This is a Clumber spaniel at the Monaco Dog Show earlier in the year. Clumbers are, I believe, the heaviest of all the spaniels.
Great article! It's somewhat funny to me because our pit got sprayed by a skunk, tore a nail, and broke out in hives all within a two-week span. I will be trying the benadryl for the hives. Have you ever run into severe dry skin issues with your pits? Ours scratches her face until she bleeds. She also gets something similar to diaper rash between her legs and belly during the winter/spring. And she just started licking her paws CONSTANTLY over the past year. I found an aloe spray for dogs that seems to keep the dry skin under control, but I have to apply multiple times a day, every day. It starts all over again if I miss a day.
BAD RAP Blog
There is a detection-dog program called Conservation Canines (CK9), part of the University of Washington’s Center for Conservation Biology, that is putting to a brand new use the amazing sense of smell that dogs possess.
These CK9 dogs are trained to help conservationists detect the presence of endangered animals by sniffing out their poop.
Unlike scent dogs trained to find drugs or explosives, the CK9 dogs’ talents are put to use for scientific studies around the world: sniffing out the scat of endangered species — among them black bear, grizzly bear, lynx, wolf, bobcat, coyote, and cougar.
Genetic tests on the scat can identify individual animals – hormone-level testing shows if they’re stressed, pregnant – and toxicology tests reveal if they’re being poisoned. Experts have found that no other wildlife sampling method can acquire so much information so quickly, without disturbing the environment.
And best of all, the CK9 dogs are rescued from shelters, where the trainers seek out those animals which were considered unadoptable because they were super high energy with an obsession about playing with a ball – a single-minded drive which can also lead to destructive behavior if the energy is not put to use.
But when that energy is trained and harnessed to a task like this, the dogs are rock stars. Or poop stars. But in any case, it’s a win-win all around.
For the full story on this fascinating program benefiting shelter dogs in need of the right homes as well as species of animals in danger, Click here on “Conservation Dogs Sniff Out Endangered Species“.
Tracie Hotchner is the author of THE DOG BIBLE: Everything Your Dog Wants You to Know and THE CAT BIBLE: Everything Your Cat Expects You to Know.
She is also a renowned pet radio host and producer, having spent 7 years on the Martha Stewart Channel of Sirius/XM with CAT CHAT® and even longer with her award-winning NPR radio show DOG TALK® (and Kitties, Too!) that continues to broadcast in the Hamptons and the Berkshires. Her most recent accomplishment is the pet talk radio network she has created on the Internet called The Radio Pet Lady Network.
MARS Petcare has issued a voluntary recall of its Nutro Chewy Treats Apple 4 oz. The recall information is below. It was found at PetSmart.
Dear Valued PetSmart® Customer,
MARS Petcare has issued a voluntary recall of the following Nutro dog treat due to potential mold.
Impacted Lot Codes
Nutro CHEWY TREATS APPLE 4OZ
Lots codes beginning with ‘4 50’, ‘5 02’, ‘5 03’, OR ‘5 05’ (regardless of best by date).
The Lot Codes are located on the bottom of the bag under the Best By date as shown below:
Please stop feeding this product to your pet and bring any remaining Nutro 4 oz. Apple Chewy Treats affected by this recall to your nearest PetSmart for a full refund. PetSmart sells a wide variety of treats from many brands, and our associates can help you find the right item for you and your pet.
If you have questions about this voluntary recall, please contact Nutro Customer Service at 1-800-833-5330.
My mother was not a great cook. I think she would happily cop to that. She made spaghetti, burnt steak, and stuck underseasoned chicken breasts in the oven until they turned rubbery. Her mother was not a great cook either. She was Irish, so I guess that was part of her legacy to boil everything until it fell apart and all the taste seeped out, or so she claimed.
However, her father was French, so she inherited a different type of culinary genius: boy could she bake. If I had to choose one of the two to excel in, it’s pastry chef every time. Banana bread. Cranberry muffins. Christmas sugar cookies with just the right frosting:cookie ratio. And her New England birthright, the whoopie pie.
Every Christmas, she would bake piles of these little crack blobs and send them to every corner of the States, where otherwise mild-mannered humans would turn into ravenous wolves and tear into them until nothing was left but a small pile of chocolate crumbs and the satisfied groans of bellies bloated with marshmallow creme. And when my kids were older, they took my place up at the counter to learn the great tradition of cookie decorating:
They weren’t bakery perfect, but that’s what made them fun.
Mom would also on occasion bake macaroons, those pasty, blobby coconut things that stick to your teeth and cling to the insides of your esophagus like phlegm. I was not a fan. But one fateful day I wandered into a French bakery and admired the little pastel rows of goodness and light known as French macarons, and everything changed. I picked up a rose flavored one and a lavender one, and I was hooked.
Before they became wildly popular a year or two ago, they were nearly impossible to find, and I decided that the easiest thing to do would be just to learn how to make them myself. Mom was on board too, ready to add a new treat to her repertoire.
Unfortunately, macarons are known as one of the granddaddies of pastry making, a confection as temperamental as an 80s hair band vocalist. Beat the meringue too long? Ruined. Not long enough? Ruined. Also able to ruin them: temperature too high, too low, overmixing, undermixing, high humidity, Mercury in retrograde, wrong rack in oven, playing country music while baking, etc, etc.
It only made me more determined to unlock their secrets, so last year I procured a cookbook, 5 bags of almond flour, and spent an afternoon in the kitchen with my mother ruining macarons.
After 3 or so batches, we were able to get a cookie sheet out of the oven with at least half of them edible, and we considered this a great success.
“Next year,” she said, “We’ll have this down.”
We never did get to practice together after that.
So a couple of weeks ago, with this echoing in my mind, I realized I needed to finish what we started and make some damn macarons. They are not like making a batch of chocolate chip cookies where you screw it up a little, meh, still fine.
Macarons are an event. You need to prepare. You need to think about things. You need to time everything just so, knowing the difference between firm meringue and soft, how many folds it takes before the stiff batter melts into pipable lava, make sure to bang the tray on the counter a few times, you need to rest the cookie before you bake it so you get those little crusty feet. Getting it right is like finding the keyhole into the Misty Mountain, a perfect meeting of all the right tiny details.
And even when you do all of this right, they still get messed up. Sometimes they slant to the left like a manhole askew, sometimes the foot sticks to the pan and all you get is the top half, or they’re overdone and crunchy all the way through. Piles wind up in the trash. And every once in a while you hit the jackpot and get a perfectly done shell, and then- then, it’s magic. Crunchy and chewy and delicate and unlike any other thing out there, and you think to yourself, I have reached nirvana.
Manic Pixie Baker
I went into manic baking mode this week. Between the 3 dozen macarons I took to a cookie exchange (and lost the contest to a BROWNIE, what the heck is that about?), the teacher gifts, the ones my husband wants to bring into work, I can’t keep them in the fridge before they get carted out. Biscoff gingerbread. Pistachio. Cherry cordial. Eggnog. Nutella. I was a macaron machine.
I could have just gone and bought them, I suppose, or picked one of any thousands of easier cookies to make. But there is something special about giving someone a perfectly tied teensy box of macarons that makes a recipient light up- even when the cookies are imperfect, which most of them are. Because you are basically presenting a box that says, “I wasted 40 hours of my life swearing at a bowl of egg whites in order to bring you this,” and when the person squees in delight, you realize it’s not a waste after all.
In the hours I spent in meditative contemplation over a tray of almond meal, it really started to sink in as to why I felt such a need to get it right, to fulfill this promise to my mom that I would nail this cookie in a manner befitting my birthright. Whether or not they came out perfectly was completely beside the point, an added bonus but not necessary.
They are, simply put, a confectionary metaphor for life itself. They’re never going to be perfect. There’s always going to be one more way you can make them better. It takes time and effort and patience to get to the end and it still may not be what you wanted, but oh, even then, it was worth it.
What you bring to the party, and what you give to others from your own heart and hands- it is worth it. Never stop giving.
The little man has been doing great. The girls haven’t corrupted him into being a barker yet, and hopefully it will stay that way. He’s still just so easy – he’s happy and easy and content. Coulee is playing with him regularly now and the house has been quite chaotic because of it. But it’s nice to see them all having fun together.
We’ve started doing off leash walks these past few days. He’s been fantastic. He stays nearby and comes running at full speeds when you call. He loves to watch the geese when they fly overhead.
Poor dude managed to get Cherry Eye last week. We’ll be getting it fixed on Dec 16 – we felt waiting until his neuter was just too long. His brother Oliver (aka Kermit) also got it and he’s unfortunately got it in his second eye too. We are hoping that Summit’s second eye goes before the 16th if it is going to! I’ve been editing it out of most of his pictures because frankly I’d rather not remember him like that. It’s isn’t too gross, but it isn’t flattering either. He is great at taking his eye drops which is great because we are doing them 4 times a day.
I still need to get a decent family photo but we’ve been practicing…
The girls are doing well. Lacey’s recovered from her surgery and all the stitches have finally fallen out. Her hair almost covers the scar and I’m sure once it is full length you’ll never know.
As you guys know, I design greeting cards on the side, which includes a yearly collection of holiday cards. And while I do continue to give these cards out to friends and family each year, I decided that I wanted to do something different this time. First, I wanted to include a picture of Essley on the card. This is the last holiday season where she’ll be our only little one, and I felt inspired to do something special that just included her. Second, I wanted to find a way to make the addressing and sending of the cards itself easier. There is a lot of fidgeting going on when I try to sit in a chair for an extended period of time these days (this baby belly is large, guys), and between that, being busy for work, and preparing for the holidays and baby boy’s arrival in a few weeks, addressing, stamping, and sending Christmas cards just felt like another big project to squeeze in.
Around this time, I was introduced to a company called Postable, and my holiday card woes and worries were instantly relieved. For real. It turns out that Postable prints, stamps, addresses and mails all of your cards directly to everyone for you – which, as they say, basically saves you thousands of hours of agony and a life of carpel tunnel. (Or for nearly 9 month pregnant people like me, a whole lot of lower back pain.) I fell in love with their card collection too, which is highly curated and filled with beautiful, stylish designs. I also fell in the love with the fact that the paper they use is 100% post-consumer recycled or tree-free 100% cotton, which my regular readers know is a big deal to me.
It took me a while to decide which card to get, but I ended up picking out this sweet and simple “Peace and Love” design. The process of personalizing the card with Essley’s photo and our names in the signature was genuinely one of the easiest experiences I’ve ever had designing something online. And it took less than a minute! Adding addresses to the address book was super simple too (I just imported a spreadsheet I already had). Once that was done, I chose a font from their collection (I went with one of the “smart” handwriting fonts that honestly looks exactly like my husband’s handwriting), checked out, and bam, my 2015 holiday cards were designed, addressed, stamped, and sent in a matter of minutes. Pretty amazing. Oh yeah, and there’s no waiting around for weeks to get your cards printed either. Postable prints them right away and they reach your recipients in 3-7 days. It’s like a holiday miracle.
Robbie and I are both so happy with the way our holiday cards turned out this year, and I’m so glad that I was able to get the type of card I wanted and find a way to (majorly) simplify the entire process. I can’t wait to use Postable again in the future for invitations and thank you cards.
Have you sent out your holiday cards yet this year? Have you ever used Postable?
This post is in collaboration with Postable.
The seeming sadness of the dog doesn’t go unnoticed by the motor cyclist.
La tristesse apparente du chien ne passe pas inaperçue pour le motocycliste.