Dogster for the Love of Dog Blog

Photo: The Paw of a Gentle Giant, the Boot of the Handler Who Loved Him

Big dog paw on military boot

(Photo courtesy of Army Sgt. Amanda Ingraham, via SoldierDogs.com)

A dog’s paw, a sergeant’s boot. “He had huge feet, a huge heart,” Army Sgt. Amanda Ingraham told me of her former military working dog, Rex.

I’m posting this photo because Anna Zeman, Dogster’s social media guru, is looking for anything big-dog-oriented for Big Dogs Week on Dogster. And this paw belonged to one big dog — Ingraham’s noble, gentle giant of a German Shepherd.

(Photo courtesy of Amy Sgt. Amanda Ingraham. You can learn Rex’s story in my upcoming book, Soldier Dogs.)

By: Maria Goodavage

Photo: A Military Working Dog and His Marines

A military working dog sits patiently next to his U.S. Marine handler during a memorial service for fallen Explosive Ordnance Disposal members U.S. Airmen Tech Sgt. Matthew S. Schwartz, Senior Airman Bryan R. Bell, and Airman 1st Class Matthew R. Seidler, Jan. 24, 2012, at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan. The airmen were victims of a roadside bomb that exploded after the team had already disarmed two bombs during a mission. The service was attended by the tightly knit community of U.S. Army, Marine Corps and Air Force EOD groups. (Photo by Sgt. Christine Samples)

I love this photo. What a good, loyal, patient dog, like most military working dogs. But such a sad, somber occasion — the loss of three Explosive Ordnance Disposal members.

I found this photo on the excellent Facebook page of Military Working Dogs, and wanted to share it with you.

By: Maria Goodavage

A Letter From a Greyhound to the Star of the Skechers Commercial

Hope, a rescued greyhound, "wrote" the letter below

Dogsters, we have written about the upcoming Skechers commercial, and wondered how you feel about it, since, while it’s very cute, it’s shot at a greyhound racetrack notorious for bad conditions for its dogs. Because of this, we got a peek at a letter that a rescued greyhound from that very same racetrack wrote to Quiggly, the adorable star of the commercial. We’re running it below. If Quiggly writes back, we will post his response as well.

Quiggly at the racetrack

Hello, Mr. Quiggly,

Let’s talk about a place we’ve both been: Tucson Greyhound Park (TGP). You were there filming a Super Bowl commercial for Skechers; I lived there most of my life.

I’m one of those tall, thin dogs — a greyhound — like the ones you “race” against in the commercial. You can call me Hope. It isn’t the name I was known by at the track because, yes, things were bad, and I don’t want them to bring me back there.

I hear that your “race” at Tucson Greyhound Park is supposed to be amusing. I raced more than 130 times at TGP, and I have a hard time finding humor in a single one of them. I just couldn’t do it anymore, the running, pounding, colliding. I had to race when it was over 100 degrees outside, sometimes hotter. But, I was one of the lucky ones. I survived. I didn’t break my leg or shoulder or back like some greyhounds do.

You probably didn’t get a tour while you were there, so let’s clear up one thing: Tucson Greyhound Park isn’t really a park.

I had to live in a “kennel compound” behind the track. Dozens of other dogs were there, too, but we couldn’t get to know each other because we were all in our own small cages. We had to lie down on carpet scraps or shredded paper, and no one ever gave us toys to play with.

A couple times a day, they let me relieve myself inside a small pen — but many times, I just had to soil my cage because they took so long to come.

And the rotten food we were fed smelled funny, but I was so hungry I ate it.

If we met now, you probably wouldn’t think we had very different lives. I found a loving home with other greyhounds and wonderful people who adopted me. We have soft beds, nutritious food, and receive unlimited love and tenderness. Soon I will be 4 years old.

But even though I get the star treatment from my family now, I still have health problems.

At the track, female greyhounds like me are regularly injected with steroids to make sure we don’t go into heat. You see, it is about the money. When females are in heat, we cannot race. If we cannot race, we do not make money for the people who own us or operate the kennel or the track.

This is kind of embarrassing, but the steroids cause genital abnormalities, and I suffer urinary infections and may need surgery.

You and I may both be loved pets now, but this is nothing like the life you’ve had, eh, Quiggles? May I call you Quiggles?

My new mom is one of the many people who supported an ordinance that passed which was supposed to stop those steroid injections, and that stinking rotten food, and ensure that greyhounds at TGP wouldn’t have to spend 20 hours a day in a cage. But that ordinance isn’t being obeyed, so life at those kennels is still miserable for the hundreds of unlucky dogs I left behind. In fact, you weren’t far from them when you stood at the track wearing your little Skechers shoes.

I bet they didn’t tell you any of this when you went to film the Skechers commercial. It was probably all treats and pats and running shoes for you. But, really, Quiggles, there is nothing amusing about greyhound racing.

Now that you know, won’t you help your fellow dogs and ask Skechers not to air the ad?

Sincerely,

Hope

By: Maria Goodavage

We’re Celebrating Big Dog Week on Facebook! Also, My Parents Went to London And Bought Our Dog a Crown

Every Friday, Dogster’s social media gal, Anna Zeman, rounds up the best of the dogcentric Web (outside the awesomeness found right here on Dogster). In case you missed it, check out her first column over here. –Your Friendly Neighborhood Dogster Editors

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Hello, furriends! It’s been called to my attention that I just wasn’t giving big dogs enough love. I assessed the situation, and it’s true: I was favoring the littles when updating Dogster’s Facebook page, mainly smoosh-faced ones, but ANYWAY I’ve realized the error of my ways and thus have dedicated this whole week to big dog love.

Sometimes I think I’m a little dog person and then, after rolling around on the ground with a massive fur-face I realize, nope, I’m a big dog person! There’s so much more to hug and love on! But then I see a tiny little apple dome with huge bug eyes and my head explodes. SO I think I’m just a dog dog person.

This is Sheba, aka Beebee, Shabibi, Cow, Cow Cow, Liver Lips … I could go on, but I don’t want to embarrass her.

Sheba got a crown. I got a box of tea.

She is technically now my parents’ dog since I moved out (although when I come back home she clearly loves me the most, JUST SAYING) and she is spoiled rotten. For example, my parents went to London and brought her this crown, while I got a box of tea. Yeah, whatever, Mom and Dad — she still loves me more. She is actually more of a medium dog, but I wanted to show her off because she is the cutest dog in the world (duh) and I miss her :(

Anyway, here are my favorite big dog links from around the Internetz this week:

+ Rufio is da manz:

Rufio is not just a big dog, he’s a HUGE dog.

Yes, Rufio is a big dog.

And he is furkin’ awesome. Like, the coolest dog evah. No, really, please just go look at him.

+ Big Dogs, Huge Paws:

This is a pawesome rescue that rescues, rehomes, and rehabilitates giant breed dogs who have been mistreated, neglected, abused, and/or abandoned. In other words — they rule!

+Weirdest shit you’ll see all day:

Comedian Margaret Cho and singer Fiona Apple (two of my favorite ladies) got together to sing this song called “Hey Big Dog.” It’s really weird.

Margaret Cho stars in "Hey Big Dog."

SRSLY, watch it with headphones so no one thinks you’re a total freak.

+ Composting da doo:

Okay, so I love big dogs, I really do, but here’s the thing. If a dog’s poop is bigger than mine, I can’t deal. I can’t pick it up. It grosses me out. So for all those giant breed owners out there, good on you (as they say in New Zealand)! Anndddd … you should probably compost that shit (see what I did there?).

+ Big Dog T-shirts:

Do you remember when everyone wore these?

Big Dog shirts are cool.

What happened to this brand? Why isn’t this cool anymore? (Just to clarify, it’s officially NOT cool anymore and we can’t bring it back, so we’ve got to move on).

Anna Zeman is a Social Media Monkey Scientist Strategist at SAY Media (Dogster and Catster’s pawrent company). She is pro-smooshed-faces, pro-kawaii, and anti-animal testing.

By: Dogster HQ

Dog Who Survived Against All Odds Spends His Life Helping Others — and Now He Could Use a Helping Paw for His Web Video Series

Tugg's life is truly an inspiration. He is hoping for funding to star in his own inspirational web series.

Today Dogster brings you the heartwarming rags-to-riches dog story of Tugg, a Bull Terrier who got off to an incredibly horrendous start in life, was rescued and nurtured and loved back from the brink of death by a very caring couple, and who now spends his life helping others, and doing so with a loving smile. His people call it “wuffing it forward,” and they do it in abundance.

Tugg is now hoping to star in his own 15-episode web series. If it gets funding, he will portray a superhero (well, he is a superhero, really), with webisodes focusing on important issues like dog rescue, bullying, discrimination, self-esteem, proper pet care, adoption, and shelter conditions.

It’s a series designed to reach all audiences, from young children, who are most open to these teachable moments, to adults who are looking for something fun and different.

If you like the idea of this, you can actually be a superhero who helps make this happen. Tugg’s people work as animal control officers in Fort Worth, Texas. They’re not made of money. The series will cost about $8,000 to make. They want to make this so badly, but they can’t bear the financial burden.

Do you love that natural eye marking or what?!

So they’ve created a Kickstarter project in hopes of raising the money to support the project. Anyone can donate. Any amount is greatly appreciated, and all of it will go toward the multiple expenses of making a good web series. (If they don’t reach the goal of $8k, the money does not get sent. Let’s hope that does not happen!) And there are incentives as well. Check out the Kickstarter page for Tugg’s project and sniff around for how you can participate. Right now they’re at about $2,700, and they have until Feb. 14 to reach the goal. The clock is ticking.

What follows is a Dogster interview with Blake Ovard, one of Tugg’s folks. It runs pretty long for a web Q&A, because you’ll really get to know this dog and his people, and everything they have done and continue to do for so many dogs and people.

Maria: Congratulations on being partway toward the goal for your web video series! Tugg is a beautiful dog. But I know he didn’t always look this way. Can you tell us a little about his beginnings?

Blake: The sun was setting on a typically hot and muggy evening, just a couple of days after July 4, 2010, in Fort Worth, Texas when the call came in to police dispatch — a badly burned puppy was wrapped in a blanket and staked down beside a busy six-lane road. A single word, “dog,” was scrawled on a small sign attached to the stake that held the blanket and puppy in place.

A police officer was dispatched and the on-call animal control officer was contacted. The police officer arrived first and sat with the poor puppy for almost an hour before the animal control officer could arrive. The police officer said he could not believe what he saw — a small, male bull terrier puppy, about 4 months old, which appeared to have been badly burned. The animal control officer drove the puppy to the animal shelter, where he was given food and water and made as comfortable as possible while waiting to see the shelter vet the next morning.

The puppy was evaluated, and to the relief of many, was found to not have been burned. He had an extremely bad case of demodectic mange and a host of other ailments. His eyes were swollen shut from the infections and scabs and open sores that covered his head and upper body.

Oh, that’s horrible! Poor puppy! What happened next?

The shelter staff put out calls to local rescue groups and tried to make sure the small Bull Terrier had what he needed. Everyone waited, hoping a rescue would come in and treat this puppy who, even though he couldn’t see, would inch his way to the front of the cage whenever he heard human voices close by.

Tugg shortly after his rescue. Life was touch and go.

A couple of days went by, and a few of the rescues expressed an interest, but said they were full and couldn’t spare the room. Another said the procedures to treat the diseases and ailments would cost too much money. A few days turned into a week, and the shelter staff did the best they could for the pup.

My wife, Kim, and I are both animal control officers. We watched this small, frail puppy and hoped a rescue would come forward to help him — but none did. So, we decided that if the weekend came — well past the 72 hours hold at the shelter — and still no rescue would help, we would take this magical puppy home and care for him ourselves. He was slated for euthanasia on Monday.

During the week, a few of the officers and the vet tech at the shelter had tried to softly wash the areas around the pup’s eyes so that he could open them. By Sunday, he could open them a tiny amount. In that tiny sliver, we could see the spark within — the spark that said this dog wanted to live.

No one came forward by Sunday, so Kim scheduled an appointment at an emergency vet, and took the 4-month-old puppy to see what he needed. We did not expect what the vet told us. After the exam, the vet said she had some bad news — she felt this puppy was too far gone and should probably be put down so that he wouldn’t suffer any more.

Many people would have listened to her. Thank goodness you didn’t.

Yes, Kim called me crying, and said we can’t do that. I agreed. We didn’t know how we would pay for the medical expenses, but this puppy deserved a chance.

We called and set an appointment for as early as possible the next day at our normal vet. We carried in the weakened pup, and waited with bated breath while our vet did the examination. As he finished the exam our vet smiled, which is his normal demeanor, and told us that he thought the dog had a chance — maybe not much of one, but he had one. That was all we needed to hear. He said the fight would not be short, and it would not be easy. It would take a lot of time, medication, love, good nutrition, and money, but it could be done.

With a great attitude and constant care, Tugg started to recover.

There was no question what we would do. This little one showed the will to live and showed that he would fight for it. We would give him a chance. Before we even got home, we knew he would not be like any of our other dogs — we also own show Briards, a Sheltie, and a Border Collie — or any of our foster dogs. We knew he was coming home to stay. On the way home, we named him — Tugg, because he tugged at our heart strings.

The first few days were touch and go. He ate, drank, and went out to do his business. And any time not spent doing that, he slept. Each morning we would wake up and hope he was still alive, and each afternoon when we got home we had the same hope. Every day he got better, and it wasn’t long until he was showing his true personality.

And does he have a personality! Everyone loves this miracle dog. How did he come to get a Facebook page? And how many Facebook friends/fans/followers does he have now? How did he get such a following?

Tugg now has around 11,000 fans from around the globe, and that number increases daily as new fans discover the magic of this little bull terrier — which is something we never expected.

In addition to bringing Tugg home when we did, I was also in the middle of training two dogs for the Extreme Mutt Makeover — an event only 15 dog trainers are invited to participate in each year, and I was the only trainer who had two. The trainer gets eight weeks with a shelter dog — in my case, two shelter dogs — and at the end of the training time, each dog competes to show what they have learned. The public gets then gets the chance to adopt the dogs. Each of the dogs I was training had their own Facebook pages as part of the program.

Since we were posting daily updates on the makeover dogs, Kim suggested I make a page for Tugg as well. Many of our friends and family asked, almost daily, how Tugg was doing, and a page of his own would tell everyone at once.

That’s when Tugg got his own Facebook page.

What a handsome superhero, and how much he overcame...

There were only a dozen or so of our friends following Tugg’s progress on his page the first days. His daily pupdates included a little about how he was doing with his treatments and a little about what he had gotten into that day, if anything. Each day was a new day for Tugg, and he saw the world through his newly opened eyes in a way that was full of wonder and amazement.

Like a child wrapped in a dog suit, he also discovered that while he was getting better in the real world, in Tugg’s world, he was also a superhero. Sometimes his adventures even take on a look like being in a comic book.

Within a week, the number of followers had climbed to 100. By two weeks the number had almost doubled, and by a month Tugg’s page had almost 1,000 followers from all over the world.

What other places?

From South Africa to Israel, to Thailand to Europe and Australia, his fans log in daily to see how Tugg is doing and see what Tugg is doing. It doesn’t matter that they are in other time zones or half a world away.

Read the rest of this entry »

By: Maria Goodavage