Bichon gets a bike basket

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, Margie!

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.

Beagle’s belly swollen from a food binge

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.

A Lurker’s Perspective on Poochy Keen

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?

F, yeah — spring has sprung!

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.