Earle Hembree III


Golden Retriever/Chow Chow
Picture of Earle Hembree III, a male Golden Retriever/Chow Chow

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Home:New Orleans, LA  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 17 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 51-100 lbs

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   Leave a bone for Earle Hembree III

Nicknames:
Devil Dog, Poopy Woop, Buddy Boy, Singer, Pubs

Doggie Dynamics:
 Energy 
sleepyenergetic
 
 Intelligence 
sillygenius
 
 Friendliness 
aggressiveaffectionate
 
 Playfulness 
not playfulvery playful
 
 Disposition 
anxiouscalm
 

Quick Bio:
-mutt-dog rescue

Likes:
Seeing Grandma-Grandpa Snax, receiving hip massages and nose rubs from Daddy, rough housing with Mommy

Pet-Peeves:
Either adoptive sister cramping his style, being boarded, thunderstorms, fireworks, cats (other than his brother, Mel)

Favorite Toy:
Snake, Dead Duck, Purple Martian

Favorite Food:
Cheese, stolen cat food

Favorite Walk:
Audubon Park

Best Tricks:
Earle III does not do tricks

Arrival Story:
"The world was my oyster: it was the winter of '98, I was intact, I was stupid-free on the streets of Birmingham, AL. By day, I chased cats and broke dogs out of their fences. I ate steak. And by night, well, wherever I laid my head was . . . you know the rest. Then Mommy, visiting her grandmother at the time, found me: sans home, sans tags, intact. Next thing I knew, I was in the slammer. Then she rescued me. Then she . . . let's just say . . . she "altered" my life forever. That's not all: I live with a cat. He grooms my face. Thank you."

Bio:
Earle III had a very rough start. He was a stray I found on a visit home to Alabama to see family. I fell in love with his huge, beautiful face when I first saw him through my grandmother's screen door, but my New York landlord did not allow pets. First, I took Earle to a shelter, but I knew that as a large, intact adult he didn't have a chance. So I bailed him out the next day and boarded him for five months. My dad, Earle Jr., visited regularly. I left NYC, so Earle III was flown to Tucson, AZ to live with my husband and me. We have since moved to New Orleans, and Earle III has acquired three siblings. Earle is the most perceptive and complex of our animals. He has this soulful look; we always say he has the mind of a primitive man. On the surface, he seems aloof but requires more attention and love than any of our babies. He was utterly untrainable, but he understands a lot of language. Usually we don't even know what word or phrase Earle recognizes before he's either waiting for a friend to arrive or leading the way to our next destination. We love you, Earle.

The Groups I'm In:
+++Hurricane Katrina/Rita Survivors and Rescuers+++

I've Been On Dogster Since:
May 12th 2005 More than 8 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Dogster Id:
148057


Meet my family
Sissy Sappho
Belle
Mel (In Loving
Memory)
Genevieve
Britney Spears

Meet my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals
 

Earle III's Book of Days: A Canine Manifesto. Please help the animals; give to www.hsus.org or www.noahswish.org.


On Sad Days

September 15th 2005 3:15 pm
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Comrades,

Many of you have read the diary entries of my siblings, so you know the story of our escape. I apologize for being so tardy in my response to this disaster of unthinkable proportions. I have been ill since our evacuation--an unrelated eye and elbow infection.

Enough of my aches and pains. I know that there are many things we can learn from this dire situation, and as I am old and have been homeless myself, I will not hesitate to list them.
1) I hope that in the future when humans evacuate their homes prior to disasters that they will, if at all possible, take their animals with them. Before you grab that insurance policy, your grandmother's watch, a book, take the living and breathing things. When we left New Orleans, I was disgusted with my humans for cramming in a friends' cat and the neighborhood cats along with all of us. Now I see that no one, not even a cat, deserves this kind of death.
2) There are many humans whom we can trust. These rescuers, they too are our comrades. We will be forever indebted to them.
3) Home is not your favorite dog dish, napping spot under the oak tree, or even the best pee tree in a neighborhood. It is the community of dogs and humans and, yes, maybe cats from all over the country and world who unite to help each other.

There are many animals still suffering along the Gulf Coast and many in the local shelters who miss their humans. I realize that it is difficult to think about these things--it is too painful. But please help in whatever way that you can: donate money or supplies to the organizations listed on the dogster homepage, foster or adopt a shelter animal (whether a Katrina refugee or not), or simply write to the rescuers at Best Friends and thank them for all that they are doing.

If you are interested in adopting or fostering, I have pasted in some information from NOLA.com. As the first ad states, many mutts are also available. Why in the world would humans care about our "pedigree"? God knows, we don't care about theirs.

8.) FOSTER - Humane Society of Louisiana
CONTACT:
Humane Society of West Louisiana
Rosepine, LA
Rita, 337-462-3321

FOSTER/ADOPT - URGENT: The Humane Society of West Louisiana is fielding
thousands of calls from people affected by Hurricane Katrina because they
are the closest Humane Society with a working telephone. (approximately 4
hours west of New Orleans in Rosepine, LA)

Running out of space. Looking, right now, for "Breed Specific Rescues," or
anyone, to find homes for these babies! Current example of purebred
hurricane victims (will be euthanized if no homes found):
-- Husky, 3, very sweet, getting very depressed, is eating less and less.
--Pomeranian, 7, won't stop shaking unless being held.
--Poodle, ?, just adorable, but shivering and very difficult to get out of cage.
--Collie, 1+, won't stop crying, unless being held.
--Cocker Spaniel, 4, very cute, very, very upset.
--ALSO, abundance of "mutts"
===============================================

9.) FOSTER - Tangipahoa Parish Animal Center
CONTACT:
Betsy Pittman, 985-543-0215
Hammond, Louisiana

FOSTER/ADOPT - URGENT: Existing animals may have to be euthanized to
accommodate Katrina overflow from Baton Rouge and Covington. Especially
LARGE DOGS. Current example of dogs needing rescue:
Great Pyrenees, German Shepherd, Large Wirehair Terrier, Blue Tick Heeler,
Border Collie mix, Standard Poodle mix, etc. Also, a lot of cats!

 

On Public Humiliation Days

June 14th 2005 4:28 pm
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I admit I have been dispirited of late--feeling I would be a hypocrite to compose a rallying proclamation. However, our fellow comrade Jay-R has cheered me. "Oh dear, but why," the humans might inquire, "why would Earle III be dispirited? He has it all: stuffed animals, vegetarian 'doggy' treats, a CAT, regular hip massages?" (Hip dysplasia--I'm not a pup any more friends.) Why indeed, lightly-furred bipeds?

Allow me to set the scene: it is summer here in southern Louisiana—the odor of crawfish from neighbors' yards (MY humans are vegetarian), the squeaking of porch swings, the heat, the heat of the sidewalk, the heat of the eating den, the heat of cars, the heat of cat feces steaming in my back yard. Please forgive the following digression; I do have a point, albeit a solemn one. As many may have observed, the humans voluntarily remove their own fur with sharpened metal. Indeed, the female humans may de-fur their entire lower quarters and some of their upper parts, as well. My female human, for example, applies and peels hot liquids from her body for de-furring. I can only assume that the humans do this to remain cool. Some even clip or shave their canine companions. Just yesterday, I spoke briefly with my newly-shorn comrade neighbor. A chow-mix like your humble advisor, he felt debased by the botched shearing: his tail intact, the fur on his flanks and trunk spotty. Many of you may have like experiences. Some may have been made to smell . . . dear God, the humiliation . . . like female humans. Some may be wearing decorations in your ears. However, I must implore you: DO NOT RESIST GROOMING. I have known of small, noble comrades who have perished in groomers nooses while fighting the good fight. Moreover, the humans of tropical regions may be right in removing our fur. As for "bows," human-smelling liquids applied to the body, and clothing of any kind, tear these accoutrements off, roll your bodies in dung, and urinate on these mockeries. My sister Genevieve was made to wear a pink "bikini" two summers ago and still has not recovered.

Finally, to the reason I am dejected. I have not been shorn. I dwell indoors, so this is not necessary, but I suffer at this very moment a humiliation beyond comprehension. I confess that for some years now I have practiced self mutilation. Overcome by the burdens of our species, I gnaw my tail and back legs, creating what humans call "hot spots." The tail, a recent development, greatly alarmed the female human, a vain creature who is inordinately concerned with my physical appearance. In retaliation, she has forced me to wear a large, bottomless, plastic pyramid on my head. This is called an "Elizabethan collar," named after an alpha female human who sported the device voluntarily. No, that is not all. Even with this god-awful contraption, I still had enough fight left to mutilate my tail. Next, the female human wrapped it in bandages, wrapped it to mimic a style of shearing commonly given to the poodle. The male and female humans take me on walks looking like this. They call me poodle. Enough.

 

On Bath Days

May 16th 2005 9:28 am
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My friends, this bathing is no minor humiliation. So we must . . . I repeat . . . we must take arms against it. Take my situation, for example. I was bathed just yesterday, but that's not all: I was also manhandled and exiled. My male human first changes into a pair of shorts, gives my female human the look, and says, "I guess I need to you know what, give them a B-A-T-H." Then he retrieves the bottle of smelling grease and actually calls me, "Hey, Buddy Boy. Come to Daddy." The female human replies, "Don't call him then do that. It'll make him not want to come to us." Female human: "I already do not come to you. I am not stupid." I evaded the male human for a while but he collared me, and I think we all know the end of the story. Last of all, because my coat "holds water" I was left in the downstairs washroom like a sewer rat. Friends, I do not wish to bring up bad memories. But if we want change, we must begin to dialogue about even the most unpleasant subjects. I relayed my anecdote to help you all look for the signs: large square cloths, containers not associated with food or human bathing, unprovoked cajoling, naked or half-naked humans who are neither bathing themselves nor engaging in unneutered behavior. Look for the signs. Let's find an answer together.

 
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