The Big Ragu

The first time I noticed it was last summer when my last remaining aunt passed away five days after leaving a party at my apartment. All my aunt had talked about was meeting Carmine and then after she did, she went into the hospital that night and passed away five days later. When I got home after receiving the news from my cousin, I cried when I saw Carmine because I was thinking how much it meant to her to have met him.  As I cried, Carmine licked my face. I thought nothing of it.

Earlier in the year my long-term relationship had ended so when the occasional bouts of tears would come, Carmine would lick my face. Regardless of where he was in my apartment or what he was doing, he would come over to me and lick my face. If I stubbed my toe so hard that tears came to my eyes…..Carmine would lick my face. 

I started to pay attention. And I noticed that as he matured, he was even more attentive to me and my emotions. Even if he was passed out snoozing and he heard a slight whimper coming from me, he would get up and stick his head into me nose first as if to say “Chin up like this Ma.” The consistency of his reaction fascinated me and still does.

So whether I cry over a death, a stubbed toe, a memory of times passed, or a line so funny that it brings tears to my eyes, Carmine is there to dry my tears.  Last week I had laryngitis caused by a dry hacking cough.  At first, the sound of my voice made Carmine look at me with his head cocking from side to side. After about three days of coughing, I got one of those horrible tickles and started hacking. Carmine woke up from his side of the couch and started to lick my face just like he did when I cried.  As the severity of the cough worsened, so did Carmine’s licking again as if to say “Feel better Ma!!”

So I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s finally getting in tune with me.  And going back to a blog from last summer where I wondered if he would protect me if I was in danger:  I think I now know the answer.
 

I am angry.  I’m told I’m being unfair; I don’t know what I’m talking about; others have
done worse in professional sports and still continue to play (Stallworth); etc etc. I’m talking about Michael Vick’s return to the NFL. He doesn’t deserve to return to a position that children idolize. I’m told he’s remorseful (although I didn’t see any remorse in his press conference); yes he’s remorseful because he got caught!! He says he cried every night in jail. Yes, because he realized how many millions he lost and he was now bankrupt. He claims he was naïve and he was wrong…..for SIX YEARS???

Michael Vick’s kennel began back in 2001 and he was caught in 2007.  Tell me he didn’t know what was going on on his property?  He had no idea where his money was going for all those years? Please.

I’m sorry but I do NOT believe 18 months in federal prison and TWO appearances with the Humane Society has reformed Michael Vick.  Yes this is America and everyone deserves a second chance.  And what about the dogs that were hanged or electrocuted because they didn’t win a fight??  What about their second chance??  Thankfully Best Friends has rehabilitated and successfully adopted out a good portion of the Vick dogs. But that has nothing to do with him.  In the meantime, the Eagles have taken him on for possibly two years at a salary of $6.8 million. (And let’s not forget Pete Rose was BANNED from baseball for gambling.)

I adore Wayne Pacelle from the Humane Society but it bothers me that he believes Vick has changed. If Pacelle gets Vick out in the community on a weekly basis and talks to kids in schools about dog fighting, then maybe I’ll believe that there is a positive aspect to this whole debacle.  But in the meantime, as a viewer wrote in to a local TV show I hosted:
“Michael Vick is a friend to dogs as Colonel Sanders is a friend to chickens.”

Exactly.
 

“Wow, he’s a good boy; he walks without pulling.”  “Does he have Mastiff in him?” How do you keep a dog in an apt?  I have a Great Dane but I have a house in Greenwich.”  “Oh My God he sits just like a bulldog!”

These were the different comments I got yesterday as I walking Carmine.  I always have him Sit and Stay at corners so it invites comments.

I’m happy to say that he has been walking nicely, and reading Jolanta’s advice in this week’s Ask the Trainer section makes me realize I’m doing something right! When Carmine gets stubborn, I turn and go in the other direction and the boy is happy to just follow. Although I’m not taking it for granted because he does regress sometimes.

I also realized that when he does a “lay down,” I have to keep people away from him; the attention he gets keeps him on the ground and not walking.  For some stupid reason, people’s reaction is to laugh when they see him lie down although I’m not sure what is humorous about it. And I notice he does it if there’s a mass of people around. If I do wait it out too long, it attracts too much attention so I sometimes turn to him and say “Get up!”……and he does. Not sure what that’s about but it is what it is and it works.

So I’m hopeful that Carmine’s lay-downs are becoming a thing of the past. Even my dog walker said he’s been having great walks so we shall see.  My fingers are crossed.

Here’s a funny incident that I thought you’d enjoy:  The other day we were walking home from daycare and Carmine squatted in the middle of the street. What can you do? When a dog has to go, it has to go. So I blocked him with my body so any cars turning onto that street would see me and not hit him. I waved two cars around us. When he was done and I was about to pick up his poop, a Mercedes started to turn onto the street and although I waved him on, the driver ignored me.

So guess what happened? His back tire ran right across the fresh poop causing me to laugh out loud!  I tried to warn him but he couldn’t be bothered.

I guess he saved me a bag for the next pick-up.  I just hope he doesn’t live in a house with a garage, LOL.

I bet you have a funny poop story! Please share it with me here.
 

I apologize again for lack of a blog: A 1.5 year-old dog takes a lot of time and energy . . . or maybe it’s just Carmine.

I guess it all started last week when Carmine decided that walking wasn’t for him — this just days after we were doing so well and had increased our walks to two miles. He suddenly decided the Bulldog in him was dominant, and he started lying down during walks (like he did when he was much younger). Anywhere and anytime: in a crowd of people; at street corners; in the middle of an intersection.

A couple of days ago, as he lay in the middle of the street we were trying to cross, a group of students standing on the corner started hootin’ and hollerin’ and calling out at Carmine. I heard a female voice yell, “She can’t control her dog!” I tensed up, but bit my tongue and tried harder to get him across. When I finally succeeded in getting us across the street, an older gentleman who had been watching told me he had a Boxer who used to do the same collapse in the street thing all the time . . . OMG!!! Carmine is acting like both breeds that he’s made of?? I’LL NEVER FIND A SOLUTION!!!!  The man also said he was sure Carmine felt the tension in the leash from me as I probably wanted to scream at that girl making fun of us.  I sure did.

So everyday is once again a challenge.  I alternate between the martingale and the gentle leader; there is no consistency in our walks.  Some days we walk for two miles; other days we walk two blocks.

I’m envious of anyone I see strolling along with their dog. 

Funny thing is someone on the street asked me yesterday if I just adopted Carmine from a shelter because he was walking like a “shelter dog!”  Although I felt bad about his question, I explained that Carmine has walking issues regardless of what I do. The guy then said but at least Carmine’s sweet and I’m lucky in that sense — apparently this man's dog is aggressive and lunges at any dog who passes them on the street.

I guess I don’t have it so bad after all.


 

Boy oh boy, time has flown by and my apologies for not writing. I have been way pre-occupied with Carmine and re-training him. Or rather training him further.

He’s at that age now — 16 months — where he’s feeling confident and rather like a “man” instead of a boy, so I’ve been hyper-sensitive watching every move he makes. And I’ve been working with a trainer as well to combat his walking stubbornness (he’s SUCH a bulldog!) and just wanting him to really be attentive to me, regardless of the situation.

And I’m happy to report that things are going well: I re-hired a dog walker and for the past two weeks, Carmine goes out three times a week for a full hour walking with someone other than me!  Hurray!!!

I’ve also been giving him both good and bad time-outs: good so he learns patience and not always craving my attention and “bad” ones for when he does something wrong even though he’s been told “No!”  (Carmine has selective hearing as most children and men do LOL)  I was a bit concerned about Easter (last Sunday) as my whole family, including my 18 month-old great-nephew, was coming over for dinner. Carmine’s been pretty good with crowds when I’ve had parties, plus he’s always great with children we meet on the street. But this was going to be the constant presence of a small child in Carmine’s domain. My trainer told me to leash him when we ate and he would be fine.

I was still a bit apprehensive.

Being a dog (and a large one), Carmine table-surfed as soon as everyone sat down for dinner. So I leashed him and gave him a bully stick to pre-occupy. He actually wound up being leashed most of the day ( he was in the same room with us) and I’m happy to say he was a very good boy. He barked twice: The first time I realized he was telling me he had “to go” because the leash didn’t reach the front door (he rings bells when he has to go outside) and the second time was just to get my attention.  I turned my back and walked away……he stopped barking and laid down to rest!
What a good boy!

And his reaction to my great-nephew?  Every time Jack came over calling him Bow Wow, he would gently pet Carmine’s wide body. Carmine would lick Jack and Jack would turn away giggling. It was just precious. Thankfully, my niece (my nephew’s wife) grew up with a lab and “gets” dogs.  She loved the interaction between her son and Carmine.

So all in all the day was a success. I didn’t poison my family with my cooking and Carmine proved that he is truly (and finally!) growing up.




  

Carmine and I now walk, walk, and walk. I feel like Forest Gump! Who knows — maybe we’ll walk across America one of these days! It all started when I began limiting Carm’s dog park adventures for various reasons: dogs not being supervised because their owners are socializing; others not being supervised because they’re part of a dog walker’s six-pack; and some tiffs that I’m tired of breaking up.

A couple of weeks ago, Carmine got into it with a chow—they were about the same size. They looked at each other and within seconds: Bam! They went at it. Only this time my usual grab-the-back-legs-pull didn’t work because I lost my footing and slipped on the pebbles. Thankfully a guy ran over and grabbed Carmine for me. I left with my legs shaking and thought “Enough.”

So now Carmine and I walk and walk. I’m looking forward to the warmer weather and NYC street fairs because we’ll be hitting them all! And being the magnet that he is, who knows whom we might meet. That’s the beauty of walking a dog.

A trainer friend recently suggested that I hire a dog walker to get Carmine out in the early afternoon so I can start trusting him out of his crate. Tuesday was his first day and he gave the walker a hard time although they did walk a bit before he put on his stubbornness hat. Figuring it was because it was something “new”, the trainer tried again with Carmine on Wednesday. This time Carmine went outside and sat. Then he just flattened out and wouldn’t budge. Not for squeaky toys, sweet talk, not even for treats!  

I’ve heard numerous reasons why it happened: 1)  new routine; 2) didn’t like the dog walker;, 3) he only likes walking with me; and 4) he’s spoiled. What dog doesn’t like to go outdoors
regardless of who’s holding the leash???? Apparently Carmine who is a true mama’s boy.  And now, another problem for me to conquer.  It’s just another day as the boy grows up.

 

There’s been a big debate lately among my friends on how many dogs one person should be allowed to take into a dog park. I know some dog parks have rules stating no more than two or three dogs per person.

This debate was brought to my attention yesterday when I ran into someone in the dog park with his two dogs and we discussed it. He said there might be a rule passed allowing three dogs max per person. I told him I strongly supported it. He told me he wasn’t thrilled because his two dogs go out sometimes with a dog walker who would have a problem with that. I told him I had a problem with any dog walker who goes into any park with a pack of dogs (like 4, 5, or 6!) because it is not humanly possible to watch all of the dogs at the same time. It’s a workout for me following Carmine around and shadowing his moves; doing that with five different dogs? No way possible. I told him that his dog walker would just have to make more trips. Problem solved.

Am I being unreasonable? I don’t think so. Many times I’ve seen dog fights occur in the dog park while a dog walker was busy with his other four dogs. I think if he had fewer dogs with him, his attention wouldn’t be so fragmented among his dogs. Is it always like this? Probably not.  But I’ve seen it enough times in the year I’ve had Carmine to realize it is a problem. I usually see things in gray; Life to me is never black and white. But in this case, it’s black and white. Three dogs tops. If you’re a dog walker with a partner, terrific. You can walk into a dog park with six dogs, no problem.  

What do you think? I’m curious how you, the doggedhealth reader, feels about this. Please write your comments and why you feel that way. I’m willing to go back to gray.

 

Carmine and I have had a setback. I have to keep reminding myself that he is only 14 months old, not even two yet!  I’ve trusted him more and more out of his crate, and, with the exception of a pillow (intact!) thrown on the floor, he’s been “good” for up to four hours. Ultimately I’d like to leave him free in my apt. during the day and I thought we were getting closer.  Oh was I wrong.

I have an old wicker basket — not sure if it held flowers or plants because I got it a long time ago. I currently use it to store magazines on the floor next to the couch.  About two weeks ago, Carmine became obsessed with it while I was out. He had destroyed the top half of the basket, but hardly touched the magazines. He did eat the wicker. I found strips of it everywhere as if he had taken his hand-paws and meticulously unraveled the basket. Such a talent. I was concerned about the wicker going through his system, but luckily he passed it and was fine.  

I should’ve thrown the remainder out…but I didn’t. Monday night, I left him free for about two hours, and this time he finished what he started two weeks ago. All that was left was the bottom circle of the basket as if it was a heavy placemat. What intrigued me the most was how he got the wicker basket out from under the magazines without toppling them, just like the old magic trick of pulling the tablecloth off the table while leaving the settings in place!  I worried again about the wicker going through his system, but thankfully and luckily he passed it and was fine.

Last night I decided to trust him again, and after a long walk and playing in the dog park for an hour, I left him free. He followed me as I prepared to leave. That made me wonder because he usually doesn’t do that. When I got home, I realized he escalated his damage; he chewed the cover of a small plastic wastebasket; found a bag of beaded necklaces and destroyed them (my stupidity for forgetting where they were and leaving them around; thankfully he didn’t eat them!)  He also chewed on books including a section of “To Kill a Mockingbird”!! I was angry, but caught myself before I yelled because (I know, I know) it would have been meaningless and confusing since I didn’t catch him in the act. Anyway, he could tell by my body language that I was angry so he hid in his crate.

About an hour later, I watched him stick his nose in one spot on the floor.  When I investigated I realized he was showing me the dry urine where he must’ve urinated earlier while I was out!!! He never ever pees indoors!! Boy oh boy trifecta!

I know dogs do damage out of boredom or anxiety, but I also know I did all the right things like exercise and play.  I guess the boy is still too young to be trusted.

Make me feel better!  Share your stories of destruction.


 

I like dogs; I like kids; and I like food. But I don’t like two out of those three in the dog park. I’ve become quite militant about people coming into the dog park with food — I always tell them it’s a dog park and there are dogs all around so it’s really not fair to eat food in front of them!!!
Sometimes it’s a dogless visitor but more often than not, it’s a dog owner.  And boy does that make my blood boil. Dog owners should know that fact more than anyone else in civilization!!!

One afternoon during the summer, a 12 yr old girl came into the dog park licking an ice cream cone. Did it look delicious to me on a hot summer day? Absolutely. Would I be eating that ice cream cone in a dog park? Absolutely not! So I told her that food isn’t allowed here in the park and that it’s really unfair to the dogs. Did she apologize?  No.  Did she respond to me verbally? No. She gave her cone to her dad who plopped his big butt on a bench next to her and ate the ice cream. I was annoyed. Thankfully he ate it quickly.

Sunday morning, I took Carmine to the dog park for some early morning play. In front of me, a man and his dog and his small child were entering. The kid was maybe 8 or 9 yrs old. Before I had a moment to breathe, I see the kid lying on the ground and Carmine jumping on him to play, nothing aggressive because I could see Carmine licking the child’s face. I pulled off Carmine and apologized to the dad as the kid was screaming and crying. A friend on the bench called out to me that it wasn’t my fault.

Thankfully the dad got it; he told me he knew my dog just wanted to play and being a big boy didn’t realize his size around the kid.

All is well until the kid decides he wants to throw the ball for his dog. Fine, except the kid would take the ball and hold it over his head and just stand there. And what does that make a dog do? Jump up to try to catch it!!! So I look at the dad and he yells at the kid to throw the ball.  

Good thing the dad was a dog person who got it — sort of.  I think if he truly got it, he would’ve left the kid home. Trust me, I have nothing against kids—I do like them.  It’s not about that at all.

But I can’t bring my dog into the kiddie park so why should a kid be in the dog park? Especially in any dog park where you have many different dog personalities and sizes plus various types of owners: responsible ones; irresponsible one; absent ones; etc.

I guess there’s not much that can be done about it except to tolerate it. And maybe educate the child who does come into the dog park. But when it comes to food, I’ll continue to be militant as long as my voice can be heard.  Promise me you’ll do the same thing!

I know this is crazy but I’ve always been intrigued by how dogs vomit.  I remember watching a neighbor’s dog eat grass when I was a kid and then my best friend and I watched in amazement as the dog instantly vomited; ate grass again; vomited; ate grass and the repetition continued.

As an adult and a dog owner, vomit is a much more accepted part of life.  But I am still intrigued by how a dog vomits. They definitely give you ample warning; usually enough time to move them or make them go to an area where the clean-up is easier!  

It seems to start at the tail, and then the ripple seems to work its way upward, sometimes slowly, until it gets to the neck and head.  At this point, you know the mouth will soon open and something will come out.  All the while, the noise is what always gets me.  Kinda like a washing machine in the wash cycle, it’s a combination of sloshing noise and rhythm.  And there is a unique rhythm to it.  I’m always fascinated to watch it.  Poor dog is about to vomit and I’m staring at the groove of nature working its magic.

Now that Carmine sleeps with me for the most part, I knew that the inevitable was bound to happen.  And it did.  Around 4am last night, I heard the rhythm. It woke me with a start. I put on the light, and sure enough I saw the familiar ripple traveling up my boy’s body.  And he knew it too because he sat up straight as it happened.  I screamed “Off Off” and he jumped off the bed and vomited on the floor.  Typical doggie liquid vomit.  Of course I always have to inspect it because I have to see what the dog ingested, hopefully nothing too scary.  As I’m squinting I see some fuzzy black thing in the middle of the liquid.  I think it was the nose from one of Carmine’s stuffed animals, not too sure.  All’s cleaned up, back to sleep….until 5:30am when I heard the rhythm again.   And again he produced liquid and a piece of a toy. I soothed him and waited a bit to see if he would settle down. He did so back to sleep we went.

By this morning, Carmine seemed fine. The groove of nature had worked its magic, keeping it all in rhythm. 

When you’re single with a dog, you get teased that your dog is your girlfriend or boyfriend.  And if you’re single and female, and your dog is a male….well then the jokes are endless.  So I’ve been taking it “like a man” lol when I’m teased that Carmine is my boyfriend.  I just agree and move on.  And basically when I think about it, he is better than a boyfriend in a sense:  he never argues with me; he never complains about my tone; he never has to run home to see his mother; and he’s
always happy to see me!

Lately in NYC, the temperatures have been frigid; nothing compared to other parts of the country, but frigid to those of us who walk and do most of our daily duties by foot.  As a result, I’ve let Carmine sleep with me the past few nights.  Yes, sleep next to me in my bed to keep me warm.  Better than an electric blanket because I know he won’t electrocute me in my sleep.  At first I hesitated as I remembered all I’ve read about being the alpha; the pack leader; the I’m-in-bed-you’re-on-the-floor thinking.  But then I thought of all the people I know who are the Master of their pack and their dog or dogs sleep peacefully by their side each night.  So as I watched David Letterman, I tapped the bed and said “Up” and Carmine eagerly jumped on the bed and instantly snuggled next to me with his head on my shoulder. And he was warm….oh so very 67 lbs worth of warm!  And if he moved during the night and laid along the length of my body, then he became like one of those draft busters people use along their doors to block out the cold.  I woke up one night and his big head was on my neck like a scarf!  A warm and furry scarf—much better than cashmere!!

The odd thing I did notice but not sure is connected is that he seems to be a better listener lately as if he’s more in tune with me.

Who knows? 

Maybe that’s the reason or maybe he’s just growing up. If he's growing up, do you think can we teach that to human males??

 

Some dogs have expensive taste in their food; others will only eat store-brand dog food.  My dog likes Poopsicles.

It probably started a couple of months ago:  Carmine got fixated on some fresh poop and kept trying to eat it.  Gross, I thought. I knew some puppies eat their own poop, but not Carmine. He was never interested in his own poop and I guess that’s good, but he did get interested one fall morning in the dog park.  Must’ve been a delicacy because he lapped that up before I could stop him. An hour later, he had diarrhea.  It happened randomly and I never thought much of it.  Of course everyone who saw him eat it had to offer their opinion and tell me he had a vitamin deficiency.  Well maybe but I don’t know.  And a few friends suggested I feed him an hour so before we go to the park.  Good advice so I took it. It did not work. If I caught Carmine in the act and yelled at him whenever it happened, he would stop.  Of course the problem would be solved if everyone picked up after their dogs, but I guess that’s too much to ask.

Then last weekend, we were at the dog park and he was running around and actually ignoring some of the poop.  And there was a lot of poop; not fresh but frozen.  I called them Poopsicles.  I was relieved as he ignored the icy treats. And then it happened: Carmine became fixated and determined to taste every Poopsicle in the dog park!! Who knows maybe in the doggy world it’s like Italian Ices to us:  I prefer Chocolate; my mom likes Lemon; and some like Cherry. Either way it was frustrating trying to stop him.  Especially when I would command “Leave It!!” and he would for the first, second, and third time.  Then the fourth time he would look at me as if to say “Thanks for the treats but I’m craving a Poopsicle” and he would grab a piece and eat it.  Yuck. I was totally grossed out by my own dog especially when we got home and he tried to kiss me.  Oh no you don’t. I turned away. 

Coincidentally, the Dog Whisperer episode last week was about a dog that ate everything in sight including its own poop.  And Cesar said the dog is either bored or vitamin deficient.  SIGH.  But he did present a possible solution - enticing the dog with a banana whenever it was attracted to and about to eat poop.  A-HA! Maybe that’s what I need to do.  

So the next time Carmine and I go to the dog park, I’ll be carrying a water bottle and a banana.  As he goes towards the Poopsicle, I’ll squirt him to distract him then wave a piece of banana in front of his nose just like Cesar did.  And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll be the crazy lady putting Tabasco sauce on all the Poopsicles in the dog park!!!

 

My niece called me all excited the Monday before Christmas:  I was the first to know she put down a deposit on a King Charles pup she fell in love with.  My heart sank.  She broke two of my cardinal rules:  1) Don’t buy a dog; 2) Don’t get suckered into the holiday spirit of buying a puppy.  I was so distraught knowing she was the least appropriate candidate for dog ownership.  At 25, she recently relocated to another city and was still trying to find her direction.  Feeling lonely and affected by all-things holiday, she made an emotional and impulsive choice.  As I tried to convince her not to do it, she began to reveal that she had been hearing my voice in her head the whole time telling her she was making a mistake. The puppy was eight weeks old and had already been neutered because he had a cyst!  She even noticed when she went to see him that his eyes looked glazed. She admitted she made a mistake.  

Of course when she called to cancel her purchase, she was told she lost her deposit because she signed a contract!

And the contract was basically to avoid what just happened:  They want someone who is serious about dog ownership….and that I understand.  Although she tried numerous times they would not budge and return her $100.

I did some research online and learned that it is a rarity to get a dog deposit refunded.  While I understand the concept behind it, I also believe it is a racket in many of these stores. Many of them are getting their pups from puppy mills rather than reliable breeders.  And that is a crime in itself.

Needless to say when I called and tried to reason with the manager (who btw spoke and argued like a teenager) I hit a roadblock:  Whatever common sense I offered about returning the deposit was shot down by a snide remark.

The bad news is my niece lost $100; the good news is hopefully she learned a lesson about impulsively buying a dog.

Happy New Year to all you dog lovers!! And remember to tell your friends for the New Year:  Don’t Buy While Animals in Shelters Die.

 

Big day for the boy as he celebrated his first birthday!! And what a year it's been: Born in a garage; dumped at a shelter because he had a cold; I take him home and he gets pneumonia; in ICU for five days then has to use a nebulizer for two weeks; gets neutered (sorry guys); swallows a squeaky from a toy so has to get an x-ray; gets papilloma warts on his lips probably from the dog park and because he has a low immune system from the pneumonia; and finally last weekend gets his ear nipped at the dog park because he grabbed a ball from a rottie he was playing with! He's fine now but my apt did look like a crime scene as blood splattered everywhere every time he shook his big head.

As I've told many people, Carmine is the polar opposite of Clarice.  And as Cesar Milan says "you don't get the dog you want, you get the dog you need" so I guess CTBR (my abbreviation for “Carmine the Big Ragu”) and I connected for a reason beyond my knowledge.  But it's ok because I love him. And he's a sweet clown-of-a-dog.  So in a sense, he really is similar to Clarice.

And I know someday he'll be calm and lazy, and I'll long for his crazy pup days or rather his adolescent days!!

I think we hit a milestone this weekend: At the park, I noticed his leash was fraying, so I figured we would stop at the store and buy him a new one on the way home. As we left the dog park, he put on his big foot brakes—he usually does this as we’re leaving the dog park similar to a child refusing to leave the playground. I usually give a slight tug and he’ll walk and then stop and we continue our start/stop dance until we’re out of the park when he starts walking just perfectly. This time, the second or third time I gave him a tug, the leash snapped in half in my hand and I went falling backwards. I thankfully landed on my big butt cracking up the whole time. My friend Jane was walking with me with her two dogs and she freaked out:  “Maria are you ok?”  I couldn’t stop laughing as I watched Carmine stand still in his own doggie shock and then he came rushing over to me, climbed onto my lap and licked my face!!!! I was thrilled!  My boy realized that I’m his mom and I was “hurt” and came rushing to my aid ignoring all the other dogs and other people he usually is in such a rush to drag me back to. The memory of it still makes me smile.

Yesterday it snowed in NYC and at times the snowflakes were huge, looking like post-its!  When I came home, Carmine took his first walk in the snow….and he liked it!  So I brought him to the dog park where I made snowballs (good packing snow) and he endlessly chased them as if they were tennis balls.  And the best part was throwing the snowballs in the air and Carmine would jump up and try to catch them in his boxer-mix way. A little confused when they broke up on his face, he then ate the snow as if it was a new fluffy treat!

So the boy who had a rough start is now maturing into a fine young adolescent. Well at least he is today as he snoozes and lets me write in peace.

 

I decided I needed an alternative to the dog park.  As much as I love to watch Carmine play and interact with other pooches, I started to see what every trainer I know always says:  Dog parks are a breeding ground for unstable, aggressive, and untrained dogs. And even if your dog is the best behaved dog (don’t we all think that) it’s the other dog and most likely the owner who is the problem.

So I decided to take Carmine on his first “run” (actually jog) on his first Thanksgiving.  I also figured it was good for me to run that morning to absolve my guilt-to-come as I would be eating later in the day as if I were going to the electric chair!!!!

We walked briskly to the river where there’s a bicycle/runners path.

Carmine was like a kid in a candy shop!! The water, the seagulls, the bushes, the trees, the bicycles whizzing by, and the runners!  What’s a dog to do??!! Where do I look?? All these new sights and smells!!!!

His head was spinning from left to right.  We did jog a bit, and then we’d walk and alternate between jogging and walking for about an hour.  I brought home a very tired Carmine.

Thinking that our run was a huge success, I decided to try it again on Friday morning to burn off all those millions of calories I ingested the day and night before, and also to see how Carmine would do.  A different outcome this time:  Carmine was either still tired from the day before or he’s just not a fan of the jog.  He did do a couple of sprints, you know those puppy bursts of energy…but we mostly walked.  In fact, he flat-out laid down a couple of times.  Maybe the two days in a row wasn’t such a hot idea after all.

But I’m not giving up!  I’ll try again to get the young boy on the run.

And after that?   Agility here we come!!!







 

I crate Carmine. And I crated Clarice as well. There I admitted it. I believe in crating 100% to help housetrain a dog as well as keep the destruction to a minimum.

Carmine loves his crate (the den mentality of animals) so when we come back from the dog park, he usually nestles into his crate and naps. When I leave in the morning for work, he actually waits to go into his crate because a Kong stuffed with frozen peanut butter will go in before him and he loves it! I then leave and go to work without talking to him or saying goodbye.  

The other night I was watching “It’s Me or the Dog” (love her!) and she berated a woman who crated her 11 month old puppy (Carmine’s age) while she went out to work!! She said three hours in the crate is the maximum!!! I never heard that before and of course felt guilty about Carmine being crated for a longer period of time.  So I decided to start weaning him.

I left him alone on Sunday for about two hours.  I went through the “leaving” ritual but instead of locking the crate door behind him, I just closed it and left it unlocked.  I closed the doors of the rooms in my apt except the small work room where he likes to sleep on the futon.
I came home…..and although he greeted me at the door, I knew he’d been sleeping on the futon.  Nice job!!!  Later in the day, I left him again for about an hour.  This time when I came home he was just chilling in his crate.  Both times, no damage anywhere.

Of course I now had false security!! 

What separation anxiety?? He can handle my leaving!!  So Monday after work, I had to go to another job.  I stopped in to take him for a long walk and figured I’d test him again.  Went through the ritual and left him for about three hours.  When I came home, I saw a pillow from the futon on the living room floor.  I also saw white stuff scattered all over the living room:  at first I thought it was the pillow stuffing because he had ripped open the pillow. When I got closer, I realized he had taken some magazines out of the magazine rack and shredded a bunch of the pages.  I guess he disapproved of the front covers—not enough canines on them! The worst thing?  He chewed a piece of the rug, leaving an imprint of his teeth on the bottom of the rug as well as a hole in it.  Not very noticeable but I know it’s there. I was so disappointed.  

But then I realized: Why was he fine on Sunday and destructive on Monday? Probably because he spent some quality time running around the dog park Sunday morning.  Monday he only had a long walk in between.  So, I decided to try it again tonight.  After spending time at the dog park, I fed him then left for almost two hours.

I held my breath as I opened the front door, expecting to see confetti all over the floor or maybe even worse. The outcome?  All fine. He threw two pillows on the floor but who cares?  They were intact.

The answer is in the exercise.  Not just walking but running around, playing, being-a-dog exercise. So now I’ll continue to exercise him before he gets tested again.  And hopefully between the exercise and maturity, Carmine will decide when he wants to use his crate.

 

I love the fact that dogs go to the bathroom wherever and whenever.
There’s never a bad time or a better time in the dog world. I
remember a friend who had a three-legged Dalmatian telling me that one night while they were at an upscale charity event with yellow-haired whippet-thin women, her dog stood in the middle of the “red carpet” and took a dump.  She laughed while those around were mortified.

Clarice, my dog before Carmine, did the same thing at a charity event.  I remember John Leguizamo was in attendance (but thankfully didn’t see it). As we walked down a long room making our way to the bar, she squatted and took a dump. I didn’t care except there weren’t any garbage pails around so I had to dump “the dump” by the bar.

I really had no choice.

Carmine randomly squats.  And since he still pees like a girl, he goes wherever on the sidewalk.  I try to pull him over to the curb, but sometimes it just doesn’t happen.  Most times people pass and smile
(probably laughing at us because I’m saying “Good boy” and they’re thinking boy??) But sometimes I get the dirtiest looks and comments because the dog had the nerve to make the person alter his/her path.

It is a big sidewalk isn’t it??

I keep reading that plastic bags are going to be banned in NYC.This panics me because sometimes those bags that come out of the hydrant-on-the-leash are just too small. Everything about Carmine is extra-large! Well if there is a ban on the plastic, then I guess newspapers and paper towels will do – the Sunday Times and whole lotta paper towels.  As long as we clean it up!!

 

Sorry for not writing sooner but it’s tough to do what I want to do living with a needy 10 month old puppy.  I love that he’s a mama’s boy and attached to me, but sometimes it doesn’t give me much time to do what I need to do.  Which brings me to today’s thoughts:  If push came to shove, would Carmine be the ultimate mama’s boy and protect me??  

I ask this because a neighbor called me to let me know she was accosted last night in the neighborhood while walking her own young “mama’s boy.”  And although she wasn’t physically harmed, she was terribly disappointed that her male Pomerian mix didn’t come to her rescue, nip the guy who grabbed her, or even bark at him!! She had to pick up her dog, punch the guy in the stomach, and run away.

She told me that she almost wished she had a big dog.  And that brought back an incident that happened when Carmine was four or five months old and still doing his “sit-downs”:  refusing to walk at all on the leash unless I walked backwards and led him with a treat.

And one bright and sunny Saturday afternoon, a very drunk and loud man came up to us during one of the sit-downs and started petting Carmine in a very heavy-handed manner while I desperately tried to get the boy to walk away with me.  And then the man grabbed my arm while shouting “I love you” at me!  I pulled my arm away angrily while Carmine just sat and looked the other way.  I dragged Carmine away while the guy shouted “I love you” for half a block!  And I thought what’s the point of having a dog—big or small—if he doesn’t know to protect me!  I asked my friends with adult dogs and they all responded the same:  If he senses you’re in danger, a dog will come to your rescue.  Maybe not as a young pup, but as he matures and knows you better.  They reassured me that he’ll sense that you’re in danger and will react.  

I knew my tone was annoyance not fear that day.  I know my friend’s was anger last night and not fear either.  It’s not that I want to be tested or anything, but I’m curious as to what would happen.

I guess I’m sharing this story to give you a bit of advice:  Don’t feel over-confident because you’re walking with a dog, especially at night.  

My friend with the Pomeranian mix told me she was on her cell.  Not a good idea I suppose.  That’s a distraction and maybe the guy knew that.  I guess we should consider carrying pepper spray or mace?  She told me she wants to carry a golf club with her from now on.  That might look funny and actual be quite a nuisance.

But whatever you do, be careful out there.




 

When I first saw Carmine on the shelter’s website, his name was Mugsy and it said he was an 8 week-old Bulldog.  I have a thing for pushed-in faces (actually called “brachycephalic”) so I thought

I gotta have him.  In reality, he was a 10 week-old Boxer/Bulldog mix.

After changing his name to Carmine (that night at the shelter) and nursing him through a cold which became pneumonia before he finally got better, he started to grow tall & long.  And as he grew, he looked more and more like a Boxer; not a purebred Boxer but a mix.  When we went back to the medical center for some shots, the vets and technicians didn’t recognize him – the baby Bulldog they treated had become a Boxer boy!!

And so the questions and answers began. I’ve been told – not asked but told with extreme certainty – by people on the street Carmine is A) An Old English Bulldog, B) An American Bulldog, C) An American Boxer, D) A German Boxer, E) An Alapaha Blue Bulldog, (Say what?? I have no idea either. Not even if they said Alpha or Alfalfa), F) A Mastiff, G) A Great Dane, and H) A Pitbull.  And each persons insists that that’s what Carmine is and they know better, so there! One person even said, “Oh I never heard of that breed…is it new?,” as if a Boxer/Bulldog is one of the new designer breeds!  So that would make him a Boxbull or a Buller???!!! Shut Up!!

I remember finding a Boston Terrier/Pug mix on the Humane Society’s website before I found Carmine, but he was instantly adopted.  Intrigued by the mix, I Googled “Boston Terrier Pug mix” to find all these breeders specializing in the new designer breed called a “Bugg”!!

Seriously, a Bugg.  Then one day, I saw a baby “Bugg” in the dog park.  It was an east coast Paris Hilton moment as this very young girl had this very tiny dog and told me some silly nickname for it even though I told her it was a Bugg. She disagreed, having a problem wrapping her head around the fact that a bug usually has wings, antennae, lotsa legs, and can fly.

I will scream if one more person suggests I do a DNA test on Carmine that supposedly can tell you the different breeds that make up your dog.  Why?  I’d rather spend the bucks on dog food or treats, y’know the yummy doggy crack known as lamb lung.

And who really cares what Carmine is or what any dog is?

He has four legs; a heartbeat; a big head; a bark; and a tail that wags when he sees me.  He’s a dog and that’s all that matters.

I’m not sure exactly when it started; probably when I was a kid andloved going to my Aunt Sophie’s house in Brooklyn because she had a dog, a fat beagle named Spike.

And I would sit and pet him and pet him and pet him for hours.

And so my love affair with dogs began. My parents never let me have my own although I swore I would take care of it but you know how most parents react to that promise and how most kids break that promise anyway. So I had to settle for red-eared turtles and goldfish.

I actually had to get married to get a dog! Well not really but finally got my own dog back when I was married. My husband (at the time now the ex) had a dog allergy and we heard pugs were one of the breeds suitable for people with allergies. And so Clarice the Wonder Pug became my first official dog. And yes, I did name her after Clarice Starling from “Silence of the Lambs” because I loved the way Anthony Hopkins pronounced “I’ll help you catch him Clarice”….y’know I am in Radio so I have a thing for voices and pronunciations. I’m not sure where the Wonder Pug part came from but it stuck. (Although I did see an Odd Couple episode where Oscar Felix owned a greyhound named Golden Earring and they called it “The Wonder Dog”….ooops, maybe I stole it from them!)

The love affair blossomed. Between Clarice and me that is. And yes I did get her in the divorce and we spent the next 13 years together until she died in her sleep a few weeks shy of 16. She taught me everything about dogs and she opened my heart to the plight of animals less fortunate than she. Together we experienced life, death, happiness, sorrow, loss, and accomplishments. I shared Clarice with my radio audience for many years. When I would meet someone for the first time, he/she never asked how I was…it was always “How’s the Wonder Pug”??

When she left me in 2006, the hole in my heart appeared. And as I always say, it gets a little smaller but it’ll always be there.

This past February, Clarice guided me to my next dog, Carmine the Big Ragu. (Yes I’m all about entertainment!) For those of you who are fans of the TV show “Laverne & Shirley”, Carmine was Laverne’s bf played by Eddie Mekka who I had a crush on. Hence the name of my adopted Boxer/Bulldog mix. My first male dog (everyone in my family always had females) and my first BIG dog! Carmine, or CTBR as I refer to him on-air, has now joined the ranks of his older sister Clarice in being part of my radio show.

And he’s a big goofy clown-of-a dog!

So….what’s the point of all this? Am I a dog expert? No. A dog trainer? Nope. Just one of those people who loves dogs, probably more than humans sometimes. And I want to share my various canine experiences with you. Who knows?

Maybe something I write will help you with your pooch or guide you in a direction that you’re seeking. We shall see.