I am off to up state New York tomorrow to judge two shows.  I will be visiting with several friends

who are coming to the show to see me with their Rattlebridge dogs. I can’t wait to see them.

I will also be glad to see fellow judges and dog show friends.  I have not been to dog shows

on a regular basis due to Al’ health.  Our friend Angie  who helps with our dogs and our friend

Sara who has two of my dogs who live with her, both hopefully pregnant:  Rattlebridge

Bounce in Her Step (daughter of my Bounce from frozen semen) and Rattlebridge

Mary Cassata (daughter of my Renoir from frozen semen).  I am happy to be having summer puppies,

but I will tell you this: if Senate Bill 95 passes, I will not probably be breeding dogs at least in Ohio.

Our Governor Strickland made a pact with the devil with HSUS and the Farm Bureau in an attempt

to keep HSUS from getting enough signatures to get their version of our newly passed farm bill on the

November ballot.  Part of the deal was that Strickland will back SB95 which is being pushed by the

animal rights zealots in Ohio and is being fought by sane people who do not want government control

with the ridiculous requirements in the bill for animal care.  I totally agree we need to fight the

substandard breeders, mostly the Amish, in our state. The standard of care can be inhumane to

downright cruel.

As soon as I begin writing about legislation and animal rights, I lose track of my original subject.  So—as

soon as I land in Columbus from New York on Monday Angie will meet me at the airport with another

packed suitcase so I can repack and take off to Las Vegas to catch up with two of my friends from the

last school that I served as principal who are attending a kindergarten convention.  I should not be going;

I don’t want to leave Al but he is covered and money is tight which has never stopped me to Al’s worry

perpetual worry.

I simply need to get away. Al has not bounced back from his latest chemo; I am worried sick.  He has stayed

bed for the last three weeks with no energy. After he was home after his last chemo which consists of a

cocktail infused directly into his liver through the femoral artery, he had a huge reaction to the antibiotic

Cipro causing him to go into scary hallucinations and dementia which got worse by the day until I hauled him

kicking and screaming into the emergency room. They admitted him and kept him for four days as Cipro can

cause dementia in the elderly. Of course I was the bad guy because I would not turn the televisions and radio

off because they were off when he insisted they were blaring.  His mind is back to normal.

I just wrote an article for “The Royal Spaniels” magazine about priorities changing; I did not expect any feedback

from Cavalier people and got none.  I feature it below. It talks about how we all get so caught up in the dog show

game, myself leading the pack, that we do not always pay attention to the human side of life. I have known dog

people who have taken a second mortgage out on their house or robbed their children’s’ college funds

order to finance a dog’s career to attempt to get to the coveted number in competition Cavalier in the country.  I

know how proud one can be of a dog that does that well; we have had three number one in competition Cavaliers in this

country and one in Canada. Was it sweet, yes, but oh so fleeting. As I say below, at the end of the day it is the dogs

that count, not the wins.

HAVING MY SAY: WHEN PRIORITIES CHANGE

Meredith Johnson-Snyder

Rattlebridge Cavaliers

In the last six months since Al has come out of remission and into aggressive liver cancer, my world and priorities have tilted. I find myself unable to wrap my once driven head around much of anything; I just cannot get myself together to finish articles, to keep up the good fight against anti breeding legislation, or to even embark on my spring planting frenzy. My energy level has pummeled, my goals have gone on vacation, and the normal activity of keeping up in the Cavalier and dog worlds has diminished. Facing cancer in one’s spouse takes center stage and normalcy goes on a back burner. My priorities have definitely changed and for the better right now.

Breeding, raising, and showing dogs can become a passion for those who do it with the right intention to improve the breed or at least to do no harm.

“Doing dogs” can become an obsession, an addiction, and a way of life. I am as guilty as anyone for missing family birthdays, sports events, awards ceremonies, graduations and weddings if one collided with a big specialty or judging assignment. My brothers, sister, and stepchildren and their families have never understood that they really needed to ask about my judging schedule or nationals in order to be graced with my presence; after all a judging contract is usually signed a at least a year in advance!!! The judging panel for a specialty or national may be made in heaven for one’s certain dog. Chasing the next BIS or National BISS can become the “holy grail” and the priority.

I have known those who did not make mortgage or car payment in order to pay entries, a handler to take a dog out, and/or advertising for said dog’s campaign. I have seen dogs become more of a priority than children. Thank God I have never gone quite that far probably because I never had children! I admit that priorities became pretty twisted when dog show weekends took top billing all too often in my life.

How absurd it all is, but then I am not alone in the dog world for having skewed priorities. When I asked a judge friend once what his religion was, he replied “the church of dog shows.” How many Sunday Masses or Holy Days of Obligation did I miss going to shows, whelping litters, or just begging off. Balancing my career and my dog show adventures was always a challenge and I retired earlier than I should have in order to be free to pursue my dream of showing and judging without the restrictions of a full time job—a job I would now love to do again if I wasn’t too damned old to do more than act as a substitute principal!

Why am I going on about all this? I am going on about “all this” because my priorities have drastically changed with age and with my husband’s cancer. I just wish I had had the good sense to change my priorities before nieces and nephews and step grandchildren had grown up without me realizing it, before so much money was spent on “doing dogs” and not enough saved or given to charities, before I had spent so much time away from Al who always supported me in my dog activities even when emitting terribly long sighs when doing the check book!

Was the drive to have beautiful champions, best in show dogs, performance and therapy dogs, and Register of Merits worth it? Yes, in a way, as dreams were fulfilled, goals met, and friendships made. It is wonderful to be able to look back at the journey of fulfilling dreams of wonderful Cavaliers. When I go back in my mind’s eye, the memories of my dogs will keep me softly even if all the ribbons and trophies will not keep me warm. However, all of those memories include Al who was my rock, my balance, my “curmudgeon” driving me crazy with his down to earth attitude when I just wanted to fly and he would be so damned cautionary that I would accuse him of always trying to put a damper on things. He should have put much more of a damper on me!!!

There comes a time in one’s life when the “footloose and fancy free” mentality of the young or middle aged comes into perspective. I think of my friend Anne Thaeder who rather put her life on hold to be her mother’s companion and then caretaker; she did so with joy and love. I hope that I am doing the same with my Al as gracefully as Annie and so many others finding themselves in the same situation do. My husband increasingly needs me in the “ups and downs” of chemo and if not total remission then just as much quality time as chemo and the Lord give to us. I have never been a very patient person, but am now learning patience. I have never really had to deny myself what I wished to do as an adult; Lord knows Al never denied me. Now he comes first in everything and I want to spend all my time with him. Suddenly “doing dogs” is not so important. Although still breeding a bit and enjoying looking at the show puppies grow up with our lawn as their show ring, I find that I am in no hurry to take them out; maybe they will be shown someday, maybe not, as their trotting around at home is as wonderful to me as their trotting around a ring. Even though missing the National this year did give me pause as I have a puppy that would have been competitive, there will be other nationals and other UK shows rather than this year’s wonderful one at Blenheim Palace. For one so once immersed in the dog show world as I, I have changed my priorities by the grace of God. Please say a prayer for my Al; he has been probably the only man in the world to put up with me. At this point he shakes his head with an empathetic yes!

 

 

 

THIS IS PRICELESS:

If you’ve ever worked for a boss who reacts before getting the facts and
thinking things through, you will love this!

Arcelor-Mittal Steel, feeling it was time for a shakeup, hired a new CEO.
The new boss was determined to rid the company of all slackers.

On a tour of the facilities, the CEO noticed a guy leaning against a wall.
The room was full of workers and he wanted to let them know that he meant
business. He asked the guy, "How much money do you make a week?"

A little surprised, the young man looked at him and said, "I make $400 a
week. Why?"

The CEO said, "Wait right here." He walked back to his office, came back in
two minutes, and handed the guy $1,600 in cash and said, "Here’s four weeks’
pay. Now GET OUT and don’t come back."

Feeling pretty good about himself, the CEO looked around the room and asked,
"Does anyone want to tell me what that goof-ball did here?"

From across the room a voice said, "Pizza delivery guy from Domino’s."

THIS IS PRICELESS:

Subject:  Senior Church Moment

A Preacher was explaining that he must move on to a larger congregation
that could pay him more.

There is a hush within the congregation. No one wants him to leave. Joe
Smith, who owns several car dealerships in the city stands up and proclaims,
"If the Preacher stays, I will provide him with a new Cadillac every year,
and his wife with a Honda mini-van to transport their children!"
The congregation sighs in relief, and applauds. Sam Brown, a successful
entrepreneur and investor, stands and says, "If the Preacher will stay on
here, I’ll personally double his salary, and also establish a foundation to
guarantee the college education of all his children,

More sighs and loud applause. Joe Tavares stands up and says “if the
preacher stays I will provide him with all the wine he wants.”

Sadie Jones, age 88, stands and announces with a smile,
"If the Preacher stays, I will give him sex!"

There is total silence.

The Preacher, blushing, asks her, "Mrs. Jones, whatever possessed you to say that?"
Sadie’s 90 year old husband Jake is now trying to hide, holding his
forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head from side to side,
while his wife replies, "Well, I just asked my husband how we could help,
and he said, "Screw him!"

Isn’t senility wonderful?

Lord, keep your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my mouth!!

 The Dogs Of Moscow – Taking the subway to find food and learning to get off at the right stop – WOW!

          The Dogs Of Moscow –
          An Interesting Story….

          Canine commuter … wild dog waits on the platform
          STRAY dogs are commuting to and from a city centre on underground trains in search of food scraps.

          The clever canines board the Tube each morning. After a hard day scavenging and begging on the streets,
          they hop back on the train and return to the suburbs where they spend the night.
          Experts studying the dogs say they even work together to make sure they get off at the right stop after
          learning to judge the length of time they need to spend on the train.
          The dogs choose the quietest carriages at the front and back ofthe train. They have also developed
          tactics to hustle humans into giving them more food on the streets of Moscow .

           Scientists believe the phenomenon began after the Soviet Union collapsed in the 1990s, and Russia ‘s
          new capitalists moved industrial complexes from the city centre to the suburbs. Dr. Andrei Poiarkov,
          of the Moscow Ecology and Evolution Institute, said: These complexes were used by homeless dogs
          as shelters, so the dogs had to move together with their houses.
          Because the best scavenging for food is in the city centre, the dogs had to learn how to travel on the
          subway to get to the centre in the morning, then back home in the evening, just like people.

          Well trained … dog enjoys a nap on the underground

          Dr. Poiarkov told how the dogs like to play during their daily commute.He said: They jump on the 
          train seconds before the doors shut, risking their tails getting jammed. They do it for fun. And
          sometimes they fall asleep and get off at the wrong stop.

          Dog tired … mutt naps on tube seat in Moscow

          The dogs have learned to use traffic lights to cross the road safely, said Dr. Poiarkov.
          And they use cunning tactics to obtain tasty morsels of shawarma, a kebab-like snack popular in Moscow .
          They sneak up behind people eating shawarmas then bark loudly to shock them into dropping their food.

           With children, the dogs play cute by putting their heads on youngsters’ knees and staring pleadingly
          into their eyes to win sympathy and scraps. Dr. Poiarkov added: Dogs are surprisingly
          good psychologists.

           The Moscow mutts are not the first animals to use public transport. In 2006 a Jack Russell in Dunnington,
          North Yorks , began taking the bus to his local pub in search of sausages. And two years ago, passengers in
          Wolverhampton were stunned when a cat called Macavity started catching the 331 bus to a fish and
          chip shop.

Another gem from my email:

Law of the Garbage Truck:

One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were
driving in the right lane when suddenly a car jumped out of a
parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his
brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of
the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi
driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really
friendly. So I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined
your car and sent us to the hospital!’ This is when my taxi driver
taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’

He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around
full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of
disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it
and sometimes they’ll dump it on you. Don’t take it personally.
Just smile , wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage
and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.
The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take
over their day. Life’s too short to wake up in the morning with regrets,
so…Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don’t.
Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it!

Have a blessed, garbage-free day!

 

 

ILLINOIS BREEDERS BEWARE; IT COULD HAPPEN IN ANY STATE SO WATCH OUT!

Please pass this information along to whomever you know that is not yet a
member of IFDCO (Illinois Federation of Dog Clubs and Owners) so that they
will be informed of this action on the part of our state. I never thought I
would live so long to see "armed" escorts needed for dog breeders! Even
those breeders who do not need to be licensed need to have meticulous
records available in case of an investigation. I also question about the
sales tax license being for "general merchandise" . If anyone has a CPA or
tax attorney who can decipher the IL sales tax code please let me know.
IFDCO asked three different CPA’s about this when it first surfaced a few
months ago and received three different answers. The only common advice for
breeders was to keep good records.

While this is news for Illinois, those of you in other states need to be
prepared as well, it’s only a matter of time before this kind of activity
hits your state. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy that our revenue departments and criminal
investigation units have so much extra time on their hands they can afford
to drive to every dog breeder to "investigate" and collect sales tax. Craft
fairs, garage sales and lemonade stands will be next for an armed visit.

Michele Kasten

ILLINOIS FEDERATION OF DOG CLUBS AND OWNERS Legislative Liaison:
Belle City Kennel Club
Schipperke Club of America
Illiana Schipperke Club
Schipperke Club of Greater St. Louis
GSD Club of Southern Illinois
Midwest Schipperke Rescue
Schipperke Club of Greater St. Louis, President and Rescue Chair
President and Co-Founder, Midwest Schipperke Rescue

RESPONSIBLE BREEDER AND RESCUER, PROUD TO DO BOTH!

Permission to cross post:

Attention:

It has happened here in Illinois. A Senior Investigator and her armed
escort from the Illinois Department of Revenue Bureau of Criminal Investigations
has shown up on the door steps of a person who holds a Kennel License in
Illinois demanding to see their dog sales records and accusing them of
criminal wrongdoing. The investigator knew exactly how many dogs this
person had sold in the past 36 months. What they didn’t know is that most of the
dogs sold by this individual were sold to out of state clients, so no sales
tax needed be collected on over 75% of their dog sales. This is not a puppy
mill operation. This is a breeder of over 30 years who has quality dogs,
shows dogs, and has a boarding kennel. They are just like you or I. The
Investigator forced this individual to show up in Springfield, obtain a
sales tax license for the sale of general merchandise and then proceeded to
go thru their records from the Department of Agriculture for the past 3
years. By the end of the day, they had to pay all back sales taxes, fines
and interest on their fines.

We had heard last year that the Illinois Department of Revenue had
requested a list of all individuals who were licensed as dog breeders in
the state from the Department of Agriculture – I guess it is true. This person
was made an example. They were told that they were being made an example
and others would soon follow.

A person at the Department of Revenue told this individual that they had
been instructed to bleed anyone to get money as the state is so broke.

What can you do? If someone knocks on your door and shows you a business
card or a badge, have them wait outside and you should call your accountant
and or your lawyer. Don’t do anything without legal representation. Think
about only selling your dogs out of state – so that no sales tax needs to
be collected. Once they knock on your door, the statue of limitations is 3
years that they can request your records.

Steve Hayden
President, IFDCO

I don’t know about you, but I am totally thoroughly outraged about our precious Gulf coast being assaulted by oil from a BP well—a well that should never have been drilled five miles under the ocean floor without safety nets in place.   I am outraged by BP’s excuses, its lies, its taking shortcuts and hoping nothing bad would happen, and its worship of the almighty dollar to feed its investors their dividends each quarter.  BP is not an American company; why is it operating off our shores. How many politicians has BP bought in order to do the deep drilling it has knowing the possible dangers to our environment and its personnel.  It is our environment, not the UK environment that is being ruined in the Gulf: our shrimp and fish, our bird life, our beaches, our tourist industry  and the livelihood of our people are all being insulted by oil.  Wasn’t Alaska enough of a wake up call ?  When will we as a nation realize that the oil industry does not have a ecological collective bone in its profit geared body.  How long has the oil industry lobbied those in Washington for its own ends and certainly not for the good of the American people.  When will we become fed up with corporate gluttony at the expense of our fragile ecosystems.  Stop buying BP.  Let it feel the results of their greed in their pocketbook as money is all that matters to BP and every other oil company.  Our last president was part of the oil industry and his presidency showed his partiality. Our present president needs to take charge and take charge now without giving BP any benefit of the doubt.  I believe so much is being kept from public knowledge about this whole horrible situation.  Start rattling the cages of legislators to do a thorough, unbiased investigation and stop buying gas from BP!!!

 

When I got home from visiting with the Thaeders in S. Carolina, Al was due to go in for his chemo.  His chemo consists of sending a “cocktail” through the femoral artery directly into his liver.  He has had two chemo treatments into one lobe of the liver and it looks like the biggest tumor has receded a bit, but the largest tumor in the other lobe has grown. This treatment was directed at that tumor and all went smoothly; Al spent the night at the hospital and then came home.  Then the trouble began or as the Irish would put it “the troubles.”  Al was home only a day or so when he began to act strangely; “strange"  became stranger and stranger. He began to hear and see things that were not there and not the Easter Bunny or Santa. He thought he had whole phone conversations that he didn’t really have; heard the television on when it was not, ditto for the car radio.  If it wasn’t so scary, it would have been hysterical as he woke me up in the middle of the night yelling that the television was on.  We have far too many televisions in this house and it took me a bit to go room to room so I could report back that there was no TV on.  He began to tell me that he thought he was losing his mind and by this time I thought I was losing mine.  His hallucinations began to get worse and I thought he was heading into dementia. Of course he was lucid and sane enough to refuse to go to the ER.  Fortunately one of my friends, a physician was visiting when “the troubles” were coming to a head.  I finally tracked down the on call doctor from the oncologist group, who told me to get him to the ER.  Only after I finally put Al on the phone with the doctor, did Al relent and agree to go in.  He would have relented anyway as I said I was calling the squad so the men with the straight jackets could get him.  Finally, we get to the ER where we waited for ten hours in a room as all kinds of tests were run as no one could figure out his problem. I cannot be sweet and nurturing to Al as he just won’t respond to my “Florence Nightingale”bedside manner; I need to be rather hard because Al will not try to go along with what is best for him. At this point Al was repeating “this is the most miserable night of my life” and “I want to go home” complaints; Al is John Wayne through and through. One does not baby John Wayne. So I was relying on drill sergeant persona to keep the medical staff on its toes and Al under control when one of the nurses going off shift informed me as she left that she did not think I was being nice to my husband and she was glad she was going off shift so she did not need to talk to me anymore.  Such professional understanding of the state of affairs as I tried to keep all together without becoming a puddle on the floor.  I refrained from just smacking her.  Meanwhile the CAT scan of Al’s head showed nothing abnormal; his rocks were intact. Other tests showed a couple of deficiencies but nothing to cause the dementia. However, after telling the docs again and again (each new doctor or nurse asks the same questions over and over) what meds Al was taking, one of the ER docs thought that Al might have a reaction to the antibiotic Cipro which can cause dementia in the elderly;  so my darling curmudgeon was admitted for a barrage of tests and spent a few days in the hospital. The antibiotic was the culprit, but also medications needed to be adjusted a bit.

I requested a wheelchair for him so we could attend his granddaughter’s graduation more easily. Of course he initially fought me over using the chair, but capitulated to my commander in chief tactics and told me later, when seriously prompted, that the chair indeed was a big help. Why do men fight the battle when they know damned well they will lose the war when engaged in combat with their wives.

Al has since had a visiting nurse and a physical therapist at home. This chemo and, of course, his reaction to Cipro hit him terribly hard.  He is quite weak; Al has been a strong guy all his life: stoic and tough. John Wayne to the core.  He is not taking old age with grace.  Even as awful as he felt after the chemo and before and after the hospitalization for the reaction to Cipro, he insisted that he was going to mow the lawn on the zero turn.  I know what battles to chose and this one I could not win. Just keep my tough old guy in your prayers please. 

My friend Leanne Bertani, who gave her “Rosie” and my “Callie” a wonderful home for so many years, recently informed me of the passing of Rosie.  Callie, Rosie’s constant companion, is now 16 and the dam of my beloved “Wendy,” Ch. Rattlebridge Dutch Treat, ROM. 

From Leanne: “Tullamore Guns & Roses: Ch Werrington Buoyancy of Rattlebridge x Sweet Lover of Wye) passed away this morning.  She had pretty good quality of life, never a cough, never any shortness of breath; she just didn’t want to eat last night, unusual for such a chow hound who normally would take your hand off for a piece of chicken. Her back legs were getting weak, so we had planned a euthanasia for Saturday when all the kids could be present.  She spared me the decision and passed away the day before it was planned.  Part of me was grateful and part of me wished I could have been holding her — she passed in her sleep, lying in my den with her friend Callie.  Laura and I took her to Schoedingers this morning; we will probably spread her ashes at a later date.”  RIP dear Rosie.

MEMORIAL DAY: 

WE REMEMBER 0UR FALLEN HEROES. MAY WE FOREVER BE GRATEFUL FOR THEIR HEROISM AND SACRIFICE TO OUR COUNTRY