The World of Sherman

I Feel Better; We Get A New Pack Member

2011-09-26T15:30:00.004-04:00

See the dog on the right? Doesn't look like me, does it? That's because it's not. That's Poptart, the newest member of our household. You'd think a blog about me would be about, well, *me*, but apparently I'm yielding the floor once again.

Let me update you about *me* first, then I'll tell you the story of Poptart.

You may remember from my last post that I was not feeling well. Turns out that I had an upper respiratory infection, or at least as near as anyone can tell. I was on antibiotics and steroids for a couple weeks, and just before they ran out, I started feeling better. And my nose stopped drooling, which everyone appreciated. I'm over it all now, and back to my old self. jc is quite happy about this, as he was pretty worried. Upper respiratory infections can be really bad news.

Now on to Poptart. jc and Cindy occasionally transport dogs from the animal shelters to the farm, or from the farm to intermediate pickup points so they can go to their furever homes, or rescue groups that are just for their type of dogs. Canine Pet Rescue handles mostly German Shepherd Dogs, but occasionally miniature Australian Shepherds. jc had picked up a few dogs from DeKalb Animal Control to take to the farm before, but Poptart was the first GSD he had transported.

When he picked her up on May 18th, 2011, she was quite pregnant, and kind of smelly (shelter conditions aren't really conducive to keeping one's self clean). But she had a personality (why don't we have doganalities? We're dogs, after all...) he really liked, and he had kinda made noise about bringing her home at some point. Poptart went to the farm, got renamed to "Bella" (which is a *whole* 'nother story), and then had her puppies, all which got adopted out. Now she was looking for *her* furever home.

jc and Cindy go out to the farm to take pictures of the dogs now and again, and each time jc made noises about how cool Poptart (also known as Poppy) was. They talked about bringing her home either for fostering or for keeps, but decided that 4 dogs was just too much. I wasn't sure about the idea, although it would be nice to have a dog that would play with me. Moon (also known as Jurassic Golden Retriever) doesn't play. Makeeta (the 10 year old Shiloh Shepherd) doesn't really play either, or at least for only a very short time.

Well, sometime in August, Poptart ("Bella") thought she found her furever home. There were other dogs there she got along fine with, but a daughter who didn't live at home would bring her dog over, and apparently they didn't get along right away. The people decided she wasn't fitting in, and wanted to send her back. The lady who runs CPR was livid! The contract the adopter signs has a check box that specifically requires human initials in it to indicate they understand that it could take several months for the new pack order to be established, and problems may come up that have to be worked through. Nonetheless, they wanted to return her. jc heard about this, talked to Cindy, and they agreed that Poptart should join our pack. Cindy commented she thought it was inevitable, and that everyone knew sooner or later Poppy would be a Wren pack member.

On August 28th, jc and Cindy picked up Poptart from the farm, and brought her home. Over a couple days we all got introduced, and for the most part got along famously. The agreement was that they would foster her for two weeks to make sure there weren't going to be any serious issues, and then they'd adopt her. On 9/11 (that's a famous date in history for two reasons now!) jc let it be known that Poptart had joined the Wren pack as a permanent member. He also said something about that anyone who calls her Bella is going to get a pop in the nose! Poptart is the name she meant to have from the beginning, and it's a much better name.

For the most part, things are going great! Poppy and I wrestle like two crazy dogs, throwing each other around, jumping on the couch in jc's office (we're allowed to do that on that couch. The one in the living room is strictly off limits), tearing up and down the hallway, and playing ball constantly.

Oh, I don't guess I mentioned this, but we all think she's about 2 1/2 years old or so. jc said her birthday is the same as mine, which is the same as his (April 30th), so we're all getting a *huge* cake next year :). You can also see some other pictures of her here.

The only issue we really have is that Makeeta likes to be the fun-police. If we start horsing around too much and she's around, she sticks her nose in our fun and goes postal. She's also got Poppy thoroughly cowed (sigh, kinda like me, if the ball rolls to a stop near her, jc or Cindy has to go get it. Actually, sometimes, she's kinda mean to me). There's been one or two minor altercations, but jc has no hesitation about stepping in and putting a stop to it [OK, so maybe sometimes jc isn't very bright. --jc]. Poptart doesn't start anything with Makeeta, but she won't back down, either.

Expect to hear more about the adventures of me and Poppy. Even though it's my blog, I'll share space with her.

*woof*

I Am Not Feeling Well; My People Love Me

2011-08-17T15:54:00.006-04:00

There's Moon (front), me (middle) and Makeeta (back) sacked out on the floor. It's a 3 dog pile-up in the hallway! Humans dancing everywhere as they try to step around us! It's a fun game.

What's not a fun game is that I don't feel well. Monday night around 5pm I started panting a lot, drooling, and some hacking. jc got concerned that I might have flipped my stomach, a condition known as torsion, or GDV, so they took me to the emergency clinic.

The clinic people X-rayed me (click here to see my guts), and didn't see evidence of GDV, intestinal blockage, or an enlarged heart. They were very nice to me, although I wasn't too pleased about being rolled on my back for that picture of my lungs.

I've been hacking some, like I've got something just on the back of my throat that won't come up. I've also been standing around panting, and can't get comfortable when I lay down, unless I flop over. jc and I don't really know why that might be. He wonders if I snapped at a bee and got stung, and it's making my throat irritated. And sometimes when I'm breathing, I whistle a little bit, like my throat is closed down.

Tuesday morning, jc and Cindy took me to Chateau Animal Hospital, as soon as they opened. I was presented with a little wet dog food, which I did eat, so they're also convinced I haven't got GDV. Dr. B was speculating that maybe it was some sort of gastric upset, but I don't think jc is convinced of that. He's an engineer and slightly mechanically inclined, and watching and listening to me, he thinks it's more likely it's a trachea issue.

That afternoon I ate boiled chicken and rice, which means I know I'm not well, and that my people are taking care of me. jc bitches about how much my vet bills are already, but I know he'd do just about anything for me :) He didn't get mad at me when I woke him at 3am for an hour with my panting. He just got up, got me some water, and petted me until I finally laid back down and went to sleep. He didn't even get mad when I accidentally peed on the carpet this morning before he took me out! Just said it was his own damn fault for not taking me out as soon he woke up, since I drank a quart of water in the middle of the night.

Wednesday morning I don't think I feel any better, but I'm no worse. I didn't eat the chicken and rice breakfast, which I know bothered jc. I did go outside and do my business, so that's a pretty sure sign there's no intestinal blockage, and everything is... ummmm... "flowing smoothly".

Being a sick dog is just no fun. I've had a blast going swimming a few times since my last blog post, and when I feel better, I'll share some pictures that Cindy took of me and jc splashing around in Lake Lanier. I may not be one of those dogs that heads straight to the water when I see it, but I like going in and paddling around. Wish me well that this is nothing serious, 'cause I know jc gets very stressed out when I'm not well.

*woof*

A New Leash On Life; Doing The Hurky-Hurky

2011-07-19T11:14:00.000-04:00

As you may surmise, this is not a picture of me either. Rather, this is a picture of what went down me, then came back up. Yep, I chewed the handle of my favorite leash.

I generally like to be near my human, jc. He was in the living room watching a movie, and I was laying in the office. Makeeta, the old cranky big dog, was laying in the doorway, so I couldn't get from the office to the living room. Sometimes when this happens I get frustrated and vent that frustration on things I'm not supposed to. Towels, shoes, socks, dish cloths, other odds and ends.

Cindy was out of town and jc had taken me and Makeeta out for our afternoon walkies. While picking up a package on the front porch, he set the leash on the table in our office, and forgot to pick it up. He was sitting there watching a movie [District 9, not bad --jc] and heard a noise. He came in, and found the leash laying on the floor, and part of the handle missing. That's because I pulled it off the table, chewed it into bite-sized chunks and swallowed it.

jc is not one to panic, but he does get upset. I got kinda got yelled and fussed at, and I knew he was pretty pissed at me. So I wagged my tail. He called the emergency clinic and they said "give him 2 tablespoons of hydrogen peroxide. If he doesn't throw up, give him two more in 15 minutes. If that doesn't do it, bring him and we'll give him an injection that will for sure make him throw up." Sooooo I got two tablespoons of hydrogen peroxide (H2O2, for you science-minded types), and then I was rushed outside. About 30 seconds later, I started hurking. And hurking some more. And again. And at least one more time. After about 15 minutes, I get another dose of H2O2 and go through this again. Nothing was coming up this time, but was I trying!

Then I get tied off to the porch railing (in case I hurk again), and jc snaps on some rubber gloves, gets a baggie, and starts poking through my barf-piles, picking out the bits of leash. You can see these in the picture above. We then go inside, where he proceeds to wash them off, lay them out and dry them. I'm thinking he's doing this so I can have them as snacks again later on, but apparently not. Rather, he gets the tape measure, figures out how much is there, and how much SHOULD be there. They appear close enough that he thinks none went though my stomach (I'm told it was fortunate that he noticed quickly, and that I also had some dinner still in my stomach when I chewed it up).

Well, I pretty much got the cold shoulder and glared at the rest of the evening. jc usually doesn't get put out with me, but this time, I think I really screwed up. Luckily we had some hydrogen peroxide in the cabinet, or he'd had been *really* put out with a $300 visit to the emergency room. Not to mention that leash was about $30, too, and he liked it a lot. There does seem to be enough to make a short lead, if he can find someone that works leather.

Over the next two days, I had my poop carefully scrutinized to make sure no leash bits were in it. While I'd have probably passed them, if they got tangled up in my intestines, I could have been in a world of hurt. Did I learn anything from this? Probably not.

Of course, jc can never stay mad at me for too long, so the next morning we were back on good terms, although I had a nick-name for a couple of days that I'm not sure was flattering. Is it bad to be called "Dumb-assed Dog"?

*woof*

I Put A Rottweiler In His Place; Things Are Said

2011-05-25T15:24:00.001-04:00

I have learned that going to Petsmart to "expose me to the doggy populace" is going to be a regular thing. Last night, I loaded jc and Cindy up in the car and we went back to Petsmart. I was doing pretty well, ignoring other dogs, strolling through, and generally raising the class of the establishment with my presence.

At one point, I was laying down and the humans were standing at the end of an isle, and other dogs from a class were going up and down. I was cool with that, and would glance at them, make sure they knew I was confident they were inferior beings, and then ignore them. All was well, and I kept getting my ears rubbed, which was nice.

Then this fat Rottweiler walked by, gave me some stink-eye, and turned towards me. I jumped up and did my "Don't you mess with me!" bark (which is nice and deep, and makes me sound like a bad-ass). We were asked to move somewhere else... And it wasn't even really my fault! That lady didn't tell her fat dog to behave and just kept baby-talking to it. Ugh!

Since we had to move, we went back to strolling around the store, and I met some more people that petted me and told me how nicely behaved I was. I don't jump on people, and typically stand or sit down so they can pet me. When I sit, it makes it easier for them to reach my ears :)

I did end up barking at one other dog that surprised me when it cut right in front of me, so jc and Cindy decided it was time to leave. I'm supposed to go to Doggy Day Care on Thursday, and I expect jc will take me up there again.

*woof*

Shocking, I Tell You, Just Shocking!

2011-05-23T15:18:00.003-04:00

As I mentioned in the previous post, I've been to Doggy Day Care a couple times for socialization. I still keep trying to open a can of whoopass when I've got a leash on, but when I'm with people or running free among other dogs, I'm cool. This weekend, I had a rather shocking experience.

You may recall from a post a ways back, What I Learned At Camp Diana, about what happened at Petsmart. Last weekend I went to some peoples house that have fifteen Rottweilers. They show them in Europe (I've never been there, even though I'm German), and do some training. Tommy, the trainer, says he can fix this problem with me.

We showed up at the house, and Tommy had jc turn me loose into the backyard. I sniffed around, peed on a tree or two, and just checked the place out. A few minutes later, this one-year old Rottweiler comes ambling over, and she and I do the doggy dance greeting. We got along, and after a couple minutes, I even tried to get her to play with me. It seems they wanted to see what my reaction was, which was basically none at all. So jc snapped a leash on me, took me to the front yard, and brought her out again. I didn't do anything except sit there, grinning like an idiot.

Since they're expecting a reaction from me, I tricked them! I didn't do anything. Tommy brought out another Rottweiler who was huge! He said things to German to him, and he sat, laid down, went and got a ball, and a bunch of other stuff. Sticking to my plan, I did nothing. A few more dogs, and still I sat there :) I think jc was pretty proud of me, but they knew it wasn't that easy, and I'd still act out when I wasn't supposed to.

Tommy said we should go up to Petsmart, so we loaded up and went there. He also put something around my neck that made a noise now and again for reasons I can't really figure out. I decided Tommy should hold the leash when we went into Petsmart. As I started to lead him through the door, he gets me a headlock between his knee and door frame! WTF? I'm supposed to lead, I'm sure of this. Apparently not, according to him. I'm suppose to walk beside him. He kept stepping in front of me so I couldn't pass him. Clearly, this human is going to need some training.

I saw some other dogs and start intently staring at him, and he'd say "Uh Uh!" and jerk my collar, then steer me away and praise me. I'm told I'm being "rewarded" when I ignore the other dogs. It could take a bit to get this straight in my head, I'm thinking. So I stare at this one dog, he says "Uh Uh!" and I ignore him, and I get this shock on my neck that scares the living poo-poo out of me! I rear up like a horse trying to get it AWAY! I don't like that one bit, and someone is gonna pay (but they don't know that yet).

We play this game for a bit, and every time I start to stare at a dog, I get yanked, steered away and praised. Tommy says jc's timing is off on getting this right, and just needs practice ("Training the dog is easy, it's training the human that's hard". Ya think?!?).

At least lots of people stopped to tell me how handsome I was, so it didn't *completely* suck...

*woof*

I Attend Doggy Day Care; I Get Whizzed On

2011-05-19T15:12:00.003-04:00

Hello again, faithful followers! As you may recall, I had turned my blog over to jc so he could tell you about DINKH, who is now named Tango. At last check-in, Tango is doing well, and should have started his Immiticide injections by now. Hopefully all is well with my GSD buddy!

From previous posts, you know I have "issues" when I have my leash attached to my human and I encounter another dog. I'm told this isn't really acceptable, and it prevents me from attending some interesting sounding events such as Pawfest and Woof Stock. Since I am by nature a social dog who loves people, I figure it's time to get over this problem.

To that end, jc enrolled me in Doggy Day Care at Camp Woof. Both he and myself are proud to say I did most excellently, and the staff really liked me! jc likes the fact there's a web-cam he can watch from work and make sure that I'm on my best behavior and that I'm not being molested by some ill-mannered mutt.

After jc dropped me off, the staff took me back through the introduction area. This is a fenced area where I can sniff the dogs already in the room, and they can check me out without any issues. I was in there a couple minutes, and then was introduced into the room. We all sniffed around, made introductions, and then pretty much ignored each other. I spent a lot of time milling around, and didn't really find anyone to play with. I guess after I go a couple times, I'll get comfortable enough to start playing with the other dogs.

Nothing very interesting happened on the first visit, although there was one of the girls in the room (there's always at least one human in with us, and sometimes as many as four) that I really took to. I followed her around for a bit, and she kept petting me, so I figure we're friends now.

I stayed about 8 hours and jc came and picked me up. They folks there allowed as how I was a really nice dog (I am), and didn't have any problems. jc told them that he suspected I was just fine with other dogs when I wasn't on a leash, and as we all know, I love people, so nothing new there.

I've been a second time, and while it was pretty similar, something untoward did happen. I was sitting there minding my own business (really!), thinking Sherman thoughts, when this dog snuck up behind me and WHIZZED on me! Just peed on my back leg. None of the kennel staff noticed, but it turns out jc was watching me on the web-cam, called the place and demanded I be bathed. Good human! He also told them how this other dog was running around trying to hump every other dog in the room, too! I'd say *that* dog has some issues. At any rate, he didn't bother me any more after that.

I'm told I'll probably be going to Camp Woof about once a week for a little while, for socialization, and maybe so I can get some play time in with other dogs, and get worn out a little. It's only late May, but it's already so hot that I really don't want to go to the park in the afternoon. Of course, if someone didn't go work every day, he could take me to the park in the morning. Although if he doesn't go to work, I guess he can't buy me dog food, so maybe that isn't such a good idea...

*woof*

A Home Is Found

2011-04-27T18:48:00.002-04:00

[JC filling in for Sherman again] Good news! DINKH has found his furever home. A fellow I know through one of my hobbies was interested in the DINKHster, and on Thursday, April 21st he headed to his new home.

DINKH didn't seem too concerned about all the goings on. We loaded up in the station wagin and headed out to meet up with William at the Forsyth County Jail that evening. Introductions were made, and after a little while of socializing and passing along all his info, DINKH had no hesitation about leaping into the back of an unfamiliar car. William's wife and 2 kids couldn't make it, but he was well received at home. DINKH has formally been renamed 'Tango', a name which I think is quite excellent (even though he'll always be DINKH to us).

Also good news, DINKH will be receiving top notch heartworm care. He started 30 days of Doxycycline, an antibiotic. It turns out that heartworms, which are a parasite, have a parasite inside of them. The Doxycycline kills off the parasite, which in turn weakens the heartworm. After the Doxy regimen, an injection of Immiticide is given. 30 days later, two more injections are given, 24 hours apart. For 60 days from the first injection, DINKH will have to have an absolute minimum of activity, and remain crated most of the time. This because while the heartworms are dying, there is a risk of them breaking up and causing a pulmonary embolism. What's desired is that the worms slowly decay and are eliminated through urination. This is going to be a bummer of a time for DINKH.

However miserable he is for 60 days, it's a small price to pay for killing those creepy heartworms and giving him the normal life span of a healthy dog. There is some risk associated with the procedure, but DINKH is otherwise healthy, and the vet felt really good about how he handled the anesthesia when he had his harbls removed.

On the home front, Sherman does seem to miss DINKH. They had gotten pretty tight, and enjoyed charging around the house playing (which as I mentioned before, usually meant DINKH putting his mouth around Sherm's neck and "winning"). When we got back from handling DINKH over, we went upstairs, let Sherman out, and he went racing back to the bedroom waiting for DINKH to be let out of his crate. No DINKH! Very sad, guess we'll have to foster a GSD to keep Sherm company :)

In one of those many examples of the "small world" syndrome we run into, it turns out Meghan used to work at a Banfield veterinary clinic at a Petsmart. I was telling the DINKH story to my dental hygienist and had gotten to the part about describing Meghan's outgoing nature when Marla (the hygienist) says "Was her name Meghan Seabolt?". When Marla had gotten her boxer, they went to Petsmart for a basic checkup and ended up liking Meghan so much they stayed with her. Indeed, a small world!

Next time, we'll be back to our regular Sherman programming, and we'll find out how Sherm did after a day at the Camp Woof doggy day care center.

*woof*

Cones Of Shame

2011-04-16T22:32:00.010-04:00

(If you're just coming in on this, you may want to read part I or Part II).

Sherman has graciously allowed me to write the text for the Story Of DINKH. He'll return to his regular dictorial (What? Oh. Sherman says that's supposed to be dictation) in the next posts.

As mentioned in part II, DINKH had a meeting with Dr. Knife and lost his doghood. And you may recall from an earlier posting where Sherman mentioned nearly losing his pee-pee. Seeing as we have NO interest in that happening again, we made sure to acquire a Cone of Shame, otherwise known as an Elizbethan Collar, or e-collar. This one above came from Petsmart. DINKH was relatively tolerant of it, but still managed to reach his incision and lick at it. Not badly, but we didn't want ANY of that action going on.

Friday on my way in to work I stopped at a pet supply store and picked up the Pro Collar. It's an inflatable style and supposed to be better all the way around. For $28, it damn well ought to be. See picture below.

As you can see, it basically looks like DINKH ran into a tire inner tube and lost. He seems to be tolerant of it as well, but I think he can still manage to reach "down there". Fortunately, he hasn't really shown that much interest in licking his incision, and most of the time he's close to Cindy or myself, so we can stop him. The longer he goes without messing with it, the better. Inspections several times a day show that it's healing well.

We're now up to Saturday night, about 10pm. Things are going well, everyone mostly gets along with only the very occasional border skirmish. Sherman tries to get DINKH to play, but we have to put a stop to that until DINKH's 7 to 10 day healing period is over.

The big decision now is what to do with him. Cindy and I both have grown rather fond of him, and Sherman has a playmate that can keep up with him. I do know that if my friend does take him, he'll have a good home, so I'm not really worried about that aspect of it. DINKH learns fast, seems to like to please, and I think with some training would be a stellar dog. Did I mention we're both fond of him? :)

One thing I forgot to mention in an earlier post is how much this dog can PEE! I swear that his bladder is actually a gateway into another galaxy comprised entirely of pee. We live on 2.2 acres, and I'd swear that in the first 2 days this dog marked each and every tree on property at least twice. Where as Sherman will whiz once on his outing, DINKH goes from tree to bush to tree to tree to... you get the idea. Seriously, half his internal body space must be devoted to his bladder.

That brings the Story of DINKH up to date. Sherman will let you know in a post in a few days where DINKH winds up. Sherman The Self-Centered Dog would also like to remind everyone that this blog is about >him< but since it's a fellow GSD that we're talking about, he's granting the space and bandwidth.

Until next time, on behalf of the Wren pack (Sherman, Makeeta, Moon, JC, Cindy and for now, DINKH), best wishes to all our doggy and human friends out there.

*woof*

DINKH Moves In

2011-04-16T22:12:00.006-04:00

(If you're just tuning in, read part I first, where we first meet DINKH).

It's now March 31st, and I'm trying to figure out what to do with this dog. We have Sherman (of course), Makeeta (a Shiloh Shepherd, about 10 years old), and Moon (the 1000 year-old Golden Retriever). We don't need 4 dogs. Space is tight, and it's more food, vetting, flea & tick dip, and time. However, being the sucker I am for GSD's, I'm sure not going to turn him out in to the street, or dump him at the pound.

Since Sherman last posted, we've gotten involved somewhat with Canine Pet Rescue, a rescue group that handles mostly GSDs and the occasional mini-Australian Shepherd. We've run transport for several dogs now, picking one up in Anderson, SC, a pair of mini's up in Chattanooga, TN, and I've run a couple pregnant females from the Dekalb County Animal Shelter to the rescue facility. I give CPR a call, and basically, because he's a middle-aged dog, he's HW+ and may have ACL damage, he's not a good candidate for placement. I do get him into the vet the group uses for his rabies and bordetella vaccines, and a fecal float. Turns out the ACL damage may just be a sprain as the limp seems to be lessening quite a bit.

At this point we now have about $75 in him. He's still HW+, still un-neutered, and still not sure what's going to happen. We've started letting our dogs near him while he's in the crate, and over the next couple days make introductions in the garage. He and Sherman play, and play hard. It's good to watch Sherman find a buddy that'll play like he does. Makeeta will occasionally, but only when the mood strikes her. Moon does not play. Ever.

Over the next couple days, Cindy starts bringing him upstairs while I'm at work, only letting one dog at a him interact with him. He explores the house, getting to know the area.

Poor DINKH sleeps in his crate in the basement while everyone else is upstairs. There's some whining when everyone leaves him for the night, but he settles down. Nonetheless, I feel bad for him. Here he is, a lonely guy, isolated from a pack that likes him. I think it's on Thursday, April 7th that I decide he should stay the night upstairs, in a crate in the bedroom. Sherman and I head to bed, bringing DINKH in. Sherman doesn't seem to mind that he's in the same room. "Screw it," I think, "I'm going to leave him out unless there's a problem." DINKH hops up on to the bed, and sacks out for the night. As far as he's concerned, he's home.

Our Facebook friends laugh at us, telling us "Congratulations on your new dog!". "No, " we say, "he's just waiting to find a furever home". And in fact, one fellow that I shoot with on the weekends, a cop with Forsyth county, is interested in meeting him. He and his little girl have just had their tonsils out, so there's a recovery period before they're ready to really meet and greet with DINKH. Plus, I'd like to finish vetting him out as much as possible to make him more desirable for adoption.

We're now up to Thursday, March 14th. DINKH sleeps in the bedroom, pals around with the other dogs, and generally is living the sweet life. But his big adventure today is to get neutered ("Hey, guys, guess what! I'm going to the vet to get tutored!"). I've called around and Hall County Animal Shelter is the cheapest place going at $50. While he's there he's also going to get microchipped. At $20, it's a no-brainer. Tags may get lost, microchips can't.

DINKH gets picked up at 4:30pm, and I spend a little quality time chatting with Dr. Meghan Seabolt (is that a cool name or what?). There is a possibility that we may be able to get shelter pricing on fixing DINKH's heartworm issue. Doing it through our regular vet is $800+, and the Atlanta Humane Society (which seems incapable of having a human answer the phone or returning voicemal) is about $655. In any case, NOT treating it is NOT an option.

In what may be one of the smaller mysteries in life, after his surgery, DINKH has a green line tattooed near his missing harbls. "What's the green line for?" I ask. "To indicate he's been neutered." is the reply. "..." I say. Yea. I'm pretty sure you can tell if your MALE dog is missing his harbls or not. Females, I can understand. Ah, the logic of bureaucracy.

On to part III for the conclusion.

An Intruder Upon My Property!

2011-04-16T21:35:00.008-04:00

Yes, that's not me! This is DINKH (his name is all caps, which will be explained later). I realize I have not posted anything new in almost 8 months. I blame my human, who hasn't seen fit to keep the world updated with the exciting adventures in my life. OTOH, there really hasn't been that much excitement until about 3 weeks ago. Since dictating is kind of slow, I'm going to let JC do the reporting here, since he knows all the facts anyway.

[JC here. Thanks, Sherm!] On March 28th this year, Cindy (Sherm's other human) was taking Makeeta out for her morning walk, when she felt like she was being watched. Looking up at the back porch (image), she saw a pair of eyes staring at her. Her first reaction was "What is Sherman doing on the back porch?" followed by "That's not Sherman...". She proceeded to take Makeeta in through the front door, put her up, then come and find me. We look out the back door, and here's this mostly German Shepherd Dog curled up on the doormat in front of the door.

I go out through the front door, around the side, and at the corner I kneel down and cluck to the dog. He pops up, trots over and licks my hand. I see that he has a collar but no tags, and he's also limping on his back right leg a little. I call the office and tell them I'm going to be a little late coming in...

Grabbing a leash, I load him into the Shermobile (the 1993 Buick Roadmaster Estate Wagon), and carry him up to a local vet. We go in, and the receptionist tells us that the doctor is in surgery and won't be out for an hour, and a visit is $50. Apparently they have no rescue/stray pricing policies, which I consider pretty lame. The receptionist gets out the microchip scanner and runs it over him, but comes up with nothing. She offers to take a picture and put it on Facebook, so we do that. Checking later, I find that you have to 'friend' them to be able to *see* their pictures, so really, what's the point? You'd think a business would have a more public profile. Oh well.

Giving a call to our regular vet (Chateau Animal Hospital), they say they can see him any time. I swing back by the house to pick up Cindy and we motor out to CAH. Dr. Betteker checks him out, and believes him to have a damaged anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), but otherwise appears healthy. Age is estimated to be about 3 years, and oh yes, he's un-neutered. Oh a whim, I have him run a heartworm test, which comes up positive, to my dismay. Checkout cost is about $36, which is the office visit and heartworm check. I consider that quite acceptable. When they ask for his name, I tell them it's DINKH -- Dammit, I'm Not Keeping Him.

We have a couple crates available to house him in, so we bring one down to the basement. It's large enough for a few hours at a time, but not for extended living. I make a call to a friend ours, and on Tuesday night borrow a crate large enough for a small horse. Or at least a Great Dane... DINKH is installed into basement living quarters while we figure out what to do.

On the 29th I put an ad on CraigsList, with the closing sentence: "If this is your dog, email me and identify exactly what his collar looks like, and why I should give him back to you at all.". Why anyone has a 3 year old GSD with no tags, no chip, un-neutered and HW+ doesn't deserve to have this dog back. He's a super nice dog who deserves far better.

This post is getting a little long, so see part II for the rest of the story.

A Fellow GSD Needs Your Help!

2010-07-08T19:21:00.002-04:00

Human friends, a fellow GSD needs your help. The picture above is not me, but a German Shepherd named Indy (short for Independence). Indy was hit by a car on I-285 (a large circular road that humans drive far too fast on that circles Atlanta) on July 3rd, 2010.

She was rescued and rushed to the vet, who did some fantastic work on her. Unfortunately, this kind of thing is expensive. I don't know if the labor was donated, but there's materials cost, medication, food and other things that add up. Canine Pet Rescue is trying to raise $2000 by August 3rd to offset the costs (which are going to run a lot more than $2000!).

Please help Indy by donating. The website for donating is here. You can send money by mail, or if you have a credit card or Paypal, you can use that. At this time, they're at about 88% of their goal. Every little bit helps, so please help Indy and donate just a little. $5 isn't much to you, but it adds up quick to help out a great German Shepherd.

If you're on Facebook, search for 'Canine Pet Rescue', and friend them. They're good people!

*woof*

My Two Year Anniversary!

2010-06-21T09:48:00.006-04:00

Today marks the 2nd anniversary of me joining the Wren pack. In spite of nothing really interesting happening in the last few months, it's been a good 2 years. I spent a grueling 2 weeks at Camp Diana learning "manners", I've had encounters with chipmunks, stood in the middle of a busy street in the dark, tried to take a ride in a Fedex truck, met a lot of really nice people, walked around the shores of Lake Lanier, and in general have been pretty much living the good life.

I'm still working on playing nice with other dogs when I'm on the leash. A couple months ago JC, Cindy and I went over to Camp Diana's house so JC could replace some electrical outlets. I got turned loose in the backyard with a couple others dogs, and mostly had a good time. We played a little, and I tried to climb the fence (I was looking for JC), but I got busted. Apparently *someone* was keeping an eye on me from an upper bedroom window, and saw it all. Ooops!

It's been pretty hot and humid in the afternoons, so I've not been taking JC to the park for our evening walks. I'm looking forward to the cooler weather so we can resume that. I enjoy meeting the people, and I need to exercise my human so he doesn't get fat.

This weekend I saw some email that JC received about a 5 month old GSD that "looks just like me" (pictures, sometimes slow). JC has occasionally shopped the idea of another GSD in the house, but the rest of us are not so much in favor. Cindy claims the next dog should be her pick (since I picked JC), and she wants a Bernese Mountain Dog. Personally, I don't think we need any dogs that outweigh me by 50 pounds! So it looks like the current pack structure will be the status quo for a while, which is fine with me.

Well, that's about it for now. Since it's my anniversary, it means I can (pretty much) do what I want. I think I'll take a nap, go bother Moon, steal the towel from the bathroom, snooze a little, get Makeeta to play, relocate some shoes from the laundry room, take a pre-going-out-in-the-afternoon nap, and then wait for JC to get home. For those in-between times in my busy agenda, I shall chew my Nylabone.

*woof*

P.S. -- The picture below is my opinion of BP.

A Bad Starter; My Mighty Jaws

2010-02-27T22:24:00.009-05:00

This is my car. I inherited it from Anvil, who was JC's dog prior to me. The story goes that JC had a '98 Dodge Durango that Anvil used to ride in. When he was 12 or so, he got to where he couldn't jump into it any more. So JC sold the Durango and bought the '93 Buick Roadmaster Estate Wagon you see here.

Sometime in late November or early December something called the 'starter' stopped... well... 'starting' and the car wouldn't go. It's been so cold and/or wet outside the last few months that JC couldn't (or wouldn't) work on it. So I've been a pup without wheels (although I did get to ride in the Impreza, which is rare).

Finally, last weekend the weather was decent enough for JC to get to work on getting my ride back on the road. I was stationed outside on my long lead so I could supervise. It took him about 3 hours to get the old starter out, and I heard a lot of words I don't think I'm supposed to repeat. I dunno how many times he crawled under the car, and then back out, but I think it was at least thirty.

After getting the starter thingie out, he took it up to the auto parts store where they tested it, only to find out it wasn't busted. I don't think JC was too happy. He came back home with a replacement one (something about they're cheap enough, and with this much effort, he wasn't going to put the old one back in, since who knew when it might actually fail). He turned the key, and it still didn't start. Lots more words I won't repeat (I kinda went and laid under the Impreza at this point). So then he took the battery up to the auto parts store and tested it, and it was good, but had some corrosion on one of the terminals (now I'm just repeating what I heard, because I really don't know what half of this stuff means).

He returned, installed the battery, and yay! my car started. He let it idle for about 15 minutes, and it seemed to run OK. So I hopped in the car, as I thought it would be a good idea to take it for a test drive. JC backed off the parking pad, put it in forward, and it died. Uh-oh. It didn't sputter or anything, just went instantly dead. He tried to start it again, and there was this clicky-clicky sound like before, but it didn't start. I hopped out, and he attached my lead back to the Impreza so I wouldn't get underfoot while he tried to figure out what went wrong.

He poked around under the hood for a couple minutes, tried it again, and it started. I don't think he was really happy about this, because he didn't do anything. It just started working again. So he put it in gear and pulled up the driveway. Without me! Was he going somewhere without me?!? That's not gonna happen!

I decided I should catch him before he left, so I used my super-sharp teeth, and cut myself loose. [jc: Exhibit A by the guilty party shown here] Then he backed back down the driveway, saw what I did, and I think he started to panic (you might remember what happened when I stood in the middle of the street at night). He jumped out, opened the back door of the car, and called for me, and I came flying around and jumped in. Heck, I wasn't really gonna go anywhere, I wanted to test drive my car!

After he finished fussing at me (something about getting run over and something else about destroying a perfectly good 15' lead), we went for a cruise, and everything seemed fine, but he was a little concerned about the unexplained stoppage. It was nice to get out, sit in the front seat, and check out the goings on in the area. It was about 60 degrees out, and there were lots of people on motorcycles. We got back, and he decided before taking the car anywhere again, he'd check a few more things over the next weekend.

Yesterday (a week after he replaced the starter), he checked everything over and spent an hour under the car pulling the wires off the starter and cleaning all the connections a second time. After he took it for a test drive (without me!), he proclaimed it 'Safe For Sherman' (I like the sound of that), and we're ready to rock'n'ride again. Tomorrow we're supposed to go to the park after he makes an apple pie.

So it looks like I'm a dog with wheels again, and we'll be able to hit the parks (it's started to warm up, which I suspect is more the reason than the car. He'd really let me ride in the Impreza, even if it does mean he has to pick up the fur I leave behind).

Now if I could just get over these wintertime itchies and scratchies, everything would be cool.

*woof*

[jc: Net result was 5 hours and $48 replacing a starter that wasn't bad due to a misleading diagnoses. Headlights were bright, battery voltage was good, a 60 amp battery booster didn't help, so the evidence seemed to indicate a bad starter solenoid. The only saving grace is the old starter did sound a little rough, but who knows if it would fail in a month or 10 more years. At least it wasn't a $300 part. I did however, have to grind down a box wrench to fit the one of the three bolts on the brace that keeps the starter from being easily removed... Always something.]

FedEx Package To Adventure!

2009-11-09T11:38:00.004-05:00

Woohoo! Excitement!

Last Thursday, Cindy was taking us out for our afternoon walkies, and as she and I were about to go back into the house, a FedEx truck pulled into the driveway. Just as she opened the door, Makeeta dashed out, barking like a crazy dog.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but Makeeta is rather... defensive... about our house. When I say "defensive", I mean she takes guard duty very seriously. If a jogger goes by, Makeeta tells us all. If a car pulls into the driveway to turn around, Makeeta tells us all. If another dog walks through our yard, Makeeta tells us all. If an ant farts 100 yards away, Makeeta... Well, you get the idea.

Cindy's first thought was that it was a jogger, until she turned around and saw the truck starting to back in. Her first thought was hoping Makeeta didn't run into traffic and get hit by a car. Her second thought was hoping the truck didn't hit Makeeta. And lastly, her third thought was hoping the driver was smart enough to keep the door closed (he wasn't), since she wasn't completely sure what Makeeta might do.

Well, as Cindy was busy doing all this thinking and trying to shove me in the door, she didn't pull the door shut hard enough. So as soon as she turned her back, Moon and I dashed out too. Luckily, the truck didn't hit any of us, although I think it was slow enough for us to get out of the way. It's those fast moving prey... er, cars... that really hurt.

When the truck stopped, Makeeta stopped. And stood there. Looking somewhat puzzled, and probably thinking to herself, "What the hell do I do with it now?". I, being a lover and not a biter, hopped into the truck and asked the driver what he was doing. Moon just kinda stood there, wagging her tail (did you know her nickname is "lump"?)

Cindy caught up to Makeeta and got the leash snapped her, at the same time telling the driver not to worry, and then dragged Makeeta back into the house. She was somewhat uncooperative with that, since all the action was in the driveway. Trucks! Dogs! Humans! On her property! The castle MUST be defended!

After Makeeta has been returned to the house (while still barking furiously) and the door firmly closed, Cindy comes back to get us (I figured I didn't need rescuing, so she much have been thinking about Moon). The driver had gotten out of the truck with the package (I wonder what's in it?) and I hopped out after him. He keeps trying to hand her the package, and she keeps telling him "Just wait a minute, OK?"

Cindy is now worried that because I'm not in the truck, she can't catch me. She starts squeaking, "C'mon, Sherman, come get me!" and runs towards the house. She's using that high voice that's supposed to get my interest, and she expects me to give chase, but I'm not following for that old trick! It worked with jc when I broke loose a few weeks ago, but I learned something there. Oh no, I'm smarter than that now!

At this point, the FedEx driver is laughing pretty hard, so I'm now looking at him. Cindy comes back, calls me, and starts running again, and I slip-up and start chasing her. Damn that overriding prey drive! It's like a siren song. Something moves, I go. So we start back to the house, and here's Moon, who has grown disinterested in the truck and driver, and is rolling in the leaves. Cindy reaches for me, and the spell is broken! I run!

Where? Back to the truck, which I hopped back into. I figured he's a truck driver, trucks go places, I'm a dog that's going places, this could work! I notice as I hop in that the driver is still trying to give the package to Cindy, and he's still laughing about our antics.

Unfortunately, leaping back into the truck revealed a flaw in my plan. I could be caught! And without the driver in the truck, I was a dog that wasn't going anywhere, and fast. Cindy makes it to the truck, and I'm hiding under the steering wheel (maybe she won't see me). She manages to snag my collar, tells me I can't drive (wasn't gonna! That's what the driver is for!) and *snap*, on goes the leash. Luckily for her and me, neither of us knocked the truck out of gear, and it didn't go rolling down the driveway into the house, or onwards into the woods. Out of the truck I am dragged...

She gets the package from the driver, who is trying not to grin like an idiot. Moon follows us into the house, the door is closed, the leash put up. Now normally, after we come back in from 3 o'clock walkies, we get cookies. So we all headed to the cookie closet, and sit expectantly. And you know what?

WE DIDN'T GET ANY COOKIES!

I did finally find out what was in the package when jc got home. Parts for the big noisy floor sucking thing. Which I like to bark at and chase. Game on!

*woof*

Wordless Wednesday

2009-11-04T11:29:00.002-05:00

I Finally Am Allowed To Post Again

2009-11-03T16:21:00.004-05:00

Once again, a large period of time has elapsed since I last talked jc into updating my blog. He keeps coming up with excuses, and it's only because I threatened to chew through all the network cables and pee on the server that he relented and condescended to bring everyone up to date about ME.

The sad reality is I don't live a life as exciting as Beckett or
The Thundering Herd. Which is really sad, 'cause I'm a GSD and they're not. MY life is supposed to be exciting, filled with adventure, rescuing the Timmys from wells, locating lost children, finding IEDs (Improvised Edible Devices), and apprehending crystal meth dealers. Instead, I spent a lot of time snoozed out on the couch, harassing Moon, or playing with Makeeta.

So what's happened in the last 10 months? I almost had jc write an entry I wanted to title 'Hook, Worm & Stinker', where I got a case of worms because I wasn't on the correct meds because we were trying to figure out why I have the itchies & scratchies. I still do, but at least the stuff I'm taking makes me not I&S, but it kinda saps my energy. A little more about that later.

I could talk about the time I yanked Cindy off her feet and got loose. At night, no less. jc and Cindy got out the big flashlights, and were waving at traffic to slow down. I was standing in the middle of the road, with cars stopped on either side of me. I, of course, don't come when I'm called, but jc called me, and started running towards the house. That ol' prey drive kicked in, and I chased him down to the house, where he flung open the front door and I went skidding on in. Yup, I got played. By a human. Now when Cindy takes me out, she uses a wrap around her waist and snaps the leash to it. That way, even if I pull her down, I'm not going anywhere.

Since about late September, the weather has been good for walking. jc and I go to the park and walk a few laps. I used to be able to walk 5 laps [jc: A lap is about .83 miles] without even slowing down, but now after 2 or 3, I have to take a breather. These meds I take for the itchies & scratchies take it out of me. It's a known side effect, and we still don't know why I have the I&S's in the first place. jc feels we're treating a symptom and not a cause. Tonia (remember her? She was my vet until she retired in April. Lucky her!) was just glad I wasn't on Predisone any more, because that can have long-term bad effects.

I really enjoy walking in the park. There's often kids there, and they almost always want to pet me (what self-respecting human wouldn't? I mean, I'm a GSD!). jc encourages them to come up and pet me, and has even gotten some really scared ones to do it. Sometimes they just touch me, and sometimes they pet me like so much I think I won't have any fur left! jc says I'm an "Ambassador of Good Will for GSDs". I'm told there are nasty people out there that teach their dogs to be mean, and some people are scared of GSDs (can you imagine?). To show that not all GSDs are bad, he encourages people to pet me.

Recently we were up there, and there was a little girl who was about 1 1/2 years old. We walked by and she squealed in delight. jc ask her parents if she wanted to pet me, and they said she would. So I sat still while she came over and touched my nose. Then she gave me a great big old hug, and held my paw, and whispered in my ear. I gave her the ol' nose-lick and she giggled. She kept wanting to pet me, but we had to finish the walk and get home to dinner. This kid had no fear, so I think she'll be fine with big dogs when she gets older.

Another time we were strolling through the play-ground area (I'll get jc to take some pictures with the Giggle Phone), and a little boy was toddling around. jc asked his dad if he wanted to pet me, and the dad had the brains to ask, "Is he friendly?". Seriously. I mean, isn't that the dumbest thing you've heard? Like a human is going to walk some baby-killer through a public park. Yah, right! Dad was told "Of course not. He loves kids." So the little kid petted on me, and I did the ol' nose-lick for him too. Now I dunno what this kid was eating, but it was good. So I kept giving him nose-licks, and he kept giggling. Dad allowed as how I sure was a friendly dog (the man is a genius...).

You may remember from a previous post that I said I liked to go to Van Pugh Park and walk on the islands. Lake Lanier has come up 20 feet from it's lowest level, and now the islands are almost gone. We tried to go walking on one, but some loser had a little puff dog running around loose (leashes, humans, we need to be on freakin' leashes!), and jc didn't want me to risk getting indigestion from eating it. So we gave up and went somewhere else.

Well, that's about it from now. If something interesting happens, I'll be sure to update y'all on it. But unless someone pushes a Timmy into a well, and I'm nearby, I'll probably be on the couch...

*woof*

Christmas; Scratchies; It's Cold

2009-01-21T09:36:00.008-05:00

Well, I see it's been a month since I've last made an entry. I, of course, blame the humans.

This picture was taken when we were visiting Tonia, at the vet. She's really nice to me. She thinks most German Shepherds are drama queens and evil, wicked, mean and nasty. But for some reason, she likes me! I'm glad about that, 'cause I'd be happy to lick her nose any old time. But I think my expression looks like "Wait, you want to do *what*!?"

Christmas was fun. We went down to jc's mom's house. On the way, we stopped by his office, which has a 14,000 square foot warehouse that's basically empty. I brought a tennis ball and had jc and Cindy throw it. I could get a good head of steam up running in there!

There's also a carpeted area up front that's about 60' by 60' with some old cubicle furniture stacked in the middle. jc was chasing me around, running in circles. He looked pretty silly, but we definitely had fun. I can really get some good high speed cornering going on that carpet. I just wish we could have brought Makeeta along. Maybe one weekend we'll all cruise down there and play for a couple hours.

When we got to Judith's (jc's mom), I met several people I didn't know. They were all very nice, and commented on what a handsome dog I am (I am!). I acted pretty cool about the whole thing, although I made jc hold my leash most of the time, just in case those kids got out of hand. A dog needs his person to protect him, as I'm told that if I take matters into my own paws (or teeth, as the case may be), Bad Things could happen. I was more worried about getting stepped on than anything.

During dinner I had to stay in my crate. I wasn't too thrilled about that, as I could smell some great smells coming from the kitchen, and all the people and fun were out there. I sort of did try to eat a tube of yellow paint (Judith is an artist and a writer, and had an assortment of paint on a table that I managed to walk the crate close to). I only bit the edge of the tube, and I guess lucky for me it was non-toxic.

OK, now I would like to point out some of the silliness I am occasionally subjected to. Apparently, there's a tradition of some sort involving wearing silly hats, glasses, or what-have-you. This year, it was glasses. Everyone thought it would be cute if I were in the picture too, so here you have it: One embarrassed German Shepherd Dog, and his human. Please notice how my jaws, capable of exerting over 200 pounds per square inch, and my razor sharp teeth, are not locked around his neck.

I still have the itchies and scratchies (That might be a good name for a cartoon... The Itchy & Scratchy Show... nah. No one would watch it). I've been taking Prednisone, which has helped, but we still haven't figured out the underlying cause. You might remember that I mentioned that Makeeta and I both switched to Nutro, but the I&S's pre-dated that, I'm pretty sure. Well, I'm back on the Royal Canin, and we'll see if it goes away. My haunches aren't naked, but they still don't look as good as they should.

On the weather front, we've had several major cold snaps in the last month. Some nights have been down to 13F! I'm glad I have a nice warm home, and people to take care of me ("I have people!"). This morning it was 20F. Believe you me, when I went out, I was *quick* about it! (Did you get my joke? "Weather front"... heh heh!)

I think that about brings everything up to date. No major life-changing events (probably a good thing). Between these temperatures and the dark, haven't gotten any walking in. I'll have to be careful about that, don't want my human to get fat.

Oh, and it seems we have a new president. The first black president, too. Probably have a woman president before too long. But we truly won't have equality until we have a German Shepherd Dog for president. And you can bet your life we'd run this country better than any human! A bone in every dish! Two tennis balls in every garage! Yea, that's the ticket...

*woof*

My Ethereal Presence

2008-12-22T11:47:00.003-05:00

See that angelic glow? That's because I'm an angelic dog. Really. Cindy laughed at me when I told jc to type that, but I don't get the joke. And the halo didn't show up, for *some* reason. I suspect it's that stupid Giggle Phone camera at work.

The only real excitement I had lately was seeing Tonia. I had been getting kinda of itchy and scratchy. In fact, my haunches look a little ragged, because I either pulled some fur out chewing, or it fell out. Honestly, I don't remember which. Maybe I did it in my sleep, but I couldn't find any signs of the missing fur.

So, at my insistence, jc and Cindy took me to see Tonia. Turner, Tonia's 5 year old daughter was there. Although I hadn't met her before, she immediately took to me (I'm a GSD! What self-respecting kid *wouldn't* love me? I mean, seriously...) She had on a white doctors coat, like Tonias. With a little prompting, Turner decided I had a 'Prednisone deficiency', which was confirmed by her mom. The gave me some Predisone and some medicated shampoo to try.

So the next day, jc and Cindy gave me a bath. Last time I had one, the people at Petsmart did it, and also cut some mats and stuff out (you may recall that from an earlier post). I think they were expecting the worst from me, but I was a good sport, and basically stood there. I think I only tried to get out of the tub once or twice, but I didn't really put my heart into it. I figured if the bath would keep me from being itchy, I could tolerate it. Besides, I'd really like that fur to come back, because I'm not at my best looking without it.

And best of all? It seems to work. I haven't been itching or scratching hardly any for a week. I'm supposed to get another bath tommorrow, but I'm told this will be the last one. As some of you may know, GSD's shouldn't be bathed frequently because it dries out our skin. jc suspects I got the dry skin itchies and scratchies from when the heater was turned on for the winter. Sleeping on top of the vent probably doesn't help, but it does keep my butt warm.

I continue to try to teach jc to howl, and I think he's getting the idea. I get him to play a YouTube video of a dog howling, and encourage him to howl along. Once I get going good, he'll howl along with me. [jc: Nice try, Sherman. It's YOU who's supposed to howl on command, and you're slowly getting the idea.]

So this Christmas thing sounds interesting. I think this will be my second one, but I was pretty young for the last one, and don't recall it. It was explained to me that if I was 'good', Santa Paws would bring some goodies for me. I'd really like a new Nylabone, since I've chewed the one I have down to a nub. I'm not sure what all I could ask for, since I have a furever home, people that love me, I eat well, and have Makeeta and Moon to play with/harass.

Now would be a good time to remind everyone that there's a lot of dogs (and cats) out there that have been abandoned because their people couldn't afford to keep them anymore. I don't know much about economics and housing markets and such, but I do know it's not cool when people give up their furry friends. If you have some extra cash, consider giving it to a local shelter to help feed those who aren't as lucky as us. Even $5 helps a lot! Shelters often have arrangements to buy food at discounted prices, so while $5 is only part of a bag of dog food for me, it's a lot of food for the shelter animals. [jc: Seriously. Skip that 6 pack of beer, that pack of cigarettes, or that DVD you'll watch one time, and give the money to a shelter.]

Well, from me, Makeeta, Moon, Cindy and jc, happy holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all that stuff. Bark at you soon!

*woof*

I Am Neglected And Woeful

2008-12-08T16:47:00.005-05:00

OK, it's not actually quite that bad. It's just with this time change I'm not getting out and about like we did in the summer. And nothing particularly exciting has happened in the last couple weeks, either.

To make matters worse, jc has been "in the zone" working on an application for his Giggle Phone. I'll get him through this, though. I sleep in the couch in his office while he's working, bring my tug toy in to distract him, and occasionally stick my nose in his side to make him jump.

To be fair, we did go out Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and then Thursday. We wanted to get out every day, but the weather was pretty miserable. This Saturday we didn't get out either, as it was a balmy 48, but heavily overcast and somewhat windy. And I don't really like having my ears pinned back by the wind...

But! We did get out Sunday, and walked 5 laps, or about 4 miles through the park. I went out on the tennis court with a ball I found. jc found another ball, and I couldn't decide which I liked better, so I kept trying to pick both up. I can't do what this guy does, but I like to think it's because a GSD is too classy, and I just don't want to... yeah, that's the ticket!

I'm trying to decide if I want jc and Cindy to take me to Petsmart to have my picture taken with Santa Paws. I'm pretty sure I'd get along with the old guy, but I might have to open a can of whupass on any other dogs around, and I'd probably get yelled at. I like that the money goes to a good cause, namely the shelter that took me off the streets, and ~~cut my nads off~~ found me my furever home. Instead, I think I'll just forge a check in jc and Cindys name and send it off.

What else has happened that's interesting... Lots of sleeping, lots of harassing Moon, and playing with Makeeta. Have I mentioned I really like ice cubes? jc goes through a lot of iced tea, and when he fills his glass, he gives us all a cube. But last time I had one, I promptly barfed on the carpet. Carpet is better to puke on, 'cause it's a lot more like grass than the linoleum in the kitchen. Besides, I might slip on the linoleum while I'm hurling, and hurt myself. Luckily, I hadn't had any treats, otherwise tossing my cookies would've been messy. [jc: Sherman, I think they get the idea...]

Well, jc is muttering about me taking too long to go on about nothing, and he's ready to "get back in the zone", so I guess I'll let y'all get back to the more mundane things in life, instead of reading about the exciting things that've been happening lately. Maybe I'll go see if I can find some more ice cubes...

Or maybe I'll go bury that damned Giggle Phone.

*woof!*

Strange Things Are Afoot Today!

2008-11-13T13:32:00.003-05:00

OK, not really, but it's Thursday, I'm bored, and I haven't had a good walk since Sunday, and probably won't until Saturday. jc was right, this time change thing is stupid. I am going to petition to go bite whomever is in charge of this nonsense.

This is a picture of my footprints from the second time we went walking in Van Pugh Park. You can tell jc took it with his Gigglephone because one of the prints is chopped off :)

Having nothing better to do than lay around the house and occasionally provoking Makeeta or Moon into playing with me, I will let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before.

*woof*

Hiking In Elachee And Hiking My Leg

2008-11-10T22:09:00.008-05:00

Sunday, as promised, jc took me to Elachee Nature Science Center, along with Cindy and Moon, where we went hiking.

It was a beautiful day for walking, with the sun out, and the temperature around 60 degrees. The trails were dry, and there was a nice breeze.

Cindy and Moon walked part of the Mathis Trail, shown in blue on the right side of the map. Moon's not as spry as I am (she's at least 8), so they stuck to the shorter, easier trail for her benefit.

jc and I took the long route. We took the Elachee Trail to the Mathis Trail, then picked up the East Lake Trail, around to the Aquatic Studies Center, then took the West Lake Trail back up to the Lake Trailhead, took that short cut-over back to Mathis, and then left back on to Elachee.

jc added up the distance we walked, and it looks like it was about 5.25 miles. My feet claim it's longer! It seemed a lot further to me than the 6 times around the park, which is 5 miles. I wasn't sore, 'cause I'm in pretty good shape with all the walking we do, but it was a haul.

There were lots of cool smells, and I think I tried to pee on just about everything. jc was getting tired of waiting for me, so sometimes I'd suddenly be dragged by my neck 10 feet up the trail before I caught up. You humans just don't appreciate that we dogs need to tell everyone else we've been here!

We're all supposed to wear leashes while we're in the park, but some people aren't as responsible as mine. I got sorta charged at by an old, mostly black German Shepherd, but luckily he pulled up short before I had to pull out a can of whoopass and let him have it. I think jc was pretty proud of me, because you know how I can be around other dogs, and I just kinda stood there. Didn't even bark! His people were real apologetic that he wasn't on his leash, and we all talked for a couple minutes.

We went on our way and ran into a Springer Spaniel (those are dumb looking dogs. I'm embarrassed they're of the same species), but he/she/it didn't get close enough for me to have to protect jc.

A little further on there was a golden lab that I had to bark at. At first I thought it might be Beckett, because he looked similar. If I knew what Beckett smelled like, I'd have known right away, but I've only seen pictures. jc told me to hush, and then I realized that the odds of Beckett being 600 miles away from home on the weekend we happened to go to Elachee were pretty slim. I saw some other dogs here and there, but we all pretty much ignored each other.

This picture is of the Aquatic Studies Center. I don't know what all exactly goes on there, but it's an artificial wetlands of some sort. I heard someone saying they have educational programs there for kids.

We didn't go down to the water, but circled around the lake. The picture is taken from an earthen dam that forms one edge of the lake. There's lots of tall grass there, and some really good smelling things.

You probably know we dogs don't see in color very well, but jc said the trees were really bright and colorful. He was happy, so I was happy.

OK, this thing on the right is a suspension bridge, and quite frankly, it scared the pee out of me. Well, not literally, because after marking 45,682 trees and bushes, I was dry.

It's narrow, 150 feet long, and when you walk on it, it starts bouncing. jc says it's sturdy and safe, and I crossed it, but the first time we crossed it, I stopped in the middle, and was thinking about not going any further.

But I'm a Brave German Shepherd(tm), so after jc petted me and told me I'd be fine, I went all the way across, and then back again. I don't really like it, but I need to get over any fears of the unknown if I'm going to set a good example for other GSDs.

While none of the trails were hard (I've got 4-paw drive!), the West Lake Trail seems to not be maintained as well. There were a lot more trees down across the trail, and some I had to go under, and some I jumped over.

There were some ditches that had logs cut in half and laid across them to walk on, but I went through the ditches. jc said if I ever want to do agility work, I'm going to have to learn to walk on them. I think next time he's going to try to get me to walk across the boards. If he has some treats with him, I'd be more inclined to give it a shot, I think. *grin*

We had a really nice day, and when we got home, I was ready for a nap. Oh, I forgot to mention, since Moon went with us, Makeeta had to stay home. And, boy, was she mad! She was making all sorts of racket when we left, and when we got back she gave me a 200% inspection, to see where I'd been and what I'd been doing. Maybe next time we'll leave Moon at home, and Makeeta will get to go with me.

Bark at you later!

I Cause Grevious Injury; There Are Reprecussions

2008-11-09T08:28:00.008-05:00

Today, I injured jc, although to listen to him, you'd think he should be in the trauma center at the hospital. Here's what I did:

How did I do this? Well, jc took me out this morning for my usual tour of the back yard to take care of business (you know, make sure all the trees are still there, eat some grass, whiz on 6 or 7 trees, maybe finally get around to #2). Now, you've probably not seen any pictures of our yard, but we live on a sloped lot of 2.2 acres. Here's a picture to get the idea of the slope of the wooded area:

If you read my previous posts, you know I kinda have a slightly high prey drive [jc: On a scale of 1 to 10, it would be 12]. So I was standing there, getting ready to finally take care of business, when who should I see at the bottom of the hill (even further down than you can see in the picture), but my arch enemy, Mr. Squirrel:

I started to chase his fuzzy butt, nearly yanking jc off his feet. jc grabbed a tree to keep me from dragging him down the hill (I kinda forgot he was still holding the leash), and scraped his hand on the tree. He held on tight, and after a couple seconds I realized I should have thought this through a little better. Result? The hoosegow!

OK, not really. That's just a picture jc had of me in my crate. I got fussed at, and threatened with going back to the prong collar when I go out. At least I didn't eat the stupid squirrel. And I tried to tell jc pain is just sickness leaving the body, but I don't think he was buying that. Especially about the time soap got into the scrape.

Anyways, on a more positive note, jc said today we're going to go to a place called Elachee Nature Science Center where they have a bunch of trails. I think we're going to walk the 4 mile trail today. Maybe I'll see some squirrels!

*woof*

Walking The Shores Of Lake Lanier

2008-11-03T09:20:00.007-05:00

Sunday I took jc for a walk around some of the islands of Lake Lanier. This handsome dog sitting on the rocks is me (in case you didn't know!).

Usually we go to a little park up the street, where we walk around the edge of the park 3 times, which is about 2.5 miles. I decided we should go somewhere different, so I loaded jc up in the car and had him drive me to Van Pugh Park.

When the lake is full, the islands are not connected. However, with the lake down over 18 feet, you almost can't tell they're separate islands. I included a little map of our walk at the bottom, but the imagery is obviously from when the lake is up.

There were lots of interesting things to smell. I found all sorts of little pockets in the rocks that were neat, too many beer cans (you dumb humans just have to leave your trash everywhere, don't you?), lots of burnt wood from campfires, and other stuff I couldn't really identify.

This is a tree I saw on a rock, so I got jc to take a picture of it for me. He got one those new T-Mobile G1 Giggle Phones he's always messing with [jc: It's a 'GooglePhone', Sherman. I keep telling you that]. It turned out OK, and at least my feet weren't lopped in this picture (mostly, I suppose, because I am not in it) [jc: YOU try holding a leash, and taking a picture with the sun reflecting off the LCD, and see if YOU can do any better, Sherman].

Maybe next time I'll get him to bring the big camera that takes much better pictures of me. Because I am *always* photography-worthy and picture-ready.

On a different note, I had a flash-back this weekend. Some people came over to get some firewood that my friend William had cut up in the back yard. I slipped out the door to talk to the two guys, when I saw their pick-up truck. I ran around to the back of it and jumped in. It seemed so natural, and jc kinda had to drag me out of it. I'm pretty sure I used to ride in the back of a truck all the time. While the pick-up is cool, I think I'll stick to the station wagon. No wind in my ears, but it's safer.

Here's that picture of the path we walked. We started at the southern most point of the connected dots.

If we keep doing this, my footpads are going to be tough as nails. That sand and those shells are rough on the paws of a dog who leads an easy life.

Speaking of doing this again, apparently there's some idiotic twice-yearly ordeal about changing the time. As I understand it, it's now going to be too dark most days when jc gets home to take me to the park for a proper walk. He seems pretty pissed off about this, muttering about how having to work for a living really sucks, and that stupid little kids can go to school in the dark perfectly well, because when he was a kid, they had to walk to school up hill both ways, in 7 feet of snow (what's snow?) while it was pitch-black dark, and THEY had to worry about being attacked by wild mooses, something these soft, weak, pampered brats of today have no concept of, and how without a cellphone to keep their ears warm, they'd probably freeze to death.

I dunno much about this, but I do know I enjoy my walks, and I'm going to miss them if that's the case. Plus, my humans need the exercise to keep them from getting fat (me, I'm a mean, lean, chipmunk chasing machine!).

*woof*

Today, We Dine On Chipmunk!

2008-10-22T09:38:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was fun! Cindy took me out for my afternoon yard patrol/duty walk, and I saw a squirrel. Even though I'm not supposed to, I went after it, yanking the leash I keep Cindy on (so she doesn't get lost) out of her hand. I chased the stupid squirrel up the tree, then sat under it, barking like a mad dog.

I saw Cindy getting closer and decided she needed some play-time, so I ran off a ways so she could chase me. Every time she got close, I'd run off again. We went up and down the backyard, back and forth, and I was having a great old time.

Then I saw the chipmunk. I chased that little rodent and caught him. I was busy getting ready to have lunch, when Cindy caught up (I guess I wasn't paying attention closely enough to my human). She grabbed me and made me drop it.

It ran off a couple feet, turned around, and RAN RIGHT BACK INTO MY MOUTH! Oh, I was so ready for that taste of warm fresh-killed meat. Then Cindy made me drop it again. That sucker was just about down my throat, and just the tail was hanging out of my mouth. And she made me drop it... sigh. It's so hard to have fun.

After she made me drop it, it didn't move again. I'm pretty sure I killed the little guy, at least if the ripped throat and blood everywhere was any indication. Oh well, while I didn't get to eat it, at least some lucky hawk will have a free lunch. [jc's note: Hawk taking a squirrel video].

[cindy's note: It's not the eating of the chipmunk I really object to, it's the cleaning up after Sherman when a digestive system used to kibble is suddenly fed something radically out of the norm. If you get my drift...]

Picture Of A Lazy Monday Afternoon

2008-10-13T15:08:00.002-04:00

Because being Sherman 24/7 is tiring...

What I Learned At Camp Diana

2008-10-06T16:50:00.010-04:00

So earlier I mentioned that I got sent to Camp Diana after I acted like a complete ass at Petsmart. This is what happened...

When I got adopted, one of the agreements was that I'd get some training. I don't know why I need training, I know how to act like a dog. I run around, I grab things off counters, I bark at other dogs, and I pull on the leash. What else do I need to know?

Well, according to jc and Cindy, I shouldn't grab things from counters, bark at other dogs, or pull on the leash. Running around is apparently OK, at least most of the time.

They signed me up for a basic training course at Petsmart, and I was supposed to start about two weeks after that. jc mentioned to the trainer that I have "issues" with other dogs when I'm on a leash. By "issues", I think they mean when I bark, snarl, jump and act like an idiot towards the other dog. I'm just telling them that I'm in charge, and they need to respect my authority! (jc's note: What Sherman Says (mp3)) The trainer said she could "fix" this, although I still fail to see a problem.

So two weeks roll by, and we all jump in the car to go to Petsmart for the first class. We went early so jc and Cindy could discuss some things with the trainer a little more. We get up there, and there's a large glassed-off area, so jc took me in there and was throwing the ball around while we waited for the trainer to show up. After a while, some lady comes over and tells us that class was canceled because the trainer had to help her daughter move into the dorm, and she should have called us. Turns out she didn't call anyone.

So we left the glassed in area, and were sitting around just outside of it. Some nice people came by, patted me on the head, told me I was a handsome dog (I am!), and fussed over me a little bit. Then some other people came in the store, and had a dog with them, and I used my best "This is *my* turf!" bark. They looked scared, so I figured I had gotten the message across. jc said something about "Yea-ah. He's here for class for this." and the people looked sorta like "Uh oh".

Those people went down an isle, and some more people came by, patted me on the head, told me I was a nice looking guy (I am!) and stuff. Then another dog came in, and I had to tell him this was *my* turf! And jc said, "Yea-ah. He's here for training." They didn't look too impressed either.

They went down and isle, and some other people came by, looked at me and said "Was that the dog that was barking? We were at the back of the store, and we thought someone was fixing to get massacred." They didn't pet me or tell me how pretty I am (I am!).

At this point, jc said to Cindy "We need to call Diana." and Cindy agreed. So we got home a little after that, and jc called Diana. I could sorta hear both sides of the conversation, and she said "Oh yea, I can fix him." At first I thought she meant like what happened at the vet when I got "fixed" (and wasn't broke!), but then I realized she was talking about me having to tell other dogs I was large and in charge. She and jc talked for a good hour or so, and some arrangements were made for me to spend two weeks with Diana.

Now I keep referring to it as Camp Diana, but it's really DogStar Training Academy. Diana has been working with aggressive dogs for years (I'm not!) and jc and Cindy knew her from when they boarded Anvil and Sunshine (two dogs I've never met) several years ago.

A few days went by, and on a Sunday morning we all got in the car and went for a ride to her place. I jumped out of the car and Diana petted me and told me I was a nice looking guy (I am!), and what not. She and jc and Cindy started talking about what I should be learning, but at that point it was sorta "blah blah blah Sherman blah blah blah". Diana stuck me in the backyard for a bit, and they went back to talking. I kinda started digging under the gate, but someone noticed and I got scolded. So I went back to pacing around the backyard. I smelled other dogs, and some chickens that were off aways, and some cats and stuff.

Next thing I hear is the car starting and jc and Cindy left. Without me!! *arrrooooooo*

The next two weeks were kind of a blur. Diana spent a lot of time with me making me sit, lay down, walk next to her, sit, lay down, walk next to her, sit... you get the idea. At one point, I did manage to bust out of the crate and eat $30 worth of high-end dog treats. I had some beef jerky, and gluten free stuff, and a couple pawfuls of other stuff. It was good! I also dragged out the towels from under the bench and laid down for a nap. Diana was surprised when she found me all sacked out there.

At the end of two weeks, jc and Cindy came back, and I showed them what I learned. Diana taught jc and Cindy the tricks and words she used on me, and I walked around (tried to chase the cat, but I wasn't allowed), and sat, and laid down, and stuff. Then we got in the car and headed home.

I was really glad to be home and see Makeeta and Moon (although she didn't seem to feel the same way), and be with my people. I was almost starting to think they had abandoned me. But I was pretty sure jc wouldn't do that, 'cause I know they had to pay money to bring me home, and they seemed to like me.

So all in all, when it was an intense two weeks, I think I learned some stuff, and I'm better off now. jc says it's a lot more pleasant to take me on walks. I'm still not so good with other dogs, but I'm learning some self control.

Oh, I almost forgot! Diana did a "psych evaluation" on me. Apparently I have a low defense drive (which means I'm not likely to bite someone. I already knew that), a high prey drive (chase the birdies! chase the kitties! chase the squirrels!), and a virtually non-existent pack drive (I am "independent"). This means I do the things I want to, when I want to, for my own reasons.

*bark!*

jc's So Busy...

2008-10-03T11:36:00.003-04:00

jc has been too busy to post my stories for me, but I at least wanted him to post this picture of me with my favorite ball.

Diana is supposed to come over to tomorrow, and we're going to the park. I keep having trouble getting ahead while we're walking, and sometimes I get stepped on. Apparently Diana is going to help me see what I'm doing wrong. So NOT looking forward to this...

*bark*

I Have A Thing About Cellphones

2008-09-25T09:30:00.003-04:00

(I thought I'd take this opportunity to share what I did last night, even though I haven't finished bringing everyone up to date on everything else that's happened).

As you know from my previous posts, I have this "thing" about cellphones. Last night I tried to bring the cellphone to jc so I could call Cesar Millan ('The Dog Whisperer' guy), 'cause I had a question about training my humans. I couldn't get the charging plug loose from the phone, so I just bit through the cord.

I had left the phone by the basement door, because something else shiny caught my attention for a moment, and then I went out for walkies, and then jc went to bed, and I laid down in the bedroom.

A few minutes later Cindy comes in and says "Guess what Junior (she calls me that sometimes) did this time?" I don't think jc really wanted to know, but she told him anyway. I had completely forgotten about it at this point, so I jumped up and suggested they call Cesar, but they ignored me.

jc took the charger to work on Thursday and spliced the cord back together. I was admonished not to do that again, and if I wanted to make a call, please just come and tell them, don't try to bring the phone.

I'm not supposed to play with the remote, mess with the cellphones, read the books... How's a guy supposed to be a hip, modern, technologically-ept pup if I can't play with the cool toys?!?

Bark!

I Am Houndini!

2008-09-24T09:59:00.001-04:00

Or Sherman-dini... See the picture on the right here? That's me, in my crate. I stay in here when neither jc or Cindy are home. They say it's because I steal dish towels, tear up magazines, destroy library books, and chew on cellphones (of course, if she actually TOOK IT WITH HER, it wouldn't be there for me to make calls on, right?), and it's for my own safety. Personally, I think it's so Makeeta gets the toys to herself.

The crate was given to me by some friends of theirs. It didn't have the tray on the bottom, and the botton has 3 bars running across and 2 bars running the length. Cindy made me go in when she went out, but I figured out something neat. If I stand up, my back presses against the top of the crate, but my feet will stick out the bottom, so I can walk the crate around. So I walked it into the living room, tipped it over, and escaped through the bottom.

Imagine how surprised Cindy was when she got home, and all three of us greeted her at the top of the stairs. She wasn't sure how I did it, since the crate was still upright (I only tipped it over far enough to crawl out, not all the way over), and the door was still locked. Pretty smart, huh?

When jc got home, he just started laughing. Then he went downstairs and made a bunch of noise, and a bit later, brought up a sheet of 3/4" plywood that just fits into the bottom. Now I can't do my Shermandini trick anymore. Looks like when I go in, I'm in to stay. But I'm practicing using my psychic dog mind rays to make them *think* they've locked the doors. It hasn't worked yet, but I'm still trying.

The picture at the top is grainy because it came from a "web cam". jc set one up in his office that watches the crate and hallway, and one in the living room. I think he wanted to see if I could do my Shermandini trick again. I know a couple of times he's called Cindy on the Nextel to have her check on me. I only had the dish towel to keep it away from Moon. Yea, thaaaat's the ticket!

I gotta say, though, I think the plywood is a bit more comfortable then laying on the bars. After jc cut it down to size, he sanded the whole thing with 200 grit paper, so it's nice and smooth, and I won't get splinters in my butt. They're always looking out for me, and I do have it pretty good here. Fresh water, a lot of food twice a day, cookies, and every Friday we get Greenies! Yumm.

Ok, that's it for now. Next time I'll tell you about going to Petsmart and how I acted like a complete ass, and wound up for 2 weeks at Camp Diana.

Woof!

I Learn To Use A Cellphone And Try To Learn Reading

2008-09-22T19:59:00.002-04:00

(This is the picture of me that Yvonne put up on the web to help me find my forever home.)

OK, so jc is home from work, we went outside and practiced sitting, laying down, and walking nice, so now he's ready to type for me some more.

When I got to my new home, for the first few nights they made me sleep in a crate. I guess they were worried I'd try to start something with Makeeta or Moon. Although I ate the hot dog bits they tried to bait me with, I made it really difficult and put up a pretty good fight about going in. Once or twice they tricked me when I went to the back of the crate to grab the hot dog. They gave me a shove and locked me in! I caught on to that pretty quick.

On the fourth night, after 45 minutes of me being smarter than them, they gave up and let me sleep outside the crate. I'm pretty good at sleeping, and I stayed in one of two spots, either right on top of this hole that blows cold air ['air conditioning vent' --jc] or next to the edge of the bed. I think this pleased them because I haven't had to sleep in the crate since then. I think the real reason I don't like the crate much is because I can't see out except for the front, and I like to know what's going on.

Unfortunately, I was still being forced into a crate when they went out during day. Usually Cindy is home with me, but sometimes she goes shopping, to the gym, or whatever. She'd try to bribe me with treats, but I really don't like the crate. She'd end up grabbing me and making me go in, which I really don't like. But I kinda got even...

One night they went out to dinner with some friends, and I was in the crate (I put up quite an argument!). jc had flipped the crate door over so it opened the other way. There's some holes in one side for the hinge, and some slots in the other for the locking bars. With the door flipped over, you have to carefully align the locking bars into the holes. Well, he didn't notice the bars weren't locked properly, and I didn't say anything. After they left, I waited for a little bit to make sure they weren't coming right back.

I pushed on the door, and as I expected, it opened right up. I was free, Free, FREE! Woo hoo! I charged around the house, Makeeta and me wrestled a bit. I found some magazines on the floor and tried to look at the pictures, but they got all shredded.

Then I discovered Cindy left her cell phone on the table. They've got that Nextel service with that push-button thing that makes the phone make a weird little noise. I figured since they went out to dinner, I'd call them and tell them to bring us back a doggy bag. I bit on the phone and it made the Nextel noise. But when I tried to bark my order, the button wasn't pressed, so they didn't hear what I wanted. I tried a couple more times, but without "opposable thumbs", I couldn't make it work (I heard later they were confused then worried when the phone beeped and no one was there). I think I bit a little hard, because there were some extra holes in the phone. And I sort of gnawed on the antenna some...

Then I found a couple books from the library, and opened them up looking for pictures and trying to make sense of the words. I pulled some pages out to see them better, but got kinda frustrated so I took it out on the books. This reading thing is overrated, so I gave up.

A little bit later they came home, and me, Makeeta and Moon all greeted them at the top of the stairs. I don't think they were expecting me to be there, though. I ran into the living room to show them my work, and they were all "ooooh noooo....".

I sort of expected to be yelled at for getting out of my crate and using the phone without permission, but nothing happened. jc said something it being his own fault not making sure the door was securely locked.

A couple days later I got another crate, this one made of wire that I can see out of. It's a lot better, and I really don't mind going it into it. jc leaves it in his office, since I only have to go in it when they both aren't home.

Next time I'll tell you how I got out of it. *grin*

Bark!

Hi, I'm Sherman (part II)

2008-09-22T11:52:00.002-04:00

In my last post, I told you how I wound up with jc, Cindy, Makeeta and Moon.

The first couple weeks after I was in my new home, Makeeta pretty much ignored me. I'd try to get her to play, but she'd just kinda lift her lip and snarl. Then she warmed up, and we're like best-buds now. On a normal day, we wrestle quite a bit, and chase each other in a loop through the living room and kitchen.

We've got some toys we play with. There's a loop of rope with a handle, and I'll get her or one of the humans to play tug with me. I think they're surprised just how strong I am, even though I only weigh about 70 pounds. Makeeta is a little bigger than me, about 85 pounds or so, and man, can she pull! I put all my weight and strength into it, and she STILL drags me backwards.

There's also some plastic bones I like to chew on. On the ride home, we stopped at some place called Petsmart that had a lot of food and toys and stuff. I got a bath there, and they cut some mats out of my ears and back end. Yvonne and her friends gave me a bath before I left, but some of those mats were pretty tough, and I think they didn't want to make me look too stupid with a bunch of fur missing. I feel a lot better without them, and I look more handsome (*grin*). Anyways, at Petsmart, they got me a Nylabone. It kinda tastes like ham, but not really. I've chewed it down about half-way now.

Sometimes I'll be chewing on the bone and leave it for a minute to go check something out, and Makeeta will run over and grab it, and then lay on it. She's not even chewing it! I think she's doing that to tell me she's the boss. She's older, bigger, and a girl, so I guess it's true. I don't really care, as long as she likes me.

I keep trying to get Moon to play, but I think she's a lost cause. I overheard the humans saying something about she may have been owned by an older couple or something and never learned how. Moon either ignores me, or just growls. Makeeta says she's tried to get her to play the last couple years with the same results. Oh well, her loss! It's fun to charge through the house, chase the ball, play tug, or whatever.

I think she might know how to fight, though. A couple times while Makeeta and I were learning to play nice together, we got into some fights. Then Moon tried to jump in. I don't know if she was trying to help me, help Makeeta, or just bite one of us. We all got yelled at real bad. jc can shout"NO!" so loudly it nearly scares the pee out of me. He'll wade in between us and yank us apart. I'm pretty sure if I bit him, even accidentally, my furry little butt would be in deep, deep trouble. Luckily, I'm a lover, not a biter.

jc says he has to go to work, and he'll finish typing for me later. Next time I'll tell you about how I tried to learn to read.

Hi, I'm Sherman

2008-09-21T18:55:00.002-04:00

[I can't type, so I'm dictating to my human. Any typo's, mispellings, incorrect grammar, etc are all his fault.]

I'm Sherman, a male German Shepherd Dog. They say I'm about 2 years old, but no-one knows for sure. I don't remember much from before my new humans adopted me. I was having a good time roaming around Walton county when someone called Animal Control and claimed I was vicious. That is *so* not true...

Anyways, after doing some time in the animal control lock-up, someone there called Alcovy Pet Rescue. A nice lady came down, grabbed my ears, pulled my tail, stuck her hand in my mouth, grabbed my paws and generally tried to piss me off. But I'm a friendly sort, so I let her, especially since I thought it might get me out of this place. And it must have worked, because then...

I went to a boarding facility that Alcovy uses, and I met this nice lady Yvonne who thought I was the cat's meow (you know what cats are good for? A snack! Hee hee hee), and she was pretty sure she could find me a forever home. She took my picture, fed me, found a comfortable place for me to sleep. It all seemed pretty good, then she got mean. She took me to the vet. I'm pretty sure I've been to a vet before, but it wasn't anything like this!

They jabbed me with some needles, poked and prodded me, fussed over me, and then I got real sleepy. When I woke up, my 'nads were gone! And I had stitches. It was the weekend, and no one was around, so I ripped them out. It probably wasn't a good idea, but, hell, I was BORED. There was just me, a few barking dogs, and I was cooped up in the crate, and the stitches hurt. What else was I gonna do?

So I got sleepy again, and when I woke up, I had MORE stitches. Something about "damn, he was lucky we didn't have to remove his pee-pee." Not sure what that meant, but it didn't sound good. So anyways, I go back to the boarding facility and hung out there.

The picture she took of me must have been really good, because it was only up on the computer for a half a day before some humans called and wanted to meet me. Yvonne said we could all meet at Petsmart, but they veto'ed that idea, saying it would be too distracting for me. They decided to come out to the boarding facility and meet me here.

They arrived Saturday morning, and I was wound up, let me tell you! We went into a large fenced off area, and they petted me and I charged around and kinda acted like an idiot. It was a lot of fun, and they must really like me, because an hour later, I was in their car, and we were going to my forever home! I also met a lady named Becky, who is real cute.

We rode for a bit, and got to my new home. Turns out these humans (jc and Cindy) have two other dogs, so that was cool. One of them, the old Golden Retriever named Moon won't play with me (she gets all growly). Makeeta, the Shiloh Shepherd was sorta stand-offish, but she warmed up to me, and we play all the time now.

That's me, and what happened up to getting to my new home. I'll get jc to take some more dictation about the first couple weeks and bring everything up to date. I wish someone had told me about this 'blogging' thing when I first got home. I gotta lot to say!