Dog Ugly?

A fellow dog blogger, who will remain anonymous, has declaired my 3dogs as ugly. "Ugly" a direct quote from his mouth to my ears. Now I ask you, does a REAL dog lover ever think any dog is ugly? He came about his dog late in life, well okay, in his mid-fourties. But up until then, I don't think he had any great love for four legged creatures...though to be fair, that is my thought, not his. And I wonder, how you can look at a dog, I mean really look at a dog, in their eyes, see and feel their unconditional love and think they are ugly? Of course, we always love and adore what is closest to us. And I can honestly say that this anonymous blogger loves and adores his dog. But does that warrant the comment that mine are ugly?

Fourteen paw reunion

After three weeks of separation, we're all home again. 3dogs were treated to a big walk in the cemetery and bones all around. Hmm, no pun intended. Madison wasn't too happy to be pushed from his lofty solo bed position my first night home. But three dogs quickly assumed the position and fell fast asleep. Must be nice to be off that hard cement "hotel" floor with bright lights and homesick puppies.

And the two extra paws --- those would be mine.

Paying It Forward...

3dogs have been living it up at the PetSmart hotel while I've been travelling around China. My intent was to participate in NoBloPoMo and blog my experiences (sans 3dogs) tromping around the mainland. Unfortunately, the mainland had other ideas. China is still a communist country and noblopomo, as well as blogger, were off limits. I could access google.cn, but that did not serve my quest to blog. I also had planned to do a bit of geocaching to drop off a panda bear TB* looking to visit China. Unfortunately, that site was blocked too, so I was unable to get any waypoints. Hmm, panda still sits in my luggage.

So my fellow dog blogger, Nat, aka Pappy's fella, recently began a new blog regarding art, or in this case: Nat Dickinson Doing Art. I love Nat's work (more recently he's been doing a portfolio on his dog's body parts), but I most enjoy his work detailing his beloved Deer Isle in Maine. We share a fondness for Maine. His art blog post for today talks about an emerging artist blogging about paying it forward. It being art. I was one of the first three to respond to Nat's Pay It Forward blog to receive one of his paintings. I in turn promise to pay it forward to the first three responders to this blog who also in turn promise to pay it forward, and in essence, creating a blogger's art exchange. I plan to post my recent photos from China on flickr within the next month. And the PIF respondent may chose a photo of their liking and I will frame it and send it on. Please forward a mailing address to 3dogcache@gmail.com.

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* A Travel Bug is a trackable item that moves from place to place, picking up stories along the way. Here you can add your own story, or live vicariously through each bug's adventures.

Development DoggieSpace?

A while back ago a few former colleagues here at the Bank left to begin their own non-profit, the Development Marketspace, now known as GlobalGiving. I'm not sure for the name change, except that a developing country is now referred to by its emerging market. In my childhood they were known as 3rd world. Or perhaps the name was too close to Development Marketplace, a grassroots seed funding initiative Dennis and Mari started here in the Bank almost ten years ago. Personally I think one of the better initiatives of the Bank. But enough of tooting the horn of Dennis and Mari.

But that led me to wondering if there were any organizations for helping developing countries with their animal welfare systems. I googled International Dog Aid and Rescue. The ones that caught my eye were IFAW, dog aid international, IAKA and International Dog Rescue. And yes, they are all set up to take your donations online to help those less fortunate Canis lupus familiaris around the globe. I guess there are Development DoggieSpaces so to speak.

Calvin

Calvin is a German Shepherd mix breed belonging to my neighbors. I have known Cal since he came to live with "the parents" when he was about a year old. Their son, then a student at Syracuse University, acquired him as a pup. One can only assume the life he led in a house filled with young "enthusiastic" college boys. "Hmm, let's get a dog." "yeah dude, what a great idea...he can be the house dog." If memory serves me, his litter mate got hit by a car and died as the two of them went flying across a street. Anyway, to the dismay of most of the neighbors, Cal came to be a permanent resident on our Capitol Hill street.

And Calvin lived up to the hype of German Shepherds. He couldn't be trusted around other dogs or people for fear of a bite. His barks and growls were not for show, but a warning of what could follow. As he got older, his territory became more sacred and thus his guard instincts stronger. One could not walk into their house without being accosted by a barking growling dog.

But that does not mean he did not have a sweet side. I myself never had a problem with Cal. Nor did my numerous dogs over the years. Even my cats got along with Cal. The trick was to socialize him outside of his house and without the P's anywhere near. He got along with Tisha, Teddy, Scout, Andy, Ellie, Pig, Madison, Stevie and Jack. And when the P's bought a house in the country, his list of friends and doggie companions doubled.

He did have his moments though. Many times Cal would come over and stay at my house while the P's were out of town, or it was the maid's "day." Because I didn't have a problem with Cal and no one in my house had a problem with Cal, well we went on as usual. That caused more than a few problems. Mainly my fault. My neighbor Billy tried to hit Cal upside the head with a two by six when I accidentally left him out in the front yard unattended. My mother, in the middle stages of Alzheimer's, came out to garden. And while Cal had left her alone while she was in the yard, the second she was outside the yard pulling weeds through the fence...well he growled and guarded and would not let her back in the yard. Billy went wild. My mother was fine, she just wanted to come back in the yard and finish gardening. Billy, on the other hand, was a shaken mess and demanded the dog be put down right then and there. Fear does terrible things to people.

Then there was the time when I was walking Cal and I mistakenly thought the man with the boxer pup said the two of them were friends. I let Cal off his leash and in one svelte swoop he was on top of that poor dog. I did what you should never do and stuck my hands and feet in the middle of the fight to drag Cal off him. I still have the scar from that mishap.

But I chalk most of these encounters of aggression as being my fault. I didn't see him as a threat so I didn't take the necessary precautions that the "P's" did. The Maggot has changed all that. I'm always aware there is a chance that she may do that head twist and spew, so I always keep a close eye on her. It doesn't diminish my love for her, or the extra effort needed to walk her and take her to a dog park.

A fellow blogger recently asked me "if it should be that hard to have a dog?" I wondered if we had been talking about children, or relationships with others if that question would arise. We love whom we love and we put effort into the relationships we value including our not so perfect pets.

I walked Calvin last night. He is thirteen years old. His bark is no longer ferocious and his gait is weak and wobbly. His hips are not strong enough to hold him through his bowel and bladder releases, so he has what I call the travelling pee and poop. Remembering how hard it was to euthanize my 16 year old terrier mutt a couple years back, I recently asked one of the P's if she had anxiety about Cal's age and deterioration. In her typical pragmatic fashion, which I love and admire, she commented that it was what it was and when his pain began overshadowing his quality of life, well then it would become a different situation.

Maggie Moo

I've been spending a lot of alone time with the Maggot and she is not the wildebeest I thought her to be. As a matter of fact, she learns and trains quite quickly and is very manageable both on a leash and when left free in the house. Ahh, but there is one catch. Ellie and Andy can be no where near or it quickly dissolves into the three of them determining their pecking order and totally ignoring me and my commands. What I've also noticed, is that if I spend time alone with Ellie, she too listens quite well. Perhaps I need to take the advice I give my clients: bonding with your dog means taking the time to totally focus your attention on him/her so they learn to focus on you.

"Marly and Me"

I just finished reading Marly and Me by John Grogan and loved it. I told one of my dog blogging friends who also happens to be a colleague that I was reading it and he commented that it was not a good read, he got bored and Grogan didn't know how to write. Of course, he said all this before I finished the book. Despite my colleague's thumbs down review, I finished it up and loved it. I then realized that my cynical colleague writes about his dog in the same way that Grogan does...with warmth and humor.

3dog's Time Capsule

I've been tagged by Pappy's fella to list five items that 3dog's would want in their time capsule. It took a bit of time to decide whether it would be five items alone, or 15 items --- five for each dog. I know Ellie would only want one item included --- a tennis ball. And the AndDog, he would comply by only asking that a human be included so every dog in the future would know the importance of sitting on a lap and snuggling. I explained that we could not actually put in a human being, but a picture of him snuggling with me would do. But Maggie, my materialistic girl, well she would have a list as long as I would keep writing. Mine, mine, mine --- all mine is her motto. But after a lot of consideration, the five items we would place in the time capsule would be:

1. Tennis balls
2. A picture of AndDog snuggling with me
3. Liver Kong goo: yes, they will do anything I want as long as I stick that synthetic nipple in their mouth and let them suck on that oh so tasty goo
4. Frozen marrow bones: The Maggot can focus on that thing until the cows come home. Actually, so can Ellie and Andy Sort of like sitting a toddler in front of the tube...very important for them and me.
5. Freedom. Not sure how this would be included in the time capsule, but the one thing 3dog's totally enjoy is running and sniffing without a handler on the other end. Mountains, lakes, cemeteries...it is pure heaven.

--"You can’t separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom.""Prospects for Freedom in 1965," speech, Jan. 7 1965, New York City (published in Malcolm X Speaks, ch. 12, 1965).

Amherst

3dogs and I are spending our nation's birthday in the quaint little town of Amherst, New Hampshire. We drove up last night, spending a couple hours catching a bit of shuteye in a rest station somewhere in Connecticut. It was a bit cramped, but we somehow managed to all sleep. The lean green kiwi machine is actually quite conducive to snoozing.

My friend and her daughter have been living up here for the past six years. Cocoa is their chocolate lab whom at 1 1/2 years is much calmer than the El Bell. I've been a regular to New Hampshire and Maine for the last 16 years. My desire is to live where my parent's retired...Bridgton, Maine, another quaint New England town. Hmm, is there anything else but quaint New England towns? But Bridgton, unlike Amherst, offers me quick access to the mountains that I love to hike and ski, the shore where I love to walk aimlessly with 3dogs. And being that the town is nestle between lakes, there is no growing metropolis nearby. In the six year years that I've been coming to Amherst the twelve plus miles to get here from Nashua has filled up with Home Depot, Loews, Pet Smart, multiple grocery stores, and of course, the New England favorite, Duncan Donuts.

Now I've been promised that the Amherst 4th of parade will have a few of our next presidential candidates walking the route. Apparently in 2002, they had Kerry, Edwards, and a few other heavy hitters from that "other" side of the political arena. I'm hoping to shake a few big name hands, but apparently one never knows until the last moment who will be participating.

4dogcache?

Meet Booker. The latest to join the crew on 8th Street. He is an inquisitive 11 month old min pin. And though he is very cute, smart and lovable...luckily, he is not mine. 3dogs keep me busy enough without adding a fourth to their mix. Not that it would be impossible, but difficult. But Booker has actually melted into the pot quite well. His bouncing off walls and anything between makes him the perfect tennis ball-esque plaything for Ellie. Maggie too enjoys romping with him now and again.

But it is Andy who has taken Booker's arrival with a hint of disconcerting ire. Being that he was a single dog for an entire two weeks gives him top dog entitlement. He tolerated Ellie's arrival and her constantly hanging onto his neck. Eventually they became soul mates. Maggie wasn't so easy to accept. When she was a puppy he maintained his status, but as she grew in size it took more than a few scrapes to settle top dog position. The Maggot winning out. And now, god forbid, another dog to contend with; and a dog that never stops moving. It's only been a month, but Andy still growls and pounces on Booker as if he is an annoying little insect.

I'm not use to small dogs. I have always had dalmatians, labs or mutts all weighing in over 50 lbs. Mags is the largest dog I have raised, and at 16 months she's still packing weight onto her solid 90 lb frame. So Booker, who at the most probably tops out at 9 or 10 pounds, is quite the novelty for me.

Please let me in...

Poor Maggie Moo. She sat so still and was so quiet with this "poor poor me" pathetic look, but still she was unable to enjoy my nephew's fifth birthday party. And when by mere accident my Aunt (she's a vet and just wanted to say hi to the Maggot) let her in, my step-mother (read anti anything with fur or four legs) gritted her teeth as we all tried to coral Mags back to her spot outside BEHIND the door.

Kiki

3dogs stayed in DC this past week while I headed down to Hilton Head for a week of sun, fun and geocaching. I met this bird Kiki while brunching at The Salty Dog on Sea Pines Plantation. She kept staring at my camera so I snapped this shot of her just before she tried to attack my camera. Ack. Her screeching made me jump.

And I'm not really a fan of the Head since I was there last in 1992 when development and commercialism were multiplying faster than indigenous folks could be displaced. But when a friend of mine invited me to accompany her while she attended a medical conference in Palmetto Dunes. Well hey, why not go. A bit too above my taste, and 3dogs were definitely not welcomed. But because we did a lot of geocaching in parks and out of the way spots, we did see a lot of the island and beyond that most visitors probably do not get a chance to visit. That was nice. As was our day in Savannah following "the caches" all over town.

Tradition

Hot dogs, beer and America's favorite pastime. It has become tradition. My sister Beth, Ally and myself sit in the sun for three hours and watch the Nationals play on Opening Day. This past Monday was a bust for the Nats. But the beer was cold and the sun was warm so we were happy.

And speaking of beer, someone at RFK made the executive decision to stop selling beer in bottles. Now Beth and Ally love bottled beer, especially the lite kind. I, on the hand, prefer draft and something a little heavier --- Guinness, Harp, or an IPA will do. And lucky for me, the vendors at RFK have met my needs. When we arrived at the game on Monday I volunteered to get the first round. Remember, hot dogs, baseball AND BEER. So off I went in pursuit of the perfect draft and a couple of those lite bottles. I immediately found an IPA and began to quench my thirst. But those bottles, well they were no where to be found. Finally I asked a vendor where I could buy some bottled beer. He curtly responded --- no where. He was too busy pouring beer to be bothered with a petty question. I mean, beer is beer right? I don't think so.

Well after a long search I came up empty. So I hit the stands to see if there was a beer man selling bottles. Nope, only cans. When I questioned why he said they got sick of cleaning up bottles. So, is it easier to clean up plastic cups? And what about bottled water which is still sold? What, people who drink water won't trash the bottle in the stands? But in the end, to Beth and Ally's delight, there was one place that sold bottles.

I must admit though, it was a bittersweet experience. This will be the last opening day we spend in RFK. I won't be able to walk the ten blocks to the stadium. Or when I'm being excessively lazy --- drive and park because I have one sweet Zone 6 sticker on my windshield. I'm not even sure what Zone the new stadium is in, but I do know it will be a subway ride away. And they certainly are wasting no time putting that baby up. When I drive down the southeast southwest freeway I can see the upper deck reaching into the sky. Fans will certainly have a birds eye view of our Nation's Capitol. Ahh, change is hard.

Ahh, the sweet smell of Spring

Well, that daily blog idea didn't really happen this past month. Hmm, 3dogs aren't too happy with me either. Sporadic jaunts to the cemetery don't add up. And the puny walks they do get give them very little marking and sniffing time in the outside world. None of us are very happy. But it is Spring and the air is warm; flowers poking up and blooms on the trees. Achoo. Yes, we are all sneezing.

But on to more important things. I have located a long lost relative of the Papsters. Tater, I know --- the name is a bit beyond my taste too, came into PetSmart the other day looking for a trainer. That would be me. His "pet parents" as the Smart likes to address pet owners, had just adopted him and had heard that I would be able to help them and him. I immediately fell in love with him. He reminded me of my favorite puppy dog, Teddy. Teddy was my sweet boy, mixed terrier, that I found back in 1988 on South Carolina Avenue and 12th here on Capitol Hill. He was the best boy and lived to the ripe old age of 16. Tater had obviously had some training and promptly sat on command. It was as though Teddy had been reincarnated.

But as I continued to play with the Tator, I realized he was more like a Pappy dog than a Teddy dog. Pappy tends to have all these jerky little movements and doesn't like to be held for too long, lest a ball might need to be sniffed out. Teddy was a lover, and would just snuggle up for hugs and kisses.

I dubbed Tator " The White Pappy," signed him up for class and off he went to become leader of the dog park.

Andy...

A friend of mine just had a birthday party for her dog. Decorations, presents, a cake and even games and favors. Some people have way too much time on their hands. But having attended this party, I decided that I need to create a birthday for the Anddog. Maggie was born January 26, 2006, Ellie was born December 9, 2003, but Andy, well he was adopted. No one had a clue to when he was born. They guessed his age at the shelter, but my vet said they always predict younger so people think they are getting a puppy. I got him in August, 2003 and he could have been anywhere from six months to a year. So, I need to pick a day from August 2002 through January 2003. Any ideas?

Hot Yoga

I've been trying out this new exercise...hot yoga. Actually, I think the real name is Bikram Yoga. Anyway, the idea is to do twenty-six poses and two breathing exercises twice each in a room that is heated 105 degrees and humid. Ninety minutes in all. The first day, I tried to leave after an hour and they wouldn't let me leave. Yikes. Messing up the room's karma. The second day, two people felt sick and had to sit in the bathroom on the cold floor. But the third day, well I just felt fine. Though I am not at all able to actually complete or hold any of the poses, it is really cool to watch those who can. I go to a studio in Dupont Circle, but I think they are becoming very popular and popping up everywhere.

I was thinking as I was watching Ellie do her flipping twist all catch if that is a kind of Yoga for her. She certainly does sweat. And today, after romping in the cemetery, the Maggot plopped into a pose on the ground. She'd probably like hot yoga since she from South Africa --- all that heat and humidity. She absolutely hates the cold weather.

Why do they do THAT?

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in those little heads when I'm not around to entertain 3dogs. And in the case of Maggie...her big head. Since the Maggot's first birthday this past January, she has had more freedom. She is house trained and doesn't seem to want to gobble up everything in her sight. So if I'm taking a shower or making dinner, doing laundry...whatever, I let her and the brown one hang upstairs for twenty minutes or so. Ellie just plays with her toys or romps noisily with Mags. But this morning, I went to take a shower, and when I returned there were half chewed razor blades all over floor. RAZOR BLADES! No blood, no cuts that I could see. Just three chewed triple blade razor cartridges, the soap surrounding having been gobbled up. As I was leaving for work, I noticed a dog had regurgitated in the corner of the bedroom ---- bubbly soap. UGH. What was she thinking?

We're dreaming...

of everything green and colorful. And with daylight savings time (DST) coming this weekend, well we can only keep dreaming. So when I stepped out this morning with 3dogs I thought of the warm balmy long first day of DST. That first Sunday after the night of "springing forward" still amazes me to this day, when 5:30 - 6:00pm comes around and the sun is not setting. 7:00pm and I'm still seeing daylight. The next day, I leave work to a sky filled with light.

But this morning when I was dreaming of that balmy day, I was hit with an unwelcome blast of cold air against my cheeks. And tomorrow it is suppose to snow. How are we to enjoy this springing forward, if there is no spring to go forwards towards? It just isn't natural. Maybe I should move to Arizona where some intelligent law person decided that foolin' with time was just plain bad.

Monster dog?

When I look at Maggie I only see sweetness, cuteness and a bundle of love. I seem to be in the minority. The last couple weeks I have had complete strangers come up to me while I am walking the dogs, and keeping their distance ask me what kind of dog she is usually adding that she is very scary looking. I respond that she is a boerboel, also known as a south african mastiff. And then immediately show them how docile she really is, having her demonstrate "the hug." This convinces them that she really is very sweet and it must be okay to pet her. She then tries to give them a hug. See, all sugar and spice and everything nice.

Well, maybe. She has had a few adverse reactions to some select people --- read very BIG BIG MEN. And of course, those kitties in the cages at the SMART can be very intimidating.

Global Warming...

or is this happening just to make me crazy. The weather yesterday was balmy sunny and close to sixty degrees. 3dogs and I had a wonderful walk on the mall (no, not shopping mall but rather the National Mall, the land area between the U.S. Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial), and even had a bit of a dip in the pool in front of the Capitol. But today. Brrrrr, it is only in the low 30's and there is a fierce wind to make it feel like your face is turning to ice. Maggie's lost her head over the whole change...

Anatomically correct snow people?

Snow Ball

After the snow the other day, I decided to let the dogs play in one of the squares on Capitol Hill. It was late and I figured they'd just sniff and wander over the snow trodden ground. But "the nose" immediately sniffed out a tennis ball and dropped it at my feet. I didn't want to pick it up and risk freezing my bare hands so I kicked it like a soccer ball. Oddly enough, it went flying; the snow acting like a tee.

Ellie and Maggie followed in hot pursuit, Ellie sniffing like crazy trying to locate the ball in the snow, and Maggie doing some type of snow slide behind her. Eventually a snow covered ball would be dropped at my feet to begin the process all over again. It was quite engaging for all of us. All of us except Andy, who sniffed and wandered in peace.

March Madness...

I've been a bit behind on the 3dog's blog but I've decided to meet a challenge of a blog a day for the month of March. Not an official blog month...just a personal goal.

And we had a surprise snow storm the other day leaving us with six inches of snowball making snow. The next day it warmed up and many of the creations from the day before melted into some interesting formations. One reminded me of my favorite comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. Calvin would build all these horrid snow scenes with snowmen. Ah, fond memories. I do miss that strip.

Beware of Owner...

Maggie quietly turned one year on January 26th. Yes, I must admit, there could have been fanfare, a party, gifts and the whole shebang...but being such a frigid week I just couldn't muster up the energy last week. I didn't totally forget the Maggot's birthday. She did get a few knuckle bones to chomp on and I promised her as soon as it is above freezing (it's 20 degrees with a wind chill of 5 right now) I would take her to her favorite place to romp, the beach.

As I write, Maggie is knotted in a ball pushed up against my left side and Ellie is knotted on my right side. Dog3 is knotted in a ball on the couch downstairs. Our walking schedule has come to a halt since a bit of an incident the other night. 3dogs and I were walking back from the dog park. Everyone was pretty subdued since we had just spent a good hour playing...Maggie rough housing with the big dogs, Ellie focused on her ball, and Andy just trying to find a pair of warm hands to cuddle with. As we were about to cross 8th Street at East Capitol Maggie decided to stop and smell something --- right in front of me. Of course, I was lost in thought and didn't catch sight of this sudden road block sending me flying, literally, right off the curb onto all fours. I attribute the extra hard pavement and frigid cold (NOT my aging bones) to the pain that spiked through my body as I went splat. Luckily, I wasn't crossing against traffic. On impact, I dropped Ellie and Andy's leashes and they continued on their way, while the Maggot was the only one who turned around to see if her Mommy was going to live (ahh, lest a bit of melodrama).

I stood up, brushed off the pain and ego lost, caught up with 2dogs, and continued on my way home. I am hopeful that I did not re-tear my ACL and according to my doc, I did not. Just a bruised shin, maybe a small tear in my quadricep and an order to restrict my activities --- read no walking --- for 48 hours. So, that pretty much does it for 3dogs walking activities. Though I might be able to get them to the cemetery and let them walk.

But then there is that cold thing happening out there. Hmm, the blankets are pulling me under.

Leslie Lynch King, Jr

The other day, during the snow storm, 3dogs and I passed the Supreme Court and I snapped this pic of the flag flying half-mast in memory of President Gerald R. Ford, our 38th President. He was born Leslie Lynch King, Jr, but his parents divorced when he was very young and his mother remarried Gerald R. Ford, Sr., hence, the name he is best known by. Since his death, I've been reading a lot about his life and especially his years in the White House (or my favorite WhiteHouse) after Tricky Dicky (a pet name used by many a democrat back in those days --- or at least the only two democrats I hung around, my parents) was kicked out. Okay, I know he left on his own volition, but only because he KNEW he'd be screwed. Anyway, it seems that Leslie was an okay kind of dude...though at the time everyone was distraught over his pardon of the Dickman.

let it snow, let it snow, let it snow....

Ahh, the first snow of the season albeit only a two inch spread if that much. But 3dogs and I took a wonderful late evening walk and snapped some pics to send to Texas. He's sweating it out on the other side of the world.

TAXI ANYONE?

CAPITOL WHITEOUT
(Notice the funky fence and missing trees:-(( )



SUBWAY HEAT meets SNOWY 3DOGS

We have such pretty paw prints in the snow

Say goodbye to christmas trees...

What is it about almost dead and dead Christmas trees thrown out on the sidewalk waiting to be mulched up by the city that has 3dogs lifting legs and squatting to relieve themselves all over them?

Maggie and Bella

We met a new friend the other day while traipsing through Roosevelt Island...Bella. She was down on the beach fetching big sticks from the Potomac river. Maggie and Bella fell into this routine that reminded me of the controversial children's book I remember my mother reading to me as a small child "Little Black Sambo."

So the following sequence repeated itself numerous times:

THE FETCH

THE STARE

THE APPROACH

THE ATTACK

THE TAKE OFF

THE BLUR

THE BREAK

THE REFUEL

THE GANG BANG