Posts Tagged ‘Dog’

And what is it about all these fecal-based products lately, anyway? I suppose it’s fitting that we’re crapping out* these stupid products in our disposable society.

A few gems from their FAQ:

Dog feel not respected when wearing “PooTrap”?
Babies wear diapers and they are truly loved by their parents, hence same applied to the dogs owners who use our “PooTrap” actually truly love their dogs.

I would rather like to pick up poop by myself?
People invented many useful technologies to make people’s life easier. All these inventions (car is among one of them) are to make people’s life more convenient. With our “PooTrap”, no need to worry that dogs will cause environment pollution, and as dogs owners may know, actually it’s difficult to pick up poop.

Why my dog seem not able to get used to “PooTrap”?
In many ways dog is like human being! It’s like when first time people use camera to take photos, for sure it seems weird but nowadays many people around the world are using cameras for taking photos. Same as our “PooTrap”, the first time dogs start to use it might also feel weird and uncomfortable, however, with some insistence that dogs will surely be used to it. And after people start to use “PooTrap” on their dogs for a while, whenever the dogs poop with it, they would come happily in front of their owners to ask them to take the PooBag out of “PooTrap”. Dogs are really smart, aren’t they?

Yes, dogs are really smart. They know to be ashamed (or at least ‘not respected’) when some moron human straps a big ol’ bag on its butt. I mean, really. It took about 1 day of having a dog to figure out the hand-inside-the-bag quick n’ easy method of poop removal. And let’s be honest here- if you’re one of the people who are just too lazy and selfish to cart a bag around with you and just leave your crap bombs on the sidewalk, then you’re not bloody likely to deal with this thing, are you?

Especially since this is another of the FAQs:

Why it’s not as easy as your instruction video to put the “PooTrap” on my dog?

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*Sorry, couldn’t resist.

Several people have asked me if I was kidding and/or exaggerating about Bruiser and his froggie “problem.”

I could’ve retouched the first photo to get rid of the ‘possessed by demons’ look that’s so popular these days. I thought you should get the full-on, totally crazed brunt of the ugliness of addiction.

So we have a sad, sad confession to make.

We have an addict in the house. He simply cannot control himself. The sun starts to go down, and he starts to get the shakes. He runs to go stake out the spot where he gets his ‘junk.’ It’s started to affect the whole household. We try to physically prevent him from getting his fix, but his desperation makes him wily.

Sometimes he tries to hold back, even when his pusher tries to get him hopped (ha!) up:

But he always breaks down and has to lick the damned frog, which makes him start frothing at the mouth:

The first night it happened I freaked out, because there was a lot of foam. I mean a LOT. Like, “I think we’re rushing to the doggie hospital now” levels of foam. Instead I turned to google and quickly did a search, yelling out to the kitchen to see if he’d drink some water, which would rule out rabies (yes, of course he’s had his shots, but still) and a couple of other likely suspects.

A little more research and I determined that while he was off in the yard he must’ve picked up a hallucinogenic frog that had effects similar to LSD. Seriously. A description of someone’s ‘trip,’ having smoked some of the venom:

Objects appeared extremely distorted, colors were intensified and facial quirks were magnified, giving people a clown-like appearance. Perception of distance was extremely distorted; objects within arms reach seemed miles away. Height perceptions were also distorted, one minute I seemed like a giant compared to those around me, the next minute I seemed a dwarf in comparison. Light sources provoked an unusual reaction; they seemed surrounded by moving, prismatic colors. Walking was problematic.

The Google gods said that if he didn’t swallow it, he’d be okay, but if he did, we had big problems. After about 10 min, the froth quit flowing like river rapids, and we thought “Whew! Well, bet he won’t do that again!”

Yeah. Not so much.

He spent most of the rest day in the same spot he’d found the frog. Eventually, he figured out they’re nocturnal- now he starts his vigil about an hour before sundown- an addict is a persistent creature. He basically noses the frog around, barks at it a little, and I guess he must lick it because he does froth (you can see some on the pics above if you look at his mouth and the brick below), but not nearly so much as the first night.

We’ve tried keeping him inside, but he’s well aware of the ways of the catflaps, and he can be a focused little bugger. You can practically see him scratching his little stubby arms, shaking and whining, “but I need it, man!”

Clearly, we’re going to need to start up a Scared Straight program for toad tasters.

This falls into the good news/bad news category: Pratchett’s started talking! He’s been saying “Hello” with fair regularity, and he’s got a bunch of other words coming down the pipe. I’ve heard this stage called ‘birdie baby babble,’ which is about right- he sort of works on them when he’s alone, saying them over and over to himself, working it all out.

So, imagine my surprise when something new happened this weekend- he started yelling at the dogs…which made me realize how much Iyell at them, because now Pratch is beating me to it. We have a new dog next door, and whenever she starts yapping, Sammy and Bruiser have to join in, even though my dogs have no idea what they’re barking about. And this new dog yaps a lot.

But now, as start as they get cranked up, Pratch yells “S’mantha!”, followed by a bunch of stuff that’s not understandable yet, but will probably evolve into either “knock it off!” or “be quiet, dammit!”

So yeah, little birdies have big ears. Gonna have to start watching that. Again. It’s kind of like having a toddler all over again, and just when I’ve gotten used to the idea that Alison already knows all those words I’d rather she didn’t.

Alison has a new dog. A teeny weenie dog of exactly the sort I said I’d never have. I’m only interested in big dogs, with big barks. I don’t have any sheep for them to herd to earn their keep, but at least they can pretend to be my security system, right?

What the hell’s a 3lb (literally) mini-weiner gonna do for me? Nada.

But…you know… he really is totally endearing. Ridiculous, too. He has no idea of his size- he takes 67lb Sammy on with no hesitation. We haven’t figured out if he’s brave or just stupid.

So…presenting… BRUISER! (Alison’s name choice)

A little side-by-side comparison: