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Yaxley defends his adorableness

Posted on September 5, 2011 by Donna Black-Sword

There’s some buzz going around about Hurricane Irene. I’m hearing about impending cancelled flights and folk are scrambling to change their travel plans.

Oh [bad word here].  I just got to DC yesterday afternoon after struggling with United and their cancelled flights and there’s still a whole nuther action packed day of BlogPaws ’11 tomorrow.  Word on the street is that if you don’t get out of DC by noon tomorrow, then you’re in it for the long haul.

I have absolutely no plans to change my flight, I say. We’re going to skip out of here on a 10ish flight tomorrow night. And it’s that simple.  Don’t be jazzing me up with all this hurricane talk.  I’ve been looking forward to this whole conference for months and it was just way too much like work just to get here yesterday.

So yeah. During a break in my hotel room, I turn on the news channel. See the projected hurricane path in all its glory. The Husband calls with his concerns. My resolve starts to melt.  ugh.

My peripheral vision catches a paper as it’s slipped under my door. The hotel bill, I think. But no, it’s the emergency procedures in case of a power outage in the hotel.

Power outage? I’m on the 17th floor of the Sheraton.

With a dog.

Being a deep thinker, here are my options as I see things:

Plan A 

Keep my late night flight tomorrow and risk it being cancelled. I could finish the conference. But I could also be stranded at the airport. For who knows how long. With a dog.

Plan B

Change my flight to a Sunday departure and risk it being delayed until Monday. That means I’m toileting a dog in 70 mph hurricane winds (aim downwind, Yax honey).  And let’s not forget the power outage warning. 

Plan C

Leave DC tomorrow afternoon to get Yaxley and me home safe and sound.

Alrighty then. United.com, here we come.  Fine, we’ll catch a flight out tomorrow early afternoon, darn it all.

But tonight is ours. Yaxley and I decide to make the most of it.  We’re going to the movies!

Yax and I are off to see a premiere showing of Disney’s Spooky Buddies. Five golden retriever puppies in a Halloween adventure. Dressed in costumes! Score!

Spooky Buddies is the latest in a series of puppy adventures. Now how did this get past me? How could I not have known about the Buddies franchise?

(Image courtesy of Disney)

These are talking golden retriever puppies, for goodness sakes. Check your glucose levels, folk. We’re headin’ for a sugar rush.

B-Dawg, Budderball, Rosebud, Buddha, and Mudbud. Ridiculously adorable, the whole lot of them.

(Image courtesy of Disney)
(Image courtesy of  Disney)

Now I’ve survived sitting through some rather horrific kid movies (any Pokemon moms out there?) and have even taken a CCI pup to see a film.

But I’ve never been to a movie where the audience interacted by barking at the on-screen action. Now people, that’s what I call a good time. While Yaxley and his new corgi friends were sharing a nylabone, other dogs were watching the pups on screen and wanting to join in on the chase. Silly and fun. No thoughts of Hurricane Irene for a couple of fully entertaining hours.

The writer/director, Robert Vince, was on hand afterwards for a Q&A.  Ah, I’m in. I think I’m in  love with these Buddies. Nieces and nephews be forewarned; guess what you’re getting for Christmas? No, not a puppy. DVD’s, kids.

As if things couldn’t get any better, the Disney folk brought in a golden retriever pup in B-Dawg’s character. Live and in fur and available for a photo op. Completely jazzed, Yax and I took a number and stood in line only to find out that the photos are with people only. Sadly, no dogs allowed in with B-Dawg.  And since the camera insists on adding fifty pounds on me in every photo, we gave our regrets.

But you guys have to see this puppy. Just look at this, let your mind drift. You can almost smell the puppy breath from here.

Animal handler, Mark Forbes, with B-Dawg.
(photo courtesy Brad Smith Photography)

Oh, and yeah, that guy is the animal coordinator for the Buddies. That’s Mark Forbes, a much in demand animal handler in the film industry (Dr. Doolittle, 101 Dalmatians). Sure, he’s a famous guy and a pretty nice fellow, too. And that’s why I won’t hold the no-dogs-near-the-puppy rule against him.

But still.  Yaxley is just a bit unhinged about all the cooing over the bunny ears and all. He is insistent on maintaining his honor as the best looking dog in the room.  Any room, he says, it doesn’t matter. He needed the photo op to prove his point.

So we get one better. Yax puts his good looks up against all five golden retriever pups, plus a ghost beagle.

Hello, ladies. Look at the puppies, now back to me, now back
at the puppies, now back to me.

Sadly, they aren’t me, but if they were just outside
in the rain,  they could smell like they’re me.

Next post – chased home by a hurricane.

ADDENDUM Sept 16 2011

Ok, so it’s come to my attention that not everyone gets my Old Spice Guy reference in the Yaxley photo caption above. This, my friends, is where I was going with thought.

Hello, ladies. Look at your man. Now back to me . . 

Well played, Old Spice ad people. Still makes me laugh.

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Speaking of attitude

Posted on September 3, 2011 by Donna Black-Sword

Just as everyone has a story, we also all have a past that includes the occasional misdeed. Whether by choice or circumstance, some of us have endured more challenges than our neighbors.

Our adventures in puppy raising will bring us a handful of doggy behavior to work with.  Our pup may react to a sudden noise (grocery carts banging together) by jumping aside. But we’re told by the CCI trainers, it’s not so much the reaction as the recovery. If the pup is startled, but can collect himself and continue on with his handler, we consider that a good recovery. The dog has a strong character.

It’s not so simple with us though, is it? We can easily take some wrong turns in life. But, you know, it’s how we handle adversity that reveals our true character. Redemption is our recovery.


Applause for the “fear of heights” story



Yaxley and I are in the grand ballroom at the Sheraton for the first morning of BlogPaws ’11.  We’re introduced to keynote speakers Joe Panz and Big Ant. These two fellas are founding members of the Long Island-based animal advocate group Rescue Ink.  Impressive, well-spoken, seriously tattooed and maybe just a little bit intimidating. They have presence, as we say. As they talk and share stories of their work, we relax knowing that we’re all in agreement of the same goal here: educating people to save animals from abuse and neglect. Rescue Ink exists to protect those who can’t protect themselves.
These guys are willing to go into situations considered too risky for animal welfare employees. Joe Panz says they will conduct an animal rescue by any means necessary, keeping within the limits of the law (his lawyer makes him say that, he says). But why?
These otherwise tough guys with their own pasts of misdeeds are working towards their own redemption by being there for those who need them. These are good-hearted men who are visceral in their love of animals. They tell us about helping folk find the resources needed so they can keep their pets. And we heard a story about how they educated a fellow who was throwing cats off a building by instilling a new and profound fear of heights into the guy. 
But do I really agree with their means to an end? Yeah, I dunno. I’m still working that through my head. I’m not a city girl; I know I haven’t seen the depths of how cruel people can be to the helpless.  No argument then, that we need tough men and women like the Rescue Ink crew to be our voices. Thanks, guys, for doing what many of us just simply don’t have the intestinal fortitude to do. There’s just no excuse for animal cruelty.



Joe Panz and Big Ant of Rescue Ink.
It’s OK, Yaxley honey. They’re on our side.

Yaxley kinda has that “mommy?” look on his face with Big Ant holding his leash. After this shot, the two of them scooped him up and ruffled his ears. I had expected this to be the usual celebrity photo opp, with “OK, Next!”, but these guys just loved all over the yellow dog like they had all morning.  Nice.

Next blog post: Lunch!  Well, more than that.  We were invited to a Pawty!

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When dogs can fly

Posted on September 3, 2011 by Donna Black-Sword

I admit it, I love to people watch.  At the mall, restaurants, airports. All of us come with our own ready made stories, but we only show part of ourselves when out among the public arena.

So I entertain myself by making up stories for them. While I’ve got a little extra time at the Dayton Airport for my flight to Washington, DC there’s an open opportunity to check out my seat neighbors at the gate. 

I’m thinking that young guy a few seats over has three little girls at home; they’re just about a year apart in age. He’s bought them the complete American Girls doll collection. Because he doesn’t trust his wife with the credit cards since the great Zappos fiasco, he has to go online and pick out the accessories that will make his little pink princesses happy. However, he is feeling a little unsettled about the impending estrogen level that will hit his household in the next five years. He’s been considering the National Guard.

There’s a big fella at the next gate. AC/DC t-shirt and jeans, looking like he needs a cigarette. He loves the place he just bought out in farm country, but earlier this year he was traumatized by a squirrel who was surprised while hiding a food stash in his mailbox. The rodent actually jumped out and landed with four clawed paws on his chest, then used the poor guy’s noggin as a springboard to make his get-away. The fella made the poor choice to share this drama with his buddies at work. To show how much they care about his emotional rehabilitation, his friends are randomly stringing up stuffed animals in the guy’s locker so he’s greeted with a some kind of furry UFO when he opens the door. After ten years of abstinence, he’s now taken up smoking again.

And the 30-something dressed so nicely in a suit. Her untucked blouse is longer than her blazer. New kicky style or a result of the open barn door incident at the presentation she gave to the sales group in Chicago? She’s certainly not embarrassed to be on the cell phone in the ambiance of flushing toilets, but she probably needed both hands free to do that last zipper check before she walked to the lectern. Zipper paranoia is now her constant companion.

Then there’s that chick with the yellow dog. Well, that would be me. I have a story, as well.  I can make up stuff about our adventures, but here I think the truth will do just fine.

Yaxley and I are on our way to our first BlogPaws conference. A couple of days of hanging with fellow pet bloggers and attending sessions on how to do this blogging thing better. We’ve heard that there are somewhere about four hundred like-minded folk registered; many are bringing their pets.

My flight out of town has been cancelled twice so far today. Due to weather probs, I’m told. So, I’m a little edgy about my afternoon flight actually happening. Although, I’m making a conscience effort to keep from appearing visibly unhinged. I’m walking through the Dayton Airport with a dog and I want to show that, yes indeed, I do expect the have this dog on the plane with no trouble from anyone. Cowboy up, girl.  Show some attitude.


Luggage is larger than it appears. It sure as heck wasn’t
this small when I was dragging it through the airport. 



And it worked!  The TSA experience went smoothly, even though Yaxley’s collar bling set off the metal detector. He was hoping for a good solid pat down (don’t forget the belly rub), but it was not meant to be.
United Airlines gave us a warm welcome at the gate. The flight attendant fit us neatly into the bulkhead area and the young lady who was bumped back to my original seat was very gracious about it. I actually had this bulkhead seat selected, but that was two cancellations ago and I frankly just gave up trying.
How did Yaxley handle this adventure, you ask? Well, he was a rock star at the airport. Strutting his stuff right through TSA and to our gate. Talk about attitude. He wasn’t even trying. It just comes natural to this yellow pup.
He curled up by my feet and slept through most of the flight. Well, that would be true if my feet were on the floor. It was one of those itsy bitsy planes. There was only room for the dog or my feet, not both. So, the dog trumped. Yaxley only lifted his head near the end of the trip when the landing gear thumped into place. During the work week Yaxley is a true road dog on the drive to the office. Actually, he said the flight was a lot like my driving. Funny guy.
I’d never been to the Dulles airport and my surprise at the ridiculous size of the place turned into dismay as we took elevator after elevator to get to the ground transportation area.  Really, Dulles?  Five elevators to get to the train, then two more?  Each elevator only takes you down one floor? Scrapping my original plan to find a cheap shuttle to the hotel, when we finally made it out of the labyrinth I opted for the comfort of a cab. My former facade of confidence had by now transmogrified into a bring it on state of mind. Just try to say something about the dog in your cab, Mr. Taxi Guy, and see what that’s gonna get ya.  But I smile and just say the hotel name. He wisely nods, tosses the suitcase in the trunk and we go.  I remember that I’m now in DC and a dog is probably not even in the top ten of weird things that’s he’s driven through town.



We made it



Safe and sound at the Sheraton. The hotel gives us a tidy little gift bag, about the size that could hold a small jewelry box. I look inside to see two plastic capsules holding a poop bag each. And a pair of latex gloves. Ah, a warm welcome. 
nom-nom-nom



Just a heads up, Sheraton gift bag person, that while I can be counted on to pick up any and all #2’s presented by my dog, I do not, however, intend to perform any medical procedure on the stuff. Latex gloves?

Things are looking up at the BlogPaws registration table where we receive a huge swag bag of gifts from the pet company vendors in attendance. Yaxley has been doing such a perfect job all day, I give him the pink stuffed bear in the bag. I know it’s doomed.  A short-lived pleasure, but maybe Yaxley can carry the happy memory for a little while.
We sit, we watch. No imagined stories here, though. The real stuff is just too good. Yaxley is a social bridge for me as people come over to ask about who he is and then we talk about CCI for a while. We meet other pet passionate folk and learn about how they are saving one life at a time with their animal rescue work. I meet a super nice lady that turns about to be a Hill’s sales rep. I confess to her my allegiance to Eukanuba, but we agree we can still be friends. 




Nice place, says Yaxley.
Now grab those gloves, Food Lady, I gotta go.



Because the BlogPaws folk know their audience so well, there’s a dog park set up in one of the large conference rooms.  Professional pet sitters are on site to keep an eye on your precious pooch for those who want to go out to dinner and such. 
Yaxley has been on the job since the morning, with no real break all day. He’s done an absolutely stellar job; I’m very proud of how he’s handled the day’s adventures. I hang out in the dog play area to watch him release some energy and just be a dog for a while.
Yaxley has claimed a toy and the coveted
bed as his very own.
That was about all the fun we could fit into one day.  More BlogPaws adventures coming up in the next posts.

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Puparazzi

Posted on August 1, 2010 by Donna Black-Sword
Webster Street Market
Yeah, I’m with the band
Traveling around with Micron is kinda like hanging with a celebrity. I noticed this phenomena with our first CCI dog and it’s the same with this pup.
Walking through public spots with a caped dog by my side I hear whispered remarks. We’re hard wired to notice whispers, I think. Unless someone calls my name, I really don’t hear conversations as I pass by folk. But a shishy shush comment perks the ears. 
Ok, so try this out. Think of a hot rock star; anyone you like. And for each time in the next paragraph you see a reference to “dog”, replace with your rock star’s name . . .

As I’m walking through the Farmers Market with Micron, I overhear things like “did you see that Dog!?” or “a lady with a Dog just walked by”. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone peek around a corner who says “holy cow, you’re right! There is a Dog over there.” It’s like they’re too shy to come up and talk to me and the Dog. 

So it’s pretty great when folk will stop and talk to us instead of about us. I love it when someone asks if it’s ok to pet Micron because it opens the opportunity to talk about what we’re doing for CCI. I think it’s way better than hanging out with Bon Jovi or something. But hey, that’s just me.

Dayton Dragons Baseball
An American werewolf in London
Ok, so he’s closer to a yellow dog in downtown Dayton.
Speaking of out and about, we brought Micron to walk around at the annual Celtic Festival. I wanted to hang a nickname on him that would make him feel like a Scot, but nothing clever came to mind. Mikey doesn’t sound Scottish, Irish, Welsh or anything even close. He’s an all American dog, so we embraced this heritage by hugging a huge baseball. Here’s one proud California blonde.
We did manage a photo op with a fellow who seemed pretty authentic to me. If he’s not a Scot, he sure as heck owns the look anyhow. Here he is working his Celtic charms on Micron. The dog looks rather blissful.

Dayton, Oh is a river city and is partly bordered by the Great Miami River. Before we got all modernized and everything Dayton had canals in the downtown area for commerce. Legend has it they were actually rather nasty and cesspool-ish. But today in the electronic age, we prefer to think of the former canal streets as a quaint old idea. ‘Tis a much happier way of thinking. For a parting shot, here’s Micron posing in front of a beautifully restored canal near Monument Street.
Sorry kid, we’re not going swimming

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