of the back, is a bald gesture of dominance on your part, for both males and some females. If you're unsure of a new dog, don't go there at all until you know him/her better. Stick with chest and booty rubs to be safe. Also, you may believe your walk-mate is enjoying the massage when in reality he/she is merely tolerating it until they've had enough. Not all dogs, or breeds for that matter, bother with warning barks or snaps or growls, they just make sure you understand immediately that you are NOT in charge by giving you a good bite that seems to explode out of nowhere. If you feel tense yourself for any reason, that makes it worse, or may be an extra trigger. Dogs might make you feel better, but shelter dogs are not fuzzy Valium, stick to walking only when you're having a tense day.

The worst attacks from confidently dominant dogs are often precluded by complete silence and stillness and are explosive in nature. Watch for a closed mouth, sometimes lip licking (theirs, not yours), obvious body tension and "the eye". It's hard to explain that last bit, but generally what you'll get is a "corner of the eye" kind of glare. Not to be mistaken with a closed-mouth, submissive and adoring look from a low position. You'll know the difference. Do not ever attempt to use dominance or discipline to correct the behavior, it's a recipe for absolute disaster in a shelter setting. Calmly stop what you're doing, don't try to "calm" the dog with high-voiced reassurances, what I call "cooing"s, in fact don't speak at all, turn your face and eyes away enough to stop being a threat, but still keep your face visible and be sure you can still tell what they're doing. Dogs read our faces, and our eyes in particular, like expert cartographers looking at a map and he/she will need to see a calm, even disinterested face to read you right and back himself out of a potential attack. If you're sitting, get up confidently at a normal speed as if the incident never occurred and walk calmly and confidently in whatever direction you need to in order to be next to the animal or behind him, never in front with your back turned. Make your way to the closest person or entrance to the shelter and calmly ask someone to accompany you and the dog back to the kennel. Many breeds have a strong prey drive and turning your back and moving quickly simply triggers the instinct to chase. If you have to, drop the leash and let the dog go wherever he likes. Don't follow him, and don't run from him where he can see you. Once you're sure he's out of site, beat feet back to the shelter and raise the alarm (not in front of adopters if you can avoid it). The shelter staff and animal patrol will know how to wrangle him up.

Usually the episode will pass very quickly if you don't escalate the situation with a fear response. Before you even begin a walk, pick your favorite confident leader-type character from history or a movie, whatever, and visualize yourself as that person, this is a tremendous help in remaining calm and collected when any kind of incident occurs.

The good news is I have never personally experienced this situation with the bigger dogs, not even close to it, but I've seen it happen to others at other shelters. It's the toy and teacup stinkers that get a tooth in more often because we treat them like toys and forget they have teeth.

Lastly, report the behavior to whomever it is you're supposed to report to and do NOT allow that person to brush you off by suggesting that you simply stop walking that particular dog. It suggests that you're the problem, which might be true, but that's not the point. At the very least the dog should be reevaluated to see if the aggression response can be triggered again by someone else. Go over that person's head if you have to and ALWAYS report any kind of incident to the Vet in residence if your shelter is lucky enough to have one.

Now that I've scared the pee out of you....try to have fun.

Let's Talk About Sex , Overpopulation and Recidivism, shall we?

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 06:16:00 +0000

I'll start in the middle. Overpopulation. If we're talking about animals in particular rather than the creeping infestation of our planet by mostly furless bipeds (the guy at the pool sporting a full pelt notwithstanding), then we're most likely discussing the severe and continuing problem of gonad intact cats and dogs and their ability to produce multiple copies of themselves at a frightening rate. Intact family dogs, who are rarely as sneaky or clever as intact family cats, nevertheless seem to posses a secret button to some sort of canine teleporter that allows them to hook up, (you may wince at my mildly dirty puns if you like) in spite of our best efforts to keep them apart. I like to imagine the popular phrase, "Beam me up Scotty", was originally written into a certain sci-fi television script as, "Who beamed up the damned Scotty?!" after the writer found his pearly white Westy under the bed giving birth to onyx black puppies.

My own darling pack-founding pit bull, Asia, whose excellent blood-lines could be traced back to the turn of the century, managed to get herself knocked up through an 8-foot chain-link fence, her first season no less. All bitches in season are absolute hussies when the pickin's are slim so I had absolutely no confidence in her choice of paramour.

She was fairly typical as far as purebred pit bulls go. Beautiful, compact, proportionately put together well, almost dainty, as many pit bull females are. She had a beautiful tawny brown coat, and sported black Cleopatra eye-liner to die for.

The puppies she whelped were ridiculously large compared to their mother, heavily furred, kinda wrinkly-fat, and had faces only a mother could love, which she did, of course. I, on the other hand, was horrified, if secretly smitten, by the appearance of their Sasquatch cuteness. I'm fiercely against cross-breeding when it comes to the gladiators of the domestic canine family, particularly pit bulls. But that's a whole 'nother Blog entry.

I had what I considered a serious dilemma on my hands. What to do with eight mixed-breed pit bull puppies whose paternal lineage was entirely in question. My favorite suspect for baby daddy, considering their size, coat, and odd head shape, was a chicken-killing, horse-chasing, neighbor-menacing, child-flattening, stroller-tipping, goat-harassing Goliath of a Malamute mix(120 lbs easily) that lived a few acres behind us.

You can imagine why I was so upset, can't you? Sasquatch cuteness be damned. This was baaaaad.

1. Consider the suspect dog's temperament. I could only hope it was nurture, and not nature that made him so awful.
2. Consider the temperament of a purebred pit bull: Yes, an almost goofy, unwavering devotion to hanging out with unfurry bipeds, whether friend or stranger; an amazing work ethic and a natural propensity to be calm and well-mannered. But let us not forget to factor in an amazingly high tolerance for pain, a bite any shark would envy and an almost giddy, even flirtatious desire to pick fights if not socialized properly.
3. If the DNA mix went against me, I had eight potentially lethal little stinkers on my hands.

Do I keep all eight puppies with the family until I'm sure they're properly socialized, been desexified (not cheap), can reasonably gauge their adult temperaments AND find EIGHT OWNERS who can be trusted to raise them with a diligent eye on their temperament? Yes. Do you know how much WORK that is? Of course you do. But I had no choice. Why? Because any other course of action would most likely have resulted in the very issue we are still facing in the 21st century in spite of 35 years spent spreading the gospel of Saint Fixyerpet. To whit, irresponsibly or accidentally bred puppies, in their thousands, being pulled from their mother and siblings long before they've learned anything about being a good pack member, sometimes as young as 6 weeks old, and dropped into the hands of adoring, and often clueless, owners. Mind you, probably the most critical time of their puppyhood and learning curve is looming ahead. The time when they learn good social skills and how to navigate the world outside their den without mishap and fear.

Some of those puppies will get lucky and have families who take them to puppy class and get them socialized, walk them daily for more than the amount of time it takes to pooh, teach them good dog manners, get them fixed and love them for EVER.

Some of those puppies aren't going to be quite so lucky and will grow up with little help or interest from their owners, banished from the house for "bad behavior", often chained up and barking mad, mostly ignored by their once adoring family until the day they die.

Some of those puppies will grow up with such severe behavior issues born of owner ignorance and bad breeding that they're simply thrown out on the street like yesterday's newspaper. Around here they dump them on remote country roads.

Of those abandoned dogs, some will end up in a pound, and dead shortly thereafter; a lucky few will make it to a foster home, a last-chance ranch, a breed rescue group, or the rare No-Kill shelter.

Simplified overview of just one issue, but accurate just the same.

And this is where we come to the end bit, the part of all this that keeps me awake at night: the dogs that keep coming back.

It's the achingly difficult task of ignoring the most prevalent part of my personality every time I walk into our No-Kill shelter to do the volunteer work I signed up for, but couldn't have known would be so emotionally wrenching. It doesn't sound like much. I walk the dogs considered adoptable. It's a two-hour shift, twice a week. All I'm asked to do is walk the dogs. But it isn't that simple. Not for me, not for any of the volunteers who understand what we're really doing, and the opportunities we're missing.   I can't even figure out how to express why it's so emotionally hard to do without sounding like the shelter is a bad place. It's not a bad place. They do amazing work, mostly for very little pay. The place is always filled with animal-loving volunteers. They have a mission and a vision and work like mad to further it. They sacrifice time and space at home to do their best for the animals. They raise money, fight petty bureaucratic legislation, go to court, defend the defenseless, every day. They're good, brilliant, animal-wise people. I admire them.

And yet, and yet... I feel and hear and smell and see so much misery in those kennels. I don't want to go anymore.   I can't look into their eyes sometimes. And it would take more than the flat empty space of this page for me to explain it to you properly. Then again, perhaps you already understand.

I'll be at the shelter in the morning, walking dogs. How could I not?

No snivelling today, Look for the Heroes

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 04:13:00 +0000

Among the many things I am passionate about, the things that give me joy, is owning the privilege of watching my fellow humans do the most amazingly unselfish, self-sacrificing, difficult, dangerous and too often death-defying things on behalf of complete strangers and animals alike. I envy their stamina for staying in the good-deeds department day in and day out. There is so much to do, so very much that I sometimes think my heart will shatter under the weight of it all.

In no particular order of adoration I offer Jane Goodall, the Dalai Lama, my father Christie Kiefer, the Monks of New Skete, Jacques-Yves Cousteau, Cesar and Ilusion Millan, Wendell Berry, and my partner, who lovingly supports my attempts to share some coherent scribbling with you, and confesses shameless gratitude that I've moved my rants out of the living room and into a Blog.

Frankly, there are plenty of days when I would rather stay in bed and watch Lassie reruns, eat bon bons (Sees’ Candy variety if you’re ever inclined), take a nap, seduce my partner back into bed, read trash, take another nap and pretend that what really counts is that my little circle of family and friends are mostly safe and perfectly okay without me. Which they usually are anyway, but that’s not the point. It’s NOT enough to feel your conscience only when the next horror story downloads itself into your private little inbox. You must make a difference, no matter how small you think it is. The smallest gesture of love and sacrifice can save a life without you ever knowing it. I’m pretty sure you get pink clouds at sunset for that kind of act. Pretty nifty payback.

So okay, sometimes, I DO stay in bed and pretend. I’m entitled to a walloping good bad day as much as the
next pasty, winter-weary slouch. Or so I tell myself. Usually about the time I’ve got my pillows arranged just so, something will drop into my mental inbox that makes me wince with guilt and a dab of fear for playing procrastination roulette with life, and I drag my lazy bones out of bed, gather up my bon bons, look longingly at the nice warm spot my partner had the gumption to vacate before I did and whine my privileged ass downstairs to do the work of living mindfully, thoughtfully and compassionately. This is FAR more work than you might imagine for me. Fumbling attempts at sarcasm and a questionable grasp of cynicism’s concepts are so much easier to put out there. And I’m lazy. Really. Whole new level of laziness most of you will never accomplish. If my mother were still around she’d make a point of letting you know how lazy I am. Which reminds me, just because something is TRUE doesn’t mean you should repeat it within earshot of the guilty party. I’d much rather people talk behind my back.

So, my lesson to myself today was to remember my heroes, and try to make a difference. It is in that spirit I share with you the names of just some of the people I worship, more than bon bons even.

I think I shall make one day a week hero-sharing day.

Yes, I'm Trying to Seduce You

noreply@blogger.com (Katrina Kiefer) — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 21:28:00 +0000

I am no more, no less, than a woman with just enough chutzpa to think I might make a difference in a world that seems to need so much more talent and brains than I have on offer. I also own up to a generous dollop of Pollyanna naiveté that lets me go on thinking anyone cares. Both traits have served me delightfully well all my life.

I'm an empathetic, scatterbrained know-it-all who secretly believes she really doesn't know a damn thing. However, it turns out I happen to know just enough to be a burr under the saddle of anything that smacks of prejudice, wastefulness, disregard, zealotry, unkindness, and plain ignorance. Which means I spend a lot of time being annoyed with myself. It helps that I seem to write well enough to make people either puce with indignation, or smile and nod happily to be sharing a similar point of view. Either way, my intent is to create enough of an itch to get people scratching,
paying more than sound-bite attention to what’s going on around them. Really paying attention. Seriously. I’m going for the kind of laser-like attention that encourages research, going to school, getting involved, volunteering, making a stink, crossing the line, pissing off powerful, well-intentioned nincompoops and creating alliances with fellow enlightened Fools. Think of me as a rash that will never go away.

If you’re smirking right now, I’ve already got a head start on that itch.

I’m far less interested in whether or not you agree with me than I am in engaging you in a genuine dialogue that leads to a whole new dimension of understanding on my part. I want you to show me the courtesy of an educated point of view, open my mind in such a way that I’m able to conceptualize an idea that would likely pass me by otherwise. Obviously I hope to sneak some new ideas into your gray matter too.

Enter this little blog. A toad’s tear in a sea of information and opinions. If you’re here right now it means I’ve either badgered you into it because you were silly enough to give me your email address once, or you’ve somehow seen the ripple and decided to come calling at my pond. Welcome, I'm listening.