Dogs are animals of integrity. We have much to learn from them.
Year: 2016
Thought today’s picture parade should carry an Autumnal theme!
All these photographs of the deer, wild turkeys and the Harvest Moon were taken at home last Thursday. (NB: The turkeys were born on our property this last Spring.)
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I sincerely hope that wherever you are in the world, assuming the Northern Hemisphere, you are having an evocative and peaceful Autumn, or Fall in American speak! (Barb – or Spring in ‘Down Under’ speak!)
Enjoy your weekend, and don’t miss the Harvest Moon!
Another fabulous reposting of an article that first was seen on the Care2 site.
By: Laura S. September 11, 2016
Max Kahrimanovic lives in his hard hat. It’s covered in the dust of three continents where he programs wind turbines, often at a dangerous height. But some may say Max’s greatest accomplishments unfold in the far less intricate scenarios down on the ground where he feeds hungry, and often very thirsty, stray dogs. This is the story of how Max won the trust of one of those dogs and the remarkable new life she is now beginning.
“I saw her the very first day I came to the construction site,” Max said of the shy sweetheart he encountered during his latest assignment in Turkey. “She was scared and wouldn’t approach no matter what. I would leave food and would have to walk away. Then, from the far, I would see her eating and drinking what I left for her. Slowly she started to trust me and one day she finally let me pet her on the head.”
From that day forward Karis (as Max named her) decided that she had adopted Max. She would keep watch outside his office door and she would be waiting for him when he arrived at work each morning.
“She can be naughty at times,” Max laughs, thinking of the occasions Karis dumped over the trash cans. “She wasn’t hungry, I know that much. I was feeding her three times a day. But I guess the leftovers smelled delicious to her and she had to check it out.”
And one day, when Max arrived, Karis had a surprise for him. Overnight, she had delivered seven puppies.
“My first thought was devastation,” Max said candidly. “I know, you’ll think how can I be devastated seeing so much cuteness. But in all these years of traveling through Europe, Morocco, New Zealand, etc. I’ve seen so much misery involving these animals, that I couldn’t feel anything else at that moment.”
At this point, Max had already found a home for Karis in the U.S. and was making arrangements to transport her there. But with seven more lives to worry about, now what?
“How are we gonna manage 7 pups too?” Max wondered. “Knowing what will happen to them after I leave was devastating. I knew they will either die under car wheels, die of starvation, diseases or they will get killed by other bigger dogs that wander around there.”
So, despite the enormity of the costs and challenging logistics, Max and his wife Neli – back in Sweden – began making arrangements to transport the entire family of dogs to the U.S. for adoption. They turned to the Harmony Fund international animal rescue charity for help with the costs of the rescue.
The whole family will be coming to the U.S. soon, and Karis already has a permanent home with one of Max’s friends who has adopted internationally before. Max has no doubt that Karis will be very good to her pups during the transition as she has always been such an excellent mother.
“When she had the puppies, I admired how she never went to eat their food that I gave them,” Max said. “She waited for me to get hers ready. One time I left 6 hard boiled eggs on the table for her lunch. I just stepped out to wash my hands and when I got back eggs were gone. She ate them like that, not peeled or anything.”
Max isn’t always admired for his devotion however. He said he’s known by management as “the guy who feeds strays” and that he has received warnings not to do so. But he simply can’t go against his own moral compass.
“This is much stronger than me,” Max explains. “I can’t eat my lunch knowing there is a being, not far from me, starving and hasn’t had a piece of bread for days…. We usually work in small villages far from civilization or any bigger cities. If it is possible to buy it, then I always have one or two huge bags of dry food and some cans in the trunk of my car. And on my way from the site to my hotel, I stop and feed strays that I see. If it isn’t possible to buy dog food, then I improvise with our food by either taking extra breakfast from the hotel or just by buying extra food when I go shopping for myself. I know I can’t save them all. But for that day or that time when I meet that dog I can feed him at least and give him some water.”
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I am so pleased to promote what Max Kahrimanovic is doing and to thank Laura for writing this up in the first place.
Max’s admission in that last paragraph uses words that I have heard Jean using when I first met her back in December, 2006 when she was living in Mexico and rescuing so many street dogs and finding loving homes for them in the USA.
Can’t resist this being shared again.
Oh, and before I republish the following, thanks for so many ‘Likes’ to yesterday’s post.
The following was first published back in March, 2014.
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Almost two months ago, January 30th to be exact, the first of this ‘Meet the dogs‘ series was published. It came out of an idea from Jean and that January 30th post introduced Paloma to you, dear reader. Since then we have told you about Lilly, Dhalia, Ruby, Casey, Hazel, Sweeny, and Cleo.
So today’s post is the last of the Meet the dogs stories; it is about Pharaoh. I’m going to indulge myself in telling you the story of this most wonderful of dogs.
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That is Sandra Tucker, owner of Jutone Kennels in Devon, England, where Pharaoh was born on June 3rd, 2003.
Here’s something I wrote a long time ago that conveys my feelings of that first day when I met this puppy.
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In no time at all I was turning into the farm driveway, noticing the painted sign for Jutone & Felsental German Shepherds alongside the open, wooden gate.
I turned off the engine and was about to swing my legs out of the open driver’s door when I saw a woman coming towards me.
“Hi, you must be Paul, I’m Sandra. Did you have any trouble finding us?”
I shook hands with her.
“Not at all. I did as you recommended when we spoke on the phone and went in to the local store and got final directions.”
Sandra smiled, her glasses almost slipping off the end of her nose: “Dear Beth. She’s been running that local store since God was a boy.”
She continued with a chortle in her voice, “Some say that Beth was at the store before our local pub, The Palk Arms, opened for business. And the pub’s been in the village for well over four-hundred years.”
Sandra’s laugh was infectious and I caught myself already taking a liking to her. The sense of a strong, confident person struck me immediately. Indeed, a working woman evidenced by her brown slacks, revealing plenty of dog hairs, topped off with a blue T-shirt under an unbuttoned cotton blouse.
“Anyway, enough of me, Paul, you’ve come to get yourself a German Shepherd.”
She turned towards a collection of grey, galvanised-sheeted barns and continued chatting as I fell into step alongside her.
“After we discussed your circumstances over the phone; where you live down there in Harberton, why you specifically wanted a German Shepherd dog, I thought about the last set of puppies that were born, just a few weeks ago.”
Sandra paused and turned towards me.
“While, of course, you can select whatever puppy you feel drawn to, my advice is to go for a male. Listening to your experiences of befriending a male German Shepherd when you were a young boy, I have no doubt that a male dog would result in you and the dog building a very strong bond. Indeed, I have a young male puppy that I want to bring out to you. Is that OK?”
Before I could utter a reply, Sandra turned and walked out of sight around the corner of the first barn leaving me standing there, my positive response presumably being taken for granted.
Something in her words struck me in a manner that I hadn’t anticipated; not in the slightest. That was her use of the word bond. I was suddenly aware of the tiniest emotional wobble inside me from hearing Sandra use that word. Somewhere deep inside me was the hint that my decision to have a dog in my life was being driven by deeper and more private feelings.
My introspection came to an immediate halt as Sandra re-appeared. She came up to me, a beige-black puppy cradled under her left arm, her left hand holding the pup across its mid-riff behind his front legs, her right arm across her waist supporting the rear of the tiny animal.
I stood very still, just aware of feelings that I couldn’t voice, could hardly even sense, as I looked down at this tiny black, furry face, out-sized beige ears flopping down either side of his small head.
It was unusually warm this August day and I had previously unbuttoned my cuffs and folded the shirt sleeves of my blue-white, checked cotton shirt back above both elbows leaving my forearms bare.
Sandra offered me the young, fragile creature. As tenderly as I could, I took the pup into my arms and cradled the gorgeous animal against my chest. The pup’s warm body seemed to glow through its soft fur and as my bare arms embraced the flanks of this quiet, little dog I realised the magic, the pure magic, of the moment. Something was registering inside me in ways utterly beyond words but, nonetheless, as real as a rainbow might be across green, Devon hills.
“How old is he, Sandra?”
“This little lad was born on June 3rd. So what are we today? August 12th. So he is ten weeks old as of today.”
June 3rd, 2003. I knew that this date had now entered my life in just the same way as had the birth-dates of my son and daughter; Alex and Maija.
The power of this first meeting was beyond anything I had expected, or even imagined. I thought that it was going to be a fairly pleasant but, nonetheless, unsurprising process of choosing a puppy. How wrong could I have been!
What was captivating me was the pure, simple bodily contact between this young dog and me. No more than that. I was sensing in some unspoken manner that this was equally as captivating for this precious puppy-dog. For even at the tender age of ten weeks, the tiny dog appeared to understand that me holding him so longingly was bridging a divide of many, many years.
Sandra motioned with her arm, pointing out a bench-seat a few yards away alongside a green, well-manicured, lawn.
I very carefully sat down on the wooden-slatted bench and rested the beautiful animal in my lap. The puppy was adorable. Those large, over-sized ears flopping across the top of his golden black-brown furry head. His golden-brown fur morphing into black fur across his shoulders and then on down to the predominantly beige-cream colour of his soft, gangling, front legs. That creamy fur continuing along the little creature’s underbelly.
The puppy seemed almost to purr with contentment, its deep brown eyes gazing so very intently into mine. I was entranced. I was spellbound.
Never before had I felt so close to an animal. In a life-time of nearly sixty years including having cats at home when I was a young boy growing up in North-West London, and much later the family owning a pet cat when Alex and Maija were youngsters, I had never, ever sensed the stirrings of such a loving bond as I was sensing now. As this young puppy was clearly sensing as well. This was to be my dog. Of that I was in no doubt.
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Let me leave you with a couple of other photographs taken from his early days.
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Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that in the year 2014 I would be writing about Pharaoh from a home-office desk in Southern Oregon sharing a happy life with a wonderful London lady, Jean, and more gorgeous animals than one could throw a stick at.
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And here we are with Pharaoh, as with yours truly, well into his senior years.
It’s your fault this is being published! 😉
I couldn’t resist showing my appreciation for the interest and best wishes from so many of you regarding the removal of my polyp.
Jean and I arrived at Three Rivers Hospital locally in Grants Pass a little before 10am and were quickly admitted to the pre-op room. Once I had been connected to all the various devices it was but a short wait before Dr. Nelson came in to check that all was ready for the procedure.
Amazingly, I was then back in the pre-op room after the 45-minute procedure had been carried out by 11:40am. Dr. Nelson then briefed me that everything had gone well and passed me the photos below.
I couldn’t resist sharing the photographs showing the polyp before removal on the left-hand side and the ‘crater on the moon’, as Dr. Nelson described, on the right-hand side it where the polyp once was!
The photograph on the right was taken before it was sewn over to prevent any subsequent infection.
Once again, thanks for all your best wishes. As Marina and Sue and others implied it was a very straightforward operation.
Dearest Pharaoh.
As I explained yesterday, I am distracted from all things blogging right through to the end of this week-end.
So I’m republishing a post from June, 2013 that, hopefully, will be a fresh read for many of you.
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First published June 4th, 2013.
What a wonderful relationship it has been.
Years ago if I was ever to own a dog, it had to be one breed and one breed only: a German Shepherd Dog.
The reason for this was that back in 1955 my father and mother looked after a German Shepherd dog called Boy. Boy belonged to a lovely couple, Maurice and Marie Davies. They were in the process of taking over a new Public House (Pub); the Jack & Jill in Coulsdon, Surrey. My father had been the architect of the Jack & Jill.
As publicans have a tough time taking holidays, it was agreed that the move from their old pub to the Jack & Jill represented a brilliant opportunity to have that vacation. My parents offered to look after Boy for the 6 weeks that Maurice and Marie were going to be away.
Boy was the most gentle loveable dog one could imagine and I quickly became devoted to him; I was 11 years old at the time. So when years later it seemed the right time to have a dog, there was no question about the breed. Boy’s memory lived on all those years, and, as this post reveals, still does!
Pharaoh was born June 3rd, 2003 at Jutone Kennels up at Bovey Tracy, Devon, on the edge of Dartmoor, South-West England. As the home page of the Jutone website pronounces,
The Kennel was established in 1964 and it has always been the aim to breed the best German Shepherd Dogs for type and temperament. To this end the very finest German bloodlines are used to continue a modern breeding programme.
and elsewhere on that website one learns:
Jutone was established by Tony Trant who was joined by Sandra Tucker in 1976. Sandra continues to run Jutone since Tony passed away in 2004. Both Tony and Sandra qualified as Championship Show judges and Sandra continues to judge regularly. Sandra is the Secretary and a Life Member of the German Shepherd Dog Club of Devon.
Turning to Pharaoh, here are a few more pictures over the years.
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The next picture of Pharaoh requires a little background information.
For many years I was a private pilot and in later days had the pleasure, the huge pleasure, of flying a Piper Super Cub, a group-owned aircraft based at Watchford Farm in South Devon. The aircraft, a Piper PA-18-135 Super Cub, was originally supplied to the Dutch Air Force in 1954 and was permitted by the British CAA to carry her original military markings including her Dutch military registration, R-151, although there was a British registration, G-BIYR, ‘underneath’ the Dutch R-151. (I wrote more fully about the history of the aircraft on Learning from Dogs back in August 2009.)
Anyway, every time I went to the airfield with Pharaoh he always tried to climb into the cockpit. So one day I decided to see if he would sit in the rear seat and be strapped in. Absolutely no problem with that!
My idea had been to fly a gentle circuit in the aircraft. First I did some taxying around the large grass airfield that is Watchford to see how Pharaoh reacted. He was perfectly behaved.
Then I thought long and hard about taking Pharaoh for a flight. In the Cub there is no autopilot so if Pharaoh struggled or worse it would have been almost impossible to fly the aircraft and cope with Pharaoh. So, in the end, I abandoned taking him for a flight. The chances are that it would have been fine. But if something had gone wrong, the outcome just didn’t bear thinking about.
So we ended up motoring for 30 minutes all around the airfield which, as the next picture shows, met with doggie approval. The date was July 2006.
What a dear dog he has been over all the years and, thankfully, still is!
As if to reinforce the fabulous dog he still is, yesterday it was almost as though he knew he had to show how youthful he still was.
Because, when I took his group of dogs out around 7.30am armed with my camera, Pharaoh was brimming over with energy.
First up was a swim in the pond.
Then in a way he has not done before, Pharaoh wanted to play ‘King of my Island’, which is in the middle of the pond.
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Then a while later, when back on dry land, so to speak, it was time to dry off in the morning sunshine.
Long may he have an enjoyable and comfortable life.
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Long may we all have enjoyable and comfortable lives!
Apologies for the fact that the next few days are going to be challenging, from a blogging point-of-view.
A fraction over a month ago I introduced a post called Returning To Happy Dogs where I said:
Yesterday, I was at our local Three Rivers Hospital having a colonoscopy. The procedure was a breeze but I wouldn’t recommend the bowel prep one has to take before the procedure!😦
When the results came through I was informed that the surgeon, Dr. Nelson, had found a fairly large polyp in my colon. The polyp was about 4 cms long but, thankfully, the biopsy taken came back negative – there was no sign of bowel cancer! Joy of joys!
But tomorrow I am returning to Three Rivers Hospital early in the morning so that Dr. Nelson and his team may remove the polyp. I am uncertain as to how quickly I will be “back on my feet”.
Then on Saturday and Sunday PetSmart down in Medford, about an hour South of us here in Merlin, are holding a major cat and dog adoption event. Jean and I have been invited to attend in association with a book signing for my book as a large part of my sale proceeds are going to a local animal rescue society.
Thus for Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday I am going to be republishing posts from earlier times.
I made the decision to republish posts from a few years back on the assumption, and hope, that many of you dear people that have signed up to follow these scribbles will not have previously read them. Plus, I am unsure how well connected I will be in terms of replying to comments.
Many thanks!
Loving owners want so much to know when their pets may be in pain.
Our dear Pharaoh (born June, 2003) is getting very weak in his rear hip joints and Jean and I are very sensitive to understanding whether or not he is in pain. Any loving owner of a cat or a dog would be the same; and it doesn’t stop with our cats and dogs.
Care 2 Healthy Living recently had an article on just this subject: Trying to know when our pets are in pain.
Here it is shared with you good, caring people.
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By: Lisa Spector September 11, 2016
September is Animal Pain Awareness Month. My Lab, Sanchez, is 13-years-old. I still sometimes have a hard time identifying the difference between a behavior problem and a physical ailment. Our dogs are so adaptable and want to please us so much, it’s sometimes challenging to detect their pain.
These often subtle signs will help you determine when your pet may be showing signs of pain. Some require a veterinary visit, but other times there are simple things you can do to help. When Sanchez had a slipped neck disc at age 9, I thought he was in so much pain that he’d never recover. A few acupuncture sessions later, and he turned into a puppy!
1. Mouth Fluttering
It wasn’t until I made a video with Sanchez in it that I noticed he was making all sorts of mouth movements. (He starts the mouth movement at :28 seconds.) I knew he wasn’t stressed and his lip licking was not a calming signal. It sparked enough curiosity that I had my vet look at this mouth. Sure enough, he needed his molars pulled. As hesitant as I was to have this operation on a 13-year-old dog, he came through it just fine and started acting much younger post-surgery. I didn’t realize he was in pain for months.
2. Decreased Appetite
A change in desire to eat is not always a sign of illness. It sometimes can also be about mouth pain. If you give Fido or Fluffy hard food, try some soft food and see if they want to eat. Experiment with different textures. Decreased appetite is a good reason to visit your vet.
3. Reluctance to Get In The Car
While this might happen throughout a cat’s entire life, dogs may show hesitancy getting in a car when it causes them pain to jump up (or down). Try using a ramp so that they can easily get in and out without adding any pressure to their joints.
4. Difficulty Standing Up
Older pets tend to sleep a lot and they can be slow at getting up. Give them plenty of time to stretch as they know how to listen to their own bodies. But, if Fido or Fluffy is hesitant to stand up, they may be feeling pain. Personally with Sanchez, this is one of the areas where it’s hard to tell the difference between behavior and pain. But, I can usually find out the answer quickly when I entice him with a yummy treat.
5. Decreased Activity and Engagement
When pets are in pain, they often want to be left alone. Watch for any signs of social behavior changes. Is Fido engaging with his dog buddies? Is Fluffy getting in more cat fights? Senior pets have a taxed nervous system in general and aren’t as curious as their puppy or kitty playmates. But notice if there has been any drastic change in their activity level. It may be a reason for a vet call.
The International Veterinary Academy of Pain Management (IVAPM) also offers this downloadable chart that helps you determine when you’ll need to make a vet visit.
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That downloadable chart is a graphical version, as in a pdf, of this post. Nonetheless, IVAPM are to be congratulated on producing the chart and for highlighting the important indicators when trying to decide whether or not to take your loved pet to see a vet.
This time it is not deer but kangaroos!
Huge numbers of you reacted so wonderfully to my post of last Tuesday, Afloat on a Sea of Kindness, in which I republished the account of the boat Alaska Quest saving the lives of four deer that were somehow cast into the water.
One of the many comments to that post was from Barb who writes the blog Passionate about Pets.
Barb left a comment to say that she had recently published an account of drowning kangaroos being saved and I thought all you good people would enjoy reading Barb’s post.
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This photo of kangaroos hitching a boat ride touched my heart, and I felt I had to share it with you guys.
The photo was sent to me from friends during the recent evacuation of Theodore, a small country town in Queensland, Australia, which felt the full brunt of the recent floods.
Animal losses were high during the floods with farmers losing livestock, and wild animals were no exception – many got swept away in the flood waters and drowned – but these guys got lucky.
Under normal circumstances a kangaroo would normally panic and take a swipe at a human, easily tearing him to pieces with his long, strong claws. The feet and tail are even more powerful and dangerous.
So you can imagine how hard it would be to get wild kangaroos into, and then sit, in a boat under normal circumstances . . . this is not a sight you will see often . . . but then, these were not normal circumstances.
These desperate and drowning kangaroos willingly accepted human help and were quite happy to hitch a ride to dry land. Better than the alternative.
I think even wild animals recognize when a human is trying to help them and the compassion this kind man showed to these kangaroos certainly restores my faith in human nature.
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©passionateboutpets.com
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Two very cool acts of love towards our animals!
Anyone got a story of an animal saving a human from drowning? (I bet there must be more than one account in history!)
Learning from Dogs 