Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Walk the Walk, Bark the Bark

Dear readers: My friend Amy (Scooter's mom) kindly let me know that the Best of Austin poll is currently underway at the Austin Chronicle and that it is possible to vote online for best blog or best blogger. Now, we here at NBUT hate to bark for the sake of barking. We make no claims to being the best or the brightest. We are merely trying to fill a little niche in the blogosphere and bring a little happiness or enlightenment to your day. 

That said, for those who are interested, click here to reach the Austin Chronicle 2009 Best of Austin poll ballot. The rules are posted at the top of the page. (No ballot stuffing, you crazy kids!) The categories include Architecture & Lodging, Arts & Entertainment, Food & Drink, Kids, Media (that's where you vote for best blog --wink-wink), Outdoor & Recreation, Politics & Personalities, Services, Shopping, and Wild Card. Voting runs until July 21. Have fun with it and remember who loves you here at nobarkingundertrees.blogspot.com 

-z

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Doctor Dog

Glancing through the New York Times online this morning, I found an interesting little article by science writer Tara Pope Parker about studies that have shown that some dogs can not only predict cancer, but they can also be responsive to their diabetic owners' drops in blood sugar. Here's how the dogs let their owners know something was wrong: 

Among the dog owners, 138, or 65 percent, said their dog had shown a behavioral reaction to at least one of their hypoglycemic episodes. About a third of the animals had reacted to 11 or more events, with 31.9 percent of animals reacting to 11 or more events. The dogs got their owners’ attention by barking and whining, (61.5 percent), licking (49.2 percent), nuzzling (40.6 percent), jumping on top of them (30.4 percent), and/or staring intently at their faces (41.3 percent). A small percentage of the dogs reportedly tremble in fear at the time of a hypoglycemic attack.

Clearly my dogs are not qualified diagnosticians. Muzzy licks, nuzzles, and stares intently at my face all day long. Am I dying? Meanwhile, Roma finds me interesting only when I am carrying a bowl of food or the car keys. Clearly, I'm fine. Hope you are too.
-z

Monday, July 6, 2009

The Dog Parkist: What Did You Call Me?

Q: My question is simple: What does the name of  a dog say about its owner? I've noticed lately many dogs that have pretentious names like Vladimir and Hemingway. For example, there is a dog in my parents' neighborhood named Shakespeare (Shakey for short?). My first dog Skippy (now that's what I call a dog name) had a Vizsla friend named Nietzsche. Nietzsche's owner was a dude who drove a truck. Overcompensating much?
A Rose By Any Other Name

A: Ah, Rose. What an excellent question. Names say so much about a person or a dog. Your own name, if I may point out, is fraught with delicious contradictions. The rose is a flower both common and highly desirable, thorny but inviting, fragrant but often blowsy and cheap looking. Roses grow in hothouses and in ditches. They drive poets to the height of inspiration and to the depth of cliche. All this conjured by four little letters. 

Dog names are similarly burdened. An owner must choose wisely. After all, he or she will be hollering this chosen moniker for a decade or more, if things go well. Does one go for the reliable Boomer or Bailey or Jake or Missy? These are proven winners. They are both easily bellowed and legible to the vet tech who reads the intake forms. (Heaven help the tech who deals with Nietzsche or Lao Tzu or Beezlebub.) Or does one use the naming of an adorable puppy as an opportunity to advertise one's useless liberal arts degree or unfortunate political affiliations—all, let's be honest here, in the hope of  garnering both knowing and respectful glances from one's peers or breathless attention from members of the opposite sex? ("Oh, your dog's name is William Henry Harrison? How deeply patriotic and sexy!" "Lenin? Why you foxy pinko. Tell me all about yourself!" "Rigoletto? Let's sing an aria together right now!") It's a tough call.

It is a simple fact that most dog names are bestowed before owners can know the dog's personality. The names they select generally reflect who they are or, rather, how they perceive themselves (radical philosopher or awesome dude) rather than the dogs that bear them. After all, I doubt your dog's friend Shakespeare scribbles poetry between bouts of whore-mongering and sword play. As for Nietzche dog, do you think he seriously comprehends the slave-master relationship? If he did, there's no way he'd be riding shotgun down I-35 with the Dude. He'd be driving.

Of course, there are cases where the naming of a dog is accurate but nonetheless offensive to others. There is currently at Dog Park an Aussie named for a recent Vice Presidential candidate, the momentarily current governor of the state of Alaska. Let's think about this choice of names: The dog is attractive, charismatic, ditzy, extravagantly enthusiastic, and unable to control herself. She barrels around the park inviting hardbitten Park pros like Muzzy to tear after her in order to school her in Dog Park manners, but she seems not to care because, of course, she's a maverick.  (It remains to be seen how well the dog looks in red lipstick or festooned with American flag pins. Bitchin' probably.) Clearly the name fits, but the Dog Parkist is aware of several Parkers who feel conflicted when encountering this unfortunately named dog. They try to scorn it and its owners, a perfectly nice young woman and her clean-cut, All-American boyfriend, both of whom consistently act as if they have no idea they are the object of withering looks and partisan mutterings. In the name of comity, however, the Dog Parkist reminds the seethers to take a deep, cleansing breaths and to remember that Some People Will Never Learn.

So Rose, The Dog Parkist must concur. Pretentious and partisan dog names only show how desperate the owners are to direct attention to themselves. The names announce "This dog is an extension of my wildly interesting life and my totally accurate world view."  She would suggest that people like the owners of poor dogs potentially named Einstein and Cheney give us all a break. Simply name your dog Bob and then wear a t-shirt that says, "Ask me about my lame-o life and clueless political affiliations." It will be just as effective, people. 

Thanks for writing!

Dear Readers: The Dog Parkist gratefully accepts and considers every query. Without you, her days at the exclusive Dog Parkist spa and resort would be meaningless and uninspired. Thank you! Thank you! And thank you!