Category Archives: puppies

Meatballs: the way to a dog’s heart?

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Today’s video features George Clooney.  Why, you might ask?  First, he’s nominated for a Golden Globe for his role in The Descendants.  (Confession: I still need to see this one. I’m so behind!)  Second, because he rescued a dog (which earns instant awesome points in my book).  Finally, because it’s hard not to giggle when he talks about his unconventional technique for making sure that his rescue dog chose him…

(via PetSugar)

I secretly hope that George Clooney is like the Swedish Chef, happily making meatballs in his kitchen to keep Einstein happy.

Who else will be watching the Globes tomorrow night?  I’ll be tweeting away, so feel free to join me if you’re also a pop culture/movie nerd.  I can’t wait!

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Shelter employee fired for taking non-crappy photos of dogs

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Ernie 24
Shameless plug – adopt Ernie!

You know I’m all about the notion that better photos can help dogs get adopted.  It’s logical, after all.  I’m always drawn to a photo of a pup with more personality.  (Speaking of personality… at right, you’ll see a photo I took when I volunteered at a local shelter last month.)

Anyway, today I’m here to share a story about something that strikes me as completely illogical.  Let’s say you’re a shelter… you have a crappy camera and have some crappy photos of adoptable dogs up on your website.  An employee decides to use her higher-quality DSLR to snap some photos of dogs scheduled to be euthanized and shares them in hopes of finding a rescue group or potential adopter who could save the dogs.

This woman displayed initiative, saw a problem, and took steps to improve the situation. Sounds like Employee of the Year material to me.  In reality, she joined the ranks of the unemployed.


According to the New York Times, Emily Tanen was fired from Animal Care and Control of New York City for taking photographs of animals scheduled to be euthanized.  Why?  Her photographs apparently violated her employer’s rules regarding photos – specifically, who can take photos, how the animals can be photographed, and how the photos can be used.  (One rule precludes showing humans in photos with the animals – apparently this extends to body parts such as a hand.  Even with my limited experience, I can tell you that it’s not always possible to get a photo of a nervous dog without a human’s arm or elbow somewhere in the frame.)

Emily took some lovely photos of the dogs that put the official shelter photos to shame.  It sounds like those photos helped some animals escape death row. Instead of seeing the potential here, the shelter fired her.  (Another former volunteer has also expressed displeasure with the fact that the shelter wanted to tightly control any of the photographs he took instead of allowing him to post them on his Facebook page.  Since when is wider exposure for an animal in need of a home a bad thing?)

Don’t get me wrong – I realize that not all shelters have the time or resources to devote to getting some truly fantastic photographs of adoptable animals.  They may not have enough volunteers to do so – in fact, the article suggests that there are only a handful of volunteers to take photos for the entire city shelter system involved here.  In addition, I’m sure there are sometimes valid legal reasons that an organization like this one would want to control the use of photos or set forth standards.

However, why not try to find a middle ground?  Perhaps the shelter could have taken this opportunity to revisit its policies and come up with a plan for getting photos of the animals that would both be acceptable to the shelter and would increase the animals’ chances of adoption.  (Similarly, in the case of the other volunteer I mentioned above, perhaps agreeing to a reasonable way that the photos could be circulated while noting that he did not officially represent the shelter would have been an option.)

This story isn’t about a lack of resources – you have an employee who is willing and able to help take better photos of the animals.  Perhaps she violated the policy, but wouldn’t a reprimand would have made more sense than firing her?

You can read the full New York Times article here.

UPDATE 11/15/11: There appears to be an online petition circulating to get Emily her job back.  If you’d like to learn more, click here.

 

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Does your dog "help" you rake leaves?

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It’s almost that time again… soon the leaves will change and start to fall from the trees, which means lots of raking in my future.  Last year, I think we ended up raking enough leaves to fill 75 bags.  Yes, we have a lot of trees…

Raking leaves always makes me think of my childhood dog Scotti.  She loved to chase leaves.  We’d rake up a pile, and then Scotti, my sister and I would jump into the pile and play for hours.  Those are some of my favorite memories.

Last year was our first autumn in the new house.  We were no longer in an apartment, so Bella got her first exposure to this whole raking thing.  We tried to convince her to play in the leaves, but she wasn’t very interested.  We even (gently) tossed her into a pile of leaves, but she didn’t see the fun in that.  I’ll just have to live vicariously through videos of dogs playing in leaves instead:

Tell me… does your dog play in the leaves or “help” you with the raking?

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Senior dogs: Appreciate, don’t discriminate

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Today, I have a special treat for you – a guest post from one of my favorite bloggers!  Editor-at-Large for LIFE+DOG Magazine and Founder of Grouchy Puppy, Sharon Castellanos writes to educate and inspire people to focus on the beauty and joy of having a dog in their life.  She shares stories and interviews that strive to illustrate how we all have it in us to give fearlessly and influence positively.  I was lucky enough to finally meet her in person during BlogPaws in spite of that whole hurricane thing.

I think pets, like a fine wine, get better with age.  Below, Sharon discusses ageism and appreciating older dogs.  It’s the perfect post to share with you during Adopt-a-Less-Adoptable-Pet Week.

Do dogs face ageism like people? When I read how people will
drop off their dog to Animal Care and Control because the dog is old, it makes
me a little crazy.
Why is it so hard for some people to be empathetic? A dog
lives an entire life being your companion and buddy. Who else is that excited
to see you, every time you open the front door, whether you’ve been gone five
minutes or five hours.
As we age, no one likes to feel aches and pains that come
with the advancing years. We all have to change our diet and take things a
little slower. It is the same with a dog. Why would you expect them to be any
different?
Cleo isn’t a puppy and that is a good thing. We love that
she was already an adult when we adopted her. When I think back, it almost was
like cheating because she came with bonus extras. I almost felt as if we should
have paid more. An older dog more often loves to hang out with you, rather than
dashing off to sniff every new and amazing thing. This is certainly true for
Cleo.
Sure puppies are cute but so are old dogs. Who doesn’t love
a sweet face with a little grey around the muzzle? How adorable is it when you
see a small old dog wearing a sweater. They look almost professorial. All they
need is a little pipe and a newspaper.
I can only imagine the regret these people must feel after
they get home. Their dreams filled with the consequences of what they have
done. It has to be tough thinking that you couldn’t give the same level of
commitment to a relationship as a dog can.
The upside to many of these stories in San Francisco is that
we have wonderful groups who step in and scoop up that senior dog for a new
life with people who can commit. Have you heard of Muttville? Our city has lots
of families who adore the senator or professor look in a dog.
Let me say that Cleo may be old, and now we’re dealing with
age-related issues for her but I wouldn’t trade her or these experiences for
anything. Being with her now helps me reflect on my own mortality and how I
view and treat old people. We all age and I for one appreciate having a dog in
my life who is willing to go through it all with a big happy face.

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Lend me your eyes, and I’ll write you a blog…

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Earlier this week, I advised you to stay tuned (I kill me) for a post that was somehow related to that overly cute kitten playing an invisible piano in his sleep.  This is that post.  Be prepared for some serious rambling ahead… both serious in nature, and seriously rambling.  After all, you know I love Memory Lane like I grew up there.

Do you ever get the feeling that the universe is conspiring to make you slow down and indulge your nostalgic side?  Recently, I found myself commenting on two different blog posts that reminded me of a very special show from my childhood.  Does anyone else remember Garfield’s Nine Lives?  (If you do, you may be my pop culture soul mate.)

If you haven’t heard of it, Garfield’s Nine Lives began as a 1984 book containing a group of short stories illustrating the various “lives” of Garfield the cat.  (I own this book.  Fun fact about me: as a child, I was obsessed with Garfield and began collecting Garfield books – including the daily strips, the Sunday Treasuries, and the specials.  I couldn’t get enough.  I’ll always have a soft spot for that cat.)

The book was adapted into a TV special in 1988.  My mom taped it for me when it aired.  (Ah, the days of VHS.)  I watched that special countless times – I could probably still quote most of it on request (such is the case with many Garfield specials, actually, but this one was by far my favorite).  The book is a bit darker than the TV special, and some of the lives differ between the two formats.

Anyway, you may be wondering what this has to do with… anything. While reading this post from Brian’s Home, I made a comment about Cave Cats (you know, a distant relative of the elusive Cave Dog).  This reminded me of Garfield’s first life, in which he was… a Cave Cat.  In addition, while reading this post from The Chronicles of Cardigan I was reminded of another life from the TV special – my favorite one, in fact.  It’s called Diana’s Piano.

Garfield describes this life as the one where he fell in love with music and when he “fell in love with a girl who played the piano just for me.”  As a child who took years of piano lessons and had a white cat (like Diana, the feline incarnation of Garfield in Life No. 6), this cartoon was catnip.  

It’s a touching story.  I just watched it again before writing this post, and needed several tissues.  Several.  Gets me every time.  I highly recommend it, but if you don’t find yourself sobbing or at least getting a little weepy… well, I just don’t know what to think about you.

My cat Buttercup wasn’t as much of a music fan as Diana (she was downright antisocial at times),  but I loved her dearly.  She was my first pet, joining our family when I was only three years old.  In my young mind, this cartoon was us.  (In fact, when Diana decides to scratch a visitor and has a look of smug satisfaction on her face, it was like they’d based the character on Buttercup.  Seriously.)

When I watched Diana’s Piano again as an adult, I realized that it also touched upon my relationship with another significant animal in my life – my dog Scotti.  She entered my life when I was ten years old

Scotti used to hang out by the piano while I’d play (she was much more of a music fan than Buttercup).  We were inseparable… and just like the woman in the cartoon, one day I had to leave for college.  (As she narrates: “That was a sad day.”)  When I called home, I’d ask to talk to Scotti on the phone, and I would ask my mom if Scotti seemed to recognize my voice.  I was always elated when my mom said yes.  I missed Scotti terribly, and I couldn’t wait to see her again.

Time passed.  I graduated and finally moved into an apartment off campus.  (One that allowed pets, of course.  That was an essential requirement.)  However, by the time I graduated college, Scotti was twelve years old – really too old to leave the comfort of my parents’ house.  It just wouldn’t have been fair to her to uproot her, move her to an apartment hundreds of miles away, and expect her to adjust to my hectic schedule.  I felt guilty that we wouldn’t be together, but I think it was the right decision.  Luckily, she didn’t hold it against me – every time I saw her it was like we had never been apart.  (She did – slightly – hold it against me when I adopted Bella and would bring her home with me for visits.  Although they only met a few times, I am sure Scotti was wondering who this interloper was and why I kept bringing her home.)

Scotti is gone now.  It’s been several years since I lost her, but I find myself thinking of her often.  She was truly my dog in a way that I’d never imagined could happen.  We had other pets when I was a kid, but the two of us were like peas and carrots.  A true team.  I can’t imagine my childhood without her by my side – she features prominently in the majority of my memories.

I realize that I’ve come to define the different phases of my life based on the cats and/or dogs that were with me during each time.  (Does anyone else do that?)  Each “era” is different, but they’re all special.  Just like the wonderful creatures I’ve been lucky to know – to paraphrase the song that inspired this blog title, I always got by with a little help from my (furry) friends.

Thanks for indulging my sentimental side… it’s funny what will inspire a trip down Memory Lane, isn’t it?

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