Riding Shotgun

You know it's serious when the dog is riding shotgun twitter.com/SEALofHonor/st…
— SEALofHonor (@SEALofHonor) April 26, 2013

A Dog Named "Tank"

This is a story about a dog named " Tank " and how one man found out about how much a dog can mean to a soldier.


A Dog Named "Tank"

I recently went to a local shelter to see if they had any dogs that were in need of a home.

 

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly.

I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.
But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look like "Lab people," whatever that meant. They must've thought I did.
But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too. Maybe we were too much alike.

 

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice."

To Whomever Gets My Dog: Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it. He knew something was different. So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you. First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you throw them, he'll bound after them, so be careful. Don't do it by any roads.

 Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones ---"sit," "stay," "come," "heel."

He knows hand signals, too: He knows "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business. Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He's up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don't know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, but he knows. Finally, give him some time. It's only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you... His name's not Reggie. He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn't bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this ... well it means that his new owner should know his real name.

His real name is "Tank." Because, that is what I drive. I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could've left Tank with ... and it was my only real request of the Army upon my

deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter ... in the "event" ... to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades. All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me. Thank you, Paul Mallory

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog. "Hey, Tank," I said quietly. The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

 
"C'mere boy."
He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't heard in months. "Tank," I whispered. His tail swished.
I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.
 
"It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me." Tank reached up and licked my cheek.
"So whatdaya say we play some ball?" His ears perked again.
"Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?"
Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

Maria Goodavage pens a tribute to our K9 Warriors - "Soldier Dogs"

Here's a book that should be on the reading list of all who value the special relationship we share with man's best friends, our K9 companions.

WAR DOGS - an amazing tribute to man's best friends in peace and in war. Bravo Zulu to our troops and their 4 legged shipmates.

An excerpt from Maria Goodavage's book "Soldier Dogs"

By Morning Joe Staff

-

Fri Mar 16, 2012 8:26 AM EDT

7 a. m., just north of the town of Safar, Afghanistan, and Fenji M675 is already panting. Her thick, black German shepherd coat glistens in the hot August sun. Fenji is out in front of ten marines, leashed to a D-ring that’s attached to the body armor of her handler, Corporal Max Donahue. He’s six feet behind her and holds his rifle ready.

Fenji leads the marines down the flat dirt road, past the trees and lush vegetation in this oasis amid the deserts of southern Afghanistan. She ignores the usual temptations; a pile of dung, a wrapper from a candy bar. Her mission doesn’t include these perks. Her nose is what may keep them all alive today, and she can’t distract it with the trivial: Coalition forces have been sweeping Safar of insurgents and their bombs, allowing the Safar Bazaar marketplace to reopen and locals to start living normally again. The Taliban had to go somewhere else. So they headed north. And they planted improvised explosive devices (IEDs) like seedlings, among the poppy fields and grape fields and off to the sides of roads, under thick weeds.

Around here, any step you take could be your last.

---

And that’s why Fenji is in the lead, walking point. IEDs are the top killer in Afghanistan— even with the highest technology, the best mine- sweeping devices, the most sophisticated bomb- jamming equipment, and the study of “pattern of life” activities being observed from remote piloted aircraft. But there is one response that the Taliban has no answer for: the soldier dog, with his most basic sense— smell— and his deepest desire— some praise, and a toy to chew.

“Seek!” Donahue tells Fenji, and they continue down the road, leading the men from the 3/ 1, (Third Battalion First Marines). She walks with a bounce to her step, tail up and bobbing gently as she half trots down the road. Every so often she stops and sniffs a spot of interest and, when she doesn’t find what she’s seeking, moves on. She almost looks like a dog out on a morning stroll in a park. Donahue, in full combat gear— some eighty pounds of it, including water for his dog— keeps up with her.

Fenji stops at a spot just a foot off the side of the road. She’s found something of great interest. Without taking her eyes off the spot, she sniffs around it swiftly and her tail starts to wag. Suddenly she goes from standing up to lying down, staring the entire time at the spot. The men have stopped walking and are watching her. Her wagging tail kicks up some dust. Everything is silent now. No more sniffing, no crunching of boots.

Suddenly a hushed, enthusiastic voice cuts through the dead quiet. “Fenjiii! That’s my girl!” In training exercises, Donahue is a lot more effusive, but out of the respect for the bomb, he makes his initial praise short and quick, calls her back, and they “un-ass” from the area. It could be the kind of IED someone sets off from a distance, not the type that goes off when you step on it. One of the marines marks it with a chartreuse glow stick, and they move on.

Within the next hour, Fenji alerts to three more roadside bombs. Donahue lavishes her with quiet praise every time. Twice after her finds, shortly after they get away from the bombs, he tosses a black Kong toy to his dog and she easily catches it. She stands there chewing it, reveling in the sound of Donahue’s praise and the feel of the hard rubber between her teeth and the gloved hand of her best pal stroking her head. Life doesn’t get much better than this for a military working dog. These are the moments they live for, when all the years of training, all the hard work, come together.

“I’m proud of you!” Donahue tells her, and he means it, and she wags hard. She knows she’s done well. She’s been with him for seven months now, and she has a great fondness for Donahue, her first handler, and he dotes on “my sweet girl.” She liked him from the moment they met at Camp Pendleton back in February. Nearly everyone who meets Donahue reacts the same way. There’s something about his big personality, his love of life, his dry humor, the way he looks after you. Fenji fell right in with him, and he immediately took to her. She was young, bright, eager to learn from him, and he swears she has a sense of humor. He once said that she gets his jokes before his friends do.

That’s probably because she tends to wag in his presence regardless of jokes. She’s just happy to be near him. She’s three, he’s twenty- three, and together they’re a formidable bomb- finding force.
Their bond might contribute to their success on missions. She sleeps at the foot of Donahue’s cot every night out here; she joins him for card games with the other marines; she eats next to him at the patrol base where they’ve been stationed during this mission.

He lets her have some of his food “because my girl deserves it.”

The explosive ordinance disposal (EOD) technicians usually accompany the squad but had been called to another spot this morning. They’re on their way back to investigate the IEDs and defuse them. Donahue and the other marines go into action to protect the EOD techs in case of an ambush. They take positions to secure the area.

Donahue finds a great spot for his sector of fire, at a Y in the road. Its wide open here, and he can see a few hundred meters around him. He fills Fenji’s portable bowl with water from his CamelBak. As she laps it up, he lies belly down, propped up on his elbows, and positions his rifle. He’s facing away from the field where some of the other marines are. He’s got a tiny village about two hundred meters away in his sights. If there’s trouble, that’s where it could start. A quenched Fenji lies down beside him a few feet away, and they wait.

The EOD techs arrive and get to work, carefully digging up the first IED, about one hundred meters from Donahue. One wrong move and they’re done for, and the Taliban adds another tally mark to its scorecard. One of the techs extracts the bomb from its hiding place and bends over it to take a look. Down the road, Donahue adjusts himself slightly to get more comfortable.

Three klicks south, in Safar, Corporal Andrei Idriceanu hears a terrible explosion as he and his dog sweep a building for explosives. “That could not be good,” he thinks, but he tries not to think about it too much.

Excerpt from SOLDIER DOGS © by Maria Goodavage. Published by Dutton, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Dogs care......

True That

For the love of our 4 legged pals......

My wife and I lost two of our dogs in the last year, both who were only about 12 years old.  It is tough as they come in & out of your life, always giving you the full devotion of their loyalty.

This author describes why if more of our POLS had dogs, we may have better leadership in government.  I feel he may be on to something -

America needs more dogs in politics, especially Labs

January 17, 2013 - Washington Examiner

Former Arkansas Gov. and Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee did something Thursday that ought to remind us of a crucial fact about our politics and politicians. Huckabee shared on Facebook his grief and joy in losing Jet, a handsome black Labrador retriever who was his "inseparable companion and confidante for almost 15 years."

Be forewarned: If you love dogs, Huckabee's description of himself as "inconsolable" as he and his wife, Janet, held Jet in his last moments of life will likely moisten your eyes: "Jet asked for nothing except for basic necessities and a little bit of attention. For that, I enjoyed his unflinching loyalty, fidelity, and his calming presence. I loved that dog and always will. There was never a day that Jet didn't make me laugh in the almost 15 years we were together. Only on his last day with me did he make me cry."

"Jet asked for nothing except for basic necessities and a little bit of attention. For that, I enjoyed his unflinching loyalty, fidelity, and his calming presence. I loved that dog and always will." - Former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee.

Claudia and I had the same experience a year ago when we had to put down our Abby, a chocolate Lab who was my "sweetheart baby-girl Labbie" for a dozen years.

Like Jet, Abby was special, from her nose (made crooked by a mysterious incident that would have ended her life at seven weeks had Claudia not reserved her for my 50th birthday) to her long, thick tail that wagged at the slightest provocation.

Abby never met another creature, human or otherwise, that she didn't love at first sight. She exulted in running, often with her hindquarters hunkered down as only Labs can. And she loved to ride in the front seat of my truck, eager to go wherever the moment might take us.

She also had a clock in her head. Otherwise, I can't explain why, after discovering Frosty Paws at about age 5, she stood by the refrigerator pawing at the door every evening at 8 expecting the night's treat.

Then at 10, she would get up from wherever she was lying and stand there impatiently waiting for us to follow her to the bedroom for the evening's repose.

I could go on about Abby, but, suffice it to say, hardly a day goes by that I don't think about her and chuckle over something she did. And sometimes shed a little tear.

So what do Abby and Jet have to do with anything in this town? After the 2008 election, Huckabee became a cable TV personality with his successful Saturday evening show on Fox News. As it happens, I usually, though not always, agree with Huckabee on the issues of the day. But when I read about his love for Jet, I was reminded that probably anybody anywhere on the political spectrum could do the same thing, given the right circumstances.

Huckabee shared a part of himself in that post that we rarely glimpse in our public figures these days. It's easy to take them for granted because politicians take predictable positions, deliver predictable speeches, cast predictable votes in Congress.

Ditto for the people in the advocacy groups, lobbying outfits and think tanks. Predictable positions, predictable speeches, predictable, predictable, predictable ...

When everything becomes predictable, we tend to forget that out of the public eye these folks have hearts and emotions, suffer setbacks, hope for victories, and laugh and cry over big things and small, just like the rest of us.

Yes, Mr. Dooley was right. Politics ain't beanbag, but wouldn't it be great if Washington's warring parties and factions could somehow recover and nurture a recognition that we all have our Jets and Abbys?

Mark Tapscott is executive editor of The Washington Examiner

So many more to be saved...

It is all a matter of perspective - as the sticker on my truck says, " Who rescued who??"

Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering apprehensively into the kennels. I felt her need instantly and knew I had to help her.

I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she wouldn't be afraid. As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view from a little accident I had in the back of my cage. I didn't want her to know that I hadn't been walked today. Sometimes the overworked shelter keepers get too busy and I didn't want her to think poorly of them.

As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn't feel sad about my past. I only have the future to look forward to and want to make a difference in someone's life.

She got down on her knees and made little kissy sounds at me. I shoved my shoulder and side of my head up against the bars to comfort her. Gentle fingertips caressed my neck; she was desperate for companionship. A tear fell down her cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well.

Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I instantly jumped into her arms.

I would promise to keep her safe.
I would promise to always be by her side.
I would promise to do everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her eyes.

I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor. So many more are out there who haven't walked the corridors. So many more to be saved. At least I could save one.

I rescued a human today.

By Janine Allen

Lost & Blind - Abby finds her way home in -40 degree weather in Alaska

To those who do not share their lives with a dog, you have my sympathy and pity.  I cannot imagine how empty my life would be w/o the company of our 4 legged friends.

They are incredible and show it by how they live their lives bravely, genuinely and without regret.  They are an inspiration to all who spend time with them and the dedication they show is unrivaled.

I envy their ability to find their way home, even while blind and in -40 degree weather.  This pup was not going to ever give up until she found her way back to her family.

Awesome stuff.

Lost, blind dog finds way back to Alaska owners

Associated Press – 10 hrs ago

FAIRBANKS, Alaska (AP) — Blind and alone in Alaska winter temperatures that dipped 40 degrees below zero, a lost 8-year-old Fairbanks dog wasn't given much of a chance to make it home.

 

But after walking 10 miles to the edge of a local musher's dog yard, Abby the brown-and-white mixed breed was found and returned to her owners, a family that includes two boys and one girl under the age of 10.

The dog that the family raised from an animal-shelter puppy went missing during a snowstorm on Dec. 13, and the family never expected to see her again, The Fairbanks Daily News-Miner reported (http://bit.ly/VhceSZ ).

"It's a miracle, there's no other words to describe it," said McKenzie Grapengeter, emotion choking her voice and tears coming to her eyes. "We never expected to have her to be returned safe and alive."

Musher and veterinarian Mark May said he came across the dog while running his team on Dec. 19, but didn't stop to pick her up.

"It ran with us for about a mile on the way home before she fell off the pace, but I had a big dog team so I couldn't grab it," he said. "I said, 'boy I hope it finds somebody's house.'"

The next day, the dog turned up at May's house.

"Everybody just assumed it was some kind of scaredy-cat, but there it was in front of the door in our dog lot and it was blind," May said. "It was sitting there, all the way from 14 mile on the winter trail down into this neighborhood, I guess by just sniffing, so I picked it up and brought it in."

To May's surprise, the dog had no signs of frostbite.

"No frozen ears, no frozen toes, she'll probably go back home and it'll (be) business as usual. She's no worse for wear but quite an adventure," he said.

The Grapengeter family hadn't tagged or put a microchip in the dog, but the community used social media to track down Abby's owners.

"We're so, so grateful for all (the community's) hard work," McKenzie Grapengeter said. "They've given us the most amazing Christmas gift we could ever ask for

Close Encounters of a Dog Variety.....

Living in a house that was built in the 1840s comes with certain issues.  The old structure needs TLC and there are limitations based on size and such.

Then there are other issues....like the presence of past residents.

I can't point to any one specific incident but let us say that my wife and daughter are convinced that we have some kinda of presence going on there on an irregular basis.

Now, yesterday, I had a close encounter of a different kind here in Afghanistan.

Friday is our one day a week off. We call it the "layabout day" as that seems to be the main occupation on the day off.  I was taking a mid-day nap and just woke up at the end of it.  I was laying on the bed, awake but with my eyes closed.  I was fully aware of all the noises around me, like the Ipad playing music in the background and the sounds of aircraft flying overhead.

Then, I felt the presence of someone I didn't expect - My Dog Tessa who died this year.

She suffered from Canine Myloepathy - a nerve disorder that is very much like ALS in humans.  We eventually had to have her put down as she was no longer able to stand, walk or take care of her bodily functions.  The nerves that controlled all the muscles in her lower body were immobilized and that made it very bad for her. She passed away in March 2012.

We used to call her our " Moose Mutt" as she had a body that resembled a Moose - Large body with spindly long legs - she was very much beloved by all in our family. She used to run and gallop just like a horse and was very smart.....extremely intelligent for a dog.

She had a habit of "nosing" me with her long snout when I was sleeping and she wanted to wake me up.  She would get up next to the bed and push her snout under my hand until I woke up and started paying attention to her.
 
Yesterday,in my room here in Afghanistan, I felt her doing this to me.  I was awake - not dreaming.  I felt her snout with the wiry whiskers nosing underneath my hand, forcing me to pay attention.  I gently moved my hand back across her snout and felt her face and her ears. This was what she wanted and I would stroke her ears & head as a sign that I was paying attention to her, even though I was still in bed. 

Yesterday, I felt the same things as I lay there.  I stroked her head, laying there awake but with my eyes closed.  It went on for about 2 minutes until I had to open my eyes and see what was going on.  I opened them and found myself alone in my room - she had gone.

I know some might be skeptical but this was what I experienced.  I spoke with the Missus and her surmise was, " Well, people ghosts - dog ghosts - I don't see any reason why you would expect anything different."

Tessa loved me and was my dog.  She was the smartest and brightest pup I ever had.  That she would worry about me and want to check in on me here in Afghanistan is very understandable.

Mark Twain wrote: "  The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's." -Letter to W.D. Howells, 2 April 1899

Amen, Mr. Twain.  I am glad that my old Moose-Mutt stopped by to check in on me.  I will find her one day when I am called home to our Father's Table.  If our Dogs are not there with us, it will not be Heaven by a long-shot.

SEMPER FIDOS - Military Dogs Are Our Military's Best Friends

SEMPER FIDOS - Man's Best Freinds are a true " Force Multiplier" out here in Afghanistan

After the fight, they can heal the wounds of war just by being there for our wounded warriors.

 

Been a busy week....new "4-legged children" in our home

www.petfinder.com

I have to apologize for not being able to post more often - Work and other tasks has taken me away from my blog - Not that it's an excuse, just the reality of things.

On a postive note, we have two new "4-legged children" who are keeping Mrs. MJ hopping - Breaking in new pups is not a easy task.

We adpoted these adorable girls through Petfinder.com, which posts pictures of animals in need of home from local shelters. Take a look and see if you can offer love and a home to a needy animal.

We are welcoming new pups to our life - Miss Marci & Macey



MARCI

 

 


Macey

 My family and I are proud to announce we have adopted a pair of Shelter Dogs ( Border Collie / Hound Mix) that need a good home.


After the loss of our beloved Miss Tessa and Spooky ealrier this year, we will open our home and hearts to the newest members of our clan, Marci & Macey.


We are truly blessed and couldn't be more excited. Here are some words that mean a lot to me and all who value our K-9 friends.

" The dogs in our lives, the dogs we come to love and who (we fervently believe) love us in return, offer more than fidelity, consolation, and companionship. They offer comedy, irony, wit, and a wealth of anecdotes, the "shaggy dog stories" and "stupid pet tricks" that are commonplace pleasures of life. They offer, if we are wise enough or simple enough to take it, a model for what it means to give your heart with little thought of return. Both powerfully imaginary and comfortingly real, dogs act as mirrors for our own beliefs about what would constitute a truly humane society. Perhaps it is not too late for them to teach us some new tricks. "
- Marjorie Garber

Man's Best Freinds......

Devotion from our K-9 Pals

The enclosed pictures show just the tip of the iceberg in how strongly our K-9 pals are devoted to us.

You could fill the pages of the web with all the instances where our 4-legged friends risked their lives to save the life of their human companions, in war and at home.

Anyone who doesn't have a dog in their life and has never taken on the responsibility of being a dog's best friend has missed out on something special.

"The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's."

- Mark Twain, Letter to W D Howells, 4/2/1899

Man's Best Friends - Our K-9 companions helped shape our civilzation

Scientist have given further evidence for what many of us already knew.  Our K-9 pals are a force in our lives and part of the reason why we have been able to evolve into the world's masters.  Dogs learned from us and we benefited from their partnership.

The findings of their study show what many of us who have a dog in our lives already knew.  Dogs watch us and learn from our emotions, actions and how we communicate with them.  Facial signals being the most important to them and also an intense desire to please us.  Dogs live for our praise and having a dog in your life has proven to be beneficial for health and safety.  There are many dogs that need a good home and if you are able to do so, look to adopt one from a shelter.

I have been overseas and have seen how much dogs help our troops and those in harm's way.  There can be no amount of praise that rewards these K-9 warriors for how much they do for our troops. 

In all ways, dogs are our best friends and I am glad to have them along on life's journey.

Doggy Daydreams: Brain Scans Reveal Fido's Thoughts



Jeanna Bryner, LiveScience Managing Editor


Date: 07 May 2012

Fido's expressive face, including those longing puppy-dog eyes, may lead owners to wonder what exactly is going on in that doggy's head. Scientists decided to find out, using brain scans to explore the minds of our canine friends.

The researchers, who detailed their findings May 2 in the open-access journal PLoS ONE, were interested in understanding the human-dog relationship from the four-legged perspective.

"When we saw those first [brain] images, it was unlike anything else," said lead researcher Gregory Berns in a video interview posted online. "Nobody, as far as I know, had ever captured images of a dog's brain that wasn't sedated. This was [a] fully awake, unrestrained dog, here we have a picture for the first time ever of her brain," added Berns, who is director of the Emory University Center for Neuropolicy.



Sit … stay … still

Berns realized dogs could be trained to sit still in a brain-scanning machine after hearing that a U.S. Navy dog had been a member of the SEAL team that killed Osama bin Laden. "I realized that if dogs can be trained to jump out of helicopters and airplanes, we could certainly train them to go into an fMRI to see what they're thinking," Berns said.

So he and his colleagues trained two dogs to walk into and stay completely still inside a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) scanner that looks like a tube: Callie, a 2-year-old feist, or southern squirrel-hunting dog; and McKenzie, a 3-year-old border collie.

In the experiment, the dogs were trained to respond to hand signals, with the left hand pointing down signaling the dog would receive a hot-dog treat and the other gesture (both hands pointing toward each other horizontally) meaning "no treat." When the dogs saw the treat signal, the caudate region of the brain showed activity, a region associated with rewards in humans. That same area didn't rev up when dogs saw the no-treat signal. [Video of dog experiment]

"These results indicate that dogs pay very close attention to human signals," Berns said. "And these signals may have a direct line to the dog’s reward system."

Mirror into human mind

The researchers think the findings open the door for further studies of canine cognition that could answer questions about humans' deep connection with dogs, including how dogs represent human facial expressions in their minds and how they process human language.

With such an evolutionary history between man and man's best friend, the studies, the researchers point out, "may provide a unique mirror into the human mind," they write.

"The dog's brain represents something special about how humans and animals came together. It’s possible that dogs have even affected human evolution," Berns said.

In fact, research published in the August 2010 issue of the journal Current Anthropology suggests our love of these furry four-legged creatures may have deep roots in human evolution, even shaping how our ancestors developed language and other tools of civilization.

Presidential Politics goes to the Dogs

I am a true fan of our 4 legged friends.

Dogs are Man's Best Friend and anyone mistreating ( or eating) one is on my shite-list. The issue of DOGGATE is less about what MITT did or what BHO ate, but a total lack of journalistic integrity.

The hypocrisy of those in the media is on full display and continues with DOGGATE.

John Hayward asks, “Why didn’t the media know Obama ate dogs?” They did a mad dash to scour through Sarah Palin’s e-mails — after the 2008 election — and found nothing. But going to any bookstore and picking up Obama’s first autobiography was too much work for them. Why bother? They might’ve found something that would embarrass him.

Jim Treacher says, " (The Media) bought his memoirs so they’d look good on the shelf, but nobody wanted to actually read them. Besides, they were too busy going through Sarah Palin’s middle-school yearbooks."

The Daily Caller chips in, " When Romney puts a dog on a car roof, it’s a job for Diane Sawyer. When Obama eats one*, it’s a (less important) story. And isn’t it interesting that an incident from 1983 couldn’t be more current, but quoting one of Obama’s books is “dredging” it up? Guess it all depends on which party is embarrassed about it."

All I know is we need the economy fixed as that is our key issue in this election and has caused thousands of Dogs to be abandoned by those who have lost jobs and homes. That occurred on President Obama's watch and that is reason enough to want a different person in the White House.
We need a new President and one that doesn't have the media as his personal "lap dog".

Tessa

We lost our heart today.

Our dog Tessa had to be put to sleep as she had Canine Myelopathy. It is a nerve disorder similar to ALS in humans. She was a bright and smart girl but had lost the ability to move her hind legs and all her muscles from the middle of her body had stopped working. This in turn effected her bowels, and that made it time for the most difficult decision.

She is in heaven as all dogs go to heaven. She is there with our other dogs and enjoying the ability to run across endless fields....she loved to run and was one of the best dogs anyone could ever have.

In tribute, the enclosed poem is how I will remember her. A strong and smart companion that was the smartest and most loved dog we could ever imagine.

JUST MY DOG

She is my other eyes that can see above the clouds;
My other ears that hear above the winds.
She is the part of me that reaches out into the sea.

She has told me a thousand times over that I'm
her reason for being.
by the way she rests against my leg;
by the way she thumps her tail at my smallest smile;
by the way she shows her hurt when I leave
without taking her.

I think it makes her worry when she is not along
to care for me.

When I am wrong, she is delighted to forgive.
When I am angry, she clowns to make me smile.
When I am happy, she is joy unbounded.
When I am a fool, she ignores it.
When I succeed, she brags.

Without her, I am only another person.
With her, I am all powerful.
She is loyalty itself.
She has taught me the meaning of devotion.

With her, I know a secret comfort and a private peace.
She has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant.
Her head on my knee can heal my human hurts.
Her presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things.

She has promised to wait for me, whenever, wherever in case I need her.
And I expect I will, as I always have.

She is my dog.

Weber the black Labrador gets a new home in England after being rescued

All for the love of a dog....It is amazing what people will do for a dog as it is something innate that humans feel for our 4-legged friends.

Our Black Lab was the same. I was walking with our two pups in a local forest area in the dead of winter when he came ambling out of the woods and took right to us. I was amazed as it was very cold and here was this little black lab all alone in the woods with no collar. I took him home as it was not the weather you would leave an animal out in for any length of time. I called the local pound and found out he was a stray who had been abandoned by a family that moved out of town. The dog officer stated he had been on the run for a few weeks. My wife and I decided that he should stay as it was inconceivable that this nice little lab could be abandoned in such a cold-hearted way. He has become part of our family and we can't imagine life without him.

This couple from England must have felt the same way about Weber as they went above and beyond, all for the love of a dog.

Couple spend £2,000 flying stray dog to Britain after falling in love with her on Caribbean holiday By Emily Allen - UK Mail

When they met on a Caribbean beach it was love at first sight - and when the holiday was over, nothing was going to keep them apart.

And finally Weber the black Labrador cross has been reunited with her loving new owners, 4,000 miles from his old home.

Paul Booth, 43, and wife Lorraine, 36, rescued the dog after spotting her wandering across a beach in Antigua as it hunted for scraps.

They decided to adopt the malnourished animal and give her a permanent home back in Britain.Now after paying £2,000 and waiting for vet checks to be completed and the six-month quarantine period to be over, the couple have been reunited with their dog.

She bounded into their arms after stepping off a long-haul flight from the Caribbean island to Gatwick Airport last week.

Mrs Booth said: 'It feels great to finally have her here. She looks exactly the same as before, but is now super-healthy.'We fell in love with her after she started following us around. In the end we just could not leave her there.'I think it is fate that led us to her and now she is settling in so well here.'

The couple, from Cotham, Bristol, headed to Antigua's idyllic Cocobay resort for a two-week holiday in January this year.They were living in a hut on a stretch of the island's scenic beach when they first noticed the black dog wandering the sands.

Mrs Booth, who owns retro sweet shop Fizzy Lips in Bristol's Broadmead shopping centre with her husband, said: 'We were in a resort where we had a hut on the beach.

'My husband went running on the beach in the morning, near an unpopulated wasteland, and this little dog came out and ran over to him.'He stopped and rubbed its nose and patted it, and she was all patchy and malnourished, and she had mange.'But she followed him up the beach and ran with him and when he got back to the hut he said to me, 'you have got to come and see this dog'.'

The couple befriended her and she began follow them around and they in turn would feed her.
Mrs Booth said: 'We were there two weeks and we went to see her every day.
'She would come to see us and sit outside our hut to wait for us, and she had such a lovely personality.'She was so thin and slept on the beach with no food, water or companions, either canine or human. It was very sad.

'How she got there no one will ever know, but she was not likely to survive for long.
'Despite, this she seemed so delighted to have any attention.'The problem in Antigua with stray dogs is very bad, and the few people over there who are trying to educate people, rescue and re-home dogs are fighting an uphill battle.'

They left money for her to be looked after when they returned home.

But when they got back to Bristol they realised they wanted the dog to be with them permanently.
Mrs Booth said: 'I just couldn't bear to go home and not find out what happened to her.
'It seemed so sad that she would probably end up getting hit by a car or just dying of starvation.
'We had two other dogs and when we got back from holiday we found out our black labrador Merlin had a cancerous tumour and later died.'

After persuading Ms Corbin to let them apply to bring Weber home, the young dog was put in quarantine at the Humane Society in Antigua for six months.The Booths also paid hundreds of pounds for her to be cleaned up and given its rabies jabs. Her flight to Gatwick cost £1,000.

Weber has now settled in to her home in the city and is already best friends with the Booths' other dog - six-year-old Labrador Cosmo. Mrs Booth said: 'She was a bit timid to start with but now is just racing around everywhere.'We take her up to the park and she absolutely loves it. She always comes back to me too. 'We could not be happier.

Man & Dog have been together a lot longer than we ever imagined....

By all accounts, man & dog have been living together for about 15000 years, since the end of the last ice age. Man has altered dogs to serve our needs and due to man, the dog is the most genetically altered species in the world. We have bred dogs to serve the needs of hunting, farm duties and for vanity.

Now, researchers have found that the partnership between man & dog may go back as far as 33,000 years ago based on new evidence found in cave dwellings in France.

All I know is our lives would not be the same without our 4 legged friends. I am glad to say that the three that reside with my family are valued for their companionship, attentiveness and that they make sure no one comes near our home without us knowing about it.


From the Cave to the Kennel

What the evolutionary history of the dog tells us about another animal: ourselves. From a cave in France, a new picture has emerged of canines as our prehistoric soulmates.
By Mark Derr - Wall Street Journal

Chauvet Cave in southern France houses the oldest representational paintings ever discovered. Created some 32,000 years ago, the 400-plus images of large grazing animals and the predators who hunted them form a multi-chambered Paleolithic bestiary. Many scholars believe that these paintings mark the emergence of a recognizably modern human consciousness. We feel that we know their creators, even though they are from a time and place as alien as another planet.

What most intrigues many people about the cave, however, is not the artwork but a set of markings at once more human and more mysterious: the bare footprints of an 8- to 10-year-old torch-bearing boy left in the mud of a back chamber some 26,000 years ago—and, alongside one of them, the paw print of his traveling companion, variously identified as a wolf or a large dog.

Attributing that paw print to a dog or even to a socialized wolf has been controversial since it was first proposed a decade ago. It would push back by some 12,000 years the oldest dog on record. More than that: Along with a cascade of other new scientific findings, it could totally rewrite the story of man and dog and what they mean to each other.

For decades, the story told by science has been that today's dogs are the offspring of scavenger wolves who wandered into the villages established by early humans at the end of the last ice age, about 15,000 years ago. This view emphasizes simple biological drive—to feed on human garbage, the scavenging wolf had to behave in a docile fashion toward humans. And—being human—we responded in kind, seeking out dogs for their obsequiousness and unconditional devotion.

As the story goes, these tame wolves bred with other tame wolves and became juvenilized. Think of them as wolves-lite, diminished in strength, stamina and brains. They resembled young wolves, with piebald coats, floppy ears and shorter, weaker jaws. Pleading whiners, they drowned their human marks in slavish devotion and unconditional love. Along the way, they lost their ability to kill and consume their prey.

But it was never clear, in this old account, just how we got from the scavenging wolf to the remarkable spectrum of dogs who have existed over time, from fell beasts trained to terrorize and kill people to creatures so timid that they flee their own shadows. The standard explanation was that once the dump-diver became a dog, humans took charge of its evolution through selective breeding, choosing those with desired traits and culling those who came up short.

This account is now falling apart in the face of new genetic analyses and recently discovered fossils. The emerging story sees humans and proto-dogs evolving together: We chose them, to be sure, but they chose us too, and our shared characteristics may well account for our seemingly unshakable mutual intimacy.

Dogs and humans are social beings who depend on cooperation for their survival and have an uncanny ability to understand each other in order to work together. Both wolves and humans brought unique, complementary talents to a relationship that was based not on subservience and intimidation but on mutual respect.

It seems that wolves and humans met on the trail of the large grazing animals that they both hunted, and the most social members of both species gravitated toward each other. Several scholars have even suggested that humans learned to hunt from wolves. At the least, camps with wolf sentinels had a competitive advantage over those without. And people whose socialized wolves would carry packs had an even greater advantage, since they could transport more supplies. Wolves benefited as well by gaining some relief from pup rearing, protection for themselves and their offspring, and a steadier food supply.

The relationship between dogs and humans has been so mutually beneficial and enduring that some scholars have suggested that we—dog and human—influenced each other's evolution.

The Chauvet Cave "dogwolf"—the term I use for a doglike, or highly socialized, wolf who kept company with humans—is controversial, but it cannot easily be dismissed. Over the past three years, it has been grouped convincingly with a number of similar animals that have been identified in Belgium, the Czech Republic, Ukraine and the Altai Mountains in Southern Siberia, dating from 33,000 to 16,000 years ago.

Identification of these early dogs, combined with recent genetic evidence and a growing understanding of animals not as stimulus-response machines but as sentient beings, has broken the consensus model of dog domestication—leaving intact little more than the recognition of the grey wolf, Canis lupus, as progenitor of the dog. Everything else, it seems, is up for grabs.

According to the old view, the dog arose around 15,000 years ago in the Middle East. (Or in China, south of the Yangtze River, an alternate possible origin point added in the last decade in an attempt to reconcile archaeological evidence with emerging DNA evidence.)

The first major challenge to the consensus came in 1997, when an international team of biologists published a paper in the journal Science placing the origin of the dog as early as 135,000 years ago. Their date was based on analysis of mitochondrial DNA, which is passed on to offspring through females and is believed to change little from generation to generation; it allows scientists to calculate the time when populations or species separated genetically. This analysis suggested that wolves could have become dogs wherever in Eurasia they associated closely with early humans, and that even after the split was made, dogs and wolves continued to interbreed.

In short, because of their natural affinities, wherever and whenever wolves and humans met on the trail, some of them began to keep company. Often, when socialized wolves died, there were no others immediately available to replace them. But sometimes several socialized wolves would mate or a socialized female would mate with a "wild" wolf and then have her litter near the human camp. The pups would stay or go, according to their natures. This kind of arrangement could have continued for a considerable period. Any number of them could ultimately have produced dogwolves or dogs. Most of those lines would have vanished over time.

The DNA evidence remained controversial for years, even as most major studies placed the genetic separation of wolf and dog at earlier dates than those favored by archaeologists. Hard proof was slow to appear. The Chauvet Cave paw print once provided the only physical evidence for the existence of dogs before 15,000 years ago—and it was, at best, an indirect piece of support.

Then in 2008, Mietje Germonpré, a paleontologist at the Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Science and the leader of an international team of scientists, re-examined fossil material excavated from Goyet Cave in Belgium in the late 19th century and announced the identification of a 31,700-year-old dog, a large and powerful animal who ate reindeer, musk oxen and horses. The dogwolf from Goyet Cave was a creature of the Aurignacian culture that had produced the art in Chauvet Cave.

Last July, another international team identified the remains of a 33,000-year-old "incipient dog" from the Altai Mountains in southern Siberia. This month, Ms. Germonpré confirmed another find, this one in the Czech Republic, of the remains of a 26,000- to 27,000-year-old dog that had been buried with a bone in its mouth—perhaps to fuel it as it accompanied its human companion to the afterlife.

While the old consensus model held that the first dogs were small, these and other recently identified early dogs are large animals, often with shorter noses and broader faces than today's wolves. These early dogs appear in the camps of hunters of horses, reindeer, mammoths and other big game. From all appearances, they were pack animals, guards, hunters and companions. They are perhaps best viewed as the offspring of highly socialized wolves who had begun breeding in or near human camps.

Our view of domestication as a process has also begun to change, with recent research showing that, in dogs, alterations in only a small number of genes can have large effects in terms of size, shape and behavior. Far from being a product of the process of domestication, the mutations that separated early dogs from wolves may have arisen naturally in one or more small populations; the mutations were then perpetuated by humans through directed breeding. Geneticists have identified, for instance, a mutation in a single gene that appears to be responsible for smallness in dogs, and they have shown that the gene itself probably came from Middle Eastern wolves.

All of this suggests that it was common for highly socialized wolves and people to form alliances. It also leads logically to the conclusion that the first dogs were born on the move with bands of hunter-gatherers—not around semi-permanent pre-agricultural settlements. This may explain why it has proven so difficult to identify a time and place of domestication.

Taken together, these recent discoveries have led some scientists to conclude that the dog became an evolutionary inevitability as soon as humans met wolves. Highly social wolves and highly social humans started walking, playing and hunting together and never stopped. The dog is literally the wolf who stayed, who traded wolf society for human society.

Humans did wield a significant influence over dogs, of course, by using breeding to perpetuate mutations affecting their shape, size and physical abilities. Recent studies suggest that the dog has unique abilities among animals to follow human directions and that its capacity for understanding words can approach that of a two-year-old child. To various degrees, humans appear to have concentrated those and other characteristics and traits through selective breeding.

Since the advent of scientific breeding in the late 18th century, humans have altered the look and temperament of the dog more than they had over thousands of preceding years. A team of gene-sequencers at the Broad Institute of Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology estimated that the dog lost 4% of its genetic diversity during its initial separation from the wolf. Much greater losses have occurred as a result of modern breed formation, one result of which is the more than 400 inheritable diseases to which purebreds are uniquely vulnerable.

Recent genetic evidence has confirmed that certain basic types—pariah dogs, sight hounds, mastiffs, spitz-type dogs and small dogs—arose very early in the transformation of wolf to dog. These dogs adapted to their homelands and often had special talents as hunters, guards and eventually herders. These characteristics were often perpetuated over time.

Scientific breeders believed they could improve on nature by consolidating several similar types into one breed or isolating a few prize specimens from a larger population. In both cases, they relied on inbreeding to create and perpetuate the look and talents they wanted. With the advent of kennel clubs in the mid-19th century, the pace of breed creation picked up.

Breeders began to create dogs to fit the needs of the wealthy—from sporting dogs that could point and retrieve fowl, to little puppy-like lap dogs. The dog proved to be a wonderful animal for testing the skill of breeders, since it could be stretched in size from two to 200 pounds.

Purebred dogs were expensive commodities until after World War II, when they became symbols of arrival in the middle class. Increased demand led to increased breeding, often in puppy mills. The resulting dogs had health and behavior problems from bad breeding and the poor care of pregnant females and newborn puppies.

In some cases, the traits that breeders desire are inherited along with unwanted, debilitating conditions—such as when blindness and epilepsy accompany particular coat styles and eye colors. In many regards, the original, naturally occurring breeds were healthier and better at their appointed tasks than their purebred heirs.

But this is just the most recent chapter of a long tale. The tableau in the mud of Chauvet Cave is a stark reminder that dogs and humans have traveled together for tens of thousands of years, from ancient hunting camps to farms, ranches cities and suburbs—from the tropics to the poles. The relationship has endured not because dogs are juvenilized wolves but because they are dogs—our faithful companions.

—Mr. Derr's most recent book is "How the Dog Became the Dog: From Wolves to Our Best Friends."