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Gaura's blog: "Gaura's Garden"

created on 01/27/2007  |  http://fubar.com/gaura-s-garden/b49323

The Last Dog

Oppose CA AB 1634, oppose breed-specific legislation, support responsible dog breeders! The Last Dog By Lidia Seebeck The report came in slowly from Muddy Gap, Wyoming. Someone had spotted a dog sniffing around his house in the bitter cold of a Wyoming winter. The person was quite sure that this was a dog, not a wolf. No, of course he didn’t secretly own the dog. That had been banned long ago, of course. This dog seemed to appear out of the blizzard itself one cold night, scaring his daughter silly. Of course the animal was transferred to the authorities. It was determined that yes, indeed, this person really had found a dog, and only its somewhat feral behavior kept the land-dweller from being prosecuted for animal slavery. This dog had clearly been in the wild for some time. Everyone knew that for the last five years only the police, search and rescue, and a few charitable hospices and the like were allowed dogs, and the last one, a Yorkshire Terrier, had died last year. There was a funeral and everything, and many experts from the animal rights movement hailed the end of canine slavery. *** It hadn’t always been that way, of course. Long ago, around the millennium, people often owned and bred dogs, and sometimes they ended up in shelters. Unfortunately the dogs that ended up in shelters were sometimes euthanized. Well, some people didn’t like this. So they began to change the laws. First they banned dogs that were considered “dangerous” like Bull Terriers and Dobermans. Unfortunately sometimes docile breeds got mixed up into this, like the Greyhound, who was eventually maligned due to the muzzle it once wore while racing around a track. Predictably, the whole practice of racing the dogs was banned as being too cruel and the dogs were executed wholesale, being unadoptable due to the laws. Greyhound lovers, or Greyters, were broken hearted and tried to tell the authorities that the Greyhounds were good dogs, gentle with kids and loving even to strangers. But they were soon locked up, having been prosecuted for animal slavery. Another one of the milestones had to have been the passage of California’s Healthy Pets Law, which mandated spaying and neutering for nearly all dogs except the most pampered of show animals. People were outraged but the law passed anyways, in an effort to reduce the shelter population. Many Californians were aghast that people were doing backyard breeding, and others were just mad that animals were still getting killed. Eventually this became the American Spay and Neuter Law, which mandated spaying and neutering for all animals not involved in police or search and rescue. The next ten years or so saw the canine population growing old, and more breeds being executed wholesale as they were deemed dangerous. Too late, people realized that very docile breeds were getting declared, and they began to question the wisdom of breed-specific legislation. By then even the young dogs were eight or so, and many were rapidly dying of old age, at least in the larger breeds, *** The dog in Muddy Gap had been transferred to a facility in Laramie where a police dog academy still stood, unused. The dog was soon deluged with donations from around the country of old kibble and soft blankets that had cushioned their canine seniors. Animal lovers came in from around the country to the chance to see and cuddle with the dog. Lucky soon responded to the attention, which everyone insisted on. This dog was clearly quite old, having a very gray muzzle and face. Surprisingly, this dog was also clearly part Mastiff, which was one of the breeds to be Declared rather early on. Some dogs had been preserved as police dogs, however, so this dog was probably the offspring of one of those dogs. It had numerous abrasions and bite marks, and it was theorized that the dog had probably had to fight and hunt a lot to stay alive. No one really knew of course. *** As the War on Dogs continued, canine slavery became quite the hot topic., and there were two distinct camps of dog owners and former owners. The first was that dogs were nice to have around, but utterly miserable and it was good that they had mostly been euthanized. The other camp believed something quite different, They honestly believed that dogs were pack animals and honestly didn’t mind the direction of a dog owner, rather relishing the leadership the owner provided and basking in the love the owner gave. As such they felt that canine ownership (and they were very unhappy with the term “slavery”) was an ethical thing, and well worth the trouble of pursuing. Unfortunately this viewpoint was rapidly becoming illegal, and there were numerous people in prison for canine slavery. There were also a number of people who lived in the “back of beyond” who were breeding dogs beyond the reach of authorities. In the days when breeding was more common, these people such as coyote-dog breeders, were relatively few and far between. The shift in laws had increased their numbers, and now even responsible breeders were hiding out, hoping to save the last of their lines until the political storm broke. While some of these people persisted for a few years, it was rather easy to find a kennel full of barking dogs when all the other registered dogs were gone. Soon even these people fell to the insatiable sweep of the War on Dogs. The number of dogs in America had been rapidly dropping and was now at 5,673. Mostly these were police and rescue dogs, with a precious 10 or 15 dogs who served as roving servants, transported from hospice to nursing home to hospital to comfort the ailing. Still, the occasional dog would show up and be pressed into one of the allowed professions, or else euthanized. (For some reason, euthanasia was now viewed as the greatest gift ever, when it was euthanasia which had started the legal avalanche in the first place) *** Lucky was not doing well in captivity. He had suddenly developed a fever, and there was no legal veterinarian anymore, since they had all been out of practice for years. Former vets clustered around him and tried to remember what to do. They gave him all manner of potions and antibiotics but these only gave Lucky a really nasty attitude and equally nasty gastric disturbances. With every hour it was clear the poor old fella was dying. The nation turned in their televisions to watch, hourly updates, and the debate on dog keeping began to be opened once again. People reminisced about their dogs when they were young, and remembered good times at the dog beach or at the dog park. The talk of allowing dogs once again raged just as badly as poor Lucky’s fever. His health declined quickly, and within a few days he was on the brink of death. Some news stations had completely stopped reporting on anything other than Lucky and the dog debate.. As his last sputtering breaths were captured live and transmitted around the world, people started to call their Legislators, asking to please, please not let Lucky be the last American dog. Unfortunately, things had gone too far, this was too little and too late. Lucky truly became the last American dog..
Well, if you got an alert for this one, you're still on my friends list. There's still a few of you whom I have not heard from who are still on the list-- I seem to recall conversations in the past, so I'm trying to be patient. So, Mrs. Dragon, cunninglinguist, mistress heather, Odin, Joanna, Bedazzled Deb, Katie, Dd, Black Dragon, Damien, Oakdragon, Jugalette Woman, Chaotic Dragon, sassi, Onyx dragon, Rain Feather, Joey Jr., and Devil in Cuffs-- come on down... I'll try to ping y'all individually if I can. At least my list seems to be down to a level where I can do that now. But, better yet, send me a message, a shourt-- whatever. That's the idea here.
I'm not prone to caps-shouting. I feel it necessary, though. for the simple reason that I need to get **everyone's** attention here. My friends list-- my virtual garden-- is getting kinds weedy. I feel like there are an awful lot of you out there who sought my friendship solely for points. I'm here to try and form acrual friendships-- you know, talking about things. Now I do feel blessed by the ones who really make an effort to come by and keep in touch-- Maggie, SeidrDragon, Shalai, DivaDez, Janice, Amourette, and others, and new ones like AWitch4Life who do genuinely enjoy the art of conversation. There are others of you-- I won't name names-- who have never stopped by and said anything. I've rated everyone's photos, and stash. So I know I've done my part. I stop by every now and again to wish everyone a good weekend or whatever. What's really disgusting is that if these people are into my friendship for the points, then they aren't even rating my pics and stash which is a large number of points for them too. They don't even seem inclined to do anything but sit there and accept the passive points! Sorry, but that is utterly ridiculous. You need points, go out there and rate people. When you're done, talk to people. Leave a comment. Here's the deal. Don't be a weed. Stop by and say something, even if it's "I hate your attitude". Here's the rest of the deal. If I don't hear from you soon-- I'm pulling the weed. That's right, I'll remove you from my friends list. I'm going to post some bulletins to remind everyone of this over the next week or so just so no one forgets. I might add that if I named you above, you're exempt-- i already know you are for real (although you may certainly come by if you wish!) I will also exempt people who I have befriended in the last couple of days. This blog isn't aimed at my recent friends. So stop by, say hi, or it's goodbye. I'm tired of statistical "friends".

Bud Break

This one goes out to the Cali cherries out there, although in general some of what I say is applicable to all parts of the country. Yesterday I noticed the first wisps of green escaping from the buds of my Anna/ EinSchiener/ Dorsett apple tree. This moment is called bud break and in most parts of the sountry this happens in spring. Here, of course, if the trees actually waited until Ostara, they'd be in deep kimchee by August with a full load of fruit and 110 degrees out! So, what exactly is bud break, and why do some trees drop their leaves and grow a whole new set every year? In most parts of the country, this is absolutely essential to getting through the winder. No apple tree is going to survive a blizzard with all of its leaves. This is why they drop them in fall-- they basically go dormant-- hibernate. The buds are carefully sealed from the elements, and dormant. Giberellins help prevent the bud from sprouting-- breaking. How long the bud stays this way is determined by the amount of gibberellins the tree species and variety produces. This ;ast sentence is important, especially so for us Cali cherries. An "Anna" apple needs only 200 hours or so of temperatures below 45 degrees to wash enough gibberellin out to induce the break for the year. The next warm spell after those 200 hours, and viola! Spring is here for that tree. This is a great adaptaion for a California apple-- it helps it bear early while the weather is mild. The downside of bud break, howeverm is that once exposed the tissue is then sensitive to frost and cold. This is why you don't see "Anna" grown in Indiana-- they would freeze each year. Conversely, "Arkansas black" would not prosper in southern Cali (excepting the Big Bear, Arrowhead, Julian, Apple valeey, Oak Glen and Idyllwild areas) because it would never get enough chill to induce a good, clean bud break but is fantastic in colder regions, where it will stay safely dormant until spring really gets there. So now you know. Let's hope California doesn't have any more crazy weather now that the deciduous trees are breaking bud (this holds for peach, nectarine, and almond too, and almonds are a major commercial crop around here) We could have a great crop if the weather stays mild, since the cold snap was actually GOOD for these dormant trees (and grapes too I might add). I as always love to hear from other gardening Cherries, especially local ones. Don't feel bad if you're new to the good earth, I don't bite. I might even help turn a bit of soil for you.

First Blog

Hey, everyone else is doing it, so I oughta do this a little too. I'll obviously be covering news from my garden but also-- my Greyhounds, my family, and living in Kahleefourniya (California for those of you not initiated into the Schwartzenegger way of speaking) The good news about the recent cold snap is that my citrus appears to have survived!!! That's quite an achievement, as somewhere between 70-85 percent of the statewide trees are toast. I am also relieved because three of my trees are ex-grove trees which have a long and storied history. They are amazingly productive even in their old age. The bad news is that my banaba, guava, and peppers are pretty much goners. Oh well. Gaura's Garden Tip: Don't dig up broccoli when you've harvested the main head. Leave them go, give them a little extra compost or organic fertilizer, and harvest the side shoots that will come. Believe me when I say that you will harvest at least double and sometimes triple your harvest. Give it a try. You can keep this going until disease or insects strike or until the heat makes the taste too strong. And now for the bad news. Our dear Greyhound Mustang is at the e-vet tonight. She's quite the survivor-- at the age of 12 she survived three weeks of post-hurricane New Orleans, then made it through Lamar-Dixon until finding herself in Grey-safe hands and a GUR out here to California. She has since been suffering from spinal compressions, and incontinence. Today she suffered some sort of injury when we were away getting groceries. The vet couldn't even get her to settle down for x-rays so she is there on a painkiller drip until they can hopefully figure out what might be wrong. They are worried that she has a torn muscle. I worry that she will not be able to survive surgery. Good thoughts/ white light/ prayers appreciated.
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