Lennox

There is a dog called Lennox in Belfast, Ireland, with a noose around his neck.

He’s been living like that for two years. In a kennel after being ripped away from his family for simply looking like a Pitball Terrier. His registration papers, issued by the same council that did the impounding, say he’s a Bull Dog. He has done nothing to cause the community concern. There was no reason for his detention or death sentence.

News on Twitter, Facebook and other media sites have been saying for the last week that he’s due to be killed tonight. That’s every night for the last week. They also say that his family have been told they are not allowed to visit him in his final hours and his ashes will be posted to them. We don't know the details of what's happening currently, but you can be sure the basics are true.

We had a similar case recently in Melbourne, Australia. Luckily, that dog was returned to his owners after an investigation.

Both of these stories have occurred because of one thing. Breed Specific Legislation.

Frankly it’s rubbish.

How can you punish an animal based purely the misfortune of it's birth.

Do we punish people born into poor, bad neighbourhoods purely because their heritage tells us they are likely to commit crime. No, we wait until they do, if they do. If they do, then they get imprisoned. Why can't we extend the same courtesy to dogs?

Throughout my life I've seen different breeds come under fire. Dobermans, Rottweilers, German Shepherds and now PitBulls.

Any dog has the ability to be vicious. One of the scariest dogs I ever met was a Pomeranian. Cute and fluffy to look at, but if you got within a five feet radius of his ‘territory’ and that was whereever he happened to be, he’d latch on and only let go if you poured water down his nose holes. Sounds cruel, but that dog did damage. I wouldn’t go near it, or Santa as he was named. The owner would say, ‘Oh, never mind dear, he’s just being protective.’

That dog lived to be 16 years old with his owner defending his name, the whole neighbourhood wanted him gone, he was a menace and proved it many times. I was lucky enough not to be scared for life. He was a Pom, how dangerous could a Pom be? He never did, but I’m pretty sure if a toddler had ever wandered into his range, he could have done fatal damage.

Of course, the council wasn’t interested. We had a vendetta against a harmless, yappy, little fluffball according to them. You can bet your butt if it had been something bigger, they’d have been around like a shot.

I have friends that have bull breeds. My friends are calm, loving and most of all, leaders of their packs. The dogs are smoochy, friendly and well behaved with other dogs and humans alike.

If we need to stop anything, it’s stupid owners that don’t know how to treat dogs to get the best from them.

BSL doesn’t work, it’s a faulty system that punishes arbitrarily. Think about what you're doing governments and councils of the world.

Most of all though, I'd like to say, if he isn’t dead already, let Lennox go!





Update: 23.58pm Lennox has been put to sleep in Belfast http://www.belfastcity.gov.uk/news/news.asp?id=3109

An odd question

I’ve come to the conclusion that some people have a strange notion of morality.

Today I was asked while making myself a cup of tea, ‘What would do if you found out a disabled child had Cara?’

Everyone in the office knows I'm looking for my dog and often it's used as a conversation starter. You know the sort, 'how was your weekend?' 'have you found your dog yet?' etc.

Today it was about my ethics.

It was easy to answer, ‘I’d take her back and give the parents a bollocking for teaching their child it's ok to take something that isn't theirs’.

The woman that asked me the question is the mother of an autistic child and thought it was awful that I would deprive the child of a loved pet and have the nerve to talk to the parents about how to raise their child.

I tried to explain that had the parents done the right thing in the first place the child would not have had time to get attached to the pet and therefore would not be suffering with her being returned to her rightful owner.

The woman remained adamant that I was in the wrong.

So I asked her. ‘What would you do if someone took your child and didn’t return it, and it become the companion to a child in the new house, what would you do?

‘I’d take my child back.’ She replied.

‘My point exactly.’

‘Oh, it’s not the same’, she said, ‘It’s just a dog.’

At that point I turned to walk away, but she called me back and said, ‘You treat your animals too much like they are human.’

All I could say as I walked away again, was, ‘at least animals aren’t arseholes’.

I don’t think she’ll be speaking to me in the kitchen anymore ;)

How would you feel?

Would you take an idling car home and look after it? Or would you leave it be or maybe keep an eye on it for a while to make sure it wasn't stolen?

If you found a child wandering in a park would you take it home and keep it for yourself? Or would you try and find the parents and if not able to find them call the police?

Would you pick up a stray dog, take it home and not tell anyone?

The chances are you answered with a solution to the first two questions and maybe or yes to the third.

If you don't take the dog to the vet or call the local dog catcher (every council has one) to see if there is a microchip present, you could be keeping someone's child.

There are many excuses for animals not being handed in when found but here are a couple of the more common ones. I'd like to set the record straight on a couple:

1. It's just a stray dog I found. So I'll give it a good home.

Yes, it may well be a stray in need of a warm bed, good food and a human to love, but it may also be a beloved pet with all those things waiting at home. It's family may be fretting about the whereabouts after it freaked out for some reason (storm, fireworks etc.) and somehow got out of the usually secure house/garden. The dog you're 'caring for' may be looking at you and thinking, 'I just want to go home'. Dogs have a knack for escaping seemly inescapable places when frightened.

2. If I hand it in, it will be euthanised.

A stray is given at least two weeks to be found by its owners. If the animal is micro-chipped (and many are these days) it's likely that they will find each other very quickly and pet and human will be very grateful to you, they may even give you a reward. As the finder you can tell the pound/dog catcher you'll adopt if the owners aren't found so as to avoid the animal being put to sleep. Give it a chance to find it's family first though.

3. I'm afraid I'll get into trouble if I hand the animal in, I kept it over the weekend.

It's highly unlikely you'll get into trouble for looking after a dog over a weekend. If you keep the dog for weeks or months before handing it, then maybe you will, maybe you won't. It's a chance you take. Best to hand any animals you find in straight away with the offer to continue care should they not be reclaimed.

4. How do I know the dog or cat is micro-chipped?

You take it to the local vet and they will scan it for you free of charge. If you can’t get to the vet, call the local dog catcher, they will come to you.

Think about how you'd feel if a loved one went missing and you didn't know what had become of them. Would you worry day and night if they were dead or alive and safe?
Would you try and find them by any means possible?
Would you sleep well at night?

If you have an animal that you found, please take it to a vet to find out if there is someone doing and wondering all of the above.

Stages of Grief and Loss

We can all expect to experience grief or feelings of loss for something or someone at some point in our lives. Chances are you already have. A close family member, a relationship, a job that unexpectedly left you wondering what to do next or even a favorite tool that went poof followed by the faint smell of burning rubber.

Regardless of the loss you will experience the various stages of loss and grief.

There are no rules as to how long we experience each stage, just as there are no rules how long the overall process takes. We may pass through them quickly, hours or days or it may take longer, months or years, even the rest of your life.

Just as there are no rules as to the length of time it takes, there are also no rules about the order. They may even happen all at once.

I recently have experienced a rapid transition through the first four stages, with the first three happening concurrently and the forth settling in for the duration;
• Shock and Denial
• Pain and Guilt
• Anger
• Depression

Shock and Denial comes in that moment when you realize you’ve lost someone or something.

A phone call, a hand on yours over the bed, no response to your calls, the moment you hear the poof and smell that smell.

No matter if you where expecting it or not. You’ll still feel the moment of shock or numb disbelief, that is immediately followed with a ‘No’

Shock is usually followed by Guilt and Pain. It will come in the form of self-blame. If only I’d taken more notice, if only I’d acted sooner, if only I’d taken her with me, if only I’d had it serviced…if only if only.

These losses are rarely your fault, but our nature is to blame ourselves, if only for a short time. Although these feelings can be excruciating and unbearable, it is important to resist chemical assistance, such as prescription medication, illegal drugs and certainly alcohol, despite your desire to drown your sorrows.

It will seem as if life has no way to continue at this time.

This Pain and Guilt gives way to Anger. You may lash out at those that love you, blame people for the loss that were only trying to help. Blame others, yourself or even the lost.

The doctors failed to spot the problem. If only they had started treatment earlier. If only you hadn’t stopped for that ice-cream. If someone is ‘caring’ for her when they should have taken her to the vet, if I find that person, well, I won’t be responsible…

This is a time to seek assistance from a professional, as your emotions may not control whom you lash out at, and permanent damage may be done to familial relationships or close friendships.

You may come down from Anger and going straight in Depression or you may flip-flop between guilt and anger for a while before the Depression and Loneliness hits you.

This time will be marred with the ‘I wish’ sentiment and times of reflection. I wish I could have stayed a moment longer. I wish I had told her I love her more. The bed is so big now. I wish I’d had the name and number tag made sooner.

Self-isolation is common now and it’s important you aren’t talked out of these periods by well meaning friends and family. This is an important time for you to reflect on the gravity of the loss you have experienced.

After a time, and Depression can be the longest stage, you’ll start to look forward to life again. Once again you’ll have Hope. The hope will seep into the gaps between the sad, reflective moments and you’ll find yourself thinking, ‘This will end’.

You’ll never forget but life will go on. While the new Bosh drill doesn’t have the same heft as the old one, it still drills holes and takes that labour out of screwing things together.

You’ll miss your loved one but you’ll always have the memories you shared together.

She will come home to me.

I’m currently sitting between Anger and Depression and Loneliness. Cara went missing on the 1st April during the thunder. I have done all that I can and can afford to at this time.

My friends have helped me negotiate Guilt by telling me I did nothing wrong. And the power of social media is helping me find her along with posters, letterbox drops, door knocks and tweeting.

The thought however that someone is ‘caring’ for her because she’s cute, fills me with rage, however. There is no conclusion to this part of the tale.

Grief. We all experience it at some point in our lives. Some experience early in life with the passing of a beloved pet, others are older the first time. For some it is fleeting, others it is everlasting. It won’t make you stronger but it will help you process all that life throws at you. Because as much as I joke about my Dad’s favourite saying, it’s true: We are born, we do suffer and we do die. And if we get to experience love, happiness and loss along the way we are indeed, very lucky.

Footnote: This is a speech I have written as an assignment for Toastmasters.

Moggies and Mongrels

Yesterday I went to the Opera House with Cara to take part in a photo opportunity for Oscar’s Law. The founder Debra Tranter was visiting from her home in Melbourne, so it was a great chance to meet her and little Oscar, the dog that started it all.

It was lovely to meet a woman so passionate about her dog that she endured a little hard time to save him. (You can read more about Oscar and his Law, here).

Debra Tranter and Oscar

I’ve always been a fan of animals. I have a few myself, that I consider to be my family. This week when I didn’t get paid due to an office snafu, I brought food for them, before myself. Some may say this was daft, but then those people don’t know me very well, and it’s unlikely they ever will because they clearly aren’t ‘my sort of people’. Everyone of the people I met yesterday would buy food for the pets before themselves in a pinch.

The premise behind Oscar’s Law is stopping the sale of live companion animals (puppy and kittens) in pet shops and ban puppy farms. This in turn will reduce the amount of impulse buys and animals being put down in shelters. It will stop unethical and cruel breeding practices of breeders out to make a buck or several.

Reducing the number of animals bred, could also, have an impact of problems such as the kidnap and murder of little Lilly. Without impulse buying people would be able to do their research between choosing a puppy after seeing it with its mother and picking it up, and therefore know exactly what they are getting into. Up to twenty years with a family member that never matures beyond that of a six year old human. You can’t leave them alone with no stimulus, and they need exercise.

In Australia, 250,000 companion animals are put to sleep per annum in a country with a population of 22 million people. Compare that with the UK that has a population of 59 million people that enthuses about 36,000 per annum. In Australia, you are nine times more likely to know an animal that is put down than those in the UK (any statisticians or maths whizzes out there, I’m happy for you to check my sums ;-). It’s a horrifying number.

I’m not unrealistic, I know that this will never disappear. I acknowledge there will always be a place in society for pounds, but the volume of our four legged friends passing through them can surely be reduced significantly.

This time of year is the busiest for pounds. Those Christmas presents are starting to grow. With children and parents away from home most of the day, now they’ve gone back to school and work, the bored pets are starting to chew shoes, walls and sofas. They are pooping where they shouldn’t because they haven’t been out of the back yard for a week and energy levels have soared to the point where they’re jumping out of the poorly secured garden. They are barking all night because they are alone and frightened. These pets end up in the pound where they are enthused, because they are unwanted.

What you can do to help out our furry friends:
· Visit Oscar’s Laws and sign the petition
· Foster an animal if you can, it gives them a better chance of finding a new home.
· If you can’t foster donate to those that can. It doesn’t have to be cash, put a couple of cans of food in your shopping trolley each week and give that.
· If you plan on adding a pet to your household; Adopt. Don’t Shop. There are always plenty of animals just crying out for a loving home in the pounds and they aren’t all moggies and mongrels. My Cara is a pure bred Chihuahua, with a little time and effort you can find exactly what you’re looking for and help to save a live.

Read and be outraged. Word of mouth is the best way to pass the message that it isn’t ‘just’ an animal, that they are sentient beings that feel pain, love and abandon.

The Doglet*

I have experienced a few proud moments recently. I don’t have children of the two legged variety, but I consider my four legged companions to be my fur family. So when the newest addition to the family has achieved monumental things, I find I swell with pride and want to share those things with others that I think will care.

So far, only one person has been happy (thank you Nicole) to hear about the first time she had a wee somewhere other than the back garden. The first time she relaxed enough to eat something while we were out, when I finally got to use one of the little blue bags to pick up a micro poo for first time ever, and when she went to someone else to check them out instead of hiding behind my feet.

Parents of human children tell anyone who will listen when their babies do something for the first time, the first word, potty training, feeding and greener than green puke. Actually some will even think you want to hear about the tearing, cracked nipples and sleepless nights, too. Why do people look at me like I’m insane for being happy about notable moments in the life of my dog? She’s had a rough trot so far in life; she deserves some enthusiasm for her endeavours.

Also, as a side note I would like to add that Chihuahua’s don’t have the warm fluffy undercoat of hair that keeps them warm, she has to wear a t-shirt or jumper to stay warm.



I’m off to play ‘mousey mousey’ with someone who cares :-)


*credit for the term ‘The Doglet’ goes to JLH or Oxford, England. He heard her snorting in her sleep the other night while we were on the phone and he asked, ‘Is that the doglet?’

Probation is over

I told you yesterday how I had officially adopted Cara, well, it seems she heard me because last night and today she’s thrown all the previously excellent behaviour out the window and started behaving like a dog.

Last night I took her for a walk and swim at Baywater beach to celebrate her new family status and the weather was somewhat inclement. Ok, it was shite, raining, windy and grey. But she needed a walk and we were already there. I changed into shorts and flip flops ready to paddle out to a swimming depth and started walking across the field towards the sand. We were halfway across when she turned back toward the car and legged it. I called her, but she completely ignored me. I took chase and caught up, just before the car park. I carried her to the sand. Once on the sand, she was giving every indication that I was clearly insane for expecting her to be happy about the situation of walking in heavy breeze and rain. There was no way she would enter the water despite all my calling in a sweet voice and tapping of thighs. I had go get her. I waded out to mid calf and tried again, she was having none of it, and looked like she was going to bolt again, so I carried her into the water. She swam straight back to the shore. She made it back before me and started running in the general direction of the car, before stopping and having a shake.

The lesson I learnt. Cara does not tolerate wintery weather, it is unacceptable.

Today, she came into the office with me again. I’m going out straight after work and thought it would be nice for the friend I’m meeting to see her again. She was excellent all morning, her usual quiet self. No one knew she was there. At lunch we went for a walk, she smooched a slug and had a wee. When we got back to the office though, she was feeling brave. She came out of her bag home and started to wander about. She wouldn’t stay in, until one of the secretaries came around and saw her, got all cutesy (imagine in your head a voice so high it’s almost out of hearing range for a human) ‘You’re so gorgeous! Yes, you are!’ She started to shake and went back into her bag to sleep and recover.

The lesson I learnt. I don’t think I can bring Cara to work anymore :-(

'You never told me I had to stay in my bag!'

Forever Home

Today I officially adopted Cara. I transferred the required sum of cash into the account of lady I was fostering her from and her microchip will be transferred into my name.

She sits under my desk in her travel baggie, as I type, licking her feet. She comes to the office with me two days a week now, Tuesdays and Thursdays. She is well accepted by human and dogs alike and is generally adored due to her amazingly quiet behaviour and her overall cute factor.

The cats ignore her.

In celebration of her new forever home, I’m taking her swimming at Baywater on the Northern Beach after work.

If anyone cares to send her a Congratulations card, please mark them for the attention of:

Miss Cara ‘The Killer’ Sorrell

Quiet Mouse

For the last few days I have taken Cara into work. No one is aware she’s even present. She sleeps in her baggie by my feet and doesn’t make a sound. I flip the lid down when I leave my desk. Not a peep.

I know neither of my co-workers are allergic, as C has a German Shepherd and an aging Spaniel and F, while currently dogless, grew up with them and is looking at adding a new family member soon. The passengers on the train though, I cannot say if they are or not. No one around me sneezed this morning, so I’m going to hazard a guess that we were in the clear for today.

Some guy did get on the train wearing a surgical mask though. Mate, if you’re sick enough to think it might be a bad idea to spread your germs, stay at home! Work won’t want you there coughing in your cubicle, your co workers won’t appreciate you trying to be a hero and soldiering on. I’m pretty sure everyone in the train carriage was thinking the same as me. ‘Go home, you idiot!’

Anyway, I digress.

This is Cara’s second trip to the office. She also accompanied me on Tuesday when I had the car serviced. She is more relaxed today.

At lunch time we popped out for a walk to the little park near the Harbour Bridge. While still quite shy, I didn’t have to take her out of the bag, she walked out on her own accord. She followed me for a couple of loops then had a sit down. A couple more loops, at this point I should tell you this park is more a patch of grass no bigger than your average UK back garden, then she went off and sniffed the trees herself. This is a big step forward in her development. Of course, she realised I was more than two feet away and ran after me, but she did venture towards them on her own again.

I do need to get her used to having a wee when we’re out. At the moment she hangs on until we get home. This is unacceptable because it means we can’t go away over night just yet and I’m not sure it’s entirely good for her. At the moment it seems she’s too afraid to wee (or poo) anywhere other than her backyard. Very human behaviour. How do I break her of this?

On that, she won’t eat either when we’re out. Not even the tiny liver treats that she loves so much. She’ll only drink if I pour water into my cupped hand.

I know this is all part of the solicitation that she needs to go through in order to get her living life to the full, so I shall persist.

She’ll continue to have train trips, beach visits (she had her first experience of the surf on Tuesday), trips to the movies (I’m not sure understood the nuances of ‘Rango’) and car trips wherever I go until she pees and poos with abandon and chases a ball like a dog ought too.