Rivalry Returns... (with a conspiracy theory)

The NHL playoffs are about to get interesting... finally. (Now that those irritating Nashvillains have been put in their place.... the golf course). The Red Wings next opponent is the always-hated Colorado Evil.. Avalanche.

It's been a number of years since the teams have met in the playoffs.. Well, the Wings have been there, but the Avs have been golfing by this point in the season.

But when the rivalry was hot.. was it ever hot! What hockey fan (the rest of you can move on to another blog at this point) will ever forget this:

.

But the league is trying to effect Detroit's concentration with the most bizarre rule ever handed down: No swinging the octopus over the head! WTF is up with that? Ah well... Wings in 6. Bank it.

Back to dogs and other stuff.

UPDATE: This is too funny!. Game 1: Detroit 4, Colorado 3.

Pins and Needles

It's always something.

For the next 24-36 hours I'll be keeping a watchful eye on young Mr. Sandia.

He sleeps soundly every night on a stack of blankets next to the bed. Till around 6:30 or 7:00am... then he goes into his active phase, counter surfing, table hopping, etc. This is when he gets destructive... grabbing a plastic cup from the bathroom sink and chewing it up, finding the leather sunglasses case and chewing it up, reading paperbacks by ripping out the pages... and mostly- looking for something to eat. You get the idea.

About 6:45 this morning, as I was dragging my ass out of bed, (Margaret had spent the night at her parents to prepare for their meeting with a lawyer this morning), I saw Sandia bouncing something large and cylindrical by the sink. It looked like the blank CD container. If only. It was a container of raisins. There weren't nearly as many as there had been last night when I put the container up in the overhead storage, (absently leaving the door open). He had apparently got up on the ottoman and then the chair to retrieve them.

If you have dogs, you know this is a bad thing. Potentially one of the worst things. Toxicity can occur with as little as 0.16 oz per Kg of body weight.. in Sandia's case that's about 4 oz. I estimate he ate around a half cup, possibly more.

Researchers still haven't found what it is in raisins (and grapes) that is toxic to dogs and cats. A micotoxin is suspected, but hasn't yet been identified. Toxicity manifests itself in some cases in acute renal (kidney) failure, and anuria, (lack of urine production). These are sometimes fatal, and can occur in just a couple of days.

I got on the Internet to see if I could use Hydrogen Peroxide to induce vomiting. Indeed I could. Knowing it was OK, and being able to squirt it in his mouth? Something altogether different. If Rally is the most perfect patient veterinarians have seen, Sandia is her evil twin. By myself it was impossible to hold the dog, open his mouth, and squirt the H2O2 in. Not enough hands. Time to call Margaret and wake her up. I was going to need the car anyway.

I think I manged to squeeze about 15ml into him with no result. I walked him and he started gobbling grass like a milking cow. OK... he was going to do it his way. Still nothing.

Meanwhile, Margaret had called Ann Arbor Animal Hospital and we were good to go. I dropped her back off at her parents and made a beeline to a place I hadn't seen in at least 15 years. Believe me, it didn't look like the picture you'll see at the link back then! In fact, my experience with AAAH goes back to the '70s, when Doc Hergott ran a small 2 exam room facility in a little red house at the same location. That's Ann Arbor for you. They told me Doc was still alive, which is surprising considering all the time he spent at Stadium Tavern, just across the street, where I was tending bar to supplement my GI Bill college fund.

But I digress. I brought Sandia in, and he was immediately swept away behind closed doors.. (I really hate when that happens).. to have vomiting induced. No WalMart Hydrogen Peroxide here, they gave him an injection of Apomorphine. He only vomited up about 12 raisins. He was also given activated carbon, which is an absorptive... to pick up any toxins in the digestive tract and carry them out the back.

They took his blood for a CBC (complete blood count), and a "comprehensive organ function" scan. All values at the time were normal. I have to take him back tomorrow and have this $125 worth of blood tests done again. It never ends. I believe I will follow Patrick's advice, (#8, way at the bottom of the post), and question the $25 dollar item entitled: "Nursing Care Daytime"(?) Just how is that different from the $50 office visit?

Anyway, I will be watching the boy for signs of vomiting and diarrhea (none so far), increased thirst, (about normal), and lethargy, (everybody in this house is lethargic at some point of the day... right now, for instance). Other than being a little quieter than normal, and he's had a traumatic day, he seems pretty normal. His evening walk did give up the evidence that some raisins made it out of the stomach before the Apomorphine made it in.. I made like a CSI and counted around 2 dozen,inflated and looking more like little grapes at this point. Later in the evening, more raisins were produced along with the activated charcoal... now that's something to see: jet black stools.

If we make it through the night without any incidents, I think we'll be out of the woods. And believe you me... I'll be doing a thorough scan of the counters before retiring tonight. Good practice for everyone.

Tractor Supply Company Takes a Snipe at Foo Foo Dogs..

...and scores a direct hit.

I saw this wonderful new ad last night, and thought, "Wow.. I gotta find this and post it tomorrow".. but insomniac Pat Burns, Terrierman scooped me- and not for the first time- so you can watch it there.

Runaways.

Well. That was exciting... in a stressful kind of way. And hard on the vocal chords. (Cords?).

What was that, Dan? See, it's like this: To get Rally out of the motor home to walk, she has to be picked up and set down on the ground.. while this is happening, the door swings wide open, because both hands (and attendant arms) are on the dog. This offers a golden opportunity for Mr. Sandia to make a break for it. Most of the time I've made a circus grab, on the fly, and tossed him back in before closing the door. Today, I got a finger on his collar, but he just slipped off and away he went.

To make today unique, Fanny took advantage of the wide open door while I was turned and yelling at Sandia. Just one, I can get back fairly easily. With two, I had co-enablers. Away they rushed... toward the campground office. They said hello to a lady getting into a pickup, wheeled and ran back toward me.. hey, this was going to be easy after all.

Not. They ran to a corner and peed, looked over their shoulder at this...

Yes... a cornfield. A big cornfield, with a couple of deer stands on the perimeter. The temptation was obviously too much, as they disappeared. When the dogs disappear in the deserts of New Mexico, I don't mind.. I know they'll be back. This is completely different. Farmers in Michigan, and most other states in the vicinity, shoot dogs that are chasing deer. I hoped they didn't jump any deer. I did see a sandhill crane launch more vertically than they're used to.

Meanwhile, I still had Rally on the flexi, and she hadn't peed yet, so I couldn't put her back in, and I couldn't trudge across the cornfield with her and her cast, and the long-promised rain just beginning. So I stood on the campground side yelling, and they cavorted on the opposite side. I just hoped they stayed in the field and didn't venture into the surrounding woods.

Rally finally peed. I ran back to the motor home, threw her in, grabbed my Fox 40 Classic, and ran back to the cornfield, hoping they were still in sight. I was now ready to venture into the field myself... alternatingly yelling their names and blowing the whistle.. Sandia, made a run back toward me, I brought out a dog biscuit, caught his eye... and he slowed,... and then decided he hadn't had enough exercise. Meanwhile, Fanny had disappeared from view. Then Sandia disappeared.

It had now been almost 20 minutes they'd been running loose. I was on my own, because Margaret had gone into Ann Arbor to visit her parents.. if I dropped dead in the middle of the field, no one would find me until they came through to plant new corn. I had to find them..

I was halfway across the field when Sandia approached. And stayed. I got a leash on him, gave him a biscuit that he was too exhausted to eat, (although he did remove it from my jacket pocket after we were back in the house), and we went in search of Fanny.

We got all the way across, to the foot of one of the deer stands, and she was nowhere in sight. There was a trail that sloped downhill toward Goose Lake, west of the stand... as we started down it, Fanny broke out of the woods behind us, and stood to be leashed. She was finally out of gas. But not out of surprises.

I'd thought the worse thing that could happen was that they'd be shot by some farmer. Perhaps not... Fanny was covered in burrs... including covering her right eye completely; and she'd rolled in something exotic. Crane crap? Deer carcass? It was black, and greasy, and stunk to the heavens. Great. She needed washing, and it was raining and only about 45 degrees. I didn't want to bring her in, but that was my only option.

And that's how I came to do a thorough cleaning up of the shower and the bathroom today!

Whats the Matter With Kansas?

Hey, we're back. Miss us?

We've been on the move for the last week or so.. from Oklahoma to Kansas to Michigan. Kansas was our stop last weekend for an AKC trial outside of Wichita... which leads us to the title of this post. And no, I'm not talking about Thomas Frank's excellent book by the same name, wherein he investigates why hundreds of thousands of poor Kansans voted against their own economic self interest in the 2004 elections. (Hint: they drank the Bush KoolAid).

No, I'm talking about our own wacky experiences in Kansas. First, we stopped in the brand new Wichita World Market... where we've found a wine we really like. Once in the store, I discovered we weren't going to be there for very long. No wine and beer section! What the hell is this? When leaving, one of the employees asked if we found everything OK... that's all the invitation I needed. Like she was prescient, she said, "Ah, the liquor?... thank you, Kansas". I don't understand what convoluted statutes allow Sam's Club to have a complete liquor store attached to their building, and forbids World Market from selling wine and beer. We never did get any wine.


Then, as we were leaving the state on Sunday, we witnessed a phenomenon we saw a couple of years ago: Every Spring, Kansans set themselves on fire.

They have their reasons. Good ones it turns out, as explained at the link. It's just bizarre to drive past mile after mile of smoldering grasslands. The smell and the haze aren't all that pleasant, but they're working on that.



And then there's "Pastor" Fred Phelps in Topeka. Actually, God hates you, Fred.


Now, I don't want to leave the impression that all is bad and bleak in Kansas. Saturday night we were invited out to dinner at the Kabob House restaurant on Wichita's west side. An intimate (read: small) place, featuring Turkish and Mediterranean cuisine. This was clearly a winner. I had the "Donor Alexander Kabob".... grilled, seasoned lamb, covered with a tomato-butter sauce, together with rice and bulgar. It was sooooo good. Finished up with a delicious Turkis coffee.


Now we're back in Michigan... I'm so glad we weren't still in Kansas when Kansas University won whatever meaningless sports tournament we watched on TV last night. We might have gotten trampled by the celebratory run on the campus malt shops. "Rock. Chalk. Jayhawk." What the hell does that mean? (Can you tell my money was on Memphis?).


Michigan. Snow in the forecast for the weekend. Figures.

Not With a Bang, but a Whimper

Brian at MGoBlog has all the detailed analysis anyone could possibly need on the Pryor commitment earlier today.

Just as a side note... We're pretty sure we know where he's going, but are we really sure he knows where he's going... in his loaner Corvette?

"If everyone's here," he said, "University of Ohio State."

That's a MAC school, isn't it?

Well.... if he takes too long to figure out the name of the school, they'll just take the 'vette away and give it back to Maurice Clarett.

OK. Not Funny Any More.

This started about 7 last night. Just light flurries now, but the winter storm warning continues until 6PM tonight, with another 1-4 expected. And I have to drive in to the airport to get Margaret at 4. In one of those meteorological mysteries, there's virtually no snow in Albuquerque, just 30 miles away. The problem will be getting there.

Whose Ass They Gonna Kiss Now?

Sports journalism's ridiculous love affair with Green Bay Packers' quarterback, Brett Favre is finally going to end. Favre's agent has announced that the man I call the most overrated player in the history of sport, is going to retire. The media's lavish praise of the man who holds NFL records in interceptions... (yeah, touchdowns too... big deal) reminds me of the way the political media falls all over themselves to shower accolades on presidential candidate Barack Obama (all of which is warranted, by comparison.... Buckeye state: do something right for a change!). That Favre, he's no Tom Brady ;-) He wouldn't even have the one, lonely Super Bowl ring he owns if not for this former Wolverine, Heisman Trophy winner, and Super Bowl MVP...

So good bye, Brett. Go fishin', and don't let too many of your baitfish get "picked off".

Money Pit.

That's the new name for the greyhound formally known as Rally.

After checking with friends in the Las Cruces, El Paso, and Albuquerque area for advice about vets, we decided to just take her to the local (and only) vet in Deming. Since she's shown a propensity for not staying sound for more than 6 months at a time, we were just going to get the most basic (read: cheap) repair, and retire her from running competitions.

Unfortunately, the local guy admitted he had little experience in repairing this type of injury... which by the way, was that the achilles tendon had completely separated from the calcaneaous (heel) bone. He set up a referral for us to a vet in El Paso.... one whose name we already knew from our previous search, and came with a glowing, albeit expensive, reference.

Tuesday, we'll take Ral Money Pit to Crossroads Animal Clinic, where Dr. Koschmann will do his magic, and she will either come out the following day with a splint, or an external fixator. I'll post some before and after pictures at that time. Our wallets will be some $1200-$1500 lighter. Money Pit, indeed! At least this way she may be able to run in next year's Pack Hunt with Sandia!

Oh, that the local guy could have done it... the office call, exam, and referral were a whopping $31.00! And we walked in without an appointment.

Update: So I don't need to tell you, those Google ads around this site are more important than ever. Who wouldn't want to look at the Patriots' cheerleaders in bikinis.. huh? You know you would.

Meanwhile, On the Day Shift.

When it rains, it pours.

Yesterday, we drove out into the countryside to look at 40 acres that a friend has on the market. We took Sandia and Rally. When we parked, we let them out for a "potty break".. Sandia got leashed up, but Rally, who's been doing well of late on healing her partial torn achilles, slipped by. Well, she was staying close, so we figured we'd let her evacuate, and we'd leash her up then.

That was before the jackrabbit. And she was looking good for the first 150 yards or so. She even turned it, and was closing when...

Do I even need to finish the story?

Now we need a good orthopedic vet surgeon in southern New Mexico... and some means to pay them with.

Yeah. So There!

Patriots: 'Better A Diamond With A Flaw Than A Pebble Without'

...and yer mother wears army boots!

Super Tuesday "Humor"

Just a sidenote... the only part of me that would touch Ann Coulter's ass is the part at the end of my leg. No, the other end!

Y'Oughta See the Giants Fan's Jaw!

That's a real fan! I only considered putting my fist through the wall...

The Dark Side.

Absolutely last word on the Subpar Super Bowl... The Nueva York Giants were the recipients of some of the greatest luck in the history of sport. Or was it luck? Maybe there were dark forces at work that we can only wonder at, or dream of.

This was the kind of "luck" that Notre Dame used to have before their god deserted them after the hiring of Charlie Weis. There must be supernatural forces in play here... but not benign forces. These are dark forces. These are Faustian- Robert Johnson down-to-the-crossroads kind of sinister forces. I'm convinced of it. What other explanation could there be for this...


So enjoy your brief notoriety, Eli. Down the road, the piper will still have to be paid.

Damn... I despise that whole hillbilly family ;^)

Is That All There Is?

Well, that pretty much sucked. You realize this means the world still hasn't made Mercury Morris shut the fu hell up. Y'know, 18-1 still looks one win better than 17-0 to me ;)

Is Eli Manning a better quarterback than..... Peyton Manning? Sure looks that way. Is he a better QB than Tom Brady? You must be joking.

So thanks boys... for the most boring 3 quarters of football. At least the 4th quarter was... um, interesting. And, with the exception of the T-Mobile ad with D-Wade and Charles Barkley, the commercials were lamer than any year in recent memory.

And I'm out of Tequila.

Stanley Cup, anyone? I like hockey better, any way. Go Wings!

Hey look! The Biggest Loser is on NBC!

Tom Brady & the Heartbreakers?

Hey, this is almost like "live blogging" the Super Bowl! Except this is all you'll see here until the end of the game. Maybe.

I know it's only half time... (great show by Petty et al, by the way), and I know the Pats have the lead, but geez.... I don't like the way this game's going.

Fortunately, they have the human equivalent of the Cray Supercomputer as the head coach, so I assume the problems will be adjusted to during the halftime. History awaits.

As to the commercials? Worst I can remember. That Doritos ad with the giant rat? WTF??

Unsafe in Any Decade.

Noooooooo!! No! A thousand times NO! Hasn't this asshole screwed up enough elections for two lifetimes? Please someone, put me out of my misery.. better yet, put him... wait, does he have Secret Service protection yet? I better let you all finish that particular sentence.
Not again.
Sob!

Eight More Years!

This week's Onion story, plays on your sense of nostalgia. If this weren't deliberate satire, it would make a great true story. Dammit.

Might As Well Get a Greeter Job at WalMart.

It's bad enough these days, when anybody with a couple hundred bucks in their pockets can get a fair-to-decent digital SLR camera, and set up business as a "Pro-fesh-uh-nul Photographer". My advantage, of course is experience. Having the technology and camera speed and knowing how to use the technology and that speed are two different things. 9 times out of 10 I'm still going to get the better shot than the other guy. Or girl.

Fer example, I get communiques like this:

Dan
Are you going to shoot any ASFA trials in places where I tend to show up? J ___ ran pretty well at ___ over ___ _____, but the photographer's work was not very good. __ has a poor sense of timing, and ___ focus is sloppy. I want a good picture of J___ for her breeder
(Edited to avoid embarrassing anyone)

So, what me worry?, right?
But, as "the Coach" on ESPN's College Game Day is wont to say: "Not so fast, my friend". Casio is about to tilt the field of play way out of whack. Beginning in March, any granny, or cuzzin Bruce with a thousand bucks laying around can get the perfect shot, (s'long as they can aim the damned thing, that is). The magic machine they will do this with is below:




See what it says on the lens barrel? If you want to see what kind of resolution you can get at that kind of speed, check out the samples here. Pretty impressive. So impressive I might as well retire to a life of leisure and panhandling in Deming, New Mexico.


Just kidding.

T-Rex vs. Blind Faith

So, we managed to extricate ourselves from the trial site last Sunday while there was still a lot of daylight left. That gave us our opportunity to spend the night at the very nice campground of the Dinosaur Valley State Park. As a bonus, there were only 3 other campers in the entire park, so we were able to spread out considerably.

We got hooked up, fed the dogs, and went back into Glen Rose for a damn good Italian dinner at Juliany's. (No review links or web page). Second time we've eaten there, and it was just as good this time as the first.

Monday morning we were able to hit a part of the park's extensive hiking trail system. Extensive enough to have a lot of back country camping locations. Our objective, however, was to follow the trail along the river to see the dinosaur tracks, left in the sand over a hundred million years ago, during the Cretaceous Period. The tracks were left by the two critters below,

one vegetarian, one meat eater. The tracks can be seen clearly in the below image, and also in more detail if you click on the new slide show on the sidebar. There's something just really cool about being able to "time travel" like this.

We spent a couple of hours on the trail, ending up at the two models (see the slide show), before returning to the Express to pack up and get out before the very generous 2PM check out time.

As we left the park, we drove by a neighboring enterprise:

The cleverly named, "Creation Evidence Museum". Yin and Yang? Fact and Fantasy? Interesting juxtaposition. We certainly didn't have the time to go in and visit, and I would have most certainly gotten us tossed out if we did. I expect we'd see a model of Fred Flintstone and his pet, Dino. Overall, it appeared pretty low budget. A bigger-budget, much more subversive version is in operation in Kentucky.
Not to worry, though. Look at those teeth. My T-Rex can shred their Dog-ma.