Who needs Halloween candy...

...when you're surrounded by sweetness like this?



(Oscar's head is in my lap, Fiona is on my shin)

Be More on Pit Bull Awareness Day!

Today is the Third Annual Pit Bull Awareness Day!

In past years I've shown you videos and thrown facts at you.

This year, I need to ask you a favor.

B-More Dog has been chosen out of all the animal organizations in the country to be one of sixty four entered in Rachael Ray's Mutt Madness competition. It's run like a football playoff, with half the groups each week moving on to the next level. Each time they do, they win money. The last group standing wins $50,000!

There are some really amazing groups in this competition - sixty-four really amazing groups, to be exact. And B-More Dog is still fairly new, having been an official non-profit for less than a year. But we've done terrific things already.

We've gone to a few schools in Baltimore with our dogs, and taught the kids how to behave around dogs, taught them why abuse and dog fighting is wrong, and encouraged them to work with their own dogs in training classes - after we left, one youth said he wanted to be a dog trainer when he grew up!

We've collected leashes and collars for free distribution to those who don't have their dogs properly secured.

And our biggest accomplishment, in my opinion, is B-More In Control, a program the city backs fully, that we've given at several area shelters. Targeted towards people who've received citations on animal issues, but free to anyone who wants to attend, we're teaching people how to better judge canine body language, where to find activities they can do with their dog that will help keep the dog happy and healthy and within the confines of the law.

$50,000 could go a long way for a group like this in spreading these programs to a larger audience, finalizing lesson plans and audio-visual additions to the program that would allow us to go beyond Baltimore, and helping everyone realize that breed of dog doesn't matter, taking responsibility does.

Please, please sign on to Rachael Ray's website and register to vote in Mutt Madness.



As I said, it's like a sports play off, so you'll have to vote for a group in each of the brackets. Also as I said, all sixty-four groups are really amazing, so you can't go wrong no matter who you vote for. The first round ends tomorrow, October 25 - Please vote for B-More Dog to continue!!!

And tell everyone you know!

Can You Handle The Truth?

Pit Bull Awareness Day is this weekend! Will you think of rumors, or will you know the truth?

Whisper or scream

Today Oscar and I went to get his rabies vaccine. He isn't a fan of the vet's office, so we decided to try a low price clinic our local humane society does. Lots of places do of this - check your area! - it's just $5 for the shot. We went in, and discovered I didn't have the right paperwork. It took two phone calls to two different vets, but we finally got it so they would fax it to the humane society.

While we were waiting, Oscar was alternating between uber slut and screaming banshee of excess energy. Everyone was very patient and kind, and I spent almost an hour just trying to practice obedience - by which I mean, I would give very basic commands that he does in his sleep and he would vibrate and shriek and occasionally sit, down, or heel. A bit hyper-stimulated was my boy.

But he still loves him some people, so he was allowed to meet everyone who was interested. One man came over, and I knew right away what television show he watches too much of. The man apparently decided that Oscar should be allowed to sniff his hand, right hand only, but not lick. So he reached for Oscar, hand neatly curled up as though he were hiding a treat, and would say "good boy" when Oscar sniffed and then, when the tongue came out
PSSCCHHHT

Which succeeded in having Oscar look at him like "Oh, I'm sorry, did you just have a stroke?" and then try to kiss him again. And get a response of
PSSCCHHHT
from the man.

This happened three times, with me going from mildly amused to pretty dang irritated (I kinda really, really freaking hate it when people reprimand my dog when he's just being a dog)

Finally, the man looked Oscar in the eye, wagged his finger at him like an 18th century school marm and said, quite sternly,
"You are not the boss of me. I am a man. You are a dog. You are not the boss of me."

Well, now that we have that clear. We'll look past the fact that dominance is a thoroughly out-dated behavioral concept, and that most behaviorists and animal experts think a certain television show is teaching people very dangerous methods that are harming animals. We'll forget all that and focus on the fact that I really, really hate it when people reprimand dogs for being dogs. And I hate it more when it's my dog.

Jackass.

Oh, well, Oscar obviously isn't any worse for the wear -

we went to Petsmart after where he was stuffed full of treats by every employee they have, and where he didn't even pee inappropriately, after I stopped him that once from attempting to claim the toy aisle as his own.


Lest you think I've given up the lure of the sheep, I do have a very few pictures from a recent project. A friend's mother had some pet sheep for a while, and they are starting to get old, the sheep and the mother, and the family has decided not to replenish the herd. So the friend (who collects geckos and has an extremely cute pit bull named Newt) asked me if I would be able to help make something memorable as a surprise for mom. And yes, I can!

So I was delivered a big box of wool, about a pound of it, which looked like this


Then I washed it


laid it out to dry


carded it

(with help)



and now I have this pretty stuff to play with



I'll spin it up and knit a hat from it, a really lovely Christmas gift.

This never happens when I go to the barber...

DOG - TRATO IGUALITARIO - TREAT EQUAL IGUALDAD ANIMAL - STRAY ANIMAL FOUDATION

Two thousand, nine hundred, ninety-six.

One thousand, eight hundred, twenty-six.

It’s hard to picture any one thing in an amount like either of those two numbers, isn’t it?

So how about these numbers: Eight. Three. or One.

Eight years of little anniversaries, romantic gestures, dreams, and planning for the future. Eight years of marriage. Eight years that aren't enough.

Three children, growing and learning and loving. Three sets of school plays and football games and high school proms and moving into adulthood. Three children doing that without a father.

And just One Benjamin Suarez.



One man, father, husband, brother, uncle, friend.

One Benny, who can no longer show of his tattoos signifying his two great passions - the name of his wife Sally on one arm, and a dragon entwined with the emblem of the New York Fire Department on the other.


One Benny who was tender and romantic, often remembering little anniversaries even his wife forgot.

One Benny, who had dreams of buying a house with his wife. Who wanted nothing more than to make Sally happy, saying “'I could live in a cardboard box, but I have to make sure you have the house you want.'”

One Benny who grew up in Brooklyn always active in church and the community, so that becoming someone who spent his life working for others was a natural progression.

One Benny who was a familar face to all in the neighborhood, who could go no place in the district where he wasn't known and loved by all.


One Benny, who loved his job as a firefighter in Manattan’s Ladder Company 21, at 38th Street for the excitement, the time with the community and because the flexible schedule allowed him to be with his children and attend their events proudly, sometimes bringing the whole ladder company along with him.

Two thousand, nine hundred, ninety-six lives were lost on September 11, 2001.

That was two thousand, nine hundred, twenty days ago, when
One Benjamin Suarez, at Thirty-Six years old, after working a Twenty-Four hour shift, called and said his last words to his wife:
“I have to help the people”.


~~~~~

The Tower

Into the Tower, we must go
There’s people in trouble,
We all know.

The towers stretch into the sky
Over one hundred stories high.

As people run out every way
They are in trouble they can not stay

Down the stairs, they must go lower
To leave the danger of the tower.

For damage caused to the towers beauty,
We must go in, it is our duty.

As we go high we have to poke
Because the thickness of the smoke

Its getting hot as we go higher
The intense heat of burning fire.

This is real, its no dream
As people run, and people scream

As things drop of the damaged tower
People hide and people cower.

We did not know it would fall
We done our duty
We gave our all.

Written by David Boyce
On the 30th of May 2004

South Wales police officer sc7061 Boyce was one of 340 to attend 9/11 memorial 2002 at Ground Zero and says:

Since returning to the United Kingdom after the 2002 memorial visit I found my spiritual side and I started writting spiritual poetry.
This came to me one morning on 30 May 2004 by a fire fighter by the name similar to Suarez. Until a short time ago I did not know if this was correct.
I have just looked at the lost list and found the name Benjamin Suarez who was lost at 9/11 WTC.
I had the visions of actually going up the stairs within the tower whilst the rescue was taking place, although I [had] never actually been to New York until the 2002 911 memorial.
Please send this to the relevant people who may appreciate this poem.

God Bless them all
Dave Boyce
~~~~~

Janine of Staten Island made this quilt for the family of Firefighter Benjamin Suarez, in his memory. The quilt was delivered in person to the fire station in August 2002.