Doggone it, that pet is cute

By William Kaempffer
New Haven Register Staff
NEW HAVEN — Think your dog, cat or goldfish is pin-up material?
If so, now’s your chance to see if Fido or Felicia has what it takes to appear in the East Rock neighborhood’s upcoming pet calendar, which will raise money to help the community fund the training of the Police Department’s two new narcotics sniffing dogs.
The contest is sponsored by the SoHu — that’s stands for South of Humphrey Street — Block Watch Association and is the brainchild of Lisa Siedlarz, the block watch president and Pearl Street resident.
"I made calendars of my own dogs," explained Siedlarz, noting that she would dress them in seasonal and holiday outfits. She said she thought a community calendar might be a good way to raise money for the police dogs, which has become a pet project for the group.
A February fundraiser at Christopher Martin’s restaurant on State Street raised $1,800. The Police Department this month received a $5,000 grant from Milk-Bone for the dogs.
Organizers Saturday will hold a "pet social and photo shoot" from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Cassidy’s Pampered Paws, 832 State St. People can bring their pets to socialize with each other and Nia and Orvis, the narcotics dogs. For $10, pet owners can get a picture taken of their pet to be entered in the calendar contest. People also can submit their own pet photos to lisa@sohunewhaven.org.
Then, sometime next month, there will be a three-day public judging — where people can cast their picks for $1 a vote.
Since it was created in 2007, SoHu has been one of the more active block watches in the city. Last summer, in a neighborhood beautification project, the group planted 44 trees on Pearl, Pleasant and Clark streets. Pearl Street resident Kevin Howe, who grew up in the neighborhood and now donates his well-appointed four-bay garage for meetings, credited that with galvanizing the area.
"One aspect of the tree planting is got people to come out and meet people," said Howe, who first suggested the canine fundraiser as a "way to help East Rock and help New Haven."
The group currently has 204 members on its e-mail list. About 40 turn out for a typical block watch meeting.
As for Siedlarz, she plans to enter her own two dogs, Bucca and Kali, in the contest, but vowed not to use her influence to sway the vote. "I think they can very much win on their own merit," she said.

Editor's note: This story is reprinted here with the permission of the New Haven Register, which can be found at www.nhregister.com

Family offers reward for return of dog

The readers of Tesla's Love know the meaning of true love. Here's an example of folks who really love their pet. Read it here

Tesla's love goes on

By Elliott Storm

Hi. My name is Tesla, and you know something.....God made me for my innocence, as he made the angels to serve him...And for me to offer you my unconditional love, and supreme friendship.
What's more, I just wanted to thank you for loving me, and that is from my heart. Being that special part of your family gave me much pride. much happiness and loving you back was so. so easy.
When I left my birth mommy sometime ago, it made me sad, I cried, I was so scared, and when you picked me up and kissed me that first time I trembled. And oh how I remember you were their to dry my little doggy tears, thank you so very very much.
That first night I didn't know what I would do, where I was! Who are these little ones talking to me! Oh mommy, I was so frightened. And I know when I cried you felt my wounds, my spirit, and you did all you could do to make me comfortable.
When I whimpered I was calling you, telling you "I know you now .....You're my mommy and I love you so very very much."
Gosh it was fun to grow, to be one of your very own, to run, to leap, to play, and when my brother and my sisters played with me, I played back, I was home, our home, and when I was hungry you game me my nourishment.
Mommy I wanted to give you more, and when you looked into my eyes you knew I did.
When I was sick you cared for me, and when you were tired and sick, I was the to comfort you.
Mommy you taught me love, and I taught you mine.
I am gone. I'm in heaven. And when you look at my pictures, know my heart and my spirit is still with you. I love you mommy.


Editor's note: This beautiful piece, written by a Milford resident who knows a lot about loss and healing, recounts what beloved Tesla might have been thinking in her beautiful canine head. It also is clearly a message to Helen and Kiley about their loss and the love that always will be with them. To learn more about Elliott Storm, visit http://www.thesescarsaresacred.com/home.html

Shelter care

The Connecticut Humane Society hopes to garner votes in a nationwide contest that, if it were to win, would bring in $10,000 towards the expansion of its Waterford shelter.
The America’s favorite animal shelter contest is sponsored by Care2.com.
The project includes a complete renovation of the Waterford shelter and infrastructure, additional sanctuary cottages for the Companion Animal Sanctuary, establishment of a second Fox Memorial Clinic, a quarantine facility, pet cemetery, and a nature trail, society officials said in a release.
The Connecticut Humane Society "continues to be dedicated to a mission that has remained unchanged since it’s founding; to promote the kindness and humanity toward people, animals and the environment" the statement said. The progressive improvements its makes to the organization as well as the creation of vanguard programs such as the Companion Animal Sanctuary and the Fox Memorial Clinic, are all designed to serve the neediest members of the population, pets that have no other place to go, the statement said.
Go to www.cthumane.org/vote, to vote for CT Humane’s Waterford shelter. The contest deadline is Jan. 31.

No pause in caring for those with paws

By Patricia Villers

ANSONIA — During last month’s busy holiday schedule, Ansonia High School’s Student Ambassadors made sure no one forgot the needs of dogs in the city’s shelter.
The approximately 20-member group raised $135 in its first Paws for a Cause campaign to benefit the Ansonia Animal Shelter. The students also collected dog food and many blankets and fleece throws.
Student Ambassador President Penny Efthymiou, 17, said Thursday she was pleased with the drive’s success.
"I’m surprised how much money we collected," she said.
She said Angela Khan, 17, came up with the idea.
Khan said her family has three dogs. "I want to continue this next year," she said.
Any items that the shelter cannot use will be donated to the Ansonia Nature and Recreation Center, she said.
Efthymiou designed a dog paw on green paper that Student Ambassadors sold for $1 each to fellow students, as well as family and school staff. The donors wrote their names on the paws and students used them to create a paper Christmas tree on a wall in the school lobby.
Ansonia Animal Control Officer Jeanne Roslonowski picked up the donations Thursday accompanied by Dixie, whom she described as "the calmest one" of the five canines at the shelter.
"This is great," she said. "It’s because of things like this that keep our dogs (alive). They are in danger of being euthanized. We need donations to keep going."
Principal Susan McKernan expressed pride in the hard-working Student Ambassadors.
"While they are a small group, the Student Ambassadors do a wonderful job," she said. "Their efforts on behalf of Ansonia Animal Control showed their caring and consideration."
She also said she was proud of the students who organized the school’s food drive and collected hats, scarves, gloves and more to decorate a Christmas tree in the lobby. The items were divided between Birmingham Group Health Services, Inc. and the Howard F. Tinney Community Center, both in Ansonia.
The Student Ambassadors have other community projects on tap. Efthymiou said they plan to participate in the Bowl-To-Benefit The Umbrella, a program of Birmingham Group Health Services Inc. that assists domestic violence victims. The daylong event starts at 8:30 a.m. March 7 at AMF Lanes in Milford.
Patricia Villers can be reached at pvillers@nhregister.com.

Editor's note: This story, which originally appeared in the New Haven Register, is reprinted here with permission. The photo is by the Register's Arnold Gold. Both also can be seen at www.nhregister.com

Another greyhound goes missing, this time in Newtown

Sighting a boost to greyhound search crews

By Nancy K. Crevier

Newtown Bee

Elwood, a 6-year-old black and white greyhound, has been missing from a Turkey Roost Road home since December 23.

Searchers have placed a live trap near the area of the only sighting this past weekend in hopes that the thin-coated dog can be captured and returned safely to his family. The hunt for Elwood, the black and white greyhound goes on. Local volunteers and searchers from the Greyhound Rescue andRehabilitation (GRR) organization out of Cross River, N.Y., We AdoptGreyhounds, and the Connecticut Greyhound Adopt organization have been seeking the dog, owned by Greg and Kara Pansa.

Greyhounds, unlike most other dogs, have only a single layer coat and extremely low body fat, making them more susceptible to cold weather than other canines. Elwood was not wearing a protective coat when he disappeared from his yard, and family and search members can only hope that the dog has found shelter. Four sightings over the weekend have raised hopes that the greyhound may still be in the immediate vicinity of his home, although three of those sightings were discredited, said local GRR member and volunteer Dawn Adams.

"One sighting in the Toddy Hill Road area could definitely be legitimate, though," said Ms Adams. "Any sighting is very helpful. "This week, the search has turned down the level of involvement,though.

"We are asking people to stay out of the woods and not call for the dog at this time," Ms Adams said, Monday, January 5.

"At this point, he has been missing for nearly two weeks and wherever he is, he is in survival mode, and scared."

The search groups are focused on keeping the greyhound in the area,and because the dog has probably become too frightened to respond even to its owners, a live trap similar to the Havahart trap, has been setout in hopes of luring the dog into it. "We are hoping to set up two more traps this week, too," said Ms Adams.

The trap is checked every couple of hours and baited with food, as well as items with the owners' scents and Elwood's own bedding. "We can only hope to capture Elwood now," Ms Adams explained.

Area residents are asked to keep their eyes open for any sight of the 80-pound, deer-like black and white dog. He was last seen wearing a blue collar, and has identifying tattoos in each ear.

"Do not call his name, and do not approach him, if you see this dog,"urged Ms Adams. "He is scared, and will run. Retreat quietly and call either 914-763-2221 or 914-403-0872."

Any information about the greyhound is greatly appreciated, she said.

Editor's note: this story was provided by Eliza Hallabeck. It is a reprint from the Newtown Bee, where Eliza is a reporter. Tesla's Love will print any story about missing pets. Send them to teslaslove@gmail.com

The search goes on for Finnley

Distraught owner ‘amazed’ by public response to lost dog

By Bridget Albert
When Milford resident Kellie Roper brought her pet greyhound to Companion Animal Hospital of Milford on Dec. 29, she never expected she would be going home alone.
Roper adopted Finnley Nov. 1 from ReGap CT, a rescue group, and brought the dog to the animal hospital for dental work.
"When I first called to make an appointment for Finnley I asked if they knew how to handle a greyhound. They said ‘yes’ they did," Roper said. "Apparently they don’t."
She has not seen Finnley since that day.
Despite some sightings of Finnley in the Walnut Beach area, a widespread search and newspaper advertisements the animal hospital placed, the animal has not turned up.
"People I have never met have come from 1½ hours away, scrambling through brush and forest helping me look for my dog," Roper said.
"People in Milford have amazed me calling with wishes and prayers. It’s nice to know there is still such generosity left in the world," she said.
Roper said Finnley is black, with a gray muzzle, weighs 54 pounds and wears a pink/purple collar with yellow bones on it and might be dragging a leash. Roper also said the greyhound has a REGAP of CT tag, and that the dog is shy but extremely friendly and loves the sound of children.
Roper said she was told by hospital owner Dr. Kenneth Preli that veterinarian Dr. Dave Champaigne took Finnley outside after the Dec. 29 dental work.
"He said she became tangled in her leash and when (Champaigne) went to untangle her he dropped the leash and she bolted," Roper said.
Hospital administrator Rona Preli said when Champaigne went to pick up the leash Finnley "was probably disoriented."
"I was told he chased her into the K-Mart lot and jumped in a stranger’s car to try and follow her. He borrowed a cell phone and called the office and they evacuated the office and went looking for her," Roper said.
Rona Preli said eight of the office staff of 10 people immediately left to look for the greyhound and searched until 8 p.m. that night and for the next four days. Since then, she said, staff have continued to canvass the area, putting up fliers and talking to people.
Roper said the greyhound community, as well as the Milford community, have been extremely helpful, finding time to help her repeatedly canvass the beach area and put up fliers everywhere. Rona Preli said the hospital contacted area police and fire departments and animal control officials.
Roper said Milford Animal Control, which has increased patrols in the vicinity Finnley has been seen, has been "truly amazing."
Roper said before the dog was lost, Finnley had changed her life.
"She has made me take a step back from work stress and Ironman training. She has made me relax. She has been a wonderful stress reliever," Roper said.
Anyone with information on Finnley can reach Roper at (203) 506-4790.

Editor's note: This is a reprint of a story originally printed in the New Haven Register. It is printed here with permission of the Register.

One Cool Cat

On this cold New Year's Day with new snow all around us, Tesla's Love offers this story to warm your heart. Happy 2009.


By Mark Brackenbury

Bo was an outgoing, amiable sort, always there with a friendly head butt.
But he had his quirks.
He loved eating chicken and cold cuts on the counter in the kitchen, drinking from the faucet on the bathroom sink, sunbathing, and claiming the softest chair in whatever room his family was in. If he could have told the difference between a weekday and the weekend, he would have made a fine alarm clock: he woke us at 5:30 every morning, almost to the minute.
Bo was a polite little man, chirping what seemed like a thank you whenever we opened the door to let him inside. And despite claws that looked rather menacing when he opened his paws and stretched, he never once scratched anyone. Not that he didn’t use the claws to his advantage. When we weren’t paying sufficient attention to him, he would reach out and give a little tap on our face or arm, extending just enough claw to make his presence felt in no uncertain terms. He was death on sweaters.
In his younger days he loved walks with our golden retriever, Brandy. He scooted along behind us, his feet working furiously to keep up and his black tail straight in the air. In later years, after Brandy was gone, Bo would make the long walk down the driveway with me to get the paper, dawdling behind out near the road but then racing back to the front steps to wait on me. He also enjoyed racing up and down the hallway, sounding like a herd of horses, before stopping himself by sliding on the carpet runner.
He was less enthused about eating on the floor, drinking from a bowl, being cooped up inside and being alone. But the two things he hated most, cold weather and riding in cars, sometimes forced him to compromise. Particularly in his old age, Bo was something of a weather wimp, poking his nose into the outside air and quickly turning and scampering inside if he felt the slightest chill. Riding in cars was a major trauma - for Bo and us - because he always got sick within a few minutes.
Maybe his fear of travel had to do with how he came to us, which always remained a mystery. In the fall of 1990, Bo arrived along with a new refrigerator. As I opened the door for the deliverymen, there was Bo yelling at me from a big rock across the front yard. He seemed well groomed, friendly and unafraid, so he must have had a home somewhere. But despite our advertising and calls to the delivery company, no one ever came forward, and Bo was ours. The vet guessed Bo was about 7 months old.
He almost didn't make it much further.
The next spring, one of our teen girls was home alone after school and decided to do some laundry. As she opened the dryer for a moment to check on some clothes that weren't quite ready, the phone rang. She slammed the door, turned the dryer back on, and ran to answer the call. When she returned to check on the clothes 15 minutes or so later, Bo staggered out, dazed and bleeding from the mouth.
The vet said the prognosis was grim, that the key would be whether he could eat, which seemed a longshot given that his mouth was burned. This was on Good Friday. Saturday, we were losing hope because the vet said he showed no interest in food. Well, a quick trip to the supermarket for some sliced turkey changed everything.
By Sunday - Easter - Bo was back home.
We are not particularly religious, but wow, what irony. Other than a little droop on one side of his mouth, Bo was none the worse for wear. But he never – ever – hopped in the dryer again.
Bo lived to be 18, dying essentially of old age this spring. Of course, he had slowed down a bit in his later years. His attempts to jump onto the counter started coming up a bit short (he seemed embarrassed), and occasional hair loss because of a skin condition made him look a bit rickety at times.
But in other ways he never changed. He still woke us up at 5:30 each day, ate his sliced turkey or roast beef, and followed us from room to room. And he still stood at the top of the stairs yelling at us as we came home at the end of the day, annoyed that we were gone so long but happy to see us.
A cool cat, as always.

A heck of a haiku

The following haikus are by Tristram DeRoma of Shelton

They prove animals not only inspire love, they also inspire poetry.

Dog
Dog is God reversed,
I think, scooping up your mess--
a cruel joke indeed.

Dog
Little fuzzy dog
licks my face and snuffs my hair.
Sunday afternoon.

My cat
Patiently my cat
waits for the sunbeam's return--
ears cocked, tail twitching…..


Where did that cat go.
One more black shoe than normal
gives his game away.


Yellow eyes appear
in the jumble of black shoes.
Time for your bath, cat.


Leaves
Rustling fall leaves
remind me that you’re still gone--
and I am still here.

Bailey is a girl's best friend

This story, published in honor of Christmas Day and the love we all share, is by a dear friend to Tesla's Love. Merry Christmas everyone.

By Brittany Galla

I was 15 when Bailey ran into my life.

I had just buried my beloved Siberian Husky, Niki, and I was in no mood for a new dog. Niki was 12, sweet and calm, and we had seen her passing coming. Her last days were bittersweet. I remember crying to my dad, telling him that I could never love another dog the way I did with Niki.
Exactly a month later, my sister came home with a picture of a Chow/Lab mix named Bailey...who needed a home, fast. If he couldn't find one, he'd be off to the pound and then who knows what. I was cautious and not into it, but my dad agreed to keeping him for a night or two until he found a real home.
And then Bailey ran in. Literally ran into my home, my room, my heart. He was a ball full of crazy energy, life and happiness. My heart was still reeling from losing Niki, but because Bailey was such a different dog, I didn't feel like it was a replacement for Niki's beloved spot. I gave Bailey a chance for one night, and by the next morning, had told my parents that I wanted to keep Bailey and we were his new home, and I was his owner.
Dogs are known for their loyalty, and Bailey is the epitome of the term. Since the first minute we met, he followed me EVERYWHERE, refusing to leave my side. He slept at the foot of my bed, raced downstairs to reach the bottom before me and was always one step ahead of me. And he was protective, that's for sure. My mom loves to tell the story about how during the first few weeks when we got him, she would go into my room and try to wake me up for school and he'd growl protectively over me, refusing to let my own mother try to wake me!
Eight years later, he's still just as energetic, loving and loyal. It may sound silly, but I feel like I have a very special bond with Bai, even though he may just be a dog. He's my best friend and my loyal companion.
My dad always reminds me of how crazy/bad-dog-Bailey was saved by us, but I know it's much deeper than that. In every way possible, Bailey saved me and showed me the importance of love, all over again.

Thank you, my dear Bailey, for being everything I need at the exact moment I need it. I love you.

Editor's note: Brittany Galla, a graduate of Southern Connecticut State University, is now an editor with a prominent national magazine.

Puntja was a wonderful pet

Finally, a fish love story! They are finned, not furry, but this story proves that people adore their fish as much as any other pet.

Read the story here: newyorktimes

My beloved cat

By Sharon Corey

Back in 1992 my boys found a gray kitten under a bush, apparently the mamma cat was no where to be found.
This kitten was only a few days old, so I decided to take care of the kitten until it was old enough to give away. I had no intention of keeping the kitten and even refused to name him.
My boys kept bugging me to give him a name, so I started calling him Mr. Kitty and the name stuck, and we ended up keeping him.
He was the best cat ever, he was a very affectionate and loving cat.
Mr. Kitty expected to be fed first thing in the morning when I got up and if I didn't feed him right away, he would bite me in the back of the calf. He would sleep under the covers with me with his head on the pillow.
One day he started to go to the bathroom on the floor instead of the litter box, which was not like him at all so I took him to the vet and found out that he had kidney disease but I wasn't ready to let him go so I brought him home only to return to the vet two days later because when I saw just how much pain he was in I knew that the best thing for him was to end his suffering.
It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make.
He rubbed his face against mine for the last time and looked at me with such love in his eyes right before he took his last breath, I stayed with him and held him in my arms for the longest time wondering if indeed I did make the right decision.
I cried like a baby because I had lost such a precious part of me. Mr. Kitty will always remain in my heart, I keep a picture of him on my nightstand to this day.
He was a part of the family for 12 wonderful years.


West Haven Animal Shelter

The right time

Author Sandi Kahn Shelton recently lost her beloved dog, Jordie. She wrote about it here:

sandishelton.com

I rescued a human today

By Janine Allen

Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering apprehensively into the kennels.
I felt her need instantly and knew I had to help her. I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she wouldn't be afraid.
As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view from a little accident I had in the back of my cage. I didn't want her to know that I hadn't been walked today. Sometimes the shelter keepers get too busy and I didn't want her to think poorly of them.
As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn't feel sad about my past. I only have the future to look forward to and want to make a difference in someone's life.
She got down on her knees and made little kissy sounds at me. I shoved my shoulder and side of my head up against the bars to comfort her. Gentle fingertips caressed my neck; she was desperate for companionship.
A tear fell down her cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well.
Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I instantly jumped into her arms. I would promise to keep her safe. I would promise to always be by her side. I would promise to do everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her eyes. I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor. So many more are out there who haven't walked the corridors. So many more to be saved.
At least I could save one.
I rescued a human today.

Editor's Note: This was contributed by Bridget Albert. Janine Allen, a trainer with RescueMeDog in California and Wyoming, has granted permission to share her essay.

Getting by with a little help from a friend

It really is a lot of help from many friends


As it is nearly an official month since this blog was created, it seems as though it is the right time to say the first official 'thank you.'
The thank you goes out to all who have contributed to date to Tesla's Love and to all those who will do so in the future. The assistance that those contributions of beautiful stories has given is immeasurable.
Kiley and I also must thank all those who sent cards and letters as we mourn the loss of Tesla, and while Kiley never saw them, I must also note that the flowers from the dog lovers at Yale-New Haven Hospital really brightened up the office. We also received in the mail a note from Kiley's aunts saying a donation in Tesla's memory had been given to the Humane Society. Tesla would have liked that, as she loved other animals. Kiley's Aunt Gayle also sent a book, which is very touching. My siblings and parents have been a lifeline too.
This blog has been visited by people in 22 nations around the world - according to Google Analytics - and I think that shows the power of the love people everywhere have for pets and all animals. Many people also have joined the Tesla's Love page on Blogger's Network on Facebook and our stories there are consistently voted as popular - a couple of times as most popular.
So, thank you again readers and writers and please keep those stories coming.

Mystery photo

Anyone want to guess who this is?

Be an angel

Homeless Pets and Animal Shelters Get Support from Angel Tree Program

Family pets are the latest victim of the economic downturn. As the economy worsens and more families struggle to make ends meet, Connecticut animal shelters are seeing a huge inflow of pets being given up for adoption.
“Shelters and rescue groups are overwhelmed with the large number of dogs and cats released by people who just can’t afford to care for them,” said Jeremy Moran of Best Friends Pet Care, Bethany. “The shelters simply don’t have enough food or supplies for all these newly homeless pets.”
To help address the shortage, Best Friends is collecting donation of food and supplies through its “Angel Tree” program at all four Connecticut locations. Beneficiaries include Connecticut Humane Society of Newington and Westport, Animal Haven of New Haven, Meriden Humane Society, Pet Protectors of Fairfield, Hotwater Rescue, Double Dog Rescue, Stamford Animal Shelter and PAWS of Norwalk.
Throughout the holiday season, animal lovers can visit any Best Friends to select a card from the Angel Tree and donate the items listed for that homeless dog or cat. Since each shelter has specific needs, donors are asked to shop from the list on the pet’s card. Donations can also be made by phone. Best Friends is at 60 Harris Road, Avon, (860) 673-0555; at 227 Cheshire Road, Bethany, (203) 393-3126; 528 Main Ave., Norwalk (next to DMV), 203-849-1010; and at 1511 Silas Deane Highway, Rocky Hill, (860) 721-8080.

“The holidays are always a difficult time for shelters,” adds Moran. “Donations usual dip during this season, but this year, with all the newly homeless pets, the shortage of food and supplies is becoming a crisis. We are inviting anyone who loves animals to help out by donating to the program.”
For more information, visit http://www.bestfriendspetcare.com/.

Editor's Note: As a service to animals everywhere, Tesla's Love will from time to time post notices of events and efforts to help pets and wildlife. This is one such notice. It is only lightly edited and otherwise is in the words of the contributor.

Help them help

Wags & Whiskers TLC, an animal support group based in West Haven, will have its annual photos with Santa event from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m Dec. 6 at Pet Supplies Plus 471 Boston Post Road, Orange, Conn.
The cost is $7 and canned cat food and refundable cans and bottles will be collected during the event.
The event is open to all pets of every shape and size and "of course children," organizers said. Cookies, cider and coffee will be served. All proceeds will benefit the Wags & Whiskers medical fund. For more information, please call Jim Vitelli at (203) 937-3642 or send an e-mail to: pounddogs@yahoo.com

Running with the big dogs

By Barbara Douglas

Baron Bruno von Barker never passed on a challenge.

He climbed his way up from the bottom, by no means broke integrity, had excellent manners, loved absolutely, fought for what he believed in, had a faithful heart, struggled with illness and didn’t complain, and died bravely.

Can’t wait to see you again, baby.

Bruno - April 1998 - July 2007

Be thou comforted, little dog. Thou too in Resurrection shall have a little golden tail.

- Martin Luther

Editor's Note: Barbara Douglas, author of Satori in the Garden, at http://satoriinthegarden.blogspot.com, is a devoted animal lover, the depth of which only her true friends know.

AN AVERAGE DOG’S TALE

But Kelly had no average tail

By Chip Bennett

This is a story of a very average dog.
Really, I mean it.
Kelly was average. She was not particularly big, but nor was she small. She was not exceedingly loyal, or intuitive, or watchful, or even fast or powerful. She was not an especially good swimmer, nor could she pull a sled, track a criminal, sniff out contraband, or guide the blind.
Kelly could, I suppose, flush out a rabbit, or perhaps a quail…if by flush out one means startle the poor creature, and then give wild chase.
No, Kelly was definitely not the brightest bulb in the dog world…if pressed, I could argue she was pretty, with her long, flowing, silky red hair that glistened in the sun, as she pranced through the meadows…but I won’t even give her that superlative, as I’ve seen many a mongrel, that looked equally good.
But wait, you say, was she a pure-bred? Surely with her family history…her pedigree, her provenance…she must be special. And indeed, Kelly did have good breeding, that is to say, she came from a long line of “special” dogs.
But so do half the dogs in the country, so that, unto itself, makes her, well, rather common. Yes, Kelly, the Irish Setter, if you must know…was average.
But that being said, her story is worth telling.
Now before the reader of this story gets indignant and wonders to themselves why any self-respecting dog lover would ever call their dog average…a sacrilege statement, a mortal sin…an exclamation worthy of excommunication from the Society of Friends of Four-legged Friends. Well, perhaps…perhaps it is…but listen a moment and I’ll tell you why my Kelly was average.
The story will start with a laugh, but if you are not careful, my reader, it will end with a cry. It begins on a lovely, sunny, glorious, lazy summer day in upstate New York. A day not much unlike the day before, but infinitely different from the day that would follow. The day began with a happy-go-lucky setter out with her master for a walk; a long stroll along the banks of Lake Chautauqua.
Kelly was doing her very favorite thing; absolute tops among a long list of her favorite things. She would sprint from one curious smell to the next, only taking the occasional break from her olfactory ecstasy, to chase a flock of ducks off the grass, and into the lake. A cacophony of squawking fowl and beating wings…though probably pure euphony to a canine. And these chases would end almost as suddenly as they began, because, although Kelly wasn’t clever, she was smart enough to know that she couldn’t catch a duck. Not even close. So she would quickly shake off the humiliation of the ducks that had now circled back , landed just off shore, seemingly mocking her for her effrontery.
Kelly didn’t care, she was lost in her fascinating smells again.
And it was after just such a episode, that I met another young dog walker. He was walking his Dachshund nearby, when the sound of the ducks got his attention, and he came over to introduce himself to me, and more to the point, introduce his charge to Kelly. Well, the two dogs seem to get along just fine , which isn’t surprising, as both setters and dachsies are the friendly type. So the four off us continued our walk along the lake, chatting about whatever 12-year-old or so boys chat about while walking their dogs. At some point along our walk, this kid whose dog was not allowed to walk off-leash, mentioned that it would be nice if he could let his dog run around with Kelly for awhile. I thought about this for a moment, and in a flash of inspiration I said to my new friend, “well, why don’t we tie them together, so they can walk each other?”
The boy, whose name I can’t remember, ( in fact, I don’t think we ever even introduced ourselves to each other), thought that my idea sounded brilliant. If not brilliant, at least doable. That is to say, he agreed to the idea.
And it does sound like a no-brainer….you have to admit. Let the dogs walk each other. What could go wrong? So we tied the dogs together with the leash he had been using to walk his dog, and let the dogs “loose” to their thing.
Well, all was fine for all of fifteen seconds.
All was fine until Kelly decided to do exactly her thing. In other words, she bolted after a rabbit. And I do mean bolted. Kelly, if nothing else, was pretty quick. So within a second or two she was bounding along after the rabbit at a good twenty miles an hour. And yes, you guessed it…the Dachshund was just along for the ride. Literally, no exaggeration, the dog was bouncing along, mostly on its back, behind Kelly.
Picture the cowboy that falls off his galloping horse, but gets his foot stuck in the stirrup.
It was something like that. I was mortified. And more than a little worried that the poor Dachshund was going to be injured. There was going to be a lot of “splaining” to do.
And oh, that poor, poor Dachshund.
Well, the Kilkenney sleigh ride was over in about 30 seconds, or so…who remembers exactly how long it lasted, or why Kelly decided to stop running.
Perhaps she eventually realized there was a yelping dog tagging along her heels, or perhaps she just got fatigued. But when the dust finally settled, and the dogs were detangled, the Dachshund simply popped up, shook himself off, was happy as a lark, and no worse for wear. Thank God. Those Dachshunds are one tough, tough breed. But one would expect no less from a breed that was bred for short legs, specifically to chase vicious badgers down their holes. Fearless, and hardy…short in stature, but tall in courage. Dachshunds are not average.
I scolded Kelly and took her home. I may have chuckled once or twice, on the way home, picturing the bouncing brown dog, but I remember I was also quite miffed at her for being so oblivious to the little dog’s welfare. And it was probably because I was cross with Kelly that I did not take her with me that afternoon when I went to my friend’s house to play some basketball. I can’t remember, after all these years, if I had left Kelly in the house…or perhaps Kelly was in the back yard playing with one of my sisters or brothers.
What I do remember, very, very well, is that it was unusual for me to do anything without taking Kelly with me. She was my best friend, and constant companion. Always by my side. She may have “officially” been a family dog, but in reality, she was my dog.
From the time she came home with us as a 7-week-old puppy, she was glued to my heels. And with the exception of school, of course, I took her every where I went.
So it was significant that she wasn’t with me that afternoon. But she eventually did follow me. Somehow she got out of the house, or slipped out of the backyard, saw me across the street, and dashed the few hundred yards in my direction. I remember it like it was yesterday, though it was more than 30 years ago. She never took her eyes off me as she spirited the remaining 50 yards.
She never thought once about checking for traffic on the road that separated our property from my friend’s basketball court. I felt an instant, rising panic as she approached the road. I knew, very well, that cars flew down this road. I knew that something bad was about to happen.
It was one of those moments that you see coming, but you are powerless to do anything about. Your life is changed in the blink of an eye.
And so it was. The car that hit Kelly didn’t even have time to hit the brakes. I heard no squeal of tires, I only heard the sickening thud of a dog against metal. My dog…my best friend. I’m sure I reached Kelly where she lay on the other side of the road within a matter of 5 or 6 seconds. She was still alive. I cradled her in my lap and tried to comfort her.
It was the worse few moments of my life. Kelly just looked at me with love in her eyes.
There was no panic in her gaze…there was no blame. There was just love. And as I stroked her, I told her she was the best dog in the world.
She gave me a final wag of her tail and died in my arms.
I learned a lot of life’s important lessons that day. I learned that life is not always fair. I learned that it can change in the blink of an eye.
But mostly, with regard to dogs, our most beloved friends and companions…I learned that there is no such thing as an average dog , when it comes the place that they hold in your heart.
Those who love dogs will know…there is more meaning in the wag of an average dog’s tail than in just about anything else one can think of.

Editor's note: Chip Bennett wrote for Tesla's Love from his Rhode Island home, where Cassie and Trixie are now the holders of that place in his heart.

These critters connected

Cuddle up for this one:

Saturdays are always quite busy at "The Critter Connection," but a recent Saturday was much busier than usual.




This photo shows two females that recently arrived at The Critter Connection as part of the rescue of eleven guinea pigs from a roadside zoo in western New York State.



Cindy Kuester, president and head critter wrangler of the guinea pig rescue based in Durham, recently had her hands full, literally. There were cages to clean and guinea pigs to cuddle. Adopters arrived to pick up and bring home five pigs.
Meanwhile, Cindy's husband William drove to New York. His mission: to complete the rescue of 11 guinea pigs saved when a roadside zoo in western New York closed its doors and auctioned off its "inventory."
Cindy has been through similar rescues before, and she was prepared for anything. She alerted Pieper-Olson Veterinary Hospital in Middletown. Just in case, Cindy and the vets were ready to treat respiratory illness, hair loss resulting from mites, foot blisters from being kept on wire-bottomed cages, and pregnant females. This time, they were lucky. The guinea pigs were in very good shape, and only one of them needed to see a doctor. However, since pigs of both sexes had been kept together at the zoo in a single cage, the five females will be kept on pregnancy watch. Some of the males will be ready for adoption soon. In the meantime, Cindy and her foster families will make the newcomers welcome. The pigs will enjoy spacious cages with room to run, plenty of timothy hay, pellets, and fresh vegetables and fruits.
"Boy, do they eat," Cindy reports. "I've been spacing out their feedings so they don't overeat."
They will get regular lap time to help them become socialized for their eventual homes.
"A few are skittish but settle in quickly for a snuggle," says Cindy.
It will also give the rescuers a chance to observe their individual personalities for making the best matches, between guinea pigs and other guinea pigs, and between guinea pigs and humans.
The Critter Connection, Inc., is a non-profit group dedicated to the rescue and rehabilitation of abandoned and neglected guinea pigs. Since 2004 the rescue has placed more than 600 abandoned guinea pigs into new homes.
For more information, including how to help and how to adopt, visit http://www.ctguineapigrescue.org/, or write to The Critter Connection, Inc., P.O. Box 371, Durham, CT 06422.



Editor's note: This story was submitted by Ellen Falbowski, efalbowski@comcast.net

The story of Shelby grows

By Jon Bennett

Now where were we? Oh, yes, like I was saying, Shelby and I liked to sleep on the couch. She would lay on my chest until I started tossing and turning, then she would move down to my feet.

After a while my feet would get uncomfortable so I would wiggle them to get her off, but she is stubborn, so it took awhile.

Then in the morning I would wake up and get ready for work, though she likes to sleep in. I would give her a bone and make sure she has water and would put her on her run give her a kiss and go to work.
Then came the new additions…..
I was out in the neighborhood and I met a wonderful, beautiful woman. Her name is Heather. We feel in love immediately, we soon moved in together along with, Zack, her son and her two daughters, Kasey and Dakota.

And I can’t forget to mention my new other four legged best friend, Cisco, a Chesapeake Bay Yellow Lab. He is a big boy, about 120 pounds.

We hit it off right away, but Shelby was jealous. It took time and now they are like boyfriend and girlfriend, always playing and loving each other.

Cisco really took to me and follows me around everywhere. He is so smart that he tries to play dumb, just so he can get away with things. He is always stealing the neighbor’s dog toys. We must have 18 tennis balls in the yard and I didn’t buy any of them. When I am mowing the lawn I pick them up and throw them back, but he always finds them.

He is a big goofy baby and I love him so much. He is a big part of our home.
I could write so much more, so maybe you’ll hear from me again!.

Enough love for seven siblings and mom and dad

By Ralph Villers


Boris was the first pet the seven of us kids had.
My father brought him home one day in 1966, an unexpected furry puppy treat for the kids. My mom probably asked the obvious question: “Just who is going to take care of this dog?” Not to worry, she loved him too.
A Collie-Shepherd mix, he was so handsome in his predominant chestnut brown. And so friendly! When anyone came home, he would wag his tail furiously and offer you a gift – anything he could pick up at the spur of the moment as an offering. And he loved to ride in my father’s VW Microbus. You could not say the word, but had to spell C-A-R in any conversation within earshot. He also knew the term for animal doctor. You had to say V-E-T.
He could get lost easily, so in 1967, we had a 5-foot fence installed. Dad always mentioned that our free dog cost $750 (over $4,000 today per the CPI). But the fence was needed when we got a pool later. He got out one day, and my mother told Maggie (a later free dog) to “Go get Boris”. And about a half hour later, the two dogs returned. Cool.
Boris passed in 1980 of old age. A nice, furry friend. I don’t have many pictures, so I am using two that I could find, and you can see his good looks.
The first one in 1968, including myself, brother Chris and sister Vicki. The other around Christmas 1975 or 76. If he looks like he was smiling…no doubt he was!
The first Boris was when we were babies in Brigantine, NJ. A Chesapeake Retriever I was told, seen with my dad in 1954. When we moved to NYC, they gave him to people who had a farm, I think. A dog’s life, for sure!





Editor's Note: This post by Ralph Villers was originally posted on his blog Airhead 55.

Benjie Flunked the Course but Passed the Test

By Manny Strumpf

Benjie is a six-year-old golden retriever.
He was born on New Year’s Day. His mother was a guide dog and his father was trained to be used by law enforcement to sniff out drugs. It was only natural, therefore, that their offspring would follow in their footsteps and he was enrolled in a training program for guide dogs in Dutchess County, NY.
Benjie flunked out.
He was afraid of loud noises. That certainly would not do for a canine whose responsibility would be a sightless human being 24 hours a day. The agency that trained him, therefore, put him up for adoption. Since a young couple from Poughkeepsie, NY had applied to adopt a flunkie, they were called and immediately fell in love with Benjie. They took him home for their young son.
Benjie quickly became a winner. He won over individuals who previously had a professed fear of animals. He won over his family’s friends and their son’s Little League team who, after each game, would play with him, let him run loose in the enclosed ball field until he was exhausted and then return to the loving hugs of his master and the rest of the team.
Benjie also won over everyone who met him. He would bring an old shoe to a stranger in order to coax him to play with him, and when it was time to do his thing, he never failed to find his leash, even in a dark room, so that he could fetch one of the members of the family to take him for a walk.
His favorite pastime? Playing with children and adults. When his new family was away at work or at school, he contented himself to lie on an old sofa and watch the TV that had been left on to amuse him, knowing that his family would be home soon to enjoy his company. His tail, always wagging, would be there to greet them.
Benjie is slowing down. He is happy now to walk rather than running loose on the ball field near the family home. He realizes that his master is about to leave for college and although he senses impending separation, he’s secure and he’s content. The late and great sports writer Grantland Rice must have had Benjie in mind when he wrote in one of his columns that: When the One Great Scorer comes to mark against your name, He marks not that you won or lost, but how you played the game.
No doubt Benjie would have been a wonderful guide dog. He lost the chance to help an individual find his or her own way. But he found a home, a loving family to adore him and play with him and tend to his needs. By any standards, this flunkie from guide dog school is a hero, a friend, and a loving companion to a fine family, to kids of all ages who enjoy playing with him, and to an extended family in Connecticut, New York and New Jersey, who can’t wait for him to pay them a visit.
I know Benjie personally. He’s my grandson’s best friend.

Editor's note: Manny Strumpf of Milford is the author of several books, including "Murder at the Statue of Liberty."

Good advice

A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS.........

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.
4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.
5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.
6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.
7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.
8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.
9. Please take care of me when I grow old.. You too, will grow old.
10. On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone.
Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

Editor's note: Provided by Bridget Albert, author unknown

A member of the family

By Maureen Green

I have wanted a Bernese Mountain dog since the very first time that I saw one, and that was 10 years ago.
But the cost prevented me from getting one.
Since then, I have adopted adult dogs that need a home but they all came with their own unique set of issues that I could not solve despite hard work.

We had, for instance, a male black lab, Bear, and a female black lab, Bailey.
They were both good dogs and loving pets but things changed for Bear when our son, Jack, was born. The dog suddenly seemed anxious and a bit more excitable. Bailey on the other hand became nurturing toward the baby. On one occasion when we put Jack on the floor to be photographed with the dogs, Bear would have nothing to do with it and Bailey lay on her side and slithered over to Jack as if to nurse him! She remained affectionate toward Jack and allowed him to crawl on her and let him pull on her to lift himself up as a toddler.
But we had to find Bear a new home because he attacked Jack and bit him in the face. It was a shock because Jack was on the other side of the room from Bear and did not provoke the dog. I think that the dog was jealous because Bailey turned her attention from him to the baby. But soon after Bear left, Bailey became withdrawn and started to whine and howl. Jack also became afraid of her so we thought it best to find her another home too.
Last year, when our family was dealing with many hardships, I thought 'no better time than now' to get another puppy! I also was convinced that a Bernese Mountain dog would be the only breed to lift our spirits.

I searched and searched and was blessed the day I met a breeder from Boulder with a litter of pups she was offering at an affordable price.

That is when I got Kernan Von Bruno. Even his name has a story. It had to have meaning and it had to be Swiss like him. My brother Chip told me about a Swiss skier named Bruno Kernan who won the world championship in 1997 and he went on to tell me that Bruno Kernan’s cousin also named Bruno Kernan skied with Chip in Austria.

Hey, I skied there too, so it was decided we would not call him Bruno, but Kernan, and make it fancy smancy with Von Bruno!
He was so very perfect that I had to convince Helen to get one too. She agreed and we picked up Tesla and brought her home with us until we flew her to Helen in Connecticut.

It was great to be able to share stories of about our magnificent dogs. Each was perfect for our respective families.

We had more than a year of sharing until Tesla died.

I grieved with my sister and cried for Tesla but Helen explained to me what love for a dog is and told me how Tesla had truly benefited her family.
Kernan is now 18 months and full of love for every one. He is big and beautiful but he acts like he can still fit in my lap.

He has truly filled my ‘dog void’ and made himself a natural part of our whole family. The curmudgeon husband Todd even loves him! He is my full time training partner and encourages me to get out and run even on the coldest days. He is always willing to pull me up the hills too.

This year he has a real dog sledding harness and Jack is looking forward to having Kernan help him get up the hills as well!
Kernan loves us all but seems to heed to me best and Jack wanted a dog of his own so he recently got Karbon, a 12-week-old black Labrador.

Well Kernan has made it obvious to all of us that he is the one responsible for Karbon’s training.

Kernan blocks the pup’s access to the road and herds him back into the yard a safe distance from harm.

We have also heard Kernan remonstrating when the little pup attempts any behavior, that Kernan regards as unacceptable: thank goodness like doing his toileting business in the house! I have even seen Kernan put himself in the way of Ice, the cat, to protect the pup from Ice’s bullying.
I am not able to describe the love and loyalty that we have in our family since Kernan came into our lives. I can say though that this dog is the pet of all my dreams.

A $5 dog who was one in a million

By Mia M. Malafronte

I was searching through my old photos yesterday, looking for some pictures I had taken of my daughter, Nina, a few years ago, when I pulled out a roll of film I hadn't seen in quite some time.

It contained pictures of my son, Luigi, when he was just 2.

As I looked over the images, smiling at how cute he was as a baby, I came across a photo I hadn't remembered taking. It was Luigi with our old family dog, Ripp.

I felt the lump in my throat as I let the memory of a pet I hadn't seen in almost five years carry me away.

It's amazing how much a person's life can change in just five years.

And this one photo was breaking my heart as I thought about the puppy I brought home for my new husband back in 1996.

We called Ripp the $5.00 dog.


I adopted him from the Shelton pound while out on assignment one day. He was only 3 months old and just the cutest thing I had ever seen.

They charged me a $5.00 adoption fee. Ripp was about the best dog you could ask for. He was happy, loyal, protective, didn't bark too much, and LOVED children.

As years passed, Ripp saw the good, the bad and the ugly in our marriage. He heard the fighting, he licked the tears from my eyes, and sat beside me during some very dark hours. When my husband and I decided to split, he took Ripp with him.

I was sad, but I knew how much that dog meant to him. After all, he was his, a gift from me. I knew he would take good care of him.

Then, one April day in 2004, while out with friends at a Yankee game, I got a call from my ex-husband. I let it go to voice mail, thinking I wasn't going to let him ruin my fun with the usual banter I was accustomed to hearing.

I decided to listen to the voice mail as we were leaving the game.

I was not prepared for the message I was about to hear. My ex was barely audible, and his voice cracked as he told me there had been a terrible accident.

While checking on his family's summer beach house with the kids and the dog, Ripp drank anti freeze from the winterized toilet bowl. No one saw him. No one stopped him. They didn't realize what had happened until a few hours later. It was fast and ugly. He had to be put down the next morning.

He was only 8 and I never had the chance to say goodbye.This picture brings a bit of sadness as I remember a happier place and what seemed like carefree times. but the joy that Ripp brought to those who loved him, makes me thankful we were even able to know him.


Mia M. Malafronte, who is a professional photographer, can be reached at: http://www.miamalafronte.com/

Maggie is smarter than you think

This is a very cute column. The link was sent to me by Mark D'Antonio, who has promised a story for Tesla's Love, so stay tuned.

Maggie.com

From cow pony to polo pony

By Joan Bennett, of Westbrook



Dogs no doubt are man's best friend but we must not forget the magnificent animal, the horse.

I'm sure over the centuries, to many men and women, the horse was just as important and loved as the dog. Bred and raised for work and for pleasure, this awesome animal fulfilled its roll until today, where in most countries the horse is used for sporting events or pleasure.

Yet, in my childhood and teen years I was very close to all manner of horses as my father owned a riding and polo stable on Long Island.

Since this was the livelihood for the family we were not to consider the many horses as pets.

But who could help but to fall in love with at least one of these equine creatures. My favorite pony was Indian Girl. She came from out west, where she had been trained as a cow pony.

My Dad bought her to use as a polo pony. He trained her, which was easy, as cow ponies made excellent polo ponies.

Indian Girl was a paint and she stood out on the polo field. She handled so well I used to love to be on her back when as kids my friends and sisters, Dorothy and Elaine, could play a game ourselves.

I hated to see her ridden by anyone else. But on Sundays at an official game if not my father on her back, whom I trusted, it was another player who might not have the love of horses so important for their welfare.

So as it was one Sunday afternoon during a fast-paced and dangerous game down went Indian Girl, as my sisters and I watched. Others would not let us on the field as the Girl was badly injured.

We screamed and cried from the sidelines.

A police officer was called and while I closed my eyes Indian Girl's life was taken with a loud shot.

Having witnessed the Girl's agony trying to stay standing, I knew that had to be the way, but the feeling of loss was enormous.

I will never be able to erase that day from my mind even though I went on to love other horses in my life.

Editor's note: Shown at right in the photo is Joan Scanlon Bennett's dad, Walter Scanlon, atop the Brown Bomber during a match at Bethpage polo grounds

Dear God from the Dog

Sent in by a friend of Tesla's Love

Dear God: Is it on purpose our names are the same, only reversed?

Dear God: Why do humans smell the flowers, but seldom, if ever, smell one another?

Dear God: When we get to heaven, can we sit on your couch? Or is it still the same old story?

Dear God: Why are there cars named after the jaguar, the cougar, the mustang, the colt, the stingray, and the rabbit, but not ONE named for a Dog? How often do you see a cougar riding around? We do love a nice ride! Would it be so hard to rename the 'Chrysler Eagle' the ' Chrysler Beagle' or the 'Dodge Ram' the 'Dodge Great Dane'?

Dear God: If a Dog barks his head off in the forest and no human hears him, is he still a bad Dog?

Dear God: We Dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent ID's, electromagnetic energy fields, and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?

Dear God: More meatballs, less spaghetti, please.

Dear God: Are there mail carriers in Heaven? If there are, will I have to apologize?

Dear God: Let me give you a list of just some of the things I must remember to be a good Dog.

1. I will not eat the cats' food before they eat it or after they throw it up.
2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.
3. The Litter Box is not a cookie jar.
4. The sofa is not a 'face towel'.
5. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.
6. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad's underwear when he's on the toilet. 7. Sticking my nose into someone's crotch is an unacceptable way of saying 'hello'.
8. I don't need to suddenly stand straight up when I'm under the coffee table . 9. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house - not after.
10. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt.
11. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch.
12. The cat is not a 'squeaky toy' so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it's usually not a good thing.
P.S. Dear God: When I get to Heaven may I have my testicles back?

'Until one has loved an animal, part of their soul remains unawakened'

Author unknown

Dixie lives on in dreams and hearts

By Amanda Pinto

A few months ago, when I doggie-sat for my parents in the house where I grew up, it was my responsibility to crawl out of bed at 7:30, open the slider, call the dogs, and let them outside for their morning pee.
“Abbie, Dixie!” I called, as I waited for the dogs to run toward the door.
It was only when I got back in bed that I realized I’d been calling a dog that has been dead for five years.
Dixie was a sandy-colored shepherd mix who I always thought looked sort of like a dingo. She was my aunt’s dog originally, but I still got to name her … sort of.
At 6, I was into fairy princesses, and when my cousins got a dog, I suggested she be named ‘Pixie.’ My aunt “misheard” my request, (or, as she told me later, thought Dixie was a name she’d be less embarrassed to holler after the puppy), and so Dixie was named. She felt like my dog. When her rambunctious-puppy-personality clashed with the much older dog she shared a house with, my aunt gave Dixie to us. And then we grew up together.
I remember chasing her around the yard and incorporating her into the games I’d play with my friends in the neighborhood. She could chew gum, we discovered by accident, and she could run—FAST. The knowledge that she’d bark at anything that came into our yard as we slept made me feel comforted and protected.
And she was an expert cuddler. I remember, as a teenager, after a bad night or before a hard day ahead, not wanting to wake my parents and crying into her back, arms wrapped around her body. She would stay with me as long as I needed her. I can’t remember what the tears were about but I remember who stopped them. And I remember her fur against my face. And the sound her chain collar made when she ran toward me.
Dixie wasn’t perfect. She was always skittish, couldn’t be trained to fetch a stick or a ball. Given the opportunity, she’d run away, leading us to chase her by car, as she zigzagged across roads, or galloped through the woods toward other dogs, in other neighborhoods. Or leading us to sit and wait. When this happened, I’d take a piece of her hard dog food and put it on my desk in my room. Holding it while I wished and prayed for her safe return.
When arthritis made her life unbearable, my mom made the difficult decision to put Dixie to sleep. I was in college. No one wanted to tell me, or knew how to. I remember how hard it was to take when they did.
Soon after Dixie’s death, my parents got a puppy; he’s a five-year-old dog now. Abbie, who was Dixie’s sidekick, her puppy tag-along, is 10. After I heard about Tesla’s death, I thought a lot about Dixie. I dreamt I walked into my parents’ house, and there she was in the living room where she always slept, frolicking toward me. In the dream, she left in a flash, and I was the only one who saw her.
I woke knowing that even though she’s gone, she will still come when I call her.
I hope those of you who loved Tesla find the same to be true.

Humphrey was the man

By Ralph Villers

We lost Sir Humphrey today. It was sudden, and it was quick. Just like that, the furry member of our family was gone, at the young cat age of 9.

Humphrey looked very much like a Maine Coon, although at 12 pounds, he was considerably smaller than average for that breed. For a mutt, he sure was a pretty animal. You saw the gray right away, but in the natural light, a lot of brown showed as well.

He was well behaved. Of course, I referred to him as ‘Felinus Obnoxious', which is a term of endearment in my offbeat way. He could use any of his cat weapons to get what he wanted: First, he would rub his jowls against corners, then a cute chirp, then a fake purr, and then, as a last resort he would insist, an loud ME-OW! But this was no worse than a small child who was not able to open the refrigerator door requesting the same.

I had fun replacing the name ‘Humphrey’ in the lyrics of songs, which the other humans in the house found extremely strange. You might too, but Hump offered no opinion either way. One example is The Commodores Brick House:“Humphrey’s a Grayyy Cat He’s Mighty, Mighty,Just Letting it all Hang Out” I had more, but you get the idea.

I think that the idea that a cat is useless is wrong. Sure they lie around, but Hump really liked to have his belly rubbed. His fur underneath was luxuriously nubby and thick Maine Coon style. You know, an animal in the wild would never expose themselves in this way, but it is a trusting cat (or dog) that would allow a family member to skritch away. Actually, it was therapeutic for the human as well.

Finally, he liked to hang around the family, sitting on the hope chest in the dining room when we ate dinner. Not just for table food, but he liked to be with the family. He was a jealous cat in that he probably wouldn't tolerate another cat in the house to get the affections he felt were rightly his!

In the picture shown, he is relaxed and has the look that might have said, “I’m comfortable here on the bed, and very content. How’s your day?”

Editor's note: This story was originally posted on Ralph Viller's blog after his family lost the amazing Humphrey in 2007. Ralph's blog is at: http://airhead55-ralph.blogspot.com/

A little dog with a very big heart

By Jon Bennett

I have been living with my dog Shelby for quite awhile. She is a mixed mutt - lab, terrier, and Pit Bull - I'm pretty sure. She is a little dog completely black with one tiny white spot in the middle of her chest.

She may be little but she is all muscle, very very strong. When I take her for walks she pulls so hard sniffing everything. If she sees another animal, especially a cat or squirrel, forget about it, she wants to rip my arm off. I am trying to break her of that, but it's her instincts.

She also loves to go for rides and stick her head out of the window, but you can't open it too far because if she sees a cat she will try to jump out, even if we are going down the road. She is very smart and I have taught her a lot of tricks. She can dance on her hind legs, sit, shake hands, lay down, speak, fetch and catch a Frisbee in the air. She also loves to play tug-of-war.

We lived by ourselves for a long time, so we spent a lot of time together. When I was at work she would stay on her run in the back yard. She has to stay there because she likes to run the neighborhood and I don't want her to get hit by a car. All my neighbors know her so when she gets loose they will put her back on her run for me. I built her the best dog house on the lake. It is insulated and vinyl sided. She also has a heated water dish so her water will not freeze in the winter.

Even though we live on a lake she is not too fond of the water. When we take a walk to the beach she will only go in up to her belly. When it was time for bed, she would sleep with me on the couch every night. That is, until we got some new additions to our family.

To be continued, watch for it.

Cisco's devotion is boundless

By Heather, of Ashford, Conn.

My dog is so very special to me and he has been the constant in my life as he has always been by my side.
I am sure anyone who has loved a pet like we have knows the deep love shared between us and them ....unconditional love.
Jon and my dog Cisco have developed a strong bond. Cisco follows Jon all over the house and is by his side every moment. I am now chopped liver - LOL
At night when its time to go to bed we call the dogs up. If I happen to go up first, Cisco just looks at me but as soon as Jon gets up Cisco is right by his side following him up to bed.
The love we all share is amazing.
The part that touched my heart was the day Jon went to the hospital... Jon was laying on the floor in pain, Jon's head was rested on my lap and Cisco was on the floor right beside us he would not leave Jon's side with his head rested on Jon's chest frequently licking his face... I could tell he sensed his pain.
He is a devoted dog and he loves Jon just as much as I do. Of course I can not forget Miss Shelby she is our little lady we love her dearly, too.
She is a young one, still wild and free; Cisco a little wiser in his old age.


Editor's note: Heather writes here about her two dogs, Cisco and Shelby, and a recent illness of her significant other, Jon, who is now recovered.

Sing a song for Gremlin and Shaggy

By Daithi Jane Houlihan Borges

The Hail to Gremlin and Shaggy Song (say aloud phonetically at a good clip)
It goes like a camp song that The Houlihan Family Singers sing. So say this aloud- it's fun.

"SHY-KNEE I-KNEE I-KNEE I-KNEE ish me quook me kwIum me kwIum (These
lines sung in unison)
SHY-KNEE I-KNEE I-KNEE I-KNEE ish me quook me kwIum me kwIum
Oh Nicodaymo Oh SHY-KNEE I-KNEE Oompah
Oh Nicodaymo Oh SHY-KNEE I-KNEE
Oompah Oompah Oompah Oompah (This line 1/2 the group carries the repeated low percussion Oompahs)
Killy Killy Killy Killy Wash Wash Wash Wash Key-ya Key-ya Cow-wha
(These lines the other 1/2 of group sings these)
Killy Killy Killy Killy Wash Wash Wash Wash Key-ya Key-ya Cow-wha
Oh hail to our Indian dogs -Oh hail to Gremlin and Shaggy."(This line
-Oompahs stop- whole group sings w/vigor in unison)

This song is passed down in our family through oral tradition. It is about two dogs I never even knew! I love that it is a family heritage song. I love the rhythm, the fake language, the camp feel, the German Oompahs, the regal-ish Nicodaymo Latin reference and the association of these dogs as close to nature, regal Indian dogs being hailed to all eternity. I am very sure we will teach this song to Shawn & Kate's little girl, along with a Norwegian bounce the baby on the knee song, Irish American favorite tunes and family fave camp songs. We will pass this family song on because these dogs were part of our family and therefore should be revered as part of our family history.

So that's our family dog song written either by my Grandpa or Dad preserved for posterity and shared in Tesla's Love.

Editor's Note: Daithi says she grew up singing a FAMILY DOG SONG about these two dogs she only knew from stories, photos and home movies. Her family song sung about these animals is really cute, she says. In Winchester. Conn., there is a field marker to Gremlin.

Puppy Love

We at Tesla's Love do not know where this came from, but if you love puppies, prepare to be addicted. Enjoy!


http://cdn1.ustream.tv/swf/4/viewer.45.swf?cid=317016

Crickett liked being a queen

By John Burroughs

Our beloved eighteen-year old cat Crickett passed away in August 2007. She's the black beauty on my lap in this picture taken in late 2004 (her Russian Blue partner is Ballou).

I wanted to write a long, interesting, and even humorous tribute to her. Maybe that will come in the future. But somehow, I don't think my emotions will allow it now.

So forgive me for just rambling a bit. Anyone who knows us knows that our pets are our family. It might sound funny to some people, but it's a fact. I am "Dad" to them, my wife is "Mom," my brother is their "Uncle Mike" and my mom is their "Grandma."

The way I talk to our pets (even try to reason with them) as though they're human beings is a source of great amusement to many who know me in person. Well, in addition to being the oldest of our pets, Crickett was the smartest and most "human." I daresay she's also been the most indispensable.

And only a week ago she seemed so spry.

Talk about a lesson in impermanence. Despite our best efforts and strongest wishes, she is gone. But then again, she's not really gone.

When it became obvious that she was going, I sat on the floor beside her and told her that no matter where she or we would eventually go, she would always dwell in our home and in our hearts. She is, and will forever be, the queen of our house.

Crickett liked being a queen. Other cats came and went and she treated them all with a royal disdain. She knew better than any of us that she was no ordinary cat. The full moon is shining through my window as I write this. Coincidence or not, it's interesting and appropriate that our extraordinary black cat waited till the evening of the full moon to leave this mortal existence.

I like to fantasize that she did so intentionally, so she could magically reincarnate into a beautiful Wiccan writer, the next Starhawk or something. Maybe we'll meet her twenty-some years from now at a bookstore - a stunningly beautiful young lady with long raven tresses and wearing a pentacle.

"Hello, my name's Crickett," she'd say from behind a stack of her books. "I'd be happy to sign that for you."

Ah, my dear Crickett. You've already left your signature with us, in places you neither see nor remember - places we can never forget.

John Burroughs is the author of http://crisisblog.crisischronicles.com/ and much more. His Web site is: www.crisischronicles.com. This was originally written by him and posted in 2007.

Buffy the Rodent Slayer

By Michelle Tuccitto Sullo, of Bristol, Conn.


When I went to the animal shelter to find a new kitten, I was mourning the recent loss of my elderly cat named Ashley.
I arrived at the Connecticut Humane Society in Newington, but they didn’t have any kittens available, only adult cats. I looked at the animals ready to be adopted, and a fluffy one caught my eye.
This cat had tiger-like markings. She was black and brown and fluffy, with bright green eyes, and was part Maine Coon. When we took her into an adoption room, the adoption worker said it was the first time she had ever heard the cat purring. I was a big fan of the hit television show, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” so I named my new cat “Buffy the Rodent Slayer.”
It took a long time to win her over – she was shy after living in the shelter for about a month.
But soon Buffy opened up, running around the house and playing with her toys. She loved to climb under the covers to snuggle. Buffy lived with me when I owned a condominium in Guilford.
We later moved to Ansonia, where Buffy had to try to learn to get along with my new husband’s two cats.
We eventually moved to our current home. With our new house on a cul-de-sac, I thought Buffy would be safe outside, as there is hardly any traffic. She loved going outside, but she had to stay indoors at the Ansonia house, as we had lived on a busy street.
So she went outside in Bristol, and would lounge in the sun. She loved to hang out by the bird feeders, watching the birds and the chipmunks. She would come inside when I called her.

When I was pregnant, Buffy just disappeared one day. We called for her, and she never came. I searched the yard and the woods, and visited neighbors, asking if anyone had seen her. We even posted signs with her picture, hoping she would be found.
I remained hopeful for weeks, even months. Every time I heard a sound near the back door, I’d run to look to see if she came back. People shared stories of cats that showed up months after disappearing.
I hoped that maybe she had survived outside, and would live up to her tough namesake.
I feared the worst.
She had been treated for worms recently, but appeared to be fine. I also worried that she was the victim of a predator.

It has been over a year now since I last saw her. My only hope is that I’ll see all of my pets someday – including Cowwie, my dog when I was a child; Ashley, my cat that acted like a dog and went on walks with me; and Buffy, skittish and shy; on the Rainbow Bridge.

Divine canine inspiration

By Karen Petit, Columbia, South Carolina

In 2003, my life was in shambles.

I had been through a terrible divorce between 2001 and 2002 after a marriage that included domestic abuse. As if that weren’t enough, my mother was dying and my sister had suffered a breakdown.

Through a fluke – which I now see as fate – I adopted a dog named Ivy from friends who were moving. Filled with doubts about the furry Lab-Chow mix that I was bringing into my home, I thought that I was doing Ivy a favor. But it was Ivy who changed my life.

Ivy rescued me by simply being herself, a dog.

Her constant presence, her sweetness and devotion healed my heart. Within a month of adopting Ivy, she inspired me to write a children’s mystery series which now comprises three books, with a fourth to be published in February 2009. The Shandon’s Ivy League Mystery Series follows the adventures of a group of pets who solve crimes and mysteries.

No one knows how many tears that beautiful black fur held. Ivy had become companion, muse, cardiologist, and partner in crime, so speak.

So when the news came in early May that Ivy was dying from an inoperable tumor, no one was more shocked than I that I would be losing my Ivy Girl. She died May 31, and I was devastated. The woman who had been an “unpet” person for most of her life had been transformed through the love of a dog.

Ivy’s death came right before the publication of “A Paw on My Heart … A Tail of Divine and Canine Inspiration.” I felt driven to write the book – to chronicle the pain of domestic abuse and to share the amazing healing power of pets. I will never be the same because of Ivy.

These words from my book sum up the way that I feel about my life with Ivy:

“Our story began with a woman in despair and ended with a life transformed by the love of a dog. As remarkable as I believe our love story to be, I know that similar stories are being played out day after day, year after year, on life’s expansive stage among children and adults, the poor and the rich, the meek and the mighty, and the sick and most humble of all. As long as there are dogs, we will never be without true love. Unconditional. Sometimes sloppy kisses. Hugs and pats 24/7.

“What miracles they are—these paws on our hearts!”

Tesla’s paws on the hearts of each member of her family will be there forever. Though her life was much too short, her family’s life was transformed by her love – the amazing love of a dog.

I know that I will see Ivy again one day. And when I do, I’ll give her the biggest hug in Heaven!