A Rescue Mission

Image from Boston.com

I was very drunk Saturday night. Arriving home at 3am, I took Scout for a walk. We turned a corner and there was what looked like a large stray dog, a Shepherd mix I guessed, in the street. Since I recently chased a small stray through the streets of South Central and failed to catch him, I was extra determined to save this dog.

Scout spotted the dog and started barking, causing him to run. I made kissy noises, whistled and talked/slurred sweetly as we chased the abnormally fast dog. Several blocks later, I lost him. I called my friend Natasha and voiced my concern; I asked her to drive over and scan the neighborhood with me to find him. She asked me what the dog looked like. I described it as grayish brown, about 40 pounds with large ears and a bushier than average tail.

I'm not sure if Natasha pointed it out or I came to the realization upon description, but it was evident that I was chasing a Coyote. In my drunken state, I found this hysterical and laughed the entire way back to my apartment.

When I recalled the coyote incident at 7pm the following day, I thought it must have been a dream. I recounted the tale with Natasha present; she told me my "dream" had actually ocurred.

I chased a coyote. I am totally badass.

Absolutely Not Normal

Image from Dog Training Works

Remember the Tiger Woman who fed her dog fruits and vegetables then wondered why the dog pooped so much? Well, there was an interesting incident with her at the park this weekend.

Tiger treats her dog, Bijon, who is in fact a Bijon, like a child - a porcelin child that farts honeysuckle and speaks six romance languages. She brings the severely ADHD Bijon everywhere, toting a diaper bag filled with toys, wipies, sweaters, snacks and anything else the dog may need given several unlikely situations.

Bijon was running a muck when he yelped and began to limp. Anyone who has a dog, would tell you this happens from time to time and is usually nothing to worry about. As soon as little Bijon yelped, Tiger ran over with her doggie med kit but was crying too hard to check if Bijon was injured. She wanted to rush the pup to the emergency vet but the park peeps advised her to let him try to simply walk it off, which Bijon did within ten steps. Tiger slowly began to recover.

About half an hour later, we were seated on the bench chatting when Tiger had a question: "Is it normal for Bijon to ejaculate blood?" Come again? No, actually do not cum again if it is going to be bloody. We gave a definitive "no" and informed her that neutered dogs should not be ejaculating at all, let alone blood. When asked how long this had been going on she replied, "Oh, about 6, maybe 9 months." What??? Why hadn't she taken this dog to the vet? I'm pretty sure I would have been in the office within five minutes of the first blood-filled squirt. What type of person freaks out over a slightly tweaked leg but doesn't take her dog to the vet when he ejaculates blood?

I'm starting to think mandatory sterilization is a good thing. This lady should not be permitted to have children, watch children, be around children...maybe even look at children.

Thud in the Night

Image from The Daily WTF

At 4am this morning, Dave and I were awoken by a thud. Scout had fallen off the bed. She looked very confused for a good ten seconds on the floor. Then she just popped up and wanted back on the bed. She was asleep and dream running in seconds.

Dave laughed himself back to sleep while I contemplated all the injuries she may have sustained in the fall - the apple doesn't fall far from the neurotic Jewish mother tree.

Our Duty is Your Doodie - Literally

Why is Barbie's dog eating the poop?
Image from MentalFloss

As the economy is dying, a new business is booming - pet waste removal. Yes, just as it sounds, these companies come to your home and pick up the poop from your yard. Costing about $100-150/month, poop pioneers can expect to make anywhere from $30,000 as a solo scooper into the multi millions as a chain owner.

This is absurd on many levels. First of all, if you have a gardener, they will do this for no additional charge. Second, it would take you ten minutes, once a week to bend the fuck over and pick the shit up yourself - turn off The Real Housewives of Who Gives a Shit and get off the couch for some excrement exercise. And lastly, defecation duty is part of being a pet owner - would you pay someone to change your kid's diapers? Wait, that's called a nanny.

The pet-waste-removal specialists advertise that they are not a service of convenience but one of environmental and health necessity. What if the poop gets in the drinking water? What if your child comes into contact with puppy parasites? What if we make up bogus reasons for you to justify use of our worthless service?

Note: This post is angry due to alcoholic intake both prior to, and during, writing. Maybe I'm just bitter because high school drop outs are making $20/hour picking up a little feces while I have a Masters degree and am making $0/hour slaving away at my keyboard. Would you click on my damn ads people! Throw me a freakin bone here...but not a rawhide bone...because that makes Scout poop more...and lord knows, I am not turning off Real Housewives of Blow My Face Off to walk the little fucker.

Scout is a Nudnick

Image from Cafepress

For those of you who don't have a Jewish grandmother, a nudnick is an inconsiderate pest. The past few days, Scout has woken me up early via kiss/paw attack. It is impossible to sleep through constant paws to the face and aggressive lip licks; something she never does to Dave but reserves solely for me.

I eventually give in, get up and take her for a walk followed by breakfast. Then, she gets back in bed with Dave and goes back to sleep, cuddling up against him sweetly. Since I am already too awake to go back to bed, I am forced to groggily face the day while the nudnick goes back to her beauty rest.

As this behavoir increases, I think my treat-giving will decrease - I'm hoping, but doubting, she makes the connection.

Seriously? Dog Poop DNA?

Image from Webshots

If you ever take a walk in Los Angeles - something most Angelinos don't do - it's impossible not to notice several "pick up after your dog" signs. In addition to the standard city-issued signs, residents often put handwritten warnings on trees as well. Despite this, excrement inevitably ends up on sidewalks and lawns across the city. And apparently across the world.

This past fall, Petah Tikvah, a suburb of Tel Aviv, took things into their own hands by starting a program that uses DNA technology to match dog poop to dog owner. Those who do not clean up will be fined; those who do and deposit the doodie in specially marked bins will be rewarded with dog food coupons and toys.

OK, not a bad idea, but how in the heck are they going to get the DNA in the first place? As it turns out, they don't really have a plan - they expect people to voluntarily bring their dog to the vet for a DNA swab which the owner can then send to a city lab. That's like asking known criminals to go to the police station and leave some hair, fingerprints and semen. It all seems a bit whimsical. And passing a law that you must give the city your dog's DNA feels too Gattaca and like something that would only happen in China.

Nevertheless, it appears that a small Bavarian town, has indeed decided to make the doggie DNA sample mandatory. The best part: they are going to employ someone to "collect errant canine ordure and match it with the databank – or put out an alert for a stray that must be stopped." Maybe if the Canine Concierge gig doesn't pan out I'll just head to Germany. Geben Sie mir Bratwurst!

New Job Idea - W Hotel Dog Concierge

Image from Zazzle UK

Since my teaching contract at USC has ended, I've been looking for part-time gigs to pay some bills while I finish up my Masters thesis. Searching every generic and industry-specific job search database, I came to the conclusion that my best option was to become a foot fetish model* - they only work a few hours each day and are well compensated, making up to $1,000 per four-hour night. Yes, I realize I would need to shower for another four hours thereafter to make my body, and more importantly, conscience, clean but I find that when you only have $3,000 to your name, money scrubs everything down real nicely.

But today I think I found a new opportunity. I read an interesting article about The W Hotel chain and how they recently became dog friendly. I'd actually call them more than friendly, they give your pooch a special bed with turn-down treats and will even bake them a special-occasion cake, if it happens to be their Bark Mitzvah..

In order to live up to their pampered-pet claims, they have a concierge dedicated to serving your pets every need. Armed with toys, poop bags, and maps of the dog parks and pet stores in the area, the concierge knows as much about dogs as Courtney Love does about drugs - which says a lot. I want to be the Courtney Love of dogs at the W Hotel in Westwood...what can I say, I dream big.

Do you think they'll make me dress up for this canine concierge position? I don't do well in business suits; I turn into a psycho-bitch - it is like when a superhero is made awesome by a costume, but the opposite cause I get very un-awesome. Maybe I can just wear sweatpants and a hat (my usual attire) since I'll be dealing with dogs all day. I am sending an email to The W right now and offering my services (given they approve the bum look). I'll let you know how it goes. In the mean time, I'd better get a pedicure...

*Search Craigslist for "Foot Fetish Model" - there seem to be a lot of people interested in masturbating to (and potentially on) your feet.

Daned if you do, Daned if you don't

I almost JIMPed my pants yesterday. An enormous Great Dane was walking down the street and a woman stopped to say hi. The Dane went straight for the crotch and backed the woman into a bush. Then the Dane pulled his head up and the chick was riding his snout! It was the best moment of my life and I'm pretty sure will remain so for some time to come.

Is this Cute?

Cute Overload has deemed this animal adorable. Even more shocking, people seem to agree. Personally, I find the Pygmy Jerboa absolutely, unquestionably horrifying. It looks like someone tried to cross a chick with a rat and it went terribly wrong, resulting in an animal I previously thought reserved only for Dreamworks. I'm not sure if it is the long, thick tail, body-to-feet ratio, or fact that they can jump 3 feet, but I am going to have nightmares rivaling those of the Freddy Krueger variety.¹

These mutants are apparently rampant in Pakistan - good thing the Muslims have made it clear they do not want me there (think last name) cause if I had ever seen a Jerboa in real life, I would have either suffered life-ending hyperventilation or text messaged Al-Qaeda (I wonder if they are on Verizon?) to come put me out of my misery. If Muslims and Jews ever learn from the fawn and bobcat and someday get along, I'm still not hittin' up Islamabad.

Oh, no - I just read that they are very good burrowers. If those bastards get through the Earth's core² and end up in SoCal, I'm setting so many glue traps...fuck it, I'm covering myself in glue and will be a human Jerboa trap - take that pygmy bitches!

1 - Remember when Johnny Depp got eaten by his bed? The music in this version is AWESOME.

2 - Yes, I realize it is more likely for them to arrive via a rare-species smuggler, I was exaggerating for effect...it's what writers do...get over it. And no, I don't know if I used the right effect/affect and I don't give a crap.

**A slight retraction: I did some YouTubing and it turns out I don't hate all Jerboas. I think these Egyptian guys are pretty awesome.

Pet of the Week - Squirrel

Squirrel is the man - er, the dog. I met him at the park last week; his foster mom brought the little dude for some rompage. Squirrel played like a maniac with his dog pals then just chilled with the humans for some cuddle time. He loves to have his belly rubbed so much that when you say hi to him, he automatically rolls on his back and shuts his eyes in preparation for complete bliss. This picture doesn't quite do him justice - he is absolutely absurdly adorable, with a whimsical personality that charmed everyone at the park.

If you live in SoCal, check out Squirrel and other Much Love Dogs. If not, or in addition, search Petfinder to locate a Squirrel-like pup in your hood.

Does Fido Feel Regret?

Image from eHow

When we first got Scout, every time we left her alone she would find something to tear into a million pieces and scatter around the apartment. When it was an old brochure or tissues from the bathroom garbage, we weren't that upset. But when it was our journal from a trip to Israel or a sentimental favorite book, we were. And Scout knew this. She'd put her tail between her legs, pull her ears back and hide under the bed in shame.

But, did Scout actually feel conscious regret? Or was she merely giving a sign that she messed up, something perhaps just evolutionary? This is the topic of an article in this week's New York Times Science section. Recent experiments have resulted in moping coyotes, second-guessing monkeys and eye-covering tigers.

While I doubt that Scout feels human-like regret, in the sense of deep contemplation and even depression, I do think she feels something. When a dog at the park is playing too rough, the others will let him know by either recoiling and ignoring him or going at him aggressively. This generally results in the the offender slouching and withdrawing to the perimeter.

Marc Bekoff, a behavioral ecologist at The University of Colorado, noticed this same phenomena with wild coyotes, adding that if the animal did not show this regret, the others would not let him back into the group. In the wild, this would cause the animal to be left alone, therefore decreasing its chance of survival. So, even if animals do not contemplate like we do, they at least know what is right and wrong and feel some form of regret when they screw up.*

*I think cats may be the exception to this notion. Dave's parent's cat regularly shits in their sink then waits nearby and gloats when the turd has been discovered. My friend's cat routinely tears down all the curtains in her house then pisses on them. Instead of sulking or hiding, the cat actually leads my friend to the destroyed curtains, as if saying "Go out again; I dare you." Cats are some freaking pissy biatches.<sup>†

†</sup> Not Fred Holop, who was da bomb

World's Scariest Dog?

Image from GotPetsOnline.com

Could this cuddly guy actually be the most aggressive dog breed? According to a study done by The Autonomous University of Barcelona, he is indeed. Looking at 1,049 cases of aggression over 8 years, the researchers noticed that English Cocker Spaniels, like the one pictured above, were involved in the most cases followed by Rottweilers, Boxers, Yorkshire Terriers and German Shepherds.

What I found most interesting about the research is that this study, along with another by The University of Cordova, found that gold-coated English Cocker Spaniels were more aggressive than those with black or mixed-color coats. The lead researcher explained that this was because melanin shares a biochemical pathway with dopamine and other brain chemicals that determine aggression.

This got me thinking about humans and melanin. Being the dork that I am, I took several college classes in paleopathology, the study of ancient disease. I recall a professor telling us that Parkinson's Disease was related to an inability to produce a sufficient amount of dopamine. Though there has been no definitive link to race, Parkinson's is far more prevalent in Caucasians (those with less melanin) than African Americans (those with more melanin). Though the exact types of melanin in skin (eumelanin and pheomelanin) and melanin in the brain (neuromelanin) are different, I find the whole idea of skin or coat color affecting biochemistry, or rather, being linked to it, mind-boggling. This is one of the once-a-month moments when I wish I'd gone to med school instead of getting a Masters Degree in something that helps me write a blog.