It’s the annual online photo contest for the Humane Society of the United States and Humane Society International. It’s free to enter and by doing so you can help save animals’ lives. You also have a chance to win prizes such as a shopping spree on the Humane Society’s web store, a studio photography session with Amanda Jones, or even a trip to Hollywood! Your pet could also be featured on the HSUS home page.

Vinny - always a winner

Naturally, my own pets have a very good chance of winning and I mean to enter them all. Your budgie, your burro and even your betta are eligible; check the rules for other pets that can be entered. Then get out the digital camera or start scouring through your old pictures and raise some money for a really great cause. Remember, three to four million cats and dogs a year are euthanized. Millions more animals are simply neglected or abandoned to suffer and die. So be a part of the solution; here’s a fun way to do so.

“If you think that something small cannot make a difference – try going to sleep with a mosquito in the room.”
– Unknown

In recent months there have been three dogs at our local park who were spared that dreadful fate. A precious little chihuahua left on the counter in the public restrooms was given a home by the mother of one of the temporary park staff; a young and very sweet-tempered pit bull was taken home by the girl who found her and eventually re-homed; a darling little dog who looked like a fox went to Southern Hope Humane Society (one of the best rescue groups around) and was very quickly adopted.

Then there was Henry VIII. Let’s resume his story.

Time was running out for our abandoned little Yorkshire Terrier. There were just a couple of days to find him at least a temporary home before I left town. A friend had suggested that Hans, who runs Camp Woof, might be able to help. “Bring him over and let’s take a look,” was the response when I called. So off we went.

My intent was to ask that Hans keep Bailey (as we’d named the pup) either until a permanent home was found, or until my return. Camp Woof has many dog-lovers in and out of its doors every day, so it seemed likely that someone would see Bailey and fall for his irresistible charm. Well, within just a few minutes it was looking as if Hans might be that someone.

Bailey was born to perform. He can do cute better than a dimpled Shirley Temple singing “Animal Crackers In My Soup“, and he certainly laid it on for Hans and everyone at Camp Woof that day. I left him there with assurances that he’d be well cared for and a strong suspicion that he’d be a fixture at the camp by the time I came back.

Sure enough, a couple of weeks later I raced over to the daycare to check on my former protegee and found him ensconced, throne-like, behind the counter, his every whim being catered to by the staff and graciously accepting the adulation of all who passed by. Never was a dog more assured of his kingly status than this petite pedigreed pooch and he had a new name to prove it – Henry VIII.

Henry enthroned

In actuality, Henry was not named for the infamous Tudor of Olde England but came by his name for a more practical reason. He had indeed joined Hans’ already extensive family of rescues and, as it happens, was the eighth dog! So, as Hans tells it, “He had to be Henry the eighth”. Turns out the name was a little serendipitous, however. Henry, though the smallest dog by far in the Hans’ household, in short time was reigning supreme both at home and Camp Woof.

As Hans tells it, when he first came home Henry was a little timid; within a week he’d taken over the household. Seven of the other dogs accepted him immediately, including JJ, the rotweiler mix. Hope, a dachshund mix who didn’t like anyone at first sight, now loves Henry. “His Highness”  grandly helps himself from everyone’s food bowls and none of them object. At night he sleeps with Hans and likes to get under the covers when it’s cold. He insists on sitting on Hans’ lap when being chauffeured around town.

The one thing that Henry will not now or ever be able to do is have an heir to his throne. During my absence, he had received all his shots and been rendered unable to spawn progeny. Not that a bunch of ditto dogs wouldn’t be adorable, but no-one (at least, no-one who reads this blog) wants more little unloved and homeless yorkies running around.

Henry and Hans

If only every story could have such a happy ending as that of Henry and Hans. Theirs’ is a perfect match. It’s obvious that King Henry has no doubt of his status in Hans’ heart and, in return, is devoted to Hans. “He’s such a character,” says Hans. “I can’t imagine my life without him”.

“To his dog, every man is King; hence the constant popularity of dogs.” – Aldous Huxley

Henry VIII

This is Henry VIII, as regal a pup as you will know and ruler of his domain. It wasn’t always that way, though. This is Part I of his story.

It’s not unusual for me to be the first person at the dog park with Angel, Vinny and Coco, sometimes before sunrise. On this particular morning, Bruce and Henry (the biggest little dog in our park), were there ahead of us.

The night had been brutal; horrendous thunderstorms and it was still raw cold and dark. As I got out of the car I heard Bruce calling me from the small-dog park. Ambling over I saw Henry (no, not the Henry VIII who’s the subject of this narrative), who’s a Yorkie, and on the far side of the park was another little dog.

“You got Henry a buddy,” I exclaimed. But no! Bruce had noticed the little pup when he arrived with Henry. “He won’t come to me,” said Bruce. Henry wasn’t exactly helping as he didn’t want the potential usurper to commandeer Bruce’s attention, so I stepped in to try my luck.

It took about five minutes before the little guy let me hold him. He wanted to come to me but was wary and I can’t say I blamed him. He was shivering violently, probably a combination of fear and the fact that he was completely soaked and had a pronounced limp. The hair clinging to his body showed how thin he was and when I picked him up he weighed next to nothing. In spite of his bedraggled condition, though, there was no doubt he was another Yorkie.

Bruce was tempted to take him home but figured Henry would be miffed about that, so the diminutive waif came home with me.

The little waif

We (my husband and I, that is) called him Bailey, after Sir Donald Bailey, a Yorkshire-born engineer who invented the Bailey bridge (and because we had to call him something other than hey you).

Here’s the thing about Bailey. Someone had taken care of him and not so long before. Yes, he was very thin and hungry; yes, he was dirty; yes, he was frightened. But he’d had a professional haircut, he had no parasites and he was used to being handled. When you bent to pick him up he would automatically raise up on his hind legs to be lifted. And once he got over his fear he was perfectly at ease in the house with both the dogs and cats.

After a good meal a trip to the vet confirmed Bailey had no ID and no major health issues. The limp was caused by luxating patella, a dislocation of the kneecap that apparently is quite common in Yorkies and, happily, was rendered OK by a little maneuvering of the joint. A warm bath took care of the last of Bailey’s immediate needs and then the major issue was what to do with him.

Problem was, my husband and I were a couple of days from going away. Making Bailey part of our family was tempting; this pup had personality with a capital “P” and he was just a love. Our pack, however, weren’t the right fit for him. Angel can play too rough and I didn’t want the threesome to gang up on him. And Bailey did have one problem – no housetraining. Not only was it was an issue I didn’t have time to handle, with nine cats and three dogs we already had a tentative “balance of power” and I didn’t need to upset that with a fourth dog marking his territory all around the abode. So, it remained to find Bailey his perfect forever home.

Half a day later and things were discouraging. The Yorkshire Terrier rescue group were only taking the most severe abuse cases because they were over-loaded. Same problem with other groups that fostered out their rescues – no room. A county shelter was simply out of the question; too little oversight of potential adopters. And I’d phoned just about everyone I knew. Then back at the park where our hapless hound was abandoned, a fellow pet parent suggested Camp Woof.

Camp Woof is one of the local doggie daycare centers and Hans, who runs the show, is known to be a complete softie when it comes to strays. This was my last shot, so I made the call.

Part II of Henry VIII’s story will run in our next issue on February 3rd.

“Money will buy you a pretty good dog, but it won’t buy the wag of his tail.” ~ Henry Wheeler Shaw

This is Promise. She was found wandering in traffic outside Denver, hungry, afraid and assumed abandoned. She is available for adoption from Colorado Horse Rescue.

When keeping horses it is important to understand the horse from a horse’s “language.” There is much mystery made by ‘horse whisperers’ and much money made from it when what it boils down to is watching your horse.

The views on horse handling can vary as much as the individuals involved. If you watch horses interact they can be very gentle and yet also quite vicious. A dominant horse will put another in their place with kicks and bites that we humans cannot begin to inflict on them. However if we understand the horse we do not have to.

A firm swat is enough to get through to a horse but this does not mean beating the horse. An adage from a wise horseman is the first swat is discipline, the second revenge. The horse is a physical animal and communicates much with body language.

If you watch a dominate horse walk through the herd she will snake her head low with ears pinned flat – this is a signal that says to others “GET OUT OF MY WAY!”

A male, especially a stallion, will challenge with a raised head. It is this attempt to raise the head higher that can lead to horses rearing to challenge each other.

These things we can imitate by use of a stock whip. This is a last resort to tap the horse but is used to communicate. With a whip we can raise it higher than the horse’s head. We can wave it waist high to tell a horse to move.

We can also stop and allow the horse to approach. A punishment for the horse is to be driven from the herd. In the wild a lone horse is in danger – he can be more easily taken down by predators.

Keep in mind as a prey animal the horse’s two defenses are flight or fight. Flight is running – a horse that is injured or confined loses that option. As handlers we want to insure cooperation and not bring the fight option up.

It is important to remember that a horse can strike, kick, bite and stallions have been known to lie down on and even urinate on a person they have mauled. These are horses that have not had a solid balance of discipline and affection. Too much of one or the other and they can easily lose respect for the human as a leader. The results can be horrific.

Horses that have been abused can, like people, have that fight instinct very close to the surface. For a dominant individual this takes very careful handling. For a submissive individual that fight can be channeled into getting better.

One of your best teachers for communication will be the horses themselves. Watch them interact – the mares with foals and adults with young horses. Even among weanlings of the same age there will be a herd dynamic with boss horses and bottom ones – a “pecking order” so to speak.

The horse, then, automatically understands posturing for dominance and figures who is serious about enforcement and who is not. Those who are serious normally have to do little to maintain their position.

Observe horses in a group and make a note to be that boss animal…the leader. Find ways to mimic their actions. For us a kick or bite can be replaced with a threat or swat with a whip, but even this must be done carefully.

This equally doesn’t mean beating a horse senseless! Remember – being willing to follow through often means you don’t have to. When the horse knows you *will* deliver a swat he sees you as that upper ranking leader. There is no challenging the leader.

Watch the horses – they have much to teach you about their language.

“The horse, the horse! The symbol of surging potency and power of movement, of action.” ~ D.H. Lawrence

“He” was a downright dirty, ragged, maybe labradoodle with a happy grin on his face. The passing car fortunately was moving slowly through our residential neighborhood and braked in time to save him, though the driver gave me a dirty look, obviously assuming “he” was my own out-of-control pooch. The “us” in this equation was me and my dog, Angel, taking an afternoon stroll.

The happy hound, of course, had no ID. And he wasn’t just dirty, he was absolutely filthy and looked as if he had a definite flea problem with bald patches around his rump where someone had made an attempt to shave him. He was however, well-fed, with just the sweetest nature.

This is how a healthy labradoodle looks.

Assuming he might have got loose from someone’s back yard I started canvassing the area. The only thing I learned was that he’d been seen running on a number of ocassions in recent weeks, nobody had a clue where he lived and Animal Rescue had been called a couple of times but, to anyone’s knowledge, were a no-show.

Meanwhile, Doodle (I had to call him something!) was delighted to hang out with Angel. And without an extra lead on me it seemed prudent to head for home, doing my best to canoodle Doodle along. We made it safely and, leaving Angel in the house, I popped the lead on Doodle and went back to the home-searching quest.

Several houses later and still luckless I flagged down a passing kid on a bike and, “Eureka”, he knew the dog and its home. The hound’s name was Yoshi and he lived about three blocks away.

On approaching the house, the next door neighbor happened to come out with her beagle.  She recognized Yoshi, of course, and told me his story. The dog had been adopted from the pound by a mother for her son. The boy, apparently, loved the dog and took reasonably good care of him but in recent weeks the pup had just been let out of the house to roam free every day.

By now I wasn’t too keen on returning the pooch but I hated to part a boy and his dog, so figured a few words of reproach might do. I never got the chance! Mother opened the door, took Yoshi, and slammed said door right in my face! The brief glimpse I got inside was, frankly, ghastly. The dog was no more of a mess than the mother and home. I had to wonder about the son.

Anyway, I’ve since found out that there has been trouble at that unhappy home. The son has been taken away and is living with his grandparents in another town. There have been times, also, when the mother has gone away and left the dog in the house without food and water. The neighbor has been able to feed him through a broken window.

You can be sure I’ll be keeping a careful eye on Yoshi’s circumstances from now on. I may just have to keep walking Angel in that area and, if Yoshi “happens” to follow me home again, he won’t be going back.

There is of course a moral to this story. In fact it goes to the heart of what this blog is all about. It’s all too easy to adopt, or buy, a pet, without the slightest idea of what is required to care for that pet or any concept of the commitment involved. So many animals who are adopted and apparently “saved” from shelters end up right back at another shelter, that is if they’re lucky enough not to be dead.

And there’s yet another little twist to this episode. The neighbor’s beagle isn’t actually the neighbor’s beagle. He was found earlier that morning by the neighbor and her husband when they were out walking. No ID (surprise, surprise!), rather thin and very hungry. He was another sweet-tempered little dog though, unlike rambunctious Yoshi, very shy. According to the neighbor he was not house-trained (another common reason people dump their dogs) and, sadly, she was unable to care for him and had phoned Animal Rescue to come and get him. I just so hope he finds a loving forever home!

“Our dogs will love and admire the meanest of us, and feed our colossal vanity with their uncritical homage.”  ~Agnes Repplier

Christmas Eve

The puppy looked like a carcass when she was found locked beneath the house on the night before Christmas. Her rescuers called her Eve.

Eve’s owner left her for nearly five weeks without food and water. The owner later told the court in Auckland, New Zealand (after she had dodged the system for six months) that she had left the puppy in care of a relative while she went on holiday. While the owner was enjoying her vacation, Eve survived by eating flies and her own faeces.

This happened two years ago. I don’t know what punishment was meted out to the owner (a month locked under the house seems reasonable to me) but, reportedly, Eve is doing well in her new home.

This story touched me particularly. Eve is a Rhodesian Ridgeback / Staffordshire Bull Terrier cross breed. My own Angel, found in similar condition to Eve, is a ridgeback / pitt bull mix. When found, Eve weighed 22 lbs; she should have been double that! When found, Angel was nothing more than a carcass herself. Eve was found in December, 2007; she was 11 months old. Angel came to us in December, 2007; she was 11 months old.

Today, I suspect Angel and Eve could look like twins.

Anyway, here’s the thing. In bringing any pet home, you are taking on a commitment for the life of that pet. It is your responsibility to nurture your pet and, in doing so, I hope you will come to cherish him. Don’t let your pet become another Angel or Eve.

“The kind man feeds his beast before sitting down to dinner.”  ~Hebrew Proverb

Resources: petabuse.com

Cat beaten to death

The cat shown above is not the one discussed in this article but another sad and unresolved case that ended in death for the poor little creature.

Supposedly, six or seven other cats and a puppy had been adopted by this man previously and were tortured and mutilated. In court the man pled guilty to a charge of torturing one cat – the one from the Citizens For Humane Action – in an apparent effort to avoid the publicity of a jury trial. For his crime he was sentenced to 90 days in jail (45 suspended), 5 years probation, mandatory counseling and he was forbidden from owning any living thing during the 5 year probation period.

Here’s the thing. Just how much of this is true?

You know, I’m as sickened and angered as the next person by the brutalization of any animal and when I first read of this incident on pet-abuse.com I thought it would be an ideal case on which to base an article. Problem is, I really can’t find any proof that the horrific acts occurred. What I have found, however, is an online diatribe against this man that smacks of internet stalking. Message boards are filled with hate and vitriol towards him yet no-one has offered any substantive proof of their claims.

Another side to this story is presented here:

http://www.knightsofliberty.com/lyingaboutshonrahrigwedontplayaround.html

Now I’m not defending anyone, nor am I saying that there’s no truth to the allegations. I simply don’t know what the truth is. What I do know is that all too often someone gets the wrong side of a story, or deliberately distorts it, and a host of well-meaning but otherwise ignorant people pick up on it and spread misinformation across the web in a heartbeat. And if this man is innocent, then what has been done to him is almost as callous as the acts he purportedly committed on the cats.

So, please, remain vigilant in your efforts to bring animal abusers to justice but do your research and be absolutely sure of your facts before you condemn someone who just may be innocent.

“Love of animals is a universal impulse, a common ground on which all of us may meet. By loving and understanding animals, perhaps we humans shall come to understand each other.” ~ Dr. Louis J Camuti.

Emily

This sleek black cat is looking for a home on petfinder.com.

History of the black cat

Halloween No Holiday For Black Cats – News Article

October – Black Cat Month

Ancient False Myths Leave Bewitching Black Cats Shunned By some – News Article

How cute is this black cat?

“There are many intelligent species in the universe. They all own cats”. ~ Unknown

Unfortunately, equine abuse is a serious issue and one that appears to be on the rise. The most frequent problem is malnourishment but then, there are cases like this one:

The horse was in the trailer, tied with a rope around his neck. Driving along the road the trailer door came open. The horse fell out and was dragged along the asphalt road by the neck. Here’s the thing – the driver was rip-roaring drunk. And here’s the result of his liquored-up stupor….

This poor beast has an uncertain future ahead of him. Bouncing on his back, sides and legs as he was dragged has flayed his skin to the muscle and bone. With two broken ribs, three injured legs and dangerous swelling, the horse, named Lucky Chance by his rescuers, may not be so lucky as to survive. Painkillers, antibiotics and IV fluids are helping to fight his critical condition but recovery, assuming he doesn’t suffer kidney failure or other setbacks, will take three to six month.

Deputies found the driver of the vehicle stumbling around and saying he was “looking for his horsey”. He was arrested for driving while intoxicated. The man also had no license at the time of the arrest and it was discovered he is wanted for probation revocation. Humane Society officials want him charged with animal cruelty, which could bring up to five years in jail and a $5000 fine for a felony conviction. The case is still open, so no other charges have been filed as yet and may never be.

In the eyes of the law, horses (and other animals) are simply chattel (belongings). They have no rights, which means their abusers can all too easily get away with terrible cruelty. Societies that have governmental authority to take abused animals from owners are often over-worked and under-budgeted, so only the worst cases have a chance of rescue. And as long as retribution is light or non-existent, there is little to deter the brutality and neglect.

As for Lucky Chance’s abuser, the man may even be feeling remorse for what he did but, a drunk is a drunk and probably nothing will change that. So I hope he at least is charged and convicted at the highest level. And I hope that Lucky lives up to his name.

If you’d like to get involved in horse rescue, search for groups in your area or check these sites:

Equine Advocates

International Generic Horse Association

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man”.  ~ Winston Churchill

My family brought me home cradled in their arms.
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.

They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the little girls and boys.

The children loved to feed me; they gave me special treats.
They even let me sleep with them – all snuggled in the sheets.

I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I’m very proud to say!

These are the things I’ll not forget – a cherished memory.
I now live in the shelter – without my family.

Pound puppy

They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn’t know the difference between the old one and the new.

The kids and I would grab a rug, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.

They said I was out of control and would have to live outside.
This I didn’t understand, although I tried and tried!

The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn’t the time.
I wish that I could change things; I wish I knew my crime.

My life became so lonely in the backyard on a chain.
I barked and barked all day long to keep from going insane.

So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, and then each kissed me goodbye.

If I’d only had some training as a little pup,
I wouldn’t have been so hard to handle when I was all grown up.

“You only have one day left”, I heard a worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance? Do I go home today?

“It is a truism to say that the dog is largely what his master makes of him: he can be savage and dangerous, untrustworthy, cringing and fearful; or he can be faithful and loyal, courageous and the best of companions and allies.” ~ Sir Ranulph Fiennes