Saddest dog in the world

Come April, I will have had Arlo 3 years. A long way from the whimpering howling chicken he used to be. (He hated being alone).

Little Towns, Little Prayers

Little Towns Little Prayers from kate bryant on Vimeo.

Houdini Strikes!

Gazooks! Someone broke into the kitchen. How did he did do it?? Secret surveillance camera shall be hooked up tonight.

Breakfast!

beef, blueberries, grated squash, brown rice, cooked Swiss chard

A Week In The Life Ch. I

Sweltering Sky
The humidity steamrolled in, leaving no brow undampened in its wake. As well, it hampered ambition; perched a sweaty arm on the rooftop just above my window. Ninety two degrees swollen to feel like a hundred and two. My tiny desktop fan, though an earnest fellow, did little more than escort in the suffocating air.

Arlo sprawled on the floor, panting recklessly. I lay near comatose on too hot sheets, rummaged my brain, thankful Arlo hadn't passed out from heat stroke while I had earlier run out to an appointment. A cool place... For the both of us... Natch. We should head to the Dog Bar aka Brooklyn Ale House, champion of four-legged barflies. Of course I would bike. Arlo setting the pace next to me. That's how we roll.

We took the best shaded streets, creeped on at snail's pace, took frequent water breaks. Not five minutes in, we're accosted by a self-righteous screecher. She clamors out of a sleek black SUV, You shouldn't be bicycling with your dog! I thanked her and continued on. You idiot, you're abusing that dog!

It was one of those all too familiar situations we catch ourselves in. Two blocks later, my mind floods with all the things I should've said; put her in her place. But lo! She's actually looped around to scold me again. You idiot! I should call someone. That is just abusive. ABUSIVE. You're an idiot. IDIOT. THIS IS ABUSIVE. This time I'm armed with my reply: Well, do you want to give us a ride? You need to get off your bike. We're kinda going at a snail's pace. I think I know what my dog is capable of.

She's still screeching at us while we cruise halfway down the block. I'm wondering if she's going to drive around yet again to berate me some more, but we've already reached our destination, and the cool air inside awaits.

On Tenterhooks

Chewhound in unrare repose.

In the hasty minutes following my departure two nights ago, Arlo snuck to the cupboards. The wafting scent of a cooling vegetable pie fingering his hound nose, tugging at a never-sated hunger. Not so out of reach, he easily shifted loose the glass dish, disturbing its equilibrium. The subsequent crash sent shards scuttling to every corner of the tile floor, bespeckled ravenous morsels.

I came home to find the corpse remains of crushed cherry tomatoes among the broken plate, dried crimson footprints. Frustration and anxiety poisoning any rational thinking on my part. And there he is running up all too happy to have me home. And is he all right? And do I call a doctor? And why did I leave it there? And why did he eat the one thing I was planning on snacking on?

But thankfully, two days later, the glass left his system without episode. Anger turned into relief. The miracle of dog bellies.

How the Beast Sleeps

Arlo's New Organic Dog Food

When that stupid pet food recall swept the nation last year (this is in keeping with my thus far blog's theme of topics that were newsworthy before 2008), I'd initially felt some relief that I'd wisely invested in premium "natural" dog foods for the most part. Oh how easily they dupe me, because apparently "premium" just translates to "better marketing" to lure in anxious pet owners like me. Not that I was all that surprised.

And so I shopped for alternatives, eventually weaning my dog completely off dry kibble. While I'd experimented with raw food diets and other more expensive approaches, I wasn't really in a position to completely switch to homemade meals or anything — not everyday anyway. What I needed was a balance between cost effective (and convenient) cheapish food vs. real whole foods. And damned if my dog was gonna eat better than me.

I mean, what did dogs eat back in olden times, or on farms? (I frequently find myself mulling over these same such scenarios when faced with a larder full of mismatched items; i.e., How would a vegan make this quiche? What if i was lactose intolerant? How would Iron Chef prepare a dish of beets, miso paste and spaghetti noodles...? You get the picture.)

So we switched him over to a variety of canned dog foods like Merrick, Abady, Wellness, Avoderm, but none were really, you know, being digested all that well.

But Lo and Behold, just a few weeks ago, do I stumble upon a new dehydrated dog food produced by a company called The Honest Kitchen out in California (I know, shipping fuel, sad face). Just add water, and presto! A meal of "hormone-free chicken, organic flaxseed, potatoes, celery, sweet potatoes, apples, alfalfa, organic kelp, honey, zucchini, green beans, cabbage, bananas, papayas, yogurt, basil, garlic and rosemary" can be ready for your dog in ten minutes for just a little more than what it costs to feed the guy premium canned. And he seems to have acclimated to it pretty readily with no ill side effects, i.e., diarrhea. (Sigh of relief. Capital D smiley face!)

Added bonus, I no longer have to worry if the corn-derived lining in cans is harming him since dogs (I've read online) cannot digest corn. (I have Michael Pollen to thank for that latest bit of paranoia. Thanks.)

What can I say, I'm also kind of a sucker for their "natural" packaging.

Also, if you were wondering, it tastes like a low salt version of Lipton chicken & veg soup. Arlo told me.

I found the stuff at District Dog in Greenpoint. Word.