dogbesotted

oh yes The Lady Lola is being very successful at that. Benny and Lady Lola sit on either side of Steve's chair getting their pats. Honey Girl used to do that as well but she sat on the side Benny has taken ownership of. Lady Lola has also discovered how comfortable a chair can be for naps!!!! I find my hands constantly touching her fur.. it is so soft but being wavy feels very different to maremma fur.

well I suspect that Steve and I are the real lucky ones.....

after every meal she indulges in extravagant rollings ab out on her back making doggy groaning noises.. then flops on one side...

Nearly a month ago my brothers Maremma lassie Honey Girl lost her short hard battle with aggressive osteoscarcoma..a mere 3 weeks from Dx ... broke our hearts. Thought Benjamin Bumblebee the Weasel Dog would cope..but instead he just became increasingly subdued. so after a lot of searching and one long long drive which was unsuccessful................ Lola came onto the radar. Last Saturday Steve and I were delighted to welcome Lola.. a curly coated ( possibly cross Lab) into our home. She looks a bit like a black lab with a perm . Lovely Lola is 10 years young and has so easily worked her way into our hearts and our pack. Benney was a little bit snarky, so for the past few days the dog crew have had hankies knotted on their collars which get a few sprays of Adaptil every couple of hours. ....

congratulations!!!! I would be starting off with what the breeder recommends then as time goes on change to whatever feeding regime you feel is best. All transitioning should be with slow introductions of the new food. I certainly would add fresh foods as part of any diet ..my old guy used to particularly enjoy meaty bones..not the marrow bone but almost joints.. his meals for a day I am sure others will give their opinions. adding if feeding kibble I would strongly recommend the very highest quality you can afford..grain free has been worthwhile in my experience.

we seem to have become so self indulgent but have lost the ability to actually see that pets are not small furry extensions of our egos and that they need a species appropriate life.. ie dogs need their pack (+ all that a pack entails)and usually that is us. WE have a moral obligation to gently teach our dogs the way to happily cohabit with humans. I sometimes wonder how many people who are vegetarian ( fe example only) because they have an ethical objection to eating animals actually consider the day to day welfare of their pets. now I am not saying that vegetarians are all not considering the welfare of their pets but merely using that as an example of how we can compartmentalise things.

http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/heavy_petting/2004/07/poor_little_rich_dog.html Poor Little Rich Dog Ernie is healthy, wealthy, and abused. By Jon Katz Ernie, a fluffy, 10-week-old golden retriever with heart-melting eyes, was originally a birthday present. The lucky recipient was Danielle, a pony-tailed 11-year-old living in an affluent Westchester, N.Y., suburb. Danielle's passions for some time had been soccer, Justin Timberlake, and instant messaging, but her parents wanted to give her a different kind of birthday gift, "something that you didn't plug in or watch, something that would give her a sense of responsibility." She'd often said she'd love a puppy and vowed to take care of it. Girl and dog, growing up together—what parent hasn't pictured it? Her folks envisioned long family walks around the neighborhood, Ernie frolicking on the lawn while they gardened. They could see him riding along to soccer games. Acquiring a dog completed the portrait that had been taking shape for several years, beginning with the family's move to the suburbs from Brooklyn. The package included a four-bedroom colonial, a lawn edged with flowering shrubs, a busy sports schedule, a Volvo wagon and a Subaru Outback to ferry the kids around. A dog—a big, beautiful hunting breed—came with the rest of it, increasingly as much a part of the American dream as the picket fence or the car with high safety ratings. So Danielle's parents found a breeder online with lots of awards, cooed over the adorable pictures, and mailed off a deposit on a pup. They drove to Connecticut and returned to surprise Danielle on her birthday, just hours before her friends were due for a celebratory sleepover. It was love at first sight. Danielle and her friends spent hours passing the adorable puppy from one lap to another. Ernie slept with her that night. Over the next two or three weeks, she spent hours cuddling with him, playing tug of war, and tossing balls while her parents took photos. But the dog did not spark greater love of the outdoors or diminish her interest in television, iPod, computer, and cell phone. Nor did his arrival slow down Danielle's demanding athletic schedule; with practices, games, and victory celebrations, soccer season took up three or four afternoons a week. Anyway, she didn't find the shedding, slobbering, chewing, and maturing Ernie quite as cute as the new-puppy version. Both of Danielle's parents worked in the city and rarely got home before 7 p.m. on weekdays. The household relied on a nanny/housekeeper from Nicaragua who wasn't especially drawn to dogs and viewed Ernie as stupid, messy, and, as he grew larger and more restive, mildly frightening. Because nobody was home during the day, he wasn't housebroken for nearly two months and even then, not completely. No single person was responsible for him; nobody had the time, will, or skill to train him. As he went through the normal stages of retriever development—teething, mouthing, racing frantically around the house, peeing when excited, offering items the family didn't want retrieved, eating strange objects and then vomiting them up—the casualties mounted. Rugs got stained, shoes chewed, mail devoured, table legs gnawed. The family rejected the use of a crate or kennel—a valuable calming tool for young and energetic dogs—as cruel. Instead, they let the puppy get into all sorts of trouble, then scolded and resented him for it. He was "hyper," they complained, "wild," "rambunctious." The notion of him as annoying and difficult became fixed in their minds; perhaps in his as well. A practiced trainer would have seen, instead, a golden retriever that was confused, under-exercised, and untrained—an ironic fate for a dog bred for centuries to be calm and responsive to humans. Ernie did not attach to anybody in particular—an essential element in training a dog. Because he never quite understood the rules, he became increasingly anxious. He was reprimanded constantly for jumping on residents and visitors, for pulling and jerking on the leash when walked. Increasingly, he was isolated when company came or the family was gathered. He was big enough to drag Danielle into the street by now, so her parents and the housekeeper reluctantly took over. His walks grew brief: outside, down the block until he did his business, then home. He never got to run much. Complaining that he was out of control, the family tried fencing the back yard and putting Ernie outside during meals to keep him from bothering them. The nanny stuck him there most of the day as well, because he messed up the house. Allowed inside at night, he was largely confined to the kitchen, sealed off by child gates. The abandonment and abuse of dogs is an enormous issue in the animal rights movement, and quite properly. There are, by U.S. Humane Society estimates, as many as 10 million dogs languishing in shelters; the majority will be euthanized. But Ernie is an abused dog, too. Nobody is likely to talk much about Ernie, the kind of dog I saw frequently while researching several books. His abusers aren't lowlifes who mercilessly beat, starve, or tether animals. Quite the opposite: His owners are affluent, educated people who consider themselves humanistic and moral. But they've been cruel nonetheless, through their lack of responsibility, their neglect, their poor training, and their inattention. I've seen Ernie numerous times over the past two years. I've watched him become more detached, neurotic, and unresponsive. I've seen the soul drain from the dog's eyes. He's affectionate and unthreatening, but he doesn't really know how to behave—not around his family or other people, not around other animals, not around me or my dogs. He lunges and barks almost continuously when anyone comes near, so few of us do. Increasingly, he gets confined to his back yard, out of sight and mind. This family was shocked and outraged when I suggested that the dog was suffering from a kind of abuse and might be better off in a different home. "Nobody hits that dog," sputtered Danielle's father. "He gets the best dog food, he gets all his shots." All true. But he lacks what is perhaps the most essential ingredient in a dog's life: a human who will take emotional responsibility for him. Sadly, I see dogs like Ernie all the time, victims of a new, uniquely American kind of abuse, animals without advocates. Dogs like Flash, a Westchester border collie who spent her days chasing invisible sheep beyond a chain link fence, and Reg, an enormous black Lab in Atlanta who, like Ernie, was untrained, grew neurotic and rambunctious, and eventually was confined to the family playroom day and night. He leaves that room for several brief walks each day. Who knows how many Ernies and Regs there are in urban apartments and suburban backyards? Few media outlets or animals rights groups would classify a $1,200 purebred as a candidate for rescue. In fact, I've contacted rescue groups to see if they could help; they were sympathetic, but they felt more comfortable with traditional kinds of abuse. A situation like this—emotional mistreatment is not illegal—was beyond their purview. I understand, but Ernie haunts me. He may be the most abused dog I kno

when my girl Snottie had liver problems .. and despite spending literally thousands of dollars and coming very close to loosing her there was no actual diagnosis. The Internal medicine specialist at the Uni of Qld was perfectly happy for Snottie to be given St Marys Thistle.. http://www.natural-dog-health-remedies.com/milk-thistle-for-dogs.html

guessing the same Amstaff/kelpie. what a sweet lassie. May the memories that You and Ivy made walking lifes path together remain forever warm in your heart. May I suggest not trying for a similar dog... for looks do not THE DOG make. Ivy was how Ivy lived and loved. Take you time and the right dog will turn up at the time. By all means browse through various rescue links etc.. taking your time.

Assistance Dogs Australia provides freedom and independence to people with disabilities. At Assistance Dogs Australia, we understand the important bond between humans and dogs. We train Assistance Dogs to perform a range of tasks for people living with disabilities, ensuring that an Assistance Dog is not only man’s best friend, but man’s most helpful friend too. Every Assistance Dog undergoes tailored training to meet the individual needs of their new owner. We support people living with physical disabilities, autism, post-traumatic stress and dementia, as well as schools and care facilities. It can take up to two years and costs over $30,000 to train each dog. Assistance Dogs are placed completely free of charge with their new owner, providing life-changing support for up to 10 years. Assistance Dogs Australia is one of my chosen charities..:)

Have you considered using an adaptil diffuser in the area near the soft cosy crate??? ( in addition to the medication and behaviour modification training

I have one still on my car that says DogzOnline........... but it is falling apart. will ask Troy

are there any still available? or can we get some more made? Helen

judicious use of an e collar I have no problem with at all. sadly many people use them because they are LAZY and not willing to put in thed time for training. I confess that I have used an e collar. I had a young female maremma who would not be quiet, ever she even barked between mouthfulls of food. After months of no success I eventually placed her + e collar in the pen beside the yard, where i could see her, one day with the e collar was all it took to remind her that she had an off button. she still barked - a lot- but would quieten for long periods and was like a different girl..much more relaxed ( no not shut down) and a great guardian. confession over.

we humans are so fortunate that the early dogs chose to become our companions and partners in life....

JRG..indeed the question is who is responsible. Your comments are quite on the money and of course there in lies the problem. I does require great inner fortitude to go against the fashion of the day. All of us from breeders, breed associations, and puppy buyers of all sorts are in a small way contributors. How can we say we are ethical when our preferences ( as a whole) have resulted in such things as The British Bulldog having such a high % of whelping difficulties that a C section is usual.. so wrong in so many ways.. i like your use of the appeal of bandy legs or not..makes the argument perfectly. I am sort of musing in this thread. H

I meant to add that for my breed of choice the Maremma Sheepdog.. the standards have changed markedly over the decades.. 1925: height m/f 58cm - 68cm weight 30kg - 40kg 1952 height m 69-80cm f 62-75cm weight m 40 - 70kg, f 30- 60 kg 1954 height m 65- 74cm, f 60 - 68 cn weight 35- 45kg f 30 - 40kg 1958/90 height m 65-73 f 60 - 68cm, weight 35 - 45kg, f 30 - 40kg when you get into the other aspect of conformation then it become even mores diverse. this is from Italian standards, add in the standards for other countries and it seems the sky is the limit.

as a one litter only breeder ( to find what I saw as responsible owners for the puppies was for me traumatic) i see one of the problems of the "breeder fraternity" the saying that they breed to improve the breed.. surely you are breeding to produce dogs that are closer to the standard of that breed... those standards have changed over the decades; the seond is the popular sire syndrome which is rife thoughout most, if not all, breeds. three: truely ethical breeders who avail themselves of genetic tesating that is now available seem to be few and far between. four: when a genitically linked problem appears in a puppy ( ie hip dysplasia, fragmented coronoid process- associated in elkbow dysplasia- , soft palat disorders, heart problems to list but a few ) few breeders take the action of no longer using the parents, nor advising owners of litter mates or near relatives of the potential problem. we have enormous resources available.. how many breeders avail themselves of these resources? http://www.animalgenetics.us/Canine/Canine_Index.asp click on canine for the list. as long as pretty, eye catching or emphasis on one aspect of a breed ( such a a great head ) instead of the entire dog ( including temperament) then this will continue. Most breeds no longer do the work for which they evolved/or were developed for and so We tend to forget that conformation is actually making the dog suitable for purpose. jumping off my soapbox now. with a reminder that I am drawing a broad brush here not pointing the finger at any individual .

This is a poem which to me sum up the having another dog. After my dearly loved Morris passed I swore I would never ever have my heart broken by another dog. I would have the working dogs but never ever a companion dog again. But t he dog gods had other ideas and along came Jake.. an ex fighting pitbull who taught me that there is always room in ones heart for another dog and somehow the right one turns up when you least expect it. May this be the case for you. Hugs and blessing and may the memories forever warm your heart. The Last Will and testament of Silverdene Emblem O'neill author E, O'Neill. I, SILVERDENE EMBLEM O'NEILL (familiarly known to my family, friends, and acquaintances as Blemie), because the burden of my years and infirmities is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my last will and testament in the mind of my Master. He will not know it is there until after I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness, he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him then to inscribe it as a memorial to me. I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their days hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to keep the objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I leave to all those who have loved me, to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most, to Freeman who has been so good to me, to Cyn and Roy and Willie and Naomi and -- But if I should list all those who have loved me, it would force my Master to write a book. Perhaps it is vain of me to boast when I am so near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to dust, but I have always been an extremely lovable dog. I ask my Master and Mistress to remember me always, but not to grieve for me too long. In my life I have tried to be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember that while no dog has ever had a happier life (and this I owe to their love and care for me), now that I have grown blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and I might not know, my pride has sunk to a sick, bewildered humiliation. I feel life is taunting me with having over-lingered my welcome. It is time I said good-bye, before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love me. It will be sorrow to leave them, but not a sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as part of life, not as something alien and terrible which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? I would like to believe with those of my fellow Dalmatians who are devout Mohammedans, that there is a Paradise where one is always young and full-bladdered; where all the day one dillies and dallies with an amorous multitude of houris, beautifully spotted; where jack rabbits that run fast but not too fast (like the houris) are as the sands of the desert; where each blissful hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there are a million fireplaces with logs forever burning, and one curls oneself up and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams, remembering the old brave days on earth, and the love of one's Master and Mistress. I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to expect. But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long rest for weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleep in the earth I have loved so well. Perhaps, after all, this is best. One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my Mistress say, "When Blemie dies we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never love another one." Now I would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again. What I would like to feel is that, having once had me in the family, now she cannot live without a dog! I have never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always held that most dogs are good (and one cat, the black one I have permitted to share the living room rug during the evenings, whose affection I have tolerated in a kindly spirit, and in rare sentimental moods, even reciprocated a trifle). Some dogs, of course, are better than others. Dalmatians, naturally, as everyone knows, are best. So I suggest a Dalmatian as my successor. He can hardly be as well bred or as well mannered or as distinguished and handsome as I was in my prime. My Master and Mistress must not ask the impossible. But he will do his best, I am sure, and even his inevitable defects will help by comparison to keep my memory green. To him I bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat, made to order in 1929 at Hermes in Paris. He can never wear them with the distinction I did, walking around the Place Vendôme, or later along Park Avenue, all eyes fixed on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do his utmost not to appear a mere gauche provincial dog. Here on the ranch, he may prove himself quite worthy of comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume, come closer to jack rabbits than I have been able to in recent years. And for all his faults, I hereby wish him the happiness I know will be his in my old home. One last word of farewell, Dear Master and Mistress. Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my long happy life with you: "Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved." No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail. Tao House, December 17th, 1940

Genomic Analyses Reveal the Influence of Geographic Origin, Migration, and Hybridization on Modern Dog Breed Development http://www.cell.com/cell-reports/fulltext/S2211-1247(17)30456-4

and wonderful photos they are too... a big life well loved.. perfect. When my beloved Jake passed these words summed it all up: from Oyez a beaumont by Vicki Hearne."Until he died he was immortal and the death of an immortal is an event that changes the world. That is all for now about Gunner, because what it does to you when such a dog dies is not fit to print. "Der Tod ist groß"" writes Rilke "Death is Huge.". https://www.sas.upenn.edu/~cavitch/pdf-library/Hearne_OyezABeaumont.pdf "

how very true. https://www.sas.upenn.edu/~cavitch/pdf-library/Hearne_OyezABeaumont.pdf

and just stand back and watch the imposition of even greater restrictions on reputable breeders and dog owners all the while the puppy farmers etc continue on their merry ways. H

a friend has asked for recommendations for a good holistic vet in Victoria..can any one help? H

so relieved...