Nadir, Nadir

I like saying "Nadir Nadir" in the "Nanu Nanu" voice of Robin Williams in the late 70s TV show "Mork & Mindy." I used to watch it on TV Land when I was little. Somehow it seems less menacing and makes me laugh in my head when I think of it this way.

Nadir is the term used to describe the time between rounds of chemo. It's when a chemotherapy patient is at his or her lowest. I never really heard anyone use it until recently but now I hear it all the time. I have been wallowing in my nadir all week. For me that has meant very low blood cell counts and with that comes very intense fatigue. My counts have been as bad this week as they were good last week.

How low is low? My white blood cells reached a low of 1.0 K/uL (reference range 4.1-10.9). My hematocrit, which indicates the amount of red blood cells, dropped to a low of 23.3% (reference range 37-51%). My platelets hit a new personal record dropping to 12 K/uL (reference range 140-440 K/uL).

This was a sudden and deeper than expected dive which has required Neupogen shots every day this week, a transfusion of two units of red blood cells on Thursday, then a transfusion of platelets on Friday. It is now Saturday and I am back in the hospital (as the clinic is closed on the weekend) to have my blood checked again and to get another Neupogen shot. This is all in an effort to assist my bone marrow (which is still recovering from the two autologous transplants) in bringing me back up to snuff so that I can receive more chemo as scheduled on Wednesday. Then the process starts all over ... .

When my red blood cells are low that means that the oxygen I need is not being efficiently carried around my body. When my platelets are low this means that my blood cannot properly clot nor heal cuts or bruises. The combination leaves me very weak, very tired and very mentally flighty. I can't handle more than one task at a time and I forget things just moments after I heard them. After a slow walk up the stairs my heart is racing and my breath is short as my body has to work extra hard to perform such a daunting task. I get so tired it hurts and I can do nothing else but lay there like a blob. Oddly though, sleep is hard to come by, I think because I'm so beyond exhausted. I'm haunted by nightmares and can't sleep through the night without having to go to the bathroom as my body is doing so much purging. My new plan is to try and choose one thing every day that I really want to do and save my energy up for that. i.e. if I know I want to take a walk then I can't expend all my energy doing laundry and dishes that morning. Otherwise, by 2 p.m. I'm spent. Dishes and laundry have yet to be the day's choice activity.

Getting out of this nadar requires a lot of time and a lot of waiting. It is a beautiful summer day out and here I am waiting for blood work results. It's been two-and-a-half hours. It's very likely that I won't need a transfusion but regardless I still have to wait and see that for certain.

It's frustrating at times because when time is so precious and I know I'm going to be trapped in a hospital for at least a month very soon, the cancer center or hospital is the last place that I want to spend my time. I want to be out in my new (used) kayak or sitting in a beach chair by the river with Craig and Sammy. Even for the quick CBC finger prick appointments you still have to drive in, drive out, register, wait, see the nurse, see the doctor, wait, wait, wait ... . It gets old.

It's also hard to keep or make any plans with anyone as every day something new seems to crop up and I can never count on anything taking the anticipated amount of time. Plus, with my white count so low I again have to be very cautious about crowds, sick people, what I eat, etc. This also gets very old. I haven't been able to go to the yoga studio all week; we couldn't see a friend in New York because her baby had just received live vaccines and I could easily catch the viruses; I couldn't sit in on the Stupid Cancer radio show broadcast as planned; I missed a planned breakfast at my favorite place with a friend this morning; I missed a get together with friends last night and will miss a birthday party tonight. Being a cancer patient truly does command my schedule right now, but I do my best to make the most of the free time that I do have and try to remember the fact that all these appointments, port pokes, blood draws, quarantine and the incessant waiting are all just part of the process that is saving my life.

It is a full-time job and the most important position I have ever held. It seems it's time for a promotion?

How Stupid Can a Shelter Worker Be?

This one takes the case, if for no other reason that a "wildlife expert" was consulted.

An American Kennel Club-registered dog has been turned loose in the wild after the Frankfort Humane Society mistook her for a coyote. Copper is a female Shiba Inu.

Lori Goodlett told The State-Journal her pet of 11 years disappeared from her fenced back yard on July 3. It was after she put up posters that a police officer recognized Copper as the dog he had taken to the shelter. A shelter worker later called police and said it had to be picked up because coyotes weren't allowed there.

The department turned the animal loose behind a home improvement store after consulting with a wildlife expert who said coyotes were nuisance animals and should be returned to the wild or killed.

Humane Society board chairman John Forbes said he backs the shelter's decision.

"If our manager assessed the animal to be a coyote, then it is against the law for it to be at the shelter. We rely on the people who work there," Forbes said.

Of course the dog had no collar, and you can bet it had no chip. Nor (apparently) had the owners taken a picture of the dog to all the local shelters and pounds. Nor does the dog look very much like a Shiba Inu. That said, the fact that the animal quietly followed the officer when put on a leash might suggest it was a family owned dog and not a coyote! Here's a hint for shelter workers and self-proclaimed "wildlife experts": If a police officer or a suburbanite can catch the animal and load it into a crate with their bare hands, it's NOT a coyote!
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The Mask

The Mask

The ball is soon but my identity must remain a secret.

Others will be there but I will not know who. Friends and enemies alike will pass by me.

When it is all over will the guest of the ball have connected with the cold white face , or the beauty behind the mask?

No Longer Available

Mountain in 2004 ... and 2010

This is Mountain in May of 2004. I think this was the first video I ever shot with a little point-and-shoot camera. Back then (before Youtube) I had no idea what to do with video!

My notes say:

Went out today despite the 35-40 mph winds. Mountain pulled a 10-pound groundhog on her own and bolted another one out of a bank and into a field.

As you can tell from the end of the clip, I'm a bit new to this camera. Oh well.

This sette was in a thorn hedge, and when Mountain got it out of the ground she just kept pulling it back into the hedge -- the groundhog was being ass-pulled at a pretty rapid speed! I finally got through the hedge and dispatched the groundhog before the two of them got into a real brawl topside. This was a very shallow den and the groundhog moved to a pipe exit just as Mountain got there trying to find a new way in. She gripped on and pulled and it popped out about 5 seconds after the video ended. I think she was able to pull this one because the earth was so shallow that the groundhog could not brace itself in very well. The bolt occured in a hedgerow a couple of hundred yards up the way -- I could hear the bolt, but barely see it in the thicket on the bank. I think it popped down another hole, but I was too busted from the wind to pursue it. I'm going to take Mountain out alone for awhile to get her used to hunting without help from Sailor. She needs to learn to trust her nose a little more.

Two chucks worked, no dogs injured, and a serious wind burn for me -- not a bad day.

What I remember most from this day was the wind. It howled!

The same month, six years later, Mountain is still trying to pull one for the camera. I think Pearl was inside, providing the motivation for the bolt.


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Please Litter

I just stepped back and took a picture of my floor about five minutes ago. Much to the annoyance of my family and past roommates, I am simply a messy person. I know that not everyone on the planet is that way, but you have to admit that trash seems to be everywhere. That's actually a very important note for an artist to keep in mind. Trash has a way of making a scene believable. I think that's because it's so familiar to us as a symbol that people occupy that space. Wherever people go, we leave our trash behind us--we've been doing it since ancient culture, as any archeologist will tell you! I think that the only time an artist should make a voluntary effort to make a scene look clean is if the environment is supposed to be some sort of sterile environment or something. Otherwise, even justa little litter: rust on metal, paper next to a trash can, gum on a sidewalk--heck, people put their gum on the underside of just about everything. In my case, a person's room might not be covered in trash, but things that just aren't put away. Instead of putting things on shelves and drawers, books, DVDs, clothes, etc. can be spotted onto a room's floor. This applies to all environments, I think: offices, elevators, cars, subways, parks; I'm sure alien cultures share our bad habits; we haven't shaken our litter problem in 5000 years of civilization, what makes you think we'll stop littering in the future?

How Many Terriers are In this Video?

We Three

SOLD 

We Three

Painted on commission from JC Morgan Art Gallery.

Three Yorkies

8x10 acrylic on masonite panel.

                      http://angelasullivan.fineartstudioonline.com/works/484051
                      Painted on commission from a photo of these three cuties.

Murder Hollow Still Not Clear of Oversight

Apologies to Amy Worden for pirating her text, but she says it well and plain, and who am I to restate it in a more ham-fisted way?

She writes over at the Philly Dawg blog:

More Inspections Ordered for Murder Hollow Kennel

The Bassett hound kennel owner in Philadelphia who was the subject of a Pennsylvania SPCA raid last year has been ordered to allow three more months of unannounced inspections.

Under a consent order issued earlier this month, Wendy Willard has agreed to monthly inspections at her Roxborough kennel by the PSPCA through September. In addition she may only keep no more than 12 dogs (the limit under Philadelphia's ordinances), five of which must be spayed or neutered, and she must show proof of veterinary care.

However, it states if Willard receives a state kennel license she may keep up to 23 dogs. (Murder Hollow was listed on the state kennel database with a pending license request several months ago but that listing has since disappeared.)

The court also ordered Willard to install proper drainage, repair and maintain the interior ceiling and remove feces from the barn and runs daily. In return, animal cruelty charges against Willard were dropped.

Willard, whose case generated widespread support among sporting dog and animal owners' rights groups, also was ordered to contact her supporters and "request' that they not engage in threats against humane officers. PSPCA officers reported receiving Internet death threats following the raid.

During one visit by humane agents and state dog wardens to the property, Willard was accused of throwing stones at vehicles driven by PSPCA and dog officers.

This consent order appears to be an extension of an agreement reached by Willard and the PSPCA in January in which she had six months to clean up her property, take better care of her dogs and allow inspections. Neither the PSPCA nor the district attorney's office would comment on the case.

In July 2009, the PSPCA raided Willard's property and filed 22 citations against her for failing to adequately care for 23 dogs on her property, 11 more than allowed under city ordinances. Eleven dogs were removed, most suffering from tick and parasite infestation. (Ten of the dogs were placed with rescue groups and, according to an Internet discussion group of Williard supporters, one died while being spayed at the PSPCA.)

Willard’s pack, formed in 1986, participated in sporting dog competitions throughout the region and won awards at the Bryn Mawr Hound Show.

I am not sure you need to be a weatherman to get the gist of the storm story here.

An extension of the oversight and inspections period suggests the Court has NOT seen the kind of response and attention it expected to see from Ms. Willard.

Meanwhile, Wendy Willard has sent out another email missive asking people to pay for... a lawyer.

Hey, I have an idea.... how about just doing what the Court asked you to do? How about showing a little contrition? How about thinking about the dogs?

Thinking about the dogs? There's not been too much of that in this fiasco! Right from the beginning, it's been a case of "load, fire, and aim," with Ms. Willard not once supply pictures of her kennels at the time of seizer as an affirmative defense, and none of her internet supporters getting it right on basic facts dealing with the law, circumstances leading up to the seizure, the condition of the dogs, or the conditions at the kennel (that's a picture of one of her dogs at top).

The good news is that the Court has ordered a minimum standard of care at her Kennel -- a standard that requires proof of veterinary care.

You can be sure the Court did not step in here because Ms. Willard was already taking care of business.

The Court stepped in because there were real problems, and there are still enough problems and questions that the Court is requiring continued oversight of Ms. Willard's kennel by the PSPCA for at least nine months after the initial raid.
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My BFF is a WTF

What most people want is a dog... what they need is a cat... and what they deserve is a fish.

This ad is playing on a local cable channel. I have never seen animals mass-marketed on TV before.

Amazing... and sad on a couple of levels. Pets for teabaggers!
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Liberty Magazine, 1933

Click to enlarge.

Awesome cover art, Liberty magazine, March 25, 1933.
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A Bottle of Wine, a Dog and a Hole

Owning a working terrier without allowing it to work is like owning a vintage bottle of fine wine just so you can read the label.

To have admired the label without ever tasting the wine is to have missed the essence of the thing.

Warm Glow

Warm Glow

A pear with a warm glow sits alone on the table.

Welcoming all who pass by.

UNAVAILABLE

Under the (Pre-Raphelite) Influence

This painting on tin plates by Burne-Jones, Morris, and Faulkner is technically sequential art. The Pre-Raphelite brotherhood was all about reigniting interest in the older (and in some cases forgotten) romantic stories. One thing that I've noticed about several other artists of this movement--Rossetti, for one--is their use of patterns as backgrounds or design elements. Though not a common practice in today's sequential art, it can be a useful tool to create interest in the gutters (the space between the panels). It can also be an interesting addition to a piece that has some sort of tie to medieval art, which was what the Pre-Raphelites loved to do.

In this detail of my work-in-progress, I decided to give it a shot. While the story is ultimately not one connected to medieval art, it's more of an ode to the Pre-Raphelite movement. The piece also has Celtic roots, so I figured that a Celtic knot might be appropriate. Though, a fair warning to artists that might try to do Celtic knots in their work: it's time consuming and very difficult to wrap your head around!...though I suppose that's the point.

Manifesto of Encouragement

THE MANIFESTO OF ENCOURAGEMENT
By Rob Brezsny

Right now:

There are Tibetan Buddhist monks in a temple in the Himalayas endlessly reciting mantras for the cessation of your suffering and for the flourishing of your happiness.

Someone you haven't met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.

Someone is writing a book that you will read in the next two years that will change how you look at life.

Nuns in the Alps are in endless vigil, praying for the Holy Spirit to alight the hearts of all of God's children.

A farmer is looking at his organic crops and whispering, "nourish them."

Someone wants to kiss you, to hold you, to make tea for you. Someone is willing to lend you money, wants to know what your favourite food is, and treat you to a movie. Someone in your orbit has something immensely valuable to give you -- for free.

Something is being invented this year that will change how your generation lives, communicates, heals and passes on.

The next great song is being rehearsed.

Thousands of people are in yoga classes right now intentionally sending light out from their heart chakras and wrapping it around the earth.

Millions of children are assuming that everything is amazing and will always be that way.

Someone is in profound pain, and a few months from now, they'll be thriving like never before. They just can't see it from where they're at.

Someone who is craving to be partnered, to be acknowledged, to ARRIVE, will get precisely what they want -- and even more. And because that gift will be so fantastical in it's reach and sweetness, it will quite magically alter their memory of angsty longing and render it all "So worth the wait."

Someone has recently cracked open their joyous, genuine nature because they did the hard work of hauling years of oppression off of their psyche -- this luminous juju is floating in the ether, and is accessible to you.

Someone just this second wished for world peace, in earnest.

Someone is fighting the fight so that you don't have to.

Some civil servant is making sure that you get your mail, and your garbage is picked up, that the trains are running on time, and that you are generally safe. Someone is dedicating their days to protecting your civil liberties and clean drinking water.

Someone is regaining their sanity. Someone is coming back from the dead. Someone is genuinely forgiving the seemingly unforgivable. Someone is curing the incurable.

You. Me. Some. One. Now.

Cooking at The National Zoo

Feeding dogs is easy; feeding lizards, marmosets and hippos is a bit tougher! I used to live very near the National Zoo and I could occassionally hear the elephants below while I was shaving early in the morning.
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Whores, Trolls, Cowards, Parasites & King Babies

In the world of Internet biology, there are taxonomic "lumpers" and "splitters" just as there are in real biology.

For example, when it comes to Internet vermin, I think a lot of ground is covered by lumping them as Whores, Trolls, Cowards, Parasites, or King Babies, as I note in this little page on Gresham's Law & the Internet.

I am a lumper.

But, of course, there are taxonomic splitters too, and at least one of them (Mike Reed) is a very good artist and has put together this delightful site called Flame Warriors where we get masterful illustrations and fine description of such folks as the the Artful Dodger, the Ideologue, the Furious Typer and the Tireless Rebutter.

The site even has a bulletin board where new warriors are suggested, such as Bird Dog, Thesaurus Rex, Puppet Master, Bullshit Merchant, and the Parrot. Check it out!

Of course, I get a little of this, as all blogs do.

One lady posted the same nonsense three times yesterday, revealing that she had not even read the original post that she was so outraged about (she's a vet who is hot that anyone would question some of the business tactics of so many in her profession). Perfect. Of course, she also did not bother to actually give a real email address or cite a single source in her rabid tirade. What am I going to do? It's not like I don't give instructions to the anonymous cowards is it? Nope. Delete.

One fellow sent me a screed that was actually meant for someone else. . I pointed out that he had sent it to the wrong person, in the wrong country, and on the wrong continent. Though he was being very rude to someone else (someone who has forgotten more about dogs than he will ever know), I took the time to point out (gently) that he was wrong on the fundamentals and that he might take the time to retool and rethink. After all, he was not (yet) being rude to me. Maybe he just needed a little information? So far this lunatic has sent me sixteen more emails (not getting my name right in more than half a dozen of them), and not caring that I do not respond (in fact, I do not even open them). What to do? Delete.
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World Beard Championship with Fox Hat

At the World Beard Championships (link) recently held in Alaska, I would have voted for this guy, even if his beard is not up to Jack Passion's.

Check out the total parade of awesomeness to be found at this event, and give a shout out to your favorite in the comments section here.

Worth a look, I promise!!

God bless America, land that I love! Oh, and for those who want a hat like this, somewhat lesser versions are available here.
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Green With Envy

Green With Envy

You want me don't you?  I can feel it even now,

you are green, green with envy.

UNAVAILABLE

Setting Intention

In one of those cosmos aligning, kismet life occurrences, I've found a place that was seemingly built just for me in this time in my life. Just a few weeks ago Enlightened Way Wellness Center opened in the Tariffville Mill, a 3-minute walk from my house. They offer yoga, free meditation classes, massage and body treatments, an herbal tea bar, lifestyle programs and more. But most importantly the couple that runs it are two of the most kind, generous and inspiring people I've ever met. I've had the pleasure of spending time learning from them and plan to do more.

It's been especially great as the center is so new that morning classes are sparsely attended ... I've had a one-on-one yoga class and a private meditation session with both owners. They've offered me suggestions, tactics, visualizations, breathing techniques and a calming focus to lean on as I prepare for the daunting treatment ahead of me and deal with the physical and mental effects of the treatment I am currently in.

After a strengthening yoga class the owner, Mark, pulled me aside and said he had been thinking about me and had some thoughts that he wanted to share if I was open to that. Oh, am I ever. I'm looking for everything I can find to help get my mind, body and spirit in the right place to survive this. We went into the comfy and calming meditation room and discussed:

When we are born we are perfect. We are a perfect manifestation of 100 trillion cells each working in synchronized harmony like a choreographed dance. It's when we hit the world and outside influences come into play that the cells lose their place and get out of step. Enter cancer. Thinking of it this way helps me to realize that it's an organic process. It is nothing of my fault or anyone else's fault that this happened to me. Something just set these certain cells off course and into mutation and now it's just a matter of them finding their way back to that pure and perfect state where everything is once again in harmony.

Rather than visualizing chemo eating away at the cancer cells like a game of Pac Man, I'm working on visualizing my treatment as creating a healing light inside of me that fills me with the power to repair those broken cells. I'm visualizing the cancer cells inside me not as an enemy trying to kill me, but instead as my children that have lost their way. They just need some help in getting back to their pure state. If you have a kid that's seemingly out of control, you still love that child unconditionally, right? By listening to what they're asking for (rest, the right nourishment, peace), with intention, I have the power to get things back in order. By setting the right intentions, I can help those cells rejuvinate and remorph into healthy cells, just like they morphed into unhealthy ones. That may require some tough love, but love nonetheless.

I believe strongly that those who survive and can stay sane during something like this are those that can embrace the negative things that happen to them and learn to work with them, not against them. This fits my personality much better than the idea of killing and anger.

What we give attention to grows. If I focus my attention on being angry or being as "pissed off" as the cancer is, then that anger is only going to grow to other parts of my life. From the beginning I've never been angry or resentful for more than fleeting moments as I know it's energy wasted – and most days I don't exactly have energy to spare. Rather than hating and cursing them, if I look at those cancer cells as part of me and love them then that love will grow. Attention is what I am focused on right now. Intention is what I am setting for my future. A future of health and harmony.

By no means does this mean I'm giving up the battle. I talk often about the Rocky mentality and having that story as my inspiration. What strikes me so much about it is it's about going the distance; getting back up when you don't think you can. It's not necessarily about being stronger or more blood thirsty than the enemy, but instead about knowing how to fight smarter. In fact, Rocky doesn't even win the fight in the original movie, but he does go all 15 rounds with Apollo Creed – a big deal. That does not happen by accident ... it all goes back to his training, to harnessing fear, to digging deep and finding that place, to rolling with the punches.

Mark pointed out that in ancient martial arts when one opponent is being attacked by another, instead of tightening up and puffing out his chest like burly guys in bars after a few beers, he leans back to absorb the hit and lets that force ricochet off him and into space. It's a similar concept to Parkour or Freerunning, the physical discipline of training to overcome any obstacle within one's path by adapting one's movements to the environment. This allows those that practice Parkour to be able to land seemingly inhumane leaps and bounds without shattering every bone in their bodies. In short, I can't control what's happened to me and the physical challenges that it brings, but I can control my attitude toward it and how I absorb it into my life.

For me it's vitally important to be an active participant in my care, complementing the powerful medicines and scienctific advances that I'm subject to. It's easy to sit back and say "everyone is going to get cancer anyway so why should I care how I treat my body?" This is a detrimental way of thinking. Life is about building a foundation so that if and when we do face deep stress, loss, or illness, we've built the foundation we need to be able to handle it, that we've learned not to puff our chests and attack it but to absorb it, listen to what it's trying to tell us and use those answers to carry us forward. If our bodies and minds are not strong during "regular life," what is going to happen when that life is turned upside down? I am forever grateful that I was in the mental and physical place that I was when I was first whopped with this diagnosis and that I've been able to maintain that with each diagnosis since.

Sure there are days when I turn into a crazy person for a little while. No matter how much yoga and visualizations I do there are days when I cry and scream and become resentful and frustrated. But that's an important part of the process too. Without going off balance I wouldn't appreciate the stability. There's no better feeling than getting to that low point, reeling myself out of it, then being able to look back, take a deep breath and learn from it.

The Face of Terrorism

I don't have much tolerance for terrorists of any kind, whether they are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu or merely old-fashioned right-wing, racist paranoids.

Not all terrorists are religious zealots, racists, or right-wing paranoids, of course.

The "left" has its share of nut jobs too, and the latest to get nailed is pictured above.

He is Walter Bond, age 34, a self-proclaimed member of the Animal Liberation Front (ALF) who was arrested in Colorado last week.

The criminal complaint against Bond outlines the case:

* On July 1st, investigators received a call from a confidential informant wishing to provide information on the Sheepskin Factory and Tandy Leather Factory arsons. The informant stated Bond had told him/her in a telephone call from the Salt Lake City library to refer to Voice of the Voiceless and scroll down to an article on the Sheepskin Factory arson to learn what he'd "been up to lately".

* On July 22nd, the confidential informant arranged a monitored conversation with Walter Bond in a Ramada Inn in Denver, Colorado. Investigators allege Bond was heard admitting to three arsons: Sheepskin Factory, Leather Factory, and Tiburon. Bond was arrested subsequent to the conversation.

Good luck to Mr. Bond in prison. By the look of things, he will fit right in.

As with the lunatics on the right, the actions of this man have nothing to do with core principles or well-founded logic.

This is the feeble-minded acting out of a psychopath with a narcissistic personality disorder.

Left or right, our tolerance for this kind of nonsense should be ZERO.

• Related Links:
  ** Animal Rights Terrorist Added to FBI Top 10
  ** Animal Rights: Terrorists and Clowns Behind Masks
  ** Ireland's Sinn Féin Joins the Animal Rights Loons?
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Coffee and Provocation

• Baltimore Rat Fishing:
  I have written about "the good old days" at the Yellow Rose in Baltimore, when they used to use hooks. Here's a video of the "reformed" version, with glue traps. For the record, this was a publicity stunt designed to shame the city to cleaning up the rats. Of course, this is Baltimore, a city beyond shame when it comes to rats.
  
  
• This Is How True Love Dies:
  The turtle dove, an age-old symbol of love, is now being driven to extinction in the U.K. by a loss of wildflowers.
  
  
• Euro-leads for More ... and Less:
  Euro leads at every price, from the expensive, to the lower cost, to the even lower cost, to the lowest cost.
  
  
• Hairy Nosed Otter?
  Camera Trap Codger is thrilled that a camera trap has taken a pic of Malaysia's rare Hairy Nosed Riover Otter. Always helpful me suggests adding this tool to the kit.
  
  
• Your Brain Bucket May Need a Paint Job:
  If you ride a motorcycle, you need a brian bucket and there's no reason for it to be boring. I like the bald head helmet, the watermelon helmet, the globe helmet, and the walnut versions best. I'm not sure these actually exist, as my language skills are a bit challenged. Hope so!
  
  
• Global Warming Leads to Bigger Marmots:
  Yellow-bellied marmots in Colorado are gaining weight and producing more offspring, compared to thirty years ago, due to the lengthening summer, which allows them to put on more weight.
  
  
• Great Moments in Journalism:
  Transvestite Had Sex with a Dog at English Heritage Castle. Yes that's the real title of an article in the London Telegraph earlier this week. The world divides cleanly into those that have already gone to that link, and those who never will. Of course that newspaper headline is not quite as shocking as this front-page headline out of Australia (warning, not safe anywhere). For those that like odd newspaper titles, but would perhaps like them a little tamer even if they do not feature a dog, how about this one: Springfield police charge one-armed man with unarmed robbery. Pretty tame, but pretty good all the same.
  
  
• A Nice Invention for Cows:
  This little contraption boosts milk production, lowers disease, and makes cows happier. It seems to me it is should be mandatory. Of course, I am pretty sure if they installed a nice-looking massage therapist at the office, that would boost productivity too!
  
  
• Extra-Virgin Olive Oil?
  Extra-virgin Olive Oil? That's what she told Popeye, but it turns out it's a lie. She's probably not such a virgin after all.
  
  
• Cooking With Hawks:
  Matt Mullenix scores on TV with his hawk, which is what you pray for when the cameras roll. Nice!
  
  
• The Continuing Crisis:
  Goat falling off mountain in Austria flattens hiker. The goat was unharmed.

The UKC Earth Work Hunting Program is Dead

Mountain slides out, a happy hole dog.

It appears the Earth Work Hunting Program at the United Kennel Club has died on the vine due to lack of interest.

I do not follow the Club scene too much, and apparently this is old news. Rumor has it that no one had applied for any titles in quite a while. Too bad.

It seems only a few years back that I was being told the UKC hunt program was going to take the world by storm and leave the JRTCA a hollow shell devoid of membership and working dogs of any kind. Apparently that did not happen.

In curiosity, I checked out the AKC Parson Russell Association web site, and it does not appear to have been updated in more than three years. There are no recent newsletters, no membership brags, and the "earthwork" page is simply a place-holder that takes you to a form if you want to go ahead and fill that out. No education here, and not much encouragement!

The American Working Terrier Association (which is not a registry) has go-to-ground trials, but that's some distance from real field work, and here too things seem to be moribund to the casual observer. This seems to be a web site presentation failure; if you really want to find out what is going on at AWTA, you have to go to Jo Ann Frier-Murza's site to get a schedule. A hat tip to Jo Ann; few have done more in service to the dogs (and, in case you didn't see the earlier mention on this blog, her excellent book on earthdog trials has been reprinted).

Over at the Jack Russell Terrier Association of America, things seem to be in pretty fine fettle, with massive amounts of information, a national trial scheduled 94 days from today in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and regular shows and trials that are google-mapped for easy locating. In addition, the JRTCA web site sells locator collars and fox nets, and has links to JRT Rescue and JRT health research.

Is there any question as as to why the JRTCA is the backbone of terrier work in the U.S.?
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Lucky You

Click to enlarge.
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Madison Avenue Liars for Hire Killed For Cash

This is just a small reminder, that evil requires a public relations shop, an ad man, and payola.

How else could you sell death, destruction, cancer, lying, stealing and cheeating, all while wrapping it up in the American flag and tagging it freedom, liberty, justice, and capitalism?
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Hugs

Hugs

We are close. We share a deep love and we

are good. We hug to survive.

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Be The Match

Please consider registering as a stem cell/bone marrow donor and becoming the match that could save someone's life. A wonderful, motivated, driven family friend is organizing a stem cell/bone marrow donor drive in my honor on August 21, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. at the Harwinton Volunteer Firehouse, 158 Burlington Road in Harwinton, CT. All you have to do is show up and a volunteer will swab your cheek and enter you into the national donor registry. Please help to spread the word. If you can't make the donor drive, it's also quick and easy to register and order a kit online.

I am fortunate enough to have a sibling that matches my HLA type and pending successful further tests, she will be my stem cell donor. However, many do not have that luxury. It is so important to expand this registry of volunteers and increase the odds for those who seek a donor. Help others with blood cancers and blood disorders to live the long, happy lives they deserve with this one simple step on your part. More info on the process and what is required of donors called to act at www.bethematch.org.

A New Little Man Coming to the House

This happy little fellow stands 11" tall and was made in America.

The day I started looking for a new dog, just two weeks ago, an 11" tall, smooth male out of working stock seemed a tall order to fill.

The good news is that this blog seems to be read by the right people, and so I got emails from seven people in four countries who thought they might have the right dog for me. The first email was from Wales and the dog looked a cracker, but things did not quite come together.

Two of the emails were about this dog, however, and neither one was from the breeder.

The first email was from Cson Johnson, who I have periodically queried over the years seeing if she knew of any small, smooth males out there. She has "good radar," is active in the JRTCA, and seems to know most everyone. She also knows how much I value small working dogs and why.

The second email came from Sherri Rossmiller who happens to own an 11" female with identical breeding to this little male dog. She too knew what I wanted, and why I wanted it.

I shot an email to Dawn Weiss at Briar Run in Illinois. Dawn breeds working terriers, and yes this dog was available to the right working home, and she thought I might do!

We went over the fundamentals, and we were both on the same page: testicles stay on, breeding rights forever, and work the dog like God and John Russell intended.

Check, check, check.

Possum (the name of the dog) is BAER-tested and CERF-clear, and his sire is a bronze medallion dog, as are several others in his pedigree, which includes a long litany of working dog kennels. This little man has already worked an opossum, but due to the ups and downs of the economy in the last 18 months (mostly downs), he has not seen the field-time he deserves, hence his availability to me. Perfect!

Possum comes to Washington, D.C. one week from today (knock on wood), and he will spend August working the go-to-ground tunnels in my backyard, and spending quality time with me, the missus, and the other dogs. A month of assimilation at Casa Terrierman should do him well, and I expect we will both teach each other a little. In September, of course, we hunt!

Much thanks to Dawn for making this dog available to me. I assure her no one could ever give a working dog a better life or appreciate it more.


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• Related Links:
  ** So You Want a Dog?
  ** Finding the Right Dog
  ** Ten Reasons to Join the JRTCA
  ** The Real Jack Russell Terrier: A Complete History
  ** A 15-Year Mistake
  ** What is a Terrier?
  ** Searching for the Questing Beast
  ** A Question of Breed
  ** These are the Good Old Days
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A 15-inch Border and an 11-Inch Russell

Two of my dogs, now gone, but not forgotten.

Which one do you think got down the hole with room to spare (and spar)?
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Little Blue Jar

Little Blue Jar

The little blue jar has been in the family for years,

Valued and protected from the hands of children who have found

it fascinating.

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This is How Jack Russells Start Out

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Crowns Around a Campfire.....

The Crowns were a great success!
I hung them on a chandelier and everyone chose the one they wanted.
When I was making them, I had no thought as to who would wear what, but of course, as it turned out, each crown perfectly reflected the head upon which it sat...all evening long.
Last night was one of those moments in time when I am hit by the realization that life is so good.

Your Dog's Going to Hell, Mine's Already in Heaven

I have never understood Communion.

How is a cracker made in a factory in Ohio, and grape juice bought in a jug at Safeway, the blood and body of Christ?

How is a magical wafer any less funny that magic underwear (Mormonism), or space aliens from another planet (Scientology), or a Monkey God?

And why are Christian churches playing pantomine cannibalism anyway?

I ask this because the latest news is that someone in Toronto is outraged that a priest gave a communion cracker to a dog.

According to those in attendance at the historical church at 188 Carlton St. in downtown Toronto, it was a spontaneous gesture, one intended to make both the dog and its owner – a first timer at the church — feel welcomed. But at least one parishioner saw the act as an affront to the rules and regulations of the Anglican Church. He filed a complaint with the reverend and with the Anglican Diocese of Toronto about the incident – and has since left the church.

“I wrote back to the parishioner that it is not the policy of the Anglican Church to give communion to animals,” said Bishop Patrick Yu, the area bishop of York-Scarborough responsible for St. Peter’s, who received the complaint in early July. “I can see why people would be offended. It is a strange and shocking thing, and I have never heard of it happening before.

Really? They are outraged?

Bishop Yu is running around like a scared gerbil because some nameless, faceless person has complained that "the magic cookie" should not be given to a dog?

I am broad-minded. If you want to go to a church that hates dogs and coddles haters, knock yourself out.

If you want to dance around in your magic underwear while eating magic cookies and talking about space aliens, monkey Gods, and cannibalism I am all for that too.

Each to his own.

But as for myself, I worship at a different church: the First Church of Field and Stream. It in an ancient church, it is the First Church, and it is not under new management:

In the First Church of Field and Stream, the resurrection story is told by fritillary butterflies and red-eared sliding turtles. The story of life everlasting is told by a young couple on a river outting, and a pair of deer bouncing across a bright green field of emerging barley.

You do not have to read these stories in a book; At the First Church of Field and Stream you can see them for yourself.

And, for the record, the First Church of Field and Stream does not hate dogs. In fact, they are part of our communion ritual.

Let us prey.

January 26, 1962 episode called "The Hunt"

From The Twilight Zone TV Series

"A dog's got a right to have a man around, just the same as that man's got a right to have a dog around.... I wonder what kind of a tea party they keep in there anyways? Must be city folks mostly. They'd be the ones most likely to outlaw coon hunting."

• Related Links:
  ** Hunting on Sunday
  ** The Forest Ozymandias
  ** At the First Church of Field and Stream
  ** Sunday in the Church of Field and Stream
  ** Dogs In the Woods is Like Church
  ** God Recycles
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Strawberry Bucket

Strawberry Bucket

Strawberries spilling out of a bucket. Big and juicy, red and green these

berries are ripe for the harvest.

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Berry Bowl

Berry Bowl

A bowl of berries waiting for

a little cream. Can't wait.

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