Tag Archives: Dog

R I D D I C K !

06 Friday Sep 2013

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Riddick and his puppy - source

Riddick and his puppy – source

The first time I saw the trailer for the new Riddick movie I was giddy.  I LOVE Riddick.  I’ll often reference Pitch Black and Chronicles of Riddick in normal everyday conversation and the responses I get are questioned looks and sympathetic nods (as in she is crazy just nod at what she is saying).  I thought the movies were done and over with but I was wrong and Riddick was coming back!

Before I get to the movie that I happily bounced into during the first screening this morning, let me get you caught up with me.  Today my body said “NO MORE.”  There was going to be no hiking and working out today.  I took the dogs to the dog park and cancelled my Bar Method class.  I’m having one of those days that reminds you that you are old.  Everything hurts.  I have bruises everywhere.  I’m not sure from what exactly.  The dogs, my life, aliens, all the above.  I also manged to skin/bruise my knee while delivering food for Paws/LA last night.  It was one of those moments when you just feel sorry for yourself. “Why Karma,” I screamed, “I’m doing something nice damn it!”  As I fell down, for absolutely no reason, I knew it looked bad because I made eye contact with a guy walking by and he yelled, “OH MY GOD” and ran to help me.  I’d like to say that I tripped in a giant pothole but alas I just fell down.  Yesterday I also managed to tweak my neck/upper back area doing some move wrong in Bar Method.  Add to that the moves in Bar Method were a little different so lots of muscles I don’t usually work hurt.  The “dancers dent,” as my instructors call it (the side of your ass) is in serious pain.  My lats and side abs (I don’t know the names for those) are screaming.  Finally my abs want to give up all together.  Oh well … nothing a little Mortrin, Bengay, and margaritas (which I’m having tonight) can’t fix!

Now back to Riddick.  Since I was out of action it was the perfect day for a movie.  I walked in with my head held high and squished down into my seat in my movie attire (that looks like my everyday attire but add a hoodie) ready to enjoy movie number 3!  Was it good?  I liked it.  I think if you like the Riddick movies you will like it.  If you don’t like the Riddick movies who will have a lot of bad things to say about it but don’t say them to me.  You are the idiot who went to go see a movie I told you that you wouldn’t like.

Ready! Start the movie!

Ready! Start the movie!

I had done my homework and re-watched Chronicles of Riddick prior to the big day.  Not necessary.  The only thing that you have to remember is that at the end of that movie he becomes the leader of the Necromongers (bad guys) due to their “kill it you keep it” rule.  Spoiler.  Although the movie came out in 2004 so really get with the program.  There is actually a bigger tie to Pitch Black but even that you eventually figure out if you forgot it.  The best part of the movie?  Riddick is back and this time he has a puppy!  Well it’s more of an angry zebra/pissed off hyena on steroids hybrid but dog-like.  RIDDICK AND A DOG????  IT’S MY DREAM MOVIE!

I have read (and don’t have the best memory so take this next paragraph with a grain of salt) that Universal didn’t want to make the third movie but Vin was determened.  He negotiated getting the rights to the character as his very own for a cameo in one of the Fast and Furious movies.  After that he borrowed money off his house to help with finances.  Someone already said this but I forgot who so I can’t give him credit but I do agree … at a time when stars are asking little ol’ me to give them money to make their movie via Kickstarter and other such things it’s refreshing for an actor to care enough to dig deep and get the money himself.  I have a real issue with Kickstarter (although I’ve happily given money to a number of projects through those type of crowdsourcing sites) but that’s a conversation for another day.  The point of all this is that Vin is an artist and you can’t hold him back!  I just adore him.  He’s so cute and looks like he would be giggily and fun to hang out with (I may be confusing him with Xzibit who I also love).  Plus if we were hiking and I got bit by a rattlesnake he could totally lift me up and carry me back to the car and to safety.  Swoon … I’m convinced he’d love me too and he would leave his wife/girlfriend (I’m not a good enough stalker to know which he has) to live happily ever after with me.

I give the movie 10 stars!  All for Riddick and his puppy!

The Gentle Giant

07 Tuesday May 2013

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image (9)Don’t hug a dog.  That is one of the top rules of dog and human etiquette if you don’t want to loose part of your nose in a dog’s teeth.  Understandably the dog sees the move as aggressive (or if he/she is well socialized a move to wrestle).  Kisses are another no-no.  What moron would put their face up to a dog’s nose (shamelessly raising my hand).

I hug and kiss dogs.  Every single dog I’ve ever dog sit or know well I’ve hugged.  I get right up in their face and give them kisses and a snuggle.  I don’t suggest you do that.  Per the rule it just isn’t smart.  And yet … Riggins gets cuddles almost every morning.  He will come to my bed and wimper until I say, “come up and get kisses.”  He jumps up and positions himself so I can drape my arm over him.  I’ve curled up with Morgan in the Gogreve’s guest bedroom.  Even the killer, Lousy, wanted to snuggle whenever possible.

image (26)90% of what I do would give Cesar Millan a heart attack.  Cesar’s dog etiquette follows the main rule that a dog is a dog.  Not your baby.  A dog.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha!  As if.  Riggins puppy trainer told me how he gave his dog his own steak every now and then.  He also fully admitted his dog had separation anxiety as the dog went EVERYWHERE with him.  His reasoning is that his dog’s life is short so f*ck it.  He was going to do anything he could to make his dog’s life the best possible.  Hazzah!

In general the bigger the dog the shorter the dog’s average lifespan is.  This is proof positive there is no God.  Big dogs are almost always the biggest hearted lovers you could ever meet.

image (25)Case in point … Clover.  Clover is a golden retriever mix (mixed with something big) who is staying with Riggins and me for a while.  I call her the Gentle Giant.  She is about 35 pounds bigger than Riggins with fur that feels like crushed velvet (and is all over my house … I just vacuumed yesterday and my hall/bedroom looks like it has a white fur rug over it) and a giant fluffy squirrel tail.  Clover spends our time at home laying in the middle of my house where the bedroom door and kitchen door meet the hallway.  No matter where I want to go it requires me to step over Clover (usually bending down to give her a smooch).  The best thing ever is hugging her.  I lie down and use her as a full body pillow.  This poor dog doesn’t get a normal Wendy hug she has to endure a full body hug!

I’ve walked the neighborhood with Clover and Riggins only once so far and every single person was scared crapless of the terrifying creatures at the end of the leashes I was carrying.  Riggins and Clover where much more interested in getting to the many squirrels we saw scurrying up the trees, than tearing any humans to bits.  You have a much better photo (8)chance of getting nipped by a chihuahua then Clover!

Give me a big dog any day.  Not that I don’t like small dogs too.  I do.  It’s no secret that if I had a little dog he would come EVERYWHERE with me in a fancy little purse.  Poor thing.  Imagine how tortured he would be.  When it comes to hugs, comfort and overall goofy happiness I pick big dogs.  Big dog hugs are the best!  Cesar is missing out.

The dreaded word: Exercise – Guest Blogger

06 Monday May 2013

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I realize you may be sick of me preaching about how great Bar Method is and forcing you to look at a zillion pictures of Riggins and me.  Today I decided to mix things up and have you listen to my good friend Michelle talk about her exercise of choice and show you pictures of her and her dog, Buddy!  Recently I went with Michelle (and her friend Olga — more about her in the post below) to a dance (salsa-y) aerobic class and it was a blast.  Generally during my exercise time I tend to put my head down, concentrate, breathe and focus for the hour or so.  Michelle may be onto something with the whole “have fun while you are doing it” idea!  I’ll pass it to Michelle to tell you more about her work-out philosophy —-

The dreaded word:  Exercise

First, let me clarify.  I don’t dread exercise itself.  I actually enjoy physical activity.  But I want it to be FUN.  I want it to be something I look forward to doing.  I don’t want to ever feel like it’s something I have to do.  Simply put, I don’t want it to feel like “exercise”.

My entire life, I’ve always done some sort of physical activity (note that I’m not using the word “exercise”).  Growing up, we lived outside of town so if I wanted to see my friends outside of school, I typically rode my bike.  In high school, I dabbled in track and basketball until I found my favorite sport – soccer.  In college, my physical activity consisted of walking to and from class, and up and down State Street to the various bars and fraternity parties (it was a pretty big campus so there was a LOT of walking).

Michelle & Buddy - Photo taken by Lori Fusaro

Michelle & Buddy – Photo taken by Lori Fusaro

But later in life, in my 30s, I had to come up with something new.  I always enjoyed being outside.  And I grew up with animals.  So I decided it was time to get a dog – THAT would ensure physical activity – I would take the dog on daily walks!  For the next 13 years, my beloved dog Buddy and I went on regular walks – about a mile and a half up to 5 times a week.  But as Buddy grew older he started to slow down a bit, and at the same time I entered my 40s.  Daily walks weren’t going to cut it.  I needed to change up my exercise routine or my waistline was going to start – and continue – to expand.

One day, one of my employees suggested I try Zumba.  “What’s Zumba?” I asked.  She explained that it’s like aerobics but with variations of Latin dance, usually with Latin music.  Well, that sounded pretty good to me!  I love to dance!  Another appealing aspect was that Zumba is offered in a class setting.  I live alone, and at work I sit in a private office with limited interaction with others.  It can be very isolating, almost depressing at times.

I wasted no time getting online to find the nearest Zumba class (www.Zumba.com).  Lucky for me, classes were offered at a gym only a few blocks from my house.  I could request a free 7-day pass and take at least 3 classes for FREE!  Sounded good to me!  Three classes later, I was hooked and joined the gym.

To me, Zumba is like a dance party with your girlfriends sans the tequila.  (Yes, the classes are mostly women – men should get a clue!  Hot, fit women in tight workout gear swinging their hips!)

Michelle and Olga

Michelle and Olga

But the most unexpected benefit of this “exercise” was the friendships I formed in the classes.  At my age, most of us already have an established circle of friends; our closer inner circle and our more casual extended circle.  We’re not necessarily looking to add to those circles.  I never would’ve expected that within a year I’d meet someone who I now consider one of my closest friends.  Olga and I are around the same age, both single, love travel, dance, good food and wine, and live just two blocks from each other.  How great is that?  We’re even planning a trip to Europe in the fall.

Having friends in class REALLY helps motivate me to go on those few days when I’m just not in the mood.  I look forward to dancing with them, sweating with them, and often going for coffee or a cold drink after class.

I guess the moral of my story is:  “Exercise” doesn’t have to be a dreaded activity.  It’s all a matter of finding something you genuinely enjoy – walking your dog, dancing with friends – that achieves the same results yet doesn’t feel like “exercise”.  And who knows what unexpected benefits you’ll find along the way!

Mushless Oatmeal

22 Friday Feb 2013

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It’s national margarita day so I’m going to tell you how to make the best one person serving of oatmeal.  Sure that doesn’t seem to make sense but you can’t have a margarita for breakfast can you?  Start the morning off right with a delicious warm breakfast and your stomach will be set up for a tequila based celebration in the evening (or noon-ish — no judgement).

A week or so ago my friend mentioned to me that she was trying to eat healthier and switched to oatmeal for breakfast.  Although she likes it she isn’t happy that it is sometimes mushy.  I  realized later that I should have shared my oatmeal making technique so instead I’m sharing it with all of you!  To be honest I read how to make oatmeal this way on a blog years ago, but I can’t remember exactly where so let’s just pretend it all came from my genius brain.  Ignore the instructions on the back of the cylindar container and do this instead.

Full disclaimer – I really like oats.  If a recipe calls for oats I’m adding a double batch.  If a recipe doesn’t call for oats there is a good chance I’m adding them anyway (ex: Nutella Cookie here – http://wp.me/p159Ee-89).  You won’t like this unless you like oats but if you don’t like oats why are you even thinking about eating oatmeal … weirdo!

photo (3)Step 1. – Grab yourself a mug, Disney character optional, and fill it a tiny bit with water.  Just a bit (up to my finger in the picture).

Step 2. – Stick that baby into the microwave and heat for 60-90 seconds.  Yes, my microwave is on top of my fridge.  Yes, that does make it sometimes difficult to deal with.  I didn’t judge you for drinking at noon, back off!  Of course this is just one way to get some hot water in a mug but there are other options.  Turning up your water heater really high and just waiting for the water out of the tap to get super-duper hot is an option.  Waiting until you get to your office and then using that pre-hot water nozel thing that is oddly difficult to figure out, is an option.  Going old school and using a kettle is an option.  Whatever tickles your fancy will work just fine.

Step 3. – Grab some oats.  DON’T use the instant oats.  Instant oats are disgusting.  Those single bag instant servings are disgusting.  Grab real whole oats and spoon them into your mug until you have enough that they almost reach the top of the water.  Then stir them some, leave them be for a while (doesn’t have to be long, go get your step 4 ingredients ready), then stir them some more.

Step 4. – Add whatever yummies you feel you and your oatmeal deserve.  Milk (Hot tip for single folks or folks that think milk is gross and don’t use it that often, I fall into both of these categories, buy organic milk and it will last longer.  Seems counterintuitive but it’s true), brown sugar, regular sugar, raisins (Not my go to as my house is a raisin/grape free zone.  These food items are very dangerous for dogs.  Something in the raisin, and grape although less horrible, causes dogs kidney’s to shut down and renal failure.  There is no real treatment and they don’t even really know why it happens.  If a dog eats raisins the only option is to get them to throw up as much as possible then put them on an IV for 24-48 hours in the hope that you can flush out enough of the bad stuff before it causes real damage.  I know this because I have a large vet bill with this treatment on it.), pieces of apple, berries, or my favorite milk chocolate chips all add a yummy punch to your already delicious meal!

There you go as simple as one, two and three (and four).  No need to eat mushy oatmeal ever again.  “But Wendy,” you say, “isn’t this just the same way you make instant oatmeal but instead you are using non-instant oats?”  Yes.  I realize it doesn’t seem like it can make that big of a difference but it does.  Try it and let me know.

Cleanliness Sucks

18 Monday Feb 2013

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“Cleanliness sucks.” – Riggins Newell

rigginsObviously this is Riggins speaking.  I like cleanliness in fact I dare say taking a bath is one of my favorite things to do.  If there was a way to make the bathtub mobile, maybe add a few wheels and a motor, I’d happily go about my life peacefully soaking in warm water with a glass of red wine at my side.  Tub cruising.  Alas this brilliant invention does not yet exist.

Riggins, on the other hand, is a dog.  A boy dog at that.  His goal is to get and then stay as disgustingly filthy as possible.  His favorite dog park isn’t the nice sweet one with clean benches and ample green grass. Nooooooooo.  His favorite is the gross one that’s all dirt and dog pee where you sit at your own risk.  If he happens to find a stinky pile of anything that can’t be digested then he will just flop down on his back and roll around to make sure the stench gets in real deep into his fur.  Suggesting a bath is Riggins idea of hell on earth.

Since I live with the kid he gets a bath once a week.  This is when the dog people who read this blog inform me that washing a dog once a week is actually bad for his skin.  Yah yah I hear you, but did you hear me about the rolling around in grossness?  Riggins is an outside dog who wants to spend his indoor time cuddled up in my face.  Believe me.  You’d find a way to give him a bath weekly too.  To set your minds at ease I do use a special shampoo (designed for show dogs — nothing is too good … obviously) that is actually safe to use daily.  This is swapped out, every other week, with a special medicated shampoo from the vet (In case you were wondering I use Suave or anything cheaper than a giant bottle of Suave that just happens to be on sale for my hair.  We can’t all be kings of the castle.) which is also safe to use as frequently as weekly.

Bath time is always after a hike, which Riggins has long since figured out.  He refuses to go inside directly from a hike and will instead demand to go in the backyard as if I’d forget what I was planning on doing if he can stall long enough.  I take this time to prep.  The white bath mats get thrown into the hall, the towels move down to the floor and I go to the linen closet to grab a Riggins and Wendy towel and hang them up.  I install the dog wash hose onto the shower head and finally strip off my shoes, socks, and any other outer garments that can be shed.  Then I go get the victim.  Once inside Riggins knows it’s getting real when I take of his collar.  This is when he goes into survival mode.  He slips into the corner of my dinning room in an attempt to blend into the darkness.  Usually I just get behind him and tell him to move it and he will slowly …. very very slowly walk his way into the bathroom and into the shower.  Once he gets all four legs into the stall he is resigned and gives me little to no problems.  He takes his medicine until he is freed.  Post Riggins wash, I strip off the last of my clothes and make myself clean as he runs up and down the hall violently shaking in the hope of flicking off the pleasant scent he has acquired.

This weekend I tapped him on his journey to the shower and he acted out just for you (Please ignore any clutter or untidiness.  It doesn’t make sense to pick up until after the wet Tasmanian Devil settles down a bit.).  Enjoy:

You Talking to Me?

05 Tuesday Feb 2013

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photo (1)The answer to the question, “you talking to me?” is probably, “no.”  I’m usually talking to Riggins.  Given I’m with him more than any other living being this make sense.  Normally it’s not confusing since it’s just the two of us in our house.  There isn’t anyone to even question our conversations but the hill is a different story!  There are a ton of humans there to experience my crazy.

More than once I’ve managed to confuse humans by my commands to my dog.  I try to make it obvious that I’m not just walking up a giant hill and through a canyon mumbling to myself and barking out orders like a person who escaped from an insane asylum.  I keep Riggin’s leash around my waist in easy view and pat his butt or grab his tail when he walks by.  Still he is usually far enough away from me that my outbursts toward him and his behavior can cause confusion.

I have had strange looks when yelling, “come on, shake a tail feather” when Riggins is lagging behind and “hey buddy, hold your horsies” when he is too far ahead of me.  It doesn’t help that, while going downhill, he is often behind me looking for ground squirrels to gobble up and I stop, turn around to glare in his direction.  My stare often goes through other human hikers as I clap and say, “let’s go.”  Once I looked back to check on Riggins and realized a gentleman thought I was staring at him.  It took awhile to shift my focus as I was looking behind him to check on my dog.  He took a beat and then smugly nodded his head with a “yes it’s me” attitude.  I thought he was a freak until further down the hill when it hit me that he was an actor on a crime TV show, CSI or one of those.  He was still a freak but at least his actions made sense.

Once, near the top of the trail I unhooked Riggins and his good friend Morgan (a standard poodle) who was with us that day.  After walking a few steps I yelled, “COME ON BOYS.  LET’S GO” in a very theatrical voice accompanied by an appropriate arm swing and “westward ho” point.  My exclamation to the dogs happened just as I passed a gaggle of men.  They all looked at each other, shrugged, and followed me as if to say, “she said let’s go … what are we waiting for?”

Going up the spine one day a little boy with his dad was trying to make it down the toughest part.  The steep incline caused him to decide shuffling along on his butt was safest.   A human sitting down anywhere on the hill is Riggins signal that he should be in their lap getting hugs and kisses.  I’ve seen him lick the face of kids butt scooting down that hill but this kid did not seem like he’d be into it.  I growled out, “leave him alone” in a very scary commanding voice.  The dad looked at me as if I was out of my mind.  He had assumed I was talking to his son.  Can you imagine?  What freak would think it was okay to growl at another person’s son????

photoJust last week we were going up a precarious section and Riggins thought it would be okay to stop right at the top blocking my path as well as other hikers.  Exasperated I sighed, “you are in the way, move.”  A poor young woman in front of Riggins apologized profusely as she moved to the side.  I felt horrible and had to point out I was talking to the dog, not her.  Who would say that to a fellow human hiker?

Breaking this all down I wonder if I’m seen as the bully of the hill.  The bully with the oddly friendly dog.  Perhaps.  Oh well.  Everyone on the hill should just assume when I’m talking it isn’t to them!

(Picture of Riggins in flight.)

The Death Race

22 Tuesday Jan 2013

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Did you know that yesterday was Squirrel Appreciation Day? Me either. Luckily for us this wise journalist really knows his stuff and informed me – http://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/animals/blogs/happy-squirrel-appreciation-day. In honor of such an important occasion I thought I’d share my story of The Death Race happening in my backyard.

When it comes to Riggins’ instinct to kill I’ve always lived by the “circle of life” philosophy. After all if you are a critter that feels it’s necessary to hang out in my back yard that’s really on you. Riggins is a master ground squirrel assassin and to stop his blood thirst I had him start wearing a bell while hiking off leash. Gives the little critters a heads up. He will and has gnawed on a dead bird or taken out a family of baby possums. Circle of life.

I do find it fascinating that he knows his own kind. I’ve found dead rats in the backyard and yet he will sniff a chihuahua and move on with a head nod (what’s up buddy).

I also like to help him understand and connect with his roots. His mommy was a Germanfly riggins Shorthair Pointer. A hunting dog! You know how when a couple adopts a tot from another culture and then feels like they should do things to help that child never forget his/her skin color is different from theirs (I’d give you examples but I can’t without sounding horribly racist so you will have to think those up on your own)? Same thing … just with a dog. So a long time ago I set up the Death Race. It’s been out of commission for a while but this past week I started it up once again!

My backyard is a type of critter zoo. Somehow I moved to the urban jungle and didn’t realize it. One of the critters that are plentiful are squirrels. So I did what any caring mother of a hunter dog would do and set up a squirrel feeder in one of the tall trees in my backyard. As the squirrels make their way from the back fence to their snack and back their only goal is to NOT GET CAUGHT BY THE DOG. Riggins makes this harder by following them from the ground taunting with a ferocious bark. The little creatures jump and teeter from the branch of one tree to the other. If one falls (you can hear tiny squirrel gasps from the stands) Riggins and the squirrel have a beat where they just stare at each other before ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. Then it’s up to the squirrel to get up and get out FAST. Losing means death.

Okay this is mean. I admit it. But I’m on Riggins side. He LOVES it and, as of right now, has never caught a squirrel contestent. I figure at this point word is out and it is only the badass tattooed squirrels who make a bet and come into the ring. I assume it’s how you become a squirrel man.