Recently, I ventured to Cuba, where I met some friendly local dogs. There are a few interesting things about dogs in Cuba.  I noticed that they aren't fixed, which obviously lends itself to over population. Despite the lack of attention to spay/neutering for the most part dogs are actually well cared for, even if homeless. This is likely because I was in a tourist hub. Something tells me that there is far more to the stray dog story than meets the eye.

Despite being aware of how many there were, I noticed how friendly locals were with dogs who came wondering over for a brief pet and visit, and of course for some food. 

Here's an example of a Cuban stray, enjoying his camera ready moment:

Another example of a more elusive stray, a chocolate Heinz 57 mutt, had little time for people, but a lot of time for scavenging.

In Havana, if you own a dog, you physically tag it with a laminated card filled out with the name and address of its owner. Below is a photo with a dog's id card, slightly out of view, as he snoozes on the steps of a bank.

I wish I had more time to capture photos, but with only 30 minutes of roaming time, there was just too much for the camera to take in!

I do however, have a lot of animal photos from last summer's trip to Turkey.  Post to come soon!

After a long winter, the snow is starting to melt, and the sights and smells of spring walks are emerging....complete with rabbit holes, aka the motherload of scents!   

Do wascally wabbits live in your neighbourhood? (Ok, so they're more cute than they are wascally in most cases)  If so, here are some neat Rabit Tidbits

Rabbits are indigenous or over time have been introduced to most regions of the world. Rabbits are not rodents; they are small mammals. There are seven genera of rabbits which include numerous species. Here are some interesting facts about rabbits:

1. The male rabbit is called a buck and the female is called a doe.

2. Baby rabbits are called kittens.

3. Wild rabbits generally weigh between 2-3 pounds and are approximately 16 inches long.

4. Rabbits raised for meat can weigh between 8-12 pounds.

5. Rabbits inhabit every continent with the exception of Antarctica.

6. In the United States there are 12 species of rabbits and the eastern cottontail is the most common.

7. Wild rabbits are usually found in brushy regions on the edges of woods. Rabbits also live in marshes, grasslands, swamps and deserts.

8. Rabbits have exceptional senses.

9. Rabbits are herbivores and eat leafy plants in the spring and summer months and wood bark in the winter.

10. Rabbits live in areas below 2000 feet of sea level.

11. A wild rabbit has a lifespan of about a year while house rabbits can live between 8-12 years.

12. A wild doe starts to mate at 6 months, the gestation period is 30 days and each litter has 4-12 kittens.

13. The mating season for wild rabbits lasts 9 months and in that period a doe can have hundreds children and grandchildren.

14. Wild does burrow shallow nests and return at dusk and dawn. Although the mothers are not present the babies are probably not abandoned.

15. Baby rabbits are fed by their mothers twice a day at dusk and dawn.

16. Bunnies explore outside their nests as early as 10 days old.

17. Bunnies that have their ears up and eyes open do not need help.

18. Wild rabbits have a number of natural predators including dogs, raccoons, foxes, hawks and eagles.

19. Wild rabbits have powerful hind legs which helps them burrowing. A rabbit can run up to 35 miles per hour.

20. China raises more rabbits for food than any other country.

21. The United States primarily raises rabbits for pets and medical research.

22. Rabbits can pass tularemia or "rabbits fever" on to humans. Use caution and wear gloves when handling sick or dead wild rabbits.

23. Rabbits live in groups and when they are eating one stands guard; if danger is sensed the guard will stamp his feet and the rabbits will hide in their burrows.

http://fohn.net/rabbit-pictures-facts/

Dog owners check out other dogs, we can't help it.  If there is a dog in a five kilometre radius, my dog radar will have likely spotted it. I "check out" dogs all the time, walking by, in the car, on the bus, playing in the park. I get especially excited when I see dogs like look like Loki because he is such a mystery. I often wonder if he has any siblings out there.  I have creepily crossed the street and walked behind a Loki-like only to find out that the owners were incredibly friendly and that in fact the dog was half doberman half husky and about the same age,  in my neighbourhood...extra Cool!

I often scour google images with the search terms "doberman husky" to see if any new photos come up with his similar look. You better believe I've seen most of what's out there.  I'm a tad obsessed with checking out similar looking mixes to compare them to my doberdog. I'm fascinated. Once again, it's all about his mysterious past. The sanctuary told us he is Doberman Husky, and I've always just gone by what they said.....

But then, last night.....the Loki Doberdog world as I know it changed......furever...

While enjoying Loki's favourite social media feed, The Twitters, I came across a fun new fur-follower Kelly Dog @KaiVnm with a very doppleganger-esque photo. It was uncanny! So then I dug a little deeper and looked at some her adorable doggerpics....and then black n' tan with big eared worlds collided.... but this was no doberman-husky she's an AUSTRALIAN KELPIE!!

This is Kelly Dog (who you should all follow on twitter):

And then because I've never seen such a match before I HAD to Google the Australian Kelpie. This is what I found:

I was so shocked, I had to check out breed statistics to see how close Doberdog could be to a Kelpiedog.

Breed Description:  Slightly longer than he is tall, the Kelpie has a broad chest and firm hindquarters that contribute to his flexible, energized appearance. The head is long and narrow. The medium length tail is low set. The short, compact feet have well arched toes. The double coat consists of a short and dense undercoat and a hard, straight and weather-repellent outer coat (Loki has this!)

Breed Characteristics: their easy trainability and keenness on the job make them a fundamental component of the workforce. They are ready to respond immediately to any signal given by their masters, even from a great distance. (hmmm not quite Loki.....he's a flight risk.....)

Size: Height: 17 - 20 inches (43 - 51 cm)
Weight: 25 - 45 pounds (11 - 20 kg)  (well...this isn't Loki....he's 83lbs......)

In conclusion,  I will continue to obsess over the Australian Kelpie, Loki's mini-me from down-under. 

What do you think of the doppleganger effect?!

Happy Monday!

I hope your St. Patrick's Days were celebrated with flying green colours!

An excellent thing to report:   my internet service provider has fixed my connection with a quick change of modem frequency..... hurray for no longer having to compete with neighbouring wifi connections. I look forward to getting back into the swing of Doberblogging!

We haven't had much mischief to report because Doberdad and I are being extra preventative with garbage raids. Garbage goes out with us, every morning, nothing for Loki to explore except his own bin of toys, balls, bones and ropes.

We are just raring for spring to return. In a perfect world, April wouldn't have that rotting leaves and melting dog poop mud smell, but even that wouldn't be so bad at this point. (We are expecting 20cms of snow tonight......Nudge, nudge, hello? Spring?? Are you out there?? )

Subject change, with no segway!....

Recently,  it came to my attention that Loki's eyes are like an anime character. And then that got me thinking about how expressive he is.  In his animated huskyish moments,  I imagine him being in an outlandish Japanese television commercial (remember Mr. Sparkle?!) , with lots of colour, noise, and extremely unbridled incoherent excitement.  If Loki were to represent a product in Japan he'd likely be the poster dog for Tennis Balls.

And finally, the above video....is....well.......I'll let you make your conclusions......try not to let is seep into your subconscious and reappear in your dreams tonight.....eeeep...

Do you have any hilarious anime-esque photos of your puppers?

Welllll herrrro!   Tis I, yours truly, sniffy-face Loki Doberdog. I took over the blog today because I feel it is vital to teach any of you Paw folk how to complete a proper garbage raid, one much like I accomplished today.  There are several steps to follow, so I will try my bestest to explain them in terms only you will understand.  DO NOT, repeat, DO NOT share these tips with your human people. I'd hate for our strategy to be used against us. And remember, guilty-face is your best friend.

Step 1:  Wait for them to leave for Work or extended errands or any reason really.
This will be difficult to test, as you may not be able to anticipate when they will return, pay close attention to whether or not they are doing a weekday morning routine or a weekend routine. Proper garbage raids should only take place when the chances of accidental interruption are slim. Use your canine sixth sense, and let the scavenger inside guide you......

Step 2:  Survey All Surroundings for Opportunity
As your human ppl are leaving, immediately pretend to go back to your favourite nap area, this will make them think as they're closing the door behind them, that you're being a good little snoozey, patient doggie. Take a nap but not too long, only a few intermittent bunny-chasing dreams. Wake up. Do your yoga-dog stretches and begin your hunt.  Start with the kitchen. ALWAYS. This is a  gold mine for forgotten forks, counter treasure, or slightly ajar cupboards that hold the motherload: Garbage Bins. Another good place for bin-tipping is the bathroom or bedroom (tissues and kleenex! HELLOOO gawwgeous shreds)

Step 3: SNIFF. TIP. RAID!
OK so this is the best part of your day, you've napped, but you're still bored and have a hankering. You've surveyed your surroundings for forgotten treasure, and you find your own personal raid mission. I suggest sticking your nose in the bin first, alllllll the way to the bottom, to make sure it's worth it. (HINT: It's NEVER not worth it) Using your adorable muzzle, delicately (or ravenously, your choice) tip the bin over by pulling it towards you. Stick your head in and begin scattering everything. The larger the spread of garbage on the floor the better. (This comes in to play later....)  But wait..the Garbage bag is tied? No problem, you've got claws, you've got beautiful canines, use them. Shred any packaging that has even the littlest scent of deliciousness. Try not to eat packaging, but if you must, you must, I don't blame you. Spend as long as you like mulling over all the glorious destruction you've created. After all, it's their fault your anxious or bored right? You're only a dog.....

Step 4:  Prepare for the Arrival
At this point, you're tired from rifling through your big haul. Likely full too, depending on what you've eaten. I suggest returning to your sleepy-nappy-happy-place for a snooze. All there is to do is wait...wait...for your human people (ahem, who left YOU in the first place) to return. You'll hear the keys, and you'll start to wag. The door will open, Now, what happens next is really variant on what kind of destruction you've created. Usually, people humans let out what sounds like angry words, that's standard. You'll probably hear your name said in a downward sounding tone, usually split slowly into the syllables of your name. For example a quick Loki becomes Loooooow-keyyyy!!. The deeper the voice, the more guilty-puppy-face you should display. This is your golden ticket out of the "doghouse": Keep your tail low, your ears down, better yet, go back to your bed, and make your self into the size of a donut, curling up is encouraged, showing signs of confused remorse is your bestfriend.

Step 5:  Relish the Aftermath & Don't Forget to Fart
This is the fun part. You get to watch your human people pick up all the delicious, immaculate mess you've made while you don't lift a paw. Piece by piece, they will put it all back into a new garbage bag, probably staring begrudgingly at you because you disappointed them. You'll probably have some gas, so use this to your advantage.... stay close to them, so they can be haunted by the smell of your accomplishment. This also reminds them of the sadness you felt when they left you, bored, adventurous, and all alone with no one to keep you company except the empty meat packages and mouldy corn cobs.

Ok Paw friends, show me your destruction!

And Happy Mischief Monday!!!!!

They say cats find you. You don't find them.  I couldn't agree more.  And so the story of Iggy Stardust begins.

Back in University I had spent an evening at the campus library toiling away (err...procrastinating...) on a Shakespearean essay. The library closed at midnight so I reluctantly packed up and headed back home at 12:01am. It was a lovely April evening, the air smelled like rotten mud and decaying leaves but when you've had such bitterly cold temperatures it's the welcome scent of Spring, thus Optimism. 

Nobody was around, except for this little mew mew mew of a hidden kitty cat, somewhere amongst the bushes. Now my campus was small, and there weren't any pets allowed on campus, so off the get-go I realized this was likely a lost kitty. Sure enough I see some rustling in the shrubs and I catch a glimpse of a medium-haired white and orange tabby. Very shy. 

45 minutes later, after jingling my keys, making kissy noises, shaking a plastic sandwich bag of ironic gold fish crackers, talking in a cat mom shrill baby "come heeeeere, come heeeeere" voice, out walks the lil muddied skinny character.  Still nervous of me but somehow I manage to pick him up. He doesn't fight the arm-held squeezes. I feel his body relax. I walk him home in my arms.  I'd never had a cat before, so I did what seemed instinctual,  I set him up with some water, which he drank right away. I also tried to give him some food but he was a tad reluctant. That's fair.  It was student tuna and not good for him any way. Now this was a Saturday night and the Humane Society didn't open until  Monday. Obviously, I knew I'd be having a lil house guest for the next 48hrs so I made him a nice bed, on my bed.  He turned out to be quite friendly, and had obviously at one time had a home, but he was really really skinny, like hip-bones a little exposed skinny, but still lovely, just straggly. 

Over the next 48hrs i connected with this lil character, who I'd named "Puck" (hence the Shakespearean essay) something about him was just so endearing, and we bonded (naming him was likely my first mistake). My plan was to call home and tell my parents I'd be coming home with a cat at the end of the school year. Parents were reluctant, but you could tell in my mums voice that traveling home with a four legged friend was now an inevitability.  I'd caught Cat Fever (though i still maintain through no fault of my own) 

I took him to the Humane Society and told them that if nobody claimed him, I'd like to adopt him and pay them for all the vet fees etc.  They said they'd call me in three days if nobody had claimed him. Turns out he was probably a year old and had been on his own for quite some time.  I anxiously awaited the phone call telling me I could go pick up the little dude. 

I get the call after only 24hrs. But it's not the call I wanted.   The Humane Society vet tells me "Puck" is jaundiced, and in severe liver failure. They could try to medicate, but they couldn't guarantee quality of life. They said it's best to euthanize. The four worst words to hear.  The vet said that often cats who are in dire straights will seek out humans they trust, and at least he had spent his remaining days in a warm place in a warm bed and that was a gift all its own.  I thanked them and graciously hung up the phone with a chocked-up-quivering soon-to-be-shattered voice. I immediately started to cry.  What a footprint he had left in my life. After only a weekend. At least I got to say good bye. At least he spent his last few nights pawing at my pen purring while I wrote my essay and not alone in the campus woods. 

What followed was a gaping cat-shaped hole in my life. I then spent the rest of the summer researching, going to the library, thinking about all things feline.

Later that summer, I get an email.

It's a tail and old as time. University, someone discovers an abandoned cat  wandering the apartment hallways. Friends take Hallway Cat in, Hallway Cat meets Resident male cat. After a week, Resident male cat goes in for routine dental clean, and passes away from bizarre complications. Soon after, friends discover Hallway Cat is pregnant.  Resident Male Cat leaves a legacy. 

So now I knew that there was a cat waiting for me when I got back for my last year of school. They sent me pictures of the litter, and said I'd be able to have first pick.  They were born in late July, and I'd gotten to know them over a few months. Finally, it was time to take my kitteh home at Thanksgiving, a ginger girl, the only female of the litter who I named Iggy Stardust (Iggy for Iginla, and Stardust for obvious David Bowie inspired reasons)

Iggy would spend the next three years traveling with me, going back and forth on flights to Calgary, driving across the country, living in different apartments, being adorable. We went to visit my mum over Christmas three years ago, my mum, having said good bye to our elderly family dog at Thanksgiving, welcomed having a four legged friend around.  Mum and Iggy immediately bonded more than usual, and so I said she could hang out there for another week. Well, another week turned into another week, turned into my mum getting Iggy a new adorable pink collar, and personalized tag, turned into another week.  So Iggy's now a permanent resident my mums place, it just sort of happened naturally. She'd never had a cat before but Iggy is her constant companion and great therapy. I see her all the time, and it's funny because it's like she knows who I am. "Oh!! It's you! Hello. How are you? I'm having a great time here, check out my cat house, check out my shaky mice!"  I've never felt sad about the natural adoption thats taken place because she's still in the family and she has daily if not hourly mew mew conversations with my mum who is always baking. I can hear her on the phone.

A few months later, I'd meet Doberdad who is ironically incredibly allergic to cats, so it's all worked out.

I love cats, they are amazing to observe and interact with. They each have such a distinct personality, and seem to do everything on purpose. If and when they do something that they didnt mean to, rather than look embarrassed for making a mistake, they simply act like they meant to do it. I love that about them. Theyre so unapologetic. I'd love to see Loki with one.

Without further adieu,  I present to you Miss Iggy Stardust, whom I'd never have adopted if it wasn't for "Puck"

In light of the upcoming trip, though it is five months away, I can't help but google all things Euro. After a few clicks on Trip Advisor paired with Lonely Planet and various wiki-sites, I've come to notice the prevalence of Street Dogs in Turkey.  In order to prepare myself for wanting to adopt all canines within arms length, or having fits of missing Loki, I thought I'd check out their bittersweet story.

There are approximately 150,000 stray dogs in Istanbul and surrounding areas.


Religious Stigma: Most practicing Muslims do not keep dogs as pets because they are generally considered unclean. Also, Muslims – who make up 99 percent of the population in Turkey – believe that angels will not visit a home that contains a dog. According to Sunni tradition – which accounts for 85 percent of the Muslim world – the prophet Muhammad reportedly did not like dogs, so people of that culture generally stay away from taking them in as pets. Islam instructs its followers to take care of all creatures, and so many people feel compelled to offer a bit of food, and fresh water, to the strays that live around the city. (Lorena F. Aspe-Northern University)

Poor Unfortunate Souls: "Great Dog Massacre of 1910," an event embedded in the city’s folklore. Ottoman authorities rounded up most of Istanbul’s 60,000 stray dogs and dumped them on the deserted island of Sivriada, a tooth of rock that lies in the nearby Marmara Sea. The dogs slowly starved to death.

Modernizers wanted to transform Istanbul Alongside promoting constitutionalism, secularization, and nationalism, they wanted to rid Istanbul of stray dogs, which they saw as symbols of a disorderly and backward urban society.

Attacking the dogs went hand-in-hand with attacking religion and superstition: dogs were reportedly treated better in religious areas and local folklore had it that when dogs were treated badly, disaster would soon strike the city. Modern Istanbul would be free of such superstitions, as well as dog shit, dog-borne diseases (such as rabies), and barking. Once cleansed of these unsavoury elements, the officials hoped, it would be clean, rationally planned and productive: no longer would barking disturb the sleep of tired urbanites who had to work in the morning.

Stray dogs represented dirt, disease and danger. For their city to progress, the dogs had to go. But they did not succeed in eradicating dogs from Istanbul, despite repeated poisoning campaigns, such as the gassing of over 5,000 dogs in 1933 and 1934. Stray dogs therefore remain part of the city today and look set to continue as sources of controversy, targets of “cleansing” campaigns, and focal points of compassion and fascination (Chris Pearson, University of Liverpool).

New Law Developments:

Authorities say the dogs and cats will be fed and cared for at the new "habitat parks" situated on city outskirts, where they will be visited by school children and available for adoption.

"The proposed law aims to make animals live," the Ministry of Forestry and Water, which drafted the bill, said in a statement last month. "The aim is to prevent bad treatment of animals, clarify institutional responsibilities, and to strengthen the mechanisms of animal ownership.”

Currently Turkey's strays are rounded up by municipal authorities, who generally vaccinate and spay or neuter them before releasing them back onto the streets with ear tags.

Animal rights activists are suspicious of government motives. (Alexander Christian-Miller)

What about their health? Noticeable on the strays of the streets  are plastic yellow or metal tag punched through the the dog’s ear showing the “neuter – vaccinate – release.” tactic implemented by the Sahipsiz Hayvanlari Koruma Dernegi Shelter in order help control the population and spread of rabies. Turkish government has made it a law for municipalities to neuter and release dogs (but there are obviously very sad cases wherein dogs are taken to vile municipal shelters)

They are Citizens too:

Street animals have been a part of Turkish culture for generations, and many Istanbul residents believe they have as much right to inhabit the streets as humans.

In the central Beyoglu district, a shopping and nightlife hub popular with tourists, stray dogs and cats are a fixture of the crowded, narrow streets. They are fed and often groomed by local businesses and residents. Some even become local celebrities such as Nazli, who was referenced in a few articles online but I found this one.

"One such character is Nazli, an obese Rottweiler mongrel who spends her days waddling between cafés, butchers, and fishmongers off Istiklal, the city’s busiest shopping street.

“Everyone loves her,” says Kubilay Bircan a café worker on Hazzo Pulo Passage, where Nazli often sleeps at night. “The shopkeepers feed her with different things: fish and meat mainly. We all take care of her,” he says.

Four years ago, local tradesmen, concerned about the length of her toe nails, wrestled Nazli to the ground so a veterinarian could clip them, recalls Rita Cindoyan, a shopkeeper in the passage. “You couldn’t just take [Nazli] to a new place because she has been here all her life and she is looked after,” she says.

At Coskun butcher’s shop in the nearby Fish Bazaar, where Nazli is better known as Zehra, manager Ibrahim Ersoy is blunt about the proposed law.

“We would not let it happen,” he said. “In our language we have a saying that the one who doesn’t love animals can’t love people.”  (Alexander Christian-Miller)

Time for Some Information Overload (but hey at least there are pictures!):

Are you overloaded with information yet? No? That's great! I just wanted to add this great blog post. I have a feeling I will be echoing this point of view:

"Many Americans, myself included, leave ourselves open to ridicule for spoiling our dogs like surrogate children. If you informed the average Turk that you’d spent thousands of dollars on hip replacement surgery or chemotherapy for your dog, his head would spin like a whirling dervish. The Ottoman Empire fell shortly after the last sultan installed a four-ton crystal chandelier in Dolmabahçe Palace; ours may ultimately topple under the profligacy of spending precious resources on doggie daycare and vet bills.

Like homeless people in American cities, Turkey’s street dogs are a tear in the social fabric, a vexing social problem that resists easy solutions and forces us to reflect on our values. Inured to their suffering, we accord the homeless the fundamental right to live on the street, but in turning a blind eye we overlook how little comfort or security such liberty holds. The same might be said for Istanbul’s dogs."

I will be sure to account for this when I visit. Stay Tuned......

Warning: This is a Mixed-Bag Post :)

Mr. Doberdog and I are certainly great friends, he's a curious guy, loves everyone he meets, and from what we've seen, loves children and babies. He wags profusely at strollers, which leads me to believe he might have known a few kidlets in his past.  As pathetic as this may sound, we like to test out his food bowl  periodically, we'll stick our hands in and around his dry food,  manhandle his muzzle, play with his ears, his hindquarters, his paws, as he eats. He never has an issue, he doesnt even notice. I've crawled on all fours over to his food bowl (you can judge me, it's ok) and stuck my face in his face with zero reaction just the loud crunchy crunch of his kibble (i would never do this with any other dog but him). Often three year olds will "LOOK MAMA A BIG DOG-GEE" him and they'll pat his back, he's so tolerant, in fact i think he secretly loves children because they might have a lot common, the simple things entertain them. I'd like to expose him to more children but understandably, parents are afraid of him, and often wait for us to pass on the sidewalk.

As wonderful has Loki is with all people, I can't help but feel a tad envious of the majority my social group who have adopted very well off-leash-on-leash-dog-on-dog socialized dogs. We were recently discussing the bond they share with local dog owners at their various off-leash parks. One of my friends said point-blank "I love my dog park family, I see them sometimes twice a day, at least once a day, I talk to them more than my family. They even have dog park bbqs and picnics in the summer." 

Now, I certainly do agree that having a dog forces you out of your walking inner-monologue and is great for impromptu conversation. I'm only envious that I've not been able to take him to these popular parks because of how reactive he can be with certain large dogs. Street encounters are usually a lot better. Blogs have been a great outlet, almost like an off-leash dog park in their own right, with no limitation to what you discuss and lots of wags. I'll consider this my place for a bbq tailgate.

In a somewhat related note: I'm going to be taking a trip to Turkey (my first time overseas!) this summer for a sixteen day cross-country adventure. My Dad (who is a fantastic dog-grampa to Loki) will be taking him for a part of the time. For the other half of the time we are unsure as to who can officially take him, likely another relative but I feel really stressed about the social rules that surround Loki, it can't be someone who is not used to handling an animated 84lb dog. I generally suffer from Anxiety, but this element of summer vacation has me stressing about the "What Ifs".  "What if they introduce him to the wrong dog?" "What if he pushes a door open and excitedly bolts into a strange neighborhood?" (It's happened before but he didnt really run too far, just ran around into people's garages with this hysterically mischievious look on his face, zig zagging across the streets)  We've left him for weekends before, but never this long.

I am almost positive that as we are channeling our inner-Indiana Jones while horseback riding amongst the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia,  I'll see his little-big Doberdog face represented in a bunch of random things much like this hilariously true blog post from the pack at RasZoBai