Monday, November 06, 2017
A Treat For Ruby, The 50-Lb. Puppy
By: Donovan Baldwin
I recently bought a treat for Ruby, our 50 lb. (23 Kg.) puppy.
It was a bone.
I'm a retired soldier and ex-accountant, not an expert on prehistoric flora and fauna, but based on size it either came from a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Mastodon, or other creature from the Mesozoic or Cenozoic Era.
Ruby, for all her size and rough-puppy play, has a tender mouth and is hesitant with new things. Your fingers are safe when giving her treats. She nibbles like a "lay-dee".
When she first put this huge dog bone in her mouth, she kept dropping it because it was so heavy. In fact, she can't even hold her head up when it's in her mouth, but, she loves it.
She's learned to carry it around proudly, but, like a huge cigar, one end in her mouth.
When she wants to play, she runs up to me and "throws" whatever toy is in her mouth at me.
In the case of this bone, "throwing" is a bit overstated, and the act is more the equivalent of "dropping", usually on my toes.
Due to this unfortunate habit of hers, and, the weight of the bone, I've decided that, when making future purchases of toys or treats for Ruby, I'm going to take my shoes off in the store and drop the toys or treats on my toes.
Whatever hurts the least is what she's getting.
It was a bone.
I'm a retired soldier and ex-accountant, not an expert on prehistoric flora and fauna, but based on size it either came from a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Mastodon, or other creature from the Mesozoic or Cenozoic Era.
Ruby, for all her size and rough-puppy play, has a tender mouth and is hesitant with new things. Your fingers are safe when giving her treats. She nibbles like a "lay-dee".
When she first put this huge dog bone in her mouth, she kept dropping it because it was so heavy. In fact, she can't even hold her head up when it's in her mouth, but, she loves it.
She's learned to carry it around proudly, but, like a huge cigar, one end in her mouth.
When she wants to play, she runs up to me and "throws" whatever toy is in her mouth at me.
In the case of this bone, "throwing" is a bit overstated, and the act is more the equivalent of "dropping", usually on my toes.
Due to this unfortunate habit of hers, and, the weight of the bone, I've decided that, when making future purchases of toys or treats for Ruby, I'm going to take my shoes off in the store and drop the toys or treats on my toes.
Whatever hurts the least is what she's getting.
Labels: dog, dog bone, dog treats, donovan baldwin, puppy, puppy play, Ruby, Ruby the dog
Sunday, August 27, 2017
The Dog Did Judo
By Donovan Baldwin
Ever see a dog do judo?
I did, once.
I was driving on a country road, and one dog ran up behind a sitting dog, which did not seem to be aware of the other dog, and leaped. At the perfect moment, the sitting dog, spun and flipped the other dog through the air.
A canine sensei would have been proud of his pupil.
My son-in-law is trying judo...and regretting it, as I understand. Something about being thrown around like a rag doll, hitting the mats too hard, silly stuff like that.
Actually, he's at that point in life where he is finding out he's not a kid any more. The body does not respond, including healing, as fast as it used to.
Oh, I blame his instructor to some extent. A little more one-on-one and things might go better.
Things often go better with a little more one-on-one.
When someone does something to us, or for us, we tend to see it all in a "them" and "us" matrix. In judo, they try to get you to use the other's (Let's not say :opponent".) momentum against them, or to achieve your goal.
Of course, by the same token, I suppose you could use their momentum to assist them as well.
Takes about the same amount of energy, is less painful for everybody, and, can be implemented...one on one...at ANY time of life. Just thinking.
I did, once.
I was driving on a country road, and one dog ran up behind a sitting dog, which did not seem to be aware of the other dog, and leaped. At the perfect moment, the sitting dog, spun and flipped the other dog through the air.
A canine sensei would have been proud of his pupil.
My son-in-law is trying judo...and regretting it, as I understand. Something about being thrown around like a rag doll, hitting the mats too hard, silly stuff like that.
Actually, he's at that point in life where he is finding out he's not a kid any more. The body does not respond, including healing, as fast as it used to.
Oh, I blame his instructor to some extent. A little more one-on-one and things might go better.
Things often go better with a little more one-on-one.
When someone does something to us, or for us, we tend to see it all in a "them" and "us" matrix. In judo, they try to get you to use the other's (Let's not say :opponent".) momentum against them, or to achieve your goal.
Of course, by the same token, I suppose you could use their momentum to assist them as well.
Takes about the same amount of energy, is less painful for everybody, and, can be implemented...one on one...at ANY time of life. Just thinking.
Labels: dog, donovan baldwin, helping people, judo, life lessons, sensei
Tuesday, May 09, 2017
Poem: Blackie And The Bear
By: Donovan Baldwin
The nurse said, "Mr. Owens,
It's time you were in bed."
The old man gave a gentle smile
And gravely bowed his head.
As she helped him from the wheelchair,
She thought she heard him say,
"Tonight I'll ride with Blackie,
And he and Bear can play."
It was sad to see the weak old thing
Lose the little sense he'd kept.
So, as she put his things away,
The young girl quietly wept.
Then she found the crumpled paper,
Almost tossed it in the trash.
Except for "Corporal Owens",
That her eyes caught in a flash.
As she read the yellowed pages
The walls moved out and back.
She saw a Mountie on a killer's trail
Out on a Yukon track.
It was the tale of Corporal Owens
Upon the page she read,
A hero of the Yukon,
Dressed in Mountie red.
She began to wonder of the sights
The dim old eyes could see...
The mountains and the meadows,
Rivers wild and free.
It saddened her that this fine man
Raved like a madman there
In his mind gone out to play
With Blackie and some bear.
"He's reverted to his childhood,
Or made up a place to play."
Then she saw the picture
As she began to turn away.
It was a tall young Mountie
On a horse as dark as dark,
And beside them sat a huskie,
As if about to bark.
On the back she saw the writing,
"Rick, his dog and horse."
Then in the dark of that quiet room,
Things went from bad to worse.
The breathing of the old man
Rasped out in the night,
And the nurse reached for the button,
In momentary fright.
She then pulled back her hand,
As the man began to smile.
She knew that he had saddled up,
To ride a last long mile.
Yes, tonight there'll be a rider
In the freezing Yukon air,
On a horse that he calls Blackie,
Beside the huskie he named Bear.
More poetry by Donovan Baldwin at http://ravensong.mysite.com/index.html.
It's time you were in bed."
The old man gave a gentle smile
And gravely bowed his head.
As she helped him from the wheelchair,
She thought she heard him say,
"Tonight I'll ride with Blackie,
And he and Bear can play."
It was sad to see the weak old thing
Lose the little sense he'd kept.
So, as she put his things away,
The young girl quietly wept.
Then she found the crumpled paper,
Almost tossed it in the trash.
Except for "Corporal Owens",
That her eyes caught in a flash.
As she read the yellowed pages
The walls moved out and back.
She saw a Mountie on a killer's trail
Out on a Yukon track.
It was the tale of Corporal Owens
Upon the page she read,
A hero of the Yukon,
Dressed in Mountie red.
She began to wonder of the sights
The dim old eyes could see...
The mountains and the meadows,
Rivers wild and free.
It saddened her that this fine man
Raved like a madman there
In his mind gone out to play
With Blackie and some bear.
"He's reverted to his childhood,
Or made up a place to play."
Then she saw the picture
As she began to turn away.
It was a tall young Mountie
On a horse as dark as dark,
And beside them sat a huskie,
As if about to bark.
On the back she saw the writing,
"Rick, his dog and horse."
Then in the dark of that quiet room,
Things went from bad to worse.
The breathing of the old man
Rasped out in the night,
And the nurse reached for the button,
In momentary fright.
She then pulled back her hand,
As the man began to smile.
She knew that he had saddled up,
To ride a last long mile.
Yes, tonight there'll be a rider
In the freezing Yukon air,
On a horse that he calls Blackie,
Beside the huskie he named Bear.
More poetry by Donovan Baldwin at http://ravensong.mysite.com/index.html.
Labels: Canada, dog, horse, Mounties, nurse, poem, poem about a Mountie, poem about a nurse, poetry, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Yukon
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Can We Keep Her?
It was 1994. I had just gone through a divorce after several painful and tumultuous years that had resulted in my becoming distanced from my children...or them from me.
I had met and married a lady with two children...twin teenage daughters. She, and they, had been through their own trying period as mommy and daddy's marriage fell apart, and their father dealt them all blow after painful blow.
My new wife and I had agreed that I was not to even try to raise her children. She saw that as an unfair task to place on me considering my experiences, their experiences, and their ages...they were thirteen. We did agree that I was the adult male in the house and, with her, was a co-head of the house and would act as father in all such events.
That's how we got Diamond.
We had just moved into our first real home together after a few months in a small apartment. We found a house for rent just around the corner from the girls' grandmother. It was great because they had visited there many times, and had even lived with her for a while, so they had grown up with many of the kids in the neighborhood and knew many of the families.
One of the families had a dog, and this dog had a litter of puppies. As my wife puts it, they were part Australian Shepherd and part fence-jumper. Some would say "Heinz 57".
I am sure that you have guessed what happened next! In marched the two of them carrying this little black bundle of fur. They went straight to their mom and asked the inevitable question, followed up by the inevitable selling point, "Can we keep her? They said we could have her. We'll take care of her. You won't have to do anything."
Shhh. I have to be careful how I handle this. Diamond's laying on the floor outside my office door looking at me.
My wife did what I guess was the right thing. She knew that the girls had still not accepted me completely, and not as someone who had a say-so over what they could do. She also knew what the eventual outcome of this was going to be, and she knew that I had a right to be involved. She told the girls, "I'm not sure about this. You'll have to ask Don."
The girls really wanted that dog, and they were ready to deal with the devil to get it, so they turned to me and gave me the same pitch. I knew that while this might not be a "make or break" situation in our relationship, what I did in the next few minutes was going to color the next few years in some way. This was the first real family decision that hinged on the girls' wants and needs, and I didn't want to blow it.
I was also falling for the puppy and could see my wife, who refused to admit to such emotions over animals, getting a "what a cute little thing" look on her face.
To stall for a minute, I asked what her name was. "She doesn't have one yet," they replied. As I looked her over and petted her a little, I noticed a small star of white among the coal black fur on the back of her neck. "That looks like a diamond", I said, and then I knew what to say next.
"Let's call her Diamond."
It took a second for that to seep in, but then they realized what that meant. She was going to be ours and she had a name.
She's got a little bit of arthritis now, but she is still the champion beggar of central Texas. She is the only dog I have ever known who taught herself to play dead so that she could be "revived" with treats. We have to spell in front of her, and my wife complains because the words are getting longer and she's having trouble catching them. The girls long ago taught Diamond to carry messages and small objects back and forth between family members. Although as she aged, she quit putting her toys away on command, she learned that she could barter for treats by picking up dropped objects such as the pieces of paper I tend to let fall around my desk. We had to stop her the day she tried to bring us the remote, however.
She is somewhat psychic and knows when we are about to go somewhere and might just take her along. When she realizes she is being left behind, she retreats to her "pouting spot" on the couch. If we are gone too long, she complains under her breath when we get back, and there is no way she can be enticed to go outside if she believes we might be bringing in people food.
She protects us diligently from all intruders including passing cars or helicopters that are a bit too loud, or kids playing a half a block away. She bravely and boldly attempts to terrify all visitors until they reach down to pet her, and the puppy of several years ago reappears, and they are friends for life...until the next time they come to the door.
The girls who were "going to take care of her"?
Oh, they live about 160 miles away. One is a new mother and has two cats and two dogs of her own, and her sister has two dogs. She recently got rid of her killer attack cat, but that's another story. They still love Diamond, and fuss over her when we come to visit and baby-sit her when we have to travel, but somehow she has become our dog...my wife's and mine.
I don't regret that. I am sure that everything would have turned out all right, but I think it all started to get a little easier for us to become a family the day we added Diamond to it.
You know what? She just got up and went into the bedroom. I bet she’s going to tell my wife I’ve been ignoring her. She’s long ago learned the fine art of going to Mommy if Daddy can’t be swayed.
About the Author
Donovan Baldwin is a Texas writer and a University of West Florida alumnus. He is a member of Mensa and is retired from the U. S. Army after 21 years of service. In his career, he has held many managerial and supervisory positions. However, his main pleasures have long been writing, nature, and fitness. In the last few years, he has been able to combine these pleasures by writing poetry and articles on subjects such as yoga, writing, nature, animals, the environment, global warming, happiness, self improvement, health, fitness, and weight loss. Pick up some free information on cats at http://cat-and-kitten.com/ . He has also collected several of his articles on health, fitness, diet, and weight loss at http://nodiet4me.com/articledirectory/ .
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Donovan_Baldwin
-----------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: You have full permission to reprint this
article within your website or newsletter as long
as you leave the article fully intact and include
the "About The Author" resource box. Thanks! :-)
---
I had met and married a lady with two children...twin teenage daughters. She, and they, had been through their own trying period as mommy and daddy's marriage fell apart, and their father dealt them all blow after painful blow.
My new wife and I had agreed that I was not to even try to raise her children. She saw that as an unfair task to place on me considering my experiences, their experiences, and their ages...they were thirteen. We did agree that I was the adult male in the house and, with her, was a co-head of the house and would act as father in all such events.
That's how we got Diamond.
We had just moved into our first real home together after a few months in a small apartment. We found a house for rent just around the corner from the girls' grandmother. It was great because they had visited there many times, and had even lived with her for a while, so they had grown up with many of the kids in the neighborhood and knew many of the families.
One of the families had a dog, and this dog had a litter of puppies. As my wife puts it, they were part Australian Shepherd and part fence-jumper. Some would say "Heinz 57".
I am sure that you have guessed what happened next! In marched the two of them carrying this little black bundle of fur. They went straight to their mom and asked the inevitable question, followed up by the inevitable selling point, "Can we keep her? They said we could have her. We'll take care of her. You won't have to do anything."
Shhh. I have to be careful how I handle this. Diamond's laying on the floor outside my office door looking at me.
My wife did what I guess was the right thing. She knew that the girls had still not accepted me completely, and not as someone who had a say-so over what they could do. She also knew what the eventual outcome of this was going to be, and she knew that I had a right to be involved. She told the girls, "I'm not sure about this. You'll have to ask Don."
The girls really wanted that dog, and they were ready to deal with the devil to get it, so they turned to me and gave me the same pitch. I knew that while this might not be a "make or break" situation in our relationship, what I did in the next few minutes was going to color the next few years in some way. This was the first real family decision that hinged on the girls' wants and needs, and I didn't want to blow it.
I was also falling for the puppy and could see my wife, who refused to admit to such emotions over animals, getting a "what a cute little thing" look on her face.
To stall for a minute, I asked what her name was. "She doesn't have one yet," they replied. As I looked her over and petted her a little, I noticed a small star of white among the coal black fur on the back of her neck. "That looks like a diamond", I said, and then I knew what to say next.
"Let's call her Diamond."
It took a second for that to seep in, but then they realized what that meant. She was going to be ours and she had a name.
She's got a little bit of arthritis now, but she is still the champion beggar of central Texas. She is the only dog I have ever known who taught herself to play dead so that she could be "revived" with treats. We have to spell in front of her, and my wife complains because the words are getting longer and she's having trouble catching them. The girls long ago taught Diamond to carry messages and small objects back and forth between family members. Although as she aged, she quit putting her toys away on command, she learned that she could barter for treats by picking up dropped objects such as the pieces of paper I tend to let fall around my desk. We had to stop her the day she tried to bring us the remote, however.
She is somewhat psychic and knows when we are about to go somewhere and might just take her along. When she realizes she is being left behind, she retreats to her "pouting spot" on the couch. If we are gone too long, she complains under her breath when we get back, and there is no way she can be enticed to go outside if she believes we might be bringing in people food.
She protects us diligently from all intruders including passing cars or helicopters that are a bit too loud, or kids playing a half a block away. She bravely and boldly attempts to terrify all visitors until they reach down to pet her, and the puppy of several years ago reappears, and they are friends for life...until the next time they come to the door.
The girls who were "going to take care of her"?
Oh, they live about 160 miles away. One is a new mother and has two cats and two dogs of her own, and her sister has two dogs. She recently got rid of her killer attack cat, but that's another story. They still love Diamond, and fuss over her when we come to visit and baby-sit her when we have to travel, but somehow she has become our dog...my wife's and mine.
I don't regret that. I am sure that everything would have turned out all right, but I think it all started to get a little easier for us to become a family the day we added Diamond to it.
You know what? She just got up and went into the bedroom. I bet she’s going to tell my wife I’ve been ignoring her. She’s long ago learned the fine art of going to Mommy if Daddy can’t be swayed.
About the Author
Donovan Baldwin is a Texas writer and a University of West Florida alumnus. He is a member of Mensa and is retired from the U. S. Army after 21 years of service. In his career, he has held many managerial and supervisory positions. However, his main pleasures have long been writing, nature, and fitness. In the last few years, he has been able to combine these pleasures by writing poetry and articles on subjects such as yoga, writing, nature, animals, the environment, global warming, happiness, self improvement, health, fitness, and weight loss. Pick up some free information on cats at http://cat-and-kitten.com/ . He has also collected several of his articles on health, fitness, diet, and weight loss at http://nodiet4me.com/articledirectory/ .
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Donovan_Baldwin
-----------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: You have full permission to reprint this
article within your website or newsletter as long
as you leave the article fully intact and include
the "About The Author" resource box. Thanks! :-)
---
Labels: cat, cats, dog, dogs, pet, pets
