Recently, the ASPCA (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) has documented approximately 140 cases of dogs exhibiting potential poisoning from raisins and grapes. These dogs are believed to have ingested varying amounts of raisins and/or grapes from varied sources, including directly off the vine.

I know they like them, they even beg for them.  While many animals will avoid naturally the foods that are not good for them, dogs don’t do that!  They like what we like, even if it kills them!

Clinical symptoms can include gastrointestinal signs like vomiting and diarrhea to life-threatening kidney failure which starts about 24 hours after ingestion. The amount of grapes ingested in these cases varied between 9 oz. and 2 lbs., which worked out to be between 0.41 and 1.1 oz/kg of body weight.

Because there is the potential for death with this type of poisoning, veterinarians and poison control centers are developing aggressive treatment for any dogs believed to have ingested large amounts of grapes and/or raisins. These treatments may include the following: induced vomiting, stomach lavage (stomach pumping), and administration of activated charcoal followed by intravenous fluid therapy for at least 48 hours or as indicated based on the results of blood tests for kidney damage.

The ASPCA is continuing to investigate raisin and grape poisoning and kidney failure in dogs. However, since much is still unknown, they recommend that owners not feed any amount of raisins or grapes to their pets.

I had one cat, that as soon as she suspected you weren’t a cat person, she set about to annoy you.  She would jump in your lap, lick your face, cuddle, head butt you, follow you around, and try to eat out of your plate.  She was determined to win you over, but I always suspected she just enjoyed the “annoying.” 

However, for the most part, over history and time, cats have been labeled as the less friendly of the two pets.  Dogs and cats personality differences can be traced back to the ancestors of teoday’s domestic pets.  Dogs are the descendants of wolves, which are social animals that live in packs.

Within the pack, each member knows its place in relation to the others.  The most important pack member is the leader, or “alpha” (beginning or “first”) wolf.   Other wolves look to the leader for direction and treat him with respect, which is often shown by licking or nuzzling.  So when your dog jumps up and licks your face, he may just be thinking of you as his alpha wolf. 

Either that or he’s enjoying the jelly on your face leftover from breakfast…

The ancestors of today’s domestic cats on the other hand, lived and hunted alone.  Because of this, they did not need to develop the social behaviors necessary for life in a pack.  This is why cats seem more independent and less friendly than dogs.  Again, there are exceptions.

Though most of their behavior is dictated by nature, environment plays an important role in what your dog or cat will do and how their personality will adapt and develop.  My cats quickly realized how much I loved and enjoyed them, and our radar-like communication was soon established.

Never under estimate your pet’s ability to learn and please you, they just might surprise you with what they can do!

Sign in a Pet Store:  “Barney’s Pets – Happy Endings For Sale”

Dogs (or most pets).  They don’t want much; a kind voice, a regular bite of something different, a walk, a talk, our company, fresh air.  They are pretty good at teaching us to “…do what we can, with what we have, where we are.”  (paraphrased quote from Theodore Roosevelt)

They give such companionship.  If well treated, they display such joy for the day.  Buddy, loves his routine, reminding me that young children are much happier when they, too, can predict their day.  Buddy also loves to know “what’s up next.”  Somehow, he seems to understand the weekends are mainly about him, or so he is persuaded to think. 

As we dressed early this morning, he sensed an early trip out, and eagerly looked from one to the other of us, as he sat expectantly by his leash.  As we talked, he’d cock his head to the left or right.  He was waiting to hear the word “go” which we were carefully avoiding.  He was patient, yet eager.  Highly motivated to show us how still he was sitting, he was staying out of our way so that he would be rewarded by going.

I could not stand to look at his eager face any longer, and said the magic phrase “You wanna go?”  He grabbed his leash, jumped in the chair and handed it to us so it could be fastened around his neck. 

He was at the door in seconds, ready to face the day with a dazzling smile.  He loves garage sale days and breakfast out, which always results in a small treat from the table.  Hangin’ his head out the window is a highlight of the morning, and when he tires of that, he sits in the back window looking at all the other strange creatures in the world.

Buddy loves his days, and we love to watch him loving his days. 

-Buddy’s Mom

Oh my gosh, you’d think we were leaving a child.  Well, Buddy’s like our 4th son.  He is so much a part of our day, loving fun, his little daily patrol on the golf cart, his many trips.

He tries so hard to please, looking back every few steps to make sure he’s leading the way, correctly. 

Now, we have to go for 2.5 days to a convention.  No pets.  They just don’t understand, leaving Buddy in the care of strangers is traumatic.  How can I concentrate on business?  It’s not like I can call home to check on him, though he would try to answer the phone, I’m sure.

We’ve hired a pet sitter to come and let him out for his walk and sniffs.  She’ll feed him and pet him, and make sure animal planet is on for him.  But, she’s not us.  Buddy will not like it.  He’ll be upset and I don’t know how to explain it to him.

It’s quite disturbing, to be the parent of a dog.

-Buddy’s Mom, an unhappy camper for today.

Involved in everything we do, Buddy has learned to love the day we’re home.  He knows it’s his day to watch, get treats, and see all the home things that happen. 

He sniffs our laundry piles and agrees they need the washing machine.  He loves his freshly washed dog food bowls, taking long drinks and slurping all over the floor.  He carefully positions himself right in the middle of the floor so he doesn’t miss the occasional word about “going” somewhere and also making us step over him as we work.

About 2 hours into the home chores, he’s ready to take a trip and reminds us by taking his leash in his mouth and jumping up on the couch.  If that doesn’t get our attention, he’ll lay down on the leash, always ready at a minutes notice.

Finally, it’s time to make a grocery store run.  We check the temperature outside, in Florida that is crucial.  If it’s a hot day, Buddy’s dad will get out the golf cart, take Buddy for  a short ride and then bring him back to the apartment.  Buddy LOVES the golf cart, and stands ready to bark at anything that moves.

He’s not happy about being left, but parks himself with his leash at the top of the stairs, watching us as we walk out the door.  Tilting his head to the left and then the right, he pouts just a little.

We have to be tough, the hot temperatures are not for him.

“We’ll be right back, Buddy.  Stay.  Guard the house. ”  Well, gee.  It’s not all bad.  We left animal planet playing on the TV.

It’s a dog’s life.

-Buddy’s Mom

What an attitude!  Wish my kids had awoke every morning the way our dog does. 

Buddy faces each day with zip in his step and wanting to do whatever is on your list.  Eager to go, he grabs his leash and heads downstairs.  I’m slower on the stairs, and he turns expectantly and patiently towards me, waiting for that gesture that tells him we’re actually leaving.

Tail wagging and eyes bright, he jumps outside to take control of the day.  Nose to the ground, he makes sure that we’re all safe from unseen monsters.  Suddenly still, he sniffs the air. 

Uninterested, finding nothing alarming, he leads us to the car, just in case we don’t know where it is. 

Always in a good mood, ready for anything, Buddy stands eagerly facing life.

I love that “I’m ready for anything you want to do, Mom” attitude.  Wonder if we could bottle it and sell it to parents to pass out to their kids?

- Buddy’s Mom

“What’s that wigglin’ under the cover?  A monster!  Grab it quick, and shake it to death!”

The game is always the same and Buddy never tires of it.  He will even request it by pawing at the blanket.  In doggy language, that means “Stick your hand under the cover, dad so I can attack it.  I have to protect you from yourself.”

Dad always obliges, and they both act appropriately scared.  The human hand sneaks under the blanket and wiggles ever so slightly.  The fight begins.  Buddy to the rescue, protection on full alert!  “Grrr…”

Buddy slings and shakes the hidden monster, being careful not to bite too hard, so the game continues.  His effort to control his eagerness for the game is so evident, and touching.  He doesn’t want to really kill the monster; somehow he knows the monster must live, to fight again.  So, he play growls, sound as ferocious as he dares.

The monster understands, too.  The play dragon is careful not to move too much, doing his part to keep the game alive.  Soon, they are both exhausted from all this understanding of unspoken rules of engagement.  Generals across the world are sick with envy of such fighting prowess. 

Buddy looks up at dad, and pauses.  They both take deep breaths and call it a truce.  The game switches to hide and seek. 

More about that tomorrow, as Buddy’s playtime continues.  It’s a dog’s life.

-Buddy’s Mom

“What kind of dog is he?”  We hear that all the time.  You can see the cocker spaniel as a dominant characteristic, with his medium long black hair, and fluffy ears.  He has the slightly pointed nose of the Daschund, the poodle is more noticeable in his intellect.  His body is not as long as the Daschund, but he does have a longer distance from his front to his rear than the spaniel or poodle. 

We call him a dasch-(dock)-a-cock-a-poo! He’s a wonderful mixture of all three, there will never be another one like him.  He doesn’t care what you call him, as long as you don’t call him late for dinner. 

Excited and eager for his morning ride on the golf cart, he was grabbing toys and leash at the same time today.  He never loses his delight for life.  We should learn from him.  My dad always woke me up by clickin’ the light switch and saying “Hit the burnin’ deck!  Face the day with a dazzling smile!” 

I tried to oblige, and I believe Buddy has the same philosophy – could it be a message from my dad, though gone now for 7 years?  Perhaps.  Dad would have loved this spirited always in a good mood dog.  Shhh  again, he doesn’t know he’s a pooch.

Buddy is sweet as sugar, and sassy with spice.  Just right.  I’ve got to go watch him on the golf cart….he loves an audience. 

-Buddy’s Mom

“It’s amazing to me how much alike 3 – 4 years old kids and dogs are.  When raising kids, a bedtime routine, finished our day with a pleasant feeling.  Or, maybe not.  Depending on the kid.  If we stuck to the routine, kept it cheerful, the kids would get the idea and eventually settle down to their books, quiet music and eventually, sleep.”

Our dasch-a-cock-a-poo, Buddy,  has created his own routine, based on his memory of a repeated playtime.  When asked if he wanted to go “night-night” he’d stand at attention, cock his head left then right, and we’d say “Get your toy.”  Off he ran to pick up the first of his toys in sight, and to the bedroom he’d go.  Playtime of “fetch ‘em and find ‘em” would then ensue until he collapsed on the bed ready to sleep. 

Now, he has us trained.  If he’s ready for bed, which is right before the sun goes down, he’ll go get a toy, hold it in his mouth and sit in front of the bedroom door, looking expectantly in our direction.  Dad obeys, and gets up from the chair, and playtime begins.

I move to the laptop. and write as toys hit the walls, bounce in dangerous directions, and Buddy and Dad fight the good fight. 

Shhhh….soon they’ll be asleep and Buddy’s Mom will write in peace. 

I don’t know which critter is the bigger kid.

Buddy has his definite likes and dislikes.  Part of the joy of a pet is their distinctive opinions about what they want or don’t want. 

It rained all night so the grass this morning shines with moisture.  At the bare light of day, Buddy and Dad walked out for the morning trip to the grassy knoll.  Buddy was having none of it.  He tiptoed at a snail’s pace towards the grass and sniffed the asphalt as though it were a strange new arrival to his world.

Finally, he got to the edge of the grass and looked at Dad reluctantly.  “Go, Buddy, do your business.  Go Potty.”

Buddy refused to budge.  He wasn’t going to get his delicate paws wet.

Respectfully, he sat on his rear and looked away.  The command to potty was repeated with an added “Please.”

Nope, zip, nada.  No getting wet the paws. No “Paws for the Cause” from Buddy.  I guess he was planning on holding it until the grass dried.  He wouldn’t even go on the asphalt.  Understanding you can’t force a pee, Dad brought Buddy back in the house. 

They have now, 45 minutes later, departed for the morning golf cart ride.  I hope it meets with Mr. Particular’s standards.  He rules the roost.

In keeping with the routine, they will patrol, bark at boogers or would be boogers, or boogers from the past, return to the grassy knoll for all kinds of personal body functions, and then Buddy comes upstairs for whatever is on Animal Planet and his morning treat and nap.

A hard life, but Buddy tries to maintain bravery.

-Buddy’s Mom