March Madness    

He is the lead dog setting the pace for the rest of the team urged on my his master's whip. His feet are cracked and bleeding, his lungs are on fire and still he races on… 

It has been called “The Last Great Race on Earth” and is unlike any other event in the world. A race over 1150 miles of the roughest terrain Mother Nature has to offer. She throws jagged mountain ranges, frozen rivers, dense forests, desolate tundra and miles of windswept coast at the mushers and their dog teams. Add to that Godforsaken temperatures far below zero, winds that can cause a complete loss of visibility, the hazards of overflow, long hours of darkness and treacherous climbs and side hills, and you have the Iditarod.  

The race was the brainchild of a woman named Dorothy Page, who in 1967 was searching for a proper way to mark the Alaska Centennial Celebration. Why not, she thought, honor the state's great "race" in 1925 to save the children of Nome from a diphtheria outbreak? That's when teams of mushers drove their dog teams in relays to bring precious diphtheria serum 674 miles from Nenana to Nome. It was a courageous and heroic act by 20 mushers and their dogs.  

But something got lost in the translation. Today's race is no relay. It is a grueling marathon of epic proportions. The 1925 run, accomplished by 20 teams working in relays, took three weeks. Half of the serum run was done by train. Dogs ran in relays for the remaining 674 miles, with no dog running more than 100 miles.  

Today, one team is pushed to travel 1,150 miles (over terrain far more grueling than the terrain found on the serum run route) in eight to 10 days, which averages out to about 140 miles a day with little or no rest. It is a race that has never been run in which dogs didn't die. Death is merely an occupational hazard for the dogs. They have been literally driven into the ground in the name of this sport. More than an estimated 130 dogs have perished during the history of the race. The number of dog deaths does not include animals that perished afterward — or the thousands that have been injured. On average, half of the dogs that start the grievous gauntlet are unable to finish due to complications such as spinal injuries, bone fractures, sore and cut paws, ruptured tendon sheaths, torn muscles, sore joints, dehydration, stress and diarrhea, bleeding stomach ulcers, hypothermia, penile frostbite, pneumonia and viruses. According to a study published in the American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine in 2002, 81 percent of the dogs who finish the Iditarod have lung damage.  

Many Iditarod dogs have gastric ulcers which predispose the dogs to vomiting. Normally, the trachea closes the airway so that foreign material does not enter the lungs. But because these dogs run at such high speeds for such a long period of time, they cannot stop gasping for air despite the vomiting. Consequently, dogs inhale the vomit into their lungs which causes suffocation and death. The use of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) is the most common cause of gastrointestinal ulceration in small animals. Rimadyl, aspirin, ibuprofen, naproxen are just some of the NSAIDs that cause ulcers. These drugs reduce swelling, inflammation, relieve pain and fever, which allows the dogs to run farther and faster.  

Advocates of the race would have you believe that the dogs love it. That there is a noble purpose in the adventuresome spirit of competition, and a loving bond between musher and dog. You either buy into the rugged-outdoors adventurism of the Iditarod as a celebration of endurance and courage, or you see it as America's most widely accepted display of animal abuse, a grotesque shame masquerading as sport. Using dogs as they are used in this race would be illegal in many states, yet Alaskans somehow romanticize the event as part of their wilderness heritage. 

Do you really think the dogs love the struggle that sometimes kills a fellow member of the team? Do you really think they love running when they're sick, injured or exhausted in conditions where wind chill temperatures push down to 60 degrees below zero? Or fighting 50 mph sustained winds with gust of up to 75 mph where the winds literally pick up whole teams and throw them off the trail. Where they have to relieve themselves on the run and the stressful conditions cause them to have such bad diarrhea that loose fecal matter is constantly flying in the faces of the dogs behind inducing serious ocular, respiratory and gastrointestinal infections. Where they are pushed to the point that they are too tired to even eat. They can only lay on the frozen ground and whimper while licking their paws. Yeah, they love it.  

Any human being with a smidgen of decency should have nothing to do with the Iditarod. It should be outlawed. No dog wants to run so far and so fast. -Karyn Moltzen

To Whoever Gets My Dog  Back to top 

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, 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.  

For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls - he wouldn't go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got tossed in with all of my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn't really think he'd need all his old stuff, that I'd get him new things once he settled in. But it became pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn't going to.

I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones like "sit" and "stay" and "come" and "heel," and he'd follow them - when he felt like it. He never really seemed to listen when I called his name - sure, he'd look in my direction after the fourth of fifth time I said it, but then he'd just go back to doing whatever. When I'd ask again, you could almost see him sigh and then grudgingly obey.

This just wasn't going to work. He chewed a couple shoes and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I could tell.

The friction got so bad that I couldn't wait for the two weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search mode for my cell phone amid all of my unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the "damn dog probably hid it on me"

Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter's number, I also found his pad and other toys from the shelter. I tossed the pad in Reggie's direction and he snuffed it and wagged, some of the most enthusiasm I'd seen since bringing him home. But then I called, "Hey, Reggie, you like that Come here and I'll give you a treat." Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction - maybe "glared" is more accurate - and then gave a discontented sigh and flopped down. With his back to me.

Well, that's not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the shelter phone number. But I hung up when I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that, too. "Okay, Reggie, "I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice..."

"To Whoever 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. If you're reading this, it means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab after dropping him off at the shelter. He knew something was different. I have packed up his pad and toys before and set them by the back door before a trip, but this time...it's like he knew something was wrong. And something is wrong... Which is why I have to go to try to make it right. 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 hordes 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 it, so be careful - really, don't do it by any roads. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost him dearly.

Next, commands. Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I'll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones - "sit," "stay," "come," "heel." He knows hand signals: "back" to turn around and go back when you put your hand straight up; and "over" if you put your hand out right or left. "Shake" for shaking water off, and "paw" for a high-five. He does "down" when he feels like lying down - I bet you could work on that with him some more. He knows "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business. I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his ears like little pieces of hot dog.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He's up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with yours; they'll make sure to send you reminders for when he's due. 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. I've never been married, so 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. Which means that this transition is going to be hard, with him going to live with someone new. And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you.... His name's not Reggie.
I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter, I told them his name was 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. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting that I'd never see him again. And if I end up coming back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it means everything's fine. But if someone else is reading it, well... well it means that his new owner should know his real name. It'll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you'll even notice a change in his demeanor if he's been giving you problems.

His real name is Tank. Because that is what I drive.

Again, if you're reading this and you're from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. 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 colonel 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.

Well, this letter is getting downright depressing, even though, frankly, I'm just writing it for my dog. I couldn't imagine if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family. But still, 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 and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me. 

That unconditional love from a dog is what I took with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless, to protect innocent people from those who would do terrible things... and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have done so. He was 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. I don't think I'll say another good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the first time. 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 over 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 away from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back......he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

Live Simply, Love Generously, Care Deeply, Speak Kindly

It's a Matter of Respect.  Back to top

The day started out just like any other. I rolled out of bed, read my paper through bleary eyes with a strong cup of coffee and the help of Finn and Johnny. They like  reading the paper in the morning too. Only problem is I can not read anything with 23 pounds of Maine Coon laying on the headlines and a very mischievous kitten ripping it apart section by section. I finally give up and start my morning routine.  

Clean kitty boxes, give the dogs their morning cookies, shower, makeup, make my bed, and out the door kissing my husband goodbye as I fly past him. I am running late...seems like I am always running late.

Driving down Reserve Street, my mind is running through the thousand things I have to do when I get into the office. At the corner of 3rd and Reserve I see something in the middle of the road. As I proceed through the light, I realize it is a cat. Oh no!  I think to myself. I can't leave it there to get run over again and again. With the traffic bumper to bumper and moving fast there is no where I can flip a U-turn, so I drive to Mullan Road and turn around in the Daily's Meats parking lot. Driving back I am praying that by some miracle the cat is alive, and I can save its life. I pull up beside him and jump out of my car stopping three lanes of rush hour traffic. I knelt down and pick up his lifeless body. He is beautiful. Holding him close I carry him to my car. I don't care about the blood. I know it will probably ruin my coat, but that does not matter to me.  I can see that he was someone's beloved pet, for his coat is in good condition and he was well fed. My heart sinks knowing what kind of void his passing will create for the family he was apart of. The family who lost their beautiful boy on that dreary October morning.

I put him gently on the rug I keep on the back seat of my car. Traffic resumes slowly as I climb behind the wheel. I am taking him to be cremated. He will not end up in the landfill or flattened in the middle of the road. It is the least I can do.

After I drop him off and I continue on to work. Turning on to West Broadway, I am just one block from the office and there again in the middle of the road is a big black and white cat. Once again, I stop traffic and pick up the second lifeless body off the middle of the road. I burst into tears, not able to contain myself any longer. His coat is dirty and course. For a homeless cat, survival is always more important than grooming. It is obvious to me that he has spent a big part of his life scrounging for food anywhere he could get it. Still on my knees, I cradle him in my arms, tears streaming down my face. I am so overcome with sadness I can hardly get to my feet. I think of his life, without the love of a family, without the warmth of a home, always wondering if he would eat tonight. At that very moment I thought to myself, I will always wear this blood stained coat  .  I will never forget this cat who won't be missed by anyone.  And I take him too, to be cremated. It is the least I can do. 

How many of us have driven by? Why don't we stop? Are we in such a hurry that we can't take a moment out of our busy lives to give a little consideration to another being? Are we worried that we will ruin a coat? Like us, these animals have a right to be treated with respect. We should stop and pick them up. It's the least we can do. And...it is  a matter of respect.

You may not be as committed as I am nor as willing to risk life and limb dodging traffic scooping up small bodies, but maybe when you come across the next small body on the road, instead of jumping out and dodging traffic, think about what you can do to help.  Maybe it’s fostering a small kitten, or helping your poor neighbor spay or neuter their cat, or simply finding time to come pet a happy and healthy kitty at our adoption center.  The good thing about these horrible predicaments is that there are so many ways that we as individuals can contribute to a better life for our little four legged friends. Thanks for caring! 

“   I am in favor of animal rights as well as human rights. That is the way of a whole human being.” - Abraham Lincoln 

  Pit Bulls...Fighting for their lives

The effects of in breedingBack to top
Meet Puff and Little Bit....

Puff  was born with only half of his back leg. His foot is missing so he walks on his “knee”.  Whenwe first got him, he had an open wound at the end of his leg because there is no cushion between the skin, the bone and the floor. But you can't tell a cat not to use his leg ....well, you can... but he won't listen. He is so full of kitten charm and curiosity that he has no idea there is anything wrong with him. He charges around the office with his catnip mouse, tossing it up into the air and catching it, racing to and fro (the mouse is very fast... but Puff is faster).  He is quite a little rascal.

Little Bit was born with her left front leg missing. She has about one inch of leg below her shoulder.  She hasn't quite figured out that all four legs don't touch the floor. When she walks, she steps down on the missing leg and her chest almost touches the floor before she realizes that the leg isn't there. When she uses the kitty box she rests her chest on the side of it to keep herself from falling over. (She is very resourceful.) She is the tiniest of kittens...barely anything to her, she only weighs two pounds.   
These kittens are a product of inbreeding.  Life outside would not be easy for them. I am not so sure Little Bit would have made it. This is one of the reasons it is so important to spay and neuter.
Nature goes to great lengths to discourage inbreeding. Related animals rarely mate, which prevents genes for diseases and defects from coming together with any great frequency. Sometimes circumstances give animals no choice but to mate with relatives. If those conditions persist for any length of time they create a "genetic bottleneck." Inbreeding reduces fertility, vigour, overall health and mental stability. Inbred animals are more prone to sickness and disease as it always affects the immune system. A feral colony or barn cats that are isolated from other cats, by geography  or other factors, can become very inbred especially if a dominant male mates with his sisters, then with his daughters and grand-daughters. When he is deposed it will most likely be by his own son or grandson which
therefore continues the inbreeding. The effect of any deleterious genes becomes noticeable in later generations as the majority of the offspring inherit these genes. Within such colonies there may be a higher than average occurrence of certain traits. Some are not serious, such as a predominance of calico pattern cats  and polydactyly (multiple toes on each foot).  Dwarfism, miscarriages and physical defects on the other hand are serious, and will begin to show after about three generations.

A cat left to make it's own way in the world needs all the help it can get. A strong immune system and all four legs are essential for survival. These precious little kittens will not have to worry about the perils of living outdoors anymore because they are in the safe and loving arms of AniMeals.

Prisoners of Greed - Bred to Death Back to top

Dogs hold a special place in our hearts. Domesticated thousands of years ago, they were chosen to be our protectors, companions, and best friends. And although we have betrayed our responsibility towards them in many ways, none is so distressing or disturbing as the puppy mill. The word "mill" refers to an operation that churns out dogs in mass, using female dogs as nothing more than breeding machines, valued not for their companionship or loyalty, but for the cold hard cash they bring. These dogs spend their whole lives crowded in wire cages, living in their own wastes, shivering from the cold, or baking in the heat.  Most people are shocked when confronted with the bleak images of dogs housed and bred in puppy mills.
Many people possess an image of puppies at a family farm, lovingly raised and cared for. Others may not even think about where a pet store puppy comes from. Drawn to a pet store window by a bin of wriggling puppies, the furthest thing from a customer's mind is the origin of these cute bundles of fur. But by buying a puppy, the consumer is unknowingly supporting a cycle of abuse that begins at the puppy mill.

What the consumer can't see is the puppy's mother, imprisoned miles away, pregnant again, her body being used to produce more money-making puppies. Starting at six months, she is bred every heat cycle. She is often weak, malnourished, and dehydrated. Rarely, if ever, is she provided with veterinary care. She knows no human kindness, she is sick, filthy, her coat is matted with urine and feces, and her toenails are grown completely around piercing her little feet. She cannot maintain her productivity past her fourth or fifth year. After that, she is nothing more than a drain on the mill's operation and must be disposed of. More often than not, she will be shot or bludgeoned to death. Discarded, her wasted body will lie forgotten in a local landfill or garbage dump.

There are 5,000 puppy mills across the country that produce well over 500,000 puppies a year. They insist that it doesn't make good business sense to sell sick puppies or house breeding females in less than humane conditions. But evidence gained after years of documentation and investigation directly conflicts with these
assertions. Only half of the dogs bred at puppy mills make it to the pet store; the other half die from the mill’s squalid conditions, hypothermia, starvation, or other horrors of transport.

It is virtually impossible to breed in a humane fashion and make money at the same time. In order to make a profit and cover costs, corners must be cut, and puppies must be churned out at a furious rate. The cut corners are the animals themselves: their housing, their health, their cleanliness. Until the demand for mass-produced pet store puppies decreases, there will always be a buck to be made in the production of dogs.

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. Puppy mills and the pet store industry have begun to feel the scrutiny. No one has more power to fight puppy mills than the consumer. In each individual's hands is the ability to stop the cycle of abuse that ends with the purchase of a puppy mill puppy at a pet store. Collectively, we can fight an industry that views dogs as mere profit machines. Dogs, our best friends and companions, deserve our best effort. After all the licks, wags, and love they have given us, we owe them this fight.

Don't Buy A Dog From A Pet Store.
It's that simple. Most puppies sold in pet stores come from puppy mills. After years of artfully dodging the question of how AKC papers could be registered to dogs and puppies found in the worst of puppy mills, the AKC itself is admitting the misconceptions that are connected with purebred papers. When you're ready to bring a dog into your life, visit your local animal shelter. Millions of homeless dogs are waiting at animal shelters for life-long, responsible homes. You won't be supporting the puppy mill industry, and at the same time, you'll be fighting the tragic pet overpopulation problem. If you are interested in a particular breed, your animal shelter can help you locate a breed specific adoption group that will match you with the type of dog you want.

Living in the Grey Zone – the Plight of Feral Cats Back to top

In today's world, feral cats exist because of irresponsible pet ownership. They are the offspring of abandoned pets, unaltered strays that previously lived in human homes, but now are forced to live on the street.  They are born outdoors and usually hidden by their mothers; they have had little or no human contact in the formative months. Not socialized to humans, they view people as a danger.  Raised without human contact, they quickly revert to a wild state and form colonies wherever food and shelter are available. As they are often nocturnal, you may not be aware of their presence or total colony size. Neither pets nor fully wildlife, feral cats live somewhere in the grey zone.  

Some feline experts now estimate 70 million feral cats live in the United States, the consequence of people assuming their cats will survive on their own when they move away. They live on the streets, in parks, in parking lots, and in the shadows of human civilization.
The number concerns wildlife and ornithology organizations that believe these stealthy predators decimate bird populations and threaten public health. Predation is the most controversial issue surrounding feral cats.  Certainly cats do kill birds, but no one has a clear handle on the exact numbers. Most of us love birds as much as we love cats. So we are not trying to choose one species over another, we are trying to come up with a solution that benefits everybody involved. The goal is to reduce the feral cat population.
Eradication is the traditional method for feral cat control, although several studies show that eradication programs do not work. Cats are removed, but the food source – rodents, dumpsters, etc. – remains. Thus, the surviving cats have less competition for food. They will breed several times a year, quickly recolonizing. A study by Karl Zaunbrecher, DVM, published in The Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association, also showed that removal creates a vacuum, which can be followed by an influx of an equal number of new
cats. In little time, you are back to square one. Killing is not the answer.

Julie Levy is a veterinarian and professor at the University of Florida College of Veterinary Medicine in Gainesville. She says the answer to permanently reducing wild cat populations is through the Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) method, in which entire colonies of cats are trapped, vaccinated, and sterilized by a veterinarian. Homes are found for young kittens, which can be tamed. Healthy adults that are too wild to be adopted are returned to their familiar habitat outdoors, where volunteer caregivers feed and look after them for the remainder of their lives.
An established colony will defend its territory to protect the food source, limiting the addition of new cats to the group; for this reason, leaving spayed and neutered cats in a colony is the best deterrent to population growth. The TNR approach stabilizes the colonies and eliminates many of the problems people find annoying about feral cats. Spraying and urine odor abates; mating yowls are eliminated; and fighting is reduced.

Feral cats exist due to people's failure to make a lifetime commitment to cats in their care and their reluctance to spay/neuter.  Killing the victims of such negligence should not be a consideration. For decades, the public has been apathetic regarding the plight of these homeless animals. It is time for us to take responsibility for the tragedy we have created.

How Sweet It .... Isn't.  The Dangers of Xylitol Back to top

A sugar substitute found in a variety of sugar-free and dietetic cookies, mints and chewing gum is proving highly toxic, even fatal, to snack-snatching dogs. Xylitol can be "very, very serious" to dogs when ingested, says the Animal Poison Control Center of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

"It doesn't take a whole lot (of xylitol), and the effects are so rapid that the window of opportunity to treat the dog is extremely small.” Within 30 minutes of consuming a small amount of a xylitol-sweetened product, dogs can experience a dramatic drop in blood sugar, and they usually begin vomiting, become lethargic and can have difficulty standing or walking. Some have seizures, develop internal hemorrhaging and lesions and suffer liver failure. As few as two or three sticks of xylitol gum could be toxic to a 20-pound dog.

Immediate and aggressive veterinary treatment, which includes glucose drips and IV fluids, has proved effective in many cases. The ASPCA's poison control unit has received scores of reports of dogs becoming gravely ill.

It's not always entirely clear what has caused the problem when a dog arrives at a veterinarian's office with seizures or liver failure. It is suspected that there are more cases than those reported because they come in with liver failure, and the owner is not aware of what has been ingested.

Right now, xylitol is used mostly in cookies, candies, cupcakes and other sweets developed for people who have diabetes. It's also sold in bags of crystals for baking. Because of its bacteria-killing properties, it is put into some oral care products, including Tom's All Natural and Biotene toothpastes. It also is beginning to be used in a broad assortment of products including: Jello, sugar-free puddings, and a wide variety of sugar-free gums, including Trident, Orbit, Stride, Icebreakers and Altoids.

Makers of products with xylitol say their products were never recommended for dogs and were neverintended to be ingested by dogs. “Owners should be careful because some dogs get into just about everything and eat everything they find.”

There is no indication that any of the other sweeteners on the market adversely affect dogs. And there is no evidence so far that xylitol is toxic to pets other than dogs. But cats, for example, don't scavenge for sweets as dogs do, so it's possible there are risks that have not yet been discovered. For now, veterinarians advise pet owners to keep
xylitol away from all animals.

...AND MORE TOXIC FOODS TO BE AWARE OF....

GRAPES AND RAISINS
These fruits can cause acute kidney failure mainly in dogs, depending on their sensitivity. Just a handful can be disastrous. In fact, just five or six grapes can kill a 20-pound dog. So little is known about their toxic potential that experts, including those at the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, say don't give these to your dog or cat in any amount. In fact, don't even let your kids give the dog a bite of a cookie with raisins.
Symptoms: Vomiting, loss of appetite, diarrhea, abdominal pain and lethargy.

ONIONS AND GARLIC
Humans sure like them, but they contain a substance that zaps red blood cells in dogs and cats, causing a form of anemia, according to the Website wisegeek.com. Onions are worse for your pet than garlic, and raw ones are more toxic than cooked. They seem to be worse for cats than dogs.
Symptoms: Labored breathing, vomiting, diarrhea and discolored urine.
CHOCOLATE AND COCOA

These contain two toxins for pets - caffeine and a substance called the obromine. Unsweetened baking chocolate, semi-sweet and dark chocolate are more toxic than milk chocolate. Be vigilant during the holidays. Dogs get into Easter baskets all the time. And we see problems at Christmas and Halloween.
Symptoms often don't surface for several hours, falsely causing some pet owners to believe nothing is wrong. Toxicity depends on the size of your pet and the amount and type of chocolate consumed. Symptoms include vomiting, diarrhea, increased heart rate and panting, muscle tremors, seizures, coma or death.
MACADAMIA NUTS
This is another new one. It isn't clear what toxin exists in macadamia nuts - an ingredient in some cookie recipes but dogs can become very ill. Up to nine or 10 are poisonous for a 20-pound dog.
Symptoms: Weakness, depression, vomiting, unsteadiness or drunk acting, muscle pain, joint pain and swelling. 

To Kill Or Not To Kill...that is not the question anymore. Back to top

We live in a shallow, throw away society. An estimated ten million animals are abandoned to the streets or shelters every year. While some reasons animals are surrendered to a shelter are unavoidable, (life has a way of throwing us curve balls) others can be prevented. People give all kinds of reasons why they surrender their animals, from the tragic to the ridiculous. The latest studies indicate that most homeless pets are abandoned by people in their thirties that are moving, or changing their lifestyles. Every animal that ends up in a shelter or on the streets has a story that involved someone's choice. We need to remember that a pet is for life. And every life is precious.

Five million animals are being killed annually in shelters across the country. The national average is half of all dogs and 70% of cats. In my way of thinking, killing homeless pets is unacceptable. The decision to end an animal's life is an extremely serious one and should be treated as such. We need to stop killing animals just because they have lost their homes, and take euthanasia off the table as our solution to pet overpopulation. There is a huge No-Kill movement gaining momentum across the country where all healthy or treatable animals, including feral cats, are saved. Far too many shelters and even some national animal protection organizations still cling to outmoded, failed policies and rigid shelter protocols instead of embracing no-kill approaches. They lose sight of individual animals and as a result the animal loses it's life.

No Kill requires community involvement. Sterilization is the single most effective way to stop pet overpopulation in it's tracks. Studies have shown that cost and access- not irresponsibility-are the primary reasons people do not alter their pets. Veterinarians are on the front lines when it comes to this issue. They have an enormous impact when they participate in low cost spay and neuter clinics/programs. “Philosophical reasons for not doing it” just doesn't cut it when the leading cause of animal deaths in this country is euthanasia. Ask your vet if he/she participates in these programs. Give your business and support to those vets that do participate.

Become part of the NoKill movement. Get your animals spayed/neutered. Encourage your friends to do the same. Volunteer at spay/neuter clinics. Save the life of an animal by becoming a foster parent.

Ending the killing of healthy and treatable pets means building the programs, facilities, and community involvement necessary to lower birthrates, and increase adoptions. The challenges are great, but not insurmountable. The bottom line is...these animals need to go home... alive.

BABY BOOM Back to top

Kitten season-the time of year when cats give birth, flooding animal shelters across the nation with homeless litters. Although kitten “season” is primarily three seasons in one, starting in spring, peaking in early summer, and ending in the fall, vets are seeing more and more pregnant cats all throughout the year.  In every community in the nation, there is an over-abundance of unsterilized cats, both owned and unowned. These unwanted cats and kittens, when not left on the street to fend for themselves, often turn up in high volume at the local shelters.

Kitten season presents many challenges for shelter staff and the cats in their care.  Resources already hard to come by-like food, money and space-are often stretched to the limit with the onslaught of these
homeless  little creatures. Typically, the adult cats feel the most immediate effects, as they are often overlooked by potential adopters when kittens are in abundance. Even when people come in to specifically adopt an older cat their heads are often turned by the adorable kittens.

As shelters struggle to accommodate as many cats as possible, the risk of illness also increases. As they reach their capacity, the close quarters cause the cats additional stress, and they begin to spread germs, get sick and the whole population suffers.

The animals aren't the only ones who feel the effects of the stress. The burden carries over to shelter staff and vet services as they attempt to cope with the overwhelming number of cats. Rescue groups and foster families scramble to make room. It is critical that the very young kittens are placed in foster rather than a shelter because of a condition known as “failure to thrive”.  A kitten's odds are greatly diminished when their first days are spent in a shelter.  They NEED a home.

You can make a difference...here's how you can get involved:

1. The easiest way to help reduce the number of unwanted cats and kittens is to spay and neuter your own cat and encourage others to do the same. It makes a huge difference.
2. Help your local shelters. Donate supplies, money, or your time. Contact Missoula Animal Control, The Western Montana Humane Association and AniMeals and find out what's needed most.
3. Care for homeless or feral ( they are homeless descendants of an abandoned pet) cats in your area.
Work with the shelters & feral cat groups to help control your neighborhood's feral and stray cat populations.
4. Become a foster parent.
5. Adopt. Open your home to a new cat or adopt a playmate for your existing pets.

Spaying and neutering our pets and feral cats is simply the most effective way to stop the tragedy of the vast numbers of animals who are born, only to die prematurely, never having a
family to love them.

FASHION TO DIE FOR Back to top

Fur is back ....and the fashion industry should hang its head in shame. There isabsolutely no excuse for using fur for human vanity.  The fur should remain on the animal as God intended. There was a time when women would  not have dared venture out onto the streets wearing fur, for fear of someone throwing paint on them.  But this winter, it seems, this is no longer the case.  Fur is back with a vengeance.  It is everywhere. On pockets, on sweaters, on skirts, on belts, on cuffs and lining collars. What ever happened to “I would rather go naked than wear fur”?

50 million animals are killed for their fur world wide every year. China is the leading source of fur imported into the United States.  An estimated 2 million dogs and cats are being skinned, every year in China, which has a history of cruelty to animals. Yes, you read that right...dogs and cats.  In 1998 the Burlington Coat Factory was found to be selling dog fur-trimmed garments to an unwitting American public, labeled as "Mongolia Dog Fur," one of the many names used for domestic dog fur from China.  In response, the U.S. Congress enacted the Dog and Cat Protection Act of 2000, which prohibits the import of any dog or cat fur product making it a  Federal offense. On
December 11, 2006,  The Humane Society of the United States accused the Burlington Coat Factory of once again selling coats trimmed with real animal fur. BCF is billing the fur, “faux”.  The hooded, down jackets carry the Baby Phat label. The HSUS is conducting DNA testing on the garments in question.   The garment label says  it's raccoon or coyote from China. The HSUS believes it to be dog or cat fur.  Baby Phat refuses to comment.

Fur is fatal. An animal dies for each fashion item, and that death isn't pretty.  If people realized the incredible cruelty associated with the fur trade, the industry would die overnight.  Do some research.  You will be outraged.
If you like the furry look, go faux. When you buy faux, you save an animal's life.  You can buy faux and real fur from the same rack so be sure to read the label.  If in doubt, DON'T buy it. Synthetic fabrics have eliminated the need for fur apparel.  The R value (how heat retention is measured) of faux fur and real fur is actually about the same. Make the world a better place by using compassion when you choose your fashion. Wear clothing that makes you look good on the outside and feel good on the inside. Boycott fur and save a life.

Black Dog Syndrome Back to top

“My name is Max. I have been here at the shelter for months now. I am not invisible. I am not hidden in the back. I’m right here in plain sight in the kennel next to the cute dogs, and the puppies, and the small dogs, and the light colored dogs.  People walk by me every day…but no one sees me. I am black. Shelter life is taking its toll on me. I am getting depressed because nobody wants me. Please, please, look at me. Take me home and I promise I’ll be a good boy. I will do my best and try to make you proud. I will be there to greet you when you come home and be your faithful companion till the last beat of my heart. If only you will give me a chance…”

Max’s story is a common one and unfortunately his days are numbered. Most people are not aware of how doomed black dogs are when they are brought to the average animal shelter. They are usually the last, if at all, to be adopted…particularly big black dogs like Labradors or Lab mixes. It is a fact known to most pet store owners and the reason why they stock light colored animals.

Take a walk down kennel row and you’ll see the same dog over and over again. They don’t look exactly alike but the similarities are astounding. They are over 50 pounds, Lab mix, Shepard mix, Rotty mix, Chow mix, black dogs often with a little crest of white or brown on their chest. Most of these dogs never make it out of the shelters they are turned into. They are euthanized in horrifying rates across the country. They are just too ordinary.

If you are thinking about adopting a dog, please don’t overlook black dogs. They will never clash with your furniture and they will always go with that little black dress. 

Black is beautiful….

Unchain your Dog Back to top

All people would agree that the intentional physical abuse of a dog is a terrible thing. Yet there is another cruel practice to which dogs are subjected far more frequently than corporal abuse. It is a form of mistreatment which is also devastating and painful to a dog, yet often fails to be regarded as abuse at all. It is neglect. Because dogs, like human beings, are pack animals, they, like us, need to socialize in order to remain psychologically healthy. Since domestication, however, companion dogs no longer have packs of dogs with which to live. As a result, they consider humans to be their families, and we serve as their surrogate “pack”. Keeping a dog isolated in a back yard results in miserable, lonely dogs who exhibit aberrant behavior and often annoying traits, such as persistent barking and whining. For the dog, the absence of affection and attention is tragic. You couldn't invent a worse punishment than to keep a dog permanently chained.

Imagine being chained to a tree year after year. You watch the back door hoping someone will come out to play with you. No one ever does. Sometimes you get tangled in your chain. You shiver in the winter and pant in the hot summer sun. Eventually you stop barking. You have given up hope.

Some dogs live their entire lives chained outside. Many of these dogs sit, lay, eat, and defecate in the same 10 foot radius. Chained by the neck, they exist without respect, love, exercise, social interaction, and sometimes even basic nourishment.  They live as prisoners, yet long to be pets.

If you are concerned about a dog who is chained outside without proper shelter, food or water please contact Missoula Animal Control. Even if the owner's are not violating any laws, the animal control
officer may be able to persuade the dog owner to take steps to improve the situation. In some instances, persuading the owner to give up the dog is the best solution for the animal.
A dog is a social being that should live and sleep inside the house like the rest of the family. To banish a dog to the backyard while the rest of his “family”live, enjoy one another, and sleep inside goes against a dog's most basic instincts. And it is no way to treat man's best friend. Your dog is depending on you to make his life a good one or a terrible one. His fate is in you hands. If you can't give your dog a happy life, should you even have him?

For more information visit  www.unchainyourdog.org

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE Back to top

If you've ever helped take care of a group of feral cats in you neighborhood, you know that it can be one of life's truly rewarding experiences.Feral cats (or alley cats) are not the same as strays. Strays, who once had a home, can usually be rescued and put in a good new home. Ferals, on the other hand, are born on the streets and never connect with people at an early age. They tend to be wary of people and usually cannot adjust to being brought into a home.
People often talk about the unconditional love that our pets have for us. But I'm always especially struck by the unconditional love that's shown to feral cats by the people who care for them.

That's because, unlike your pets at home, a feral cat is never going to show its appreciation by jumping into your lap or purring in your ear. The reward of caring for ferals is simply knowing that you've done good for them. The cats themselves will almost always keep their distance-a bit like the birds and squirrels who come to your bird feeder, the ducks who visit your pond, and other urban wildlife who like to come by but are not pets. But if feral cats are not pets, they are not quite wildlife either. They exist somewhere between the two.

They may have grown up in the urban “wild”, but nature has not equipped them for life on the streets of a modern city. So they are very dependent on the kindness of people. With good care, most ferals can live a decent life. Even without care, they can eke out an existence on their own. Indeed, some of them learn to do very well for themselves.
Of course, there's always a danger that they will get sick or be injured and come to a sticky end. For that reason, certain animal rights organizations hold the view that the “kindest” thing to do for feral cats is to gather them up and kill them-thus sparing them the possibility of present or future suffering. This approach may be well intentioned, but it is, in our view, completely misguided.
Life on earth has never been a bed of roses. It may never be. But no living creature wants to give up. We all have a basic instinct to survive and to live the best life we possibly can-feral cats included.

Once any of us starts undermining an animals' own will to live, we have begun to play God, preemptively deciding who shall live and who shall die. It's understandable that well-meaning people under stress can get into the head space of “Since we can't look after them better, perhaps we should kill them.” But the whole premise is upside down. The real questions is: “Since killing them is obviously wrong, what can we do and how can we work together to help them have a better life?” By agreeing that killing is no longer an acceptable way of helping cats, we automatically commit ourselves to finding new and better options. And, as anyone who has cared for feral cats knows, that's what unconditional love is all about.
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