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The Divide Between Animals & Humankind (or: Where Myth Meets Truth) — Guest Post by Ann Bennett

Ann Bennett is out to give science a good (and fun!) name at Science Ladybug. ASo Much To Choose From, she blogs about writing, her thoughts & experiences, and so much more. Welcome, Ann!


Sometimes, late in the evening, I can hear my father’s voice. Playfully he spoke in rhymes and shared beloved stories. The ones I loved best were stories from his memory which had been passed down through generations.

This is one of my favorites.

When the world was young, all the animals got terribly mad at humans for killing them for food and never thanking them. So great was that anger, they decided to never speak to humans again. The Earth began to separate between them.
     The humans were so sorry. The animals weren’t. They were furious with the humans. But the dog remembered their friend. So before the divide was too great, bravely they leapt to stand with humans. It was a risk. They may not have made it. But they did and were so happy, although they could no longer speak the same language as the humans.
     Cats were also fond of humans. Seeing what the dogs had done, and being able to leap much better than the dog, they too made the jump. There was a greater loss of communication, but they were together.
     Plants also felt much sympathy for people, and created remedies for their afflictions. 
     In time, most animals forgave but did not forget to be cautious of people. They left people alone if the people left them alone. Some of the larger, powerful animals have no patience with humans. Only some of the smaller ones continue the fight today. When a spider bites for no reason, it still has the anger of its ancestors.

This story, deceptively simple, holds several truths:

 1. The dog is a loyal, dutiful companion for humans. 


Dogs historically were used for protection and hunting. The relationship between dogs and humans has been mutually beneficial. The scientific proof is both species have had brain loss from their reliance on one another. Dogs have had a twenty percent loss and humans have had a ten percent loss.

A terrier mix of mine who was named Muffin was a better mouser than any cat I have owned. All of my dogs are mousers; a few have been good at it. A yellow lab which I named Matilda would bring home rabbits she had caught. We all loved how she would pick a pear from a tree for a good snack. She loved it when you peeled a banana and gave it to her.


After taking her in, I had heard she had been traveling up and down the road in which I live looking for a home. She was in pretty good shape when I got her, so her hunting skills must've been quite good. What I have learned from rescuing dogs is that dumping dogs affects their mental health. Like humans, they suffer terribly from deprivation, abandonment and abuse.

I never thought Matilda would stop her constant whining to pledge her fealty to me. It was about five years before she was confident that she belonged. I had someone who was a pureblood fan who wanted her. I did not give her to them in that I never wanted Matilda to be abandoned again. Matilda was a noble dog who was a humble boss of my pack.

Matilda was a friend and companion to my dog Partner. Partner was incredibly afraid of hands, probably due to abuse before my father rescued her. Partner was odd and the other dogs knew it. But Partner had a good friend in Matilda. He would lick the back of my legs on our daily walks. Matilda also trained my Pitbull puppy with a broken leg to become the kind dog she was born to be.

I adopted a pregnant Chihuahua mix. This dog and her puppies have been boon companions to elderly and handicapped family members that live with me. Their antics bring much cheer, and no one sneaks up on us. Our house is in the country and not visible from the road. These dogs warn potential bad guys from the house.



 2. Dogs communicate with their body language and vocalizations. 


Dogs do have a limited understanding of our conversations. My dogs all understand the word walk. One time when I wanted to disguise my intent to take them for a walk in a few moments, I used the word walk-walk real fast. Their eyes got big and they were watching me; they'd heard their favorite word.

Dogs also are keen to recognize our emotional states. Part of training a dog is to project a confident energy. 

Dogs are so attuned to us, in fact, that they can predict low blood sugar levels in diabetics, and potential seizures. They're also trained as assistance dogs for the handicapped.

 3. Dogs have stronger communication skills and are more domesticated than cats. 


Dogs were domesticated around 10,000 years ago, and the cat about 7000 years ago. When man began to rely on agriculture, cats became useful in dealing with mice that fed on stored foods. The relationship with cats can be quite intense, but cats retain a much more wild nature than the dog.

 4. Many pharmaceuticals are plant-based. 


My great-grandmother had various cures based on wild and cultivated plants. My mother remembers her making a tea from roots as a child for health benefits. Many medications we take today originated from plants. Biochemists learned to synthesize these compounds in the lab and similar compounds that derive the same result.


 5. Wild animals avoid humans. 


During hunting season, we know what is being hunted. They show up on my property. It is interesting how the deer and turkey know that no hunting is occurring on my property. Animals can smell us and instinctively move away.

You read stories of an animal attacking a human. They only attack when they have been cornered, or when protecting their young. In North America, we have venomous species of snakes. But none of them will seek us out. It is important to note that there are aggressive animals and/or species. I have read the black mamba in Africa is aggressive. You always have to consider the temperament of the individual, the temperament of the species, and respect the fear response of a wild animal.

One huge tragedy in teaching children that snakes and other animals have value is the unwitting teaching children to not using caution. I had two four year old boys run to my dogs. Luckily, the Pitbull and terrier mix loved children. They stood there gently and allowed little hands to pet them. I did caution them (and Mom) that it is not good to pet strange dogs.


Sometimes what is considered aggression is misinterpreted. The Coach whip snake is very nosy. If it sees you, it will chase you to keep looking at you. The story is they will wrap their bodies around you and whip you to death. I have encountered these snakes in a peach orchard. Yes, they are nosy.

The adage of making a lot of noise to scare snakes is a lousy way to run off a snake. Their sense of hearing is terrible. The best way to avoid snakes is to look carefully for them. Wear appropriate snake-proof footwear when moving through heavy brush. I use a walking stick to check out heavy brush. When clearing heavy brush, I wait until after the first freeze of the year if possible. I don’t like to accidentally kill snakes with my machinery. A good snake is not dead.

But back to my dad’s story. Many folktales pass on wisdom and are relevant. In school, a visiting nurse related how some people in the country had placed spider webs on a wound. She talked about how unsanitary it was. When I proudly told the story at the dinner table, my dad said he remembered that done as a child. The spider web was used to stop bleeding. Spider webs are rich in vitamin K to stop bleeding and were used like gauze to help wounds heal.

Certainly modern medicine is much better than folk remedies. But these folk remedies and stories carry much wisdom and truth that should not be discounted.


 ~ * ~ 


Thank you so much, Ann, for sharing this story and its wisdom, passed on through your father to you—and now, through you, to us. I love how it underlines the truths hidden in myth and legend... Seems to me that's always the case, isn't it? Then again, in Mexico we're pretty big on folk 'medicine'; I have absolute faith in teas and infusions, and herbal remedies for pretty much anything. (Disclaimer: my great-grandmother was a curandera, a medicine woman. Yeah.) 

It's a hard line to walk, though. How to balance science with myth? When do we listen to Grandma (or Great-Grandma, as the case may be...)—and when to the doctor? Sometimes they might be saying the same thing with different vocabulary, but... what if they're not? 

What say you, readers? Do you have a herbal first-aid kit at home, or is your faith more at home with modern medicine? What folk tales do you remember being told as a child? Was your father a storyteller? 

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts and feedback!


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The Story of Little Leo (and How He Adopted Us) — Guest Post by Susan Brody @unpubYA

It all started when cancer took our beloved Murphy from us in February. He wasn't quite 11 years old.

Murphy & me
We'd had three months of warning that this was coming. In November, he had collapsed. I was the only one home. I scooped him up and drove like a lunatic to the vet. The vet did a sonogram and showed me the unmistakable outline of the large tumor on his spleen. He could probably save him this time, the vet told me, but it would only be a matter of weeks or months until the tumor ruptured and no one would be able to save him. Every day from here on in would be a gift.

The vet did save him that time, and then performed the same miracle once again in December. But in January Murphy began steadily losing weight and becoming weaker, despite his six daily medications. When he collapsed again on February 6th, we knew it was the end. Despite all the time we'd had to prepare, once he was gone no one in my family could imagine what we would do without him.

But we still had another dog at home that we had to take care of: 8-year-old Finney, our younger Goldendoodle, who from the age of 8 weeks had never known life without Murphy. And, unlike us, he didn't understand what had happened.
Finney (left) and Murphy


The month of February passed in a blur of tears. But at some point along the way, my 19-year-old daughter began campaigning for us to get another dog. It wasn't that she imagined we could ever replace Murphy; it was that she was very worried about Finney not having a companion. Gradually, my husband and I began to think about it, and we both came up with the same idea: that the best way to honor Murphy's generous spirit would be to save a life by adopting a shelter dog.

By the end of March we felt ready to begin our search. My daughter insisted that we look for a dog close to Finney's age, so that they would have roughly similar life expectancies. My husband and daughter both have pet allergies, so we tried to look for poodle mixes, but they were few and far between. And possibly the hardest part of all this would be that Finney has always been very selective about other dogs, and not in the least shy about making his preferences known.

We hit our fair share of bumps along this journey. Then, on April 12th, my husband emailed me at work: "Is this Cockapoo worth inquiring about?" It was a little guy, about 7 years old, who when rescued had been so neglected, his hair so hopelessly filthy and matted, that he had to be shaved down to the skin.
Leo, when he was rescued...

But he was described as friendly and affectionate, and we decided it was worth the hour-long trip to the shelter to see whether he and Finney could get along.

The two of them seemed perfectly comfortable together right from the start of our meet-and-greet, and the three of us humans all fell in love with the little guy, who had recently been given a name at the shelter but who clearly didn't recognize it. When we signed the adoption agreement that day, the woman at the shelter urged us to give him yet another name, and we came up with Leo.
At our meet-and-greet. (The white furry cutie in the back is Finney.)

We didn't bring Leo home that day because the following weekend we were going to take a long-planned trip to Washington, D.C., visiting our adult son and his girlfriend. We weren't staying at a pet-friendly hotel, and we couldn't leave little Leo in a kennel his first weekend with us, so we arranged to pick him up the following Sunday on our way back from Washington.

Everything went smoothly that day. Leo didn't display any recognizable emotion—not fear, not excitement, nothing. He sat straight up on my daughter's lap in the back seat the whole way home, looking out the window. He didn't make a sound during the hour-long drive, and it was impossible to tell what was going on in his mind.

When we got home and out of the car, my daughter and I immediately attached his leash and took him for a walk around the block. That seemed to go fine. Meanwhile, my husband left to go pick up Finney from the kennel where he had spent the weekend.

We finished our walk and brought Leo into the back yard, and that was when I realized how freaked out he was. He wouldn't go farther than a small corner of the yard, no matter how much we encouraged him to explore. And when I brought him inside the house and put him down on the floor to sniff around, he went right back out to the yard again. I finally put his leash back on him, which he seemed to find comforting, and walked him around the house a little before bringing him back outside.
Leo in the backyard, the day we brought him home.

And that was when my husband pulled up in the driveway with Finney in the car. I panicked. If Leo was so traumatized by his new surroundings without another dog there, what would happen when he encountered Finney, who is three times his size? I instinctively scooped Leo up in my arms and braced myself for Finney to come bursting into the yard and finding the little intruder. A few seconds later, Finney did burst in, but the strangest thing happened. He walked right past me and Leo as if we weren't there. No reaction whatsoever. Had all the dogs in my life suddenly turned into zombies?

I figured that the two of them were going to have to meet sooner or later, so I put Leo down on the ground. Finney continued to act as if Leo were invisible, and Leo didn't show a whole lot of interest in Finney, either. I couldn't believe how nonchalant they were both acting. In fact, Finney's arrival seemed to make Leo feel more comfortable; he willingly followed into the house and started checking the place out.

That night, and the next day, I kept waiting for the shit to hit the fan between them, but it never did. And it still hasn't. Finney has been a saint about this attention-grabbing little interloper, and Leo quickly started acting as if he'd known Finney his whole life.

Things weren't perfect. Leo pooped in the house twice. It's been very had to convince him that whatever food is in Finney's bowl is the same as what's in his own bowl, not some magical elixir. But, overall, it's been a smoother ride than we ever imagined it could be. When we took them for a hike the following weekend, Leo just followed Finney around like an old pro.
Leo's first hike

Leo's hair is growing back, and he's a healthy little boy who would be happy to sit on his new people's laps 24/7. I would have to say that, after 10 days of living together, we've all really adopted each other.
The family

And I feel sure that, somewhere, Murphy is watching and smiling.

 ~ * ~ 

Thank you so much, Susan! Yes, I agree; wherever Murphy is, he must be so happy that you opened your home, and your hearts, to little Leo. There's so many positive things about this experience... You did a fine, fine job at all sorts of levels. I'd love to get into the details of how this magic happened—Finney's reaction, for instance, is a lesson in itself—so here's the plan: I'd like to invite this little community to join me in assimilating the learning here, and in a few days, once people have had a chance to read, comment, ask questions, mull it all over, I'll put up a follow-up post on bringing rescue dogs home using your story as illustration. Sound like a good idea? Oh, I hope so!

Thanks again for sharing this here. Much love and light to your beautiful family!


Susan Brody blogs at TheArtofNotGettingPublished, tweets as @unpubYA, and can also be found on G+

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#AtoZChallenge Reflections on the #Dog Rescue Series


It’s been 12 days since the last A2Z post went up, and I’m still in full-out PTA2Z (aka post-traumatic A2Z disorder). Even the sporadic like on FB feels like lifting a bag of cement. Twelve days and the house is still a mess. The dogs still need baths. We still haven't returned to our regular treks-and-hikes schedule. Twelve days, and my brain still feels fried. Twelve freakin' days and I still haven't finished replying to comments!!!!

Seeing as this happens every single year, the question’s just begging to be asked: Was it worth it?

One hundred percent. The A2Z Challenge is always worth it—the increased audience, the exciting new blogs we find to follow, the new friendships that bloom and enrich our blogging lives. But, for me, this year, on this blog, the Challenge was particularly special to me. 

 ~ FIRST ~ 

This blog had fallen into abandon. Before the Theme Reveal post, I’d only published twice this year. Twice. And in 2015, I posted only six times. Even at my main blog I post pretty sporadically, but… six times? In one whole year? That hardly qualifies as blogging at all!

It’s never been about having a huge audience here; dogs are a personal thing for me, and when I started this blog back in 2013, I was quite content to keep it low-profile. It's my Life In Dogs, after all, and probably of not much interest to anyone beyond other dog lovers, and then only some of those (I, for instance, don't follow a lot of pet bloggers). 

But, small audience or large, the intention of this blog was always to chronicle life with my dogs, to keep track of their development, and of the learning they bring to me. How each of them has shaped my life. In order to do that, I need to post at least semi-regularly. I need to create the habit. The Challenge helped me not just get back into the groove of dog-writing, but also sparked all sorts of ideas for future posts—and connected me with some truly lovely blogger dog & rescue lovers who have succumbed to my arts of persuasion and will be guest-posting about their own stories here soon. This Sunday, for instance, we'll have Susan Brody of TheArtofNotGettingPublished (I love that title!) with the story of Leo, the rescue dog she adopted during the Challenge—and which serves as perfect illustration of what it's like to bring a rescue dog home. And next week Ann Bennett, of awesome blogs Science Ladybug and So Much to Choose From, is coming by to share a story her dad told her a long time ago, a sort of fable about the rift between animals and humans—and how to breach it.

 ~ SECOND ~ 

I never expected a theme as obscure as Dog Rescue to have the reach it did. Visits to the blog skyrocketed last month, way above visits in April 2014 (the last A2Z Challenge this blog participated in).

Over 6,000 views last month! April 2014, the other, earlier, spike to the left, had only 2,579 views.
(Which back then, seemed like OMG, so many!)
The blog's top five all-time most popular posts—since the beginning of time. All from this April's Challenge.
(Please note No. 5 is Michele Truhlik's guest post for W — congratulations, Michele!!! And THANK YOU!)
And not just visits. I mean, if you signed up for the Challenge, visits to your blog will skyrocket; your link is in the A2Z list, and at least a fifth of participating bloggers will click on it. But commenting… that’s another story. And I’m happy to report that those didn’t just reach all-time highs, but showed a huge increase in repeats. Over 70% of the people who commented once came back to comment again. And over 30% of them became regular visitors (3x a week or more) during April.

I’m… honored beyond what any words can express. Thank you.

 ~ THIRD ~ 

Urged by several of you lovely readers who said (and said again, and again) that this series on dog rescue should be a book, I worked up the courage to mention it, totally nonchalant and as if in passing, to my publisher. I even qualified it with a, “… but it’s probably not your cup of tea, right?” Well, guess what? It is his cup of tea.

Yay!

Therefore, coming soon to your favorite online retailer: The A-to-Z of Dog Rescue, book version.


Well, soon-ish. There's still a lot of work to be done before these posts are print-ready... Edits, expansion on topics, add-ons (thanks, Jeffrey, for the brilliant suggestion about adding rescue stories to illustrate... real-life examples will make a world of difference, I think... and maybe also help the book reach a larger audience).

So, again, thank you—this time for pushing the issue of the book. Never would have happened without you. And I look forward to sharing the progress with you… It’s something you helped to create :)

A huge Thank You from the whole Life In Dogs family.

How about you? Was your April successful? Any powerful lessons you want to share? Join the Reflections hop—and, if you already have, I’ll see you at your blog soon!

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