Your Vet Has a Heartworm Medication Secret

In yesterday's post, I mentioned that folks are giving monthly doses of insecticide to their dogs to prevent heartworm, but that an every-other month dose in warm weather will do just as well, and that your dog does not need to be dosed at all during cool weather (night time temperatures of under 57 degrees).

I have, of course, written about all this before and I encourage folks to go read that now.

None of this is new, of course. In fact, it was spelled out in a 1998 article by David H. Knight, DVM and James B. Lok, PhD. published in Clinical Techniques in Small Animal Practice and entitled Seasonality of Heartworm Infection and Implications for Chemoprophylaxis. As Knight and Lok note in that paper:

The practice of some veterinanans to continuously prescribe monthly chemoprophylaxis exaggerates the actual risk of heartworm transmission in most parts of the country and unnecessarily increases the cost of protection to their clients.

The authors go on to say, in a nice under-stated way, that heartworm hysteria pays a nice dividend for vets.

There is also a tremendous financial incentive to veterinarians to promote heartworm chemoprophylaxis because they control distribution of these excellent products in a market that is already large but not yet saturated. Unfortunately, preoccupation with worse case scenarios imparted by the profession to our client's and what could be perceived as an obvious economic self interest for veterinarians to promote chemoprophylaxis has encouraged an insidious overuse of a good thing. The well-intentioned promotion of heartworm awareness and prevention may overshadow the fact that in the temperate latitudes, heartworm transmission is seasonal and chemoprophylaxis is not necessary on a continual basis.

Knight and Lok note that vets hide the truth from their clients because it is in their financial interests to do so.

[W]hat harm is there in liberally dispensing these drugs? The issue that needs to be considered is whether medical justification should prevail over entrepreneurial interests in dispensing drugs intended to prevent rather than cure disease? Because veterinarians are permitted to sell the drugs they prescribe, use may not always be based strictly on medical justification...

... [G]iven what is presently known, continued adherence to a policy of superfluous chemoprophylaxis is disquieting because financial expediency for the veterinarian conflicts with clinical objectvity, and client consent is predicated on unrealistic expectations. Clients mistakenly believe they are purchasing additional protection for their pets, but in reality they are not. If the truth were known to them, few clients would agree to unnecessarily double their expense for heartworm prevention.

Right.

But is this the kind of information your vet will tell you?

It is not! And why not? Simple: there's no money in the truth.

And so the vets beat the drum of dependency and over-medication, abetted by the "American Heartworm Society" which is entirely funded by companies that sell heartworm drugs and testing kits. It's a bit like Penzoil writing your car manual and advising you to change your oil every month. Your car mechanic would then point to this manual to justify his services and sales -- and yes he only uses Penzoil in a car like yours! Perfect!
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Yellow Dingy

Yellow Dingy

Reflections of yellow and blue shine bright in the afternoon sun. Anchored now to a small

bouy in a pacific harbor she will soon be drifting along taking her owners to a far away place of refuge.

This painting is for sale at JC Morgan Art Gallery , Oxford, Al 36203

5x7 acrylic on masonite panel.

February 1959 Predicts the Library of the Future

Here's a pretty great little illustration and description that came out only two days before I was born.

This is from a futuristic newspaper strip drawn by Arthur Radebaugh and called Closer Than We Think.

"Some unusual inventions for home entertainment and education will be yours in the future, such as the 'television recorder' that RCA's David Sarnoff described recently. With this device, when a worthwhile program comes over the air while you are away from home, or even while you're watching it, you'll be able to preserve both the picture and sound on tape for replaying at any time. Westinghouse's Gwilym Price expects such tapes to reproduce shows in three dimensions and color on screens as shallow as a picture."

I particulary like the line at the end: "Next week: Troop transport capsules!"

This is from a pretty great little blog called Paleo-Future. Check it out!
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Gideon Bolts His First Groundhog

Gideon bolted his first groundhog yesterday.

The sette was an enormous multi-eye labyrinth in a never-plowed field, and the groundhog went back to ground in another part of the sette, but by then I was done digging in the searing sun. It was 88 degrees in the shade acording to my cell phone, but I was not digging in the shade!

I packed it up, to try elewhere, and we hit the nearby forest. The dogs found some more holes, but after another hour of noodling around, I called it a day and headed back home to finish some writing. Deadlines!

Gideon has the most remarkable range of sounds that come out of him. He yodels, wails, barks, and makes a sound with his mouth that sounds like he's got serious indigestion. Very comical.

I have to say Gideon has already proven to be quite a wonderful dog. He loves kids, does great with the other dogs, readily goes to ground, and does not range very far when we are out in the field. Pretty perfect.

I can hardly wait until it gets a little cooler!
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She Waits

In deep thought she stands waiting for someone unknown.

Today she will meet him, her knight in shining armor who will

take her away to a place far from here. She knows he will have olive

toned skin and dark trusses of hair but will he be kind and polite, or will

he be forboding and have a dark side?

Are There Dead Dogs and Cats in Dog Food?

As a species, we are naturally drawn to the gruesome, the frightening, and the macabre.

We pay good money to see slasher movies and ride death-defying roller-coasters.

And so it should come as no surprise to find that folks love to speculate about whether... maybe... dead dogs and cats are being ground up for kibbled dog food.

Here's the short answer....

NO.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration web site addresses the issue directly if folks will actually take the time to read.

Read?

Good God man, where's the fun in that? Next you'll be telling us there's no Sasquatch, no Chupacabra and no alien autopsies -- and Lord knows we've all seen the videos of those things!

Right.

True enough.

But there are no videos of dead dogs and cats being turned into dog food. None.

And while there is a trace amount of pentobarbital residue in kibbled dog food, it does not seem to be a health concern, and it has a perfectly simple source explanation: Beef Cattle.

But don't take my word for it. Here's what the FDA has to say about the pentobarbital found in dog food and where it does NOT come from:

The low levels of exposure to sodium pentobarbital (pentobarbital) that dogs might receive through food is unlikely to cause them any adverse health effects, Food and Drug Administration scientists concluded after conducting a risk assessment.

During the 1990s, FDA’s Center for Veterinary Medicine (CVM) received reports from veterinarians that pentobarbital, an anesthetizing agent used for dogs and other animals, seemed to be losing its effectiveness in dogs. Based on these reports, CVM officials decided to investigate a plausible theory that the dogs were exposed to pentobarbital through dog food, and that this exposure was making them less responsive to pentobarbital when it was used as a drug.

The investigation consisted of two parts. First, CVM had to determine if dog food could contain residues of the drug. Second, if residues were found, the Center had to determine what risk, if any, the residues posed to dogs.

In conjunction with this investigation, the Center wanted to determine if pet food contained rendered remains of dogs and cats.

How pentobarbital can get into dog food

Because in addition to producing anesthesia, pentobarbital is routinely used to euthanize animals, the most likely way it could get into dog food would be in rendered animal products.

Rendered products come from a process that converts animal tissues to feed ingredients. Pentobarbital seems to be able to survive the rendering process. If animals are euthanized with pentobarbital and subsequently rendered, pentobarbital could be present in the rendered feed ingredients.

In order to determine if pentobarbital residues were present in animal feeds, CVM developed a sophisticated process to detect and quantify minute levels – down to 2 parts per billion of pentobarbital in dry dog food. To confirm that the methods they developed worked properly, CVM scientists used the methods to analyze dry commercial dog foods purchased from retail outlets near to their Laurel, MD, laboratories. The scientists purchased dog food as part of two surveys, one in 1998 and the second in 2000. They found some samples contained pentobarbital (see the attached tables).

Dogs, cats not found in dog food

Because pentobarbital is used to euthanize dogs and cats at animal shelters, finding pentobarbital in rendered feed ingredients could suggest that the pets were rendered and used in pet food.

CVM scientists, as part of their investigation, developed a test to detect dog and cat DNA in the protein of the dog food. All samples from the most recent dog food survey (2000) that tested positive for pentobarbital, as well as a subset of samples that tested negative, were examined for the presence of remains derived from dogs or cats. The results demonstrated a complete absence of material that would have been derived from euthanized dogs or cats. The sensitivity of this method is 0.005% on a weight/weight basis; that is, the method can detect a minimum of 5 pounds of rendered remains in 50 tons of finished feed. Presently, it is assumed that the pentobarbital residues are entering pet foods from euthanized, rendered cattle or even horses.

Finding levels of pentobarbital residues in dog food

Upon finding pentobarbital residues in dog food, the researchers undertook an assessment of the risk dogs might face. Dogs were given known quantities of pentobarbital for eight weeks to determine if consumption of small amounts of pentobarbital resulted in any physiological changes that could indicate potential effects on health. In short, the scientists wanted to find the level of pentobarbital dogs could be exposed to that would show no biological effects. The most sensitive indicator that pentobarbital had an effect is an increase in the production of certain enzymes collectively called cytochrome P450.

Virtually all animals produce enzymes as a normal response to metabolize naturally occurring and man-made chemicals in their environment. Barbituates, such as pentobarbital, are especially efficient at causing the liver to produce these enzymes. In dogs, the most sensitive biological response to pentobarbital is an increase in the production of cytochrome P450 enzymes, which is why the scientists chose that as the best indicator of biological effect. If a low level of pentobarbital did not cause a dog to produce additional cytochrome P450 enzymes, then scientists could assume that the pentobarbital at that low level had no significant effect on the dog.

In CVM’s study, experimental animals were each dosed orally with either 50, 150, or 500 micrograms pentobarbital/day for eight weeks. The results were compared with control animals, which were not exposed to pentobarbital.

Several significant pentobarbital-associated effects were identified in this study:

1. Dogs that received 150 and 500 micrograms pentobarbital once daily for eight weeks had statistically higher liver weights (relative to their bodyweights) than the animals in the control groups. Increased liver weights are associated with the increased production by the liver of cytochrome P450 enzymes;

2. An analysis showed that the activity of at least three liver enzymes was statistically greater than that of the controls at doses of approximately 200 micrograms pentobarbital per day or greater.

But researchers found no statistical differences in relative liver weight or liver enzyme activity between the group receiving 50 micrograms pentobarbital per day and the controls. Based on the data from this study, CVM scientists were able to determine that the no-observable-effect level – which is the highest dose at which no effects of treatment were found – for pentobarbital was 50 micrograms of pentobarbital per day.

Adverse health effects unlikely

For the purposes of CVM’s assessment the scientists assumed that at most, dogs would be exposed to no more than 4 micrograms/kilogram body weight/day based on the highest level of pentobarbital found in the survey of dog foods. In reality, dogs are not likely to consume that much. The high number was based on the assumption that the smallest dogs would eat dog food containing the greatest amount of pentobarbital detected in the survey of commercial pet foods-- 32 parts per billion.

However, to get to the exposure level of 50 micrograms of pentobarbital per day, which is the highest level at which no biological response was seen, a dog would have to consume between 5 to 10 micrograms of pentobarbital per kilogram of body weight. But the most any dog would consume, based on the survey results, was 4 micrograms pentobarbital per kilogram of body weight per day.

It should be emphasized that induction of cytochrome P450 enzymes is a normal response to many substances that are naturally found in foods. It is not an indication of harm, but was selected as the most sensitive indicator to detect any biological effect due to pentobarbital.

Thus, the results of the assessment led CVM to conclude that it is highly unlikely a dog consuming dry dog food will experience any adverse effects from exposures to the low levels of pentobarbital found in CVM’s dog food surveys.

What do all those words mean?

Simple:

1. There is NO EVIDENCE of any dead dogs or cats in dog food.
   No evidence. None. Zero. Empty set. The testing showed nothing at a level of 0.004 percent or 5 pounds of rendered remains spread over 100,000 pounds of dog food.
   
   
2. The pentobarbital in dog food is less than is needed to trigger even the smallest and most sensitive of naturally occurring enzyme reactions in a dog. This is important, as toxicity of any substance is always about dosage. In our own world, we are surrounded by poisons, from alcohol in our counter-top fruit, to toxic metals in our cooking ware, to toxins coming from car exhaust and settling on our lawns (to say nothing about what comes out of the hose-end of the garden sprayer). Even water is toxic in the wrong dose. Dosage is everything.
   
   
3. The pentobarbital in dog and cat food has an obvious source -- beef cattle. Cattle and horses are often dosed with pentobarbital for standing veterinary examinations. Though sick animals recently dosed with pentobarbital are not supposed to make in into the food chain, they do at times. And that's not just the dog food chain, by the way -- that's probably the human food chain as well. You see beef from downer cows has been routinely served to our children as fresh hamburger that may or may not be cooked all the way through.
   
   What? Downer cows have been served to our school children? Yes indeed, and the Humane Society of the U.S. has put the whole story on video tape and filed a False Claims Act lawsuit, which the U.S. Department of Justice has joined as well.

Is there similar video tape of dead dogs and cats being rendered into dog food?

No there is is not.

In fact, the entire dead-dogs-turned-into-dog-food-story seems to have been sparked by a single 1995 story in the Baltimore City Paper (a free local newspaper more famous for its "personals" column than its reporting) which asserted -- but never proved -- that a local independent rendering plant was running two separate lines (one for slaughterhouse and butcher waste, and the other for roadkill and euthanized pets) and then mixing the fats at the end of the run.

But guess what?

When ABC television's 20/20 news program investigated, they found the story had no legs. It was not true so far as they could tell, and they had to pull the plug on the story that they had intended to take national.

Other reporters have chased the same story again and again over the years, but they too have come up with nothing despite the fact that everyone with an Ipod Nano now has a miniature camera and recording device capable of making a pile of cash for the right video tape.

It seems dead dogs and cats are simply NOT being made into dog food. They might be made into candles, industrial grease, floor wax, or chicken or hog feed, but not dog food.

Let me say it another way: We have more evidence of Sasquatch, chupacabras, the Loch Ness monster, and space aliens being autopsied at Area 51 than we do of dogs and cats being rendered into dog food.

Of course, a lot of people are not going to be swayed by the facts.

Why let truth get in the way of a good story? Why let science derail the fear-inducing story-board which says ALL of our processed foods are bad, and that the FDA has NO IDEA what is in them.... and never mind if our food are actually safer today than at any time in U.S. or world history.

But hey, I am not trying to sway the minds of the folks who stand in long lines at the fair in order to pay good money to be scared.

Everyone needs a thrill, a hobby, and a cause.

I get it.

Carry on. If you want to worry about what is in kibble, be my guess.

But be advised that your dog is definitely eating its own shit.

And if you run your dog loose in forest, field or fen, it's also eating the occasional fox and raccoon crap, cat turd, cow pattie, pile of deer shit, and mouse dingle-berry as well.

If your dog spends any time outside on its own (even if it is just in your suburban back yard) it almost certainly eating a dead sparrow once in a while, and maybe a live lizard or snake. For sure it is eating the occasional live mouse or dead squirrel.

If you leave your food and water bowls outside on the patio or porch, your dog is certainly drinking a little rat pee, and has probably gobbled down a little possum snot as well.

And I have not even talked about what happens when your dog drinks out of the toilet bowl in your house, or licks its crotch, or sniffs the butt of the dog next door. Woooeeee!

You say you are worried about toxins in kibbled dog food?

OK. Worry away. I can't stop you.

But just for a second, you might think about the toxins you intentionally put in your own dog every month.

Your dog is probably on heartworm medicine, which is nothing more than an insecticide, and you are feeding this poison to your dog every month at a level that is it lethal to a living thing that only might be inside your dog.

And you are probably feeding this poison to your dog every month regardless of outside temperature and despite the fact that a monthly dosing of insecticide is not needed to control heartworm (once every two or three months will do the job).

On top of the insecticide you are putting inside your dog every month, there is the insecticide you are putting outside your dog every month because you cannot be bothered to use a flea comb -- the topical flea and tick medicine called Frontline or whatever other variation on a theme that you are using. This stuff is a powerful neurotoxin.

So you are dosing your dog, inside and out, every month, with powerful poisons designed to kill and which do kill every day.

But what you are worried about is a trace toxin that might be found in your dog's kibble?

I think that's a little amusing.

But, of course, I am not trying to tell you to change your area of concern.

Be strong and carry on.

That said, I am willing to bet I know what will kill your dog, and it's not likely to be bagged kibble!

It's YOU.

You see, about 40% of all dogs are obese and obese dogs have shorter lives and often live for years with collapsing joints and other ailments as well. Dogs are obese because of their owners and nothing else.

Add to obesity the breed of dog you selected.

Do you have a Boston Terrier, a French Bulldog, a Pug, an English Bulldog or a Pekingese?

These dogs have chronic breathing problems, and are routinely beset with joint and spine problems, to say nothing of chronic skin diseases and eye problems.

You think these dogs are likely to die from kibbled dog food?

Not a chance.

These dogs are far more likely to die from the intentional deformity and defect that you yourself once found so amusing.

Of course, the flat-faced brachycephalic breeds are only a small slice of the canine parade of dysfunction.

We also have the dogs that are four-legged cancer bombs: the Scottish Terriers, the Bernese Mountain Dogs, the Flat-coated Retrievers, the Greyhounds, the Deerhounds, and the Golden Retrievers.

The cancers here are gene-based, and are exacerbated by inbreeding.

But do the owners of these breeds stand up and demand an open registry to perhaps reduce the incidence of cancer?

They do not.

Do the owners of these breeds tell every prospective puppy owner that there is a better than 50% chance that the little puppy they are about to buy will die from a heart-breaking cancer which, before it dies, will suck thousands of dollars from the poor rube's wallet?

Nope.

And a similar silence is heard from the myriad other breeds wrecked by dyplasia, heart and liver disease.

Instead of a demand for AKC reform, we get a lot of hand-wringing about what might be in dog food, and what it might do to dogs.

Which is fine with me.

I get it.

There will always be folks standing in line to pay good money to see a slasher movie or ride the roller coaster.

There will always be people standing in line to pay money to see the freak show.

There will always be people willing to pay a lot of money for a Jaguar sports car, and never mind the crappy construction and enormous repair bills, or the fact that the owners will never drive the car more than 75 miles an hour.

Form and image over construction and function. I get it

As a species, we like to scare ourselves, and we like to amuse ourselves, but we hate to take responsibility for our own actions and much prefer to blame the great and mysterious THEM.

And so our dogs cannot be dying early and tragic deaths because we selected deformed, defective and diseased breeds and then overfeed and under-excercised them.

It must be the food. It must be the dog food companies.

Those bastards!
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Safe Harbor

Safe Harbor

Sitting in the harbor are two shrimp boats. Safe from the devastation of the

recent oil spill. These two boats are in still water with only ripples from the current gently

swaying them ever so slightly. They won't shrimp today.

Today is a day of leisure, a day for their owners to

spend time with their families a day spent in safe harbor.

Acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas 18x24.

This painting is sold. JC Morgan Art Gallery

Thanks to Sally Evans for naming the boats.

STORM :: a Tim Minchin beat poem

Tim Minchin does a beat poem.

How cool is this? How graceful the execution? How punishing the delivery?

Perfect!.

Gorring's Raccoons

A repost from January 2006


The Monterey Herald reports on Germany's "Unwanted Raccoon Harvest":

California has had its revenge on Germany, the source of wild boars that were stocked to provide game for hunters and have since overrun the state, plowing up fields, gobbling plants and animals, and endangering endangered species.

Germany has raccoons. Lots of them, according to the Times of London. Some studies put the estimate at a million.

Times reporter Roger Boyes reported last week that "Vineyard owners across Germany are hiring bounty hunters to kill furry animals with a taste for grapes.

"Hunters are being hired to prevent a plague of raccoons with Nazi-era ancestry from munching their way through the German wine harvest."

The German wine-growing region of Kassel has become "the raccoon capital of Europe ever since Baron Sittich Von Berlerpsch released two of the animals into the wild in February 1934.

"The move was encouraged by Hermann Goering," he wrote, "the Nazi leader who, apart from being the head of Hitler's air force, was the chief forester of the Third Reich."

The first raccoons were brought from North America in the 19th century, Boyes reported, and their population grew by leaps and bounds when an Allied bomb hit a raccoon farm in 1945, scattering the animals.

Food for Thought

A golden pear, A book of knowledge just waiting to

be explored by someone with an unquenchable hunger.

Training Humans Like Dogs

Some years back, I co-authored a small book on eradicating street drug markets which got a kind review from Mark Kleiman, who was then teaching at the Kennedy School of Public Policy at Harvard.

Imagine my surprise then, to find this little video in my inbox this morning. It's of Mark Kleiman talking about his new book, entitled When Brute Force Fails.

Kleiman's basic thesis is that for too long we, as a society, have erred on the side of severity which has been inconsistently applied.

What we need to do, says Kleiman, is provide consistent and immediate consequences. If we do that, we will both reduce crime and put fewer people in prison.

Does this sound like the core tenants of dog training?

It should.

When you are trying to end self-reinforcing behavior, aversive training works quite quickly, provided it is consistent and assured -- a point I made on this blog in an earlier post entitled "The Radical Notion of Consequences.

If you are interested in crime, law enforcement and public policy, I can pretty much guarantee that When Brute Force Fails will be a very good read. Check it out next time you are at a bookstore or library, or order it directly from Amazon.
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Perched

He rocks in the tree tops all day long, Rockin and a bobbin and a

singing his song. Every little bird every chick a dee every little bird on the dog

gone street, Rockin Robin, tweet tweet Rockin Robin

Opps! I am not a Robin

Acrylic on 4x6 masonite panel

UNAVAILABLE

Cesar Millan's New Book

Cesar Millan has a new book coming out the first week of October, and it features Bob Bailey, Ian Dunbar, Joel Silverman, and Mark Harden, among others. .As the Amazon description notes,

Cesar takes on the topic of training for the first time, by explaining the importance of balance as the foundation for a healthy relationship between you and your dog. In order to provide a variety of training options, he calls upon some of the foremost experts in the field to offer their advice so that you can find the perfect approach that works for you and your dog through a variety of methods.

Filled with practical advice, anecdotes, tips, and trouble-shooting techniques from Cesar and his colleagues, this is the ultimate guide to a well-behaved and well-balanced dog—from a new puppy to an old dog who can still learn new tricks.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The Only Training Book You’ll Ever Need

#1 New York Times bestselling author Cesar Millan shows you how to communicate well with your dog and shares the most effective and humane methods for teaching your dog how to be a happy, well-behaved member of your household. In Cesar’s Rules, he’ll address:

* The most popular training techniques, including positive reinforcement and using a clicker

* Ways to teach basic obedience commands sucha as sit, stay, and come

* The importance of balance, and why a well-trained dog does not necessarily mean a balanced one

* How to use your dog’s own natural inclinations to create better behavior

* The methods and theories from a variety of renowned trainers, including Bob Bailey, Ian Dunbar, Joel Silverman, and Mark Harden

* Encouraging and honoring your dog’s instincts.

I predict it's a best seller! To pre-order, click here.
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Iran's OK With Terrorists, But Not Terrierists

Iran is creating dog prisons for confiscated dogs.

From The Telegraph comes this story:

Iranian authorities have banned all advertisements for pets, pet food and other pet products.

The decision by Iran’s Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance comes after the fatwa was issued by powerful cleric Grand Ayatollah Nasser Makarem Shirazi.

While keeping dogs as pets has become increasingly fashionable in Iran in recent years, the fatwa cited Islamic tradition, which dictates that dogs are unclean.

• Related Post:
  ** Why There are So Few Muslim Terrierists
  .

Looking Up

Waking up this morning I did not feel like I had been lifted by a crane and dropped square on my back at some point during the night. In fact, I could open my jaw more than a crack and only my hips popped when I exited bed left.

Also helping matters, the sun was streaming through our bedroom window for the first time in days, and I could recall some vivid good dreams for a change. In one, I won some game at the casino for hitting "Double Zero" whatever that means. No one had ever done it in the existence of the game and the whole place was cheering. In this dream I had long, thick dirty blonde hair that I kept tied in a low braid which hung at my shoulder. To me, this is symbolic of good things to come.

Last night we went out to my parents' house. I took a nice, deep nap on their living room recliner while my mom dozed off in the recliner next to me while absentmindedly watching her soaps. Then I stumbled my way down the familiar hallway and continued the nap on my parents' bed. I felt my mom drop drop a soft blanket over me. Out I was until I heard the garage door opening below the room signaling my Dad's return from work. It was a familiar and comforting feeling remembering all the days that I would snuggle in for a nap on top of their bed watching "Duck Tales" and "Rescue Rangers" after school while my Mom cooked dinner until my Dad came home and the smells of ground turkey sizzling in the kitchen became too inciting to remain napping any longer. Last night it was the spicy scents of Mexican spices and the sound of crisp lettuce being cracked off the head that lured me out to discover one of my favorite dinners: "Make Your Own Taco Night".

Craig, my dad and my brother had appeared while I was napping and we enjoyed a great dinner and a little game of "Battle of the Sexes" out on the screened porch. As it got dark my sister pulled in from a long day of Park Rangering and my brother's childhood friend came down with his mom, whom I hadn't seen in years and years. We laughed at his stories of being a beach lifeguard on the South Carolina shore. Over bowls of Peaches & Cream chocolate raspberry mousse we heard about the women who would ask him to take his shirt off and pose for photos. We heard about the man who would come every day, booze it up, and tie an invisible fishing line to a perfectly shaped conch shell, set it up so that it was rolling in the tide and watched and mocked as people nonchalantly tried to pick it up while he mysteriously reeled in the line and pulled it out of their grasp. Fantastic!

We got home and I hit the pillow hard. I think the change of scenery did a world of wonders.

A Spot of Tea?

A Spot of Tea?

On the table is a steaming cup of water. In the saucer nearby

rest the teabag. Spicy and warm it is both soothing and relaxing.

The orange flavor only tends to make me want more.

Acrylic/ 6x8 canvas panel

http://angelasullivan.fineartstudioonline.com/works/491350/a-spot-of-tea

Louis Armstrong :: What a Wonderful World

George David Weiss, who wrote this song in 1966, has died. He was 89, and also wrote "Can't Help Falling in Love" and "The Lion Sleeps Tonight."
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My Wife Knows Everything

This race is dedicated to Tiger Woods, whose divorce was finalized today.
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Man in Motion

I came across this Dennis the Menace strip today, and was happy to find that it was very similar to a sketch I did just the other night. Though usually suited for the process of animation, it's important for any artist to have a solid understanding of how a motion is executed, step by step. In my case, I was trying to draw the final dip in a waltz, but I couldn't figure out how exactly the dancers got into that position. So, I backed up the video and drew them as they got there. Preston Blair, in his book Cartoon Animation, goes into great detail about the stages in lots of different motions (walking, running, sneaking, jumping, etc.).

For comics, a study like this can give characters' movements much more credibility, even if they are just static images. As I've said before, there is a strong difference between someone posing as if they are running, and a still image of someone running.

Gene for Pit Bull Brain Disease Identified

From the ScienceBlog comes news that the gene responsible for a genetic disorder in American Staffordshire Terriers (aka Pit Bulls) has been identified.

A North Carolina State University researcher has helped to locate and identify a gene responsible for a fatal neurodegenerative disease that affects American Staffordshire terriers. This same gene may be responsible for a similar rare, fatal disease in humans. Its discovery will lead to improved screening and diagnosis of the disease in dogs and is the first step in working toward a cure for both canines and humans.

Dr. Natasha Olby, associate professor of neurology, was part of a multi-national team of researchers who located the gene responsible for a variant of neuronal ceroid lipofuscinoses (NCL), a family of diseases that result in mental and motor deterioration — and eventually death — in the dogs....

....Olby saw the first case of a canine version of adult-onset NCL in American Staffordshire terriers in 2000. Over subsequent years, she found that the disease was a widespread and hereditary problem within the breed, affecting one of every 400 registered dogs. The disease kills the neurons in the cerebellum, which controls balance. Over time, the cerebellum shrinks, motor control deteriorates, and the patient dies or is euthanized.

“The disease became so prevalent because it was a recessive disease with a late onset,” says Olby. “Carriers of a single copy of the mutated gene never develop symptoms, and dogs with two copies of the gene might not show symptoms until five or six years of age, so the mutation was able to take hold in the breeding population.”

Though this class of diseases appears to be more common in Am Staffs, it has also been found in many other dog breeds, including Tibetan Terriers, Dalmations, Labrador Retrievers, Border Collies, English Setters, American Bulldogs, Dachshunds, Polish Lowland Sheepdogs, Miniature Schnauzers, Australian Shepherds, Australian Cattle Dogs, and Golden Retrievers, among others.

The disease tends to start late, and progresses over several years to include poor coordination, difficulty in swallowing, vision and hearing loss, rapid motion of the eyeball (nystagmus), and voice changes. In later stages, there may be seizures, tremors, and gait abnormalities.

A test for NCL is available for Tibetan Terriers, Dachshunds, Border Collies, American Bulldogs and English Setters.
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Cumulative Effects

It seems that the GND chemo has decided to wait until my last dose to show its stuff. It's a sneaky little bastard. Or, maybe it's the shot of Neulasta, something my post-transplant marrow has never endured. Or, it's tremendous anxiety. Oh, or maybe it's the five chemo regimens I have been on, the two autologous transplants I've undergone, and the infestation of an aggressive cancer. Most likely, it's a combination of all of this.

I've never experienced bone pain to speak of from either the Neupogen or Neulasta marrow stimulating drugs, but this time around I see what all the doctors and nurses have been talking about. The past two days have been full of horrendous pain in my back - lower and mid, in my face (primarily my cheekbones), my chest/sternum and my pelvic bones.

I remember my nurse practitioner at Yale saying that I may feel like I'm having a heart attack because of the chest pain. Though, I don't know what the onset of a heart attack feels like, I have seen people in the movies clutching their chests and I've found myself rubbing mine constantly.

When I say bone pain, I literally mean pain IN my bones. Last night while laying in bed it felt like my pelvic bones were under attack by tiny pricking needles jabbing at them from the inside. It's a dull constant pain with an occasional "spasm" of sorts when the little men with the needles come out. I won't take pain meds because they make me feel worse in the head than they help me in the body. I have however conceded to taking sleeping pills, which have helped me to sleep through the night for the first time in weeks. Relaxation methods just weren't doing it and despite all my resistance to them, the fact that my body desperately needs good sleep was more convincing then my fear of drug dependency. Now? No nightmares. No waking up from the pain. And I'm still sober enough to be able to make it to my minimum of two nighttime bathroom trips without falling on my face ... or wetting the bed.

I initially thought I escaped it, but I guess the hand and foot skin issue that can occur from the Doxil waited until now to creep in. It's by no means as severe as it could potentially be, but it still hurts. The skin on my hands and feet feels burnt and raw, and if I don't constantly lotion with the "Udderly Smooth" lotion they gave me (formulated for cow's utters), my skin actually starts to peel off. It feels like when you fall off a bike and scrape your elbow, but only the top layer of skin is left on the pavement, leaving all the little nerve endings exposed to the air. Prime set up for pain when the wind blows past it.

The fatigue is also tremendous. It comes close to how I felt after the DI-CEP. The chemo working against the cancer cells and the Neupogen working my marrow take up a lot of (wo)man power. It's my brain and my body that are so, so tired. There's no pushing through it. I've just been working on balancing and making sure that I accomplish at least one set of physical activity and one productive thing on my list each day so I don't feel like I'm wallowing through the chemo sea like a limbless anemone.

I think that the emo teenager behind the Starbucks counter yesterday thought I was a recent nut house release. I first stared at him for what felt like eternity. Then I stared at the menu behind him for another awkward eternity but I couldn't digest what it was. I literally just saw white words on a black board and held up the whole line until I could put a few of those words together to make a coffee order. As much as it irritated the barista for me to throw him off his fast track, the venti, foamy lattee of choice did help make things a little better.

The weather has been gloomy and rainy which has complemented my physical state - for better or worse. I like the onset of crisp, fall breezes, but the sun could come out any time now. I'm sure that the dreary skies are a contributing factor to my gloomy whining. Also contributing is the weight of the unknown. I still don't have a final treatment plan/timeline ... rough estimate as to when we'll be starting all the allo transplant jazz is mid-September. I have major problems when I don't have answers and next steps and I am working very hard on changing that about myself because it doesn't do me any good to freak out about what I can't control. I need to focus that energy on things that I do have influence over.

Everything depends on my Sloan doctor's review of my PET Scan, which is coming up next Thursday, Sept. 2. Everything else will fall into place after that. I have to trust the process and let go. The only problem is that it's the only thing I can think about. And if I'm not thinking about the transplant, I'm thinking about how to not think about the transplant.

The Old Farmhouse

The Old Farmhouse

Late in the afternoon across the wheat field the house stands in the distance,

the last bit of evening sun making it stand out like a jewel among

the golds and greens of the landscape.

UNAVAILABLE

Exactly Right

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Kenny B's Grandfather Passes on a Lesson in Dogs

Kenney B. writes:

Thank you ever so much for running a wonderful site. I am glad that someone has clearly stated what has been known for so long.

As a kid growing up I was around my Grandfather who raised Catahoula Cur dogs to work cattle on his farm. The dogs were used at least twice per week to bring cows from the woods to pens, for round ups to castrate calves, to pen cattle heading to the sale, to pen cows for worming and vaccination, and to hunt hogs that were turned loosed by a misguided hunter. This was a tradition, a way of life passed down from his father. When he was younger, and in his father's day, they had no free-range laws and the dogs were used to work cattle and hogs that were loose in the woods. He admits that it was a lot more work for everyone involved, back then, including the dogs.

I inherited coon hunting and hounds from my father. As a result. to compete in the events the dogs had to be registered with the Breed Club that you were hunting them in. So naturally I thought that the registered dogs were always better. Heck, registered dogs cost more; they must be better -- look what they are worth.

As I aged, I figured that I would provide my grandfather with a present. What better than a registered dog from the breed that he love, a Registered Louisiana Catahoula Cur. Boy I was proud of myself and just knew that Grandpaw would love the present. I am glad that he loved and cared for me regardless of the gift. It turned out to be a disaster and a great learning experience.

The dog turned out to be a complete buffoon. My grandfather knew it from the day that I gave him the dog and actually castrated the dog as soon as the testicles descended. I couldn't understand it. No other dog that he owned was castrated. Why in the world would he castrate the "well breed registered dog" that I bought him? The reason was he didn't want the pure breed stock to screw up his mixed up mutts! I now know that he only kept the dog because it was a present and he didn't want to hurt my feelings. I had seen him knock better dogs in the head because he wasn't feeding an animal that couldn't do the job he kept them to do. As it turns out the dogs was almost deaf and really very unintelligent.

That is when Paw Paw began to school me on dogs.

You don't own a dog that doesn't have a purpose.

You don't keep a dog that can't perform the job he was bred to do.

Paper is for wiping your rear, not to show how good a dog is, that is proven (can't be shown on paper) when you put him to work.

Never buy a dog from someone who just raises and sells dogs.

. . . and much more than I couldn’t have learned else where

Then he began to tell me how the registered dogs had all kinds of problems. Most people that owned them didn't even use them except for decoration and a conversation piece. He said he didn't want dogs from people that didn't know what a dog was for. Then he went on talking about how people liked dogs with certain colors, glass eyes, and all kinds of features. He knew he wanted a dog that could work. He would breed his dogs to others dogs that really worked and it wasn't always a Catahoula Cur. Heck it didn't even have to be a "pretty dog". Some were fuzzy, funny colored, and could be considered ugly by someone who didn't know a damn thing about dogs. They might not have looked it to the untrained eye, but the dogs were healthy, structurally sound, weren't too big, could work in the heat for hours on end, and they were beautiful to anyone who needed to get the cows into the pen. They were the real deal. He wasn't in the business of raising and selling dogs. He raised cattle and used dogs as a tool.

He knew something 30 years ago as common knowledge, and he passed the information on to anyone who had an interest and capability to understand what he was speaking about.

Since then, my dealing with dogs became a lot more fun. I began to enjoy the dogs again. I found pleasure and happiness in mutts. Some of my best remembered hunts came behind a dog whose father was only known as “The neighbor’s sneaky damn cattle dog” (according to Grandpaw). I gave up the high dollar hunting dog meets, and politics that go with it. Even then my dad wouldn't let us show the dogs in the beauty contest. He knew that didn't matter and in the words of a many a coon hunter "The bullshit stops when the tailgate drops".

I have now found a love for the terriers. They don't eat as much as those big old hounds. I ain't ever had to chase one all night to get him off a deer. They are easily accepted by others and don't look vicious. They do well with the family and live with us rather than in the kennel out back. They tree coons and possums, hunt squirrels, they can run a rabbit, they do it all, and most deer hunter don't mind me chasing critters where they deer hunt. With the walkers and blueticks. they were always scared that they were going to run the deer out of the country.

It goes on and on. I too have seen the ruin of many a breed of dog by the registering bodies. Just like people a dog can't be judged by who his daddy was.

I have enjoyed finding like minded people as you.

Again THANKS,

Kenny

Thank YOU, Kenny!

A great letter and a great lesson in dogs. Thanks for passing it on, in more ways than one!
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Blue Green Frill

Blue Green Frill

Not just any mask will do.

She dons a sapphire gown with emerald green chandlier ear rings.

She searches through many mask, Red , Yellow, Gold, Silver but none of those

will work. As she is about to give up she spots it, Blue green frill. She reaches

deep within her purse and hands the store clerk a fist full of coins, rare gold coins

that she has saved for such an occasion as this.

No Longer Available

The Ways We Sit

There are a surprising number of things that go into how a person sits down. I'm not talking about the muscle movement--that's a whole other post. What I'm talking about is the fact that hardly anyone sits with their back straight, eyes forward, hands folded in their lap, feet facing forward, with a pleasant expression on their face. I say "hardly" because I just drew someone who did exactly that, which brought this detail to my attention.

If a person is relaxed, they will sit differently than a person who is laughing. When a person is listening, their head might be forward a little. Lots of people talk with their hands, so if they are explaining something, that could have an effect. Lots of people slouch or shove their shoulders forward. Guys cross their legs one way, and girls cross them another. I've even heard that people will sometimes cross their legs towards the person they are attracted to, but I'm not sure how true that is. The point is this: all the different attitudes, personalities, emotions, physical dispositions, and tones of a scene determine how a person sits. I raided my photo reference library for a few examples of this: natural and posed.

Faking Animal Cognition at Harvard

Marc D. Hauser of Harvard, author of Wild Minds: What Animals Really Think, has been nailed for faking at least some of his research.

You can read the story here, and read into it what you want.

Human Generosity is Astounding

This weekend I was brought to tears several, several times. Me, who is not a crier. And no, I was not crying out in pain, frustration, fear or anger, but instead out of pure love and appreciation.

Craig and I, as well as everyone who got to bear witness, were so overwhelmed by the outpouring of support at the stem cell donor drive held in my honor this weekend. Under the leadership of my mom's former colleague, Ginny, a tremendously giving (and organized) soul whom I hadn't seen since high school, the day went without a hitch.

There were so many friends who stepped up to volunteer, to organize auctions and raffles, a bake sale and "Team Karin" t-shirt and bracelet sales. Our friends and my mom's nursing friends were there volunteering to pack HLA testing kits, to help people get swabbed and to help them fill out health history forms. In fact, 156 new people were added to the National Bone Marrow Registry because of this event. We can only hope that that means many, many matches for those in need of a donor. Even those who are already on the registry, or unable to donate, were there in full support.

Elementary and high school friends, four of my elementary school teachers, family friends, Aunts, Uncles, and our Grandmas, my high school volleyball coach, boss, and attorney all showed up. Though delayed by extensive traffic, even my college roommate and her husband made the trek up from Virginia to show their support. And it wasn't just people that knew me, Craig, or our families. There were perfect strangers there as well, willing to step up and do a good thing for someone else.

I heard many stories of successful stem cell transplants and many pep talks and outpourings of faith and positivity that I will come out strong on the other side of this. And it was reinforced over and over how fortunate I am to have my beautiful sister (or "cell mate" as she's coined) to take this next step with.

Early in the day a man and woman in their early thirties came up to introduce themselves to me. The man was balancing a boy of about three years old on his hip who dug his face into his dad's shoulder when I waved and winked at him. His wife explained to me that this young dad also has Hodgkin Lymphoma, but that unlike me, he does not have the life-saving stem cell match that he needs.

He has been waiting for more than a year to get the chance at an allogeneic transplant – his last treatment hope. His face was ashen and sunken and you could tell that all the chemo and the anxiety had taken such a toll on this young family. He had relapsed four times and already had an autologous transplant which did not cure him. Despite all of this, they were there and were so appreciative that the event was being held and so happy to have so much awareness spread about the donor need.

They are now just continually trying different chemo regimens to keep the lymphoma at bay until a match can be found for this man. The woman's eyes welled as she told me that the doctors are running out of drug combinations and that they are at the "end of the rope." I had no words but to say to them that I will send them light and love every single day and that I hoped with all of my heart that his HLA match was there in that room. He looked back at me with beaten, sullen eyes, but I could see that he still had that deeply imbedded glimmer of hope. I'll never forget their faces.

It was moments like that which happened throughout the day that made me so appreciative that I was able to get myself there. No, I did not feel well. No, my counts hadn't recovered, but I wanted to be there to tell people in person how much it meant to me for them to register, to volunteer, to donate.

Flying on pure adrenalin from the kindness all around me, I would take a seat when the room started to spin and my knees started to get weak. I stuck as well as I could to the "no hugs/fist bumps only" policy, carrying my mini Purell bottle in hand for fear of contracting anything.

At one point I found myself alone on a chair. Probably the first time all day that I wasn't being shuffled from reminiscing with an old friend to meeting someone new to huddling with my family. The raffle prize and auction winners names were being called and as I watched the hundreds of donated prizes go into the hands of these generous people it just all took hold. My shoulders started to shake and my lips quivered uncontrollably until I couldn't hold the flood gates any longer. So much was being done to lift our burdens – financially, emotionally, spiritually.

I looked around at all the faces of those who had given up a beautiful summer Saturday to be on their feet – all day – on the unforgiving concrete floor of a firehouse simply because they care about us. The reality of that was just overwhelming ... a good overwhelming.

A huge thank you to everyone involved.

"A Veritable Human Crufts"

Click to enlarge

In The Daily Telegraph, Ed West notes that inbreeding within the U.K.'s Pakistani immigrant community has made at least one insular neighborhood "a veritable human Crufts."

Nice.

The ironic bit here, of coure, is that the British National Party will no doubt use this as a catspaw for anti-immigrant sentiment, even as the Kennel Club's most fervent supporters pledge allegiance to inbreeding within the world of dogs.

Right. Discuss among yourselves. In the meanwhile, here's a little clip from Ed West's column:

It’s a strange irony that mass immigration, which is supposed to bring us diversity, has led to a massive increase in inbreeding.

Multi-cultural Britain was meant to be a Benetton advert of ethno-diversity, a new population as beautiful and colourful as that of Brazil, but hopefully without the massive levels of violent crime, inequality and squalor.

Instead, where once inbreeding and its related genetic problems was exceptionally rare in England, it is now commonplace; where this country was once a nation of mongrels (albeit pasty-faced ones), now we have plenty of thoroughbreds.

Bradford is a veritable human Crufts, with over three-quarters of the city’s ethnic Pakistanis marrying their first cousins, and this figure is not hugely above the national average of 50 per cent. Compare this to the percentage of British-Pakistanis who marry whites, 0.7 per cent, or British Hindus, just 0.1 per cent.

Unsurprisingly this has led to serious health problems, as television presenter, Tazeen Ahmad, explores in tonight’s Dispatches, “When Cousins Marry”.

As she writes: “We know the children of first cousins are ten times more likely to be born with recessive genetic disorders which can include infant mortality, deafness and blindness.

“We know British Pakistanis constitute 1.5 per cent of the population, yet a third of all children born in this country with rare recessive genetic diseases come from this community.”

• Related Links:
  ** Fearing Foreign Blood at the Kennel Club?
  ** Darwin's Little Lesson on Inbreeding
  ** Kennel Club Chairman Concedes It Can Take Action
  ** Inbred Thinking
  ** Eugenics Man and the Kennel Club
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Final GND Chemo

I've completed my two cycles of GND chemotherapy without any major complications and with the hope that it has put me into a sufficient enough remission to be able to jump right into the stem cell transplant process.

My final infusion was last Thursday at the Avon cancer center. This was different from my normal Wednesday rotation and that means a different cast and crew. However, I've been there so much for bloodwork and shots now – on every day of the week – that I know all of the nurses and secretaries and they all know me. The oncologists are a different story though and I had to see someone else as Dr. Dailey was on vacation. My white blood cell and platelet counts were still pretty low from my previous treatment. He was hesitant to treat me with a WBC of only 2.4. But after I explained to him the timeline we are on, the aggressiveness of the cancer, and the next hurdles I'm up against, he conceded. He agreed to treat me with the understanding that I'd have to get a dose of Neulasta the next day – the long lasting super-dose form of Neupogen to help me bounce back. I told him I could handle it.

Luckily, my childhood friend and one of the most hilarious people that I know, Jess, came with me for the day o' fun. We've known each other since elementary school days, from games of "Red Rover" at Camp Maria Pratt Girl Scout camp to sneaking to high school parties together. Having her at chemo made the five hours go by so much faster.

Like Kristen, Leanne and Thea previously did, Jess also brought sacks full of snacks. The doc joked that she was part of a moving crew. So we munched on Poppycock and talked as she learned firsthand about the chemo process and what it's all about. We lucked out and once again got a private room, which was good as we were probably obnoxiously loud. We kept the door shut though. I'd pass the "community" chemo room on the way to the bathroom each time and would shudder at the eerie silence of patients in there sleeping in their chairs or reading in silence. You could hear a pin drop except for the deep whir and occasional beeps of the IV pump machines. For me that is torture. I much prefer my chemo sessions set to laughter and music.

Jessica knows this and made the most hilarious game for us to play. It involved guessing the status updates of our Facebook friends. She'd read an update and I'd have to guess who posted it ... some were new posts, some from a few months back, but all hilarious. I couldn't believe how many I remembered and realized, sadly, how much time I spend on the site. Even with major chemo drug brain I believe I got about 93%.

We went through the whole pre-med and three drug scenario one last time, complete with the ice packs tied to my feet and hands during the Doxil drip. Everything went as smoothly as it could though afterward I was pretty shot.

That night things really started to set in and I felt very woozy, swollen and tight throughout my whole body. It seemed that the cumulative effects of all the chemo really set in. It felt like all the negative aspects of being very drunk. Not a good buzz, but instead a room-spinning one. All I could do was lay like a blob on the couch and watch trashy television a la Jersey Shore.

To be honest, things really haven't improved much since Thursday. I am very, very, very fatigued. The most menial of tasks require a lot of effort and get my heart pumping. Once I do lay down I can hear and feel my blood coursing violently through my veins as my heart works in overdrive. I mostly hear it in my ears, a thunderous pulse. I wear the fatigue in my throat and chest which each feel swollen and ravaged. At times it is hard to talk at a normal volume because it strains too much. My hip and hamstring muscles are constantly knotted and immediately shrivel back tight against my bones even after the longest of stretches.

But I am here and I am done with this current protocol – now the fifth chemotherapy regimen under my belt. For that I am grateful and hopeful that it did its job. I'll be back in NYC Sept. 2 to find out the answer from a PET Scan.