Sunday, October 17, 2010
Waste Not....
Instead of throwing it in the trash (in biodegradable bags, of course), the people of Cambridge, Massachusetts, have found a better use for dog bombs. Now, if we could get such a project off the ground at our park.... (Off the ground-- get it? Or should I say get it under the ground? Or maybe I should just shut up now? )
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Art Imitates Life-- Badly
I was flipping channels a few nights ago, and one of the movie channels was showing a movie called Dog Park. Well, clearly this was in my purview of interest, so I PVR'ed it.
I knew it was a bad sign that it had "famous names" in the credits, and yet I had never heard of it. And true to this warning, it really was very bad movie. It scored 4.9 on IMdB, and 33% on Rotten Tomatoes. (Frankly, I'm surprised it scored that high.) It was even badly named; though some of the action takes place in a dog park, not enough of it does to consider it the focus of the movie.
IMdB calls it a "sex comedy," while RT lists it under "comedy." I think they were shooting for "romantic comedy," and if so they shot themselves in the foot. Andy, played by Luke Wilson before he was really famous, is pining for Cheryl (Kathleen Robertson), who left him for Trevor (Gordon Currie), until he meets Lorna (Natasha Henstridge), who used to date Trevor until he was stolen by Cheryl. Lorna, however, refuses to be interested even though Andy proves what a stellar guy he is by holding her hair while she repeatedly throws up on their first "date" (if that's what you call it when a chick takes you back to her place after picking you up in bar). He even sends her roses afterwards, which she promptly trashes (except for the single one she saves). Why she refuses to give him a chance, when he is clearly into her and she liked him enough intially to invite him over, is totally unclear. It has something to do with fear of relationships, I think.
Thus rejected by Lorna, Andy ends up with Kieran (Kristin Lehman), who bought him at charity bachelor auction. Kieran, however, is all about the physical, while Andy is about something deeper. Meanwhile he envies the relationship of his best friends, Jeri (Janeane Garofalo) and Jeff (Bruce McCulloch, who also wrote and directed this sorry mess), until he finds out that Jeff is actually having an affair with Rachel (Amie Carey), who, coincidentally, works with Lorna.
So what does any of that have to do with dog parks? Well, they all own dogs, you see! Lorna has a dog named Peanut, who refuses to come when called. Andy has a Sheltie named Mogli, whom Cheryl stole when she went to live with Trevor and is consequently suffering from emotional trauma due to overexposure to Cheryl and Trevor's enthusiastic love life. The best part of the movie is the doggie psychologist, played with great camp by Mark McKinney, who is seeing both Mogli and Peanut. We only learn that Andy and Lorna have a mutual bond through Cheryl and Trevor when Andy, Lorna and Cheryl all meet up in good doctor's waiting room. (Jeri and Jeff's have two boxers, whom they call "the girls;" they are very well-balanced and don't need therapy, although they do attend Dr. Cavan's training school.)
There are a few scenes actually filmed in a dog park, though no park I can imagine. It looks like an enormous city park dedicated to dogs, rather than a fenced-in bit of a larger park. If you had a dog prone to bolting, you'd lose him there in the first five minutes. But while none of the characters or relationships in the movie have any authenticity, the behaviour of the people in the dog park rings true. In one scene, Jeri and Jeff search for a doggie deposit left in the dark, desperate to find it. Jeri even turns to the dog and asks, "Where did you leave it?" In another, one woman (I think it was Cheryl, but it could have been Kieran; all these characters seem the same to me) asks a woman in the park what her name is. The second woman freezes, holds her dog tighter in her arms, and replies, "I'm with Poppy." Then she walks off. Andy explains, "At the dog park, it's about the dogs."
Well, maybe that's a bit exaggerated. While we do tend to ask the dog's name and breed before asking any personal details (like the name) of the owner, when asked for their names people generally answer. I expect more dogs, and more park, from a movie called Dog Park. Maybe I should turn the blog into a screenplay; excuse me while I call Uma Thurman and see if she's available.....
I knew it was a bad sign that it had "famous names" in the credits, and yet I had never heard of it. And true to this warning, it really was very bad movie. It scored 4.9 on IMdB, and 33% on Rotten Tomatoes. (Frankly, I'm surprised it scored that high.) It was even badly named; though some of the action takes place in a dog park, not enough of it does to consider it the focus of the movie.
IMdB calls it a "sex comedy," while RT lists it under "comedy." I think they were shooting for "romantic comedy," and if so they shot themselves in the foot. Andy, played by Luke Wilson before he was really famous, is pining for Cheryl (Kathleen Robertson), who left him for Trevor (Gordon Currie), until he meets Lorna (Natasha Henstridge), who used to date Trevor until he was stolen by Cheryl. Lorna, however, refuses to be interested even though Andy proves what a stellar guy he is by holding her hair while she repeatedly throws up on their first "date" (if that's what you call it when a chick takes you back to her place after picking you up in bar). He even sends her roses afterwards, which she promptly trashes (except for the single one she saves). Why she refuses to give him a chance, when he is clearly into her and she liked him enough intially to invite him over, is totally unclear. It has something to do with fear of relationships, I think.
Thus rejected by Lorna, Andy ends up with Kieran (Kristin Lehman), who bought him at charity bachelor auction. Kieran, however, is all about the physical, while Andy is about something deeper. Meanwhile he envies the relationship of his best friends, Jeri (Janeane Garofalo) and Jeff (Bruce McCulloch, who also wrote and directed this sorry mess), until he finds out that Jeff is actually having an affair with Rachel (Amie Carey), who, coincidentally, works with Lorna.
So what does any of that have to do with dog parks? Well, they all own dogs, you see! Lorna has a dog named Peanut, who refuses to come when called. Andy has a Sheltie named Mogli, whom Cheryl stole when she went to live with Trevor and is consequently suffering from emotional trauma due to overexposure to Cheryl and Trevor's enthusiastic love life. The best part of the movie is the doggie psychologist, played with great camp by Mark McKinney, who is seeing both Mogli and Peanut. We only learn that Andy and Lorna have a mutual bond through Cheryl and Trevor when Andy, Lorna and Cheryl all meet up in good doctor's waiting room. (Jeri and Jeff's have two boxers, whom they call "the girls;" they are very well-balanced and don't need therapy, although they do attend Dr. Cavan's training school.)
There are a few scenes actually filmed in a dog park, though no park I can imagine. It looks like an enormous city park dedicated to dogs, rather than a fenced-in bit of a larger park. If you had a dog prone to bolting, you'd lose him there in the first five minutes. But while none of the characters or relationships in the movie have any authenticity, the behaviour of the people in the dog park rings true. In one scene, Jeri and Jeff search for a doggie deposit left in the dark, desperate to find it. Jeri even turns to the dog and asks, "Where did you leave it?" In another, one woman (I think it was Cheryl, but it could have been Kieran; all these characters seem the same to me) asks a woman in the park what her name is. The second woman freezes, holds her dog tighter in her arms, and replies, "I'm with Poppy." Then she walks off. Andy explains, "At the dog park, it's about the dogs."
Well, maybe that's a bit exaggerated. While we do tend to ask the dog's name and breed before asking any personal details (like the name) of the owner, when asked for their names people generally answer. I expect more dogs, and more park, from a movie called Dog Park. Maybe I should turn the blog into a screenplay; excuse me while I call Uma Thurman and see if she's available.....
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Winding Path to Dog Ownership, Part IV: Bernita
After Cookie left, the kids wanted another dog immediately. There was a black lab/Bernese cross on death row at one of the country pounds outside the city, and one of Marisa's volunteers dropped her at our house. My girls named her Bernita.
Bernita, for a pound dog, was grossly obese. Almost immediately after entering the house, the dog pooped in the kitchen. I blamed myself, thinking she had needed out after her long car ride from the pound, and I should have realized it. I took her out to pee, and she took off, racing through three yards before I cornered her. She refused to come when called, and when I tried to pull her, the collar came off. She was too heavy to lift. So I just turned my back and walked off, and thankfully she followed me home. After that, I only took her out on a least.
However, I couldn't take her out enough, and the puddles of pee accumulated in the kitchen. Bernita had arrived on a Wednesday evening, and by Thursday night, I was at my wit's end. She waddled when she walked, and often just plopped down, seemingly unable to walk any farther. She was fearful, but not aggressive; she would cry and roll on her back when given an order, but would not obey it.
I couldn't have a dog peeing all through the weekend, especially as we were invited to friend's for lunch Saturday. I didn't want to deal with an incontinent dog, and asked Marisa to re-home her immediately.
Predictably, the kids were hugely distressed. Whatever her other faults, Bernita was a kid's dog. On her first night, she spent an hour going from room to room, cuddling all three kids in turn. On Thursday night, she just climbed into bed with the Middle Child, and cuddled her all night. She lived to love and be cuddled by small people.
But the maintenance was beyond me. Although it was a Friday in December, and the Sabbath came in very early (around 4:00), we all loaded Bernita into the van and drove her to a new foster family about 30 minutes away. The new fosters were "professionals." Melinda was a stay-at-home mom, with three kids and her mother living with them. They had two dogs of their own, a Bassett hound and a Great Dane, four cats, and had foster birds and bunnies from the SPCA. They also had a fenced-in back yard where Bernita could be let out instantaneously when she had the need.
My kids patted all the cats, cooed over the bunnies, and made friends with two little girls, one of whom was attired in a princess costume. Poor Bernita cowered in the entrance hall, terrified of the Great Dane. Fortunately, her bladder held. She was whimpering and terrified when we left, and two of my kids cried all the way home. We spoke to both Melanie and Marisa later; Bernita got over her fear, settled in just fine, and her indoor peeing became a problem of the past. But my girls still talk about her as the "cuddliest dog ever," and it reinforced the message to me, lost through the perfection of Cookie, that fostering a dog could be more work than one is ready to take on.
 |
| Bernita |
However, I couldn't take her out enough, and the puddles of pee accumulated in the kitchen. Bernita had arrived on a Wednesday evening, and by Thursday night, I was at my wit's end. She waddled when she walked, and often just plopped down, seemingly unable to walk any farther. She was fearful, but not aggressive; she would cry and roll on her back when given an order, but would not obey it.
I couldn't have a dog peeing all through the weekend, especially as we were invited to friend's for lunch Saturday. I didn't want to deal with an incontinent dog, and asked Marisa to re-home her immediately.
Predictably, the kids were hugely distressed. Whatever her other faults, Bernita was a kid's dog. On her first night, she spent an hour going from room to room, cuddling all three kids in turn. On Thursday night, she just climbed into bed with the Middle Child, and cuddled her all night. She lived to love and be cuddled by small people.
But the maintenance was beyond me. Although it was a Friday in December, and the Sabbath came in very early (around 4:00), we all loaded Bernita into the van and drove her to a new foster family about 30 minutes away. The new fosters were "professionals." Melinda was a stay-at-home mom, with three kids and her mother living with them. They had two dogs of their own, a Bassett hound and a Great Dane, four cats, and had foster birds and bunnies from the SPCA. They also had a fenced-in back yard where Bernita could be let out instantaneously when she had the need.
My kids patted all the cats, cooed over the bunnies, and made friends with two little girls, one of whom was attired in a princess costume. Poor Bernita cowered in the entrance hall, terrified of the Great Dane. Fortunately, her bladder held. She was whimpering and terrified when we left, and two of my kids cried all the way home. We spoke to both Melanie and Marisa later; Bernita got over her fear, settled in just fine, and her indoor peeing became a problem of the past. But my girls still talk about her as the "cuddliest dog ever," and it reinforced the message to me, lost through the perfection of Cookie, that fostering a dog could be more work than one is ready to take on.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Fun at the Park
In spite of what my recent posts sound like, we have taken Our Best Friend to the park a few times in the last few weeks. And it's still the fun place that inspired me to start this blog in the first place.
I am always amazed at the number of new dogs (and new people) I meet. I keep thinking that after over a year, coming several times a week at different times of the day, I should know everybody by now. Yet there are always new dogs and new people, making for different experiences each time.
At the beginning of September I struck up a conversation with a woman who told me that she and her partner had just moved to the nieghbourhood, bringing four children and a dog together in a new, blended family. Yes, it was stressful and hectic, but wonderful too, and coming to the dog park was something they all loved. She even told me her name, and I gave her mine. She said she looked forward to seeing us again, I think because we're also one of the rare "families" that come. Naturally I haven't seen her since, and of course, I've also forgotten her name. But I hope we see each other again too. I want to hear that the two families are really becoming one, and see a happy ending unfolding in front of us.
We also met a young man with his girlfriend and his young miniature pinscher. I didn't even recognize the dog as a miniature pinscher, as it was smaller than most, with no black at all, only brown. I thought it was a rat terrier or chihuahua, and it ran through the park faster than the greyhounds. Just watching it go was highly entertaining, but I found when I reached out my hand to make friends, it backed off. "He's nervous around people," the owner explained.
Meanwhile, his girlfriend was tentatively reaching out toward Our Best Friend, who was being his usual aloof self with a stranger. "Can I pat him?" she asked anxiously. "I'm still nervous around dogs, but I'm trying to get over it." We assured her that Our Best Friend was perfectly harmless, and she patted him gingerly, starting when he moved. The irony was amazing: a dog afraid of people, and a girlfriend afraid of dogs. This dude never has to worry that she'll steal the dog if they break up.
And we did see old friends too. There's Happy, a black lab cross who "talks" in a highly distinctive hoarse bark. Princess, the golden retriever, always comes trotting fast when she sees my girls; she lives to be patted by small children, and mine are happy to oblige. Her owner is a slightly eccentric older woman with an amazing European air. She has her group of friends that she likes to chat with, but she's always gracious to my girls and we have a very cordial rapport. Sierra, a thirteen-year-old poodle, capers like a puppy and comes to press her head against me for a love, especially after her owner tells off for eating dirt. And we even saw Pal, whom I hadn't seen in months, a "goth" Dalmation with black rings around both his eyes and a sweet disposition. His owner is a quiet but friendly young woman, and we all spent a good ten minutes marvelling at the amount of white fur that covered the picnic table he was sitting on. My Oldest's skirt was covered in tiny white hairs when she was done playing. Lesson learned: Dalmation owners should not wear black.
And there were days I went and didn't see a soul I knew, or talk to anyone. You see people sitting on benches reading, talking on their cels, or actually playing with their dog. Whenever I go mid-morning, I try to remember to bring my iPod so I feel less alone. I know that's also part of the dog park experience, but the truth is, I like the interactive times better. I see the dog as a catalyst to relationships between people. The category "dog lover" is the common denominator that makes us find other factors we might share. And anything that helps people get along better is a good thing.
I am always amazed at the number of new dogs (and new people) I meet. I keep thinking that after over a year, coming several times a week at different times of the day, I should know everybody by now. Yet there are always new dogs and new people, making for different experiences each time.
At the beginning of September I struck up a conversation with a woman who told me that she and her partner had just moved to the nieghbourhood, bringing four children and a dog together in a new, blended family. Yes, it was stressful and hectic, but wonderful too, and coming to the dog park was something they all loved. She even told me her name, and I gave her mine. She said she looked forward to seeing us again, I think because we're also one of the rare "families" that come. Naturally I haven't seen her since, and of course, I've also forgotten her name. But I hope we see each other again too. I want to hear that the two families are really becoming one, and see a happy ending unfolding in front of us.
We also met a young man with his girlfriend and his young miniature pinscher. I didn't even recognize the dog as a miniature pinscher, as it was smaller than most, with no black at all, only brown. I thought it was a rat terrier or chihuahua, and it ran through the park faster than the greyhounds. Just watching it go was highly entertaining, but I found when I reached out my hand to make friends, it backed off. "He's nervous around people," the owner explained.
Meanwhile, his girlfriend was tentatively reaching out toward Our Best Friend, who was being his usual aloof self with a stranger. "Can I pat him?" she asked anxiously. "I'm still nervous around dogs, but I'm trying to get over it." We assured her that Our Best Friend was perfectly harmless, and she patted him gingerly, starting when he moved. The irony was amazing: a dog afraid of people, and a girlfriend afraid of dogs. This dude never has to worry that she'll steal the dog if they break up.
And we did see old friends too. There's Happy, a black lab cross who "talks" in a highly distinctive hoarse bark. Princess, the golden retriever, always comes trotting fast when she sees my girls; she lives to be patted by small children, and mine are happy to oblige. Her owner is a slightly eccentric older woman with an amazing European air. She has her group of friends that she likes to chat with, but she's always gracious to my girls and we have a very cordial rapport. Sierra, a thirteen-year-old poodle, capers like a puppy and comes to press her head against me for a love, especially after her owner tells off for eating dirt. And we even saw Pal, whom I hadn't seen in months, a "goth" Dalmation with black rings around both his eyes and a sweet disposition. His owner is a quiet but friendly young woman, and we all spent a good ten minutes marvelling at the amount of white fur that covered the picnic table he was sitting on. My Oldest's skirt was covered in tiny white hairs when she was done playing. Lesson learned: Dalmation owners should not wear black.
And there were days I went and didn't see a soul I knew, or talk to anyone. You see people sitting on benches reading, talking on their cels, or actually playing with their dog. Whenever I go mid-morning, I try to remember to bring my iPod so I feel less alone. I know that's also part of the dog park experience, but the truth is, I like the interactive times better. I see the dog as a catalyst to relationships between people. The category "dog lover" is the common denominator that makes us find other factors we might share. And anything that helps people get along better is a good thing.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Back to Reality
The holidays are finally over. Sukkot started almost two weeks ago (Wednesday night), and went straight through to last Saturday night. After all the cleaning, laundry, and general catching up, this has been my first chance to resume some normal actitvities.
The holidays were hard on Our Best Friend. I had decided that we were going to make sure he got adequate exercise over the holiday time. Good intentions, best-laid plans, man plans, G-d laughs, etc.
The holidays were hard on Our Best Friend. I had decided that we were going to make sure he got adequate exercise over the holiday time. Good intentions, best-laid plans, man plans, G-d laughs, etc.
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