Give a Dog a Bone

We think Jack is still in West Virginia stray survival mode. You see, every time we give him a bone or treat (with the exception of hot dogs), he must "hide" it somewhere in the house. This is especially true of rawhide bones. You know, the ones he's supposed to be gnawing at in order to get rid of the tartar on his teeth.

Here's how it works: He scouts out the house. He finds a spot to hide the bone, like under a piece of furniture or in a corner behind an object. He "digs" a hole. He places the bone in the hole. Then he covers it up with "dirt" using his nose. Some of the places we've found his hidden bones are pretty darn creative. And we still have yet to find some other ones!

Here he is at work hiding a bone under our love seat. (It's covered with a bed sheet because he has tried to urinate on said love seat one too many times.)

Does anyone else have a dog that does this? As cute as it is (and I'd hate to squelch his ingenuity), I do want him to just lie down and chew on a bone. Is that too much to ask of a dog?

On Christmas Trees and Housebreaking

Well, Jack’s fur-ever family did not walk through the doors of Petco on Saturday, but he was a very good boy (aside from the barking at and humping of other dogs.) He greeted people as they entered the store; his giant bear hugs and big brown eyes convinced them to donate money to the organization.  In some cases, his paws literally found themselves right in women’s purses!

Since Jack will be with us for another week or more, I’ve made the executive decision not to put up a Christmas tree this year. You see, we’ve spent this past week trying to train Jack not to do his business in the house. The first few days with us, he lifted his leg on everything in sight. As soon as he did, we took him right outside to the oak tree to show him, “This is where you do your business.” He caught on to that message quickly. He now pees on every tree on every walk every day of the week. Plus, we haven’t had any accidents in the past few days. (Cross your paws.)

So putting up a Christmas tree seems like it might be confusing. It’s just too tempting of a target, and I’ve spent way too much money on Nature’s Miracle already to risk it.

Plus, the only thing I want for Christmas this year doesn’t fit under a Christmas tree—a loving family with a big old house for our little Jack to call home.

Pup-date: Wookiee

We received an update from Wookiee’s adoptive family. They say he’s a total love-bug. (That’s really an understatement.) He plays all day long with this brother, Zeus. They run around for half an hour, conk out, then do it all over again.

 

Oh, and by the way, the family has decided to formally name him Chewy.  It might have been because when we meet them at adoption day, strangers came up to pet Wookiee and immediately said, “Chewbecca!” It was our original inclination too; it totally fits.

The family sent along this photo of Chewy after he’d been groomed. He’s all grown up. He makes his foster parents proud—really proud. 

Jack in Training

Lately I’ve been feeling like we’re preparing for the Adoption Olympics. With just 7 days in between taking in Jack and the first adoption day, there's a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. It’s not an easy task with both of us working full time and then some, grad school, and planning a wedding.

First come the necessities—making sure Jack is healthy, clean, and looking at his/her best. We’ve spent hours (literally hours) raking out mats and dreadlocks from his fur. 

And then, of course, there’s the actual training.  We’d love to say we put a dent in house breaking and crate training, but anyone who has ever had a dog knows that these things take time. Four paws forward, two paws back. The hardest training task will be to transform Jumping Jack into just Jack. He seems to love people so much that he wants to give everyone a giant bear hug. (But I’m sure he told you that in his post over the weekend.) While many people find this endearing, it may scare off some potential adopters, especially those with younger kids.

Once we’ve gotten past the basic issues, I’d love to be able to show off some tricks. A dog that can sit and shake will surely win over hearts, right? Well, we’re about 75% there.

The final step is the pep talk. It goes something like this. "Jack-O-Lantern, you have to be on your best behavior for people to adopt you. You have to smile and wag your tail and look deep into their souls with those big brown eyes, ok? Can you do that?” Wag, wag, wag. I think he gets it.

Jack will be up for adoption through Cattitude starting Saturday, December 11. Come meet him at the Piscataway Petco from 11am to 4pm.  Here are some other new dogs that will be up for adoption: Willow, Orion, and Brownie. As you can see, there's stiff competition, but Jack is a pretty competitive guy, and he’s out to win the Adoption Olympics.

INU - BAKA: Nils Lofgren is my new favorite person.

A blogger I follow posted a link that I just have to share. It's a commentary by Nils Lofgren on espn.com about how Michael Vick has found himself back in the spotlight, worshipped by millions of fans despite his despicable crimes against animals.

Here's the article:

Vick incites outrage amid cheers

Here's the blogger's post:

INU - BAKA: Nils Lofgren is my new favorite person.

And here's a book I highly recommend about the rehabilitation of the Vick-tory dogs:

The Lost Dogs by Jim Gorant

From the Desk of Jack

Hello everyone,

Let me introduce myself. My name is Jack, though my human companions have taken a liking to any nickname that involves "Jack"—Blackjack, Jack-in-the-Box, Jackson, Jackal, Jackie, etc. I can assure you, without a doubt, that my name is just Jack.

I decided to hijack (get it... hi-JACK?) Kim's computer and write this entry myself. You see, I'm so smart that I know I'll write a better blog post than those depressing ones Kim writes.

So, allow me to tell you more about myself. The vet says I'm about 3 years old. But this comes from the guy who took away my manhood this week. I don't trust him and neither should you; I'm probably a year older or younger than that. I don't keep track of those sorts of trifling things. What is age anyway?

Among my hobbies are greeting people with giant bear hugs, burying treats that humans give me, and playing fetch. I would love for my adoptive family to take me to training and agility classes. If I don’t say so myself, I would ROCK that.

My best features are my intelligence (I learned how to “sit” on the second try!), my beautiful brown eyes, and my cookies-and-cream paws. I get along with all sorts of dogs and people. But if there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s cats. They scare the heck out of me creeping and crawling all around then sneaking up on you. But who knows—maybe I could get used to it.

Alright, I think it’s time to go outside and herd some cars. Feel free to leave me messages, and I’ll write back as soon as I can.

Paws up!

Jack

The Underworld

Beneath the world of pampered pets live millions of unfortunate dogs—in shelters, in alleyways, and worse. I’ve come to call it “the underworld.” They'll know nothing this season of photos with "Santa Paws" or over-sized stockings stuffed with rawhide bones. I’ve been grappling with the sheer number of dogs who live far, far away from the well cared for pets that we meet in people’s home and see walking down the street.

It has been my most depressing revelation thus far.

The Humane Society of the United States estimates that 6-8 million cats and dogs enter shelters each year. While about half of these animals are adopted, the other 3 to 4 million are euthanized. Even on the low end of that spectrum, 8,219 cats and dogs are put down every day, and their only crime was being born. Black dogs and breeds like pit bulls have disproportionately high euthanasia rates because of the unfair stereotypes placed on them as aggressive dogs.

It’s especially a problem in the American South. Because of economic conditions, many dog owners do not spay/neuter their pets. As one volunteer told me, many families have to choose between putting food on the table and fixing their dogs.

There is the potential for one female dog and her young to produce 67,000 dogs over a six-year period. The offspring often end up in local shelters where adoption rates are very low because people cannot afford the cost of pet ownership. These shelters are brimming with dogs that might be highly adoptable in other parts of the country. Instead, the dogs are sentenced to death to make room for more dogs coming in.

State laws regulate euthanasia. Some states require a dose of sodium pentobarbital—the same injection that a caring veterinarian would administer to the family pet whose suffering can no longer be justified. The animal dies a quick and humane death. However, for many shelters with little funding, it’s an expensive "option."

In states that allow for other means of euthanasia, some animals are put down using carbon monoxide. That’s the politically-correct way of saying “gas chamber." It’s as bad as it sounds—ten times over.

Where does this take me? It takes me to a black-and-white collie mix named Jack who won the proverbial West-Virginia doggie lottery this week. He was set to be euthanized on Tuesday. But when shelter volunteers pleaded for help, the organization we’re fostering with decided to rescue him. He’ll be part of the transport up to New Jersey this week. In doing so, he'll cross the border from dog of the underworld to pampered pet. When he arrives late Saturday night, we’ll have a cozy bed and a nutritious meal waiting for him in our home.

Yes, he’s only one dog, and yes, 8,218 other cats and dogs were likely euthanized that day. But to the future family who adopts Jack, that one dog will mean all the world.