More Fear Mongering

So, I’m sure by now that you have read the news that sleeping with your pets can, and probably will, kill you. It’s a wonder I am still breathing.

I heard it first on the radio on my way to work yesterday. Then read up via everyone’s BFF, The Interwebs.

The first article I came across was this:

Daily Mail

Oh my, where do I start?

How about here…

“Among the more serious medical problems animal lovers risk by snuggling up to their pets are chagas disease, which can cause life- threatening heart and digestive system disorders.”

Have any of you ever heard of chagas disease?

Me neither.

Google is my friend. From Google Health:

“Chagas disease is an illness spread by insects. It is common in South and Central America.”

“Risk factors for Chagas disease include:

· Living in a hut where reduvid bugs live in the walls
· Living in Central or South America
· Poverty
· Receiving a blood transfusion from a person who carries the parasite but does not have active Chagas disease”

I don’t see Fluffy mentioned anywhere, do you? Just how the hell am I getting this tropical bug disease from Kate? I guess I need to start worrying if I lose my job, move to a hut in South America and somehow end up needing a blood transfusion. Until then, the bitches can sleep where ever they like.

Oh, and this..

“Cat-scratch disease is another problem. It can come from being licked by infected felines, and can cause lethal damage to the liver, kidney or spleen.”

From being licked? It’s called “Cat-scratch” for a reason. According to these folks, simply having a cat is an issue. Is your cat beating the crap out of you while you sleep? Seems to me it would make more sense to warn people about playing with their cat. Sleeping with them seems much safer.

From Wikipedia:
“Cat scratch disease (CSD) … is a usually benign infectious disease caused by the intracellular bacterium Bartonella. It is most commonly found in children following a scratch or bite from a cat by about one to two weeks.”

Benign.
Not quite life threatening, yeah?

A real doozy…

“A nine-year-old boy from Arizona even caught the plague because he slept with his flea-infested cat, according to the report. “

Of course he caught the fucking plague because he slept with the cat. We are just going to skim over the “flea-infested” bit? Would he have caught the plague if his parents had spent 3 dollars on a

damn flea comb?!

And my absolute favorite…

“The study also showed that most of the dogs allowed to sleep in beds were small, but 41 percent were medium. One in three was large.”

OK, so writers are not mathematicians.
Let’s break this down for them, shall we?

“One in three” = 33%

All dogs sleeping in beds – medium dogs – large dogs = small dogs

100% - 41% - 33% = 26%

26% does not equal “most”

Jesus H!

If you are going to spew crap at least make some kind of sense! If you want me shaking in my boots, give me something to fear. And for fucks sake, buy a calculator!

The only thing I am at risk for catching at my house is a bit of The Crazy.

If They Only Knew

You ever have one of those conversations with someone wherein they say something with the assumption that you agree with them and you totally don’t? You have that awkward not-sure-how-to-handle-this pause?

Do you bring up the fact that you don’t agree and risk pissiness and/or judgment or do you just let it slide? Perhaps imposing the standard neutral gesture of lips pressed together, one eyebrow raised slightly coupled with a slow nod?

Outside of the dog world, it’s usually political or socioeconomic commentary. In the dog world, for me anyway, it’s always about 2 things: feeding raw and chiropractors.

The raw feeding one is probably not so much about feeding raw as it is about how not feeding raw is cruel and unusual punishment.

Now, I am not putting all raw feeders in one lump. I know lots of you and you are very nice and sane people. You have to know, however, that the fundamentalists in your ranks are a smidge kooky. The Kibble Is Death In A Bag folks are a bit out there. These are the people that make me nod in agreement when agreement is about as far from reality as it could possibly be. Trying to have a conversation about it with these folks ends up being as productive as trying to get Fred Phelps to carry a rainbow flag.

MY DOGS FOOD COMES OUT OF A BAG!

There, I said it. Judge me.

*gasp*

Now, what I would say if I didn’t fear for my reputation and well-being is that if it makes you feel good and you can afford it and your dogs do well, feed whatever that hell you want. I just don’t think it matters all that much. Now, I wouldn’t go feeding my dogs Ol’ Roy or some shit like that. They do get good kibs, but it’s kibs none-the-less. My personal feelings are that dogs are not strict carnivores. They are scavengers.

Eating poop makes me happy!

I do not believe that some lonely cave-lady stole some wolf pups and *poof* we have dogs. Dogs come from lazy wolves. The first dogs came from the slacker wolves that figured out it’s much easier to just eat our garbage than chase some fucking elk around the plains for hours. I think that’s why we get along with dogs so well. We are essentially lazy-asses ourselves. Our brains got so big because we spent so much time inventing things so we wouldn’t have to work so hard.

Wheels, guns, remote controls.

If I just look cute, people hand me bull bits to eat. No running required!

Dogs developed on left-overs. I can promise you that what is in my bag of kibble is better for them that what is in my garbage can. It’s a step up!

The chiro thing is another funny one for me. I always seem to end up in conversations with people who are hard-core adjusters. Those people that believe that anyone who does anything with a dog should take them to get adjusted as a normal course of doggy maintenance. More nodding.

MY DOGS HAVE NEVER BEEN TO A CHIROPRACTER!

There, I said it. Judge me. Again.

Even thought I don’t do it, it makes sense to me if you have a dog with messed up structure or an injury or some chronic something or other. If taking a dog like that helps them, aids in pain management or whatever, knock your socks off. I do not, however, understand the regular visits for a young, perfectly healthy dog.

I self-adjust

I mean, if my car needed a realignment every 4 months I would start to look for the actual problem, not just continue to band-aid it. Yes? I don’t get it that people put all this time, effort, research, and money into buying a puppy from “great” sport parents with “outstanding structure” and a “topline to die for” and the dogs are always out somewhere.

Why?

At what point does one start to look at other things like fitness level or injury or training or something? If you have a normally structured dog who is always throwing something out why just put it back? Look for a solution, maybe?

She prefers her hips under her chin

Bella cracks her own neck

Again, if you want to do that as a maintenance thing for your dog, great.

Your time, your money.

But, enough already with the attitude toward us non-adjusters, though.
Or, perhaps, get a feel for your audience before your sermon?

Yes, she hate us

Please take me home with you?

Good Night, Webby

Yes, this is a dog blog, but cats are people, too, right?

Dear Webster, Little Webby, The Webinator, passed yesterday due to kidney disease.

13 years is a long time to know a cat, but not long enough.

Not ceiling cat, Sink Cat!

Traveller Extraordinaire

He was one of those cats that thought very highly of himself. Always up for a conversation. He was a legend in his own mind. Really just a chicken at heart, but loved to pretend like he was some tough, wild beastie.

He played a key role in the Raising Of Bella, teaching her very important life lessons like:

It may be smaller than you but it can still kick your ass


Sure, chase the kitty, but for your own well-being it's best to stop about 10 feet out


Sharp things come outta no where. Often for no good reason


And the most important lesson...

The cat always gets the best sleeping spot
Ah, who are we kidding, they get the best spots, period.

Run free Web.

No more pain.

No more suffering.

You can probably eat string where you are too.

See you on the flip side little buddy.