Thursday, March 19, 2009

The Auditor

This is old news but I just read about it yesterday (h/t to Smartdogs' Weblog) so I thought I'd pass it along because I just love this dog's story.

Berkeley Pit, now a Superfund site in Butte, Montana is a poisoned waterhole, a remnant of the world's largest open-pit copper mine situated in the midst of a landscape that carries no life. The Pit water is so toxic that in 1995, 342 migrating geese landed in it and died before they could take off again.

Into this toxic environment, in 1986, a puppy was left behind. No one knows why. Maybe it was abandoned; maybe it ran away preferring its own company, sensing a desirable solitude in the barren landscape.

In his younger days, pre-dreadlocks

That pup grew into a lone dog and managed to survive in that hostile environment for 17 years with the help of local miners who brought him food and even eventually built him a dog house.

They named him The Auditor because he would disappear, sometimes for weeks and then reappear, surprising the miners who had thought maybe this time he was gone for good.

By all accounts, The Auditor was a solitary dog. He didn't like to hang out much with people and it seems he only ever allowed a very few to get close enough to him to touch him.

One such person, nearer the end of his life in 2003, was Holly Peterson, a professor at the University of Montana who was interested in getting a sample of The Auditor's hair to test for levels of environmental toxins. With a miner accompanying her, she was brought to the dog house where she managed to coax The Auditor over with a milk bone and she clipped off a length of his dreads which she then sent to a lab for testing.

"The report indicated elevated levels of everything imaginable," Peterson said and she's gone on to use the collected data to develop a method of using pets as a way to evaluate health risks in the environment. You can read more about Peterson's work here.

By then, The Auditor was old and arthritis was visibly affecting him so the miners had started putting baby aspirin in his food. Still, he spent most of his time alone wandering through the waste dumps, leach pads and dirt mine roads around Berkeley Pit.

On November 19, 2003, The Auditor ate his last can of Alpo in his dog house and later that afternoon was found dead in his doggy bed.

The story of The Auditor is fascinating on many levels. His basic survival ability is a big mystery. How did he manage for so long to avoid ingesting anything that didn't immediately kill him, especially when it came to water? With such high levels of metals in his hair, he obviously absorbed his environment somehow, through mere breath or ingesting and yet he lived at least 17 years. What does that say about his physical fortitude? How long would he have lived if he hadn't been exposed to such toxins?

I'm of course, even more interested in his personality. Why was he such a loner? Was that trait innate or due to some traumatic event? He didn't shy away from all humans. Could it be that the right one just never came along to coax him into cohabitation? Was he lonely? How would he have responded to other dogs? What did he do with himself all day?

His solitude and strength have resonated with the miners of Butte. Statues have gone up in his memory; his past has become somewhat of a tourist attraction; his story is spreading around the world. There is something metaphysical about The Auditor which captures people's imagination. His self-isolation is tied in with the isolation intrinsic with such a barren landscape. His resilience is the same as that of the miners living within that place.

There is something more, though. In his daily wanderings, he must've felt it, like all of us alone in the universe, searching for something, not knowing what it is.

You can read more about The Auditor here,
here, here and here.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

HSUS lawsuit against Petland and Hunte Corp

A couple of weeks ago, CBC's Marketplace did a story connecting U.S. puppy mills with dogs sold by P.J.'s Pets in Toronto. One of the puppy brokers that P.J.'s deals with is The Hunte Corporation which the Humane Society of the United States is now pursuing in a class action lawsuit, alleging that Hunte is conspiring to sell unhealthy puppy mill puppies to unsuspecting consumers in numerous states.

Legally, that's probably the best option because unfortunately, in law, you can't sue someone for being a scuzzbag who perpetuates the sickening conditions that puppy mill dogs are forced to endure their entire lives.

HSUS is not only going after Hunte but they are also going after one of the larger pet store chains that sells the Hunte dogs, Petland. P.J.'s may want to pay attention to this.

In the HSUS video below, they trace back the origins of some of the Petland pups to puppy miller, Kathy Bauck of Minnesota who has hundreds of caged breeding dogs producing thousands of pups a year generating an income for her of $500,000 annually. In 2006, the state of Minnesota found that Bauck was performing surgical procedures including Caesarian sections and botched spaying and neutering on dogs without proper anesthesia. Despite charges of animal cruelty and animal torture, Bauck is still legally breeding and selling puppies.

HSUS Investigator: Is she [Bauck] a good breeder?

Petland Employee: She's a good breeder but I just don't like that she has ten dogs down there ... in her kennel.

Wow, how misinformed can a person be?

P.J.'s, you watching this?

3 artists from Ohio

The Dancer



The Tenor



The Thespian


Available for in-home performances soon.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Larf

Going round the internet ...


What happens when dogs get too drunked.

Shy

The little Shih Tzu, Chewy, didn't want to leave his basket so I had to use my secret technique to get him to come forth. It may look like I'm just waving my fingers at him and throwing cookies on the floor but it's actually a specific set of dance steps which took years to perfect.

Okay, so I couldn't tempt Chewy away from his basket. I did, however, manage to eventually get him to trust me enough to let me pick him up and take him out of the kennel. Once outside, he chilled and was totally happy walking on leash.

Chewy will be out and away from here in no time.

Update here.

Monday, March 16, 2009

I am Shih Tzu, hear me roar

You talkin' ta me, punk?
Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Aaaaarrrr ...
... chooo!
Ah, much better!
I hope I did not make you pee your pants too much. Update on Chewy here.

More Shih Tzus at Pound Dogs.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Holes

Rocky's not so bad these days but he used to be all about the holes. It must have been that whenever I left the house, he'd think to himself, "That prick left me alone again. I can't believe it. This time I'm really going to show him," and then he'd get to work chewing out one perfect little hole in the blanket or sheet he was sleeping on. It was never like he tore anything to shreds. No, that would be too much work for Rocky. It would be just one hole, maybe two, and that would be enough to calm his nerves.

When I got back home, I'd find a little circular cut out lying on the floor and then I'd go searching for the newly minted hole.

He'd work through a blanket over the course of a couple of weeks or a month until it was more holes than not and then I'd have to throw it away and bring out a new one.



Luckily, I splurged on Rocky's blankets at Valu Village so each cost me maybe five bucks (that Bambi one may have cost seven) but unfortunately, Rocky went through a phase where it wasn't just blankets.

Here's a cushion that was hand made a few years ago.

Rocky must've thought it needed some updating because he pulled out a little hole in one corner to register his disapproval. Not big enough to throw the cushion out. Just big enough so that when company comes over and sees it, they're like, "Shit, you've got major mouse problems here. We'll come back when you've that sorted. See ya."

He also did it to this one ...

and this one ...

The most ambitious Rocky's ever gotten with his hole making ventures was on the sofa.

This was quite atypical for Rocky because he would have had to stand to create this hole and he's way happier lying down on the job.

Of course, being the self centered human I am, I think all this hole making is directed at me but it may not necessarily be so. Rocky may actually be exhibiting passive aggressive tendencies towards Stella. Our house is quite cold at night and the dogs moan and groan if they're not warm so I made some pajamas for them. Here's Stella modeling hers with some nice detailing work from Rocky.

Rocky's pajamas, on the other hand, appear unair-conditioned.

Rocky's hole making has greatly decreased in the last few months. I'm not sure why that is. Maybe he's come to realize that even though the humans sometimes leave the house without him, they always come back at some point. Or, maybe it's because he's ten years old now and he's just decided that it's time to retire so he can spend less time hole making and more time farting - which is not as visible as hole making but possibly just as bad.