Happiness is Digging in Sand

One of Bella's favorite occupations in Baja was digging. Sand is so easy and she would dig for long, long stretches of time! The nice thing was how easy it was to refill the hole. My husband was worried she would try the same antics at home. No. Not even interested. Too much work!

Food Again

Anyone who has followed this blog knows that over the past year I've been poking my nose into improving Bella"s diet. I've researched raw and home-cooked until I'm more confused than ever. My final straw was a friend who remarked to my lamenting, "What's wrong? Is Bella sick? Is she not eating? Does she have allergies?" To which I could happily and honestly say, "No, she's fine; I'm just curious." This, of course, is why we have good friends because they cut to the quick. Her departing comment to the conversation was, "Why are you so worked up about it if buying good commercial kibble works?"  How can you fight that argument?

But still, I was unsettled. Since we returned from Baja, Bella has had what I call a "bothersome butt." She licks it frequently. She's been on Trifexis since before we left. I've seen no evidence of worms in her stool, yet something is bothering her. She has always farted when she sat (a somewhat oddly charming personal trait of hers), but is doing more so now. If the bottom licking continues into next week, I'll take a stool sample into the vet, but until then, I've been focusing once again on her food.

When we hit the border coming back into the US, she was nearly out of food (Acana), so it was necessary to get more. I stopped at Costco to pick up some things for us and noticed they had a grain-free kibble and got that. But is it as good for her as Acana? I doubt it (though it is given 4 out of 5 stars by DogFoodAdvisor). To help with her "issues," I picked up a couple of cans of organic pureed pumpkin, thinking some extra fiber may help. And then came across some videos on choosing good food for your pup by Dr. Karen Becker, a holistic vet. I approached the videos a bit skeptically as she is affiliated with a site which sells products, but I was quite pleased that she doesn't promote any brand in these videos. The argument she made for raw that I found most compelling was that kibble is dry and dogs need around 70% moisture in their diet and they receive that from eating raw. My vet has said several times, despite Bella's huge water slurping consumption, that my favorite girl-dog is a bit dehydrated. Dr. Becker's comments along with my vet's persuaded me to get more serious about introducing raw food into Bella's menu. At this point I am not going 100% raw, but am certainly willing to incorporate it into her daily food regime—along with going back to Acana when her present kibble is gone.

Take a look at Dr. Becker's two videos and tell me what you think. Are you already feeding raw? What results have you seen in that food move? If you aren't presently feeding raw, are you toying with moving that way—and why?

Video 1: Choosing the Right Dog Food/Part 1

Video 2: Choosing the Right Dog Food/Part 2

Poisons, Breeds and Names

Oh my! I found a series of stories regarding common household poisons your dog might ingest, along with the most common name of said dog and most common breed called in for suspected poisoning. Bella is the most common name and a Lab is the second most common breed. Can't say I'm surprised on the latter. I remember chatting with a cashier after I purchased a sealable container to store Bellie's food. (This, of course, was after she ate nearly half a bag and had a stomach that did not return to its normal shape for days.) The cashier's Lab ate a Costco package of light bulbs leaving only the metal twist bottom behind. Unbelievably, her dog was fine. But having witnessed Bella's mouthy penchant, I know she will eat nearly anything if it entices her. (Think brillo pad.)

Here is a list of the most common household poisons (for 2011) your pup may ingest and what to do if you suspect poisoning. (It is from this article which carries more detail and is a good, if short, read):

1. People Food (think chocolate, raisins, etc.)
2. Insecticides
3. Rodenticides
4. NSAIDs (Ibuprofen, Advil, etc.)
5. Household Cleaners
6. Human Drugs (anti-depressants)
7. Garden Fertilizers
8. Heavy Metals
9. Acetaminophen
10. Veterinary Pain Relievers

The most common breeds and names of dogs to be called in to the Pet Poison helpline last year can be found in this article. It seems Labs rank right up at the top (second to mutts). My girl is a LAB/Aussie cross, but personality-wise, she's all Lab, but it gives her a double whammy of being a mutt mixed with a Labrador Retriever. Oh my! The most popular name? Bella! Of course, name has nothing to do with anything, and because you have a particular breed, doesn't mean it is more likely to be poisoned. However, if your pup is a chow hound like my Bella, beware and keep those poisons well out of your dog's way.

Does Your Dog Really Understand You?

I ran across this article on canine communication skills which I found very interesting. I particularly like this sentence:

"...evidence that humans and dogs may be undergoing cognitive convergent evolution with each other based on our close social relationships over the millennia."

This article targets another which goes into more detail about the convergence of canine/human understanding.

"However, although wolves are generally equal to or better than domestic dogs at memory tests and tasks involving general problem-solving abilities, wolves (even those raised by humans) are simply unable to match the performance of dogs at spontaneously using human social cues to solve problems."

We often take it for granted that our pup "gets it" which is expecting an awful lot from a different species. Yet it's a two way street in that you know when your dog wants something, isn't feeling well, that something is going on. Without an awful lot of sleuthing, you can usually figure it out—not much different than your pup trying to perceive your desires.

I find it exciting to think that we (humans and dogs) are able to communicate and that it will only get better (my extrapolation). When I talk to Bella, she cocks her head. I know not all dogs do this (Bella is my first pup that does), and that doing this doesn't mean that she truly understands what I'm saying. But the action makes it look like she is concentrating and trying to intuit my conversation. I know I've asked her numerous times, "What is it that you're trying to tell me?"

Right now she's telling me it's time for our morning walk.

Home!

We returned from warm and sunny Baja to a cold and snowy northwest. It doesn't seem fair although the comforts of home outweigh the frigid temps! It took a little over a week to get home.

We camped at three new places coming up the peninsula—each beautiful in their own right. Our first stop was in San Ignacio; Bella was in heaven. We stayed at a tiny little campground right on the river. I'm sure in warmer, calmer weather the bugs would be incredible, but we were blessed by a stiff wind that kept them at bay. Bella was able to run around (no one else was there) and swim. Lots of chuck-it in the water.

Rediscovering the "white stuff."

Our second stop was in Scammons Lagoon on the Pacific. Again, it was deserted except for the whales. We spent hours watching them spout, spy hop and surface. It was beyond thrilling. Our last night in Baja was also on the Pacific. A couple nights in San Diego with family and friends and then on to the eastern California route north.

Ha! We got to Lone Pine and learned that a huge storm was coming in, so our desired route was 86'd by weather. The reports threatened up to five feet of snow in the Sierras with gusts nearing 100mph! Talk about taking the excitement out of the drive! We camped south of Lake Tahoe and Bella got to run in the snow, but the winds started during the night and rocked the van so severely, that we got up before 4AM and started driving. We made it over the Sierras before the brunt of the storm hit us, so although it was a boring drive up the interstate, we made it back without incident.

Our first morning home, we woke to snow on the ground and this morning, Bella refused to go on a walk. So much for a warm sun! We have a fire going in the stove; Bella is tucked up close and I think I'll bake some bread despite the desire to start gardening.

Hurt Again!

Arg! This is driving me crazy. Bella did something to her back foot again and is putting no weight on it. We have checked it multiple times for thorns, but cannot find anything. There are no cuts. I've extended and contracted her leg to see if there is an issue there. I've moved her toes and her foot around. All of these are coming up with nothing. I'm beside myself with worry. She isn't licking any part of her foot or leg, but she also isn't moving around. FOOTNOTE: There is a local retired vet in the area and though we did not intend for him to look at Bella, we sought his opinion on whether we should take her into town. He was kind enough to give her a brief examination and determined that she had probably sprained her toe. Luckily nothing was broken and there were no thorns. It was one of those head-slapping moments that when shown both her back paws, it was obvious one toe was quite a bit larger. My vet had sent me down here with some anti-inflammatories and he suggested I give her some for a couple of days. After a quiet day yesterday and one pill, she's doing much better today. Although still favoring the foot, at least she is putting some weight on it. I didn't take her on the morning women's walk, but will take her on one short one today and maybe two small ones tomorrow.

How to Speak "Dog"

I am always surprised when a parent allows their child to run up to pat my dog without first asking me if my dog is friendly. The child's pell-mell approach shows lack of training on how to safely approach an unknown animal. Bella is patient and tolerant, but every dog has a limit. When I see a child approaching, I intercept and explain the proper way to introduce oneself  to an unfamiliar dog. Rarely do I get thanks from the parents. My guess is the information is new to them also.

Recently there have been a plethora of articles on the Internet regarding the bite incurred by Denver's KUSA TV anchor, Kyle Dyer. Here is an individual who is purportedly a dog lover, so we assume that she'd be knowledgeable about handling a strange dog. Apparently not. An article in Huffington Post by veterinarian/animal behaviorist Dr. Sophia Yin, goes through the progression of errors that were made by both the owner and the anchor. In another article, author Michael Curran goes a step further. In his blog entry, he states that in a series of articles, he hopes  

...to answer some of your questions, pique your curiosity in regards to dog behavior and communication, discuss why dogs bite, and finally how to be a friendly stranger and more responsible dog owner. 

Mr. Curran gives some background information (number of dogs that annually fall through the ice in the Denver area) and more details about the specific bite incident, including how the TV channel and animal behaviorists handled the situation after the fact. He brings up some very good points and I look forward to reading the rest of his series.

Depending on the sources you read, annual dog bites in the U.S. is a big deal. One site, dogbitelaw.com, states:

In 2010 there were 34 fatal dog attacks in the USA. More than 350,000 dog bite victims are seen in emergency rooms every year. Approximately 800,000 victims receive some form of medical attention annually. Based on data collected in the USA between 2001 and 2003, the CDC concluded that there were 4.5 million dog bite victims per year.

The American Humane Association has a long list of bare statistics that on their own are quite staggering. However, the National Canine Research Council (NCRC), counters with how difficult it is to gather accurate information. (Is it a playful nip from a puppy or an unprovoked, angry bite that breaks the skin? What is the difference between a good Samaritan being bitten helping a dog or a police dog stopping a criminal?) Adding to the confusion on gathering accurate bite statistics, the NCRC states that for animal control, the impetus is to assess if the biting animal is current on shots rather than the circumstances surrounding the bite itself. They go on to say:

[A] form used to record an animal exposure, probably called a bite report, will usually include space for a description of the circumstances. Did a dog scratch his owner during a playful romp? Did a dog chase and bite a child riding a bicycle?

Unfortunately, when animal exposures are tallied up, they are released to the public as simple bite numbers. The circumstances of the incidents have been stripped away. In consequence, bite numbers are not an accurate representation of canine aggression, which is, in itself, a general term that is applied to range of different behaviors.

This leads me to believe that we are woefully ignorant of the signals our pets are continually giving us. We expect them to understand us, but too many of us—even those of us who have always owned a dog and feel we "understand" our pet—are clueless at truly comprehending them. Wouldn't it be nice if new pet owners had to take a class on doggie communication? How about teaching people (of any age) how to approach a strange animal? Wouldn't you think parents would consider this a mandatory lesson for their child?

In writing this post, I came across a site called Doggone Safe that has good information about dog communication and recognizing signals given when a dog feels stressed or frightened...or ready to bite. I urge all of you—particularly any of you with children in your home—to look at this site and learn to recognize a dog's signals. The information isn't terribly in depth, but it is a good start in understanding our pets. We all suffer from miscommunication at times, but the more we are able to speak "Dog," the safer all of us—including our dog—will be.

Let me add one more thing. Here's a great cartoon poster of some dog signals from Dr. Sophia Yin. It might be worth printing out for your kids and posting on the fridge!

Glass and Paws

The house we are renting has a huge, fenced yard that is planted, with one exception, only around the perimeter. It doesn't make for a pretty yard, but it does make it pretty good for a game of chuck-it. There is no grass, which is not unusual here. Most yards, even those with fairly intense plantings are sand, and ours is no exception. Where people may mow their lawn at home, here people rake the sand regularly to clean up debris. I don't know how old this house is, but I think it's a fair bet to say the yard has seldom, if ever, been raked.

Waiting for the ball to move.

I haven't done much of a survey of the property beyond regular pooper-scooping and playing ball with Bella. But when she sliced open a pad on her back foot, I began to pay attention. The yard is littered with broken glass, rusted nails and wire, pieces of plastic and broken ceramic tiles. It changes each day as we drive across it or Bella runs through it. New debris surfaces regularly. Every couple of days, I'd make a circuit with a grocery bag picking up shards, nails and anything looking sharp. When Bella cut another pad, I declared war.

I found an old, rusted (what else?) rake and began raking the yard. With each small scratch of the surface, handfuls of glass appeared. It has been hugely discouraging. In five days, I have only covered a third of the yard and when I finish, I realize I'll need to begin again. And I am not the only one doing this. A good friend has come over three separate days and helped me for hours. My husband took over raking today and only did a small section. He was astounded.

I think when the house was built, the workers just threw their beer bottles into the yard. Because this is a rental, perhaps people coming through the neighborhood have recognized that the house isn't constantly occupied and have done the same. Perhaps the owners and other renters have tossed their bottles into the yard because that is culturally not an aberrant thing to do here.

But however they got here, the bottles have broken into zillions of tiny, sharp, paw-cutting, brown, green and clear pieces. Driven or walked over, the glass gets pushed into the sand. With Bella running around the yard, she's churning it back up. I'll finish raking and picking up a section only to have the light play over an area I have finished and it will sparkle with hundreds of missed shards.

My friend says I should leave all the bags for our landlord to see. I'd rather see the glass gone, but perhaps she's right. At least for now, they are a sign of progress for me. I am still hesitant to toss a ball for Bella, but feel slightly better that a very large portion of debris has been removed from part of the yard.

My poor girl. She gave little indication of what had happened. With the first slice, which was the deepest, she neither licked her paw nor limped, so I had no knowledge of what had happened to her until I spotted it. With the second slice, I knew. We cleaned her feet and applied Neosporin. She spent an unhappy day inside with her back foot wrapped up in a sock.

We haven't taken her biking in a week; tomorrow morning we'll take her on a small ride. Tomorrow afternoon, you'll find me back at raking and picking.

Puhleez!

Girls just want to have fun.

Bella has been on a long walk, a short walk, a medium length bike ride, enjoyed a moderate chuck-it session and still she says, "Puhleez! More playtime!"

Some Realities of Baja

Baja is beautiful in a stark and prickly way. There is no "lushness" in the area we are living beyond the  bougainvilleas and other flowering plants some people have added to their landscape. Even though desert plants can be beautiful, they all have a defense system with poison, prickles or spines. The wind is harsh, the sand, sharp edged, the terrain hot and unforgiving.

Culturally, recycling is a new idea and practiced by very few. There are only a couple of outlets where one can recycle and they are tiny and infrequently used. Litter is everywhere (oh the bane of plastics!) and though "No Mas Basura!" (No More Garbage) has an annual community pick-up day, it barely puts a dent in what is flying about. We watched a neighbor dutifully raking her sand yard of bags, cups and plastic bottles and depositing them in a garbage bin outside her gate. The next morning, the bin was tipped over and garbage was everywhere for the cats, dogs and cows to eat. It remained that way until later in the week when the garbage man came by to dump it in a designated arroyo.

In my thrice weekly walks towards the mountains with a group of women and their dogs, we joked, tongue in cheek, about finding our way by certain garbage that has blown into or placed on the cactus. A discarded and broken plastic chair, a worn backpack, a t-shirt tied to a branch, a dead cow. Seeing cow legs, hide or bones is not at all unusual. They are free range and have little to eat or drink. They look skin and bones anyway. Our neighbor's garbage must have been a boon.

Last week I took Bella on a walk different than our normal one with the ladies, but still heading towards the mountains. There, a ways into the bush by the side of the sandy road, tucked at the base of a cactus, was a large, dead dog. I didn't recognize it, but also couldn't approach it. It had not been there the day before. Was it hit and crawled there to die? Had it been poisoned and this was it's final resting spot? Had it died at home and the owner brought it here for the vultures to take care of? Any of those were possible.

The next day when we went by that spot, Buddy was with us. Buddy is the name we've given to a local, large lab/German Shepherd cross. She lives somewhere in our neighborhood and often appears out of the scrub to join us on walks or bike rides. She's sweet as can be and is obviously loved, though allowed to scrounge and roam. The vultures had settled in to their job of clean-up, but Buddy chased them off and I wondered if she did it to "protect" the other dog or for the fun of the chase. Either way, it reminds one of how humbling Baja can be.

New Baja Buddy Moves Stateside

The dogs in Baja are incredible. There is no select breeding going on here. In fact, the dogs are shining examples of not being bred for looks—they are mostly scruffy, bunches of mix and match pieces. Neutering is not a consideration. Certainly male dogs would not be neutered (a macho thing still very prevalent here) and the females are viewed as somewhat of a nuisance as they seem to get pregnant all the time. (I wonder why that is?) Unfortunately, females are often killed because of this.

What these dogs do have, however, is smarts. Most are raised outside and left to fend for themselves, so they either make it or don't. (One friend said they must know not to eat sea slugs. Nope. It's just that those that do, die.)

Since garbage is everywhere and dead cows on the side of a road are not uncommon, there seems to be enough for them to survive. They are savvy to cars, people and other dogs. If they aren't, they don't last. They aren't fighters as it serves no purpose. Not all seek people out, but they aren't skittish either, and will often come over for a pat. I've seen a couple with mange, however, so I always looks before I pat!

Of course, not all owners are oblivious. You can tell some are well loved, if somewhat neglected. Every once and while, you'll come across a little mongrel that is beautiful and you wonder where are its parents? Most of the dogs are on the small side (40 pounds and under).

The gringos have been instrumental in caring for many of the strays—of which there are too many. There is a loose organization of people who take in and foster them, paying for medical care and neutering as well as trying to rehome them.

A friend here is one of those people. She found a beautiful little girl with Dobie markings who at around a year old had already had one litter and when spayed, had eight little pups in her. But the dog, named Lola, was wonderful. Definitely smart, interested in people and in pleasing, with great doggie communication skills. However, Jeanie already had a dog and because of her current circumstances, couldn't have two, so was trying to find a forever home for Lola. Enter stage left—ME!

Meet Lola/K2, our new neighbor!

We have some wonderful friends and neighbors back in the states who lost their dog about three years ago. This past year they have hashed and rehashed whether to adopt or not. Their past dog was a handful, aggressive with other dogs and dangerous around children, so they wanted to be very careful before accepting another pup into their home. They do not board their dog, but depend on friends to care for their companion when they travel, which they do a lot and for extended periods. I told them I'd be on the lookout for just the perfect Baja dog for them.

I emailed them about Lola and sent pictures and added the kicker that in three days the foster parent was flying back to the states and could bring Lola with them. Quite an abrupt decision-making period, but with pictures and videos to view, and a time constraint on deciding, they chose to buy dog food, bed, toys and leash and welcome this sweet little girl into their hearts and home. They have renamed her K2 (they are climbers) and are blissfully in love.

Messing with Sea Slugs

I've written numerous times (search this blog or click here) about the danger of dogs ingesting sea slugs, sea cucumbers or puffer fish. The neuro-toxins they carry can kill a dog within 24 hours. No one has been able to tell me if that means merely nosing them is lethal, though I do know mouthing (but not swallowing) is.

Having been here about a month now, I've heard many personal reports of the what happens and it went from a vague, yet awful story to horrendous. I also mentioned the lack of success with Bella wearing her muzzle, so since the first couple of days here, she has not been on the beach and thankfully, she does not seem to mind.

The past two weekends there have been huge, local paddle boarding, wind surfing and kite boarding events that followed a Thursday-Sunday schedule. These are large fundraisers for the local areas. In our case, the La Ventana Classic raises money for the local schools and is critical in the community for acquiring much needed educational supplies and fixtures. We attended both and brought Bella, on leash without a muzzle.

In Los Barriles, the beach was spotless and we felt it would be good for her to learn how to deal with a crowd of people, children and dogs. In fact, she was stellar. Calm, curious, but not frantic to leave nor get in the water, which I had initially feared she might want to do seeing it so close. In La Ventana, after first checking out the beach where the event was being held, we determined it was also safe, and brought her there also.

Of course, you know where this is heading. At one point, Bella decided it would be fun to excavate the sand and began digging to China. Out of the hole, popped a dessicated sea slug which she immediately dive-bombed and began rolling on. It took only seconds. I hauled her back, shouted for my husband who was busy volunteering for the event and left. Luckily he had driven there with the dog while I had walked. We didn't know if she had touched the slug with any membranes—edges of her eye or mouth—or if bacteria was on her coat, could she ingest it via licking? We wanted to wash her down immediately.

The bath she received was the longest, must sudsy one she's ever received. We were careful not to spray forward toward her face, though it was also thoroughly and delicately cleaned. My husband performed like a surgeon. He was meticulous in how he handled her, the soap, water and direction in which he scrubbed and rinsed. The towel we dried her with was later bleached in a tub of water, then cleaned and dried.

That evening, we were invited to a friend's house for dinner and although they choose not to have pets and are very strict about shoes off upon entering, they understood the circumstances and allowed Bella inside. We had read and heard the progression of symptoms, so spent the evening watching her closely for jerky movements, unsettled behavior and nausea. Periodically, we'd call her to us from wherever she was in order to monitor her gait.

I had read that in humans, a symptom of neuro-toxin poisoning is a numbness in the mouth. I am a very light sleeper, so in the middle of the night, when I heard Bella licking her lips over and over, I sat bolt upright. We turned on lights, asked her to stand and walk, offered her water. How much was she licking? For how long? Were her eyes tracking? Her gait steady? We were a wreck!

Remember we are miles and miles from the nearest city where there is no emergency vet. If something was wrong we wouldn't have been able to do anything until the morning, then a 45 minute drive into town and fingers crossed we could get in immediately. There was also the very real issue of our rudimentary Spanish not being able to understanding them or them us. It was absolutely nerve-wracking.

Luckily, in the morning, Bella seemed fine although we continued to assiduously monitor her for the next 24 hours. It was a tough lesson, but luckily one where the outcome was positive. It just solidified our desire to keep her off the beach—no matter how clean it might look—as something nasty could be lurking below the surface.

Emergency!

This is a great article from the wonderful Bark magazine on how to lessen stress for yourself or your pet's caretaker in case of an emergency—and your absence. Heaven forbid this would ever be necessary, but living in a foreign country makes me very aware how critical these pointers are, especially as my Spanish is so rudimentary.

Last year my in-laws took care of Bella for a month in our absence. Luckily our mindset is similar enough that they would have done exactly as I would have in an emergency situation, But to ask anyone to make a decision for someone else to put down a dog would be gut-wrenching at best. I like the idea of using a health directive. This may not be necessary with family or friends, but would be very important if you are boarding your dog.

Having Bella with us on this particular trip still requires me to be prepared for the unthinkable. I have the name, phone and address of three different, recommended vets in the closest city. Bella is young and healthy, so her records consist of her recent shots. Yet I carry those records with me along with recent photographs of Bella from the front and side. She wears a different collar down here, both with our home information, but more importantly, the phone number of a friend who is local as we don't have a phone here.

When we were traveling with dear Lucy, who was so ill that last several years of her life, we not only brought her prescription drugs, but had backups...and again, names and numbers of locally recommended vets. (This can be found via the Internet if you don't know someone locally who can make those recommendations.)

This article offers some great advise to lessen the stress in an emergency situation. As much as you'd like to think nothing could ever happen, being prepared is insurance that a traumatic situation isn't insurmountable.

Breaking Rules on Purpose

All of us have been victims of silly rules. Rules can be made for bad reasons, but most are created with good intentions and then get tangled in themselves. I came across this link from City Dog/Country Dog regarding a shelter for abused women. The story tells of a woman who was saved from her abuser by her dog. Though injured, they were both able to escape and sought refuge at a local shelter only to be told that the dog was not allowed in. The woman refused to accept that and, thank heavens, the person she spoke with saw reason and allowed them both in.

The shelter is renovating their building so that women can now stay with their pets. The organization understands not only that some women will remain in an abusive relationship fearing for the safety of the pet left behind, but also the enormous therapeutic affect a pet provides for the psyche of the person to whom they offer sanctuary. Three cheers to them for recognizing that particular rule was no longer applicable. Another cheer for offering a separate area for those with pets, so that women, who might find dogs frightening, can be separated and avoid being further traumatized. What a great example of truly serving the needs of those who seek a safe haven in which to get back their lives.

UPDATE: More on this story here: The Rose Brooks Center.

Cactus Hiking

This area is nothing if not prickly. Many, many cactus of different varieties, bushes with thorns, prickers on the ground. I brought heavy-duty dog booties down with us for Bella's tender city feet, just in case...

Today we joined a group of women and their dogs (two miniature poodles and a scruffy pup of mixed heritage) for a hike into the foothills behind town. Of course, I didn't bring my camera. Sorry, no shots, but I promise to try and snap some pictures in the future.

I asked some of the people before we went if they used booties on their dogs and they just snorted. We were hiking dirt roads, not into the cactus per se, so Bella also went shoeless. If she was going to go into the brush, this was a perfect occasion to learn what things needed avoiding and I'm pleased to report that she managed beautifully. She loved the scruffy dog, was not particularly interested in the poodles, marched ahead of all of us and waited for me to catch up when too much distance accumulated.

We left around 7:30AM. Although I'm normally up then, I'm not really functioning, so it took some effort to get enough coffee under my belt to converse intelligently! The temperature was great...even somewhat chilly. We finished up two hours later and you could already feel that it was going to be a hot day. Bella's tongue was long, but she learned as a young pup to drink from a bicycler's water bottle (which I had brought for her), so at least, she had plenty of water. I ended up pouring my bottle into hers.

Now, back at Casa Bella (my name for our house), she's conked out on the cool tile floors until it's time to play again.

Hola from Baja!

We scrambled mightily and were able to bust out of Dodge shortly after Christmas.  Six days of driving including an overnight with family in San Diego, brought us to our new ( though temporary) casita late afternoon on the first. Ah! The relief of getting out of the car and the joy of having a wonderful, commodious house and yard in which to stay. All of us, Bella included, have slept like rocks getting on Baja time.

I had worked with Bella back at home training her to wear a muzzle so that beach walking would be possible. There were a series of warnings before coming here indicating a large influx of poisonous sea slugs on the beach and I didn't want my mouthy girl anywhere near them. Indeed, the beach is littered with them, though she has shown no interest. The muzzle, on the other hand, is a bust. She wore it at home begrudgingly but without incident. Here, she spent her time scrapping her nose through the sand trying to rid herself of the contraption. And let me tell you, the sand here is not soft and powdery, but small, sharp rocks. After two days and only two short walks, her nose was scrapped raw. Enough!

As the beach is not obliging anyway, there will be no more beach walks until they clear themselves of their poisonous contents. In the meantime, Bella and I have been exploring dusty back roads and loving it. She's off leash and minding well.

I am hoping next week to hook up with a group of women and their dogs to join them on their weekly early morning hikes. Bella is dog friendly and has already met many of her four-legged Mexican neighbors. There is one particularly scruffy little fellow whom she seems to be most enamored with. Unfortunately, we did not see him anywhere today. Perhaps tomorrow...

Our Internet connection here is quite "iffy," so though I will try to post regularly to fill you in on Baja life, my posts may be erratic.

Merry Christmas!

Bella wishes you the best for the holiday season!

Christmas Chews

I come from an extended family of pet gift givers. In fact, I live in a neighborhood of dog owners who give other dogs a gift. Not everyone is as picky as I about what Bella is allowed to eat, so it is important to remain diplomatic while sometimes disposing of the treat after the fact.

What won't I give her?

• Anything that says "Made in China." I'm sorry, but too many horror stories have come from there regarding contaminants in human food that there is no reason to believe a pet toy would be higher quality. 
• Any toy that does not say where it's made. There is no reason to believe anything made here is better, but if it says made in the USA, I'm more of a believer. If it gives no place of origin, I am highly skeptical.
• Any toy of a vibrant, unnatural color where the smell is the most prominent thing about it. (This does not include disgusting, but obviously tasty, bully sticks.) What makes it smell like that?
• Any toy that is soft or has loose, easy-to-swallow bits. Bella is too vigorous a chewer to waste the money or risk the hazard.
• Rope toys with lots of color. I know some will be ingested so what dye did they use?
• Raw hide chews. This has been because of choking, but then I read this article in Bark. (I really should buy stock in that magazine. I love it!) If I could make the screeching sound here of tires squealing to a stop, I would. The author's description of how chews are made is enough to stop anyone from ever buying a raw hide chew again.

I quote from the magazine article:

Other poisonous residues that may show up in rawhide include arsenic and formaldehyde. Even dog skin is a possibility. An ongoing investigation of the fur trade by Humane Society International, an arm of the HSUS, resulted in this information, as listed on their website: “In a particularly grisly twist, the skins of brutally slaughtered dogs in Thailand are mixed with other bits of skin to produce rawhide chew toys for pet dogs. Manufacturers told investigators that these chew toys are regularly exported to and sold in U.S. stores.”

I'm sure there are toys that I give Bella that are far from perfect, that do contain dyes that aren't good, but I do try to find out where it is made and of what. In fact, I am almost more careful with what she gets, because I know some of it will be eaten, no matter how closely I monitor.

What I don't feel badly about is letting the gift giver know what can go into the manufacturing of a raw hide chew. It isn't good for any dog.

The Beauty of Aging Dogs

Bella is not an old dog, she's a young pup of two and a half years. Her best dog buddies, however, are mature. Boone is six and Amber, ten. Although they are nice to Bella, her energy can be a bit overwhelming for them. This Christmas, Amber and her owner will be joining us. Bella's half-sister, Molly, a young girl of three who is "mature" by nature, will also be there. There is a chance our in-laws' in-law's dog will be joining us also. If that's the case, he is younger than Bella. I'm anticipating a packed house with a fair amount of chaos.

Amber, the matriarch, and Molly, the mellow, will be the calm in the storm. There is something quite magnificent about an older dog. They know the rules; they are tried and true. Their lovely, graying muzzles exemplify their inherent dignity. They ask very little of your time, but never shirk their duty to greet you, follow you, or lend their head for stress-reducing pats.

Bella's best buddy, Amber.

Our first dog Suzie, was a two-year old pound-puppy  when she came home with me. She wasn't a big dog; at her heaviest she was only a hair over 45 pounds. At the time, dog food had not progressed in "healthfulness" to the extent it has today, but I tried to feed her well and she certainly got plenty of exercise. Perhaps it was her small size and good genetics, but Suzy was mountain biking with us up until she was 14 and even joined us on short rides for two more years. At 16, she was content to limit her activities to non-strenuous hikes and for two more years, small walks. Suz made it to 18. What a blessing she was! She will always have a special part in my heart reserved just for her.

Miss Lucy, my poor sick hound dog, barely crested 11. Even though she was a handful, I felt quite deprived that her time with us was so short. My fingers are so crossed that Bella makes a Guinness record for longevity.

There are two Internet links I want to share with you about old dogs. This one is from Bark magazine about a little, bitty mutt named Betsy who celebrated her 21st birthday back in August. A legal drinker! You go, Betsy-girl! I hope she's still with us; how awesome she's made it so long!

The other site is from the Daily Mail out of England and features some of the search and rescue dogs from 9/11 that are still with us. Look at the pictures. What lovely old faces! If you have an old hound, how lucky you are! If you've adopted an older dog, three cheers to you! Let their loyalty and love bring out the best in you.

"Let's Take the Long Way Home"

"Let's Take the Long Way Home" is a short memoir by Gail Caldwell about her friendship with another writer, Caroline Knapp. It's a sad and tender story about friendship, love and loss. The two women meet through a dog trainer, their love for their young dogs providing the first bond, their mutual respect and admiration for each other cementing it. I had read two of Knapp's other books, "Drinking: A Love Story" and Pack of Two" earlier, so knew a little bit about Caroline going into this story. The book makes you want to love up your pup and hug those friends who know you inside and out, and love you unconditionally.

So my advice is to go kiss your pup and call your best girl friend and let her know how much you love her. No dog gets enough loving and friends rarely hear how important they are, though they may know it intuitively. In the scheme of things, life is just too short.