Thursday, July 21, 2011

Movie Morsels 70: Amazing Spider-Man

This teaser trailer will air before Captain America (starting tomorrow) so it's not a huge sneak peek but...

Friday, July 15, 2011

I Am a Bad Dog Parent

I came across this article on Total Dog Magazine's site today (although it was originally published in April) and it made me ashamed, even sitting alone on my couch. Observe:


Revealed: The 5 Most Dangerous Dogs In The World!

Undoubtedly it’s going to be controversial. Without fear of chicken counting, it will receive a lot of traffic. And without any element of doubt, it might cause ripples but it needs to be out there, for the public to know. We’ve decided to publicly name the five MOST dangerous dogs on the planet.

The Most Dangerous Dogs in the World



in reverse order:

5. Badly fed dog.
Badly fed dog is the animal who’s been fueled up with a diet fit for an Olympic weight lifter, but who only ever gets to expend about 20% of the calories he takes in. He’s got lots of energy and his mismatched diet can manifest in bouts of sudden energetic rampaging. Badly fed dog would ask you to consider; how you would feel spending your day in an office when every inch of your body is throbbing and twitching as you crave the opportunity to actually use up some of those excess calories. Badly fed dog would be happier and safer if his diet reflected his lifestyle.

4. Never had any friends dog.
Otherwise known as ‘totally under socialised dog’.
He was a little naughty when he was a puppy, so his owner decided he’d be better off being kept away from all other forms of animal life. He now spends his days obsessing over what it would be like to chase other dogs around and, by George, one of these days he’s gonna actually do it!
Never had any friends dog is going to present his owner with a lifetime of problems, he has no social skills and has never had a chance to learn natural interaction through the teachings of his own kind. He’ll meet new dogs and will be about as socially adept as a 45-year old virgin at a Playboy mansion party. He’s going to blow it. Big time.

3. Shouty.
Shouty is the dog who has spent most of his life shouting at folks or being shouted at himself. He sees people on his street, he shouts at them. In turn, his owner shouts at him. Shouty presumes being shouted at is a recognition of his excellent work. In fact, hearing his owner shouting in response to his own shouting encourages his assumption that they’re just as upset, anxious, nervous, angry as HE is about the audacity of other people/dogs/pigeons to walk past his window. Shouty is relentlessly encouraged and endorsed in his shouty behaviour and, a bit like no friends dog, shouty spends his days imaging how good it will be when he FINALLY gets his chance to get face to face with the objects of his ire.

2. House proud.
House proud dog is SO touchy about people coming to his digs unannounced, he’ll happily maim you for your insolence in trying to visit his abode without obtaining the correct visitation paperwork.
House proud dog does a line in dishing out injuries to posties, meter readers and delivery people. Fortunately for house proud dog, his owners absolutely REFUSE to believe he is capable of violence, so leave him completely unattended to dish out his own brand of justice to anyone brash enough to consider entering his domain.

1. Spoilt dog.
“That’s mine and these are mine, those are mine, I’m entitled to that, I believe that I saw that first, I lay claim to those, I own all of these, I’m the rightful proprietor of this…”
Welcome to the world of spoilt dog. Quite simply, he believes everything he wants, he can have. Woe betide anyone to tell him differently. His timid owners have never had the heart to let him know that in the human world, simply showing your teeth and growling doesn’t constitute a legal contract on the ownership of goods. They let him off and, worse, they let him keep his spoils, which he’ll gather up and place in his own corner of the world. Sadly, spoilt dog is, one day, going to meet someone who is unaware that he has previously laid claim to every possession on earth. Unfortunately, unlike spoilt dog’s owners, this person is going to have to find out the hard way just how deep spoilt dog’s sense of entitlement runs. Really hard luck if it happens to be a youngster, blissfully ignorant to the fact that the shiny ball on the floor is spoilt dog’s most prized possession (at that VERY moment). A few stitches and a spell in hospital ought to serve as a permanent reminder though.

[What? You didn't think there was a such a thing as a list of 'dangerous dog breeds' did you? Pffft.]





As far as Funk is concerned, number five is not a problem - little dude isn't overfed and we make sure he gets to burn off energy at the park or on a long walk at least once, sometimes twice, a day.

Number four? Eh, not really a problem, either. Is Funk as socialized as he could be? No. (Thank you, parvo quarantine. Bah!) But he understands how to interact with dogs he meets and is a well-liked guy at the park. He's no Andy Stitzer.

Number three is where things start to fuzz up. Now, Garfunkel is not a dog that is constantly yelled at - far from it. But when he settles into one of his whining jags, the only thing that will get him to stop (though not for long) is a nice, loud "FUNK!!!!!!!!!!!" That also gets his attention at the dog park when he's fixated on joining a pack of dogs already in some degree of altercation. That is a reflection of bad dog parenting, though, so I can't really fault Funk for that. We haven't properly taught him how to be quiet so that's our bad.

Number two is a definite red flag. As any of you who have come to our house know, Funk is protective of his people and his domain. I'm sure that is a result of deficient training to some extent but I swear he's just an anxious, stressful guy. German Shepherds are neurotic, protective by nature and while there are those who think any and every behavior can be trained away, I disagree. I really think it's just his personatliy. Could he react better to such situations? Absolutely. And that's where the fault lies with us. But I don't think we'd ever be able to get him to be 100% calm and happy with new people and/or situations. He's just too mental. (We also do not refuse to believe he's capable of violence and wouldn't let him have free reign so don't be afraid to come over!)

Number one is mostly a problem at the dog park. Garfunkel is most definitely spoiled but I think more in the hugs and love department; he certainly doesn't automatically get whatever he wants just to make him happy. No, no, no. But when Funk gets to the park he is under the delusion that when he's drinking from the fountain, the water is only for HIM! Other dogs no drinky! And if he's playing with a toy, it's only for HIM! Don't try and touch it! He has bought himself an early ticket home from the park on more than one occasion because he wasn't playing nicely with others. (I realize this sounds like it flies in the face of my argument for number four but this behavior is much more the exception than the rule. Still, it happens.)

I do still have the brochure for Bark Busters on my cork board. That's probably a good thing.

Zoo Med Seminar

One of the classes I'm required to take each quarter is Seminar; I attend one presentation every month. The length varies, sometimes drastically - the class is scheduled from 6-9:40 and seminars have ranged from 90 minutes to over 3 hours! It depends on the presenter and it goes without saying that we, the students, prefer the less long-winded speakers. Topics vary, as well, from anesthesia procedures to shelter care to physical rehabilitation to cancer treatments. Needless to say, most are pretty dry. For the last seminar of the year, however, Ms. Gregory wanted to make it a bit more fun so she had some speakers from Wildwood Veterinary Hospitals and the Palo Alto Junior Museum and Zoo come and bring along some of their friends. It was fascinating! Everyone loved it - we were totally geeking out. (Zoo medicine is definitely an aspect of the field that most of us are interested in, but it's a pretty difficult niche in which to get a job.) The presentations were interesting, of course, but the best part was when we were set free to interact with the animals. SO. FUN! 

The boa constrictor was a popular guy. Well, for some of us, anyway. :o)

Amy

Kris

Dru




I'd never seen a ferret in person much less pet one. I was super excited!




Red-tailed hawk. We got to see a blood feather extracted from one of her wings! I told you - we're geeks.


A rescued tortoise.

African pygmy hedgehog. He wasn't as prickly as I thought he'd be.



Fruit bats!!! These were one of two animals we weren't allowed to handle (the other being a rhinoceros iguana); no one is allowed to handle them unless they've had a rabies vaccination, in fact. But they were cuter than cute and very popular.



My very first skink. He was very sweet. :o)


I just wish I had been more photogenic that night... I feel so awesome having posed with so many animals!

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Cat Tree

Robert had been project-less for some time when a perfect opportunity presented itself: a cat tree for Linguini. Robert got the idea almost as soon as we brought Linguini home and was chomping at the bit to get started for days. So, he hopped on the Web to do some research before charting out a plan.


Linguini was keen to help.


This was the first draft, if you will, and Linguini was quick to check it out.


He seemed to like it pretty well.


But he liked the improved version even more.



The cat tree turned out to be an excellent way to use our leftover carpet pieces. Unfortunately for my nose, however, Robert also used oodles of sisal rope. I understand that it's necessary for the claws and the scratching and blah blah blah but it smells like burning tires and my nose is a most unhappy protuberance. Robert didn't (and still doesn't - he's a robot!) notice the smell but he still wasn't a fan of working with it.

"I hate this rooooooooope!!!!"



This was the first time Gweenz climbed up to the top by himself and Robert was tickled pink.



He seemed to find the rest of it to his liking, too. :o)





It took longer to complete than Robert would have liked but since he was only ever really able to work on it on weekends, I think he did it pretty quickly. He is his own harshest critic.

Here is the finished product. Gorgeous!!!







I think Robert should whip some more up and sell'em. He's quite the craftsman!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Movie Morsels 69: HP London Premiere

I'm going to skip right over my obligatory apology for more Potter stuff and get right into the meat of things:


And here's the link to everything Potter at EW.com. I am Dork Supreme!!!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Man w/ Hot Man Success! Almost.


They took off their shirts, at least! I will say, though, that I feel like this is a crossing Bear would've made only in his boxers had he not had a newbie companion. Still, I'll take what I can get. :o)

These are the Top 5 Jake moments, according to EW.com.

Naked Sheep!

You can refer back to this post (or even just a couple posts back) to remind yourself of what Alvin and Theodore looked like with their woolly coats. Although, I have to say, the old photos were taken during the first quarter and it's a little misleading because the guys really became much poofier in the ensuing months. The sheep had their yearly shearing back on the 1st* and I REALLY wanted to go but was under the weather and so couldn't make it. (Ask Robert - I bemoaned missing my disfigurer's denuding all weekend!) But luckily Kristine had Animal Care the next day and so snapped some shots of them for me. I LOVE it!




You don't look quite so tough, now, do ya? Ha!


I had no idea there was so much color under there!

* The shearing is a little bittersweet, though, because legend has it that Bonnie ruled the roost once the guys were shaved because she was then the big gal on campus. We were all looking forward to seeing shy Bonnie come out of her shell. It just wasn't meant to be this time, I guess. :o(

Thursday, July 07, 2011

The Three Amigos

Well, sort of. Quigley and Linguini got off to a bit of a rocky start but by the end of the day everyone was okay sharing the couch. :o)


Caught in the act!

What's That, You Say?

You want to see MORE Harry Potter stuff? *tsk* Well, if you must!





Friday, July 01, 2011

Occupational Hazards

Remember this post? The one about how it's not IF you get scratched/bitten/mauled/deformed in the vet world, it's WHEN? Well, my answer came on June 12th when a very angry cat nailed me and left his claw in my arm. Yes, I said in my arm. Jub Jub didn't like me from the start - he hissed at me every single time I walked by his cage. Both the doctor and my supervisor (Rof) agreed that Jub Jub could sense my distrust of cats and I'm sure that's true but what was (am) I supposed to do to remedy that? When, as a student and an intern, you are beaten over the head with tales of cat bites leading to nasty and long-lasting infections or worse! I'm not a huge cat person anyway (sorry, Gweenz) but I definitely have the fear of God in me with regard to cat teeth and claws. So, since I am so hesitant to tangle with felines, it only follows that Rof takes every opportunity to make me handle them. I understand his logic but me no likes. And so it was that I was tasked with taking Jub Jub from his cage and placing him in his carrier. Jub Jub did not want to leave his cage and he really didn't want to get in his carrier. Rof wound up taking over, using a giant towel, and I wound up with a claw in my arm. See?



Jub Jub also left a nice, big scratch from my middle finger knuckle past my wrist and two puncture holes in my forearm. I tried to take a photo but it just did not turn out well so I've whipped up an artist's rendering of my injuries:




I have a bunch of bruises on my arm from other mishaps with both animals and cage doors and I can assure you - and Robert and my parents can attest to this - my right arm really did look like this for quite a while. I receive most of my bruises from dogs that don't want to be restrained but I also seem to run into doors and locks a LOT at the clinic. It's pretty annoying. I've also been nipped by two dogs but neither broke the skin so that's good. As much as I was distressed at my Jub Jub injuries, I was extremely happy he didn't bite me. Because even with just a scratch, I had to run my arm under hot water and squeeze the puncture holes to get my wounds to bleed as much as possible. Then I got a thorough scrubbing with soap and then alcohol. It was delightful.

Of course, it's not just clinic animals that can hurt you; I was recently disfigured by our horned sheep, Alvin. A little backstory: For past couple months, we've been asked to modify our contact with Alvin because he's become too aggressive. First, we had to stop petting him. Then we weren't allowed to feed him his daily allowance of oats. Then we weren't allowed to feed any of the ruminants oats because "humans need to be associated with nothing good." I know some students didn't but I followed the new rules, even though I had never had any sort of problem with Alvin. He'd never shown any dominant behavior while I worked with him so I was careful but not afraid. That all changed last Tuesday when I tried to feed Charcey and Alvin decided he really wanted some of her feed. He'd never expressed interest in her food before but I assume he was feeling oat-deprived and wanted some grainy goodness. Anyway, Alvin wouldn't get out of Charcey's stall and Charcey was hungry and pissed that Alvin was keeping her from getting her food. So I had an angry sheep and an angry horse on my hands. Fun! I tried all of the "approved" methods for moving Alvin - shooing him away with a hand towel and then a broom - before I just grabbed him by the horns and pulled him out of the stall, (locking Charcey in behind me). Was this the best option? At the time, I thought yes. I didn't want to get trampled by Charcey and Alvin was making moves to butt me so I just wanted to get him out of there. In the end, however, I didn't avoid the butting as Alvin was pissed he no longer had access to the Equine Senior Delight - he turned and very deliberately nailed me in the left shin with his horns. These horns.


Which, as I'm sure you can imagine, HURT like a mofo. That is to say a lot. A lot a lot. I was first completely bumfuzzled, then a little hurt that Alvin, previously a nice guy, had turned on me. Then I was pissed. Alvin was and will forever remain (excuse my language) on my shit list.

Photos of bruises just don't come out well but I tried. I think Robert will agree that the following pictures just don't do it justice. And it's not a bruise, actually - it's a hematoma. (There are actually two but the upper one is much smaller.) Cause it's big and knobby and suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper tender. It's a week-and-a-half later and my leg is still too sore to lay on. It's super fun at the clinic when dogs run into it, too. Hrmph. So when you see me wearing shorts this summer and you wonder at the big purple lump on my leg, that's it.