Santa Baby

Merry Christmas everyone!! Just thought I would let everyone know that we found (beautiful) foster dog Rusty (below) a home. He got to stay with us over Christmas though, something about a dog door and an update for an invisible fence but he should be on his way anytime and although we'll be quite sad about that we wish him and his new family the very best. Because of him, Stella and I are back in the groove of walking 2-3 miles every morning and while most of our friends don't see that as a good thing (at 6am) we need the discipline and the exercise so it really was a gift. He's learned a million things over the last six weeks as well including how to walk past a cat without causing an explosion and how to drag a seventy pound pit bull around by the jaw. It was a mostly good experience having him, and Stella has never been happier in her life, except maybe that day when she and Diesel swam the creek  summer before last. She may need some counseling after he leaves but hopefully she'll adjust quickly. Meanwhile, we're still romping it up in the neighborhood every morning and making all the dogs go berserk in their own yards.

Hope you all and yours have a great day and a remarkable new year!!
Susan

Happy Good Friday

I can't begin to understand what dogs think but I know this for sure.
Stella has ideas about the Easter Bunny that aren't what we humans would consider sweet. In fact, I suspect they lean more toward the diabolical.

white eyelashes

She knows where he lives. 
He's been weed eating the back yard
for a couple of weeks now.   

She texted him:
STBY Bugz

He wasn't provoked.
 
No sign of Sunny the turtle.
She normally comes for Memorial Day but
I'm hoping she'll show up a little early this year. 
More on that later.

MTFBWY

Late Santa

Happy Halloween

from Stella and her foster boyfriend, Antonio.

New Years Revelation

We see you resolutionaries out walking/biking/running in celebration of the new year. We admire your pluck and sincerely hope you are successful this time, whether your priority is losing weight, toning up or lapping us on the turn. It is with that thought in mind that I am moved to offer the tiniest slivers of wisdom to a select few of you who are so clearly annoyed by the presence of someone walking a dog; a dog by the way, who would totally love to tag you on the heel as you trot by us but who chooses not to.
Here goes:

1. We were here first and we will be here long after you have given up.

2. We regularly collect your empty water bottles & your power bar wrappers and place them in the trash bins much like your mother must have done for you far into your twenties.

3. When you slam past us at top speed on your new $2000. bicycle, it scares the crap out of both of us. The first time, it's fine, I understand, perhaps you didn't know. The third time you do it - you should understand that I'm fantasizing about beating you senseless with your own bicycle pump. I'm not sure what Stella has in mind but I assume it's some action of equal or greater value.

4. My dog is not on Valium. When your child charges us on a Big Wheel you should expect a reaction that doesn't include fairy dust or butterflies.

5. Finally, I understand that you are on a mission. Your aim is to reduce stress, not create it. Therefore, I respectfully submit that you not spend your time making open fun of Stella's winter coat lest I remind you that your new walking/biking/running ensemble makes you an athlete in much the same way my cowboy boots make me a cowboy.

To the rest of you: It's great to have a little company in these long winter months. Hang in there, we wish you all the best!

Santa Paws

There was a time I would've rolled my eyes at the thought of someone spiffing up Fido and hauling him off to the pet supermarket to have his picture taken with Santa. I know now that it was stupid and short-sighted on my part. In my own defense - I never realized people did it for charity (not to mention fun) or I might have looked on the whole thing differently.

Fortunately, I remember exactly the moment when it all changed. It was a Sunday afternoon and I'd been hired by a local magazine to photograph a dog wedding. You read it right. A dog wedding. The wedding of a dog. To another dog. It was long before I had a dog myself. I had maintained the company of cats throughout my adulthood; in fact, there was no thought of ever having a dog and this particular assignment, I believed, would seal the deal from this point forward.

This is going to sound like I'm making it up but the bride, a Dachshund named Lucy, arrived in a horse drawn carriage. She was dressed as most brides are and her handsome beau Reno, also a Dachshund, stood with a small band of onlookers, sniffing the air as his dearly beloved arrived. Just beyond my own nose, the shutter methodically carved off frame after frame and I found myself not only looking for the perfect angle but cultivating the numerous ways by which I could effectively commit suicide.

After the ceremony, the guests enjoyed wedding cake, their canine companions - their little doggy party favors, the mother of the bride (and groom) approached me in the stable. She found me alone and chatting up her favorite horse. She thanked me for coming and asked if I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. I remember a loud humming noise in my head. I wished for some distraction, a stampede maybe, or a short-lived barn fire, but my wish wasn't granted and ever the diplomat, I drew in a deep breath and lied my ass off. The funny thing though was that when the words left my lips, it didn't feel like a lie at all.

"No, of course not," I said. "People love their animals like children. I totally understand.And, it's actually been fun."

I averted my head then and waited for the lightening bolt that would no doubt solve my suicide dilemma. I would miss my cat Louie, I thought. Louie had spent the last seven months on a death spiral of his own. Diagnosed with kidney disease, the vet had given me ample warning. She said I should enjoy my time with him and be prepared to say goodbye before the end of the year. I had said goodbye to him a number of times already, tearful and heartsick, wishing painfully for the miracle that would reverse his fortune, I told him everyday that if I could give him a kidney, I would. I meant it too. He was the animal love of my life and it was already October.

When the lightening came it wasn't exactly in the form I thought it would be. The mother of the bride spoke again. She said, "That dog [Reno] and that horse there behind you - have been with me through the darkest moments of my life. Nothing makes me happier than spending time with them. I'd do anything for them. Anything."

I got it. It all made sense. The spectacle, the funny costumes, toys, the best pet food, unbridled love and affection, even dogs themselves became symbolic of something bigger something more mature, that prior to this moment seemed quite the opposite. I was ashamed of myself but better for having realized it.

I wrote this nice woman a note after I got Stella. I thanked her and told her that she was part of the reason I decided to get a dog after all these many years. I asked if her dogs were still happily married. She assured me that they were and now each time I see her I'm reminded of that dark time in my own life, the loss of a magnificent cat on New Year's Eve, the marriage of two wiener dogs and the gift of a corn dog. My, how things have changed. Who could've predicted that just two and a half years later, I'd be shooting Santa pictures at PetSmart without thinking even once about driving off a bridge?

(Half of the proceeds went to the Nashville Cat Rescue, my own dog was terrified of Santa, we (the elves and I ) were nearly thrown out of Pet Smart for surrounding Santa with squeak beer bottles while he pretended to be passed out on the pedestal. I've saved that photo for your imagination... Happy New Year!)

Thankful

Yes, I am aware. Thanksgiving came and went. I've deprived you my friends, of countless wandering ethnographic tales (tails?) of clever canine adventure long enough. I won't bore you with the details of why we went on our hiatus (unless of course the effort proves fruitful in which case I probably won't shut up about it for months to come) however I do want to pick up where we left off with the general frolic that occurred on Thanksgiving Day and go from there.

We made a return visit to the cemetery with Christine and Professor K.'s dog pack. We parked a short distance away and when we walked through the gate Stella snapped to attention as her nose and eyes went into overdrive. She scanned the area, presumably hoping for movement, a sound, a tail flashing in the distance or a familiar bark. A few minutes later she got her wish and as the six of them (four dogs, two humans) filed through the gate she bucked like a little pony a couple of times before I could get her leash unclipped. There was no foolishness, no vandalism, all good, clean fun (and wild abandon) for the dogs, the humans and some of Nashville's oldest residents. We were thankful and remain so.

Some of you may remember that last time I neglected to include a photo of Linus. Some years back I got a call from Christine when a stray pit mix showed up in their neighborhood. She asked me to stop by and take a photo of him for Petfinders. They had no intention of keeping the dog. When I arrived she had already begun calling him Linus...

Almost Scary

Just wanted to let everyone know that all of the kittens have been adopted! Roy and Buck were adopted together and now there is only Minnie Pearl (the mama cat) left at PetSmart. I still have my fingers crossed for her. A couple of people have asked why anyone is adopting out black cats this time of year and the only answer I can come up with is that the fee for adoption is a hundred dollars. I'm thinking few people would be foolish enough to pay that kind of money and then mistreat the animal.

Here's a photo of my leaf carpet. Looking at it from this angle it's easy to understand why my neighbors might be a little intimidated. A good wind could really stir things up :)

Vehicular Dodgeball

I'm going to take some heat for this. I know it.

I made an observation recently that I decided to discuss here but before I started running my mouth about it I thought it might be wise to collect some evidence.

We live in a suburban neighborhood that was built in the fifties. Here in Tennessee, they've never really saw the need for sidewalks and our neighborhood is no exception. This puts Stella and I walking in the street. I noticed that as the cars are coming toward us, some of them slow down and move over a considerable distance and some of them don't. Some of them are speeding and some aren't, in fact some wave at us or nod or acknowledge that they've seen us. It may come as a surprise to some that those considerate, cautious, above average drivers - appeared to be of the male persuasion.

I know. It sounds crazy and I didn't want to believe it myself but yesterday morning during rush hour Stella and I carried a little note pad with us on our walk. To keep things simple (and lower our chances of being run over) we counted only ten men and ten women drivers, all of whom were obviously on their way to work. These results are preliminary, as being "on the way to work" is potentially a confounding variable and we here at Carny Dog like our data to be as pure as possible but here's what we found: All of the drivers we noted were inside the neighborhood; not on a main thoroughfare.

Eight out of ten men drivers slowed down and moved over.
Two out of ten women did.
All ten women were speeding.
One in ten men was speeding.
Six women were talking on their cell phones.
Zero men were.
Eight men made eye contact with us.
Zero women did.

Conclusion: Again, we can't draw any real conclusions but a couple of possibilities do come to mind:

1. Women are more likely to be late for work.
2. Men typically love dogs. And women*
3. Women think they're bulletproof - until something happens.
4. Men are naturally protective of themselves, women, animals and their cars.
5. Women are used to doing ten things at once.
6. Men pay attention to the road and are generally better drivers (eek!)
7. ?

What do you all think?

*It should be noted that I make no effort whatsoever to be cute at seven o'clock in the morning, I rarely wear shorts and am usually only whistled at by perverts and construction workers too far away to recognize that I could be their mother.

Meanwhile, there's some serious road blogging in our immediate future. If anyone out there has ideas about visiting our house while we're away, you should know that I've sublet it out to two bikers named Rebel and Loco. They've been instructed to shank first and ask questions later.

Just a note