Kari Neumeyer

Appropriate dog park behavior or party foul?

A miniature German shepherd (that could be a breed) seeks Leo's counsel at the dog park. — A miniature German shepherd (that could be a breed) seeks Leo’s counsel at the dog park.

We haven’t been to the off-leash park in a while, so we thought we’d go Sunday during the Super Bowl, when we’d have it mostly to ourselves.

Our favorite park isn’t fully fenced, but the play area is between a really steep hill and a waste treatment facility. One trail leads down the steep hill, and another leads in from the parking area. None of my dogs have ever tried to escape, although a smitten Leo did try to go home with a couple of pugs once.

Apparently we weren’t the only ones who thought we’d have the place to ourselves. We saw a middle-aged gent walking with a border collie and Australian shepherd. Mia already was off leash, but we usually keep Leo harnessed up until we’re in full view of the play area. I consider it bad dog park manners to let a dog haul ass into the fray before the other people and dogs can see its human companion.

The man and dogs were on their way out the other end of the park, and Rob said, “Should we wait until they’re gone before we unleash Leo?” And I don’t know why, but I said, “Nah, just let him go.”

Possibly, I wanted Leo to have a chance to greet a couple of other dogs, since he hasn’t gotten to hang with any but Mia since last summer. Possibly, I didn’t want to give him the chance to start barking, like he does when he’s on leash and sees another dog. Maybe I thought that guy would be happy to see a couple of German shepherds on this bleak and rainy Super Bowl Sunday at the park.

Whatever, we were in an off-leash dog park, so we let our perfectly friendly 95-pound German shepherd off leash. He loped over to the other dogs to say, “What’s up?”

The border collie tucked her tail between her legs and hid behind a park bench for a second, before bolting away from her owner and toward us on the path, Leo in hot pursuit.

She zipped past us like a bullet and zoomed up the trail back toward the parking area.

“Wow, I’ve never seen that before,” I said, as I weighed the odds of Leo following the dog all the way out of the park, into the street to who knows where. “Leo!” He, of course, ignored me and kept running after the border collie

The man called his dog’s name, but that critter was gone. We could see Leo through the trees on the path. I looked at Rob, “You better go. Run.”

Rob trotted off in Leo’s direction, but perfect angel that he is, our boy realized the error of his ways (or else the border collie was so far gone he forgot what he was chasing), and he came back. The man passed us, looking, I would say, annoyed. Not terrified that his dog had just run away and might get hit by a car, and not overtly hostile toward us for chasing his dog away.

He said, “She’s just a little puppy.” Hmm. Puppy maybe, but not that little. I’ve seen full-grown border collies that size. He said the same thing to Rob, then trudged up the path after his dog. Was that his excuse for lack of voice control over her, or was it his explanation for why she ran screaming from Leo? Perhaps both.

In hindsight, yes, it would have been better to keep Leo leashed until the man and his dogs were out of sight, since they were leaving anyway. But we were at an off-leash dog park. Dogs are supposed to chase each other. How were we supposed to know the border collie would actually leave the park? Even if I had better voice control of Leo and he came right back to me instead of following the border collie up the path, that wouldn’t have kept the border collie from running off. But… she wouldn’t have run off if Leo hadn’t been chasing her.

As usual, my concern is that another dog owner will blame the German shepherd (and me as the negligent owner) for instigating a problem. I worry that this man thinks Leo chased his dog out of the park. In my mind, that’s not what happened, but I’m biased.

So I put it to you, readers, and not just because I want assurance that Leo and I aren’t responsible for this dog running away. Did Leo display normal, appropriate dog park manners? Are we to blame? I mean, even if the guy hoped to be the only one there, it’s reasonable to expect that a dog might come running up to you at the dog park, right?

I really hope that guy caught up to his dog.

No poop left behind

I take pride in being the most conscientious dog poop picker upper in the world.

The worst thing that can happen to a dog mom like me is to have my dog poop while off leash at the dog park, and then not be able to find it. I have wandered icy fields in futile search of steam rising from Leo’s pile. Oh, the guilt, knowing someone is going to step in poop that I should have picked up.

When I take Mia to the park at lunch, she usually poops while I’m eating. Of course I wait until I’m done eating to pick it up; otherwise, that’s disgusting. While bagging it the other day, I thought, “This poop seems really cold to be from just a few minutes ago.” Then saw Mia’s poop a few feet away. Yes, that’s right, I even pick up OTHER dogs’ poop. That’s how conscientious I am.

On a few occasions, I’ve found myself on a walk without a bag and I have driven back to the location of the poop to pick it up.

And because I love the earth so much, I use biodegradable poop bags. I used to buy them at the co-op, but to be honest, they’re kind of small for Leo-sized poops. If you’re not grossed out by this post already, this should do it: With a too-small bag, you run the risk of getting poop on your hands. I ordered some Earth Rated poop bags online. They’re supposed to be lavender-scented, but really they smell more like old lady perfume. I have learned the trick to opening the bags is to get your fingers wet, either by licking them or touching wet grass, but maybe I need the dispenser, because sometimes I have trouble detaching a bag from the roll.

Lately, Rob and I have been walking the doggies after dark. Just out to the end of the block. When a dog poops, I bag it, then leave it on the curb to pick up on the way back. The other night, Rob noted the house number where the bag was, but I pretty much remembered the location. Last night, we didn’t check the number, but I was certain I left it near a mailbox.

On the way back, I was distracted because Rob was telling me some story about boobs, and two bicycles passed, and we had to cross the street to avoid a pedestrian, and while I was extremely proud of Leo for not barking and lunging at any of these things, I somehow missed the poop bag.

I insisted that Rob and I drive back down the block to retrieve it. Because what do you think when you see a bagged poop on the sidewalk? You don’t think, “Oh, a person couldn’t find that poop bag,” or even “That person forgot their poop bag.” You think, “What kind of jerk goes to the trouble of bagging poop and then not throwing it away? Like they’re doing me some favor of keeping me from stepping in it, but are not courteous enough to remove it entirely.”

We looked in front of every house with a mailbox but couldn’t find it. “Please, let’s go back one more time,” I begged. But Rob refused.

I had to go to sleep last night knowing that poop bag was still out there, but refused to relinquish the title of most conscientious dog poop picker upper in the world. In the light of morning, I drove down the block again, and saw the green bag flapping in the breeze in front of a house without a mailbox. So obvious I can’t believe we missed it, even if we were only looking at houses with mailboxes.

I retrieved it, threw it away, and all was right with the world.

The Accidental Teacher Dog

Mia is perfectly happy entertaining herself, thank you very much.

Mia and I helped socialize an 11-month-old Great Dane today.

Back when Leo was a puppy and needed lots of stimulation, I sometimes took him to a large ball field at lunchtime hoping to find like-minded dog parents with suitable playmates for him. We also took him to doggie socials on weekends, but since he couldn’t play with Isis at home, and there were no dog parks near my work, this was my best weekday option.

A handful of times we found dogs to play with. The rest of the time, I threw tennis balls to him with a Chuck-It.

Now that Leo is a big boy, and NSFW, I take Mia to that ball field when the weather’s mild. We don’t care if there are dogs to play with or not, and she doesn’t even let me throw her the ball much. I chuck it once, then she runs around with it in her mouth while I eat my lunch. Maybe she’ll drop it while she poops and I can get another throw or two in there, but the point is, she likes the fresh air and chomping on the rubber ball. (We stopped using tennis balls since they became single-use items – she’d destroy them with one chomp).

Sometimes we see another dog way on the other side of the field, but Mia doesn’t run away from me to greet them, not the way Leo would. I’m aware in a shift in my attitude. I would rather not have strange dogs or their people approach me to play. I don’t know their dogs, Mia doesn’t need the socialization, and I have far too much experience with volatile dog interactions.

Today, I saw a man walking a large black dog in my direction. Mia was off doing what she does and wouldn’t even have noticed if the dog hadn’t come within 15 feet of her. As they got close, Mia trotted up to the dog, which I could tell was a Great Dane and not very old.

I delivered my expected, cliched, yet meaningless line of dialogue, “Is your dog friendly?”

The man said, “Yes. I just wanted to come up to talk to you first in case she runs up to your dog, which she probably will.”

And I’m thinking, please just unhook your dog’s leash from her awful prong collar, because the dogs are sniffing each other, and Mia’s starting to dance around and bark. I recognize this as play behavior, but I don’t know his dog, and really, I haven’t seen Mia play with very many other dogs besides Leo, and certainly none restricted by a leash. Who knows what could happen?

I call Mia to me, and she complies, having dropped her orange ball right next to where the man and dog are standing, so I can’t even throw it to her.

After he unleashes his dog, the pair go off and running. Mia’s barking, and her hackles rise a little. I’m not sure how much fun she’s having.

“She doesn’t really know her boundaries,” the man says of his dog.

And I think, well, Mia will certainly let her know if she oversteps them.

I retrieve the ball and throw it and both dogs run after it. Mia wins. Then she drops it and the Great Dane grabs it and runs circles around the ball field, reminding me quite a bit of Leo, gleefully frolicking after winning the toy.

The man and his lady friend say, Wow, that’s the first time she’s ever shown interest in a ball. And I worry that Mia won’t find the Great Dane’s victory lap as adorable as I do, so I get a blue ball from the car.

Now each dog has a ball, and the Great Dane is really gnawing at hers. Granted, Mia’s jaw power probably exceeds the Dane puppy’s by about a million, and she hasn’t caused any damage to the orange one after multiple uses, but I start to worry that this strange dog will destroy the blue ball I very kindly lent her.

A few times, the Dane gets too close to Mia, and Mia lets her know with the snarl/bark (snark) that I recognize from hearing it directed at Leo on a regular basis. It means, “Back off, buddy. This is my ball.”

The Dane snarks back once, but then does then back off, respecting Mia’s boundaries. The couple seems troubled. “Oh, that’s not good.”

I’m not sure if they were concerned about their own dog’s behavior, or if they were worried by Mia’s possessiveness over the ball, or if they were just ready to go, but they moved on a few minutes later.

All in all, I thought the experience was completely positive and educational for the other dog. For a puppy who “doesn’t really know her boundaries,” she just learned how to interact with a mature, dominant female who didn’t want to share her ball. You’re welcome.

No matter what they thought about me and Mia, I related to this couple looking for a way to exercise and stimulate their puppy. There are no clear rules of engagement for people or dogs in off-leash situations, and even if there were, most people would either be ignorant of them or ignore them on purpose. I was sad to read The Fur Mom’s blog post about the decline of the charmingly named Strawberry Fields For Rover dog park in Marysville. It’s so hard to trust other dog owners, never mind their dogs!

I don’t eat Paleo, but my dogs do

Have you heard about the potentially controversial research that dogs, through evolution, can now digest carbs in a way that wolves could not?

When I heard, and decided to blog about it, I was astonished to see how little I have written about raw feeding. A mention here or there, sure, but nothing significant since I first started feeding Isis raw meat in 2009.

I’m a believer in the nutritional benefits of feeding a dog raw meat. Humans are the only creatures that cook their meat, after all. Based on the information I had at the time, I fed Isis a prey model of 80 percent muscle meat, 10 percent bone, 10 percent organs. She seemed to thrive on the diet with a glossy coat and nonstinky breath.

She died very suddenly within two years of being put on this diet, but I have no reason to believe the diet had anything to do with her death from a thymic hemorrhage. I had recently added vegetables and nuts to her diet, at the suggestion of a holistic vet. I don’t think the vegetables or nuts killed her either. She had seen both the holistic vet and our regular vet within a few months of her death, and neither found anything medically wrong with her as a result of her diet, or otherwise.

Leo has eaten raw meat since I brought him home. Because he was extremely lean at about seven months, the holistic vet suggested I supplement the meat and bones with a grain-free kibble. He has eaten a combo of raw beef, deer/bison/llama bones and Taste of the Wild Pacific Stream formula ever since.

Mia was a little smelly and dull-coated when we got her, but shortly after transitioning to this same diet, her coat glistened and her breath got fresher. She did gain some weight from overfeeding, but otherwise is terrifically healthy.

So I won’t change my dogs’ diets based on the news reported today in the Los Angeles Times, NPR and the BBC. (I offer you three links to give the choice of reading, listening or watching the report).

The way I understand it is that dogs are capable of digesting grains. That doesn’t make it more nutritious than their historical diet. That doesn’t mean that they will live healthier, longer lives by eating a corn-based processed kibble.

I’m amused by the paradox between this research and the Paleo Diet, which is based on the idea that humans should still be eating the things they ate before the agricultural revolution. So, dogs have evolved to eat grains, but humans haven’t gotten there yet?

I don’t dispute the health benefits of going paleo, but I digest cake, bread and french fries just fine, thank you very much. I do know that I would be better off eating more vegetables. And I believe that dogs are better off eating a diet primarily consisting of raw meat and bones.

I think I haven’t blogged much about this before because I wanted to stay out of the fray, but I’m ready to stir the pot. So let’s hear it: My fellow raw feeders, what do you make of this news? Other dog lovers, where do you stand on a high-protein versus high-carb diet for your pooches?

Building a blog tribe

I never used to care how many readers I had.

When I first started blogging in 2002, I was afraid to attach my name to it, afraid to put myself all the way out there. I wanted to write publicly, but didn’t necessarily want people knowing who I was. I was living in Prague and wanted family and friends to know what I was up to. Family members followed my blog, but very few friends did.

I don’t envy those of you who blog as a profession. I can’t imagine being dependent on hits for my income. To me that’s really scary. I want to blog what I want to blog and not worry about my following.

For most of its life, Rhymes with Safari had about six readers, and that was just fine with me.

As I get ready to start querying agents for my memoir, Bark and Lunge, I’m constantly hearing that I need to build a platform. I need to show prospective agents and editors that I can attract a following. They want to know that more than six people will buy my book.

To that end, I’ve joined some social networking groups aimed at expanding one’s blogging reach, and I’ve more than doubled my Twitter following… to a whopping 96 tweeps.

I’ve made a few changes around here. I bought the domain KariNeumeyer.com a few months back, and you’ll notice that’s now the default URL. Right now, both KariNeumeyer and RhymeswithSafari will get you here, but I may not renew RhymeswithSafari.com a year from now.

I’ve also been advised to establish myself as a dog blogger, and not blog about unrelated topics. That way, publishers will recognize that I am the right person to write a memoir about loving an aggressive dog.

Interestingly and probably unfortunately, my dog posts don’t attract the most readers. My travel posts last year seemed wildly popular among total strangers.

In Brooke Warner’s book What’s Your Book? she talks about losing interest in a travel writer whose blog wasn’t entirely about travel. I feel for that blogger. I wouldn’t be able to sustain a travel-only blog year-round, not the way I blogged during my last trip.

I probably could write about nothing but dogs, but I fear that would get boring. Post after post about Leo chewing a piece of furniture, or Mia stealing his toys. I mean I could look at pictures of my dogs forever. Could you?

Besides, there are lots of dog blogs out there. There’s only one KariNeumeyer, and she also likes to talk about movies, and describe her experiences at the walk-in clinic and emergency room.

I am allowed to write about writing and the process of getting published though, so at least this post is acceptable.

The Drunk Intruder or Why we got German shepherds in the first place

More than six years ago, when Rob and I had been in our house only a few months, a sketchy transient dude walked up our long driveway and knocked on our front door. I can’t remember what he wanted, or what Rob said, but I do remember thinking that when we got a dog, we should get a big dog.

Generally speaking, I feel very safe living with Rob. He’s never actually beaten anyone to a bloody pulp (to my knowledge), but I’m confident in his ability to defend himself (and me) from evildoers.

The funny thing about getting Isis as our first guard dog is that both Rob and I would have taken a bullet rather than see her harmed. Same with Leo and Mia.

Anyway, a guard dog’s bark should be protection enough. No one’s going to break into our house when we’ve got Leo’s big boy bark rumbling from behind the door.

No one sober, that is.

Friday night, I fell asleep around 10:30. I awoke around 11:45 (thinking it was morning) to hear Rob saying, “What the hell?” Both dogs were barking and then I heard Rob say, in a lower-pitched-than-normal, atypically tough-guy voice, “Hey, man. Whatchu want?” (guess that’s his big boy bark.)

I sat up in bed, and couldn’t hear the response, but I heard Rob say, “You’re in the wrong area. You need to leave.”

Banging on the door. Dogs barking. Rob dialing 911. “Yeah, I have a drunk guy at my front door.”

The guy was persistent in his pounding. He really thought this was the place he wanted to get into. I looked through the peephole and saw a thin white dude wearing a bright blue baseball cap, saying, “C’mon, man!” He was swaying and his eyes unfocused. Definitely drunk.

Rob offered to go outside and restrain him until police arrived, but I said, “Please don’t.”

To be honest, I’m disappointed in the dogs’ level of concern. They barked like crazy, yes, but in the same tone of voice they use on the postman, or anyone who comes to the door, whether a salesman or invited guest. I expected them to sound scarier when they sensed how agitated Rob and I were about the guy on the porch. Though it seems there’s no level of barking that would have deterred this individual.

The front door vibrated from his banging. When Leo and Mia paused to take a breath, I said loudly and calmly through the peephole. “You have the wrong house.”

“Oh,” he said, banging fist falling to his side. “Sorry.”

He leaned back against the wall behind him, fumbled for a long time with his keys and his phone. Dialed a number and then staggered down the driveway as the squad car arrived.

Rob spoke to one police officer while another questioned the suspect. Pretty sure he was just a confused partygoer, but I’m glad we didn’t have to find out what he would have done if the front door hadn’t been locked.

Leo keeps watch while Mia "woofs" for effect. — Leo keeps watch while Mia “woofs” for effect.

Pet Blogger Challenge

Rather than have an existential crisis about whether Rhymes with Safari counts as a dog blog, I’m gonna just jump in and participate in GoPetFriendly’s Pet Blogger Challenge.

1. When did you begin your blog?

I started blogging in 2002, when I was living in Prague and working for Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty.

2. What was your original purpose for starting a blog?

This was before Twitter and Facebook. I didn’t even know what a blog was until my friend Chelsea told me she started one. At the time, I posted whatever random musings I had during the day, much the way we all use Facebook and Twitter now. I also posted links to funny things on the Internet, and commented on the international news events I covered at my job.

3. Is your current purpose the same?

Not at all. You’ll notice that the above description has nothing to do with pets. My fella and I got our first dog, Isis, in 2006. For a few years, I blogged fairly infrequently, but when I did, it was usually about Isis. I posted lots of pictures of her with soccer balls.

Isis died in 2011. I have written a memoir about Isis’s life, and am starting the process of getting that published.

Now my blog focuses on the antics of my delightful muses Leo and Mia.

4. How often do you post?

A goal I feel I can meet is to post at least once a week. I would like to post more often.

5. Do you blog on a schedule or as the spirit moves you?

As the spirit moves me. I find it hard to stick to “dog blog” topics only, so I also write about pop culture a lot, books and authors, food and fitness.

6. How much time do you spend writing your blog per week? How much time visiting other blogs? Share your tips for staying on top of it all.

I find myself thinking of topics and mentally writing blog entries throughout the week, and spend less than an hour actually typing up each post. But then, I write pretty fast. I could never charge by the hour for my services!

I visit other blogs all the time, as part of my regular social media diet. Every time I scroll through Facebook and Twitter, I find lots that I want to read. When I’m on a desktop computer, I’ll click all of them and read at my leisure, but it can be tough on a mobile device. Especially when the wifi is temperamental.

7. How do you measure the success of a post and of your blog in general (comments, shares, traffic)?

All of the above. Mostly I look at my stats in WordPress. I’m learning to use hashtags in Twitter to stimulate sharing. Last fall, I got more “likes” on my posts about a trip to Russia (which did not include the dogs) than I did on my most heartfelt dog posts. I started to wonder if I should be writing a travel blog instead of a dog blog.

8. If you could ask the pet blogging community for help with one issue you’re having with your blog, what would it be?

I would like to attract more readers. Can I do that by writing about other topics besides my dogs, or will I lose my cred as a dog blogger?

Please subscribe and/or follow me on Twitter: @KariNeumeyer

9. What goals do you have for your blog in 2013?

More readers! Post 2-3 times a week. Lose 25 pounds. Sell my memoir! (OK, those last two are more personal goals than blog goals.)

~~

The Pet Blogger Challenge was started by Amy at Take Paws– Go Pet Friendly and Edie of Will My Dog Hate Me? as a way for pet bloggers to meet each other, learn about each other’s goals for our blogs and find support for our blogging. This is the 3rd year and the number of bloggers joining in grows each year.

This is a Blog Hop, but WordPress won’t allow the Javascript to include the links. Please visit Take Paws to see the complete list of Pet Blogger Challenge participants.

Coming tomorrow

How to sabotage the Skinny Rules: Holiday Edition

Make excellent choices.

Breakfast: Oatmeal with greek yogurt and flax seed.
Lunch: Salad with grilled salmon
Dinner: Grilled fish, salad, grilled zucchini

Surprisingly, I found it easy enough to observe Bob Harper’s Skinny Rules at meals over the holidays. At the Fish Grill in Brentwood, I even opted for salad and zucchini instead of fries or baked potato, and I resisted eating any of my mom’s fries.

Ready for the the trick to completely sabotaging any hopes of losing weight?

Between meals, stuff your face with cookies, cake, and candy. All of it you can get your hands on. Non stop.

For example, I baked my boyfriend a He-Man cake for his 42nd birthday. (Is that weird?)

While working at home last week, I reduced He-Man from a bust with shoulders and hair to simply a face. Then I ate that too.

heman cake

Look, I’m not conceding defeat or anything. I’m congratulating myself on learning how the rules work, even as I blatantly flouted them.

Starting today, this time I mean it. I’m gonna stop eating starches after lunch, or anything after eight. I’ve almost gotten rid of all the other crap around the house. Except for maybe a little bit of candy. But I’m totally going to exercise some will power over that. Totally. (And if I don’t, I’ll start the Skinny Rules tomorrow.)

Getting organizized in 2013

You know that feeling like you left something behind? Or there was something you were supposed to do? Or you walk into a room and forget what you walked in there for?

Yeah. That.

My first day back at work after the holiday, I overslept egregiously. Mind you, I like to sleep in, but rarely do I actually OVERsleep to the point that I open my eyes, see that it’s 9:30 and think, OMG WTF how did it get that late?

See, since Rob started his new job, I’ve been driving him to work every morning. While I was in Los Angeles over Christmas, he drove himself, and we never discussed whether he’d drive himself or if I’d drive him this week. So I expected him to wake me at 7:10 yesterday. He did not.

I unhurriedly got myself together. (What? It was the first day back after a holiday. Besides, my office just moved. All I had to do this week was unpack.) As it turned out, I needn’t have gotten to work any earlier than 10:30 anyway, because the furniture had not been delivered and the Internet not hooked up. So I went home to work the rest of the day there.

Today, I set an alarm, got out the door closer to my usual time, and was halfway to the office when I realized that I left my cell phone at home. Normally, I wouldn’t go back for it, but since the phone hasn’t been hooked up yet at the new office either, it was my only means of communication. After turning around and going back, I beat yesterday’s arrival time by a half hour.

Still no Internet, but I spent the morning decorating my wall. My new office has very high ceilings, and I have even more Salmon Homecoming and Festival of the River posters, so I’ll need to get a ladder in there to finish the job.

wall (13)

I love that bulletin board. I mean, I really love it. Love it so much I’ve even blogged about it before. There’s a open space in the center for a picture of Isis, which I brought home with me, because it wasn’t secured very well and I didn’t want it to get lost when the bulletin board got moved. (I love it so much, I wanted to move it intact.)

I almost didn’t hang the bulletin board today, because as you can see, it requires two nails. I started to mark the space on the wall when I realized that I didn’t have a level. Leaning the board against the wall, I thought, “I’ll bring a level next week and hang it then.” I went ahead and hung the framed print on the left. Rob got that for me at a garage sale, and it shows a tribal canoe paddling past the Seattle skyline, Space Needle and all. Then I hung the framed Seattle Times article below it. The front page article from summer 2010 used photos I took of the epic Fraser River sockeye fishery.

By then, I thought, what the hell and went ahead and hung the bulletin board. I may have had to hammer in one of the nails twice. It may or may not actually be hung straight.

If you know anything about me and Rob, you know that I’m the self-described uptight one, and he’s the easygoing one. So it struck me as funny today, the yin and yang of our frame-hanging personalities. I get so eager to see stuff on the walls, I’ll stick pushpins in without a thought to layout or angle. I’ll hammer a nail, step back and see that it’s not straight, pull out the nail and hammer it in again.

Rob takes measurements. He uses a level. He puts thought into the matter. He is precise.

Before I met him, it wouldn’t have occurred to me to use a level to hang a bulletin board. I didn’t even own a level. I made do without one today, and I think my wall looks spectacular.