Olive and I spotted a giant otter today. Walking on two spindly legs down the sidewalk. It was about five-and-a-half feet tall. I’m not kidding. Well actually I am. As we neared the last leg of our 45-minute walk this bright, beautiful, but windy morning, I spot a very lanky person up ahead of us, dressed in a dark brown hoodie with matching brown pants. The hood was up and tightly cinched, giving the impression that this bulbous head did not have a human face. Admittedly, we only saw it from the back, but the image of an otter was the first thing that came to mind. “LOOK OLIVE, IT’S AN OTTER,” I softly remark aloud. And because whenever I say the word “LOOK” out loud to Olive with a sense of urgency in my voice, her head spins around looking for SOMETHING. The otter crosses the street in front of us, continuing in the opposite direction. We round the corner and up ahead is a gigantic white dog. From far away it looks like an albino bison. Olive is starting to get very excited. A potential new rump to sniff. “GEEZ, WHAT’S GOING TO BE AROUND THE NEXT CORNER?” I wonder. A giant blue yak? I look at Olive and the expression on her face is a priceless mix of quizzical apprehension and intense biological interest. “SO OLIVE, DID YOU LIKE YOUR TRIP TO THE ZOO TODAY?” She doesn’t hear me. She’s genetically tuned-in to the odorless scents wafting from the bison’s behind.
Archive for May 12th, 2013|Daily archive page
Tie Score
In animals, dogs, humor, pets, weimaraners on 05/12/2013 at 7:01 pmIt’s only mid-May and the score is tied: Olive 2 and Patti 2. So far, I have picked two ticks off the soft pink underbelly of Olive and one off my leg and the other off the back of my head last night. (Gross.) Thankfully, none of the four were sucking the lifeblood out of either of us. I am however, not inclined to continue using the mass market flea and tick killers any more. Olive hates when I apply Frontline to her. She behaves as though it burns or itches and I’m guessing that it burns like hell. She tries desperately to rub it off, getting on her back and wriggling all over the carpet and sidling up to the base of the couch and stretching her back alongside it. Really. Could there be any more clear sign that it bothers her? When she was a pup, the first few times I applied it, I would actually see her skin “shudder” while she was sleeping under my desk. Let’s call these “medications” what they really are: pesticides. Pesticides. Pest as in “bug/insect” and “cide” as in “kill” or “slay.” Capable of killing living things. Toxic. It doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch to consider that the cause of diseases like lymphoma in dogs may in fact be the result of years and years of applying pesticides to their skin which is absorbed into their bloodstream and probably slowly breaks down their immune system. Like a slow acting poison would. I’m done with the mass market products. Although we live in an area that is “tick-rich,” and that makes the risk high, I think Olive’s risk is counter-balanced by a few things. First, she’s had a lyme vaccination. 2. She has short fur and hardly any underneath, making it pretty easy to spot ticks (Although the other day I thought the tick was a nipple.) 3. At bedtime, I roll her on her back and inspect her like a Border Crossing Guard. “SHOW ME YOUR ARMPITS OLIVE. NOW LIFT YOUR LEGS.” She seems to find this exercise mostly unusual and partly annoying, but she tolerates it. So this week, I am going to start applying Buck Mountain Organic Parasite Dust. The instructions are to “sprinkle the dust from head to tail along the spine and brush against the hair to bring the dust into contact with the skin.” I already consulted with Olive’s veterinarian who replied as I thought he might (and as I might if I were a Vet), “It’s safe to use. Will it work? I don’t know.” On balance, I think I’ll try this low risk alternative. Better than treating my dog like she’s a patch of lawn I’m applying pesticide too.