Friday, June 30, 2006
Meet the Kosen Collie... For me, all collies are still Lassie. What can I do? Kosen Plush Toys has been around since the beginning of the 20th century and their toys are manufactured in Bad Kosen to this very day. (Read more about their history, design & manufacture at the link above.) I'm guessing that these are collector's items rather than toys...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
So, aside from Anonymous (find a way to prove it's you & your roll is on-its-way!), our other lucky winners are: A.M. from Pittsburgh PA and N.O. from Raleigh NC. Congratulations!!! I hope you'll think of us as you... actually... no.. I'd rather you not think of us at that time :-)
For all of you who were disappointed this time, we're already thinking up our next incredible prize! Stay tuned.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Kayle has a guide for choosing the right photo and writes that she likes to speak with each of her clients before starting her work. She also offers gift certificates - a great idea for people looking for a unique gift.
Note: Giveadogablog chose to feature thepaintedpet. This isn't an ad and we are not affiliated with them in any way.
Monday, June 26, 2006
This is me hanging out with my friend Pushkin. She's a Labrador Retriever, and we're pretty good friends. Before you think I'm two-timing on Barbie, you just gotta understand. Pushkin and I met long before I met Barbie, and it's always been 100% platonic.
Pushkin is staying with us this week while her guardians are in Russia, finding out about her namesake. They're going to Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Pulkovskaya. I know because my grandparents are going on the same trip. Pushkin and I are pretty good friends, although we have some difficulties with her liking to eat my food. She's pretty big on eating. I'm not so much of an eater, but I don't like people (or dogs) eating my food. The nice thing is that I got some free bones last time Leah ordered food, and I don't like them much, but Pushkin adores them.
Leah also likes to test Pushy's retriever abilities. Pushkin can catch a ball in the air. I can't. I try, but it's just... I'm just not good at it.
So for the next week, I have a pal here to hang out with. And in two more weeks, when Yaakov and Leah go to Ireland, I'll be staying with Pushkin's family!
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Some of my cousins go to California every summer, because they have grandparents and other cousins there. So this weekend, before they get on the plane, we had a party in the park, and I got to see almost all of my cousins. I wandered around, picking up crusts of tuna and cheese sandwiches. Some of the kids played soccer with Yaakov. I stayed with the adults during the game, because it was really too hot to run around, plus I'm not so good at soccer. I have two left feet, you know.
Most of my cousins are very excited to see me. My cousin Amiel (about 1.5) pulled my tail a little, but overall he was pretty gentle. Abigail (15 months) petted me very gently, and was very happy about it. She even sat on Leah's lap to pet me.
On the other hand, Yael (4.5) was a bit scared of me, and Dina (7) claimed to be terrified of me. I don't understand how someone could be scared of me. I'm soft. I have lots of nice white fur, and I never bite. I'll admit that sometimes I bark, but not so much. Usually, I'm pretty quiet. Why are my cousins so afraid of me?
Friday, June 23, 2006
Beagles are scent hounds that are used for hunting rabbits. I hope they aren't used much for that anymore. Rabbits seem too cute a creature to be hunted...
There are quite a few famous beagles, including Snoopy and Gromit (of Wallace & Gromit).
And the big news of the week? We named our turtle. Her name is Carmit (sounds kind of like Kermit, huh? Well, they are both reptiles...)
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Here's a picture from their site that caught my eye.
There's something special about the black & white. I like black & white photography in general, and now, when everything's color, it definitely still has its place.
And about their choice of model - this dog has the cutest, most innocent face, doesn't he?
I wish "dogasart" a lot of luck in their project. I'm sure we'll be seeing their pictures around!
About ten months ago I was running a high fever and feeling mostly dead from a virus called CMV. My temperature had been at around 104 F (40 C) for about 2 weeks. We woke up one of those lovely mornings to the sound of a crying child-- or perhaps crying children... We opened the door of our apartment to the hall and in front of our door was a cardboard box containing four (count 'em -- FOUR) puppies. They were cute. But they were puppies. There was no note. They had no food with them. As we soon found out, they had no clue that our carpet was not the friendly neighborhood poop place. And they cried at night.
Unable to care for them ourselves, under normal circumstances, but as weak as I was, impossible in this one, I started calling the local animal rescue organizations. The altruistic, humanitarian vet whose picture is in the paper practically weekly for his kindness to strays told us that he would take the pups if we payed in advance for all of their shots and a daily boarding fee until they were adopted-- this totalling several hundred dollars. The next animal rescue organization that collects relentlessly had no more room. The next one had an illness in their facility that prevented their taking another dog. In short, we were on our own.
Fortunately there were two people we knew who might take a pup each. One was a neighbor who had owned several very large dogs. Those dogs had either been stolen or escaped. They thought that perhaps a smaller dog would be easier to care for. They took one. We found out that eventually they gave him away because he was too small.
The second wa a friend of mine who had always wanted a dog, but whose husband was not enthusiastic about the idea. Actually, when she came over and fell in love with the puppy, in order to convince her, I offered free marital therapy in the event it became necessary. This is the dog we visited the other day and I am happy to report he is growing and healthy and loved and her marriage is still intact.
As to the other two pups, my husband, being a sweet and persuasive guy, went to the local shopping center armed with some puppy chow that Leah gave us and was able to find two families who happily took the dogs.
It was only after the fact that my husband figured out what had happened and why the puppies were left at our door. Our neighbor upstairs has a little male dog who is constantly running away and these puppies looked suspiciously like him. We think the owners of the mother mistook us for the careless owner of the father and were demanding a very active form of child support.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Rachel asked me what to name her, and I babbled something close enough to Dapel that the name stuck.
Rachel left home when I was three. She went away to high school. Since we don't have any other sisters (though we do have three brothers), we were always very close.
When she left, anything that was hers became very important to me. I mean, hey, my sister may be a hundred miles away, but I've still got the dirty socks she was wearing last time she came home! And hey, they even smell like her dirty feet!
(and I'm not exagerrating here) I worshipped my big sister, and everything of hers was really special to me. When she was away, she'd let me hold on to Dapel, and when she moved to Israel, when I was 7, she let me keep her.
I slept with Dapel every night - couldn't sleep without her - because it was a way of holding on to my big sister.
Dapel went through everything with me. When I had lice in 6th grade, she went through the laundry a good six times. When my brothers wanted to tease me, they'd put her in the oven, and once, one of them actually put her on a fork, and roasted her on an open fire. (There wasn't terribly much damage.) Somewhere along the line, I gave her a haircut, and after that, she's worn the sweater featured in the picture. Her hair never quite grew back... Dapel made around ten transatlantic flights with me. She's been with me the whole time.
My mom used to tease me. She asked me if I'd keep Dapel when I was in college. I said yes, and for three years, Dapel lived in my college dorm room.
She asked me what I'd do if my husband had a stuffed toy animal, and I said "Great, they'll play together."
My husband has a foam rubber skull. They DON'T play together. Dapel sleeps in our bed, and Charlie sleeps in the guest room closet.
Friday, June 16, 2006
I never really connected with animals in general and I never connected with stuffed animals either. The only animal I really like is our nameless turtle who lives in the garden. I'm always happily surprised to see her. I even laughed when I found her in the middle of my living room one day when I came home. I also loved my old turtle, Nobert, who my neighbor (several houses ago) threw out because he was eating all of their herbs (oops). I kind of liked my goldfish Ollie... I guess I prefer 'pets' that grow up and hopefully take care of themselves someday :-) (Though I could live without ever having to go to a parent-teacher meeting or class party again.)
I may not be capable of loving animals, but I am somewhat sentimental. Seeing Doppy's picture was kind of like running into an old friend...
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Second, how could your son be scared of dogs?!
I admit that I can be a little intimidating when I'm excited, but I've never bitten my cousin, or even scratched him. I will admit to a bit of licking, and maybe some jumping around, but that's just being friendly, and sometimes what some people call "the pee-pee dance." You people do it too. When you have to pee and the bathroom's closed, and you dance around. So dogs do it too. Just we're a little more directed. All we want is the door. Just the freaking door. Let me out. I want to relieve myself. I can't help it if I jump around a bit. It's my way of sending a clear message.
Like this morning. Leah overdid it at the gym,(You'll have to read about that later, after she blogs it on her health blog. ) so she didn't wake up until about three hours after Yaakov woke up, and Yaakov didn't take me out either, so I really really needed a walk. I waited really patiently for her to wake up, didn't bother her when the phone rang, didn't bug her while she was talking on the phone with her mom, and didn't bug her while she went to the bathroom, although I must say, I'm so jealous that she can do her business in the house without getting whacked on the nose and yelled at.
But when she came out of the bathroom, I just had to let her know that I needed a walk.
Of course, I'd forgotten (like always) that she has to put on all kinds of clothes. Apparently, there are two kinds of clothes; the kind she wears inside, called pajamas, and the kind she wears outside, called clothes. So, she apparently sleeps in the pajamas and won't take me out unless she's wearing clothes. I've been trying to explain to her about just wearing a simple fur coat all the time, but she claims she can't grow one.
Anyway, so she had to remind me to calm down about four times before I remembered about the clothes thing, and then I had to wait for her to find some, put them on, and then put on a hat and shoes. Humans have the most ridiculous feet. They're useless unless they have shoes on, but I digress. The point is that I was excited and jumping a lot of that time, but Leah wasn't scared, so why should my cousin be scared by a cute little doggie?!
In other news, I went to look in on Mishmish the other day, and I'm more and more convinced that she should be eaten. Leah still says no, and she says that if I'm going to blog about how tasty Mishmish would be, then she won't type for me anymore.
I swear that dog has a one-track mind. All he wants to do is eat the hamster. I'm beginning to think that getting a hamster was a mistake.
Matan, my 10-year-old son (not pictured) was behaving like a monster the other day. He'd been in the car (literally) no more than 2 minutes and was fighting with his older sister. It bothered him that he had to share the way-back seat of our station wagon (a Peugeot 406, with back seats that open out) with her and with our stroller. It bothered him that she was talking. It bothered him that she moved her head. The fist fight was about to begin.
"Would you like to get out and walk?" (I actually said this in the calmest, most friendly tone.) Surprisingly, he said yes. We pulled over to the side and he got out. It was about halfway between his friend's house and ours. Usually he walks both ways on his own - we had only picked him up because we were already in the car. I recommended that he run home and perhaps get rid of some of that excess energy he had. We drove away and got home just in time for Nomi (our 2-1/2 month old) to start screaming.
We expected it would take Matan (aka Harry) about 15 minutes to get home. About 25 minutes later, he still wasn't home and I thought he might have taken a detour to his father's house (about 20 minutes farther than home). The social worker was going to love that story... My ex would turn it into a clear case of neglect. Um... Abuse and neglect. Why not? Then again, the social worker has gotten a bit smarter lately and would probably realize that letting a 10-year-old walk 15 minutes in daylight isn't a crime (though having only one pencil in your pencil case is a crime... that is, if your parents are divorced). Anyway, I decided to go out and see if I could spot him on his way.
As soon as I was down the steps of the building, I spotted him and quickly ran inside so that he wouldn't catch me looking for him. He came back in a good mood and sort-of-kind-of-almost apologized for his terrible behavior. Later, while we were eating dinner, he asked if we knew what had taken him so long. He went on to tell us that he was almost home, down a long flight of stairs (I think it's a full four-stories) when he saw a little dog at the bottom. The dog looked cute (that's what Matan said), but Matan is scared of dogs, so he ran all the way back up the stairs and came home the long way. Poor kid.
I wonder what makes him so scared of dogs - he's never been harmed or chased by one...
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Here's just one more... (clicking on the picture will take you to the for sale page on eBay - and no, we don't get a cut :-)).
Got an artist to recommend? Send an email or add a comment and we'll check it out!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Anyhow, being a mom to two young children (and three over 10's)I've noticed that there's hardly a child's toy or book without a dog in it (except perhaps a ring tower or a xylophone - ok, there are a few other examples), so I thought I'd show some on the blog - dogs in toys.
This dog has a soft part that the baby can pet. I don't know what happened to the dog. It may have dressed up for Halloween as the devil, judging by its ears...
But before I let Poofy write, I just want to say a few things about my big sister's previous post. (and my mom's, of course).
First, I wanted to point out that the reason the 8-year-old's sister campaign succeeded was probably because it wasn't a campaign for a dog... (See DrSavta's post).
Next, I wanted to say that I never heard of Bibi the chameleon.
And finally, the hamster story is like this:
There was Albert (who was named after my best friend, because he named his frog Leah after me).
Then there was Herbie, which was cool, cuz it was AlBERT and HerBERT, but then it turned out that Herbie was a female, so we named her Alice.
When Alice died, I got another one, and I used a book of names to choose a name. Since Algernon means "with whiskers," it seemed apt.
After Albert died, I got Alvin, who went bald, and looked like the ugliest animal ever seen in a horror film.
When Alvin died, I was away at camp, and my parents replaced him with a sweet hamster who I thought was a girl. I named her Alisheva. When it turned out she was actually a boy... well, the name changed to Allen.
But... we've now broken the Al tradition. I'll let Poofy tell you about it.
I have a little sister! Really! Her name is Mishmish. She came home with Mommy and Daddy on Wednesday night.
Now Mishmish means "apricot" in Hebrew, and apricots are for eating. I tried to explain this to mommy, but she really doesn't get it. She keeps telling me to leave Mishmish alone, and that soon Mishmish will get used to us, and then I'll be able to sniff at her a little closer.
Meantime, I got Mommy to take some pictures of her.
Isn't she sweet looking? I say. If it's sweet, let's eat. Mommy isn't convinced.
Now, I'm not the jealous kind of big brother. I mean, let's face it, she doesn't get to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed. She doesn't get to go out for walks. She doesn't get to sit under the table at mealtimes waiting for scraps to drop.
Anyway, Mommy's off to the gym, so I have to go.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Crazy about dogs? Cottonelle offers an adorable java dog that runs across your screen, screen savers, wallpaper and more. I-love-dogs has a list of free things, including dog food recipes and dog e-cards. Free dog stuff lists companies offering free dog food and treat samples. Know about other freebies? Add a comment!
Friday, June 09, 2006
This dog belongs to Nomi Inbar who is 2-1/2 months old. She is waiting for Nomi to be big enough to name her. For now, she barks 3 times when you press on her left hind leg (is that how you say it? I'm not much of a dog person...)
Want to submit your stuffed dog's picture for our consideration? Click here. Don't forget to attach the picture!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
You see, it started one day about 3 or 4 months after your father and I got married. We were out one Sunday afternoon at a shopping center just outside of Louisville, Kentucky, when we came upon a little boy with three little puppies in a box. Your father commented that they were very cute. The boy asked him if he wanted one. I pulled your father into the store. When we came out, the boy and his puppies were still there. The little boy told us that if he didn't give them away, his mother was going to take them to the animal shelter and they would meet a not so kind fate. Your father looked at me with eyes as sad as the little boy's and as the puppies' and what could I do?
We took the little puppy home and within a very short time he tried to attack one of the neighbor's 30-some cats. The cat was bigger than he and although he suffered no injuries, we decided that he had to stay inside. However, from that encounter he gained the name "Atrocious Ferocious."
He was a very smart little pup and in one day he learned which parts of the house he could go into and which parts he couldn't. However he did cry at night and your father would get up with him and take him outside. Still, the crying didn't please me and the puppy was a lot of work and I finally told your father that he had a choice: Animals or children.
Well, the rest is history. Atrocious Ferocious was adopted by a family who loved him deeply. He grew and flourished. And we had children. All in all, I think it was a wise decision.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
- She is the result of a well-run campaign of an 8-year-old who really, really wanted a sister.
- Her first dog was also abandoned at one point, but by me... She loved Dapel* so much that he had to be hers.
- She did not grow up in an animal-loving family. The only pets we had before she was born were fish (that nearly turned into chowder when our house burnt down - yes, they survived.)
- During her childhood I recall having a variety of animals - mice (both wild and caged), a chameleon**, hamsters (all of whom had names starting with "al" - ask her for the list), and a rabbit. Did I miss anything?
- She has a giant stuffed frog that is currently being stored at my house. (Want it back? Please?)
And Poofy dear, tell me... does your collar have quarters on it?
"Aunt" Rachel (grrr.........)
* Dapel was a stuffed animal I got from my parents when Leah was born
** Bibi the chameleon (this was before Netanyahu's time, no connection) - I always thought she had committed suicide by jumping of my window sill on the second floor. It took me over 20 years to figure out that she probably just crawled down the wall... imagine over 20 years of guilt for nothing...
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
I saw it while I was busy thinking how jealous my ex would be of Poofy (all those kids & no child support to pay, gets to call their mom a bitch and no one thinks badly of him...) and surfing the web aimlessly instead of taking advantage of the few hours I could have used to sleep. (Not to complain, but thank G-d, I have 5 kids, including 2 babies under 15 months, my husband got called away yesterday on reserve duty and my twins' 10th birthday was today. I hadn't really had much time to plan ahead (blame the babies, again) and so I spent part of the evening (between & after calming my colicky baby) busy making them t-shirts and trying to pick up enough toys so one could safely walk across the living room.) Once I'd finished all that, I really should have been sleeping instead of surfing.
But I wasn't & Justine Smith's site made it almost worth it. Some of the things are fabulous - creative, colorful & interesting. I just have to show you another :-)
OK, I'll just put away the dishes and go to sleep...
This is a picture of me when I was a puppy, with my mommy, Leah, just after she adopted me.
Can't you see why she adopted me right away? I was such a cute puppy!
It's been seven years since then, and I've grown pretty attached to her. A couple months ago, she married Yaakov, and while Yaakov won't adopt me officially, he's a great stepdad, and he takes me for walks, covers me with blankets, and even buys me squeaky toys. I love squeaky toys, but they scare me a bit too.
My newest squeaky toy lost its squeak, and now I like it much better. Before you think I'm all about the squeaky toys, you should just understand, I'm a family man. I'm married to a beautiful girl named Barbie.
Here's a picture of Barbie and Leah:
Isn't she beautiful? We also have five children together. I'll have to show you their pictures sometime, too. They're beautiful, and I'm pretty sorry that they can't live with me, but Leah says that it's too much responsibility, because I don't know how to housebreak them, so she'd have to do it, plus they wouldn't know not to run away, and they would wake up at night. Yaakov says that we should get a human puppy instead. Leah says we probably will, so then I guess I'll find out what it's like to raise a puppy.
Anyway, my squeaky toy is waiting for me, so I'm going to get back to it. Have a great day, all.
Monday, June 05, 2006
I'm Leah, and I'll be representing Poofy, the cutest, fuzziest dog you've ever met.
Today is Poofy's first day as a blogdog, so he's not sure what he wants to say. Right now, he's lying on the couch, listening to the sounds out in the hallway, and barking softly at Sven, the Golden Retriever who lives across the way.
When I write for Poofy, I just quote him directly, so I'll be writing from his point of view:
Hi people and dogs. It's been a very tiring few days, because it's been very hot out, and there were children visiting who thought it was very fun to put my leash on me and take me for long walks. When it's this hot, I gotta tell you, I just don't like to walk that much. On the other hand, these kids were very sloppy eaters, so there were great goodies on the floor. Plus, they kept asking for hot dogs and not finishing them, and you know what THAT means...
So I've been eating pretty well, but now that they're gone, it's back to the dog food for me. That's why I'm lying pensively on the couch, barking softly at Sven.
Have a good day folks.
Last night, before I fell asleep, I thought about co-writing a blog with her... one where she could write about her dog's experiences (real or imagined) and I would write about not understanding what people find in dogs... We could make it both funny and interesting.
We could have special sections like "dog art of the week" and "dog character of the week", we could put up information and tips about raising dogs, dog humor, links to other dog blogs, etc.
Co-writing would make it more interesting. She'd comment on my posts and I'd comment on hers...
"What do you think?" I asked.
I'm waiting for her response.