My post about Little Freakster, the wayward rez dog, generated a lot of questions from my devoted readers (also known as Allison and Sarah). So, in the interest of building rapport with my readers and wasting time that could be spent reporting on Maxwell Street Days, I thought I’d get all your burning questions answered in one fell swoop.

But first, here’s a photo outtake of the little snookums:

Little Freaky, my favorite rez-ranging pup.

First, fair Allison’s query:

Q: “They kept your shoelaces? Or did you tell Freaky to keep them to remember you by?”

A: I let Freaky’s family keep the shoelace leash because, without the makeshift tether, the little guy would’ve been loose again. Also, Freaky now sleeps with it under his pillow because it smells like me and he enjoys that.

Now for probing questions from Sarah (who’s hiding her real identity under the handle “Summer Post Forever,” a reference to our carefree, college-newspaper-correspondent days):

Q: “So Freaky had a collar? How did you find his owner so easily? What exactly are powwow grounds?”

A: Geez, Sarah; you’re really unleashing a torrent of tough questions! I’ll try my best to put your weary mind to rest.

For starters, Freaky did have a purple collar, but no identification was attached. I found his family so easily because the Red Cliff community — and by extension, its powwow — is pretty small, so it was just a matter of milling through the crowd for a few minutes before we found somebody who knew somebody who knew where Freaky resides.

As for what exactly constitutes a powwow grounds, from what I’ve gathered, it’s just a designated outdoor space upon which powwows take place. In Red Cliff’s case, this amounts to a few acres of green space that’s across the highway from their casino. In the middle of it all is a circular space in which dancing goes down.

At Bad River, the powwow grounds are nestled back in the woods, and they come equipped with gazebos and other permanent infrastructure.

Thanks for reading, ladies; will that do?

There’s a special spot in my heart for rez dogs, which is the term I use to describe the often-unkempt and sorta mangy mutts I frequently found cruising around the Bad River Indian Reservation when I worked there for a year in 2005. Most of the time these pups had a home base, but — because they were neither tethered nor fixed — they’d be off gleefully exploring the reservation’s wilderness, in search of a meal or mate. Being a bleeding-heart animal lover, I was compelled on several occasions to lure these dogs into my car and return them to their homes.

Meet the latest object of my rescue obsession, Freaky:

Freaky was found wandering on State Highway 13 south of Red Cliff.

I found Freaky about a week ago, when my new beau Mark and I were driving through the Red Cliff Indian Reservation on State Highway 13. We’d seen Freaky, who was loose and looked a little nervous, at the powwow grounds about an hour before. But when we encountered Little Freaky this second time, he was running down the busy highway, in danger of being hit by a car.

So, we pulled over to the side of the highway, put on the emergency blinkers and lured the little guy into my car, where at first he sat nervously on the floor, near the gas pedal. A few bits of kibble finally helped him feel comfortable enough to jump onto my lap, where he stayed and trembled nervously until we made it to the powwow parking lot. There, Mark made a makeshift leash from my hiking boots’ shoelaces and we went into the powwow grounds to locate his owner, whose tattooed arm appears in the picture above.

Actually, Freaky — who I presume earned his name because of his propensity to hump humans’ legs, although he can’t really be blamed for that, because he wasn’t neutered — actually belongs to Mr. Tattooed Arm’s mother, who evidently knew the dog was missing but wasn’t all that concerned about finding him.

I sort of wanted to keep Little Freaky, but I had to turn him over. Later, I caught this shot of him contentedly watching the powwow’s grand entry alongside one of his humans:

Little Freaky, back with his family at last.

Maybe I’m just projecting my desire to be needed onto this little mutt, but as I was leaving the powwow, I swear Little Freaky was looking at me with love and longing in his eyes:

"Karen," Freaky thought. "Won't you take me home?"

Posted in Uncategorized ]]> http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/07/12/the-rescue-of-a-rez-dog/feed/ 4 poochykeen Freaky 1 freaky2 freaky3 http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/06/08/scoops-gets-a-vintage-sweater/ http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/06/08/scoops-gets-a-vintage-sweater/#comments Tue, 09 Jun 2009 04:20:28 +0000 poochykeen http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/?p=387 ]]>

After months of brutally cold temperatures, it is finally starting to stay warm up here in northwestern Wisconsin, ushering in days of beach-side relaxation on Lake Superior. But little Scoopers is already prepared for next winter with this sweet vintage dog sweater I scored for just fifty cents — provided to me by my kind friend, Kevin O’Brien — from a thrift shop in Marshfield, Wisconsin:

Scoops is ready for winter in this sweet vintage sweater.

I like this sweater because it adequately covers Scoops’s long Bichon body, something not done by most dog sweaters, which end up looking like weird, saucy half-shirts on the ample-torsoed Scoops. And, because its argyle print is comprised of bold, primary colors, this sweater may help signal to otherwise-confused onlookers that the fluffy, cute creature within is of the masculine sex, if not gender.

Posted in Dog Fashion & Beauty, Dog-Friendly Wisconsin ]]> http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/06/08/scoops-gets-a-vintage-sweater/feed/ 1 poochykeen Scoops gets a sweater http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/05/27/adventure-to-horseshoe-lake/ http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/05/27/adventure-to-horseshoe-lake/#comments Wed, 27 May 2009 16:57:01 +0000 poochykeen http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/?p=377 ]]>

Over the holiday weekend my friend Janelle and I traveled with Scoopers to Horseshoe Lake in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest. We went on a 3.7-mile loop hike through the lovely but tick-infested woods, and at the end of the journey we finally reached this oasis:

Janelle Cole snapped this shot of me and Scoopers at rest along Horsehoe Lake beach.

It took about 45 minutes to get to the Horseshoe Lake parking lot from Ashland, but the hike and resulting beach-side relaxation were both worth the trip.

On a side note, while Janelle and I pulled no fewer than 30 ticks off our bodies that day, little Scoopers — protected by his Vectra 3D prevention medicine — deflected all such intruders. No ticks even went near his fluffy white fur.

While I was glad he wasn’t infested, I wonder if the ingredients in the medicine, which is not approved for human use, are super-toxic. Does anyone know of a more natural but still effective way to keep ticks off of dogs?

I’m feeling a bit traumatized by something that happened today to me and Scoops. We were jogging down the Fifth Street Corridor bike trail, headed east and about to cross Willis Avenue, when two big Boxer-type dogs came out of nowhere and started circling Scoops. They began to chase him in a circle around me, and poor Scoops was petrified and trying to outrun them. I started screaming at them to go away, and leave us alone, but it didn’t work. It was like they saw Scoops as a rabbit-like creature, and they were instinctively focused on chasing him down to kill him.

I finally reached down to pick up Scoops but the Boxers lunged and Scoops got loose from his collar. One of the boxers hovered over him and started to attack. At this point, I got down on the ground and starting hitting the Boxer and trying to pry it off of Scoops; I was screaming for help. I thought my little Scoops’ guts were going to be splayed open and I was terrified of seeing my best friend die.

Finally a man came running up and helped me pry the dog off Scoops, who was left physically unscathed by the incident. I asked him if the dogs were his, and when he responded in the affirmative I promptly began hurtling a slew of expletives his direction. He muttered something about his not realizing the dogs had gotten out, but by this point, I was crying and a total mess, and I carried Scoops away from the scene.

The man went off to wherever he resides, and someone who lives in the neighborhood approached me to ask if we were OK. She said she had seen the incident, and that one of those same dogs had recently cornered her child on their porch.

After hearing this, and once I regained my composure, I called the Ashland County Sheriff’s Department to file a report. An officer met me at the scene.

The afternoon’s sole moment of levity came when the officer — a very nice man by the name of Gene Brinker — hopped out of his squad car and asked, “Well, what’s the scoop?”

He chuckled when I told him that was my little dog’s name.

After I went on to tell Officer Brinker what had happened, he said he would to try to find the man. He asked me if I wanted the guy to get a citation, and I responded in the absolute affirmative.

I am very lucky that the incident ended how it did and that Scoops wasn’t hurt. But yet I am still feeling a bit perplexed, scared and sad about it. I have only seen a dog act like that toward Scoops once before, and that was when he met some sort-of feral sleddogs. I don’t know what it is about Scoops, or about the way in which I handle Scoops, that makes certain larger dogs want to devour him.

The officer did give me one useful bit of advice: He recommended I purchase some pepper spray to take on our walks, so I can spray the hell out of those bastard Boxers if they ever come near us again.

Last Friday I hosted several ladies for supper and we installed a basket on my bike in which I plan to tow my bags, my laptop computer and my Bichon mix, Scoops! To get him acclimated to the equipment, we settled (read: forced) him in the basket and plied him with a plethora of treats:

Janelle gives Scoops a treat so he associates the basket with love.

I only pushed him around the kitchen of my apartment, and while he seemed nervous, he did not try to jump out. Before testing the equipment on the open road, I will make it nicely padded.

I road my bike out — sans Scoopers — that evening, and the basket’s support brackets came loose. I am proud to report that on the next day I went to the hardware store and bought replacement bolts, nuts and a crescent wrench, which I felt rather competent and awesome wielding. One more shot of Scoops, a captive in the basket:

Awaiting his first road test.

Happy Mother's Day from Karen and your grand-Bichon, Scoops!

This is a special posting in honor of my mother, Marge Hollish, who — beyond being a good mom to me and my sister, Christine — has been a great “mom” to our family’s pets. One pet who particularly loved Marge was Max, a Bichon Frise. In general, he was a horribly ill-tempered creature, and would growl or snap at whomever came near.

The singular exception to his nastiness, however, was Marge, whom he loved with all his little heart. He followed her around the house and listlessly lolled around when she went out of town to visit her nieces and nephews (who also love Marge ardently).

It is a great testament to Marge’s lovability that Max, who passed away several years ago, was fond of her and only her. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! I can’t wait to see you in July.

My sister’s Beagle, Casey, got into the pantry today and chomped his way substantially through a 20-pound bag of Iams’ senior formula kibble. Here he is, his normally fit body stretched far out with food:

Casey's belly is swollen and he is in a food coma.

Poor Casey. Beagles, I have noticed, seem to have no control over their appetites. My sweet Beagle mix Penny, who passed away a little over a year ago, was notorious for getting ahold of foodstuffs and snarfing them down until she was ill. On one occasion she ate my roommate’s entire loaf of wheat bread, and I could see the shape of a bread loaf extending from one side of her abdomen for the next 12 hours or so.

Casey looks like he needs to give birth to a food baby soon.

Posted in Uncategorized ]]> http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/04/20/beagles-belly-swollen-from-a-food-binge/feed/ 3 poochykeen casey-passout http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/04/13/a-lurkers-perspective-on-poochy-keen/ http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/04/13/a-lurkers-perspective-on-poochy-keen/#comments Mon, 13 Apr 2009 22:13:17 +0000 poochykeen http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/?p=354 ]]>

Hello, readers –

Check out the interesting comment I just received:

“I’ve been a lurker on your blog for awhile, and though your posts are entertaining (thanks for that), these most recent posts have prompted a comment based in friendly concern.

It’s not clear from what you’ve shown here, but it seems like the folks about whom you have complaints – the vet, your roommate – are unlikely to know or have been informed of your writings on the net.

Have you talked with them about your complaints face-to-face?  Do they know that these issues are being broadcast on the web?  My concern is this.  With your community being as small as you describe, these negative comments could easily be found via web searches, etc., eventually not showing your community, and, as a result, yourself as a community member, in a flattering way.

I realize that honesty is to be admired, though diplomatic honesty is by far the higher road to travel upon, don’t you think?”

Sigh. I have to agree with some of the Lurker’s points, especially those about me posting negative things about my roommate. I have talked with her face-to-face about some of my concerns, but not in as honest of a fashion as I have on my blog. So, I have deleted those posts, because I agree with the Lurker that they are not productive. Thanks for the reality check on that one, Lurkster.

But I do plan to keep my review of my recent experience with an Ashland veterinarian up, because I do believe that there is a place for honestly evaluating pet-related businesses on my site. Also, I did tell the folks there that I was taking pictures for a future blog post.

One thing that really bothered me about my visit with that vet was how the doctor spoke disparagingly about my place of employment. In retrospect, I wish I had been more up front with the doctor about how those comments made me feel. But oftentimes, when I’m caught in the heat of an uncomfortable moment like that, my gut response is to clam up and complain about it later to my friends.

So, on a personal level, I’ll work on that.

Thanks for the thoughtful feedback, Lurker.

One question for the Lurker: Who the heck are you, and how did you come upon my site?

Posted in Uncategorized ]]> http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/04/13/a-lurkers-perspective-on-poochy-keen/feed/ 3 poochykeen http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/03/20/f-yeah-spring-has-sprung/ http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/2009/03/20/f-yeah-spring-has-sprung/#comments Fri, 20 Mar 2009 18:12:27 +0000 poochykeen http://poochykeen.wordpress.com/?p=326 ]]>

After what seemed like an endless winter comprised of sedentary activities (eating cheese, watching pirated “30 Rock” and “L Word” episodes on my laptop) and self-medicating sedation (drinking beer, a true Wisconsin winter tradition), it appears the weather up here in the northwoods has finally broken for the better! Little Scoops, who really hated going outside in the bitter cold despite wearing booties and a barn jacket (or maybe because of), had his first nice romp on a snow-less beach in ages the other day!

Aiborne Snookums: Scoops catches some air on a Washburn beach

We are both so happy for a break from the cold weather that has kept us inside for soooo long that he wants to jump, and I want to use superfluous exclamation points. Check out this close-up shot of Scoops’ face, and tell me that he’s not smiling:

He's totally smiling!

I just finished reading this fabulous book, “For the Love of a Dog,” by Dr. Patricia McConnell of the Wisconsin Public Radio show “Calling all Pets” (sadly, I have learned that production of this entertaining pet-advice show going to be halted). McConnell spends much of the book making an argument that dogs experience some of the same fundamental emotions that we do, like sadness, anger, joy and frustration. She shows pictures of dogs’ faces, for example, where their expressions clearly look like ours do when we are feeling annoyed, angry, defensive or happy — like the little snookums shot above!

Look at how sharply he appears to be concentrating in the photo below, which was taken on a quickly melting snowmobile trail in Ashland County. I suppose if I had to assign an emotion to his expression, it would be “focused” or “contemplative.”

Doodles' interest is piqued by a curious sound in the adjacent field.

And, I kind of hate to admit it, but there are some photos of me and Scoops in which he looks a little pissed off. Take the one below, for example. I have a look of Total Love and Affection on my face, whereas Scoops looks like he Wants to Get the Hell Out of My Suffocating Embrace as Quickly as Possible.

Mismatched Emotions: I look content, but he sure doesn't

At first I was doubtful when Dr. McConnell argued that dogs DO NOT enjoy hugs, but she includes many convincing pictures, much like this one, that show how little dogs dig this form of contact.

Lest we end on a sour note, I will share one more photo of Doodles looking downright ecstatic:

Doodles jumps for joy when he sees me!

This photo was taken when he saw me coming to pick him up from his daycare provider. I suppose he is generally quite happy to see me — although he would prefer I didn’t pick him up and squeeze him to show my love.