The Amazing Adventures of Biscuit

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7th Birthday

October 5th 2010 9:17 am
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Yesterday was my 7th Birthday and I have to say it was a great day. I got lots of birthday wishes from everyone at home and on FB and Dogster. The best present of all is having so many friends that love me. :)

For my birthday I got 2 new Skineeez dog toys, which I love, and a HUGE bag of dried liver treats, which are my favourite. Mommy grilled Angus cheeseburgers for Dylan and I and then sang me happy birthday. I jumped up repeatedly on her while she was singing and barked for her to hurry up, but she insisted on finishing the song. BOL. The burger was fantastic and I gobbled mine up faster than Scooter could!

Later, Mommy gave me the new chipmunk Skineez. We have real chipmunks at the cottage which I'm obsessed with (I will catch one!), so this was just great. Unfortunately, when Mommy stepped out of the room for a couple minutes, my bratty brother stole my new baby from me! He proceeded to eat the head and three of the legs off it! I was so mad. Mommy came in and took it away from him and gave it back to me. I took my baby and curled up in my fuzzy blanket and proceeded to groom it. Dylan came over after a bit and started pawing me in the head! I told him off but good. Suddenly, the warm burgers in our bellies took over and we both curled up together and passed out cold for a couple hours. Then Daddy came home and I wrestled with him, which was fun.

Love,
Biscuit

 

You want to put that valium where???

November 17th 2008 3:12 pm
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We just got back from seeing the vet. I love her - she's the greatest! Anyways, she says it sounds like I might be developing petit mal seizures. Usually dogs develop them between ages 1 and 3, and I'm 5, but she says I'm still young enough to be developing epilepsy. The vet said that my seizures seem relatively mild and that since I've only had two known ones within 3 months, that I don't have to worry about taking medications. Mom is going to keep a journal of when I am possibly having a seizure and if it gets to where I'm having more than one a month, we'll talk meds. She says right now the long-term side effects from the medications wouldn't be worth it. Mom agrees, so she and daddy will just keep an eye on me when I have one and as long as I wake up in under 10 minutes, then I don't have to go to a vet.

I learned today that you can get a bottle of valium that they squirt up your butt to stop a seizure? Mom started laughing and said there's no way I'd allow that, unconscious or otherwise. I have to ask my friend, Jebbers about this. BOL. We didn't get the valium because it would likely expire by the next time I seize. That and Mommy is more likely to medicate herself or Daddy with it than me. BOL

 

Is this a seizure?

November 13th 2008 5:50 pm
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Biscuit had another "seizure" tonight around 7 pm EST. It's not exactly a seizure in the sense of falling over shaking and she doesn't have the pre-seizure nervousness or after seizure upset. I don't know what to call it. You may remember she had an incident about two months ago at the dog park.

I was sitting in the kitchen waiting for dinner to arrive, when suddenly I noticed Biscuit pooping on the floor next to me! Now if this were Jovi, I wouldn't be worried () but Biscuit just doesn't do this. It was weird how she was going to - not pushing it out, rather it was just happening. The minute it stopped, she stumbled a couple steps to Dylan's dog bed and literally fell over onto her side. She was stiff and pretty much non-responsive. We waived our hands in front of her open eyes, but it was like she couldn't see us. It was about 10 minutes before she started to come around and respond to our voices.

It took another 20 minutes before she would stand, but then she wouldn't walk or move. Chris held her to him for a while because she felt rather cold. She seemed very weak and tired. She's not in any obvious pain, there's no swelling any where, no drooling this time. Her pulse is okay, her gums were pale, but the colour is better now and when you press on them, the blood comes back quickly. She did vomit about 10 or 15 minutes ago - brought up a lot of food. I had a cover over her since she was cool, but she's just kicked that off, gotten up and moved,which is good.

The only reason I didn't rush her to the vet is because something similar happened before, she's had extensive phsycial tests and bloodwork and is in excellent health, and because I know she hasn't ingested anything (she has been in my sight since I let her out - about an hour before this happened).

Tomorrow morning I am calling her vet and talking to her about this. We're wondering if there is some external stimulus that is causing a weird seizure - if that is what this is.

For now, she's sleepy, but otherwise okay.

Biscuit's Mommy

 

Agggh - tagged again!

November 12th 2008 4:45 pm
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4 JOBS THAT I HAVE:

1. Protector of the home and street.

2. I keep my brother, Dylan, in line

3. I snuggle with Mommy at night and keep her warm

4. I ride shotgun on our weekend truck rides and make sure Daddy doesn't get lost.

4 PLACES I HAVE LIVED AT (OR STAYED);

I live at home and have stayed at pet resorts, the vet's, and a few hotels.

4PLACES I HAVE BEEN:

1. Schumi's house in Montreal

2. The weenigos house in Boston

3. Jovi's house in Staten Island, NY

4. Grandma's house

4 PLACES I'D RATHER BE:

1. curled up with Mommy

2. at the dog park

3. on a truck ride

4. at Grandma's with my puppy cousins

7 THINGS ABOUT ME ARE

1. I'm a girl, but lots of people think I'm a boy because I'm very athletic

2. I am a dominant beagle and don't take crap from any pup, no matter how big they are.

3. I free feed - I never over eat and I don't let Dylan overeat either.

4. The people picked me out of the litter because I crawled out of the nest and went over and undid Mommy's sneakers.

5. I love liver treats!

6. I love everyone I meet and love to give kisses.

7. When I get a treat I like to roll around on top of it and play pounce with it before I eat it.

Now, it's my turn to tag 7 friends...let's see....I tag:

Jovi
Jimmy
Schumi
Jelly Bean
Troopy (cooties!!)
Postal
Cedar

 

Count Down to the Big Apple!

October 7th 2008 8:09 pm
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On Friday, the people and I are making the trip to New York to meet up with my friends Jovi, Trudy and Scooter, and Murphy. I am so very excited!!

Mom said that I have to look good because New Yawkers are sophisticated, so I couldn't go with my white fur stained green from rolling in the grass. I don't see what the problem is, but she took me to the groomers. They bathed me! It was horrible. I knew that Mom was still looking around in the store at the front, so when they put me in the tub with the water I howled and made a huge fuss, hoping Mommy would rescue me. No such luck. I must admit that my fur is lovely and soft and I smell fabulous (well, not as good as if I'd rolled in something stinky and organic), but I will never like being bathed.

Dylan is going to stay at a pet resort while we're gone. Daddy is feeling very guilty about leaving him behind and has ordered him the extra large room with daily brushings, walks, daily stuffed kongs and extra treats, one-on-one play time with staff, and if that wasn't enough, the big lug is getting TWO holiday turkey dinners!! It's Canadian Thanksgiving on Monday, so Dylan will be enjoying roasted turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots and kernel corn! He could even have gotten bacon, eggs and bagels for breakfast, but Mom agreed that was a little much. Dylan wouldn't want to come home! All our Snoop friends have generously offered to stay with Dylan at the resort and keep him family. They're a swell group!

Now I just have to pick which collar to wear to New York!

 

I had a seizure!

September 20th 2008 10:01 am
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This morning the people took us for a truck ride and then to the new puppy park in Milton. It was great. We ran around playing with other dogs and having a great old time. Dylan ran out of steam fast, so we weren't there more than a half hour. Mom said that we should go home and she looked at me and said to Daddy, "Biscuit looks like she's going to fall over she's so tired." Then as I walked towards her, she realized I really was going to fall over! I was walking really oddly and favouring a back leg. Thinking it was a stone or something, Daddy picked me up annd they checked my paws, but they were fine. I wasn't crying or showing any signs of pain, so he put me back down.

Well then I started favouring the other back leg and kind of stumbling. A few seconds later, I kept lifting my front paw as well. It was like I was favouring the legs or the muscles had contracted and I couldn't put them down! So Daddy carried me to the car and we started to drive off. I was feeling very weak, but I put my head out the window to sniff the air. Suddenly I went completely limp and only didn't fall down because I was propped against the window. All the colour was gone from my face (weird, I know) and it looked very sunken in. My eyes were bulging and my mouth foamed up like mad and I was drooling like a tap left on!!

The people were totally freaked out and scared and Daddy sped to the nearest vet's office. Mom put the air conditioning on in case I was over heating (wasn't dehydrated - no skin tenting, belly warm, but not overly hot) but I was still not really responding to them. When Daddy carried me into the vets, I was still weak, but able to stand and then was obviously getting better by the time the vet saw me.

The vet checked me out and said that my heart, lungs, gums, trachea and neurological reflexes are all fine (he laughed because I got annoyed with him when he kept bending my paw). He says I had a seizure, but he doesn't know why. The vet said that I am in great shape phsyically and he can't see anything wrong. He gave me an anti-inflamatory shot, just in case, and then ran a geriactic blood test on me so that they can get a full profile of my hormones and other stuff. I was very annoyed - geriatric? I'm not even 5 yet!

I am feeling much better now. On the way home I was hanging out the window and shrieking at a couple of punks in the car next to us who were smoking. They pissed me off. Then I ran around the house and drank some water. The vet said he will call Daddy with the test results, so we'll know then.

Mom says she's never been so scared in her life, except for maybe that time when I got food poisoning at the dog resort.

 

New dog park!

August 27th 2008 6:35 pm
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Tonight Mommy took Dylan and I to the new off-leash park in Milton. It was a bit hard to find, as it's kind of hidden, but it was worth the drive.

It's not as big as our old park, but it's a good size - 2 acres. Dylan and I were so excited that the minute Mom unhooked our leashes we tore off. It was so much fun running around on the thick grass and meeting all the new pups. There were so many to play with! There were a bunch of labbies that Dylan had fun with and I enjoyed playing with a young GSD and some other pups.

We had so much fun and ran so much that we actually wore ourselves out in under an hour. BOL. Mommy asked if we wanted to go home and Dylan and I both ran for the gate, whereas we usually make Mommy chase us for 20 minutes. BOL. I'm hoping that we'll get to go again soon!

 

Busy Summer

July 24th 2008 6:48 pm
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Well it's been ages since I've last written in the diary and so much has gone on this summer that I figured I'd better make an entry.

We went to Woofstock in June, which was so much fun! Dylan and I met lots of great dogs and came home with tons of goodies. It was really hot out, so we couldn't stay as long as we usually do, but it was a great excuse to go swimming in the big fountain. I waded in, since I'm not big on water, but Dylan and the other big doggies had a ball splashing about.

Last Sunday I went and met up with Snowy the mini poodle, who used to be a moderator here on Dogster. I heard that he and his peeps would be in town and I knew I had to meet him. What a thrill it was to meet Snowy in person. He is such a cute little guy and was so friendly. He have me lots of kisses and I was particularly taken with him. His Daddy took lots of photos of us which he will send to Mommy so she can add them to our page. I think Snowy is a model, because he knows to sit still for the camera and smile! Snowy's peeps were very nice and I was happy to give his Mommy lots of kisses.

On Tuesday evening I came down with limp tail (otherwise known as limber tail, or retriever/beagle tail syndrome). Mom thinks it's because we got bathed at the dog wash on Saturday. Either way, I was feeling kind of run down, like having the flu, and my tail was very limp and hanging down between my legs. I'm a very alpha girl, so mom knew right away something was wrong because I always carry my tail straight up and it's usually wagging. The base of my tail was sore to touch, even though I wasn't in pain - just uncomfortable. Mom was going to take me to the vet after work the next day, but when she got home, even though I'd been ill at lunch, I was perfectly fine at 5 pm! I trotted out of my crate wide awake, tail held straight up in the air and wagging hard like nothing had happened. Mommy was amazed and so was the vet's office. What can I say? I'm a tough cookie. BOL

This August we are going to the Snoops meetup near Cleveland and I can hardly wait. I will get to meet so many of my good friends! I will remember to post the photos for that for sure!

Kisses,
Biscuit

 

Interesting article

May 8th 2007 5:34 pm
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Mommy found this article today which she thought was interesting. She says she's going to give it a try. I hate to tell her this, but Ceasar Milan never met me. BOL.

*******************************


human guinea pig
The Dog That Didn't Bark
Can I cure my sociopathic beagle with the Dog Whisperer's techniques?
By Emily Yoffe
Posted Tuesday, Sept. 12, 2006, at 12:34 PM ET



"This is not just pissing. This is dissing." That's what my husband concluded when I called him over to examine my discovery that the pattern on the Oriental rug in the living room was dissolving. One sniff revealed the solvent was dog pee, and lifting up the saturated corner showed concentric rings of dried urine. I had long believed our 6-year-old beagle, Sasha, was housebroken, but it turned out she was slyly indulging in this forbidden hobby right under our less-than-keen noses.

I knew my husband was right that Sasha wasn't doing this out of physical need—I let her out about 10 times a day. It was because she had no respect for us. Where did we go wrong? She had come to us as a pathetically skittish stray from a rescue group. To compensate for her bad, but unknown, past, I tried to give her endless affection. This was getting harder to do as I started thinking of her as a bladder that barked.

And carpet-bombing was only one of our problems. Among them:

To prepare her dinner (yes, prepare) I sliced up a tube of sausage-like dog food imported from New Zealand. During this process she barked at me with such ferocity that I felt like Mel Gibson's arresting officer.

Each time any of us went to the front door, she tried to bolt onto the street—she had survived once being hit by a car and apparently wanted to try it again.

I was no longer taking her for walks, she was taking me for yanks. She wrenched my shoulder out of its socket in her relentless dash to sniff pee-mails left by other dogs.

A recent development was that during these walks, if another dog came along, she lunged and foamed at it while I assured the dog's owner, "She's really friendly!"

If I called her name, she ran in the opposite direction.

When I complained about Sasha to dog-owning friends, they encouraged me to watch the Dog Whisperer, the hit show on the National Geographic Channel. On it, Cesar Millan, a self-taught "dog psychologist," took the hardest cases—dogs so bad they were on their way to death row—and reformed them, sometimes in minutes. Millan, who also has a best-selling book, Cesar's Way, has become so famous that he's been favorably profiled in the New Yorker and scathingly attacked in a New York Times op-ed. I decided to make Millan the subject of my latest Human Guinea Pig—the column in which I try unusual, sometimes self-defeating, projects. And nothing seemed more self-defeating than trying to turn around Sasha. But following the precepts of Millan's videos and book, I would see if this new dog god could make her into a decent pet.

It wasn't as if we hadn't tried. Our first trainer was from the all-positive-reinforcement school. There were no reprimands, only rewards. Each time Sasha did something I wanted her to—sit, come, lay down, I was to give her a treat. Sasha was apparently supposed to intuit that because she didn't get a piece of liver when she peed on the rug, that rug-peeing was bad. This required a subtlety of mind Sasha lacked. I also didn't understand why it was all right to say "no" to a human child who was doing something naughty but considered abuse to say it to a dog.

Our next trainer, Todd, had a more blunt approach to dog management. He believed unhousebroken dogs should be in their crate until they earned roaming privileges. He administered brief, but firm, corrections. He taught me how to make Sasha heel on walks. He got Sasha about halfway to being a good dog, when, terribly, Todd committed suicide. After his death, I couldn't face starting with someone else, so I let Sasha drift into our current mess.

To "Cesarize" Sasha, I first started watching past episodes of the show. They were addictively entertaining, as any makeover show is. Millan is small and muscular, with deep set eyes of coal. He uses these dark embers to expressive effect whenever clients start nattering excuses about the emotional needs of their out-of-control dogs. He does not see himself as a traditional dog trainer—teaching your pooch how to obey spoken commands or do tricks. His mission is to make human and dog head-cases into compatible living companions. (His motto: "I rehabilitate dogs. I train people.") And there are head cases galore. Take the woman willing to let her fiance walk out of her life because she refused to restrain her man-hating pit bull. Or the couple unable to enjoy conjugal relations because their Labrador insisted on sleeping between them and became hostile when moved.

Millan was on to people like us. One woman, whose rescued sheltie barked incessantly, said she didn't want to discipline her dog because she was trying to make up for its unhappy puppyhood. Millan explained to her, "Dogs don't care what happened in the past. They don't know you feel sorry for them. They just know you're weak."

Millan's method is to teach strength. To get your dog to behave, you first have to change your own behavior. You have to become the "calm-assertive" pack leader. Once you adopt this posture, thousands of years of canine DNA will signal Fido he's no longer top dog, and he will respond with an attitude of what Millan calls "calm-submission." Millan demonstrates this on every show. He stands in front of a misbehaving dog and says something that sounds like "sssstttt!" As you watch, pit bulls almost instantly turn into teddy bears, and the owners exclaim, "It's a miracle!"

Of course, my first goal was to get Sasha to stop peeing in the house. Disconcertingly, I could find no reference for "housebreaking" or "soiling" in the index of Millan's book. Instead, I figured I could use the "sssstttt" method to end her barking when I prepared her dinner. That night, as I cut up her meat, she ran into the kitchen and barked and jumped as usual. I turned to her, said, "Sssstttt," and she fell silent for a moment. Then I started cutting and she began barking again. I stopped and calmly faced her. She quieted down. Back and forth we went until she was quiet long enough for me to finish and drop the food in her bowl. The next night, all I had to do was turn and look at her when she started barking and she stopped. By the end of the week, she was silent during meal preparation, and since then has sat and waited politely.

Next, I was inspired by an episode of the Dog Whisperer in which Millan helped people with a dog that constantly ran out the front door. Again the fix was simple. Millan stood in front of the door, opened it, and when the dog came running he put up an index finger and said, "Sssstttt." The dog stopped as if hit by a taser. This will never work for Sasha, I thought. The next morning I opened the front door wide and Sasha came running. But instead of tackling her and grabbing her collar as I usually would, this time I stood in front of the open door, held up my index finger and said, "Sssstttt." She sat.

I shut the door and called my husband and daughter. I repeated the process, and as Sasha sat, looking at me as if awaiting instruction, my husband exclaimed, "It's a miracle!"

Now it was time to reform Sasha's walking habits. To Millan, the essence of the human-dog relationship is the walk. On the walk, he explains, the owner is re-enacting the ancient dog ritual of following its leader as the pack roams the countryside. This requires the human to keep the dog in its hierarchical place by having it walk behind or next to you—never in front.

I was dreading this. On our usual walks, I wrapped the leash around my hand and held it taut as Sasha pulled past me. I now understood I was transmitting my anxiety through the leash to Sasha like a nerve to a synapse. According to Cesar, I had to hold the leash loose and relaxed, sending the signal to her that I was serenely in control. What followed was days of lurching as she pulled away, I reeled her back, then gave her a "sssstttt" as I placed her behind me. Gradually, she started to understand. About two weeks into it, I took my daughter to the school playground and let Sasha come along. Normally, letting go of Sasha's leash meant saying goodbye to Sasha. But as we stood in the partially enclosed playground, I decided to give Sasha some freedom. I dropped the leash, and instead of running off, she kept close as she sniffed the periphery of the playground. When it was time to go, I called her name and she did something unprecedented. She looked up at me, held my gaze, then walked slowly toward me. Yes, a miracle.

I had successfully established myself as Sasha's pack leader, Millan would say. He paints a picture of Edenic packs of dogs on marathon, migratory journeys for food, guided by a leader of perfect strength and grace. But studies I looked at say such beliefs make the common mistake of confusing the lives of dogs and wolves. While wolves form highly evolved packs for raising young, and for the complicated task of hunting, dogs in the wild don't. Dogs aren't hunters, they're scavengers. Biologist Raymond Coppinger studied the behavior of dogs that wandered a village in Pemba, an island off Tanzania. In Dogs, he writes that they didn't hunt and wasted little motion looking for food. Instead, leaderless, they hung around the town dumps "waiting for something dead to show up." A study of feral dogs in Italy published in The Domestic Dog found that because dogs lack the complicated social structure of wolves, "the term 'group' seems more appropriate than pack." So, Sasha was not responding to my newfound status as alpha dog. As a domesticated animal bred to respond to humans, she was responding to my newfound status as a person tired of being bossed around by a beagle. I was responding to the fact that however wrong Millan may have gotten the science, I could now take Sasha on pleasant walks, leash held loose, while she sociably checked out the aromas of her compatriots.

One night, about a month into the retraining, Sasha jumped on the bed while my husband and I were reading, presenting herself to be patted. My husband said that she seemed like a different dog. The transformation was as dramatic as a Goth teenager getting rid of the black eyeliner and piercings and deciding to try out for cheerleading. Even my 10-year-old daughter was noticing. We had gotten Sasha as a result of her lobbying, but Sasha had been so neurotic and unresponsive that my daughter once called her "the biggest mistake of my life." But now they were playing, and my daughter could take her for walks. "She's not paranoid anymore," my daughter observed. "She's like a real pet."

Although I watched many episodes of the Dog Whisperer, I never saw one that dealt with my major Sasha problem—peeing on the carpet. But that's OK. It's been three months since our experiment began. Since then, the carpet has been dry.

Emily Yoffe is the author of What the Dog Did: Tales From a Formerly Reluctant Dog Owner. You can send your Human Guinea Pig suggestions or comments to emilyyoffe@hotmail.com.

Article URL: http://www.slate.com/id/2149364/
Copyright 2007 Washingtonpost.Newsweek Interactive Co. LLC

 

Message to Buddy's Bullets

February 21st 2007 7:37 am
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Were gonna win
Dont wanna be a loser - gonna win
Cuz winnin really is the only thing
Get out of the way were comin in
If ya wanna fight just step inside the ring
Does anybody wanna take a swing?
Its gotta be all or nothing
Oh were gonna be the champions
Ya were goin all the way - were gonna win win

Were gonna win
Forget about a draw - were gonna score
And then were gonna get a few more
Maybe another one just to be sure
Well make ya look just like an amateur
Until the final whistle its a war
And then were gonna pick ya off the floor
We wanna hear the crowd really roar
Ya - were comin in were gonna win win

Were gonna win - we wanna win
Cuz number one is everything
Were gonna win - we wanna win
Were gonna be the champions
Were gonna win

 
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