The Red Dog Inn

It’s Memorial Day! The flag is flying high above the Red Dog Inn today to honor and express our gratitude to those who served and sacrificed to preserve freedom.

When a veteran retires from the US Armed services, they have options on where they can live. But when that veteran is an animal, it needs our help.  Did you know that you can adopt a hero? YOU CAN! I’ve put the link to the page here. 

There is a hierarchy on who gets dibs — Local Law Enforcement, then former handlers, then the public.  The Military Working Dog Foundation is a 501(c) 3 organization, which means you may be able to support them with donations. http://www.militaryworkingdogs.com/donate.shtml 

Help an animal that served those who serve!

“The Military Working Dog Foundation was established to provide a resource of information to law enforcement agencies who have a requirement to obtain working dogs, as well as for the public who wish to adopt dogs that become available from the military and need a home.”

Military Working Dog Bruno in Germany

http://www.militaryworkingdogs.com

CLICK HERE TO DONATE TO THIS CAUSE

I’m thrilled to hear that the United States Dressage Federation is recommending that all riders wear protective helmets when aboard a horse.  I hope to see the folks riding in tonight’s musical freestyle choosing a helmet over their top hats that they’ve earned through all their dedication and hard work.   

Fit matters! Learn how to properly fit a helmet here: http://bit.ly/dvm3K1 or http://bit.ly/bj6esw 

GET A HELMET! I like Troxels:  www.troxel.com

Source: http://www.usdf.org/press/news/view-news.asp?news=376

Summer vacation is right around the corner, and I’ll bet some of you will be taking some riding lessons.  As with anything there are good and bad instructors out there, so how do you find a good one, worthy of earning your hard earned money?

Here’s my advice: Start your search with one of the accreditation groups! That way you can be assured that the person you’re paying to learn from has met some sort of standardized criteria to teach and knows the precautions that need to be taken to be safe around a horse.  Unfortunately, too many riders declare themselves qualified to teach riding and train horses when they really shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a teaching or training situation.  Protect yourself with information!  

There are a number of groups that certify riding instructors, but the one I’m most familiar with is Certified Horsemanship Association (CHA). There are no free passes in CHA. All the folks who are listed as certified trainers have taken the classes and are ranked according to their skill set. ALL OF THEM!

I wish I would have known about this long ago. I could have saved thousands of dollars wasted with unqualified charlatans and folks who rest on their achievements from 20 years ago. 

Repeat after me:

• Just because someone owns a horse doesn’t make them an expert. It makes them someone who owns a horse. 
• Just because someone calls themselves a trainer, doesn’t mean they are qualified to be one. Do your homework. If you want to show, GO to shows. Watch the trainers interact with their students, horses, others. Ask for references. Call and verify them. Ask them for their certification.

Here’s a dirty little secret. ANYONE can call themselves a trainer in the United States. (Please don’t run out and declare yourself a trainer.) Not all trainers, even the big celebrity trainers, are certified. Why? I don’t know. Pride? Concern they won’t be ranked as a “MASTER” trainer?  Concern that they may learn something new? Frankly, I wish more trainers would step up and get certified,  if not to improve their skills then to weed out the trainers who shouldn’t be doing this in the first place.

PLACES TO START YOUR SEARCH FOR A CERTIFIED, QUALIFIED INSTRUCTOR:

• CERTIFIED HORSEMANSHIP ASSOCIATION
• AMERICAN RIDING INSTRUCTORS ASSOCIATION

NOTE: I’m not a horse trainer. I’m not certified by either of these associations. I do know people who are accredited by these organizations and would gladly put my horse or myself in training with them.

Did I mention that I ride horses? Well, at one time I was riding up to four horses per day. I’d work them in arenas and on trail to decompress.  However, about 13 months ago, I took a nasty fall.  Because I’m built like a Weeble (bottom heavy) I found my bottom!  I was also wearing my Troxel helmet. I can’t stress how important it is to wear a helmet regardless of how bombproof  you think your horse is.

I’d been thrown before, but this fall shook my confidence.  After 6 weeks of physical therapy, the bruise, which extended from my hip to mid thigh, and wrapped from my navel to my spine, faded; but the stinging remained.  I took a break. Too long of a break.

I spoke with my pals who ride: Christy, Julie, Emily, Courtney, Liz. They all encouraged me. Julie offered excellent advice: Find a horse you trust and take it slowly.

Even before the fall, I had some issues mounting. I’d been taken off with before ,and I think that’s stuck. Think about it. You’re in this vulnerable position, hovering in mid-air about to make contact with the back of a living, breathing creature with its own instinctive mind that outweighs you a few times over .  Right after you mount it takes a second or two to “find your seat”, that sweet spot where riders feel secure and balanced.

I enlisted Sizzle. Sizzle is a firey 14.2 h Morgan horse who just celebrated his 28th birthday in March.  Don’t let his age fool you; he’s still got game and wants me to tell you that OLD GUYS RULE!!!!

I knew I wanted to comeback in an arena, the most controlled situation in my opinion. It seemed that every date we set for a comeback was thwarted by rain.  For those of you unfamiliar, riding arenas are usually sealed to protect the footing. You have to let them dry out before riding in them or you mess up the footing, and good footing is mission critical! 

Well, two weekends ago Sizzle and I announced our comeback!  I tacked him up using my friend’s dressage saddle and bridle. It was nice to use an appropriately-sized saddle. Sizzle can be a handful at the mounting block as the excitement of carrying a rider and the promise of showing off becomes a reality, but that day he stood patiently. I was hopping on and off the mounting block to get the most comfortable position. When I’d done that, I stood on the top step and started feeling a little woozy. I was about to put myself in that vulnerable position. Sizzle stood.  I took a deep breath and swung my leg over Sizzle’s back. 

We walked around the arena for 15 minutes. Sizzle had much more confidence in my abilities than I had.  He jigged a few steps and even shied at a sound from the neighbor’s yard  toward the end of my ride.  TWERP!  The next weekend, he was also patient and well-mannered.

Was it worth it? You bet!

Will I ride again? Yes! 

Did Sizzle get a pound of carrots for his efforts? YES! 

I’m grateful that our animals are patient, wonderful and forgiving teachers!

In an effort to achieve my ideal weight, I started working with a Pilates tape.  Typically, at some point in my workout, one of the dogs will realize I’ve joined them on the floor and “assist”.  For instance,  Butters believes the appropriate way to execute “the Hundred” is to pat him in the process. After all,  he gets 100 pats if he positions himself just right!

Recently, I realized Lula had joined me on the floor for The Hundred. I knew she was there, I just couldn’t see what she was doing. When I looked over, I started laughing — hard.  There she was, on her back, pumping her little legs in the air as if to mimic me performing “The Hundred!”

Laughter delivers an excellent Ab workout!

It’s Springtime, and for some of us that means getting into the garden. Pet owners should take extra caution when choosing plants for their garden because some plants are toxic to dogs, cats and horses.  The ASPCA has a list of plants to avoid if you have pets.  Check it out before you head over to the home center or nursery.

http://www.aspca.org/pet-care/poison-control/plants/

God is gracious. He sends people and critters into our lives for reasons that are mysteries to us when they happen, but as we look back we understand why He sent who He sent.

Butters came along after Gracie passed away; Lula came along just as Finley was preparing to join Gracie and Woody.

In 1987, my Nanny (grandmother) passed away on December 23 — fifteen minutes before Christmas Eve.  She’d lived with us for 15 years. She was a great friend, feisty competitor — ask anyone who dared to play a game of Scrabble with her — and tough as nails.   She was born in September 1912. My younger brother never failed to remind her that she was born only five months after the Titanic sank. During World War II, she worked at US Steel in Chicago.  I believe she was a supervisor.  We always said that had she been born in a different time, she would have earned her PhD. She was that smart.   But I digress…

After Nanny passed away, I was rudderless. She was our pal. She was always there when we returned from school. And then God sent Evelyn into my life.

Evelyn is feisty. One July 4th, our congressman wanted a man he called and “Afghani Freedom Fighter” to ride with us in a local parade. She stood toe-to-toe with this guy poking him in the chest saying,”He’s not getting on this float. He’s not making my  kids a target. He can ride with you!”  Years later, and lots of research later, a friend of mine discovered that our Evelyn was not too far from the truth.  The man she denied access to was apparently a card- carrying member of Al Queda.

About 7 years ago, we celebrated her 80th birthday — on St. Patrick’s Day. Didn’t know that she’d been adopted. But it explained a lot. She has a BIG heart and a BIG smile.  She had met a lot of people over 80 years, so when her daughters asked us each to supply a page for a scrapbook, they were overwhelmed by the response.  Congressmen, Senators, elected officials of all sorts, golf friends and a gaggle of “youngsters” (We were in our mid-30’s at this point)  all provided pages. 

Oddly, my friend and I recalled the parade where she stood down Al Queda. Chris heard the whole exchange. My recollection was much different.

Evelyn was snapping photos, and I assumed it was of the float we designed together. I was wrong!  She said, “Suzi, look on the balcony.”  So  I looked. There were 5 smokin’ hot men  — one in nothing but his BVD’s — on the balcony watching the pre-parade festivities, and there was Evelyn recording the view for posterity!  I do admit, she has excellent taste in men. I expected nothing less.

Blissfully, Evelyn is still with us. Still getting along in her late 80’s. We love her. We love that she was so willing to play the role of grandma for us after losing ours. She is a treasure, and we’re so happy to have claimed her.  

BTW… Evelyn had a rescued schnauzer named CB, short for Code Blue. CB had coded as a puppy and was recussitated. Yep, another pet person!

On the way to work this week, I saw something that made me sick — a dog that had been thrown from the bed of pick up.  I dutifully called Animal Control and was informed by two people that I’d have to talk with someone else.  By the time I talked to the someone else, I was feeling pretty darn miffed!  THERE SHOULD BE A LAW ABOUT THIS!

Well, where I live, there is: CALIFORNIA VEHICLE CODE 23117.  (a) No person driving a motor vehicle shall transport any animal in the back of the vehicle in a space intended for any load on the vehicle on a highway unless the space is enclosed or has side and tail racks to a height of at least 46 inches extending vertically from the floor, the vehicle has installed means of preventing the animal from being discharged, or the animal is cross tethered to the vehicle, or is protected by a secured container or cage, in a manner which will prevent the animal from being thrown, falling, or jumping from the vehicle.    http://www.dmv.ca.gov/pubs/vctop/d11/vc23117.htm

I’ve called the paper and asked them to publicize this code — as well as encouraging people to not take their dogs if they have to be left in the car. As of January 1, 2007, it’s illegal to leave your pet in a car unattended on a hot day in the Golden State.

When I think about where I got this role of protector, I think of my mom.   When did she start instilling in me how the initiative system works?  When I was 5-years-old.  When I was 5, the board of education wanted to bus kids away from their home districts. Mom had lived in Chicago and worked in a hospital. One day, my older brother came by to visit, which was odd because it was a school day.  His school was taking part in an assimilation experiment and one of the kids pulled a knife on the bus. Well, that was it.  Not only did the Chicago program come to a grinding halt, but that’s when my mom decided none of her kids would be subjected to this again.

So there I sat, at the kitchen table as a 5-year-old stuffing and sealing envelopes to convince other California voters to not allow this intiative to pass.

Thanks to those days around the kitchen table, I’ve developed a healthy appreciation for the political process. I was able to meet a President of the United States, a few representatives, two governors of California, work for a County Supervisor and meet more than my fair share of movers and shakers –each who was a force in her own right.

I think it’s ironic that virtually everyone of the people I mentioned above was an animal person.

So Mom, thanks for being a Protector and for all the opportunities.

When I was asked to blog about motherhood, I was a little apprehensive.  I’m not a mom in the traditional sense. My kids are the four-legged kind.  My mom used to say, ”She’s got a sixth sense with animals.”   But where did I get this “gene”?  Well, I’ve been thinking and thinking, and I think that it’s genetic. 

My mom was a sucker for a stray. That’s how I got Cyndi, my first dog.  Sure, I loved Sugar, a sweet black and white Cockapoo, but Cyndi, a small toy black poodle, was mine.  Mom confiscated this little pup from a woman who was going to “turn her loose in the park”.    Well, Cyndi lived with us for 18 years. She passed away in my arms on February 13.  Valentine’s Day was never really the same afterwards.

But Mom had always wanted dogs. When the time was ripe, she got a dog. A basset hound named Muggs.  Then the parade started… Sugar, then Cyndi, then fish… lots of fish, then a bird, then another basset named Fred, then birds… LOTS of birds, the birds had babies,  so there were even more birds… then Woody the bichon mix, then Gracie, the stray shepherd mix and Finley, the original Big Red Dog. 

My grandmother never really was too into the dogs, but alwasy brought a doggie bag home from Sunday brunch. She was a big softie.  She’d sit in the yard and feed bits of chicken and steak to Fred and Cyndi. 

My great aunt, even in her spiral into dementia, loves having her dog nearby. She brightens when Butters nuzzles her ankle. Butters is a bit of a charmer. She’s always had pets.

My cousins raised miniature horses. Cousin Joanie says we horse folks have “THE DISEASE.”

There are stories that my great grandmother was an equestrian in Poland. She’d ride to events as a young girl. 

So there you have it… how I got “the gene!”  Thanks, Mom!   If you have “the gene” welcome! It’s a great affliction to have.