Caproghagia - It Makes You Un-Poop-Ular

Hi.  My name is Christine and my dog is a poo-eater.  Not just a poo-eater, but an avid poo-eater.  Manu does not discriminate.  He will eat his own poo, Chamois' poo, the cats' poo, the chicken poo, duck poo, and I'm sure if he had access, horse and cow poo too.

Um, no.

If I want to sound a bit posh and like my dog has some trendy affliction, I'll say he has coprophagia, which means the consumption of faeces.  Actually, consumption sounds better than eating, chowing down, having a feed.  Consuming.....like he is helping the economy.  Yes, I think I like this term.

Manu has consumed faeces of all types since we adopted him at 18 months.  It's not uncommon for me to get home and drive through the gate, spying him hunkered over, pushing out a big one in the corner of the yard.  Before you can blink, he turns around, sniffs it and starts con-soo-ming.  Oh, I can feel the disgust coming off you, and I can't disagree.  It is gross.  Grosser than gross.

And that's why we call Manu 'The Recycler'

Now if Manu was a rabbit, this behaviour is normal and in fact necessary.  When a rabbit does a poop (we used to call them 'marbles' growing up, because they would roll across the floor as Twitch was having her exercise in the house) the first time it comes out, it is a substance called cecatropes.  This is produced through a fermentation process in part of their digestive tract and contains more protein, less fibre and some essential nutrients.  It is beneficial to rabbits to eat this type of poop.

Manu is not a rabbit.  It has no benefit for him.  Well, maybe pleasure - he does seem to enjoy himself.

Dogs can indulge in this type of behaviour for many reasons.  It may be a physical or medical reason or it may be behavioural.  Manu's caprophagia falls into the behavioural side.

We do know that Manu's original owners didn't do him a lot of favours early in life, and while probably not abused, he was definitely not socialised enough and we believe that he was left alone in the yard a lot without much attention.  This would explain his obsessive and needy behaviour.  Maybe his first owners reacted loudly and often when he ate poo as a puppy, as puppies often do, and he realised that he could get attention this way.  Perhaps he had accidents in the house or inappropriately, as puppies often do, and was not trained correctly about where and when it is acceptable to do your poo's and wee's.    So now we have a sort-of explanation about why Manu might eat his own droppings.

But that doesn't explain his equal love for the droppings of other species.

Apparently cat faeces and chicken and duck poo is very enticing to dogs - I'm not sure if it's the taste, or the smell or the texture, and I don't care enough to investigate - but I do know that lots and lots of dogs like cleaning up after cats, and they also love eating and rolling in chicken poo.  We get a double-whammy from Manu on that one - he loves to have a roll in chicken poo.  Daily.  Sigh....

I hear you ask how does one break this habit...I know that you are only asking out of curiousity and for research in case your dog does it one day, not to point out that maybe, just maybe, I should be doing something about this. Well, you need to be right there at the moment he is about to sink his teeth into a turd.  I work, we live on acreage and I'm not about to follow my dog around to give him positive reinforcement if he turns his attention to me instead of  the steaming pile.  I have heard of some people having success with dousing the doo-doo with hot sauce, but again, that involves catching it in its fresh state.  What would the neighbours think if I ran around the yard pouring hot sauce onto my dogs' turds?  They already think we are lunatics....


Other than the 'ick' factor, I don't see it as one of the more harmful behaviours, it's just revolting.  A lot of things revolt me - I revolt myself sometimes (have you ever experienced what happens to your guts after a night of fajitas and beer??), but you know, I live with it and move on.

Sometimes he'll catch you off guard as you let him in to the house, his face split into a wide grin and panting with excitement.  And then it hits you like a slap as the poo-breath wafts up to your nose. 

I don't smell, do I?

'Oh gross, Manu, you disgusting dog', you screech, while he looks at you wagging his tail.  He knows it's worth it, and that actually you still love him very much. 

Just no kisses please.

Perhaps this is the answer.



Friday Follies - Musical Memories

While conducting my housekeeping duties last weekend (yes, I lead an extremely glamorous life and I am very sure that you are all jealous.  Is this the stuff we dreamed about when we were teenagers, wishing with all of our might that we were adults?), I endeavoured to make the chores less painful by listening to music. 


Oh, those were the days.





As I was cleaning out the toilets (I told you - it's pretty exciting!), an old 80's favourite on my playlist pounded into my ears through the headphones - Thunderstruck by AC/DC.  The familiar beat and anthem almost stopped me in my tracks as the memories flooded into my head of my nightclub days.  Barry T's, Glory Days, Goose Loonies, the Purple Onion (although to call that place a nightclub is a bit of a stretch - Loonie Hour was the attraction there - cheap booze and lots of it!), and the Thunderdome, which always played the thumping course of Thunderstruck at least twice during the night.  And then, without warning, my eyes welled up with tears as I was overwhelmed by the happy memories of going to these places with my best friend.  Man, we had some fun.  And no, none of those stories will be shared, and quite frankly, I am grateful every minute of every day that social media did not exist then.  We dodged the proverbial bullet there.

Anyway, that moment got me thinking about the power of music and how it can take you back to a particular moment in your life, or a particular feeling.  It's powerful stuff.
I'd say that probably one of the earliest musical memories that I have is the Tony Orlando and Dawn song, 'Tie a Yellow Ribbon'.  Not that you ever hear it any more, but it brings back memories of my very, very early life, and Mum singing it in our basement suite in Skunk Hollow, Edmonton.  See Mum, your singing is memorable!

ABBA was big during the years in the mid-70's when we lived in Australia, and an ABBA song will evoke memories of our life in Wollongong - beaches and picnics and warm days playing outside.  Fleetwood Mac makes me think of Australia at that time too because the Rumours album was huge, and I can remember that record always being on when Mum and Dad had friends around.

Ew, those tight white pants.....

As my ever-suffering husband is very aware, Christmas music has a very powerful hold over me.  It doesn't matter what I'm doing, how stressed I am or how crazy my life is, a few bars of a Christmas song automatically calms me.  I can actually feel my breathing and heart rate slow as a smile comes to my face.  I love Christmas music.

Ahhh, heaven.

Then there was the 80's.  So many songs remind me of the 80's and my time in junior and senior high school.  38 Special singing 'Caught Up in You', The Cars, Billy Idol (of course...no soundtrack of my life is complete without Billy), ELO....there are too, too many to mention, and if I start thinking about it, the list would be huge.  The soundtracks to movies like Footloose, the Lost Boys and Fame are forever etched into my brain.  

Any excuse for a Billy picture.

Country music - I know, I know, it's very polarising - you either love it or hate it.  Calgary Stampede has a lot to answer for, and there were a lot of good times spent at Stampede, all wrapped up in country music.  Stampede is another time that I am very thankful that there was no social media - but they will definitely be good stories for the old folks home!

No Instagram please!

All of these songs take you back to a time and place, you it can also make you remember what you were doing, the smell, the taste and the feelings.  It's pretty amazing really.  Sometimes you'll hear a song or a piece of music that you had completely forgotten about, and it evokes memories you never knew existed.  If you look at the role that music and song has played in every culture, you realise that it must be an innate part of being human.  If you want to know more about how songs and memory are linked, this is an interesting article.  I wonder if other animals that utilise song, such as birds and whales, must use it in the same way.

I think cats would sing songs about themselves.

Despite the power of music and song, Purrkins has still not learned that my singing to him is special. He has been known to put his paw on my mouth when I sing - more than once - and the look he gives me usually says it all.  I must get more tolerant pets.

Welcome Home - The Vacation Aftermath

Welcome home!

I'm back!  I had a wonderful break over the holidays, and we enjoyed some time away beach camping.  The only downside is that I couldn't take my pets with me.  I think that they are still recovering from their 'abandonment'.

Not that they were abandoned - all were in very good care.  The dogs were in the kennels that they go to a few times a year.  Granted, they don't love going there, but they come out in good shape, they are well looked after and safe, and the owner and staff know them well - it's not like we leave them with strangers.  The cats and chooks are visited and fed by my parents every day, so they get cuddles, plus the comfort of being in their own, familiar home.  The chickens don't really like being locked up in their coop the whole time either, but they are safe from foxes.

 

I'm sure this is what my dogs think when we leave them.

As we got closer and closer to home - tired, sunburned and not looking forward to the clean up that beach camping involves - I could feel myself getting more and more excited to see my pets.  To say I  miss them while I am away is an understatement, and I feel like pieces of me are missing.

I'm pretty sure that they feel the same way too, judging by their reactions when we are all reunited. Yes, even the cats...their desire to portray an aura of indifference is overcome by desire for cuddles and attention.  They aren't as aloof as they would have you think.

As we drove up to the house, it was obvious that the cats were inside as they didn't rush for some cuddles.  I could hear the Harvey Henbanger and his harem quietly chatting to each other, happy to have been let out earlier in the day by my mother, as they foraged for tasty bugs and indulged in much needed dust baths.

As the door opened, two very happy cats came running, vocal in their admonishments for leaving them yet again.  Tails quivered with anticipation as Clawde made sure to flop dramatically in front of me, blocking my progress into the house, as he presented his belly for overdue scratches.  Of course, I fell victim to his behaviour and did his bidding, as all good slaves do.  Purrkins is a 'rubber' and he re-scented my legs with a succession of rubs and head butts.  Ahh, I think the three of us were in heaven, and felt our hearts fill up once again.

Please never leave me, Mum.

Unpacking and cleaning were hampered by frequent interruptions, with both of them wanting reassurance that we were indeed home.  Shawn was not immune to their charms either, and had a few chats with them while they assisted him with the unpacking.

Our reunion with the dogs was delayed until the kennels opened again later that afternoon.  It's always an ordeal picking them up as they are super...SUPER!....excited about seeing us, and it's a test of wills to get leashes attached to collars amidst the jumping, twirling and face licking (which, as stated before, is to be avoided by Manu The Poo-Eater at all costs).  Finally attached, they dragged us up to the car and joyfully jumped into the back seat.  As we drove home, the tiny Corolla rocked about like a car on a roller coaster as the dogs bounced back and forth, licking at our ears and necks.  All I could see in the rear view mirror was two huge yellow heads with grins spanning from ear to ear.  Our dear Chamois was more subdued, as she always likes to be 'cool' more than Manu, who couldn't hide his emotions even if you promised him 20 big, juicy bones and a never-ending belly rub.

Manu's life goal.

Fortunately it is a short drive home, and we quickly let the dogs free to run around the yard.  The first point of attack was their fluffy squeaky toys, to be presented to us in thanks for our reunion.  Once inside, Clawde was delighted at his doggies' return and immediately walked over to groom their heads.  Clawde loves ALL of his family, and hates being separated from them.  Purrkins was a bit indifferent to the dogs, his focus completely on the humans.

Chamois, not caring that we are home.

The next few days are always a trial for us because all of the pets (except the chickens) become quite needy.  Manu was more clinging than normal and Shawn couldn't go anywhere without Manu closely behind.  I, on the other hand, have my cross to bear, and it's name is Purrkins.  Purrkins was everywhere that I am - even if I went outside briefly to hang clothes on the line, he was there.  Sleep was somewhat more difficult for me than usual for the first few nights as Purrkins slept either on my face, purring furiously and drooling, or nestled in the crook of my arm, curled up into a fat, grey ball, with his paw draped across my arm, clinging on for dear life.  Even then, he still purred the whole time, sometimes putting his head up to my face so that I can kiss the top of his head.  Purrkins was NOT aloof.  Purrkins is probably the most attached cat I have ever had.  Don't get me wrong....I love it too.

 

Hold on tight, never let go.

A few days at home usually sees a decrease in the desperation to be near us (and Chamois, true to form, is the same as always - too cool for school.), but the cats ramp it up to another level.  They don't need cuddles all night, but they do apparently have to give us constant 'gifts', their ratting/mousing activities increased to a new level.   I spent half the night running to shut the cat door (that I keep forgetting to shut before bed) as I hear that distinct cat vocalisations outside my bedroom door announcing the delivery of a 'treat'.  Once their access to the inside of the house had been cut off, they decided that they will walk around the house continuing to announce their cleverness and generosity for the next 45 minutes or so.  Sigh, sleep is an elusive partner at these times particularly.

Truth

As annoying as all of this can be, you have to admit that having beasts that love you that much, no matter how tired, smelly and untidy you are after ten days camping, is quite special.


Besides, I think that maybe us leaving them at home and in kennels helps to make them appreciate what they have a little bit more.  Or not.

Friday Follies - Is There a Christmas Without Tradition?

The whole Christmas celebration is based on traditions - Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, the tree, the gifts, Santa and the elves and reindeer...it goes on and on.  But within these larger cultural conventions, each family has its own holiday traditions that they hold near and dear.  As the kids grow up and form their own families, some traditions are added, some are dropped, and so it goes for the next generations after that.

Oh, the struggle is real.

When we were little, the Christmas Tree did not get put up until after my birthday.  Having a December birthday is always difficult, with all of the special annual celebrations lumped into one month.  Birthdays often get pushed to the side or the gifts put together with a combination birthday/Christmas gift.  People are busy and can't come to parties and it all just becomes a messy few weeks.  Mum and Dad tried to counteract this by not having 'Christmas' appear in our house until after my birthday.  It was only a few years ago that I realised that I'm actually an adult now (okay, I realised I was an adult before that...), and I don't have to wait until after my birthday to decorate our tree and our house.  Phew, that's a load off my mind as I can now do it when it is convenient, not cram it in when I have little time.

The after birthday tree

Another family custom emerged from our family being a mix of Canadian and Australian.  As Canada is a day behind Australia, it was decided that one - and only one - Australian Christmas present could be opened on Christmas Eve, as it was already Christmas Day in Australia.  That was a pretty good tradition to have as a child.  Of course, if we were German, we could have opened all of our gifts on Christmas Eve as is their tradition.  Thanks Mum and Dad.....or is that 'danke'??

Mum created another routine for our family on Christmas Eve.  She knew that the next day would be full of kitchen duties, and usually there was a lot of cooking involved in parties and pot lucks leading up to the big day.  Being a practical woman, Mum decided that Christmas Eve dinner was always take-away, and usually Chinese.  I love this tradition and while we may not always have Chinese food, we definitely don't do any cooking on Christmas Eve.  For those who know me, when I say we, I mean me.

Another offshoot of being part Aussie is that we grew up having a Santa Sack, which was the size of a pillowcase, and we pinned it to the arms of the couch or a chair.  All of our Santa gifts went in there (unless we were lucky enough that they were too big).  I'll never forget the first time I realised that this was not the norm in Canada - it was Christmas Stockings all the way.  The other kids thought we were greedy, but we weren't - we got the same amount of gifts, it was just that more of ours were in the Santa Sack.

At the bottom of our Santa Sacks were usually some type of chocolates - most years it was a bag of gold chocolate coins.  Christmas and Easter were the only times that we were allowed to gorge on chocolate before breakfast - and we took full advantage of it!

When we moved out, we had our own places and of course had our own trees to decorate.  With that came the tradition of being given at least one Christmas ornament or decoration every year.  I love this one, and whenever family travels overseas and is able, they get me a new Christmas decoration.  My tree is now full of ornaments that have memories attached to them, and each year I love decorating the tree, rediscovering and reminiscing. 

You can't go wrong with cat Christmas decorations

My brother went down another road in his mis-spent youth.  When he lived in a share house in university with 3-4 other guys, their tree was decorated with condoms.  It did throw my grandmother for a bit of a loop when she realised what was actually on the tree.  I'm pretty sure that my brother would not like to carry on this tradition now that he has kids...although they might think it's hilarious!

The struggle is real

Decorating the tree is another time that family traditions die hard.  In our house, Mum and I used to go and choose a real tree.  It was Dad's job to untangle, check and hang the lights.  This was a very involved job that required at least a couple of glasses of scotch, volumes of swearing, and everyone else leaving him alone until he was finished.  Once the lights were twinkling on the tree, Mum and I (sometimes my brother...not so much when he got older) decorated the tree.  The tradition sort of continues at our house now, except I don't drink scotch while doing the lights, but after our first year together, I wrote a 'Christmas Light Agreement' that Shawn and I both signed, and it states that I will put up the lights on the tree, and I will do it alone.  This agreement has done wonders for our marriage, and I hope it will continue to be honoured into the future.  Once the tree is decorated and other Christmas delights are placed around the house, Shawn puts the star on the tree as the final touch.

I'm sure that Tangle Fairies live in storage with the lights

Probably my most popular tradition is my Christmas baking tradition.  I must have started it in my 20's.  I love Christmas and I love baking, so it all seems to work out pretty well.  I usually start baking in late October, early November, and I try and make a variety of different goodies.  I always include Scotch Shortbread, using my Grandmother's recipe.  I can never get it to taste quite as good as hers did, but I feel close to her while I'm making it (and eating it!), and I will continue to make that every year until I die.  Which will make everyone around me happy as I am pretty sure that there would be a rebellion if I ever stopped my annual gifts of assorted homemade Christmas treats.  I love doing it though, and I can't imagine Christmas without those wonderful smells in the kitchen.

No dogs were harmed in the making of this baking

Traditions are wonderful things, comforting you and making you feel secure because you know what is going to happen and when.  They make occasions special. I think it's great for traditions to be adaptable and flexible, helping them to endure in some form through the generations.
And so I wish a very Merry Christmas to all, and an amazing 2018 to you and your families.

Why doesn't Santa get me these stockings??

(I will be taking a break over the holidays, and will see you back here in 2018!)

What If The Pet Was in Charge of Christmas?

Christmas is such a magical time of year, inspired by tradition, family and friends.  But have you ever wondered what the festive season would be like if your cat or dog was in charge of it all?  Well I have, but only because my mind works in weird and mysterious ways...please don't question it, it is what it is.

Purrkins might not be the best candidate.

What if my Cat was in Charge of Christmas?

Cats, we love them, but let's face it, they have attitude.  Lots of attitude. 

The first thing Cat would do would be to change the name from Christmas to Catmas.  Cat's were worshipped by the Egyptions, and quite frankly, they don't understand why it would be any different now.  Christmas should be all about cats.  During Catmas, it would be mandatory for each household to decorate at least two full size Christmas Trees, preferably more.  These trees should be covered in lots of fun, dangly ornaments, ready to be batted off any time.  Boughs are spaced out in a manner that makes climbing easy and accessible.  Tinsel will be prevalent, but not so much so that it impedes progress up the tree trunk for the prize at the top.  Trees will also be wobbly enough to be knocked over, but not too wobbly - these things shouldn't come easily.

Do you like my beard

The base of the trees will be filled with gifts, such as dead mice and birds, and the odd cat toy infused with catnip.  For that child that has been really, really good all year, a hairball will be coughed up, preferably in an area where it is not seen until it is stepped on in the middle of the night, creating squishy goodness between the toes.

Cat Santa would be the bearer of these hairballs, as he grooms his long beard and fur trimmings on his suit and hat.  He would descend the chimney with great aplomb, always landing on his feet.  On the odd occasion that his landing did not go completely to plan, he would jump up quickly, look around to make sure no one saw, and have a quick groom to reassure himself.  Cat Santa is nothing if not cool, and must maintain this image.

The traditional milk and cookies are welcomed by Cat Santa.  He would save the milk for last as it is his favourite, and kindly knock the glass to the ground when he is finished.  Again, a little grooming session would be his reward for all of his hard work.

Clawde would make an excellent Santa.

Cat Santa photos and the shopping centre will be lots and lots of fun.  He would greet the children with a meow and a purr, and allowing his lap to be sat upon for exactly 6.345 seconds, before latching his razor-like claws into an arm or leg and biting, all the while his dilated pupils watching for any reaction.  The humans would continue to line up to do this as they love their cats and are determined to show that Cat Santa really DOES love them.  He doesn't...or at least he doesn't show it.

What if my Dog was in Charge of Christmas?

Dogmas would be a very special time of year.  If you thought Santa loved you, Dog Santa would love you one hundred percent more.  He'd scramble down the chimney making an awful noise, while ensuring that as much soot as possible was caught up in his fur, before shaking it off on the hearth, coating everything in a black dust.  He would be torn whether to go for the cookies and milk first or to bound into the bedroom to greet you (which, strictly speaking, goes against the Santa Policy of never being caught in the house).  Of course, the cookies would win, and Dog Santa would heartily gulp down the cookies before slurping the milk, making a terrible mess and keeping just a bit of it for later on his beard.

Happy Santa!

Once the snack was completed, Dog Santa would have to give you a big lick on your face to wake you up.  This is a bit unfortunate as Dog Santa had an earlier snack of reindeer poop.  Hopefully the cookies and milk washed all of that nastiness away.

A quick trot back to the living room to chew on the corners of the gifts and maybe water the on the tree to make sure that everyone knew he was there.  After all, trees have a special place in a dog's heart.

Shopping Centre Dog Santa would be much more of a hit than Cat Santa.  Everyone would get lots of kisses, and Dog Santa would spend a lot of his time on his back getting belly rubs.  While he would tell all of the girls and boys that they were good, in the back of his mind he would always need reassurance that HE was the good boy.

Manu is a good Christmas boy.

So Meowy Christmas from Cat Santa, and have a Barky New Year from Dog Santa!