Bingo

I was greeted by an unfamiliar sight as I climbed the stairs to the house in Truk. It's body was the size of a twenty ounce bottle of water, it had the roundest, most striking hazel eyes, topped by the biggest bat ears you ever saw on that little body. It barked alarmingly at first, but one could barely be afraid of such a cute and tiny voice. "His name is Bingo," said Yaya.

Hello Bing-bing-bing-bingo. I love-love-love-love you already!

He couldn't be more than nine weeks old. He's curious, fearless, full of energy, and bites-bites-bites-bites with those needle sharp baby teeth. (That's why I gave him that coconut to gnaw on.)

And, most importantly, he still has that sweet-sweet-sweet-sweet puppy breath.

Aw, sweet, darling, naughty-naughty-naughty-naughty Bingo. How I wish I could take you with me!

Will you remember me next time I visit? I'll let you sleep in my laundry hamper all you want.

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If Distress Had a Monetary Value

Let me preface with a childhood memory that has nothing to do with animals: my Uncle D, MJ's grandpa, was a bookkeeper in Truk. He and my ma worked together, and I visited - more like, bothered - them almost daily. One day, as I sat at Ma's feet, practicing my numbers and alphabets (I had to have been in the first grade then) an employee of the company came in to see Uncle D. He presented half of a twenty dollar bill, asking Uncle D to give him a new bill to replace it.

"Where's the other half?" Uncle D asked, baffled.

The islands teem with mosquitos. If your windows had no screens, or if you slept outside, mosquito spray would have been futile. There was no Off lotion back in the day, so the next best thing to keep the biting menaces away when you slept was Senco, a green coil of incense of some sort that repelled mosquitos. This employee set his money next to the Senco holder, and apparently when the incense burned to its butt, the remaining ember fell onto the money, thus burning it in half.

Twenty bucks thirty-two years ago was like a hundred bucks today. Imagine the employee's distress at such a loss!

And now, on to dog talk, let me state for the record that I love Preacher and Sonya. They are my companions, my protectors, and my responsibility. It will take a heinous act on their part for me to even consider giving them up. They are the sweetest, most loving, naughty Doberman Pinschers you'll ever know. I love them, have I said that already? But sometimes, I find it such a challenge to justify how much I love them.

Yesterday, for instance. It was a glorious day out, and we all spent it outside. 5-Star and me doing yard work, and the dogs gnawing on bones in the backyard, and occasionally getting into a tissy fit with each other over a bone.

 5-Star and I had to go on a hardware run, so we put the dogs inside the house with free run.

We took longer than an hour. But that's no excuse for this...

And especially this...

I knew right away who'd done this. I think.

Preachiiiiiiiiiiie! What the... !

I tried my best to make things right, because I love Preacher.

I love my Preacher Man...

How I love thee, Preachie, let me count the... dollars.

But what am I to do with this...

Preacher did leave this bill intact. I guess I'll buy a KitKat bar to console myself.

Ugh, the distress of losing a hundred bucks is great indeed.



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Whitey's First (Human) Bed

I don't know who was happier to see the other, me or Whitey. And of course, without skipping a beat, she assumed her sleeping position on her own bed next to me at night.

It's summer in the Philippines, and the day time temperatures climb to 93F. Not even a dip in the pool could cool us off, so we hung out in the coolness of the bedroom during most of the day. It was the first of many firsts for Whitey during this visit.

First, she weasled her way onto the bed, standing over my laptop...

Any attempt to push her off the bed was in vain. She just sat there like a stubborn donkey...

Did I mention she was just like a stubborn donkey?

And the next thing I knew, for the first time in her two years, she laid in her humans' bed, nestling in as if that's where she had always belonged. 

And for the first time, we discovered that Whitey, like Preacher and Sonya, loves dirty socks and underwear!

Yeah, as if...  Socks and underwear, no less!

I Don't Want to Know

Yesterday, before the torrential rain began to pour, Sonya and Preacher were outside enjoying what they didn't know to be the last dry day for the next four days. Sonya found a bone, and started going to town on it. I had a ball for Preacher, but he didn't want anything to do with it. He wanted the bone.

*Netty, may I get a bone too?*

No, there's only one bone.

*Netty, may I pleeeease have a bone?*

Understand Preach, there is only one bone! As if he understood the logic I was dishing out.

*I'll sit. I'll do anything you say. Puh-leeeeeeeez, give me a bone!*

Do you think Preacher is capable of having human thoughts? I can just imagine what he's thinking...

 

*Up yours then! I don't want a stupid bone!*

Lo, the canine gives me the finger! Er, the toe.

Truth be told, Preach is too soft hearted to be so vulgar. That extended toe is medically referred to as a "slipped toe". The ligament (or ligaments) that pulls the toe tight must have torn during one of Preachie's scuffles with Sonya. It happens. 

It won't affect his ability to walk, run, jump, you know things dogs do. It just looks very dramatic because Doberman Pinschers have naturally tight paws, like those of a cat's. Thank goodness his show career is no more, huh. No worries, Dr. Jessica says that a slipped toe is not going to hinder him from performing. In fact, Preacher doesn't even show any discomfort or pain.

So next time I don't give Preacher what he wants, I won't take it too personally when he says  *Speak to the toe, 'cause I don't want to know!*

My Preachie would never give me the toe! 

Would he?

Spoiled and Spoiled

Sonya and Preacher. Sister and brother. Spoiled and spoiled. Don't let those dejected faces and half-mast ears fool you. They act like they don't get enough to eat, but that's just a ploy to get table scraps.

Preacher, the drooler. The smell of cooking alone can get that fire hydrant going. He'll eat anything. Anything! Blue berries, oranges, spinach, peas. Anything! Again, don't let those sad eyes fool you, it's a ploy to get you to give him a piece of cheesecake.

That's her royal highness Sonya, wearing my sweater,  As you can see, she doesn't lack for food. She doesn't lack for attention either.

See, that's Preacher grooming her. Because she tells him to groom her. "Or else I'll bite your ears and Scotty won't do anything about it!"

Sonya is so full of herself. She thinks she's nature's gift to all dogkind.

"Netty, does this sweater make me look fat?"

How can I say "yes" to those sad puppy eyes?

*No, you don't Sonya."

Spoiled, spoiled dogs!

Best In Show The End

The dogs at the dog show are the best of the best. They were meticulously bred to conform to physical standard, for health and sound temperament, and to continue the integrity of the breed with genetic pedigree. The puppies were loved and cared for from the moment they were born, trained, nurtured, and cherished even after they cross the rainbow bridge. They receive ribbons in recognition of accomplishments in physical perfection, intelligence, and prowess. Their pictures are taken to commemorate a milestone.

Cane Corso, Working Group

All ribbons, photos, and pedigrees aside, we humans love our furry family.

Poodle, Non-Sporting Group

   Afghan Hound, Hound Group

 Irish Setter, Sporting Group

 Poodle, Non-Sporting Group

 Clumber Spaniel (baby), Sporting Group

And our dogs love us, unconditionally, to the end.

 

 Boxer, Goofy, er, I mean Working Group

 

The End

Best in Show Part 4

Focus

My favorite events at a dog show are Obedience Trials and Agility Trials in that order. Both sports take a lot of preparation, devotion, consistency, and focus between the handler and the dog. A dog that gazes with such intensity into his/her master's eyes is most likely an obedience or agility dog.

Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Toy Group

Golden Retriever, Sporing Group

Poodle, Toy Group

Here is where the focus and eye contact come into play. This exercise is called the Drop On Recall. At the judge's cue, the handler leaves the dog at one end of the ring, and positions her/himself at the other end.

The handler calls the dog, but before the dog gets to her, she orders the dog to drop into the down position.

At the judge's cue, the handler calls the dog again, into the "front" position, where the dog sits squarely at the feet of the handler.

Portuguese Water Dog, Working Group

The exercise finishes where the dog get's into heel position, square at the handler's left side.

Belgian Tervuren, Herding Group

"Heel" position is where the dog stays square at the handler's left side, whether stationary or in motion, turning left, right, about face.

Can you see now the importance of eye contact during this exercise?

Another exercise is the Sit and Stay, and Down and Stay. The dogs are lined up at one side of the ring, and at the judge's cue the handlers leave their dogs in the sitting or laying positions. They leave the ring for three minutes, out of sight.

As you can see, the Manchester Terrier does not pass this Sit and Stay exercise.

In this Down and Stay exercise, the Golden Retriever is obviously to anxious to stay down. While the Border Collie is totally at ease even in the absence of her handler. Did the lack of eye contact cause the Manchester and the Golden to lose their focus? Hmmmm...

The sport of Agility is an obstacle course with various apparatus that challenge the dog's acrobatic ability. The team competes to run the course as fast as they can. And of course, the dog will only know which hurdle to jump, which chute to go through, and when to weave through the poles by watching the handler's cues.

Standard Poodle, Non-Sporting Group

These sports require such intense focus!