Monday, January 28, 2013

A Dog Day in the Country by Chi-Ping

Oh, what a day. I took off with Geri at the break of morning. Blondie wanted back in the house, as soon as the door opened. Geri headed up the road with the pole that touches the ground in front of him and behind. That means we’re going to have a good time. This man carries a big pole. He knows what he’s doing. He points the tip of the pole at the object he desires, whap, the fruit is on the ground. Soon we’re heading back to his house.
I pranced into the yard with Geri. The door to the house closed before I could get inside. Hey, I’m still in the yard. I barked. The door didn’t open for me. The yard gate is tight, no way out. No water, no pad, like a street dog, I’m in the sun with my black coat.
The scent of lunch drifts out the door, my mouth waters. We earned our meals this morning. My services in this endeavor are important. I am protection from rats, or snakes or even from mongoose. You don’t really want to catch a mongoose, just bark and make a big show of it. The mongoose usually knows to move along. It’s not welcome here. Humans are usually grateful when you save them from a rat. Humans emit an odor when they become afraid of something. Don’t pay any attention to what they say or how they act. The smell tells. I should be in for a good lunch today.
Sounds by the door tell me he’s coming. Lunch smells so good. What’s coming my way? My tails wags fast. I set my legs so I don’t fall. Geri lights a cigarette once outside the door. Don’t pet my head with that smelly hand. Where’s my food? Hey, you saw the rat I killed for you. It was a big, mean rat. I’m jumping on your leg for my wages. Don’t be laughing at me! People, what’s wrong with them?
Once free my legs flew up the driveway. Where’s Blondie? Open the door, I need some water. Blondie, move over I need a spot on the sofa. Get your nose out of my butt I’ll tell you all about what happened to me. What do you mean? Later, you have to go out.
Oh, well, let me see what’s in the bowl. Sometimes, if I stand by the refrigerator door wagging my tail at sonic speeds, she gets the message. Cheddar is rapidly becoming a favorite.
Later, y’all I have human training to do.

Friday, January 25, 2013

A Dog's Broken Heart by Chi-Ping

Blondie trusts that woman; not me, I know better. You try really hard to please them. You never know what they’re yelling about, and then one day you go for a car ride never to return. I don’t care how nice they seem; they’re all no good. We animalitos should just take what we can get. Worry about a human is a waste of time.
Look how long I worried and prayed for the one who dropped me off on the hill. My heart ached. I thought she cried for me. She threw me out. I didn’t know, I thought the SUV made her do it. She threw me out; didn’t want me.
She picked me up. She hugged me so tight I thought I’d never get my breath. She would shake me before dropping me like a rock. When she did this, she squealed. The rest of time I was tied up right there with my waste. But I loved her. She was my life and she threw me out.  
I wag my tail for any human. It’s better when they are nice. When a hand comes my way to hurt me, I bite hard. I no longer have to put up with shaking and being squeezed ‘til I pop.
Word on the street is to never get into a car. You don’t come back. So this has happened to more than me. One day you’re an unsuspecting pet, and the next you’re standing on the side of the road wondering what happened. What kind of a creature does this?
Blondie went for a ride. I held my breath the whole time she was gone. Blondie and Stormy were my first street dog friends. Stormy died before Christmas in 2011. He was hit by a truck. Blondie went to New Orleans with me. She’s my best friend. I’ll hate that woman if anything happens to Blondie.
The car finally pulled into the driveway. Blondie barked. I barked. Blondie couldn’t wait to tell me about the super market, all the good stuff in the trunk of the car, and how she barked at all the satos she passed on the street. She said, “Look at me. Look at me. I’m in a car.”
I took the treat she offered, as she put the things away. Later, I fell asleep at the foot of her bed. She stroked my head and kissed me good night.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

A Case of Predatory Drift

Recently been reading some posts on line questioning the if predatory drift really exists. The following experience is in my opinion an example.
Chi-Ping, the rat terrier mix and Blondie, the big former street dog were playing tag running from the yard to the porch. Smoki, the curmudgeon cat inserted himself into the game hissing and puffing at the big girl, who had her play face on and backed up as he puffed at her. She even gave him a half assed play bow. It was a sweet family moment. I smiled feeling good about my animal friends.
Something in the grass or down the hill caught Blondie’s attention for a second or two at most. She looked in the direction of the edge of our property, when she looked back her whole demeanor had changed. She was stiff, upright, ears forward.
The cat raised his paw to swat her again. Her mouth opened. I delivered the stop what you are doing sound. Luckily both critters looked at me. Blondie looked as if she came back to a place where she wouldn’t hurt Smoki.
The whole thing lasted but a moment, but it was a Jekyll and Hyde moment.  I suspect this was one of those predatory drift moments.
Blondie and Smoki have lived together for eight months. Smoki is the house boss because he is the one most comfortable with his humans. With a life time of experience training dogs Smoki had no problems with the tough street veteran in the house.
Outside on Blondie’s home turf where she has killed rats and cats and who knows what else. This was the first time I had all three of them outside together.
So much of the discussion on line is about dogs in play groups. During my years running dogs in day care groups, it seemed to me that most of what people thought of as predatory drift was another behavior anomaly or one dog with a history with another taking a cheap shot.
So what do you think?   

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Chi-Ping Says Dog Problem, No, Human Problem

She goes from window to window looking to see where Blondie is. I can feel her tension. The mystery is why she worries. Blondie has spent five years living on the street and only almost one living with her. She prepares dinner, when not watching for the sata with the identity crisis. I rest on the sofa considering Blondie’s problem. It is a problem when you have a home with people who love you, and you think you should be out on the street barking at cars in honor of your dead sato friend Stormy. She’s right, Blondie is one messed up critter.
Whatever she’s cooking smells good. My right eye opens just as a morsel falls to the floor. I’m on it before the cat knows what happened. That was good. Her cooking isn’t bad. I don’t care what they say. She rushed out the door to look for Blondie while I licked the floor. So suddenly there I am with a powerful urge to pee. I stayed out all last night just so I wouldn’t pee in the house. I’m back in for five minutes, she gives me a tasty bite and then she’s not there when I need to pee. I’ve got to go and, no, she’s not here for me. She’s looking to see what Blondie is doing. That’s just great.
Quickly I dash into the office behind the massage table. Poppy’s already gotten his treatment for the day. She won’t be in there until tomorrow. Oh, that feels better. Maybe she won’t know. The door opens. She goes to stir her pot, so I am back on the sofa, when she turns to look at me. My face and ears just fall when she looks at me. At first it seemed like she didn’t notice, but when she set her spoon down and walked toward the office I knew.
I give her the patented, Chi-ping, I know I did wrong, but I’m a poor little girl look. She smiled. It looked like I was home free, when she picked me up and carried me to the door. I still maintain that it was not my fault.
Blondie the fat house pet is making a fool of herself in the street barking at cars. Blondie’s been doing that a lot lately. We both have been thinking about Stormy since we’ve been back. Stormy taught us all we know about being street dogs. He was a great street dog. We miss him, but Blondie doing this chasing cars thing like him doesn’t make sense. He tried to teach her how to chase cars, but she never could get it. She never understood why he did it until the day one killed him. She hates the truck that ran him over. She is starting to hate cars.
Better to run in the woods chasing lizards, so we’re off. Enjoy your day. Chi-Ping     

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

A Dog Day by Chi-ping

Oh, happy day, she’s so proud of me for not soiling the house last night, she gave me some of the cat’s moist food from a can. The cat was having a fit, telling her that’s my food, my food. She doesn’t speak animal or didn’t care. The cat food was coming my way. Yeah, the hell with Smoki, the complaining cat. Give me some good stuff!
Smoki had moist food in his bowl, but he wouldn’t shut up about his food. He gets me all nervous because he is the number one pet. I can’t chance that he won’t make her change her mind. I gulped that Fancy Feast down fast. I felt rushed like Blondie was breathing down my back. She wasn’t even in the house or you know whose feast that would have been.
I was so excited. You know what I did? I ran into her office and wet. My ears gave me away. I ran back in the kitchen where she was and gave her the, I’m sorry I screwed up ears. She knew right away what I’d done.
With the humiliation I could have died. There’s Smoki, meow, meow; still complaining about his food, and she’s looking for the mishap. When she found it, she didn’t say anything, just gave me a look that told me sad and disappointed.
Being outside in Puerto Rico is not a punishment. Knowing I’m not inside on a pillow hanging with her because I screwed up is a punishment. It’s all her fault; she gave me the cat’s food. She should have known I’d get all excited. A girl forgets her manners sometimes, when she gets excited. I’m just a little girl. I grew up on papers.
Before long I headed down the road to see what the neighbors put out for the satos. The corner sniffing post, which in human terms is a bulletin board, had a strong masculine scent. This required further investigation. He’d been and gone the story of my life. Woe is me. Some of these bitches getting ready to go into heat; just what this island needs is more puppies.
At nap time, I headed back to my porch. She opened the door. The pillow called me. I swear it spoke my name. Wake me for dinner. Chi-ping     

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Chi-ping's Night Without House Soiling

Hi, again; it’s Chi-ping. I have been trying really hard not to pee or poop in the house. It’s hell, when she’s not happy with me.

Last night I slept in the living room on the sofa with Blondie, who doesn’t sleep in the bed because she’s an old street cur. When she sleeps Blondie doesn’t like anything touching her. Slightest bump she jumps up with a bad attitude, no cuddling during the night with that bitch.

I went to bed at first. She was on her side reading, so I could snuggle behind her knee. I get right in there at the bend and push into it with my back. Let the breath out slowly. I say aah, and then fall into a restful sleep.

The next thing I know she was stretching as she put her book on the nightstand. Needless to say this wakes an animal up. But I realized when I am in the bed I sleep more soundly.

“So”, you say. This is not good because when I wake up, I stagger over somewhere to wee-wee. What do you want from me? That’s how I grew up. Papers, to this day I see a newspaper and I want to wet it.

This doing your stuff outside is new to me. My human mom got lost in her SUV, and left me by the side of the road. With no papers in sight, I had to improvise. I wet outside. Now, this woman thinks I should do it outside all the time. The pressure it puts on a little girl like me is just too much.

Still, I try to work with her, so I slept on the sofa with cranky Blondie. When I woke up having to go I cried. She came flying in the living room on cue. I ran outside, did my business. She’s going to be so happy today. I can see some treats coming my way. Ha-ha!

Now, it’s 6 am, just getting light; let’s see what shit we can get into before breakfast! Enjoy your day, Y’all.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Accident in the House

Hey, y’all, it’s Chi-ping. Do you like that? I learned y’all in New Orleans, sounded so colorful. I’m colorful, so I use it.

The neighbors here aren’t as friendly as I remembered them; not bad, but not so welcoming, as I thought they would.

When I come running toward her, she yells, “Good girl, yeah!” I show off and run even faster, if it’s possible up hill. She gets excited easily.

Honestly, I try not to shit and pee in the house, but sometimes it just happens. Like last night, there I was pushing out the last nugget, when I realized I’m in the house. I let out a whimper so loud. She hopped out of bed. I ran to the door to get the hell away from the poop. I skid through a puddle, oh, no, here she comes. I got really small. It was dark, maybe, she didn’t see me. I crept close to the wall, bam, back in bed before she turned the light on.

She picked me up kindly enough, but I could feel that she was peeved. It’s funny how you just know these things. Tucked under her arm, without a chance to protest, still so stunned this wasn’t just another dream, shit, I was hoping to wake up and still be in the bed.

Next thing you know I am standing on the carport and the light goes off. The only comfort I got was from Blondie, who was bouncing in front of me to go check out the new dog at my old digs. Blondie must be over her fear of going out at night. She’s all ready to go. Me, I just shit and peed. I’m ready to go back to sleep.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

A Pet's Lament

Hi, Chi-ping here again.

I am so happy to be back in Puerto Rico, where I can get out to run. That walking on the leash thing we did back in New Orleans was getting old. Always what direction she wanted to go in, no pooping over here. She micro managed everything; including what tidbits is could munch on. Imagine being denied fresh cat dukie. Back in the street with my friends; what could be better.

Blondie is all wacked out; not wanting to leave the house, and will not go out after dark. Can you imagine a big brave dog like that? I got her to go visit the neighbors this afternoon. Blondie was in the street ready to chase cars, like old times, when she whistled. Blondie ran back home. Me, I stayed at the neighbors just to show her.

We’re on the outs anyway. She can’t expect me to remember to do my stuff outside. I was raised in a house to go on papers. This crazy woman thinks I should do it outside. When you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. I say she should put papers down and ease up.

She doesn’t let Blondie out with me too often because I lead her away from the house. At the other house, where I lived down the hill, there’s another dog. I’ll bet that’s her fault too.

If she didn’t give me all those good little treats and pet so well, I’d be out of here in nothing. I don’t know what Blondie sees in her. There’s something to be said for being on the street and running your own life.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013



It’s me, Chi-ping. So much has happened. Somebody must tell you, even if she won’t. We’re back in Puerto Rico, where it’s warm. Don’t let anybody tell you New Orleans doesn’t get cold. I liked to freeze the tip of my tail off. Maybe, that’s why some of those dogs from the states don’t have tails. They froze off. It’s really frightening.

I flew home with my folks and the crabby cat, Smoki. He’s always showing me his front paw, like it has a thorn in it or something. He thinks I’m afraid of him. Hah, I laugh at his puny weapon. I snapped at him once in the bed. She tapped my butt with the remote control, which insulted me. I showed her. I went to the end of the bed to lay down. How she could take that old cat’s side; I don’t know.

As I walked through the airport with my tail held high, people looked at me, smiled and pointed. I felt like a star, until she put me in a bag, and stuck something down my throat. The lights went out a little later.

When I woke up we were in Aguadilla. I went outside to potty. This man kept pointing at me saying,” Boricua dog, Boricua dog.” Well, of course. I guess that’s just another thing I’m famous for, like traveling.

When we got out of the car, I ran right down the hill to tell everybody I was home. The lady, who took care of me when I became a street dog, chased me out of her yard. She must be so upset that she didn’t get to come with, so that’s what jealousy looks like. It’s not too pretty, I’ll tell you. I bounced up the hill my house, my house; I’m not a street dog.

The folks went to pick up Blondie after midnight, leaving Smoki and I to spend some quality time. She thinks she’s funny, when she tells me shit like that. Everybody knows dogs protect the house. I bark alarm. That bossy cat doesn’t. I’ll never know what she sees in him.

Blondie jumped around, all happy when she got home, but then went into a blue funk like you’ve never seen. She didn’t know if she was a pet or a street dog. She acted afraid to go into the house. I showed her several times. It didn’t help. She can be a bit slow, if you know what I mean.

See, I told you a lot has happened.