Viktor, was a Polish Lowland Sheepdog who shared his views on life and had a following of loyal readers from around the world . He sadly left all of us us way too soon. He left his PON brother, Frodo and his Berger Picard “brother”, Elroy to continue his “legacy.” We now welcome a new PON brother to our story- Wojtek- who in many ways, has the very same “bigger than life attitude” as Viktor. So we know Viktor’s spirit lives on, as does the spirit of Paxton, his Bernese Mountain Dog…
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy here on a super Saturday. And it’s already June 4 – where did the first three days of the month go?! That’s the kind of stuff that humans say. Where did the time go? It just disappeared. Where did it go? Just like I say after I eat and look in my food bowl…where did it go?
Well do you know what June 4 is? Of course you do – it’s National Black Bear Day!!!
It seems that lately there are more and more stories in the news about encounters with wildlife, like bears. Ya can’t really blame the animals- humans keep taking over their homes. Heck, when somebody even steps on my property, I go crazy! And the Boss goes crazy if someone is even walking on our road! We OWN this area. Or we like to think we do!
Here’s a link to info about what you should do if you encounter a bear while with your dog…
We have bears in our hood – but they seem to be most active in early Spring. Here’s two photos of a big guy in our yard a few years ago. In this one, he’s running down the luge run…
And in this one, he’s listening to the sound of crazy barking dogs…
That was a few years ago. Before I arrived. The bears around here have heard that there’s a crazy ricocheting mop that lives in our house, so they’ve stayed clear. Mind you, our neighbor took this one in their yard last Spring…
I’m not sure what I would do if I saw a bear – but the Warden doesn’t want to find out. She thinks the bear would be the one in trouble. Probably.
School was good yesterday. I was my average self. The Warden didn’t take any cheese treats – we ran out and she forgot to buy more. I had to settle for hotdogs. Listen – if she wants me to perform above average – she needs to branch out with some new treats. Not that I’ll EVER refuse a treat- but variety is a good thing. Training her is SUCH a challenge at times. But overall, I guess she’s doing well. I’ll keep working with her because I do think she has potential.
Greetings blog aficionados. Frodo here for your reading pleasure today. And I must confess, it IS a pleasure.
As most of you know, I celebrated a dozen birthdays this past January. Twelve is a fairly “popular” number – there are 12 months in a year, 12 hours on the face of a clock, 12 signs of the Zodiac and apparently, 12 jurors in a trial. Not that I have thankfully ever been to court. There are also numerous biblical references to the number 12. So suffice to say, 12 is a good number.
As many of you readers will also recall, several years ago, while undergoing surgery for removal of a cyst, my veterinarian noted for the first time, that I had a heart murmur. The cyst turned out fine, but this incidental cardiac finding sent me to a cardiologist. I won’t bore you with the technicalities of that appointment, but at that time (and this was several years ago now), the cardiologist and Her Highness decided that the best course of treatment for yours truly was pharmaceutical. There WAS an option for cardiac surgery, BUT while it could have potentially solved one cardiac issue that I have, it would not have solved a second issue I have. And the risks of surgery were iffy. At the time, the cardiologist asked Her Highness what the average lifespan for a PON would be. She said there is a range from probably 12-14 years IF one is lucky. Sadly, some PONs, like Viktor are taken too early, and some live long, happy lives to 15. And some even longer! The cardiologist asked Her Highness if she would be “happy” with 12. Given that it was several years off, and the fact that of the 6 dogs she had previously been owned by, only one had lived past 12, she thought that number was OK. I mean let’s face it – no time is EVER enough- but 12 seemed like a gift.
So when I celebrated my silk anniversary in January, Her Highness was thrilled. BUT, like anyone owned by a canine knows, the older a canine gets, the more the human worries. And honestly, she now felt 12 wasn’t enough. No wonder she is on blood pressure medication.
Frankly, I feel fine. I have as much energy as I have ever had. I don’t tire on walks, my appetite is extraordinary (as always), I “eliminate” in regular fashion, and IF Her Highness didn’t know I had a heart condition, she wouldn’t think about my health at all. I DO have some rather large fatty cysts, often found in seasoned dogs(I like that term better than senior)- but they don’t bother me. I went in to the Vet in the fall for a heart check and all was as it was several years ago. No worse. However, a few weeks ago, Her Highness discovered a rather odd dark lump on my back. It almost appeared to be like a blood blister – which would not be unlikely given that the Imp is still rather mouthy when we wrestle. In addition, I was still clearly battling a goopy ear – so she made an appointment to see our Vet.
Now PONs don’t forget much, so my recollection of the orb incident and subsequent problems after that fiasco, make me a tad nervous when I walk in the Vet Clinic. Her Highness kept me in the car as long as possible and then dragged me in. She did that because once I’m in, she must ply me with a continual supply of treats to keep me from either squeaking or barking. I have her well trained.
Our Vet is lovely and she is very patient with Her Highness who asks about 500 questions- while simultaneously feeding me treats. The Vet looked at my lump – and another one she found (which surprisingly Her Highness didn’t notice while grooming me the day before). Could possibly be because our grooming sessions still resemble a WWF match. Our Vet suggested she aspirate the lumps and she suggested routine bloodwork- which I had not had in several years. She took me to “ the back room” away from the pestering eyes of Her Highness.
So now – after all this dramatic build up – the results…… The rather ominous looking lumps were cysts. Goopy cysts. And my blood work came back yesterday, with absolutely nothing to report. Well – one MINOR thing – my cholesterol was a bit elevated. Just as it was in my last blood work several years ago. She suggested I lay off the doughnuts. A comedian she is not.
So. I am apparently doing as well as a 12.4 year old dog can be doing. Actually, perhaps a bit above the norm. Especially given the fact that I DO have a heart condition. Remember, I even got two legs toward my Rally Masters title in January- which included jumping. I think I’m doing splendid.
To say Her Highness was thrilled with my check up is an understatement. Not to say she won’t continue to watch me like some research experiment- and she’ll check me each time I so much as sneeze, but her blood pressure DID go down a bit yesterday.
No one knows how much time they have on this “vacation” called life. One can sit and worry about all sorts of things – including when the vacation will end. Instead – we need to enjoy each and every moment – and not take that for granted. Fetch the ball. Learn a new trick. Have fun with family and friends. Go on an adventure (even around the block). Eat the carbs – but watch your cholesterol. Explore the world around you. Smell the air. Pee on the neighbors’ garbage can. OK – maybe not that one. But Carpe diem my friends. Carpe diem.
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy here on this – the last day of May. And did you know that on this very day in 1976, some band – Who knows what their name was – set the record for the loudest concert ever – 120dB at 50 meters. Just so you have an idea about how loud that was – prolonged exposure to noise over 70dB can injure your hearing – and noise over 120 can cause IMMEDIATE damage to your ears. Hearing protection is recommended for noise exposure over 85dB. For example, your average lawn mower is 90dB. Now while you may not hurt your ears if you mow once a week, if you mow lawns for a living – you better be wearing ear protection.
Probably as a result of that crazy concert, today, according to the crazy calendar is known as Save your Hearing day.
We dogs have much better hearing then you two-leggeds. We can hear pitches that you can’t. So when it’s dark at night, and we start barking – it’s because we hear something. Or we just want to freak you out. That’s possible too.
Here’s a short article with some facts about canine hearing:
One sure-fire way to test hearing in a PON is to open the treat jar. While we might blame our occasional behavioral brain farts (like not coming when called) on the fact that we didn’t HEAR you, chances are it’s what’s called “selective hearing.” But I never told you that.
Meanwhile, it’s highly likely that the Warden suffers from canine-induced hearing loss. The average dog can bark anywhere from 80-100dB. But when you add to the chorus with multiple dogs – you can be looking at the danger zone of 120dB. Personally, I think the Boss does 120 all on his own. And he’s persistent. We’re all going to need hearing aids. And yes, we dogs can wear hearing aids…
The Warden said nobody in this house is getting one. Probably a wise decision, seeing as we rip out each other’s barrettes and have been known to restyle them so they no longer function to hold hair. In fact, after a few chews, they have no function whatsoever. So hearing aids would not be a good idea.
I had a good GBH yesterday. Came home with another dozen. The Warden is thinking about throwing some around our property in the woods. Could be fun.
Speaking of which, it’s almost time to suit up. Let’s see if I can top yesterday’s total….
Howdy doody blogaroos. Squirmy here on a sunny Sunday. After a rainy Saturday. Luckily we got up early yesterday and we each had short walks – before the skies opened and the invisible cats and dogs came down.
So what the heck is new around here….Oh yeah – the visitors have arrived and it’s not even June yet. Almost – but not yet. Who are the visitors? Well let’s just say, when these visitors come in the house, all heck breaks loose. They even freaked me out….
The Warden was in the DFZ the other night. The Boss and I had done our after-supper training sessions and we were sufficiently tired. Not that they go on THAT long – but we work hard for treats. I figured out a couple of weeks ago, that when the Boss goes downstairs to do his training session, if I run out the deck door and down the stairs, I can watch them from outside. And the other night, the Coyote joined me as well.
The Boss ignores us when he’s training. Completely. He just wants to work. Anyway, he did his thing. And then it was my turn. And guess what? The Boss decided to copy MY move and when he was put upstairs, he ran out to watch us. By this point, though, the Coyote was bored – so he was asleep upstairs.
After our training sessions, the Warden said we should take a break, and she went to scroll Wastebook on her phone. It was now getting dark – and the busted screen on the deck door was still open. Hey – it’s our dog door. We made it so we can go it and out whenever we want. Anyway, she’s a scrollin’ and she hears this buzzzzz- thump, buzzzzzzz-thump, buzzzzzz- thump sound. She looks up and ewwwwwwwwwww – a June bug was throwing himself against the walls, the ceiling, and a pole lamp. Like some large drunken walnut with legs and wings. I watched The Warden moved faster than when the Coyote escaped and she was trying to catch him. She screamed and raced out of the DFZ. Meanwhile- she saw yours truly looking totally shell shocked. Because it seems the first June bug came to the indoor party with a friend. He was on the carpet – near the pawcrafted screen dog door. I was just staring at him. The Warden decided to send him to June Bug heaven first- and did so with a wad of paper towel that probably breaks some environmental waste law. She didn’t care. But now- where was the original culprit? Well – I guess all that self-imposed banging on walls and lights gave him a concussion- because he was on the floor right at the entrance to the DFZ. Another wad of paper towel sent him to the afterlife. We just hope he doesn’t haunt us.
I’m not even sure why the June Bugs are here – it’s still May!!! All I know is that the glass door in front of the pawcrafted screen door now gets closed after dark.
What else? I had class on Friday and I was average. Not stellar (despite ALL our homework) but not a total dork either. I’m OK with that. Bottom line is I LOOKED cute.
OK. Time for a GOOD walk since we have no rain in the forecast. I think it might be a perfect morning for a GBH. I’ll let you know how I do. Suit me up!
Now we all know that our stories here tend to lean on the happy side of life. We share our antics and try to provide you with some fun and uplifting stories that take you away, for a few minutes, from the not-so-nice stories we often find in the news. But today I just have to be a bit serious.
We all have heard about the unfathomable news from a small town in Texas. Where the day began with promises – of children completing the school year, of teachers having a much needed summer holiday, of families enjoying all the joys that summer can offer. But sadly, those promises were shattered – and for so many people, their lives will never be the same….
For many people who are owned by dogs – you know we have jobs. Whether it be to guard your home against bunnies or delivery men, to herd your sheep, to serve in law enforcement or the military, to perform search and rescue duties, to sniff out bombs or to guide and assist disabled individuals.
Some of us dogs win you ribbons – because we look good, we are obedient or we can run an obstacle course. The reality is we dogs don’t REALLY care about the ribbons – we do it because it means more time with you. And some of us dogs are companions – who listen to your problems and happily greet you when you return home. We’re there for you.
But some of us canines have a job that seems a bit larger than the rest. Especially in the wake of the tragedy. Here is their story….
If you have an opportunity to support a therapy dog program, we encourage you to do so. And think of those people owned by those comfort dogs – they are as special as their canine companions….
We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled chaos the next time. Until then….
Greetings blog aficionados. Frodo here on this auspicious day – Geek Pride Day. The day has also been called Nerd Pride Day. I think there is no coincidence that I have been selected as the blog writer today. It’s a day when quirky intellectuals like me are celebrated for our uniqueness and our breadth of knowledge on a variety of subjects. I take no shame in being called Einstein. I’m smart. And I know it.
While PONs did not make the Top 10 list for intelligence, I question the methodology in this article. No doubt our overall numbers are lower in the population- therefore I doubt we were well represented in this research.
While I appreciate the opinion of Good Housekeeping (he said tongue in cheek), I believe the information presented by the AKC provides a broader review of breed intellect.
If you read about the Polish Lowland Sheepdog, you will note that we ARE described as being clever, confidant and a bit stubborn. I resent the “stubborn” descriptor- I believe a better word is impatient. For example, at times I bark. Incessantly. And it’s not because I like to hear myself, or I’m being stubborn. Instead I do so because I lack patience with Her Highness when she doesn’t perform a task quickly enough. A perfect example is at mealtime. I’m not “stubbornly barking” – I’m simply providing instruction and encouragement so that she might serve my meal more quickly.
I felt the overall description of the PON was quite good. I must confess I was rather shocked when I read that they viewed the Picard as “super-smart”. Perhaps they are – but they don’t always choose to demonstrate that intelligence. At least that’s my observation. Why any dog would stand and stare at a robin on the lawn for minutes, while they could instead, be responding to their name being called , is inconceivable to me. Does he not understand that when one comes when called, one gets a treat? Not super-smart if you ask me. I must challenge him to a chess game to see who wins. Then again, the Imp would probably be chewing the pieces. So maybe intelligence varies within breeds. I proudly represent the PON Geek faction.
Before I close and go to do my daily Wordle puzzle, allow me to share a good news story. It seems the world can be heavy at times – so one might need a story like this to lift one up. You’re welcome.
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy here on a holiday Monday. What holiday? Why it’s Vicky’s birthday!!! OK – to be more exact – it’s Queen Victoria’s birthday. Although she died a long time ago, people celebrate because she was alive once. And for government workers, and banks, and schools – it means a day off. And the unofficial beginning of the white pants wearing season. Which don’t stay white very long in this house.
But back to Queen V. I decided to check out a bit about her – and although I didn’t know her personally, I think I like her. Why? She was a crazy dog person- just like the Warden! OK maybe not JUST like the Warden – I mean in her lifetime she had something like 38 Pugs, 35 Pomeranians, 2 Border collies, and at least one Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, an Italian Greyhound, a Deerhound, a Pekingese, and a Skye Terrier. She even showed 6 Pomeranians at the very first Crufts dog show in 1891!!!! Even though she didn’t own a PON or Picard – we won’t hold that against her. Here are a bunch of articles about her relationships with her canines:
She had paintings, sculptures and photographs done of her dogs. Which is just one of the many characteristics of a crazy dog person.
I see one of her dogs was named Dash. I like that. I think I should have been name Dash. It suits my personality. Although I guess it doesn’t sound very Polish. How about Dashaski – with Dash for short?! Nah. I’m just starting to respond to Wojtek (as well as some names I can’t print here) so I’ll stick with that.
Here’s a bunch of fun facts about her – although these aren’t that much fun because they don’t mention dogs. Still – I guess they ARE interesting.
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy here on a super Saturday. Sunshine, greening leaves and black flies. Spring IS here.
So according to the crazy calendar, today is something called World Fiddle Day. A day to celebrate a musical instrument that is very popular here in Nova Scotia.
But before we get to that kind of fiddle, did you know that for us dogs, the word fiddle has a different meaning? Did you know that with us canines that fiddle behaviors are things that we do when we’re anxious, or we’re “collecting information from the environment as to how we should behave to stay safe.” For example, we might pant – even though we’re not hot. Here’s a good chart of fiddle behaviors:
Now all of the things listed are normal things that we dogs do – I mean who doesn’t yawn if they’re tired? But it’s when these things occur out of context that they are considered fiddle behaviors.
Here are a few articles that go into this topic in a bit more detail;
I want a drum set. More my style. Can you imagine…
And lastly, as a Nova Scotian, I would probably be deported if I didn’t give you a sampling of some fiddle music by the Queen of Nova Scotia fiddling – Natalie MacMaster. Natalie is Nova Scotia born and raised and is amazingly talented. So – Natalie went and married a King of Ontario fiddling – Donnell Leahy. If you have some time and want to hear some interesting info about fiddling in Canada – you can listen to their TED talk from 2003. You also get a pretty good idea of how talented this couple is:
Well that was 2003. Today the couple has 7 children. And guess what? All of them play the fiddle! I think it’s called genetics. Here are 5 of them from a few years ago….
Howdy doody blogaroos. Squirmy here on what is forecast to be a sunny Thursday. Good times! Despite the fact that, rumor has it, it might be a mowing day. Ho hum. The woman in the bug suit will be out huffing and puffing as her three supervisors inspect her work from the comfort of the deck.
What’s new around here? Everyone is feeling fine – no more random urky gurkies. The Coyote ate all his meals and he’s back on blueberries again. Darn- fewer for yours truly.
What’s in the news? And I mean GOOD news. I skip sad stories – those are sometimes too plentiful and easy to find. I like to dog around for a treasure. Just like the story of this guy:
I knew those dogs hunted for truffles, which is pretty lucrative- but that guy REALLY found a jackpot! That’s what the Coyote and I are doing in the backyard- digging for treasure. We call ourselves the Holey Terrors. Get it? The Warden doesn’t know what to do about the land mines we have created. She said they are worse than the holes that the moles dug a few years ago. Wonder whatever happened to them…
As for The Warden’s dilemma – she thinks if she fills the holes with soil, we’ll just dig them out again. BINGO – we will. If she fills them with big rocks, it makes lawn mowing that much more “enjoyable”. It’s right up there with cleaning grout. The Warden was secretly hoping the mower might have had a heart attack over the winter so she could justify getting a new one. This mower runs on gas but is NOT self-propelled. Must have been one of those end-of-season bargain mowers that was a steal. It was a steal because nobody in their right mind would buy one for a lawn larger than a bathroom. But the Warden did. And the work horse started on the second pull of the ripcord this season. Besides – why buy a new one – that money is better spent on bully sticks which we can enjoy while supervising.
Tomorrow I have class. I like to go to see my peeups. That’s peeps and pups combined. We all get along great. Plus the treats are good. If you’re not on Facebook, you might not have seen this photo taken by one of our peeups of me and the Warden last week.
Don’t I look adorable. I am looking so lovingly at the Warden. Stars and rainbows in my eyes. Showing that expression that screams “I love you.” Truth: I knew she had treats in her hand.
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy here on a terrific Tuesday. After a slightly worrisome weekend…
Before I begin, I need to emphasize that everyone is fine. OK, maybe the Warden’s blood pressure is up a few notches, but we canines appear to be in good shape.
It all began with some urky gurkies which the Boss had the other morning. He seemed fine, had loads of energy on his walk, but before he had breakfast he threw up some bile. First thing in the morning. Empty stomach. Blech. But he was fine otherwise, had P3 (picture perfect poop) and wolfed his breakfast as usual.
In the meantime, the Coyote seemed fine and ate all his breakfast. Which can sometimes be a 50-50 shot.
And me? Vacuum dog. Feel free fine.
Anyway, about an hour after breakfast, the Warden announced that it was grooming time for the Boss. He knew what was about to happen, so he hightailed it out the deck door. She went to get the instruments of torture ready in the grooming torture palace aka garage and then called the Boss. He didn’t come. So she looked outside and saw him eating something on the lawn. As fast as he could. The Coyote was also examining something in the lawn, while yours truly was in the house. The Warden ran down onto the lawn to see what the Boss was scarfing down – and realized SOMEONE had barfed. We dogs are helpful cleaners and we also believe in recycling – so when someone barfs there is no need to worry about a mess. It’s gone in seconds. Of course, though, humans have a different view of bodily functions, and she immediately started shouting “no!!!” By this point, most the clean up was done.
But now the question- who did it? The obvious suspect was the Boss, since he had the urky gurkies earlier. So he was on health watch all day. But he seemed fine. Perky, happy, hungry…. Still – she figured it was him and she was a bit concerned. Never ask Mr Googly about dog vomit. You get WAY too much information- most of which will totally stress you out. But, despite the worry, the day passed with no other problems. Until about an hour after supper….
The Warden was in the other room and she heard the telltale scurrying of feet – which either signals wildlife in the yard, a home delivery – or something else. She ran in – and there was the Boss – again enjoying a recycled treat. BUT- this time the Warden identified the pukee. It was the Coyote. How did she know? Kibble size. She had given the Boss a different food and it was teeny weeny kibbles. These were big kibbles. Meanwhile, the poor Coyote proceeded to provide another small sample – just to confirm her diagnosis.
Now he seemed fine otherwise, and was quite happy to have a treat. Or two. But of course, she kept an eye on him and slept with one eye open, keeping him in check all night.
Nothing can drive humans who are owned by dogs more crazy than poop or puke problems. It’s a sure fire way to make them bonkers.
Anyway- the good news – yesterday the Coyote was fine. All meals stayed where they were supposed to stay (he ate everything) and he had P3. Why did it happen? Maybe too much birthday excitement? That’s my diagnosis. Who knows. And as for the Boss – no urky gurkies for him either yesterday. So all was right with the world.
Picture perfect poop and no puke is a beautiful thing. Oh how you humans worry….
Viktorsviews. The Next Chapter. 