Lie Down With Dogs, Get Up With Fleas

     If you associate with bad people, you acquire their faults.

His Bark Is Worse Than His Bite

     Uncle Bob's bark is worse than his bite.  If I tell you this about Uncle Bob, what I mean is that his threats are worse than his actions.  It really is a reassuring statement because if you use it in reference to anyone, you are saying that they are really not as unpleasant as they seem.

You Can't Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

     This expression means to do something much more than one can manage.  I personally wish I had a nickel for every time I have heard or said this phrase...

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

     When you, being a human, are accused of "barking up the wrong tree," that simply means that you have made a mistake or a false assumption.

"Every Dog Must Have His Day"

     This is a quote from Jonathan Swift.  It is another way of saying that everyone has a moment of triumph or success.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

     Do not instigate trouble;  leave something alone if it might cause trouble.

   

Dog Days of Summer

     Ever wonder what the phrase, "Dog Days of Summer," means?  I've heard this saying off and on my entire life.  The phrase refers to the sultry days of summer.  It is usually the hottest days of the summer during July and August in the Northern Hemisphere.
     In history, dog days were popularly believed to be an evil time when the sea boiled, the wine turned sour, and dogs grew mad.  All creatures grew languid, and man risked acquiring diseases such as burning fevers, hysterias, and insanity.  It seems like the making of a Stephen King movie to me!
     In latter years, the stock market is referred to as suffering from the Dog Days of Summer.  Some of the stocks become volatile while others only seem to wilt.  The stocks are called "dogs." 

     Upcoming in future weeks, I will contemplate many more dog phrases.

Man's best friend has certainly left his mark on our daily use of language.

Dogs! Dogs! Dogs!  More dog stories and such to come.

Technical Difficulties

Due to Technical Difficulties, I have been unable to post on my blogs for the past two weeks.  Posting will begin again next week. 

He Sheds

             It seems I am never too old to learn new things. My daughter has two dogs. A Labrador retriever named Santana and a Siberian husky named Snyder. I knew both were kept in their fenced back yard. When coming into the driveway, the gate to the back yard is straight before you. I generally took the two dogs for granted. They did their routine barking as visitors came. And then, they would stop. But it was not any barking that day that caught me eyes. I shouted out!

            “What’s wrong with Snyder?” I asked.

            “Nothing!” replied my daughter.

            “But look at his fur!” I shouted.

            It brought only laughter as my daughter proceeded to tell me.

            “Did you not know that Siberian husky’s shed their fur?”

            “I read St. Bernard’s did. Whether any other dog did or not, I never read anything about it. I guess it comes from not being an owner of one.”

            “Well, they do shed their coats. I can’t afford that groomer. We do it ourselves. And just recently a friend came over and we were both in the back yard pulling dead hair from his coat. We stopped well before finishing as mosquitoes like to have eaten us up. I guess there’s some stagnant water around. I need to get back out there and start the process again.”

            “Can you just shave him?”

            “No,” became her startled reply, “You never do that. It can irritate his skin.”

            I now have pictured in my mind that coat. That dog would lose enough to make a pillow.

            With any animal there comes a responsibility. Sometimes feeding is not enough. Of course there are the shots, taking to a vet, etc. Calling to mind, I remember this one time my husband tried taking a bath with our dog. Thinking our dog would get his bath this way. Duh! It was a bad idea. The dog put scratches everywhere on him with his attempt to escape. At the time, it wasn’t funny. But it is now as I think back. It just proves we care for our dogs.

            As for a dog that sheds like Snyder does, I never had one like that. But as humans, we are not beyond going that extra mile for our love of dog. If Snyder were mine, I’d be doing the same thing. I’d be out there cleaning his shedding coat.

The Homeless Dog

            It was a vacant car wash. It was apparently one of many in our city. Upon becoming vacant, it was met with vandalism. I didn’t even know it was there until I took a back road to get to the interstate. The vandals had done a good job on it even down to taking the draining grates in the bays. But still in its run down existence, there was displayed a work of art. For there in sight, upon each wall, was graffiti. Someone had spent hours upon hours painting. To many it may have been seen just as additional graffiti. But to my amazement, I saw art. From then on, a trip occasionally down the back road took me back to additional paintings. It was actually good. Why some great painter was wasting his time on the car wash was a question I ask myself. But being someone who loves to write and yet to get a break, I figured this painter was in the same boat. He was waiting for a break. A true writer writes to be heard. Perhaps a painter paints to be seen. And so; he is upon the walls of a vacant car wash.

            But the story is not about the painter. Instead it is about him/her and their dog making the car wash their home. On one visit, the occupants came out from a back bay. It was a homeless couple.

            “I see you like our home decorations,” the man said.

            “Yes I do!” yelling from my car.     

            But not until the barking dog was called back to his master, did I get out of the car.

            Ordinarily fear may have clouded my thinking. But it was not so as they seemed harmless. I saw the dog as more their protection from me. In fact, I was quick to ask about the dog.

            “Does the dog bite?”

            “Only if he sees you as a threat,” replied the lady. “And he doesn’t. You can even pat him now.”

            The dog moved closer. I reached out a hand. I patted him and he seemed to enjoy my touch.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

            “It’s Jack. He’s just plain old Jack.” She laughed. "He’s our protector. If anyone comes upon us unexpectedly, Jack lets us know. We take good care of him. If not much food, Jack eats first.”
            I smiled as my way of responding.
            I'm sorry I woke you up," I said.  Ï just stopped to take in a little art on my way to work."

            “We certainly can understand that,” said the man. “There are a lot of people who stop by looking at the art work. My wife and I enjoy the company.”

            “I can’t stay,” chuckling a bit from their last remark. “I wish I could stay longer. But I need to go or I’ll be late for work.”

            “Please come again,” both speaking at the same time.

            Getting into the car, I waved good-by.

            It is to this day I still think of that couple and their dog Jack. I go by and look occasionally at the new art work that has been painted over the last paintings there. But the couple and Jack have apparently moved on to another home. I think about the things that can happen out there in this world. Having Jack was a good idea for the homeless couple. The dog was their protector. I notice more and more homeless since meeting those. And, I have noticed, some others have a dog. A dog makes for a good companion. He also makes for a good PROTECTOR!

Happy Fourth of July!

Happy fourth of July to all dog lover's out there.  With taking off  this week for the holiday, the next dog story to appear the weekend of July 19-21.

Old Man Gilbert

            Old Man Gilbert lived the next farm down the road from ours.  Back in the sixties, it was a time of fun to be a kid.  It seemed meanness in the world did not exist.  Or maybe it did, we just never knew.  But as kids, we played where we wanted and how long we wanted.  If it was a day of no work in the fields, we played and rode our bikes.  But we still stopped off to pay our respects to kindly neighbors.  And one such neighbor was Old Man Gilbert.  We called him that because he was old.  But never to his face.  Instead, we called him Mister Gilbert when talking to him.  Even as kids we knew he was old.  But we enjoyed him.  He seemed to know something about everything.  I guess because he had lived so long.  But we could tell Old Man Gilbert was getting even older.  He forgot things and barely did much walking.  He had one son who did not live with him.  But realizing the old man lived alone, he gave him a dog.  It was to be companionship for the old man.  But it was becoming more of a chore for the old man just to keep him fed.  The dog was young and needed more activity than to sit around the house with Old Man Gilbert.  So, there was not much time given the dog.  In fact, he never even named the dog.

            I was a little girl and very close to my brother, David.  It was he and I that visited Old Man Gilbert the most.  The old man seemed to enjoy seeing us come.  While David was more into talking with him, I played with the dog.  And when we got ready to leave, the dog would follow us out to the road.  I really believed that dog wanted to go with us.  But we led him back to the house, opening the door and putting him inside.  The companionship thing wasn’t working for the dog or for Old Man Gilbert.  But I guess he didn’t want to tell his son.  It could anger the son if he had to take the dog back.  After all, it seemed to fill the hole made by the son.  He didn’t visit as much after giving his Dad the dog.

            One day David went alone to visit Old Man Gilbert.  When he returned, following close behind was the dog. 

“You need to take him back,” I said.

“There’s no taking him back,” calmly David said, “Mister Gilbert gave him to me.  He says he won’t be in need of him where he’s going.”

            “Is he moving?”  I asked.

            “I don’t know!  That’s just what he said.”  David paused, then spoke again, “I couldn’t refuse him and so I brought Gilbert home.”

            “Yea, I named him that after my friend, Mister Gilbert,” David said before I got the chance to ask.

            It was David again that went the following day to visit Old Man Gilbert.  Following behind, was his dog, Gilbert.  It was David who came back to the house saying he found Old Man Gilbert motionless in the house.  As Mother and Daddy went to check, they found Mister Gilbert had passed away.

            “Is that what he meant when he said that he would not be in need of him where he was going?”  I asked David.

            “I wonder that myself,” replied David.  “When I found him like that, Gilbert went up to him and licked his face.  I pulled him back.  Maybe he and the dog were closer than we thought.”

            I always wondered about all that myself.  I do know Gilbert lived out a long and healthy seventeen years.  It was a good life for a dog.  Both he and his original master may now be somewhere finally walking together.  Ironic as this statement seems, it becomes obvious to me that anything is possible.  We just have to believe.

How Far Would you Go?

            When you set your mind to something, how far would you go to make it happen?  Newlyweds, Dale and Teresa, would put that question to a test.  Dale wanted a dog.  Not just any dog, but a Siberian husky.  Teresa could care less, but merely wanted her new husband to be happy.  She went on the internet checking sites advertising the dog.  One was found.  A telephone call out of county had her talking with an owner.  It meant a 200 mile drive that began that very evening.  The people were told they would be there around 10 pm.  And true to their word, they arrived at their door step, but without the cash.  They just knew a bank any time teller would be close to where they were going.  So they failed to get the money first.  But once they got there, no bank found.  Surely the people living there would know of a close one.  Sure they did, which turned out to be an hour away.  But anxious to sell the dog, they trusted and waited for their return. 

            A Siberian husky in their area generally sell for three hundred dollars.  This one was sold to them for two hundred dollars.  The cheaper rate given as the dog was no longer a puppy.  The CKC registered dog was put into the car.  The two hundred mile ride put them back into their driveway around 3 am.  They were tired and excited at the same time.  Though they had a fenced yard, no two hundred dollar dog was spending the rest of the night outside.  He was taken inside.  As they both prepared for bed, the dog did as well.  He remained in the same room lying below the end of the bed.

            “What are we going to name him?”  Teresa asked.

            “It so happens I thought about that already,” replied Dale.  “I want to name him Snyder.  Are you okay with that?”

            “It’s okay,” Teresa paused and finally spoke, “After all, it is your dog.  You’re the one who is going to be taking care of him.”

            True words were never spoken, as today, the comment coming from Teresa is, “If I had had known I would have to take care of Snyder, I think maybe we wouldn’t have gotten him.  She laughs, “We went so far to get him.  I guess there’s no returning him now.”

            How many people get animals promising to care for them and then the shift of responsibility goes to another?  But Snyder couldn’t be more loved and cared for regardless of who cares for him.  He even has a Labrador retriever who shares the fenced backyard with him.  Both dogs couldn’t be happier.

Most Popular

           I don’t think there is any topic that the internet doesn't comment about.  Where was the internet when I was in school?  Maybe my grades would have been a bit better then when researching for that term paper.  But all this is hindsight.  But getting to where I am coming from, in looking for subjects to write about dogs, the internet helps.  In one’s lifetime one can own so many dogs and know all things about them personally.  After all is said about them, what to write about becomes hard.

            I was wondering about if there was a most popular name for a dog.  There is one for a baby.  And yes, there is one for a dog.  Also, one for a cat that can be later mentioned in my cat blog.  But out of the most popular list for dog’s, I never made the list in the names I gave my dogs.   But I guess I shouldn't feel so bad.  Lassie never made the list either.

            I could list all 100 names for male dogs and the other 100 names given female dogs.  But ask the question on the internet, “What are the most popular dog names and most popular cat names?”  It will take you right to the list with the click of the mouse.

            The ranking on the internet comes from the names compiled by the Veterinary Pet Medical insurance policies purchased mostly within the United States.  How accurate this is one can only guess.  Many may not have pet insurance.  I don’t for now.  I guess this subject to change if Congress and the Senate require it.

            I give below the top ten male names and female names for dogs.

Rank              Male               Female

1                     Max                Molly

2                     Buddy             Bella

3                     Jake                Lucy

4                     Bailey             Maggie

5                     Rocky             Daisy

6                     Charlie             Sadie

7                     Jack                Chloe

8                     Toby               Sophie

9                     Cody               Bailey

10                   Buster             Zoe

*Making the list of top ten on both male and female names:  Bailey (she/he) came in at number 4 and 9.

Waldo By His Side

             I remember the day a yell came out.  My brother David and I were playing in the empty field across from our house.

            “Come home,” yelled Fay.  We came running.

            Upon the front porch we saw our Mother take from Mister Jackson’s mouth his false teeth.  In response, Fay commented,

            “He’s going to be mad when he wakes up and Mother took his teeth.”  But he was not about to wake up.  Mister Jackson had died sitting on our front porch that day.  Why Mother took his false teeth, I never knew.  But she did.  As adults began to come before the ambulance came, Mother had Mister Jackson pulled inside the house.  She said to keep flies from landing on him.  I saw that as my first experience with death.  But the story does not end there.  Mister Jackson went nowhere without his dog, Waldo.  By his side that day was his dog.

            Mister Jackson was a friend of my Daddy’s.  Mother was killing flies on the front porch when he stopped to ask where Ewing (my Daddy) was.  He sat down in a rocking chair while his dog Waldo lay down beside him.  Mother told the story that he began to gag; and then he was gone.  The teeth were taken to give to his wife when she came.  But I still never understood that!

            Until the ambulance came, Mister Jackson sat inside as a loyal dog lay beneath his feet.  When finally the ambulance came and they were taking his body, the dog had to be held back.  Mister Jackson and his dog had spent many years together.  It was a loyalty of more than just master and owner.  They were seen as truly friends.

            Today, I still remember Mister Jackson.  To a child, his death was seen as a bit scary.  I grew up watching the Frankenstein and werewolf movies shown on television back then.  I shared a bedroom with my older sister.  That night, she and I were both scared to get up and go the bathroom.  But now all that just seemed ridiculous.  What really stands out is what happened to Waldo after his owner’s death.  Waldo was taken home.  It was not the same for him.  The dog lay by his owner’s chair in the house.  He never seemed to ever move.  He wouldn’t eat.  He never left the spot until he too passed away.  It seems to be a sad ending to a story that maybe should never have been told.  But it is being told.  Not because of how they died, but how they lived.  I remember a saying someone once said to me, “We all can say we have friends.  But to have one true friend is rare.”  Whether this statement is true or not leaves me to wonder.  Mister Jackson had his one true friend.  That dog loved him.  He remained faithful to the end.  Waldo grieved for his master.  I kind of envy the relationship they had.  When growing up, I never had that.  The pets we had were shared with other siblings.  Right now I don’t have a dog.  But I do have cats.  I feed strays.  I rescued and took in a litter of four.  They all have different personalities.  One has definitely become my friend.  I know My-a-Moo cat would grieve over me.  And, I would her!  I can’t go anywhere in the house that she doesn’t follow.  I can’t sit at the table reading or writing.  She flops down right in front of me.  In a chair, she comes and gets in my arms and goes to sleep.  She truly loves me and I love her.   She can be a pest at times.  But if she ever stopped showing me her attention, I would be lost.

            I can understand the relationship between Mister Jackson and his dog, Waldo.  I think in reading this story you too, as a pet lover, will have no trouble understanding.

Chihuahua

            My parents ran a country grocery store.  It was the only grocery store for miles in this country community.  It was sometimes a happening place as neighbors came to buy food, gasoline, and whatever needed without having to go to a town.  It was like everybody knew everybody.  My Mother and Father seemed to have many friends.  And on one such day, my Mother’s best friend came for a visit.  She had telephoned prior to that visit telling my Mother she had something to show her.  She had excited.  Even Mother acted kind of excited to see what it was.

            Upon my Mother’s friend’s arrival, she came walking in carrying her purse. 

            “I have something to show you,” she said.  And immediately she opened her purse revealing a small head looking out.

            I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Being somewhat curious, I spoke first.

            “What is that?”  I asked.

            “It’s my little Chihuahua dog,” she answered.

            Mother never spoke until finally she asked, “What good is it for?” she continued, “Will it help you on the farm?”

            “I got it for companionship,” she answered.  “Don’t you just love him?”

            “I can’t tell much about him in that bag,” replied Mother.

            “Wait a minute,  I’ll get him out,” replied her friend.

            She reached into her purse and brought him out.  The dog began to wiggle and to the floor he dropped.  Off he ran behind shelves to hide.  Apparently all the excitement scared the little fellow.  And he showed more fear as they came close to catching him, he ran to another place.  It was almost comical as mother and her friend both tried to catch the dog.  Finally; they did!

            That day was my first sighting of the small dog they called a Chihuahua.  It was small and couldn’t have weighed more than five or six pounds.  I had always been use to the big dog like the ones we had owned in the past on our farm.  But since that day, I have seen the Chihuahua in commercials, and yes, the movies.

            As for my parents who ran the grocery store, not long afterwards a sign went up, “No Dogs Allowed!”

            I wonder if the sign would make my Mother’s friend mad as it certainly would be seen directed at her and her dog.  But surprisingly, it did not.  After all, I think they all knew that a grocery store was not a place to bring a dog.  My Mother’s friend continued to shop there.  Nothing seemed to get in the way of their friendship.  The remained, “Best Friends Forever.”