Saturday, December 28, 2013

Birthday Wishes for Good Year and Good Cheer!

I am thrilled to announce that
TODAY
is my Eleventh Birthday!
Many Boxer Dogs live much longer of course, but the average age is 10.
So for every year over that, I am grateful.
I have already outlived my beloved predecessor,
WishBone, Duke of the House of Hagg.
He was 1 month shy of 11 when he passed.
I have no doubt that he will greet me again someday,
but for now, it is time to celebrate!







I have had an excellent life!  I came up from humble beginnings and was made into a Duchess!  What girl doesn't dream of that!  I have lived a courtly life for years and years now and have a staff that cares for my every need.  Not that I haven't given back to the community of course.  The mythical Land of Hagg has many needs and I have dutifully gone about the business of doing what I can to help my people.  I have visited the sick and infirm in the many homes where they stay.  I have helped young children learn to read.  I have been a good will ambassador at schools and generally done my best to make all the common people feel welcome and at home in my presence.  For my endeavors I am happy to say that I have been given the titles and awards of  Canine Good Citizen and Therapy Dog.




Now, mind you.  I've had me own wee failures.  Or, rather, works in progress.  Those two Chamberlains that I hired some 4 years ago still have not raised a paw to help out a 

Monday, December 23, 2013

'Twas 2 days before Christmas.....



A Poem of Royal Making.....



'Twas 2 days before Christmas and all though the town
Everybody was scurrying for that last day count down.
The decorations were falling, a wee bit worse for the wear
and the merchants were calling "We have the Teddy Bears"!  
The Royals were snuggled all tucked in their beds, while visions of Kong Toys danced in their heads.  







They dreamed on and on of big treats and great fields, where all day they could run and eat all their fill.  They dreamed of soft toys to chew on and then, a great big fat man landed right on their head.  He was dressed all in red, from his head to his feet, and Kenz barked and barked and barked out a Tweet!   
"Hey Malcolm! Hey Nessie"!  She shouted so loud.  "A fat man down the chimney"!  she was so proud 
that she was the one who caught the big guy and she bounced all around him with ropes that she tied.  And when he was bound she saw what she'd done.  She'd taken that thing on which Christmas did run....... 
 
"No more presents or toys", the Lord Malcolm did whimper.
"No more treats, no more fun, no more gay Christmas Dinner".

And Nessie the Monster, got down on her knees, and begged forgiveness for Kenz and said "Please.  
Forgive us St. Nicholas.  Forgive Kenzer-Doodle.  But sometimes her wee brain is no more than a Noodle.  She tried to protect us from foreign aggressors, but ended up "Grinching" the Pearls and the Esthers.  The Agnes and Mollys and Hawkins and Drews.  The Oceans and Chevys and wee Jojo too.  Even the Aspens and the Mooses and Mochis, the Wendis the Pumpkins the Rockos and Lokis.  The Hogans the Coopers the Barbies and Franks, the Shelbys the Sashas the  Izzys and Tanks.  The Billies the Myrtles, the Prestons and Dozers,  The Bellas the Neos the Sweet Peas and Busters,  and all of the Common folk who lived in the town;  would be without Christmas because Santa was down.

Now Kenzie felt bad.  Malcolm and Nessie felt badder.  So they went to the cupboard and found a sweet cracker.  With milk they did bring it and sadly they said, "Merry Christmas Santa, we've been bad kids again.
We've sure done it now. We have messed up your plan".  And as they untied him, he gently did say...."I know what will make you feel better today".  
"Some toys to play with, with squeakers and fuzz and lots of candy to give you a buzz!  And don't worry Royal Clan for delaying me so!  I needed the rest, but now I've gotta go"!

And UP he did spring like a Boxer on high and he bounded and bounced right on up to the sky!  And we heard him exclaim as he bounced out of sight...
"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night"!

Sunday, December 8, 2013

A Post Card From the Palace

The Royal Pooches 
would like to take this opportunity
to say THANK YOU to our 
beloved and faithful readers.

We have been abundantly blessed  to have such a wonderful and loyal following.
We know that we have neglected to post as much as we would like due to our preparation, planning and building of the new Palace.  We have found ourselves fairly settled at last and just in time for the Holiday Season.  We do hope to post on a more regular basis going forward and appreciate that you have 'hung in there' with us whilst we were away.






We sincerely wish that you enjoy your family and friends during the coming Holidays and that you remember that the Christmas Season is not about who gets or gives the biggest or most expensive gifts.  It is not about who has the brightest lights or the biggest tree.  We have already been given the One True Gift of Love and Life.  It is our prayer that you enjoy the Peace and Joy that only Love can bring and that you are able to take it with you where ever your path may lead.  Heal.  Don't hurt.  Bless.  Don't Hate.  Love.  Don't envy.  Honor.  Don't destroy.  Forgive.  Don't look for vengeance.   Give what you can.  And give it with Joy and with Love.  May these Blessings be yours and may your new year shine with Love, Prosperity and Happiness.

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas
and a Joyous New Year

Nessie the Monster, Duchess of Hagg
Lord Malcolm and Lady McKenzie, Chamberlains
and all the Palace Servants and Staff









Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Dough Ball Caper.......

Dough Belly 1.  Calling Dough Belly 1.  This is Dough Belly 2.  Do you read?

Yes.  Dough Belly 2.  What do you want?

Do you have the 'Goods'?

Calm down Dough Belly 2.  This  caper takes brains, not brawn.  Where is Queen Bee?

I keep trying to tell you two that I'm a Duchess, not a Queen.

That's your nickname, Queen Bee.  How many times do I gotta tell ya that we have to use nicknames for this caper!  Did you distract that woman yet, Queen Bee?

Oh yes, Dough Belly 2.  She is much distracted.  I sent her to the garage to oversee the workers I hired to do some much needed  work on the Palace.  I ordered the work done to distract her and as you can see, it has worked.

This is Dough Belly 1.  Can you two please Piper Down!  This is delicate work I'm doing here!

Well.  Hurry up Dough Belly 1.  Dough Belly 2 is very hungry and I think that woman is coming back in!

We're meeting at the rendezvous spot now, Queen Bee!   Hurry.

You nevah tell a Duchess to 'hurry', Dough Belly 2.  Even when I'm role-playing as the Queen Bee.
And here I am.......
Oh dear.  You have already eaten all 3 dough balls?  Did you not save any for me?



Yes.  There were 15 loaves set out to rest and rise.  It was an offering for the 8th year memorial anniversary of my Dad's passing from this world.  The pack  conspired against me.  The Duchess, Nessie and Lord Malcolm on the one side to distract me whilst the nimble, yet silent, Lady  Chamberlain leaped up and snatched the beautiful dough balls, gently lifting the cover from them and turning it back.  Three dough balls fit nicely in her ample Boxer mouth.

Then the dash and swallow.  They dashed away to the designated rendezvous spot and very quickly swallowed a dough ball each.  The caper took but seconds and the bewildered baker had no defense.  

No one the wiser, right?   ------  Until the Palace filled with the sounds of slumber, later that night, was violently interrupted by the sounds of regurgitation.  The Chamberlains had it bad, but the Duchess didn't upchuck since her constitution is of sterner stuff due to experience.


This just proves that no matter how hard you train, Dough Bellies happen.


The Vet was called and whilst he laughed heartily, he made it clear there would be nothing to really worry about save the carpets.



Many many thanks to my co-writer +Su Ann Lim for such a humorous vision on this story.

Friday, September 20, 2013

The Dowager Duchess in her Golden Years

Dowager (dou-uh-jer) --noun  a woman who holds some title or property from her deceased husband, especially the widow of a king, duke, etc. (often used as an additional title to differentiate her from the wife of the present king duke, etc.): a queen dowager; and empress dowager.
an elderly woman of stately dignity, especially one of elevated social position  a wealthy dowager
--adjective  noting, pertaining to, or characteristic of a dowager:  the dowager duchess; to prefer a dowager style of dress.


Any of you who have been following me for the past some years know that I try to keep my dignity at all times.  It was difficult when I lost my dearest friend, WishBone who was the 1st Duke of the House of Hagg.  I suffered terribly and I know it was hard on my staff and servants to see me thus.  During that time, they graciously provided for me with much love and, when the appropriate time for mourning was passed, they helped me to adopt my much beloved Chamberlains, the Lord Malcolm and the Lady McKenzie.  They were hired, of course to tend to my household and keep it in a manner to which I had become accustomed;  well ordered and stately, punctuated with just a smidge of humor every now and then.  It was to be my task, as Dowager Duchess, to train them to perform their duties in a dignified, loyal and regal manner;  always keeping the palace in a state of welcome to the many guests and visitors who frequent it's beautiful gardens and halls.  They were to learn how to oversee the staff in ordering and preparing the food for the many stately dinners and entertainments we enjoy, and for the keeping of the bed chambers and apartments and the upkeep of the gardens and lands.  Our palace is quite grand and the king has honored us with much property so there are many tasks that fill our days.  The Chamberlains were young and inexperienced when they were hired but full of enthusiasm and a strong desire to please.  I knew I would have a great deal of work in their training, but this is just what I needed to bring me out of my sullen state.  I dove into this work with great vigor and energy.



Now, I must admit, that I am beginning to acquiesce to my aging old bones.  I have been so involved in raising these youth to be the fine upstanding nobles they have become that I nearly forgot to care for my own person.  Today, upon gazing into the looking glass, I realize that I have aged a great deal in the past 4 years of their training.  And why wouldn't I?  They have proven to be much more difficult to train than they first appeared and I, after all, will be 11 just 3 days past Christmastide.  I cannot stay young forever and more and more, I yearn to be with my old dear friend, WishBone, Duke of the House of Hagg.


The Chamberlains have required my servants and staff to document the progression of degeneration that has developed in my back legs.  Mind you, my heart and mind are young and active and quite full of my usual vim and vigor.  It's just my back legs that I struggle with.  The Royal doctor calls it arthritis.  It has the effect of slowing my progress as I chase down those two, so I tend to call out direction to them rather than show them what is expected.  I struggle to hold my derriere at a proper level while standing for long periods, and my right rear paw tends to drag or turn at an odd angle while walking.  It has become increasingly difficult to control where my right rear leg is, as it tends to slide in almost every direction except the direction it should.  Seems it has a mind of it's own, my leg.  Ha!  Still, if I can get to the grassy lawn, I get better traction and one would  have to be quite observant to see my legs flailing out the wrong way while I run.  The Acupuncture and the Hydrotherapy do help and I enjoy the time alone at the spa.  It's a good chance for me to catch up on my reading and to organize my thoughts and duty lists for the week.  As much as I adore my Chamberlains;  time away from them is precious and well enjoyed.

The following are the documentations provided at the request of my Chamberlains: 

video
Notice the drag of the back right toes after she drinks her water.

video
Nessie barks when she can't keep up and just at the end, both her rear legs flail to the right.

video
Watch closely both back legs.  The right toes roll in and both legs struggle to find a proper position.

video
Acupuncture

That's me in the Hydrotherapy Chamber.  I love the spa!

Saturday, August 31, 2013

The Many Faces of Exhaustion or Let a Sleeping Dog Lay

Most Boxers Have
high amounts of energy.
They run and play and create havoc
all day and everywhere they go.
By late afternoon, they should
look like this.....





Tuesday, August 13, 2013

A Wee Lesson in Body Language

Body Language:  noun  nonverbal, usually unconscious, communication through the use of postures, gestures, facial expressions, and the like


Dogs do have a verbal communication that we can sometimes decipher.  But most of their language is communicated in the posture of the body.  If we, as handlers, learned to read this language with a high degree of proficiency, we would be able to eliminate most of the issues humans have with our dogs.  To begin to understand, simply go to a dog park without your dog and observe how the other dogs are communicating.  Another good place to watch the language of dog in on TV.  There is a new channel now just for dogs and you can see some dogs interacting.   You will see a dog approach another.  Sometimes the dog will turn it's back to another.  Sometimes they will approach, not in a straight line;  but almost a semi circle. Sometimes a dog will stop it's approach and simply stand there.  Some dogs will put their head down and begin to sniff the ground while others might yawn or turn their head or begin to lick or even drool excessively.  



All of these actions {and there are many more} mean something.  I'm not a threat.  I'm scared of you.  I want to play.  I'm too nervous.  You may approach.  You may not approach.  Any dog who gets on great at a dog park is pretty well versed and fluent in this language.  And they know when to play and when to back off.  But there are many dogs who can never go to a dog park simply because they don't read the language well or because they are really too frightened to deal with all the activity.  My Malcolm is one such dog.
  


I haven't figured out if it's because he is very slow to mature (he was the runt of the litter) or because he is simply too frightened.  But I do know that he's not fluent in dog language.  That is, he doesn't read it well and get how he should react.  He's very good at giving the signals himself though.  As most of you know, he was frightened at a young age by 3 charging miniature schnauzers.  He was very scared and since then has been lunging at small dogs every chance he gets.  I've been working with an animal behaviorist and many other dog trainers and doing research on my own to try and correct this nightmarish problem.  He has good days and bad, like all of us, but he's generally getting better and better.  Or, more correctly, I am getting better and better at seeing what's happening and reacting properly.



In addition to being frightened by the small dogs, I took bad advice and over corrected him in these situations.  (You know, we all pick dogs that are similar to us in some respect.  If you think a Boxer is bull headed, you should meet me.)  Not realizing how sensitive he was, I made the situation worse.  My over correcting resulted in him being frightened of new people and new sounds and new situations.  So he's been scared of almost everything for a while.  



When it finally got through to my brain that he was sensitive, I took an extremely opposite approach.  Now, when I need to correct him, (and it's not that often any more), I actually slap him on the chest with my flat fingers.  He's highly insulted by that and immediately will correct himself from what ever unwanted behavior is happening.  He simply can not fathom that his Mom, who he knows loves him, would slap him with her hand.  Forget prong collars and harnesses.  They did nothing for him.  But a little slap wakes him up out of what ever it is that he's focused on.



We recently went on a trip to the mountains and of course, Malcolm was nervous to go on hikes in unfamiliar places and meet new people.  And of course, when you go camping, there are dogs galore.  It was a good opportunity to  work him and expose him to new things.  I spent some time in each campground just sitting and holding his tail up into a neutral position and rubbing his belly to calm him down.  When he was relaxed, he would start to sniff the ground and walk a bit and then we went back to our camp.  It seemed to help him.

McKenzie was stressed out as we drove down the highway, because I wouldn't let her in my lap.  She panted and calmed herself down.


Here are some pictures and a video.  You can assess the body language yourself and see what you think.  Look at your dog and watch closely other dogs and see if you can begin to understand what they are telling you.

video


A great resource that will get you hooked on listening to dogs is this book which is sold on Amazon.  (I don't sell it myself, I just like it and give you the link).


Monday, May 20, 2013

Excellent Hygiene in the Royal Court

I have always been an advocate for excellent hygiene, especially when it comes to oral hygiene.
The Royal Court could quickly start 
smelling quite base without our taking great care.

Nessie the Monster, Duchess of Hagg

The Dog Drawer containing Enzymatic Toothpaste and 3 headed brushes  along with clickers , vitamins and various medications

So many things are eaten and enjoyed in our Land.  We are, indeed a privileged Royal Court. ~~Although, I will insert that as of late, our handlers have been quite obsessed with their own agenda and have much neglected us in all aspects in the past months.  They are building a new Palace, it seems, and want to ensure that it is well appointed before they allow us a viewing.  Humph! ~~  None the less, we are privileged.  We are provided for.  We have an adoring following and our staff, though somewhat preoccupied, are well intention-ed and are doing the best they can with so much on their plate.


We all must wait our turn.

Now.  Speaking of plates and the Royal China.....Oh, yes.  We eat from Royal China.  I have a special pattern called "Her Royal Hiney's Cuisine".  It is a basic white because it shows off the culinary designs much better.  The Chamberlains have a different pattern called "Royal Court" with special hand-painted dogs decorating the edges.  Our Royal Chef isn't too remarkable but she is sufficient to keep our bellies full.  She will, on special occasion, add some extra flavor that is quite pleasing to our palettes.  And she is prompt in her delivery.  Our meals are always on time.  

My Royal Chompers will be pearly white in no time.

With eating twice daily, though, it is imperative that we have our Royal Chompers brushed quite frequently.   So I thought I would share with you our special time.  We have a deliciously flavored toothpaste (tastes like chicken) and a special 3 headed toothbrush.   Lord Malcolm, of course, is the hardest on the poor handler and the very toothbrush itself.  He patiently waits his turn for brushing with no problem (he's always last, because he's so difficult).  He tries to eat the brush and it's hard for the handler to get his massive jaws to unlock so as to get to the Chompers without getting bitten.  But we women of the Royal Household are quite different.  We love getting our teeth brushed and will stay calm and relaxed while it's being done.

Lady McKenzie


Here's the routine........

*It's one at a time.......Nessie, McKenzie and then Malcolm.
*Lay down and roll over on our side.
*Have 2 quads brushed, upper and lower.
*Roll all the way over and spin around the other direction.
*Have the other 2 quads brushed, upper and lower.
*Move out of the way for the next one and wait patiently til everyone is done.
*See who can get to the tube first, to have some more of that yummy paste squirted into your mouth!  ^~^

Lord Malcolm is cute but a Royal Pain


It's important to brush, not only because of the smell our bad breath can create, but to take care that our teeth and gums last our lifetime with no issues.  Plus, we do love it when our adoring fans love our beautiful smiles!


We take special care to get all around every tooth...


...so you can enjoy our beautiful smiles!


Friday, May 3, 2013

NO BARK

And I mean it!
I really, really mean it!



OK.  I really don't have a picture or video of this, but here's my story......

So I've been trying to teach NO BARK for, hmm,  3 1/2 years.

You know how schools of fish just suddenly change direction all at once?  If the dogs want to bark, they all jump up at once and run in the same direction.  It can happen from a dead sleep.  They usually do this when I'm in the shower or still getting ready in the bathroom because they know I can't come and correct them.  (I don't ever give a command that I'm not prepared to enforce, and from the bathroom, I'm not prepared to enforce;  so whatever happens, I have to let it go).  If I can catch them (or even one) still in the room and not barking all ready, I reward with praise and sometimes a cookie.  Nessie has always gotten way more cookies for this than the twins.

Then McKenzie started to realize that Nessie was still in there getting cookies.  "Hey!  What's up with that" ?  So she started jumping up and running into the bathroom instead of to the front room window.  :0)  I thought Malcolm was a lost cause though.  He has always continued to bark at the window, but he's been doing it alone for a while now.  No one joins him. He was left there to finally figure out that he wasn't attracting too much attention from his sisters.  That couldn't have been very rewarding for him. 

About a month or two ago, he began to realize that he wasn't getting the girls riled up.  So he sauntered into the bathroom to find them both getting cookies.  All he got was my finger shaking at him and the command NO BARK.  And as much as he drooled, he never got a cookie.

The past two weeks have been hilarious!  I now have a pack that jumps up from a sound sleep, runs in a panic in one direction (toward the front room), stops, turns, and runs in the same panic in the opposite direction (toward the bathroom).  They do not make a sound with their vocal chords--just the sound of a herd of elephants running through the hallway.  I see them all sitting in the bathroom, some drooling, some inching closer to the cookie jar until I give them a cookie and praise.  :0))))))))))))))   My next step has already begun.  I don't give cookies every single time.  Sometimes they have to wait a long long time to get one and sometimes they don't get one at all.  But they always get the praise for doing the right thing.  It's so funny to see the 're-programming' that is going on.  Jump up and run into the bathroom.  HA!

That's my story and I'm sticking to it!  :0)

Saturday, April 6, 2013

The Retractable Leash

I might not be popular by saying this, but
I don't like them.  I think they are very dangerous.





We've all seen them.  The Retractable Leash.  It is so common across the country that I can't imagine anyone not knowing what one is.  But just in case, here's a picture.


To be sure, they come in all shapes and sizes and every color under the sun.  They are made for toy dogs up to large breed dogs.  You simply clip onto your dog's collar or harness and by operating a button with your thumb, you can allow your dog to extend the leash all the way out -- usually from 10 to 20 ft.  -- or you can stop the dog from full extension and let them go only part way.  Supposedly, you can also bring your dog back in by recoiling the nylon line.  I say "supposedly" because I've never seen anyone actually be able to do that when they needed to.  Oh.  And you WILL need to.

There are a multitude of reasons why I think this type of leash should be banned from ever being sold.  I understand that most Americans want to have a very relaxing walk with their little doggy and that they don't want to be bothered with actually having to train their dog to walk next to them.  They want the dog to be able to sniff and pee and poo where ever it sees fit while they amble down the road oblivious to their own dog or to the other humans and dogs who might be around them.  After all, their dog is friendly with kids and old people and other dogs so it won't matter if it gets close to any of those creatures.  Their dog will be friendly and fine.  They would rather the dog walk them;  than actually walk their dog.

I cannot tell you how wrong and how lazy this attitude is.

The responsible pet owner should think about a few things.  
1.  Why are they walking their dog?  So the neighbors can see it?  Or does it need exercise?
2.  Shouldn't they pick up the poop their dog leaves behind?  (That would mean that they would have to be next to the dog.
3.  Who is in charge?  The dog or the human?
4. What will happen if a strange animal approaches my dog?  How will I protect my dog from danger if the dog is 16 ft. away?
5.  What if my dog sees a rabbit, squirrel or cat and it lunges at it?  And what if it does that right at the moment the woman with the baby stroller got in the way?

You know, some of these things might not ever happen, but some are likely.  And there is something else to consider.  What if my Fido on a long retractable goes up to another dog just to say hi.  And what if that other dog is a rescue who is terrified of other dogs?  Or what if that dog is a new puppy without it's shots?  Or in training?  Or a police dog?  Or a Schutzhund dog?  Or a dog that likes it's own space.  (I don't know about you, but I don't like a close talker especially when I've just met the person).  Or a dog that's recently been rescued from a dog fighting operation?  They were a good distance away from you,  but you let your dog approach without asking.  Now the dog fight ensues and I can tell you who will win.  The dog that is fearful will win.  Who's fault is it when your Fido gets hurt?  I know what you'll do.  You'll be aghast that that big dog just bit your precious little Fido.  You'll rush to the vet and you'll expect someone else to pay your bill.  But it was your fault for letting Fido into someone else's space unannounced and uninvited.



The walk is for exercise.  Use it to work your dogs body and brain.  Keep your dog by your side.  It doesn't have to be in a perfect heel position, but it shouldn't pull you down the road either.  Ideally, it will walk beside or a bit behind you.  If you are the leader, it will happen.  You decide when you want to let the dog sniff and pee and take care of other business.  Come to an appropriate place and release it from the walk.  "OK. Fido.  Go Sniff".  You decide how long to stay and where this will take place.  And Fido shouldn't take this action on his own.  He must wait for the release word.  Why, you ask?  Because you are the pack leader.  When a pack of dogs is out on a hunt either for food or new shelter, they follow their leader.  They don't go stray around willy-nilly where ever they'd like.  The leader goes and the pack follows.  When the leader decides it's time for a rest, then the pack can sniff and relax and take care of it's business.  This is how a dog's mind finds order, discipline and comfort in it's world.  And this is how you can get that respect you've been looking for from your dog.  This also gives you a better chance of protecting your dog from strange animals who might not be so friendly.  You are Fido's soul protector.  You provide the food, the shelter, the protection.  You can't do that from 20 ft away.  And if that nylon rope does get tangled around an old woman's ankle or a baby stroller and your Fido does lunge at a cat;  well.  I know you don't want that.

So please, do your dog and your neighborhood a favor.  Get rid of the retractable or flexi lead and train your dog to walk on a 4 ft or 6 ft leash.  He'll get the steady pace of good healthy exercise and his mind will have to stay alert to concentrate on the wishes and demands of his leader.  He'll be happier and even more tired when you get home.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Luck O' the Irish?

Just a quick Note

To wish all our wonderful followers

a

Happy St. Patrick's Day


May the good Saint be with us all today.   And if you become just a little more Irish and a wee bit less sober, make sure you have a friend to get you home safely!






Sunday, March 10, 2013

Suffering the Indignity of the Royal Baths

Royalty  (roi-uhl-tee)  noun
Character or quality proper to or befitting a sovereign;  nobility.
Suffering (suhf-er-ing)  noun
The state of a person or thing that suffers.
Indignity (in-dig-ni-tee)  noun
An injury to a person's dignity;  slighting or contemptuous treatment;  humiliating affront insult, or injury.

An excerpt from the Royal Diary of Nessie the Monster, Duchess of Hagg

Dear Diary,

Some days it seems that Life dictates to me rather than the proper way 'round, which would be me dictating how m'life should be.   From a Commoners viewpoint, I can easily see how one would imagine that life as a Royal Duchess would always be a grand affair.  Commoners often dream of becoming a Royal.  Of course, that simply isn't possible.  One is Royal by birth.  It is our gift bestowed upon us by God Himself.  A Commoner simply could never ever become Royal.  Indeed.  But I digress as I, being elderly, am sometimes wont to do.  My point is that some days, the Commoners who have been employed at the Palace of Hagg to take care of mundane day to day business which is, quite frankly, beneath the dignity of a Royal with the status such as myself,  do take it upon themselves to overstep the bounds of their perceived servitude.  I dare say that yesterday they undertook to demand that We must bathe.  Bathe?  I shall dictate when to bathe.  And I say never.  Not ever shall the Chamberlains and I step into that torture chamber.  We do not walk on wet pavement.  We do not walk (Heavens Forbid) on wet grass.  We certainly forbid entering into a Chamber that leaks water and of which there is no escape!  




Saturday, February 23, 2013

A Few Thoughts About Breeding Your Dog

I'm not an expert on anything really.  But I am
educated enough to know what I Don't know.

Pure Bred Dogs are to be bred to the STANDARD
set forth by that breed's national club.
For Boxers, here is a link to the American Boxer Clubs Breed Standard

When Judging a dog in a dog show, Westminster comes to mind, 
the judges don't judge one dog against another.  They judge each dog as it meets the exact standard set forth by it's club.
This is how a Boxer and a Chihuahua can come to be competing against each other for 
BEST IN SHOW.
They have already beat all the other dogs that were competing in their own breed category.
For Best in Show, they are judged only to the standard set forth and therefore, can come to be in the same ring together.


Of course, it's all political and people naturally gravitate to the dog breed they really like, but that's not my point for today.


Let's assume you want a Boxer dog, you want it from a puppy, and there aren't any puppies in your local Boxer Shelter.  Where do you go?  To a breeder, right?  But breeders come in all shapes and sizes, so to speak.   I found my breeders in North Carolina which, as most of you know, is quite a distance from Oklahoma.  What on Earth would make me go that far to buy a dog?  It's the quality of the breeder.  

The reason for this blog today is to get some things off my feeble chest.  Some guy on G+ asked a question on a dog community page that just crawled up my spine.  'Does anyone know if artificial insemination works?  Cause I just inseminated my dog.'  (I didn't use quotes, because I didn't quote him.  His grammar and spelling were terrible).   I had several problems with this question, not the least of which, was his spelling and grammar.  And I'm not talking about typos or typing as if he was in a conversation with someone.  If he's not interested enough to learn the English language and not interested enough to learn about artificial insemination BEFORE he does it;  how does he think anyone will believe that he is interested enough in the breed to be a responsible breeder?

This is just another guy who breeds bully dogs for money.  He's a backyard breeder.  He says he loves the breed.  Then what does he do with the Bitches he uses to breed, when they get to old? Does he dump them in the country somewhere?  Does he keep them healthy?  What are his dogs' living conditions?  Does he show or train any of his dogs?  Does he breed to the standard?  Does he KNOW the standard?  How many litters does he require from his females?  Who does he sell to?  Does he know the health history of the Sires?  Or is he just looking at dogs and deciding to breed on how they look, not knowing anything else.

My breeders can tell you the health and temperament of each dog they use to breed.  They don't breed often, only when they are wanting another dog to show.  They can't show them all, so the sell the other pups.  But they don't tell anyone they have pups.  They don't post pictures.  They will not sell to anyone they don't know.  I had to be recommended to my breeder before he would even send me a picture.  This is a guy who does love the breed.
That backyard breeder only likes the looks of the breed.  A good responsible breeder can breed out heart disease, thyroid and kidney disease etc.  They scientifically do this all the time while still maintaining the standard.  They won't let any of their dogs go to a home they don't know and trust.  They love the breed.  Period.  And they do things with their dogs.  They travel with them and go to shows and compare what they are doing with other responsible breeders.  They are members of the American Boxer Club and other local Boxer Clubs.  They are informed and in touch.



The puppy mills and back yard breeders don't care about the breed even if they say they do.  They do not do things to enjoy the breed.  They are in it for the money.  They don't care who they sell to and that is a major problem for many shelters across the nation.  Much of their effort ends in animal abuse and cruelty.  I beg you.  If you want a dog and can't find one to adopt from a shelter, make sure you are buying from a responsible breeder who loves the breed and wants only the continuation of a perfected Boxer.  And if you are thinking of breeding, please think again.  Don't mess around with something you don't know enough about.