About Us

Dane Wit & Wisdom 

The Journey
When you bring a dog into your life, you begin a journey - a journey that will bring you more love and devotion than you have ever known, yet also test your strength
and courage If you allow, the journey will teach you many things, about life, about yourself, and most of all, about love. You will come away changed forever, for one soul cannot touch another without leaving its mark. Along the way, you will learn much about savoring life's simple pleasures - jumping in leaves, snoozing in the sun, the joys of puddles, and even the satisfaction of a good scratch behind the ears. If you spend much time outside, you will be taught how to truly experience every element, for no rock, leaf, or log will go unexamined, no rustling bush will be overlooked, and even the very air will be inhaled, pondered, and noted as being full of valuable information. Your pace may be slower - except when heading home to the food dish - but you will become a better naturalist, having been taught by an expert in the field. Too many times we hike on automatic pilot, our goal being to complete the trail rather than enjoy the journey. We miss the details - the colorful mushrooms on the rotting log, the honeycomb in the old maple snag, the hawk feather caught on a twig. Once we walk as a dog does, we discover a whole new world. We stop; we browse the landscape, we kick over leaves, peek in tree holes, look up, down, all around. And we learn what any dog knows: that nature has created a marvelously complex world that is full of surprises, that each cycle of the seasons bring ever changing wonders, each day an essence all its own. Even from indoors you will find yourself more attuned to the world around you. You will find yourself watching summer insects collecting on a screen. (How bizarre they are! How many kinds there are!), or noting the flick and flash of fireflies through the dark. You will stop to observe the swirling dance of windblown leaves, or sniff the air after a rain. It does not matter that there is no objective in this; the point is in the doing, in not letting life's most important details slip by. You will find yourself doing silly things that your pet-less friends might not understand: spending thirty minutes in the grocery aisle looking for the dog food brand your canine must have, buying dog birthday treats, or driving around the block an extra time because your dog enjoys the ride. You will roll in the snow, wrestle with chewie toys, bounce little rubber balls till your eyes cross, and even run around the house trailing your bathrobe tie - with a dog in hot pursuit - all in the name of love. Your house will become muddier and hairier. You will wear less dark clothing and buy more lint rollers. You may find dog biscuits in your pocket or purse, and feel the need to explain that an old plastic shopping bag adorns your living room rug because your dog loves the crinkly sound.

You will learn the true measure of love - the steadfast, undying kind that says, "It doesn't matter where we are or what we do, or how life treats us as long as we are together." Respect this always. It is the most precious gift any living soul can give another. You will not find it often among the human race. And you will learn humility. The look in my dog's eyes often made me feel ashamed. Such joy and love at my presence. She saw not some flawed human who could be cross and stubborn, moody or rude, but only her wonderful companion. Or maybe she saw those things and dismissed them as mere human foibles, not worth considering, and so chose to love me anyway. If you pay attention and learn well, when the journey is done, you will be not just a better person, but the person your dog always knew you to be - the one they were proud to call beloved friend. I must caution you that this journey is not without pain. Like all paths of true love, the pain is part of loving.

DOG

When God had made the earth and sky, the flowers and the trees, he then made all the animals, and all the birds and bees. And when his work was finished, not one was quite the same, he said "I'll walk this earth of mine and give each one a name." And so he traveled land and sea, and everywhere he went a little critter followed him until it's strength was spent. When all were named upon the earth, and in the sky and sea, the little critter said " dear lord, there's not one left for me." The father smiled and softly said "I've left you to the end, I've turned my own name back to front, and called you Dog, my friend." 

If a dog was the teacher you would learn stuff like:

1. When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

2. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

3. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

4. When it's in your best interest, practice obedience.

5. Let others know when they've invaded your territory.

6. Take naps.

7. Stretch before rising.

8. Run, romp, and play daily.

9. Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

10. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

11. On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

12. On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

13. When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

14. No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout.     Run right back and make friends.

15. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

16. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.

17. Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not.

18. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

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The Dane Before Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the house, not a creature was stirring
even the Dane on the couch

 The stockings were hung so frickin' high in the air
In hopes our Dane couldn't get them up there 

The neighbors were nestled feeling safe in their beds
While visions of big Danes zoomed in their heads

With gizzards and chicken and bones going SNAP
The Dane hoovered dinner and prepared for a nap.

When out from the crate there arose such a clatter
The Dane had to go out and empty his bladder

Up from the floor he flew like a flash
He tore out the door and peed on the grass

He stood there so tall with a big head and lips
He blocked out the moon like a total eclipse

When what to my wondering eye should appear
But a miniature sleigh and 8 tiny danedeer

With a little old driver so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick

I yelled to the Dane "quick come in Rover"
He ran up the stairs and knocked me right over!

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof

I got off the floor and held tight to my head
I looked to the chimney with a feeling of dread

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot

I had concern for Santa so I put him at sit
St. Nick turned around and said "HOLY SHIT"

The bundle of toys he dropped at his feet,
He said "OMG, what does he eat?"

"That must be a horse or some form of cattle,
let me look in my bag and find you a saddle!"

I explained to Santa he was a Great Dane
A very big dog with a really small brain.

Santa got on his knees and broke a big rule
Before I could stop him, he was covered in drool

"He wouldn't bite, not even a robber"
Santa said okay, but was covered in slobber

Santa laid on the floor all covered in jowl's
I ran to the kitchen to grab him some towels.

Santa said "It's Okay, I am no cleaner,
What a cute Dane, but BOY what a leaner!"

We helped Santa up, with his bag made of silk
while the Dane ate the cookies and knocked over the milk!

He jumped back up, as if preparing to flee
He pulled out the presents to chuck at the tree

A Breeders Letter To Santa:

Dear Santa
 
I've been a good doggy mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my dogs on demand, visited the Vet's office more than my own doctor, spend more on their shampoos and conditioners than I do for myself, and most of the time they are groomed better than I am. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my a black marker pen on the back of a dog food receipt in the laundry room between cycles of dog bedding, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the near future with puppies coming and dog shows on the he horizon.

Here are my Christmas wishes:
 
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to put my struggling dog into the tub for a bath.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere eating dog show food and at least three show outfits and some jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.
 
If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like nose print resistant windows, floors that clean themselves, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to eat my own snacks without having to share with a pack of barking  maniacs. 

On the practical side, I could use a battery operated dog that is always stacked perfectly and moves to perfection on my command to boost my showing confidence, along with at least two bitches who don't bump each other to start a
fight.
 
I could also use a recording of The Dog Whisperer chanting "Don't pee in the living room" and "Get off of her, she is not in heat" because my voice seems to be just out of my dog's hearing range and can only be heard by the next door neighbors who are at least an acre away.
 
If it's too late to find any of these things, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container at a dog show.

If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare a doggy lock down session? It will clear my conscience immensely when I look at those miserable little faces. 

It would be helpful if you could coerce my husband and children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family because after all, this is for MY Dogs!

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and some of my dogs saw my feet under the laundry room door. They think I am eating dinner in here again and they are missing out on leftovers.

Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and look down so that you don't step into an "accident".

I would have left cookies, but between the dogs and the cat, there is no chance that anything other than drool will be left on the plate. I left you a Hot Toddy to warm you from the cold, but after a day like this, I drank it myself.
 
Yours Always,
 Doggy Mom
 
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my "doggy kids" in perfect show coats so that they win at the shows.

Just a dog

Ten Reasons to feel Lucky for Your Dogs

Listed below are a few reasons I feel lucky to have my wonderful dogs.

1. When my day is gloomy, and I am feeling a bit down, nothing cheers me up as quickly as a tail wag and a slobbery "POOCH SMOOCH"

2. On days when my alarm clock just isn't doing the trick pulling me from my slumber, my dogs are more than willing to help keep me on schedule.

3. The greatest most motivating running partners I have are my dogs

4. My dog's antics bring me laughter on a regular basis, laughter lifts spirits, improves health, and burn calories.

5. I can always count on my dogs being happy to see me when I get home from a stressful day.

6. My dogs enjoy my company even if my clothes don't match and my hair isn't brushed.

7. On a cold night snuggling next to my dogs is cheaper, safer, more comforting alternative to a heated blanket.

8. My dogs always show interest in my cooking.

9. I can use my dogs to gauge the danger level of creaks in the night. If the dogs don't respond it must be OK.

10. They bring so much happiness, they're adorable , they're sweet, they love unconditionally.

Why Dog's Don't Live As Long As People:

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old
Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners; Ron, his wife, Lisa,
and their little boy, Shane were all very attached to Belker and they were
hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer.

I told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered
to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

 As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it
would be good for the four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure.
They felt Shane could learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's
family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the
last time,  that I wondered if he understood what was going on.

Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy
seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.

We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud
about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.

Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why.

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next
stunned me - I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

 He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good
life -  like loving everybody and being nice, right?"  The four-year-old
continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't
have to stay as long."

BREED STANDARD FOR EXHIBITORS

CHARACTERISTICS:
A pleasant intelligent person, helpful, considerate, attentive and of a sporting demeanor. Always willing to give advice and assistance to newcomers, or to others needing it. Attentive to the needs of the dogs being handled, and present each dog to its best advantage.

GENERAL APPEARANCE:
A neat, smart, fit looking individual, well-groomed, well shod and well-equipped, who moves freely both in and out of the ring.

TEMPERAMENT:
Calm, confident, unhurried and friendly.

HEAD:
Neither big nor pin headed. Skull broad to allow for plenty of brain power.
Expression pleasant and smiling, regardless of judges' decisions, other exhibitors actions and the dog's behavior. Nose small so as to not be stuck into where it is not wanted.

EYES:
Sharp and bright Observant of other exhibitors location, judges hand signals and the movement and position of all dogs in the ring.

MOUTH:
Usually best kept closed except to briefly answer judges questions or to congratulate successful exhibitors. Teeth clean, white and presented in a smiling fashion at all times.

NECK:
Long enough to hold the head up proudly and flexible enough to turn the head as to observe everything that is happening in the ring. Should never be stuck out.

FOREQUARTERS:
Shoulders broad and able to shrug off unsporting comments from other exhibitors. Arms of sufficient length and strength to extend a handshake to the winners, keep a firm hold on the dog, collect any prize cards, and give a friendly pat to the dog all at the same time.

BODY:
Sufficiently slim as to not impede other exhibitors leaving the ring and to
not completely block the judges view of all the dogs behind.

HINDQUARTERS:
Well developed and strong so as to be able to move the dog in the ring at its optimum speed.

FEET:
Firmly on the ground as this is only a sport after all. To be kept out of the mouth at all times.

GAIT:
Free moving and graceful, moving in harmony with the dogs speed.

COAT:
Dress should be neat, clean and tidy, neither flamboyant nor immodest, but
designed to allow free movement without distraction to any dog in the ring.
Feet should be well shod in practical shoes to allow for easy movement.

COLOR:
Should be chosen to complement the color of the dog, or if several different colored dogs are behind handled, to at least not completely hide the outline of any dog, e.g. wearing a long black skirt when showing a black dog.

SIZE:
Exhibitors may come in all sizes and shapes, the only limitation being ability to do justice to the dog when in the ring.

MAJOR FAULTS:
Dirty or scruffy appearance, grumpy, vicious or flustered temperament; swollen head; loud mouth, especially when used for insulting comments or bad language; unsporting behavior; unkempt dress.

NOTE:
The usual Kennel Club requirement that all males have two apparently normal
testicles fully descended into the scrotum has been dispensed with, in the interests of decorum and to avoid any sudden inspections with attendant violent reactions, while male exhibitors are attending dog shows.

                         Contagious Disease!

"ACOS" aka "Dog Show Disease" is a very contagious in humans, below is the latest alert from Cornell University.

Researchers here at Cornell have identified a new disease, probably caused by a virus among dog-owning people.  It apparently has been in existence for a considerable time, but only recently have researchers identified this disease and begun to study it.  We call it "Acquired Canine Obsessive Syndrome" (ACOS). At first, ACOS was considered to be psychological in nature, but after two young researchers here at Cornell suddenly decided to become show breeders, we realized that we are dealing with an infectious agent. Epidemiologists have identified three stages of this disease and typical symptoms, listed below:

Stage 1 - If you have early symptoms:

• You think that any show within 300 miles in nearby
• You begin to enjoy getting up at 5 AM to walk and feed dogs
• It is fun for you to spend several hours a day grooming dogs
• You think you're being frugal if you spend less that $3,000 a year on shows
• You can't remember what it was like to have just one dog

Stage 2 - If you definitely have the disease:

• Your most important factor when buying a car is how many crates you can fit in it
• When looking for a new home, the first thing you consider is how many dogs you can kennel on the property
• Your dog food bill is higher than your family's grocery bill
• You spend as much on veterinarians as you do on doctors
• You have no money because of showing dogs
• You have to buy more than one vehicle a year, because you keep burning out the 7-year or 70,000 mile warranty going to shows
• You have more pictures of your dogs than of your family
• Your idea of a fun vacation is to hit the show circuit
• Most of your conversations revolve around dogs

Stage 3 - If you have a terminal case:

• You wake up in the morning to find out that you put the kids in the crates and the dogs in the beds last night
• You know each dog's name and pedigree, but can't figure out who that stranger in the house is; it turns out to be your spouse
• Your neighbors keep insisting that those kids running around your house bothering the dogs are yours
• You keep telling the kids to "heel" and can't understand why they won't, and why they keep objecting to the choke chain
• You cash in the kid's college trust fund to campaign the dogs
• You've been on the road showing dogs so long you can't remember where you live
• Your family tells you "It's either the dogs or us;" you choose the dogs

Do you have this dreaded disease? Well, there is hope.  In the course of our research, we have found that most cases seem to stop at Stage 2, and remain chronic.  We have, with great difficulty, managed to acquire several Stage 3 ACOS patients.  They are currently in our isolation wards, where we are studying them to gain a better understanding of this disease.  It is a sad sight, seeing these formerly vibrant people as they shuffle around their rooms in endless triangle or L-patterns, making odd hand motions as if holding a lead and baiting a dog, and making chirping noises.  Merely saying the word " Westminster " can send them into an uncontrollable frenzy.

Unfortunately, there isn't much hope for these cases, but with time and research to further understand this disease; we hope to come up with a cure.  We are now attempting to isolate the causative agent and may be able to develop a vaccine in the future.  An interesting sidelight of this disease seems to be that exposure at an early age has an immunizing effect.  Several people afflicted with ACOS at Stage 1 and Stage 2 have close family members (children/spouses) who have absolutely no disease.  It is thought by some of our researchers that this may be due to environmental effects, to an age-related immune function, or to the fact that those with the disease tend not to associate with their close family members, possibly due to the memory deficit induced by the disease - that is, they don't remember they have close family members!

What can you do to prevent this disease?

Until a cure is found, prevention is the best measure. Avoid kennels advertising "show stock," since it may be the dogs that are the carriers of the disease.  Leave town when there is a local show.  If you inadvertently come into contact with an ACOS-afflicted person, leave as soon as possible (they do tend to cling) and thoroughly shower, preferably with a germicidal soap.  If you are living with an ACOS sufferer, take comfort that if you haven't succumbed yet, you are probably safe.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Average Pet Owner:

Thank you for contacting us animal rescuers, shelter volunteers, and foster-homes about your inability to keep your pet. We receive an extremely high volume of inquiries and requests to accept surrendered animals (and none of us is getting paid, OK?). To help us expedite your problem as quickly as possible, please observe the following guidelines:

1. Do not say that you are "CONSIDERING finding a good home" for your pet, or that you, "feel you MIGHT be forced to," or that you "really THINK it would be better if" you unloaded the poor beast. Ninety-five percent of you have already got your minds stone-cold made up that the animal WILL be out of your life by the weekend at the latest. Say so. If you don't, I'm going to waste a lot of time giving you common-sense, easy solutions for very fixable problems, and you're going to waste a lot of time coming up with fanciful reasons why the solution couldn't possibly work for you. For instance, you say the cat claws the furniture, and I tell you about nail-clipping and scratching posts and aversion training, and then you go into a long harangue about how your husband won't let you put a scratching post in the family room, and your ADHD daughter cries if you use a squirt bottle on the cat, and your congenital thumb abnormalities prevent you from using nail scissors and etc., etc. Just say you're getting rid of the cat.

2. Do not waste time trying to convince me how nice and humane you are. Your coworker recommended that you contact me because I am nice to animals, not because I am nice to people, and I don't like people who "get rid of" their animals. "Get rid of" is my least favorite phrase in any language. I hope someone "gets rid of" YOU someday. I am an animal advocate, not a people therapist. After all, for your ADHD daughter, you can get counselors, special teachers, doctors, social workers, etc. Your pet has only me, and people like me, to turn to in his or her need, and we are unpaid, overworked, stressed-out, and demoralized. So don't tell me this big long story about how, "We love this dog so much, and we even bought him a special bed that cost $50, and it is just KILLING us to part with him, but honestly, our maid is just awash in dog hair every time she cleans, and his breath sometimes just reeks of liver, so you can see how hard we've tried, and how dear he is to us, but we really just can't "You are not nice, and it is not killing you. It is, in all probability, literally killing your dog, but you're going to be just fine once the beast is out of your sight. Don't waste my time trying to make me like you or feel sorry for you in your plight.

3. Do not try to convince me that your pet is exceptional and deserves special treatment. I don't care if you taught him to sit. I don't care if she's a beautiful Persian. I have a waiting list of battered and/or whacked-out animals who need help, and I have no room to foster-house your pet. Do not send me long messages detailing how Fido just l-o-v-e-s blankies and carries his favorite blankie everywhere, and oh, when he gets all excited and happy, he spins around in circles, isn't that cute? He really is darling, so it wouldn't be any trouble at all for us to find him a good home. Listen, we can go down to the pound and count the darling, spinning, blankie-loving beasts on death row by the dozens, any day of the week. And, honey, Fido is a six-year-old Shepherd-Lab mix. I am not lying when I tell you that big, older, mixed-breed, garden-variety dog are almost completely unadoptable, and I don't care if they can whistle Dixie or send semaphore signals with their blankies. What you don't realize is that, though you're trying to lie to me, you're actually telling the truth: Your pet is a special, wonderful, amazing creature. But this mean old world does not care. More importantly, YOU do not care, and I can't fix that problem. All I can do is grieve for all the exceptional animals who live short, brutal, loveless lives and die without anyone ever recognizing that they were indeed very, very special.

4. Finally, just, for God' s sake, for the animal's sake, tell the truth, and the whole truth. Do you think that if you just mumble that your cat is "high-strung," I will say, "Okey-doke! No prob!" and take it into foster care? No, I will start a asking questions and uncover the truth, which is that your cat has not used a litter box in the last six months. Do not tell me that you "can't" crate your dog. I will ask what happens when you try to crate him, and you will either be forced to tell me the symptoms of full blown, severe separation anxiety, or else you will resort to lying some more, wasting more of our time. And, if you succeed in placing your pet in a shelter or foster care, do not tell yourself the biggest lie of all: "Those nice people will take him and find him a good home, and everything will be fine." Those nice people will indeed give the animal every possible chance, but if we discover serious health or behavior problems, if we find that your misguided attempts to train or discipline him have driven him over the edge, we will do what you are too immoral and cowardly to do: We will hold the animal in our arms, telling him truthfully that he is a good dog or cat, telling him truthfully that we are sorry and we love him, while the vet ends his life. How can we be so heartless as to kill your pet, you ask? Do not ever dare to judge us. At least we tried. At least we stuck with him to the end. At least we never abandoned him to strangers, as you certainly did, didn't you? In short, this little old rescuer/foster momma has reached the point where she would prefer you pet owners to tell her stories like this:

"We went to Wal-Mart and picked up a free pet in the parking lot a couple of years ago. Now we don't want it anymore. We're lazier than we thought. We've got no patience either. We're starting to suspect the animal is really smarter than we are, which is giving us self-esteem issues. Clearly, we can't possibly keep it. Plus, it might be getting sick; it's acting kind of funny.

"We would like you to take it in eagerly, enthusiastically, and immediately. We hope you'll realize what a deal you're getting and not ask us for a donation to help defray your costs. After all, this is an (almost) pure-bred animal, and we'll send the leftover food along with it. We get it at Wal-Mart too, and boy, it's a really good deal, price wise.

"We are very irritated that you haven't shown pity on us in our great need and picked the animal up already. We thought you people were supposed to be humane! Come and get it today. No, we couldn't possibly bring it to you; the final episode of "Survivor II" is on tonight."

Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Pet Owner, for your cooperation.