Backyard Tortoise (Click to enlarge)

First I want to draw your attention to this guy on the left.  Click the image and you can see her larger, the way I intended the photo to look.  Organic.  Dark.  Other-worldly.  Just as they have lived for thousands of years.  What if I picked her up from my backyard, put her in a box and decided to keep her?  Would it matter how I kept her?  In an aquarium?  How about in a protected sanctuary complete with room to roam?  How about enough room which would equal what she would need in the wild?

I pose these questions today because I’ve been thinking of their answers after reading a horrible story which happened in Orlando yesterday.  An Orca trainer at the Sea World park was dragged into the pool by the largest Killer Whale in captivity.  He jumped from the pool, grabbed her by the waist and thrashed her back and forth.  She was pronounced dead on the scene.

Dawn Brancheau, 40, was an experienced trainer at the tourist attraction.  I have no doubt that she had Tillikum’s best interest at heart.  He is a 12,000 pound mammal living in the park since 1992.  Ms. Brancheau had worked with Tillikum for 16 of the 18 years he spent in Sea World’s confinement.  He was born in 1981 and spent two years with his mother.  Most males spend their lifetimes with their mothers and the rest of the pod.  In 1983 he was abducted and sent to live at Sealand in Victoria, Canada where he performed and lived with two other females who picked on him constantly.  This arrangement lasted for 9 years before Tillikum’s first incident (sic).  Trainer Keltie Lee Byrne fell into a tank holding Tillikum and two other whales.  They pulled the trainer under water until she drowned.  Tillikum was then sold to Sea World.

You can find much information about the life and times of this creature.  Then multiply it by the thousands of captive whales sometimes kept in enclosures which to them are no larger than a bathtub.  Is it our right to capture and own exotic wild animals?  I dream of visiting different oceans and taking the tours to view these creatures with my camera.  I know I will experience the majesty which is in their nature.  I have seen video of breaching and playing behavior.  I see their dorsal fin as it’s meant to be – erect and magnificent, not flopped as are those in captivity.  Should that not tell us something?

Which brings us back to this lovely terrapin. Is it our right to pluck her/him from her/his environment?  We can, but is it our right?  We can even rationalize our capture with the idea that we are protecting it.  But have we interfered with the possible reproduction of more of them?  Are there any among us who have not kept lightning bugs in a jar…perhaps until their deaths?  I know I have partaken in such experiences myself…but I can’t help but notice that there don’t seem to be as many of them as there used to be.

If you think that I’m a little preachy today, reconsider.  I am owned by an exotic bird.  She was not wild-caught.  She was bred and hand-fed in Louisiana.  But is that right?  I just pose the questions as I try to figure it out for myself.  It is not possible to return her to the wild, as she has imprinted humans and she is now 16 years old.  But what of those animals ripped from their wild flocks, prides, herds, pods, colonies or troops (apes)?

I know the answer for me.  When we know better we do better.  Perhaps it is time for us to look at these experiences we deemed harmless  and teach our children to enjoy the wildlife as they live – wild.  The only capture necessary to learn of these glorious creatures is photographic.

Lily The Delightful Rat Terrier (Click to enlarge)

This sweet little girl has never had issues with aggression because she has never been abused or neglected. Terry and I work with many dogs of all different breeds and all different histories and behaviors.  We think we know what we’re doing and have a process whereby we ask human companions if their dogs will be alright with us touching them.  But even a professional can make a mistake.

I usually say I have only one rule in my studio.  No one should get hurt having their picture taken…ahhh but if a naughty photog doesn’t use good common sense the blood flowing won’t be the subject’s.  Here’s a reminder for all those dog lovers who come in contact with many dogs they don’t know.  Always, ALWAYS ask the human companion (the only one in the relationship who speaks English) if the dog you’re approaching will be all right being touched BEFORE you touch her/him.

Yup.  Terry got tagged today.  She was distracted and didn’t follow our own rules.  She offered her hand to an aggressive dog AS she was asking about the dog.  This rescued dog has issues because of being abused in his former life.  Uh uh.  Nope.  Not smart to offer him a bite.  This is a lesson to all those with children as well.  Teach them NOT to extend their hands to ANY dog they haven’t asked about.

We want to tell those involved that we realize our part in the mishap.  It was a lesson learned by all.  Communication is the key.

Christmas Family With Rainbow & Bella The Yellow Labs (Click to enlarge)

No, nothing has happened to these two wonderful Labs, Rainbow and Bella.  They are fine.  They were hearty, rambunctious, inquisitive and playful when we last saw them.  That’s the job description of Labrador Retrievers.  It’s also what gets many of them in a lot of trouble.

I post these girls today because I’ve just received word that a friend of ours is waiting to find out if her two beloved Labs will live after eating part of a Sago Palm.  She asked me to post something to warn others of this deadly plant.  The ingestion of very minute amounts of this plant can cause irreparable damage.

Recently I had a conversation with someone concerning the danger of dogs having access to chocolate.  She said she gives her dog chocolate because he likes it.  I said she is lucky because it’s poison to some dogs.  I’m afraid many might think the same of a Sago Palm.  Unlike chocolate, however, Sagos can kill ANY dog, any cat and any horse.  My friend’s two Labs are both in a coma as we speak.

Don’t believe me?  Check out HappyDogsPlay.com’s post on March 20th last year.  Sisters Pet Pics has a Toxicity page with three great sites listing all dangerous and poisonous plants to animals.  Top on the list?  SAGO PALMS!  Still not convinced?  Go to Snopes.com’s entry about Sago Palms.  They researched it and deemed this warning TRUE (!).

Some people might have a potted Sago in their home.  If you live with cats PLEASE, PLEASE get rid of the Sago.  It’s deadly.

I hope my readers heed this warning.  If you have a plant and nothing has happened yet (as occurred with my friend’s Labs) you have a ticking time bomb in your yard.  It’s only a matter of time until a seed is next to some other tasty morsel and it’s ingested by your beloved pet.  Don’t let this happen to you dear reader.

Zeke, Whitney & Reba The Who Dat Dawgs! (Click to enlarge)

It seems Who Dat fever is spreading far and wide.  As the weeks wear on and the home teams falter even the most zealous out-of-state-fan begins to look for a possible contender.  And when they do:

What to their wondering eyes do appear, but 11 at any one time without fear!

They throw e’m, they run ‘em stoked with more zeal than before.

They stop ‘em, they block ‘em and still they bring more!

On Henderson, on Colston both Thomases too.

We love some Bell ringing and Gay talkin’ with our hero the Drew.

On Scotty, on Willy, with Darren and Mike.

There’s still more in the wings just waiting to fight.

The smell of brown bags seems distant today.

We look over our shoulders, is there a piper to pay?

But no, there seems none, our boys keep comin’ instead.

Don’t worry folks if punting is done we got Morstead.

So to all who have waited for days such as these,

Don’t let them tell you the best is not Brees!

Terry Scheller & Frida, two reasons to be grateful (Click to enlarge)

When my daughter was living at home, just after she was foster-placed as an 11 year old, fresh from her removal from her neglectful and abusive birth family and two subsequent broken fostering situations, I was all gung-ho to impart values to this child who couldn’t speak a discernible language and certainly had no experience with a value system which didn’t have to do with stealing or hoarding or manipulating to seek basic needs.  It was the end of October, and I was already planning a grateful Thanksgiving complete with volunteering at a church to deliver Thanksgiving meals to shut-ins around St. Tammany parish.  I printed the words to every song from the Wizard of Oz, as well as many old time standards designed to make every pre-teen lament, “Oh, mom” and insisted everyone in the house participate.  We loaded the food, grabbed the maps and we were off.

It took a while, and I wouldn’t exactly say that the values-sharing with my daughter was lovingly embraced, but we did sing and we did laugh, and the two participating adults experienced the gratitude from those meal recipients.  I felt so good I insisted upon this being our family tradition…until the program was dropped.  Though I believe programs like this are the best reasons for gathering to raise voices and feelings in the name of a power greater than oneself, and I was sorry to find that after a couple of years the Thanksgiving meals-on-wheels, for whatever reason, would not be continued at the church, I was ever so grateful for the opportunity to experience joy…yes joy…for the hours we spent singing and delivering sustenance on those days during those early years of my daughter’s life with me.

My daughter is on her own now, living a life that I hope is touched with gratitude and joy.  But I miss that tangible, in-your-face giving with my family, on a day which symbolizes gratitude.  Perhaps I was cheating, though.  I certainly got so much from it I might have been guilty of  giving-cheating.  On the other hand, is that such a bad thing?

“Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” The countless times I’ve been reminded of this  has made me grateful for being exposed to John Lennon’s genius over and over again. And again Mr. Lennon reminds me the journey is the destination.

I meant to make daily posts leading up to Thanksgiving showing all the sweet and beautiful pets with their families that I have had the privilege to meet.  Alas, I got sick.  Yep, I’m not invincible.  Oh, you knew that?  Well, I’m just learning it…I’m a late bloomer.  It started three weeks ago with a cold.  I was so grateful for not being contagious and still being able to continue to work. A sore throat that I thought was the result of an exuberant New Orleans Saints win lingered.  I was grateful that the sore throat didn’t keep me from more games, though not always live (I’m ever so grateful for my DVR!).

I was grateful that I did not have a fever, though one might have blown the little virus-y thingie out of me. Tired and head and joint achy but still not noticing I may have needed to rest more, I was grateful for all the opportunities to go on location to photograph all manner of dogs and people having fun.  From the smallest adult dog I have ever petted – I was afraid to use all my fingers to touch what looked like a fragile head – to a year old Doberman Pinscher puppy in his dog-wheeled cart who had been shot, but who found his way to a most heroic and giving group (Dax’s House) who is rehabilitating him — my gratitude for all of these people and animals crowds the boundaries of any of my selfish angst.

More tired.  A cough develops.  Uh oh.  I was the first of four biological daughters in a matriarchal family.  Though my mother didn’t know it at the time, she would be very challenged by her children – especially her eldest- it would fill her with fear and anguish at one moment and relief and liberation at the next.  I provided her with what I liked to tell her were learning opportunities.  From Ukrainian descent, my family was a hardy people…not so I.  If my friends had colds, I had tonsillitis.  If my sisters had the flu my tonsillitis would hospitalize me.  I am so grateful for a mother who loved me and cared for me regardless of my rebellious nature, regardless of the frivolous and dangerous decisions I made as a youngster and nevertheless survived due in part to her own indomitable spirit.

Now I’m so tired, the cough has escalated to brain-rattling, body-wracking, heart-stopping spasms.  No fever.  I’m thinking I can get a hold of this thing.  If I had a fever I’d seek medical attention.  I’m grateful that I have health insurance.  I complain about the premiums and the skimpy therapeutic and dental care, but I have it.  Not everyone does, though I hope this changes.  I can see most doctors and get most pharmaceuticals for a nominal co-pay.  I am ever so grateful for this.  But I’m still thinking…why waste the co-pay when I can cure myself with a little rest.  After all, I don’t have a fever.  I re-schedule appointments.  I am so grateful for those wonderful people who wished me well.

During this time I received news that a sweet and gentle man we knew first as a client then as a friend had given up his daily struggle with life near his friends and family.  The taking of his life has filled me with such sorrow for the pain I didn’t know he had and for the inconsolable family he left to continue the journey without him.  It made me wonder what I could have done…or what I could do for another who may be suffering a pain so deep and abiding that options seem non-existent.  I wish I could have said that the first 50 years are the hardest.  I wish I could have imparted the knowledge that all the prom kings and queens, all the seemingly successful business people, all the movie stars, all the people you admire for traits you think you don’t have suffer the same sorrow.  I wish we could heal each other.

It’s the day before Thanksgiving.  I’m planning to cook a big bountiful meal to share with whoever shows up.  I begin to understand that I cannot cough my way through my kitchen duties and not contaminate the food.  I cancel Thanksgiving.  I am grateful no one was hanging their plans on my ability to cook.  I’m grateful for their concern and their healing advice and energy.  I love my friends like family and my family like friends and am grateful for them.  I’m grateful for those I loved and have passed; I’m grateful for those I lost and now I’ve found; I’m grateful for those I never lost and still have; I love them all so.

I stay in bed on Thanksgiving and make plans to call my doctor on Friday.  I’ve had the same doctor for thirty years.  I don’t know what I’ll do when she retires.  I love her.  She’s seen me through my youth, adulthood, parenting and two careers.  I’m grateful for her.  But she’s not taking appointments on Friday.

Nurses are a special kind of person.  I don’t know exactly what makes them tick, but I know they are every bit as skilled as physicians and have abilities quite different and in some ways more important than the medical doctor.  The job description includes a certain attached compassion.  Unlike a physician who may have been trained to detach in order to make decisions, a nurse’s job is to stay attached, to stay compassionate, to stay…  I have had occasions to meet, to know, to love and experience the skills of nurses in my life.  I have a sister-in-law who is one of these people.  She’s even extra special as she knows homeopathic and naturopathic remedies to use with her registered nursing training.  Oh, dear readers, she is very special.

We called her for advice.  Though she is not geographically close enough to use all her healing skills, she asked questions and with their answers headed me off to an urgent care clinic which is open every day.  I met more of those special people at the clinic.  The feeling that my two hour wait would not have been so if I presented with a more serious malady oddly made me feel more comfortable.  They were kind to me as I waited.  I was grateful for that.  These people give up their holiday weekends to care for folks like me who waited too long to seek care, and never once told me how stupid it was not to seek care sooner.

Which brings me to this 4AM-written-mega-post.  Though the pharmaceuticals prescribed have unpleasant side effects, I’m grateful for the knowledge that I can take and do things to counter them.  Pneumonia can be cured with a drug now.  Who knew?  When I had it as a child there was no drug for it.  Hospitalization and fluids were the preferred cure.  That time it must have been viral; this one was bacterial.  There’s drugs for that.  I’m grateful that I have averted an immediate diagnosis of Tuberculosis or cancer again.  Yay!

I feel good enough to sit up and think.  Oh my!  Am I ever grateful for that!  The cough is present but subsided so I can sleep, but have been weepy about my experiences of late so when I awakened with this feeling of belated Thanksgiving gratitude I wanted to let ‘er rip.  You can get it too.  Here’s what you do.  The next time you awaken in the night, get up.  Notice your surroundings.  Do you live with a bird or two or more?  Do they say, “Hi” when you stir?  It fills me with a love that is indescribable.  Walk through your house.  Smile as you watch your dogs open lazy eyes and wag a sleepy tail in response to your night-time ramblings.  Perhaps a younger dog will walk quietly with you in your meanderings.  If you’re lucky it will be too late for your nocturnal cats’ wild partying and too early for their slow and lazy awakenings, but you’ll catch them cuddled with one another and you’ll know you’re not the only one grateful that moment.

And if you haven’t awakened all your friends and family yet, embrace them with your love.  Visualize them in your tapestry surrounded by a loving protective light which is the embodiment of your life, for you are the product of their love and experiences.  And if they are awake, hold them, love them, tell them.  Try to have an It’s a Wonderful Life experince as often as you can.  I’m grateful for mine.

London The Yorkshire Terrier (Click to enlarge)

Well, did you think I was going to show you the whole building?  Nope.  I want you to work at the contest.  Here’s today’s hint:  London is standing in front of our studio.  She’s a companion and one of the shop dogs of our very cool neighbors.  Oh, and the studio is wheelchair accessible

If you read the last few days of hints, I’ve practically told you where it is.  Guess.  There can be multiple winners!  10% off your next visit if you guess right.  Come on, give it a try.

Hoss The Noble Rottweiler (Click to enlarge)

Before we found out that Michael Vick wouldn’t be playing in the New Orleans Super Dome against the Saints this weekend, Sisters Pet Pics had decided we were going to organize other pet businesses to donate to an animal rescue group every time Vick was sacked.  Then we realized he’s still under suspension and would not play this weekend.

I feel as though I open my mouth to scream my horror and instead of a roar, I hear only a whisper.  I listened to Howie Long give his analysis of poor misunderstood Michael Vick on Sunday, and thought surely this is not the opinion of most citizens.  Certainly this is just the voice of another rich footballer who believes his talent should circumvent laws and mores of a civilized population.  His diatribe began with the camera swinging in close to show the butch cut Howie giving America what he believed was a civil reminder that our laws of crime and punishment must be served.  Thereafter, all is forgiven.

Though not shocked – after all he’s a football player, and probably a friend of Vick’s to boot – I couldn’t help but wonder what the women in his life might think.  Really, I thought, really?   Is it men who are likely to forgive these heinous crimes?  Is it a testosterone knitting club where the clicking of needles drowns the screams of burning dogs and the humans who loved them?

But oh no.  It is not an isolated Howie Long opinion.  Apparently the network agreed; they allowed him the expensive air time with no rebuttal aired or scheduled.  Then I read in today’s Baltimore Sun, that columnist Susan Reimer, has joined with other loud voices to say that Vick has served his time, so get off his back so he can get paid the big bucks and play some football, for goodness sake.  She says, “This is about the humiliating tour of self-flagellation he has been forced to walk, and will continue to walk if the Humane Society bullies have anything to say about it.”  What?!  We should worry about humiliating him?  And the Humane Society, the same Humane Society who has made him a spokesman, are bullies?

Reimer writes:

“But the worst of it is, Mr. Vick is now on a leash held by the Humane Society’s Wayne Pacelle. Mr. Vick has to make any number of appearances on behalf of the society, confessing to the error of his ways. ‘If Mike disappoints us, the public is going to see that,’ Mr. Pacelle told Mr. Brown on the same “60 Minutes” broadcast.”

There goes my testosterone theory.  It seems the polls are in.  Most of America believes he’s served his time; live and let live.  Steal money from rich people?  We have a problem with that.  But electrocute dogs for fun?  What the heck.  Quit bullying him.  And I was angry with the Humane Society for even colluding with Vick to be a spokesperson.  Sheesh.  The HSUS turns out to be the bullies in this, not the sick and demented Michael Vick.

More from Reimer:

“Don’t misunderstand me. I love dogs. Ask Amber, Lulu and Sugar. But I love human beings more, and what Mr. Vick is being required to endure is its own brand of cruelty. People with houses full of filthy, flea-bitten dogs and cats or farms with starving horses generally pay nothing close to the price Mr. Vick has paid, in freedom, money or reputation.”

Is this a whisper?  Are there others who are appalled?  Why aren’t we speaking?  Why aren’t we screaming?  Are we afraid to?  Are we afraid to be called cranks?  Crazy?  Are you feeling like you’d like to call in the authorities to certify your un filthy house, your un flea-bitten dogs and cats,  or your farm with well fed, loved and cared for horses, to be allowed to voice your outrage?  What has become of our nation that we must pass the standards of a cruel and boisterous class of people or be humiliated ourselves for voicing what children know before they are indoctrinated otherwise:  do not hurt the defenseless…ever.

Read more Reimer if you can stomach it: Call Off The Dogs; Vick’s Paid Enough.  I suggest you write to her editor to make your voice of dissent heard.  You don’t need any authority to certify you good, sane and worthy.  Speak your mind, or others will speak for you.

Misty The Bouvier des Flandres (Click to enlarge)

Can you feel it?  A friend who works in television told me that fall is the time of hope.  I never thought of it like that, but certainly it is for TV folks.  The new fall season brings hope for success for the execs as well as for us, the viewers.  Our shows return and new ones are rolled out.  Big hope that the ones we like are not canceled .

Football is back too. Oh yes, it’s on every fan’s lips.  One win and we’re already planning our Superbowl.  Something else too.  I can’t tell you how many friends and acquaintances are beginning huge changes in their lives, whether business or personal.  Some are gathering their packs, herds and prides and are moving to a new state.  Good luck J & K.  Some are moving their businesses to new locations.   Zorros – Cool Stuff For Pets And People has moved to 201 Carroll in Old Mandeville, LA.  And Sisters Pet Pics… Ooops.  Did I let the cat out of the crate?

Sisters Pet Pics has committed to a location change.  Although we have enjoyed our years at Good Dog Naturally in Covington, LA, we feel it’s time for our adolescent business to leave the nest and strike out on our own.  Our parents at GDN have been supportive of our efforts to expand, and we have found a location in Mandeville on Hwy 190 that seems just right for us.  As we prepare our space, we will be telling you more about it and how we will implement this change.  I think you will agree, the photographic possibilities will be endless.  As we get closer to our October grand re-opening we will let you know more and what’s in it for you.

For now, let’s take Misty’s lead and look intensely at our future and glean hope from the fall promise.

Allie The Shih Tzu As A Cute Clown (Click to enlarge)

Break out the wigs and conjure your theme, because the dog partying season is near.  Perhaps some (you know who you are little sis) scoff at the idea of dogs in costumes.  Okay, I get it, but it’s not so much about the costume itself.  These silly fabric, plastic and paper get-ups serve a larger purpose.  No one uses them except for a photograph which will provide endless entertainment, much as a short movie.  The other purpose is to provide a reason to take our dogs out to be socialized.

I know that may sound odd to some, but dog-friendly locations are few and far between.  Although we love our dog folks in our homes they become cats if we never take them out the front door.  Dog socialization with others of their species, while not as important as it is for some, such as horses, is still an opportunity for them to visit with other dogs…and other people as well.

Over the years we’ve adopted many dogs who have issues that prevent me from taking them to a dog parade or any event designed for dogs and their owners.  A couple of years ago I adopted an 8 or 9 year old Chihuahua, Frida – Frida Kahlo, if you’re interested – who arrived frightened and trembly but not agressive toward anyone.  We used to bring her with us to the studio and she waited patiently in her crate until we finished with a client, then she could run about the store being her cute self.  Well, our situation changed and she could not longer really run about, so we stopped bringing her out.  What happened?  Well, she now acts pretty dang cocky…we celebrate the confidence…but…I don’t celebrate her little aggressiveness toward others.  It is my belief that if we had her socializing more this would not have happened.

Where am I going with this?  First, teach your dog some manners.  Sit, stay might be a beginning, but walking on a leash is a necessity. Then go out to meet people and other dogs.  There’s an opportunity coming right up.  Zorro’s – Cool Stuff For Pets And People.  Saturday, September 12th at 3:00PM there will be a Dog Walk along the North Shore Lake Ponchartrain Lakefront.  Meet at Zorro’s new location, 201 Carroll St, in old Mandeville, for drinks and snacks.  Want to know more?  Check out Zorro’s Cool Stuff For Pets & People.

So there you have it.  Some of these events are planned around the silly costumes.  But you can dream up an event of your own.  Go to a dog park, or the lake front, or anywhere there may be dogs and people, and have fun doing it.

Buzz The Miniature Dachshund (Click to enlarge)

Well here’s Buzz.  No, not the buzz, but Buzz, a raucous LSU fan.  Okay, so he doesn’t really know what LSU is, but his mom does, and that’s all that matters.  He just wants to be close to her regardless of who’s on TV!

Here we are at the beginning of football season, coming up to a big costume season, which will precede the winter holiday season.  These are busy and fun times.  There are many opportunities for you to take your doggie out for some socialization.  First on the agenda is this coming weekend at Zorro’s – Cool Stuff For Pets And People.  Saturday, September 12th at 3:00PM there will be a Dog Walk along the North Shore Lake Ponchartrain Lakefront.  Meet at Zorro’s new location, 201 Carroll St, in old Mandeville, for drinks and snacks.  Want to know more?  Check out Zorro’s Cool Stuff For Pets & People.