tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-292885602024-03-07T10:34:00.898-08:00Give a dog a blogThree writers and a dog...Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-9363267443840568862016-01-17T04:57:00.000-08:002016-01-17T04:57:29.749-08:00In My Arms<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Seventeen years ago, I brought a little puppy home in my arms.<br />
Today, he can no longer walk. Again, I will take him in my arms, to the next place.<br />
<br />
Today, I do so with tears in my eyes, and more love than I ever could have imagined on that day that I brought him home in my arms.<br />
<br />
Poofy has been an incredible friend, and I will miss him more than I can express.<br />
<br />
I am so lucky to have had him for all these years.<br />
<br />
While he will no longer be in my arms after today, he will forever be in my memories and those of my children.<br />
<br />
Thank you Poofy, for being a friend, for being a companion, for being everything a dog can be.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-48741839364150341612011-09-21T05:21:00.000-07:002011-09-21T05:21:11.341-07:00Almost 13<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6G4cfFm_0-k6o4Kt3-evqQth7xTIBmax0HIsc9HGBzuYbZgLus10BFEOI7x4S8rvocqAxRwpY52CsqLKmh15CRf4-UpKpcC-kDHvNymSqmPSmy8-W9-38MN0PZkYSV_ZWtHi/s1600/IMG_1105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6G4cfFm_0-k6o4Kt3-evqQth7xTIBmax0HIsc9HGBzuYbZgLus10BFEOI7x4S8rvocqAxRwpY52CsqLKmh15CRf4-UpKpcC-kDHvNymSqmPSmy8-W9-38MN0PZkYSV_ZWtHi/s320/IMG_1105.JPG" width="320" /></a>I can't believe that Poofy's almost thirteen years old. Since I found him on a warmish December day, I've married, had two children, developed a chronic disease, made friends, had several jobs. Poofy's been the constant through all of it.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, he really bugs me. He needs more walks these days. Sometimes, I end up walking him five or even six times in the same day. He insists on being petted. Sometimes, he's in my lap when I really want to hold one of the children.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, though, I think back to when he was a puppy and it was just me and Poofy against the world, and I think, it's been a great run, Poof. I'm so glad you've been with me all this time. I hope you have a few more good years left in you! </div>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-9723047426528703012007-11-24T10:50:00.000-08:002007-11-24T11:25:09.948-08:00Doggy MemeI was tagged by <a href="http://trilcat..blogspot.com">triLcat</a> (a.k.a. Mommy) for this meme.<br /><br />8 passions in my life:<br /><ol><li>Keeping bad guys away from my family</li><li>Barking at Sven (the neighbors' Golden Retriever)</li><li>Snuggling</li><li>Chewing my bone</li><li>Trying to eat Mishmish (the hamster)</li><li>Going for walks</li><li>Chicken</li><li>Cheese</li></ol>8 Things to do Before I Die<br /><br /><ol><li>Finish one of those real bone bones.</li><li>Learn how to roll over</li><li>Mark every tree, bush, and lamppost in Modiin</li><li>Learn to Blow Shofar<br /></li><li>Learn to bensch (say grace after meals) instead of just sitting on someone's lap for it.</li><li>Show that Amstaff who's boss!<br /></li><li>"Reunite" with Barbie<br /></li><li>Catch a cat<br /></li></ol>8 Things I often say:<br /><br /><ol><li>Woof</li><li>Hav Hav (Hebrew for woof woof)<br /></li><li>Howwwwl</li><li>Ruff</li><li>Arf</li><li>Bow-Wow</li><li>Ah-Choo!<br /></li><li>*yaaawwwn*</li></ol><br />8 Books I Read Recently:<br /><br /><ol><li>Cujo - Stephen King<br /></li><li>Wolves of the Calla - Stephen King<br /></li><li>The Bone Collector - Jeffery Deaver<br /></li><li>The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold<br /></li><li>The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon</li><li>My New Boy - Joan Phillips<br /></li><li>Harry Potter and the Yummy Biscuit</li><li>The Bible - Jack Russell Edition</li></ol>8 Songs that Mean Something to Me:<br /><br /><ol><li>How Much is that Doggie in the Window?</li><li>Poof the Magic Dragon</li><li>Get Along Little Doggies</li><li>Has Anybody Seen My Dog?</li><li>You are the Little Dog - by Yaakov</li><li>Is Das Nischt a Poofy Dog? - by Saba</li><li>Poof Poofon (similar to Pil Pilon)</li><li>Hard Day's Night</li></ol>8 Qualities I look for in a friend:<br /><ol><li>Loyal</li><li>Friendly</li><li>Kind</li><li>Energetic</li><li>Likes napping</li><li>Doesn't pull my tail</li><li>Isn't scared of me</li><li>Has a good smelling rear end</li></ol>8 people I am tagging:<br />How about 8 reasons my tail is WAGGING:<br /><br /><ol><li>triLcat pets me</li><li>I get to eat cheese, eggs, and margarine</li><li>Kinneret looks at me and she likes me!</li><li>I'm allowed on the couch and the bed</li><li>Since they put in curtains, it's easy to look out the window and keep track of the neighborhood</li><li>I think the new squeaky toy is really for me, even if they think it's for the baby.</li><li>It's nice and cool out</li><li>I might be going for a walk soon!<br /></li></ol>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-2369480555477390252007-08-19T10:49:00.000-07:002007-08-19T10:54:52.029-07:00Just a Quick Post<span style="font-style: italic;">I just wanted to ask you all to welcome my new human, Kinneret Esther, pictured below on the left. The big girl on the right is my Aunt Rachel's youngest daughter Nomi.</span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggP1a1CVhX7oSkwYVnCIn48mcoFBCVfS068K1tJ0UtobC0tIoARAVDxyqY6EuG779NoGBiNffNirYwVLNTj8LH_YMOlYGUDSwdTlPL25W93uuRqnID2CtgEuEqnFXQMjttBpTU/s1600-h/Nomi-Kinneret.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggP1a1CVhX7oSkwYVnCIn48mcoFBCVfS068K1tJ0UtobC0tIoARAVDxyqY6EuG779NoGBiNffNirYwVLNTj8LH_YMOlYGUDSwdTlPL25W93uuRqnID2CtgEuEqnFXQMjttBpTU/s400/Nomi-Kinneret.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100470641794420210" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Other than that, I have a picture of another canine relative of mine from Copenhagen, Denmark.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Photo courtesy of my uncle Sam.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsnGgXV5R6WG5Mma8gPPMv0z-ySZKSeHTIQb0zAHZK_vada2gE2ElCUI8X_f_XmKXofE0wuwguzaje5Cn6sHzNkkdZ3hS_vCKxrBCTR6DWfXUaR8CANoIStcffHKAt9SG48x3/s1600-h/Copenhagen+Dog.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsnGgXV5R6WG5Mma8gPPMv0z-ySZKSeHTIQb0zAHZK_vada2gE2ElCUI8X_f_XmKXofE0wuwguzaje5Cn6sHzNkkdZ3hS_vCKxrBCTR6DWfXUaR8CANoIStcffHKAt9SG48x3/s400/Copenhagen+Dog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100471238794874370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">It's important to note that this canine got a much skinnier mom. I hope that doesn't mean that he's not being fed well...</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-68504918176200040012007-05-16T15:00:00.000-07:002007-05-16T15:09:12.550-07:00A Family Outing!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKgk2rZ6xHTwkTnLXp_qCet21H3IlBwH5xU2juG6Ze2oiOK_spN6GihEvtrev6bpHm9swx3L5saOQb4dcOaZPivlVJJ7kIgZsm_z6CUxyAqxhTnlU9P9M1zkyGA6a1i_WqHkc/s1600-h/family+reunion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKgk2rZ6xHTwkTnLXp_qCet21H3IlBwH5xU2juG6Ze2oiOK_spN6GihEvtrev6bpHm9swx3L5saOQb4dcOaZPivlVJJ7kIgZsm_z6CUxyAqxhTnlU9P9M1zkyGA6a1i_WqHkc/s400/family+reunion.jpg" alt="Poofy Dog, Barbie Dog, and kids!" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065282499499855474" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I've spoken before about my lovely wife, Barbie. I've mentioned that we have five children, too. Until a very short time ago, I hadn't met these children though. About two weeks ago, I finally had the opportunity to see four of my five children and to see Barbie again. Her humans aren't so keen on us spending time together, since they ended up cleaning up after our numerous progeny for a while.<br /><br />Anyway, we all met in the park, and we had a great time, barking and sniffing and all that good stuff.<br /><br />The two up in the air are L: Hercules (male) and R: Lollipop (female). They were adopted by the same family and are growing up together. Standing on their hind paws, supported by humans are L: Chiquita (female) and R: Banda (male). Down in front, standing on all fours are L: me and R: my sweet beloved Barbie.<br /><br />Unfortunately, Shoko, the fifth child was unable to make it.<br /><br />And Banda, I'm sorry I tried to fight with you. Sometimes being a dog makes it hard to curb your instincts. Now that Leah explained that fathers aren't supposed to fight with their sons, I feel somewhat embarrassed about the whole situation...<br /><br />- Poofy<br /><br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-90728964667854156142007-04-09T12:51:00.000-07:002007-04-09T13:10:09.485-07:00A Week of Unleavenedness.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdjgXaRxYwIZnEcAl4ufNVcLQIWqRhFRPVPbrlqvyPWyAchNiuTbuUgKI9lK5jp9arYzGtEBSZd89exXXpQFst3CZAEwRtGSMVkLI-uYzqvZ-DJVXWAlPj95XwsxWHslFeMCe/s1600-h/Dog+Matza+Passover.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdjgXaRxYwIZnEcAl4ufNVcLQIWqRhFRPVPbrlqvyPWyAchNiuTbuUgKI9lK5jp9arYzGtEBSZd89exXXpQFst3CZAEwRtGSMVkLI-uYzqvZ-DJVXWAlPj95XwsxWHslFeMCe/s320/Dog+Matza+Passover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051522956343666050" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This week, in addition to containing a holiday where rabbits lay eggs, was also the week of Passover. Someone will have to explain the whole concept of rabbits laying eggs to me, but in the meantime, I'll tell y'all a little bit about Passover.<br /><br />About 3000 years ago (That's a LONG time, so I might not have it exactly right, but I know it was more than 2000, b/c 2000 years ago is when rabbits started laying eggs, and this was way before that.) the Jews were building pyramids in Egypt, and they were very sad, because pyramid building is hard work. So G-d said that the Egyptians should let them go. And Pharoah thought that was a lousy idea, b/c let's face it, good workers are hard to come by. So then there were all these plagues: blood, frogs, lice, wild beasts, you name it, it was BAD times in Cairo...<br /><br />Anyway, in the end, the Jews were allowed to leave, so G-d told them to grab their gear and go. This meant that they had to bake their bread fast without giving it time to rise... so each year, for one week, all these Jews don't let anything rise.<br /><br />You'd think this whole story doesn't have much to do with a dog like me, but it does...<br /><br />Passover is totally the doggiest Jewish holiday. First, when the Jews left Egypt in the middle of the night, all the dogs kept quiet so they wouldn't wake the Egyptians. In the Torah (Bible), it says about certain parts of the meat that people aren't supposed to eat them, rather dogs are, and the rabbis say it's because of us keeping quiet that night.<br /><br />Second, the rabbis have the funkiest way of deciding if something counts as food or not... Let's say you have a deodorant which contains wheat germ. Well, it might count as food, so maybe you shouldn't have it in the house on Passover... But it might not be food either... so who do you call? ME! That's who. I'll give it a sniff. If it's food, I'll try to eat it. If it isn't food, I won't bother. If it isn't food, it's not a problem to have it in your house on Passover.<br /><br />So, all in all, it's a pretty doggie holiday, but here's the thing - my food has to be wheat, spelt, barley, rye, and oat-free for Passover, because Leah's not allowed to have any of the above (except when it's baked into Matza) in the house. So my Savta (Leah's mom) went to buy me special food, and it actually tasted pretty good. In addition, I've been munching on Matza and Gefilte Fish (think meatballs, only made of fish and kinda sweet). It's been a nice week.<br /><br />Now would someone please explain to me about rabbits laying eggs?! Aren't they mammals like me?<br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-15389292646907783472007-03-21T14:35:00.000-07:002007-03-21T14:45:02.473-07:00Some Doggy Thoughts<span style="font-style: italic;">You know, it's kinda hard being a canine blogger. Sometimes, I just feel like I don't have what to say. I mean, there's only so much you can write about the merits of a good bone or chunks of margarine.<br /><br />On the other hand, I know my loyal readers are waiting for my next dose of brilliance, and I hate to disappoint. The big change going on in my life is that Leah's pregnant. This mainly means that she whines more about taking me out and that she sleeps more during the day. She also periodically talks to the little guy (or girl - I know but I'm not telling anyone, not even Leah. Us dogs just know these things.) and calls it Poogle.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdbkkC-q5yrSGlcjdfdVf1WAJecbeEjOYUQc6ogc-pJea3ikJYjTh14pMbIGHUjuiKigyJ1thyphenhyphenahoT_Fb6x8DSeHXh0NYMcfyr0Jg5u2udNYZiFm9ARSLi50VockQBIqOGlc7/s1600-h/golden-doodle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdbkkC-q5yrSGlcjdfdVf1WAJecbeEjOYUQc6ogc-pJea3ikJYjTh14pMbIGHUjuiKigyJ1thyphenhyphenahoT_Fb6x8DSeHXh0NYMcfyr0Jg5u2udNYZiFm9ARSLi50VockQBIqOGlc7/s320/golden-doodle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044496740165363026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Of course, whenever she starts saying "Poo...." then I think she's going to talk to me, but noooo...she wants to talk to Poogle. Hello, it's not like 'Poogle' even understands what she says. I mean, me... sure I'm not much of a talker, but I can understand stuff.<br /><br />But that's life. Since I don't talk, I don't get a say in anything. It's har</span><span style="font-style: italic;">d</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">being a Poofy dog!<br /><br />Anyway, here's a picture of some dogs Leah met in Philadelphia. </span><span style="font-style: italic;">The big one is a Golden Doodle - a Golden Retriever mixed with Standard Poodle. She really liked it.<br /><br />Have a great day, folks!<br />Poofy Dog<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1164021558182521122006-11-20T03:16:00.000-08:002006-11-20T03:19:18.193-08:00Answering Fan Mail<span style="font-style: italic;">Hi Folks,<br />I got some fan mail a little while ago. I figured that some of you might have the same question... so here it is:<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"><b>From:</b> limeywesty<br /><b>Subject:</b> [Give a dog a blog] 11/12/2006 10:27:03 PM<br /><br /></span>poor poofy.<br />now, don't take offense at me asking, but, how did you get your name?? <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">From: </span>Poofy<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear LimeyWesty,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Hi. It's Poofy here. First, I find it interesting that you don't even HAVE a name, yet you talk about mine...</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Secondly, my correct title is: His Royal Highness King Poofy I, ruler of the entire doggie universe. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Well, okay, Leah corrects me and says that I was this fluffy-wuffy ball of fur, and she tried to say Puffy, but it came out Poofy because she was so overcome with emotion and was doing strange things with her voice. She also points out that I always seemed to like my name, although there are times I respond to being called Buffy or Spoofy. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It's important to note, however, that I am an Israeli dog, who lives with an American mom and a Canadian step-dad, so neither of them think of Poofy as having homosexual connotations. Especially not since I knocked up their friend's dog. I'm a proud father of 5! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Thanks for your concern, though!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Poofy P. Goodman</span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1154900840593057432006-08-06T14:36:00.000-07:002006-08-06T14:47:20.613-07:00This is a Little Embarrassing.<span style="font-style: italic;">Hi,<br /><br />It's Poofy. I haven't written in a while, and I'm afraid that what I have to tell now is very embarrassing.<br /><br />I got fleas.<br /><br />I'm so embarrassed, I can't even tell you. I haven't had fleas in so many years, I thought that it was one of those things that I would never have to face again, but then... You should have seen me scratching. Leah was sleeping and Yaakov woke her up because I was scratching too much. She starts petting me backwards, and making my fur all yucky, and then suddenly, she shouts.<br /><br />I mean, jeez, like I wasn't embarrassed enough without her shouting about it. So then Yaakov gets up, puts on his glasses and examines the offending flea. Meanwhile, Leah's looking all over me for more fleas, and she's all upset, and then Yaakov kicks me out of the bed because he doesn't want fleas. (I <span style="font-weight: bold;">do </span>get that.)<br /><br />Luckily, Leah had an ampule of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/redirect.html?link_code=ur2&tag=trilcatgoesan-20&amp;camp=1789&creative=9325&location=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2F6-MONTH-Frontline-PLUS%2Fdp%2FB0002J1FLW%2Fsr%3D8-5%2Fqid%3D1154900155%2Fref%3Dpd_bbs_5%3Fie%3DUTF8">Frontline</a> so my humiliation was short. That stuff is GREAT. I mean REALLY great. You put it on and voila, instant relief. The fleas die in minutes. Then there are a few bites that need to heal, but that's it. The nice thing is that I don't like getting wet or having stuff put all over me. Leah just opens the ampule and pours it on the back of my neck - and it's only a few drops - and then it's done. And the best part - She's not allowed to wash me for THREE MORE DAYS! She was planning on washing me, and I got a three day reprieve!<br /><br />Leah said to tell you that she means to post a picture of my Irish cousin who she took a picture of when she was in Ireland. I told her that she shouldn't bother to talk about it until it's done.<br /><br />Humans, go figure.<br /><br />Night all,<br />Poofy<br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1154209758468839392006-07-29T14:28:00.000-07:002006-07-29T14:49:18.500-07:00Not dead & not playing deadWell, it wasn't the sudden illness that kept me from writing... and no, I'm not dead. (My older kids were watching a <strong>very</strong> poor movie - "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0258470/" target="_blank">Bubble Boy</a>" last week, where at one point the star takes off his "bubble" and passes out and his mom (played by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001436/" target="_blank">Swoosie Kurtz</a>) says to him, "You're not dead!") They really liked that line.<br /><br />It isn't even the war in <a href="http://drsavta.com/wordpress/category/israel/" target="_blank">Israel</a> that's kept me from writing... Actually, I'm just too busy <a href="http://www.fertilitystories.com/fertilityblog/" target="_blank">working</a>. In addition to <a href="http://www.fertilitystories.com">Fertility Stories</a>, I help companies improve their sites' <a href="http://www.5blocks.com/usability_testing.html" target="_blank">usability</a>.<br /><br />My daughter, <a href="http://www.fertilitystories.com/fertilityblog/2006/04/nomis-here.html" target="_blank">Nomi</a>, who I thought was over her <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baby_colic" target="_blank">colic</a> decided that being 3-months-old was no reason to quit the habit. She gave us a few days of relatively quiet evenings & then went back to it with full force (she's already 4-months-old). She did, however, start sleeping through the night and actually has been sleeping 12 hours straight, unless her big (16-month-old) sister wakes her up (like today).<br /><br />Today, <a href="http://trilcat.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Leah</a> and <a href="http://www.yaakov-and-leah.com/" target="_blank">Yaakov</a> came over for a few minutes with Poofy. He was wild. He even started barking a few times. I guess he smelled Vardit, our tri-colored cat (who my husband locked in our room for the duration of Poofy's visit). Abigail (the 16-month-old) knows Poofy, but she didn't want to pet him today - she didn't like the fact that he was so jittery.<br /><br />Maybe if he'd rolled over and played dead.Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1152119964413038942006-07-05T09:55:00.000-07:002006-07-05T10:19:24.440-07:00Sick as a dogAfter Nomi (my 3-month-old)'s 4:30am feeding, I started to get a stomach ache. By the time my husband got up, I was <a href="http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-sic1.htm" target="_blank">sick as a dog</a>. Fortunately, my babies decided to give me a chance to rest a bit & they both got up again after 9:30... It was still a long day.<br /><br />The twins went to summer day camp and my 12-1/2-year-old, being the typical teenager, was frustrated when I woke her up at 11 to help me a bit. By the time the twins got home, I was running a fever. The older kids pretty much got themselves lunch and even sat to feed Guli (Abigail), but the older girls got into a fight over who would go to the supermarket to buy me a bottle of Coke so that maybe I'd have enough energy to sit up... I ended up drinking soda water and sending the younger one to her room for pulling the older one's hair. Hadas, Matan and I sat and watched <a href="http://www.justlikeheaven-themovie.com/" target="_blank">Just Like Heaven</a> which was OK, but nothing spectacular. Guli played with her toys most of the time. It was only later that she took out <strong>all</strong> of the tablecloths and dragged them all over the living room.<br /><br />After that, the kids split up - Hadas went to sing & dance (she's participating in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arad,_Israel" target="_blank">Arad</a> Music Festival next week, singing live for the first time this year - what is it with playbacks?); Matan (aka Harry) went to ride his bicycle (he rides with a group twice a week, 2-3 hours each time) and Lilach (aka Judy) tried to do laundry, but ended up dumping the laundry soap on the floor and then running out when her father (from whom I'm happily divorced) announced he was outside waiting.<br /><br />I'm still feeling sick and I'm dog tired, but Guli's already in bed and the sky is beginning to get dark - signs that I may yet survive this day...Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151871832976759972006-06-30T13:10:00.000-07:002006-07-02T13:25:35.756-07:00Stuffed Dog of the Week - #4<a href="http://www.grannys.com/acatalog/Kosen_Dogs.html" target="_blank"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/kosen_collie.jpg" border="0" /></a> While looking for stuffed dogs, I found a Kosen dog that was adorable. Further investigation led me to a <a href="http://www.grannys.com/acatalog/Kosen_Dogs.html" target="_blank">catalog of Kosen dogs</a> and I had a hard time choosing which would win the "stuffed dog of the week" contest for this week. In the end, I decided upon the most life-like of the bunch, though a lot of them are really fabulous.<br /><br />Meet the Kosen Collie... For me, all collies are still <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lassie" target="_blank">Lassie</a>. What can I do? <a href="http://www.grannys.com/" target="_blank">Kosen Plush Toys </a>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...Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151873816145433632006-06-29T13:48:00.000-07:002006-07-02T14:00:08.546-07:00The Lucky Winners!Um. Well. We promised you doggie toilet paper and it's all wrapped up and ready to go - so who's the brilliant one who signed up with the name "Anonymous"? I mean... it's gonna be a little hard to prove that that's you, that you're the real winner... I almost think that you didn't really take this very seriously... Alas...<br /><br />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 :-)<br /><br />For all of you who were disappointed this time, we're already thinking up our next incredible prize! Stay tuned.Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151873188445747622006-06-27T13:34:00.000-07:002006-07-02T13:47:02.110-07:00Dog Art - Pick of the Week #4How about this - an oil painting of your favorite pet, based on a photograph that you took? That's what Kayle Lamar of <a href="http://www.thepaintedpet.com">thepaintedpet</a> is offering.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://www.thepaintedpet.com"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="Pet portrait by Kayle Lamar" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/pet-portrait-shasta.jpg" border="0" /></a> 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.</p><p><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Note:</strong> Giveadogablog chose to feature <a href="http://www.thepaintedpet.com" target="_blank">thepaintedpet</a>. This isn't an ad and we are not affiliated with them in any way.</span> </p>Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151323162543722712006-06-26T04:45:00.000-07:002006-06-26T04:59:22.553-07:00My Guest<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4635/1584/1600/Jack%20Russell%20Terrier%20and%20Labrador.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4635/1584/320/Jack%20Russell%20Terrier%20and%20Labrador.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151230298418252562006-06-25T02:59:00.000-07:002006-06-25T03:11:38.426-07:00End of Year Party.<span style="font-style: italic;">Since most of my cousins are humans, (with the exception of my cat cousin Vardit and my newly-named turtle cousin Carmit) they go to school in the fall, winter, and spring.<br /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br />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?</span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151179207239728712006-06-23T00:43:00.000-07:002006-06-24T13:00:07.250-07:00Stuffed Dog of the Week - #3<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/redirect.html?link_code=ur2&tag=kidsclean-20&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;camp=1789&creative=9325&location=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fexec%2Fobidos%2Ftg%2Fdetail%2F-%2FB000FL3ODO%2Fref%3Dpd_rvi_gw_1%3F%255Fencoding%3DUTF8%26v%3Dglance" target="_blank"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 177px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" height="175" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/stuffedbeagle.jpg" border="0" /></a>About time we had a beagle on this blog, right? So here he is, a <a title="Dog" href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/redirect.html?link_code=ur2&tag=kidsclean-20&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;camp=1789&creative=9325&location=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fexec%2Fobidos%2Ftg%2Fdetail%2F-%2FB000FL3ODO%2Fref%3Dpd_rvi_gw_1%3F%255Fencoding%3DUTF8%26v%3Dglance" target="">stuffed beagle</a>, our stuffed dog of the week.<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beagle" target="_blank">Beagles</a> 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...<br /><br />There are quite a few famous beagles, including Snoopy and Gromit (of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/redirect.html?link_code=ur2&tag=kidsclean-20&amp;amp;camp=1789&creative=9325&location=/gp/search%3F%26index=blended%26keywords=wallace%20gromit%26_encoding=UTF8">Wallace & Gromit</a>).<br /><br />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...)Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1151007941970962252006-06-22T13:18:00.000-07:002006-06-22T13:25:41.980-07:00Good for some'm spamGot a smile out of this line:<br /><br />"A dog who attends a flea circus will most likely steal the show."<br /><br />And, by the way, if anyone knows why they add these weird things into spam, I'd appreciate an explanation...Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150828403673632782006-06-20T11:21:00.000-07:002006-06-20T23:59:46.973-07:00Dog Art - Pick of the Week #3I admit it, I actually went looking for dog photography... I found a project run by <a href="http://www.dogasart.com" target="_blank">www.dogasart.com</a>. They're building up a portfolio of artistic dog photos that, "portray dogs in a way that gives them the distinction they deserve".<br /><br />Here's a picture from their site that caught my eye.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.dogasart.com" target="_blank"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/dogasart.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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.<br /><br />And about their choice of model - this dog has the cutest, most innocent face, doesn't he?<br /><br />I wish "dogasart" a lot of luck in their project. I'm sure we'll be seeing their pictures around!Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150788575115829492006-06-20T00:07:00.000-07:002006-06-20T00:29:35.126-07:00Out-of-wedlock DogsThe other day we went to visit a friend and saw the dog she had adopted about 10 months ago. It brought back memories.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.DrSavtahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16806179834308247075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150721779257045882006-06-19T05:35:00.000-07:002006-06-19T05:56:19.280-07:00More on Dapel.When I was born, Rachel received Dapel, who was fluffy and white, with a pink bow on her head.<br />Rachel asked me what to name her, and I babbled something close enough to Dapel that the name stuck.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />(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.<br /><br />I slept with Dapel every night - couldn't sleep without her - because it was a way of holding on to my big sister.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />She asked me what I'd do if my husband had a stuffed toy animal, and I said "Great, they'll play together."<br /><br />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.Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150663267058211612006-06-16T03:21:00.000-07:002006-06-18T13:41:07.066-07:00Stuffed Dog of the Week - #2It's Doppy (Dapel's nickname) - the dog that I got when triLcat (Leah) was born and that she named & later adopted (see <a href="http://giveadogablog.blogspot.com/2006/06/poofy-let-me-tell-you-little-bit-about.html" target="_blank">previous post</a>). I really thought that she had been laid to rest, but it turns out that she lays to rest all day long on my sister's bed to this very day...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/doppy.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/doppy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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.)<br /><br />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...Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150369402845459002006-06-15T03:43:00.000-07:002006-06-15T04:03:22.856-07:00Scared of Dogs?!First, from the library to the house would be four flights up, seven flights down.<br /><br />Second, how could your son be scared of dogs?!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">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 s</span><span style="font-style: italic;">ending a clear message.<br /><br />Like this morning. Leah overdid it at the gym,(You'll have to read about that later, after she blogs it on her <a href="http://fighting-fibromyalgia.blogspot.com">health blog.</a> ) 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.<br /><br />But when she came out of the bathroom, I just had to let her know that I needed a wal</span><span style="font-style: italic;">k.<br />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.<br /><br />Stupid Humans!<br /><br />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 </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Leah wasn't scared, so why should my cousin be scared by a cute little doggie?!<br /><br />In other news, I went to look in on Mishmish the other day, and I'm more and m</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4635/1584/1600/hamster-cage-mishmish.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 190px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4635/1584/200/hamster-cage-mishmish.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">ore convinced that she should be eaten. Leah still says no, and she says that if I'm g</span><span style="font-style: italic;">oing to blog about how tasty Mishmish would be, then she won't type for me anymore.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />bye folks,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Poofy<br /><br /></span>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.<br /><br />Leah<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Leah Goodmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16546935038863589318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150366621075338942006-06-15T02:59:00.000-07:002006-06-15T03:36:52.566-07:00Why are people so scared of dogs?<img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/peugeot406sw.jpg" border="0" /><br />Matan, my <a href="http://www.fertilitystories.com/fertilityblog/2006/05/happy-birthday-to-my-ivf-fet-babies.html" target="_blank">10-year-old son</a><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.fertilitystories.com/fertilityblog/2006/05/happy-birthday-to-my-ivf-fet-babies.html"> </a>(not pictured)</span> 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.<br /><br />"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 <a href="http://www.fertilitystories.com/fertilityblog/2006/04/nomis-here.html" target="_blank">Nomi</a> (our 2-1/2 month old) to start screaming.<br /><br />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 <strong>is</strong> 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I wonder what makes him so scared of dogs - he's never been harmed or chased by one...Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29288560.post-1150228645084888212006-06-13T12:45:00.000-07:002006-06-13T13:11:03.683-07:00Dog Art - Pick of the Week #2The competition was tough. I saw some great stuff. Ones that even made dogs look soooo cute that even someone like me felt like cuddling up with a snuggly puppy (yuck! Is that me talking?) The great colors were probably what really grabbed me.<br /><p align="center"><a href="http://www.whitedogstudio.com" target="_blank"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/whitedogstudio.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"><a href="http://www.whitedogstudio.com/html/about.html" target="_blank">Karen Barton</a> who paints these paintings and <a href="http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQfgtpZ1QQfrppZ25QQfsooZ1QQfsopZ1QQsassZhiQ2dnabor" target="_blank">sells her signed prints </a>(rather cheaply) on eBay certainly made me smile :-) You can see more of her work at <a href="http://www.whitedogstudio.com" target="_blank">www.whitedogstudio.com</a>.</p><p align="left">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 :-)).</p><p align="left"></p><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/MANY-Wonderful-DOG-s-Folk-Pop-Dog-Print-KB_W0QQitemZ7422398306QQihZ016QQcategoryZ20158QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem" target="_blank"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.10topics.com/dogpics/fullhouse.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p align="left"></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Got an artist to recommend? Send an <a href="mailto:rachel@10topics.com?subject=dog">email</a> or add a comment and we'll check it out!</p><p align="left">Rachel</p><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="center"></div>Rachel Inbarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06605780418673759318noreply@blogger.com2