Category Archives: Animal House

Rub a Dub Dub

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Today is a good day in my world.

In fact, I’m in such a good mood, I’m going to do something completely uncharacteristic.

Blog about cats!

If you know me well enough, you know that usually the best thing I have to say about cats is that they “taste good with rice and teriyaki sauce.”

But I found a cat video that I actually liked enough to a) make me want a cat to do this with, and b) want to share with you!

So go forth, and check out this YouTube video.

Embedding has been “disabled by request,” but I assure you, it’s worth the clickthrough.

Romp

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What had me so tired yesterday? A few hours of playing in the snow.

Especially a few hours in the snow, trying to keep up with this crazy beastiie who LOVES the white powder, and acts every inch the crackhead when she gets to run around in it.

Check out the entire set on flickr.

Park Boss

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It never, ever fails.

You think some day we’d catch him napping, or in the can, or something other than staring out his window.

But no.

We can’t make it halfway across the street before he’s strutting out his door and striding across the grass, bellowing “LEASH YOUR DOG PLEASE!”

We call him “Park Boss” for fun. As in, “who made you park boss? you’re not the boss of me!”

Playgrounds clearly bring out my inner 8-year-old.

Truth is though, I am a little intimidated. What if he really is the park boss?

He’s a man of about 70. Or if he’s not 70, life has dealt him enough blows so he looks a septagenarian. He lives in a little house on the corner of the park. I’m not sure exactly why there is a little house on the park – it looks misplaced. Like the city wanted to buy up the land for greenspace, and he just refused to go. The grandfather’s been grandfathered.

And he clearly considers it his duty to ensure that all dogs who enter the park, which isn’t designated as an off-leash area, remain firmly tethered to their owners. If he does have any jurisdiction to ticket the not-so-law-abiding dog owners of the neighbourhood, he certainly hasn’t exercised it yet, that I’ve seen.

But he still watches.

All the way down the sidewalk, past his window, where I see his shadow flash from the front window, to the side. Then the door opens if Sasha even looks at the expanse of grass and trees and leaves without overt evidence that she’s leashed.

Then it comes.

“LEASH YOUR DOG PLEASE! THIS IS A PLAYGROUND, FOR KIDS NOT DOGS! IT’S FOR THE GOOD OF EVERYONE! YOU CAN LET YOUR DOG RUN FREE ACROSS THE BRIDGE!”

Nevermind that the other side of the footbridge that bisects the park isn’t any more an off-leash area according to the law. But clearly the city laws don’t apply here. This is Park Boss’s turf.

And though I always fancied myself a rebel, I never did have the gumption or tenacity to follow through on that.

So I do as I’m told.

Park Boss saves the day, again.

Dog-gonit

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Jonathan posted on Metroblogging Vancouver yesterday regarding his opinion on having a dog in an apartment building.

Vancouver’s no-pets-in-the-building policy is probably a good thing. If people want a dog, they should at least have a house with a yard or public park across the street.

It’s an opinion I hear a lot from people who feel “sorry” for my dog, because she lives in an apartment.

That’s bullshit.

I’ve lived in both apartments and houses with dogs of all sizes, and I can say that it absolutely DOES NOT MATTER what kind of home you inhabit with a dog, you have to exercise them. Putting a dog out in the yard does not guarantee they’re exercising.

I’d actually argue that dogs who live in homes with yards don’t get as much exercise as they should. I know that personally I was FAR more likely to just let the dog out the back door to do its business rather than actually go play outside with it, or take it for a walk around the neighbourhood or to the park every day as I do now.

And I can’t vouch for Mt. Pleasant, but there are a LOT of parks in areas of Vancouver that I’m familiar with. No, there isn’t one immediately across the street from me. But there is one across the street and two blocks west, one a block behind me, and another park across the street from that. Every neighbourhood I’ve explored has at least a public grassy patch every 5 blocks or so. It’s probably better for the dog, and the owner, to have to walk an extra block or two to get to it.

My dog’s trainer actually recommends AGAINST yards for dogs. Sure, a yard is great if you go out there with the animal, but putting them outside alone is a horrible idea. That’s where the poor dog is antaganized by any amount of neighbourhood cats and wildlife, and feels he/she must defend the yard as part of his/her territory. If a person is going to be a good dog owner, it doesn’t matter if the grassy patch is attached to the house or a 6 block hike away – the person must accompany the dog.

Having a dog is far more like having a toddler than having an animal. They’re about as smart as a 3-year old, and need stimulation and interaction in order to flourish and not become destructive and start yelling (barking) and pooping in corners just for the hell of it. The day someone agrees that it’s cruel to have a child in an apartment because they don’t have a yard to play in is the day I’ll agree with the same argument for dogs.

I think his other points are relevant – non-dog people have just as much right to live in a non-dog building as dog-people do to live in a dog-friendly building. I wouldn’t move into a condo complex knowing that strata bylaws state “no dogs” if I wanted a dog to be in my future. If it were that important to me, I’d be putting “dog-friendly” on my list of must-haves right next to 2 full bathrooms and garburator. I’m not about to be a strata-council rabble-rouser to try and bring dogs where none have gone before. People have as much right to live dog-free as those who live in “adult only” complexes have to live child-free.

But the type of house someone lives in is NOT a valid qualifier to determine whether or not they’re a good dog owner (or parent), and is not a valid argument for banning dogs from apartment buildings.

Were I to be a Strata Council renegate, I’d far rather get on the council at the new place, and try to put in a clause that bans judgemental ignorami (not that Jonathan’s necessarily one – I don’t know him from Adam – he just planted the seed to ignite my wrath) from living there.

Is this thing on?

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Right. Still here.

Turns out I did get sick on Thursday (that’d be the 5th for those playing along at home) and spent the day on the couch. I’m still not really better per se, but it was nice to get the day of rest in, and that along with the 3-day weekend means I’ve made it through the following week relatively unscathed.

I’m still not sleeping well though.

I think that has less to do with me, and more to do with the fact that we’ve decided to start crating the dog at night.

I am going to be a horrible parent. I should reserve my spot on Nanny 911 now

Our issue with the animal is that she’s decided that she’d prefer to eat twice a day – once at 10:00pm and once at 2:00am. And she is a NOISY eater. Then, after crunching and slobbering her way through 4 cups of dry kibble, she needs to slurp at a gallon of water.

If she’s not eating her kibble at 2am, she’s either rummaging through the bathroom garbage, or trying to take up the lion’s share of the space on our bed. It’s got to stop.

So now, instead of random disturbance destruction in the middle of the night, we’re treated to scuttling and whining. The damn dog doesn’t like to be alone in the dark (remember, she’s afraid of EVERYTHING).

Logically I know she’s just being a giant pain and doing what she can to be let out to roam free (which she does during the day, except she uses the time to sleep on the couch instead of eating or drinking or being any sort of destructive). But my poor black little heart, it gets ALL EFFING TORN UP when I hear her pitiful cries because all she wants is to snuggle with her mommy and maybe just one night won’t hurt and maybe she’ll be good tomorrow and OH GOD WHAT HAVE I BECOME?

So yah.

Not blogging, not sleeping.

I would feel guilty about the not blogging thing, but as you can see, all my guilt is currently being used up at the moment because I’m a horrible mother.

Sucky

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Canister of DOOM!

Remember the cranky from a couple days ago? I decided to hedge my bets on it being brought about by the dog hair thing.

I’m pretty sure I was right.

I went out after work the next day and purchased a brand! new! blue! Hoover EmPower, and proceeded to do exactly what the box said – just add dirt!

That picture of the canister up there was what we sucked up, just in the BEDROOM. A measly 200 of our 1000 square foot mostly carpeted home. After swiping over only about six inches of the floor, Neil actually asked why the hoover people would put a ball of twine in the canister.

I’m pretty sure that was about the time I flipped out and screamed “DOG HAIR DOG HAIR DOG HAIR! DO YOU SEE NOW WHY I HAVE BEEN COMPLAINING ABOUT THE DOG HAIR??!?!?!?! OMGWTFBBQ!!!!1111ELEVEN!”

And to address Brigette’s query on another one of the flickr photos (oh yes, there’s more evidence of the grossness!) – we DO clean. It’s just that my previous vacuum sucks. Or doesn’t, as the case may be. You see, it was a hand-me-down from my parents. All I really remember about it is that when they moved into a new house in 1993, they were really excited about having a built-in vacuum system, since that unit (13 years ago already) was horrible and dying.

I really should’ve replaced it loooooong ago, but when you’re a student, then paying off student loans, there are always more exciting things to spend $150 on than cleaner floors in a rental apartment.

However, when you’re in the throes of domesticity in your mid-20′s, few things bring greater joy. Especially when they come with a hearty helping of boyfriend directed “I TOLD YOU SO!”

Vacation Lessons #1 – Dogged Determination

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I know a blow-by-blow breakdown of things that I did on my luxurious week of unemployment/vacation isn’t really interesting to anyone except those who were there – so I won’t torture you.

However, there are a few very important lessons I learned while on my “fly by the seat of your pants” whirlwind tour of the Sunshine Coast & Vancouver Island. And I’d love to share one of them with you:

First off, Travelling with no schedule, planned destnation, accommodations booked or firm dates for anything in mind is a good idea… in principle. In reality, it’s a great way to see things you hadn’t expected, but a challenging way to conduct a vacation. The stress of hunting down a place to lay our weary heads each night took away significantly from the “relaxation” factor we’d been striving for.

Compounding this is the realization we came to that one should never, EVER, travel with a dog without having accommodations booked ahead of time. I don’t want to sound like one of those people who feels their dog should be allowed everywhere they go so far as into restaurants, stores, etc. but the complete lack of pet-friendly accommodations available is pretty astounding. Hotels that allow dogs seem to only have about 5-7% of their rooms available for the furry beasties, and even if they do have rooms available, the pet rooms go quickly.

Someone actually asked us on our travels “Why’d you bring your dog on vacation anyway?” I just sat dumbfounded with my mouth agape, though Neil was quick in responding (loudly, over the questioner’s screaming, unruly brats running amok through the Tim Hortons – as our dog laid quietly outside the window we were sitting next to) “Why’d you bring your kids on vacation?” and the question-asker was left speechless. And really, that’s what it’s all about. Not everyone likes kids, or dogs, or your drunk Uncle Bob who pinches the waitresses ass and spills his dinner and pukes in the flowerbeds more often than not. But for whatever reason, people enjoy travelling with them and would like to spend their vacation with their family and companions.

The biggest anti-pet justification I heard was “allergies” – and sure, people’s allergies to pet-hair are a valid concern. But really? Don’t hotels vacuum the rooms and change the sheets and towels between guests anyway? And I’d argue that there are more dog owners than those severely allergic to pet dander in this world. And I’d bet that those who are so allergic to pet dander that they can’t be in a room that a dog has been in, ever, are probably allergic to a lot of other things as well. Why not book 5-7% of your rooms as “allergen-free” rooms and outlaw pets, plants, perfumes and peanut products in them.

Most responsible dog owners are generally happy to pay the nominal pet-fee that’s usually tacked onto the regular room rate already, and nobody I know would balk at agreeing to have a pet-charge added to their bill after checkout for any damage their animal may cause. In addition to this, 99% of places already have rules in place that you can’t leave your pet in the room alone anyway – so the risk of any pet damage (save for an indoor accident – and really… have you seen a baby diaper malfunction lately? not much matches the foulness of that) is really, really minimal.

Then there are the places who specify that they only take “small pets.” I’d bet anyone any amount of money that my 70lb cross-breed is better behaved than most of the purebread calf-high hatebeasts you throw at it. Just because you can put your dog in your purse when it starts causing trouble, doesn’t mean you don’t have to train it.

Uhm…. wow, that got ranty.

But really, what’s so wrong with wanting to bring the 4-legged member of my family along with me when I take a road trip? I’m not putting her in a crate on a plane, or asking for her to sit in a restaurant, or go on an amusement park ride, or wag her hairy tail through your racks of clothes or souvenirs, or terrorize your pets in your home. I just want her to have a safe place to sleep at night after we’ve wandered around enjoying the scenery and contributing to bottom line of your business and the economy of your town.

I suppose I have become one of those people who expects the rest of the world to accommodate my child dog when I choose to take her out with me in what I would think are appropriate situations. But really – considering my dog is cleaner, better behaved, and frankly better looking than most people’s children… is that such a bad thing?