HOLISTIC CARE FOR PETS

My good friend Marlene has sent this interesting article for your perusal. Alternative approaches to pet health, including Reiki, is available. Check out this very informative site and hear Bobbi Pollack on Blog Radio on May 31st and in person on June 1st at the Gay Center. Details can be found @ http://www.bobbisholisticcare.com/

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAMERON!!! THANK YOU FOR THIS LOVELY STORY

To all my dog loving friends.

A Dog's Purpose (From a 6-year-old)

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.'

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, 'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The six-year-old continued, 'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'

Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.

Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

---

BROADWAY BARKS

JOIN FOUNDERS BERNADETTE PETERS AND MARY TYLER MOORE AND A VAST ARRAY OF TALENTED SUPPORTERS FROM 3:30-6:30 p.m. HAVE A GLORIOUS DAY AND ENJOY THE SIGHTS AND SOUNDS. OPEN YOUR HEART, YOUR PURSE STRINGS, AND MAYBE EVEN YOUR HOME TO THE WONDERFUL ANIMALS THAT TOO WILL BE THERE. http://broadwaybarks.com

One of my favorite charities. Go to the site and see what our talented stars are doing to help fight in this uphill battle. http://broadwaycares.com

YEA LIKE MY EARS FELL OFF...N O T !!!

Bring back the old broad. Even nuns in NYC curse. McCain called his wife the "C" word and he's compared to Jesus.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTWLtFokYFE

GLUTEN INTOLERANT-PET FOOD INFO

Marlene has been kind enough to forward this information. Please check out the site.
http://www.the-gluten-free-chef.com/pet-nutrition.html

TEDDY DIAGNOSED

Senator Ted Kennedy's doctors have found a malignant tumor in the left sphere of his brain. This outstanding spokesman for the people will hopefully fight this aggressive cancer as he has fought for us for over forty years in the Senate. May the good graces shine on him and his family at this trying time.

"PRINCE CHARLES" A SHORT STORY

PRINCE CHARLES

"What the hell were you thinking?" I cried incredulously. Mary looked at me and shrugged. At that moment, it streaked past us with lightning speed.

"I really didn't think he'd run," Mary feebly attempted to explain. In her right hand she held an empty leash. "He's a goddamn greyhound! What the shit did you think he'd do?" She couldn't provide an answer. Just then, our attention was diverted back to the black bullet circling the back of our property. If only it would aim and target the deck on which we were standing. But, no such luck.

"You know he's so timid. He's afraid of his own shadow. I never imagined he would bolt," Mary reasoned. "He's a greyhound!" I repeated in a shrill tone, "Not one of our decrepit crippled dogs." "Well what do we do now? How are we going to catch him, Cherie?" "I have no earthly idea. At least, you could have decided to let him enjoy some freedom when it was light outside. But, oh no, you pick the dead of night," I snapped, "What the hell were you thinking, woman?"

Whoosh! He zoomed past us and had it not been we were so absorbed in devising his capture, we would have marveled at the agility and speed of this magnificent animal.

"Well chasing him is out of the question. These tired old legs can't keep up with our geriatric mutts," I began, "We have to come up with another way to get him." Just watching him do the Indy 500 around the yard was wearing me out. "Maybe he'll get tired and," Mary started to say, but the look on my face cut her short. "Think damnit," I ordered, "He looks like he is getting even faster out there. Think!"

I was introduced to Charlie the first day he arrived from the greyhound rescue shelter and moved in with his adopted family. He was so skinny and frail. The injuries inflicted during his brief time on the racing circuit had left lasting scars both physically and emotionally. He was skittish and fearful of any sudden move or sound. He cowered and shook uncontrollably. It would be a challenge to get close to him and gain his trust, but his new owners and I agreed it was well worth the effort.

Charlie had been sentenced to certain death because he didn't clock in fast enough at the track. He was cruelly whipped and starved all to get him to go after that mechanical rabbit and make money for the greedy individuals in charge. But, he had, finally, succeeded in beating the odds. And, unlike many of his fellow slowpokes, his life was spared and he was given a second chance.

With time and our constant attention, Charlie began to accustom himself to his new surroundings and those who cared for him. His Mom, a writer, his Dad, a lawyer, and me, his dog walker, slowly got him to risk. He began to bond with us and his home on Manhattan's Upper Westside.

Soon he was prancing down Broadway with the best of the puppy pack. He was a handsome boy and was admired by all who encountered him. He had put on weight. His hair had grown back. He, obviously, was healing in both body and spirit.

Now, his parents and auntie felt compelled to compensate for all he had endured and sometimes we may have gone overboard. Who am I kidding? We spoiled him rotten. We treated him like royalty. Charlie had full reign over the house. He parked himself on the damask couch. Drooled on the embroidered upholstery of antique chairs, not to mention, using their legs as chews. He didn't have a doggie pad to sleep on, but his own single bed. That is, when he wasn't sprawled out with his parents in theirs.

No dog in New York City had a better wardrobe than Charlie. He had more clothes, in fact, than many humans. He donned the most fashionable of coats, hooded sweatshirts, and rain gear. His Mom and I would just shake our heads when Daddy showed up with still another outfit for his precious four-legged son to wear. The hound holocaust, he endured in his early years, was no longer apparent when he regally took his walks in his finery. He commanded respect, if only by the way he dressed. This emperor had clothes.

Prince Charles was raised in an Orthodox Jewish household. Although, his Mom was a Reformed Jew, she kept a kosher kitchen for her husband. When Passover would come around bags of dog food and treats were left outside the door of his apartment. Not being of the faith, I never really understood what Hebrew law eating Iams violated. And, there was no answer in the Talmud, since the holy book didn't have a section on pet care. So, I took the religiously unacceptable foods and gathered up my canine charges for a party. My Christian clients didn't care one iota what law of worship was being broken. All that mattered was the grand feast they were having thanks to Charlie. He didn't suffer during his owners' fasts either. Because, unbeknownst to them, he'd be back at my place, along with the other dogs, sharing the sinful stuff. Not to mention, God forbid, an occasional pork chop or piece of ham. He might bark Yiddish when he was with his parents, but at my house he was one gentile greyhound.

"That's it. I've got it," I said happily to Mary, "Why didn't I think of this before?" "What? What?" she questioned with anticipation. "Just go fry up some bacon and make it quick," I ordered. She ran into the house, as Charlie ran past for the hundredth time.

Armed with crisp, smoky strips, we went to the car and turned the engine and high beams on. We flung open all the doors and, patiently, waited as the aroma of our trap lured the elusive sprinter near. In a New York minute he showed up. Prince Charles shut his jettisons down and came in for a pit stop and, possible ride. He jumped into the back seat, the finish line and looked toward the sizzling trophy. We gambled and won. And although, he never ever caught the damn rabbit in all the times he tried, he got hold of a pig that night, a whole pound in fact. He ran a good race and came out the winner. Our varicose veined gams came in a close second. The sweet smell of victory was pork and we all relished its taste.

JILLY BEAN'S SAGA CONTINUES

Our little foster child Jill is on to a new phase in her life. She is now in the capable hands of trainers at an exclusive pet spa in Soho. She will be under their guidance, learning the basics of obedience before leaving in ten days to begin her life with her new adoptive family.
The real kudos in this miracle goes to "A CAUSE FOR PAWS". This non-profit organization works tirelessly to save animals from certain death, find those rescued foster care, and then a permanent home with loving individuals. Mary and I, especially, want to thank Doug Halsey and Cheryl Pientka for their time and efforts over the years in saving and providing countless neglected and tortured creatures the chance to experience a full belly, gentle pet, and companionship with caring folks. Doug and Cheryl, you and your fellow volunteers are the best. To learn more about "A CAUSE FOR PAWS" and how you could help these devoted individuals in their efforts to stop animal abuse once and for all, please go to: http://www.acauseforpaws.com/

HOW PETS POSITIVELY AFFECT HUMAN HEALTH

Very informative study can be viewed @
http://www.alternet.org/healthwellness/84870

KITTIES TO DYE FOR!

Abbynormal suggests that you first try things out on feral cats. Sorry feline lovers I have to be loyal to my species.

JILL THEN AND NOW

STOP CRUELTY-SIMPLY LOVE

DEAR ABBYNORMAL ALERT!!!

HEY KNOW-IT-ALLS!!!

I'M TRYING TO EARN A LIVING HERE ANSWERING QUESTIONS AND GENEROUSLY SHARING MY PEARLS OF WISDOM WITH YOU. THOSE TWO BITCHES I LIVE WITH ARE CUTTING BACK ON THE TREATS UNTIL I START PRODUCING, SO GET WITH IT AND START SENDING ME YOUR LETTERS. YOU REALLY DON'T WANT ME TO FLIP MY WIG.

ABBYNORMAL

DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR!!!

The Poconos may be the Honeymoon Capital of the World, but I think it falls short with this odd couple. Milo may be chanting "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can," but obviously Josie is aware he can't.

JILL UPDATE!!!

The get-away car was running when we sprang Jill, the red nose pit, from Animal Control in Harlem a week and a half ago. We wisked her away to a much needed holiday in the Pocono Mountains. She has been a delightful guest during her foster time here with us. She has put on some much needed weight, basked in the sun on the deck, and been entertained by the creatures who visit our yard daily. That is when she isn't romping around and having the time of her life playing freely and being lavished with love. We are so very pleased to report that Jill, now fondly known as Jilly Bean, is off to be trained on Friday and then, to a caring adoptive home. May our Jill and her new parents enjoy a long and wonderful life together. She's a doll.

GOVERNMENT CENSORSHIP!!!

What the fuck!!! I have just learned that the United States Army will not let it's soldiers stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan view this blog. I, of course, am flattered that those war-mongering murderers find my musings such a threat. Those in command can't possibly think the grunts would go sexually ballistic viewing my old, saggy, tits. Come on get real!!! I guess it's more patriotic to click on Jenna Bush's bush posted across the internet. But, be forewarned. I gave it a look-see and immediately, got infected with viruses. The prez's little twat gave my puter stds. Hope the new husband isn't in for a surprise of the burning nature. Once more the right is wrong.

MUTT MITTS-THE PET POLLUTION SOLUTION

LIDDLE P. LIDDLE'S GOOD FRIEND (AND CO-PARENT OF THE LATE GUMBO AND GAYTOR) LOONIE SAYS "DOGGONIT THESE ARE GREAT". SO DON'T BE MEAN-GO FOR THE GREEN-AND WHEN YOU PICK UP SHIT-USE THIS MITT. http://www.pickupmitts.com/muttmitt/mm_home.htm?park_rec

SUICIDE???

THE "DC MADAM" SUPPOSEDLY ENDED HER LIFE BY HANGING ON MAY 1ST. MARILYN, WHEREVER YOU ARE, GRAB DEBORAH AND COMPARE NOTES. NO DOUBT, Y'ALL HAVE MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!!!

"A MOOOOD CHANGE" A SHORT STORY

A MOOOOD CHANGE

The black and brown mutt jumped into the back of our waiting van with some effort. But, by the non-stop wagging of his tail, there was no question he happily anticipated another trip to the country with his "aunties".

For years, Mary and I provided boarding services for pets residing in New York City and Buddy was a regular. In his golden years, I really believe he enjoyed, all the more, leaving the hustle and bustle of Manhattan for the sights and sounds time in the Pocono Mountains afforded him. There he could lazily sun himself on the deck, listen to the endless chirping of the birds, and catch a glimpse of what deer, actually, look like. Remember, he was cityfied through and through.

I, honestly, think when Bud first encountered the strange animals grazing in the yard, he thought they were the biggest dogs he'd had ever seen. His eyes were wide as pancakes. The hairs on his back stood at attention. And although, I heard the expected growl and bark, it was, at the most, halfhearted. The aging boy knew he had to keep up appearances with his puppy peers, but that's as far as it went. Let the younguns make a ruckus and do the chasing. He was content to watch from his comfortable spot next to the rocking chair. And the wise old cur knew in their absence, he'd get all the more treats.

As we drove away that day, little did our four-legged passenger know, we weren't headed to his favorite retreat, but on an adventure. The three of us were off on a road trip to North Carolina. There was someone special to meet.

Buddy was as enthralled with the little blue bundle as we were. Wherever the baby was, you could bet Bud was protectively hovering nearby. His doting attention couldn't be diverted for a moment. So, when it came time for us all to leave for an evening's engagement, we had no choice, but to include our canine companion.

The "Toys for Tots" charity ride had been a grand success and everybody was back at the clubhouse celebrating when we arrived. Buddy deftly wound his way through the cluttered lines of Harleys and choppers with his talcum-powdered charge always within sight.

The bikers welcomed us and the gang's two new honorary members-Brendan and Buddy. The duo was a big hit with this leather-jacketed crowd. Congratulations and hugs were generously passed around that night, so were ribs, steaks, and roast pork. I guess it's hard work being a bodyguard because I never saw a dog eat so much meat. It's amazing he could budge, but one whimper from the baby and he was up and in defense mode before you could say, "Milk Bone".

Buddy contentedly slept most of the way home. I'd like to think he was dreaming of the grand time he had and all he had done that weekend. Perhaps, the old boy was remembering feeling strong and vibrant again. Maybe, he was recalling being useful and a force to be reckoned with. Or maybe he was just savoring the taste of barbeque.