H-I-K-E

You know those words you have to spell out, or chaos will ensue?

T-R-E-A-T.  R-I-D-E.  W-A-L-K.

With my pack, there’s one more: H-I-K-E.  I only dare whisper it when ready to head outside.

Of course, my dogs are on the lookout for clues too. Water bottles, leashes, collapsible water bowl, scrunched-up plastic grocery bags. Add in the tell-tale doggie backpack and tennis shoes on my feet, and their suspicions are confirmed. Game on! The excited whining and yelping won’t end until we’re heading down the road.

I live on the bench of the Wasatch Front, a north-south range of the Rocky Mountains. So, we head to Millcreek Canyon, the one dog friendly canyon within easy driving distance. (Most canyons are closed to dogs to protect watersheds.)

Odd days are off-leash days. These are a favorite, especially for my hiking buddy extraordinaire: Elvis, a youngish 105-lb natural-eared Doberman with energy to spare. He’s a joy to watch on the trails. He races ahead, ears flopping. Then, losing sight of us on a turn, runs back to ensure we’re still in his wake. I continue at my meandering pace, as he flies back and forth.

With his backpack, other hikers find him more approachable. Otherwise, they sidestep him, not knowing what a big friendly galoot he is. Inevitably, I hear jokes about him carrying my load but all in good fun. He does carry his own water, though, and T-R-E-A-T-S, and those handy-dandy grocery bags for pick up along the way (gotta love that he carries out his own bags).

Buzz, my twelve-year-old beagle, tags along on short, minimal incline trails now. His speed is walking in the neighborhood, preferably less than a mile. Cinnamon, a poodle mix, goes at my pace, happy to be at my side.

We hike in all seasons. In spring, with the snow melt, Elvis splashes in the cold creeks racing down the gullies. Plants are greening and birds are singing. In summer, wildflowers dot the hillsides, lavender lupine and larkspur, snow white columbine, and deep pink Indian paintbrush.  Come autumn, the golden quaking aspens and cottonwoods and red-orange mountain maples are set off by the evergreens. Then winter again, a white wonderland.

And always breath-taking panoramic views.

So many reasons to get outside. But, the dogs don’t care why. They just care about when, and the sooner the better, today and every day. Oh, is that a backpack they see? Let the chaos begin.

H-I-K-E~Dog Fancy~June 2011

*****

“H-I-K-E” appeared in the June 2011 issue of Dog Fancy.

Pet Peeves…I Have a Few

I’ve been unleashed.

Thanks to the good folks at Pets in the City magazine, I have an editorial  column in which I can opine…sharing my pet peeves with all.

Reprinted below is my opinion piece from the October 2012 issue.

Due to limited space, the attached case study didn’t make print but is included here.

*****

Designer Dogs ~ Not Exactly Gucci

Rare is the beloved dog who lives its life with one family. Less than 35% pass their whole lives with the original owner.

More common are dogs who live with two or more families…

…Or those – stray, lost, or unwanted – who converge at shelters. At many pounds, they have but a matter of days for the right person to walk in the door. If not, death there is equal opportunity for purebreds to mutts, puppies to elderly. Annually, 1.8 to 2.4 million dogs are killed for lack of a home.

Why are so many dogs “euthanized”[1]? Too many are born to be supported as commodities in a market of supply and demand. Why? Too much breeding: casual breeding by strays and pets, but mostly purposeful breeding with the intent to sell the litters.

This long-term problem, exacerbated by puppy mills and backyard breeders, is now worsened with the clever marketing of so-called designer dogs. This trendy ploy sells mixed breeds to a public thinking they’re buying fancy new breeds (labradoodles, bogles, etc.) and paying accordingly.

Then the cycle continues: some live happily ever after, while many end up in a shelter, no longer puppies, with attention and exercise demands. And those designer dogs? Gone are the cutesy names of chiweenie or schnoodle. They’re simply mixed breeds, aka “mutts,” competing with recognizable breeds, and their numbers overwhelm the shelters. Mixed breeds comprise 75% of shelter populations.

“Designer” sounds so cool, though, like Gucci shoes and purses. Surely, designer dogs must be something special to cost hundreds to thousands of dollars. On KSL classifieds in early September, labradoodles (Labrador/Poodle mixes) cost up to $2,500. Instead of $95 paid for my poodle mix (which included spay costs) at the Humane Society, I could have paid $600 for a chorkipoo (Chihauhau/Yorkie/Poodle mix). Yet, despite the price tag, there are no AKC pedigree papers, and many are without shots. If docked, the breeder likely performed this painful procedure. And smaller breeds are sometimes sold unweaned to suggest they’ll be smaller than they really are. It’s a sham.

So why are people buying designer dogs? These dogs are labeled with colorful names to suggest they are new breeds. They’re not. Breeds take generations to establish recognized standards such as appearance, size, temperament, and intelligence. If you mix two breeds, you get mixed results, with no guarantees of which genes will dominate. One argument is that they are the “best” of the breeds involved. Maybe, but how is that determined? I also hear “low allergens” for some mixes…but that’s because at least one breed involved doesn’t shed anyway.

You want a unique, special dog? Don’t reward bad behavior. Plenty of designer dogs await you at the shelter. You’ll save your pocketbook, and you’ll save a life.


[1] Euthanasia is technically defined as painless. However, most methods are not painless. The animals are killed by lethal injection (ingredients varying), decompression chambers, gas chambers, and electrocution.

Ringo: A Case Against Designer Dogs

Ringo fit into the palm of a hand, all fluff and soooo cute. Who wouldn’t fall in love?  M & D did and shelled out $500 for this all black “designer” pup.

The seller called him a yorki-poo, not that M& D ever saw the sire and dam as she insisted on meeting at a friend’s. If there’s any Yorkshire Terrier in the DNA mix, they can’t tell. She also claimed he was 8 weeks old and wouldn’t get much larger. She lied: turned out he was younger and unweaned. Not that the size issue made a difference to M & D, but the breeder thought being a “miniature” would seal the deal. She also had docked the tail, which was too short and poorly done. And the so-called vet and shot records never materialized, despite multiple attempts to follow up with the breeder.

Ringo is one of the lucky ones, now in his sixth year with M &D. Yet, despite being raised in a loving family, he’s always been skittish and quick to nip. Theories run from his being traumatized when prematurely pulled from his mother, to simply being wired wrong. M & D console themselves that they were the ones to find him; otherwise, he would have likely been taken to a shelter by anyone less patient.  Unfortunately, they rewarded the breeder with $500, and she likely bred more Ringos as a result.

The Tail of Elvis: From Moody Blue to Stuck on You

In addition to writing, one of my great loves is dogs. At home, three own the place. Buzz, the beagle, turned 14 this year and still is as animated as when a pup (when not snoring). Cinnamon, a poodle mix, is our lap dog with the goofy grin. And Elvis, an oversized Doberman, is my hiking buddy extraordinaire.

So, imagine my excitement when I can combine my love of dogs with writing. Last year, I wrote a couple of articles for Dog Fancy about hiking with dogs. Recently, a local start-up magazine, Pets in the City, published a story about Elvis’s adoption from a local shelter, entitled “The Tail of Elvis: From Moody Blue to Stuck on You.”

Pets in the City magazine is dedicated to and encourages rescuing of companion animals, so Elvis’s story was a perfect fit. I was honored to be a guest writer in their first issue.

The editor has since asked me to write up a monthly editorial column. First up on the docket: designer dogs.  The column debuted in the October issue. If you live along the Wasatch Front, look for your copy on one of those wire stands that greet you in coffee shops and convenience stores.

Eighth Day Genesis

Featuring "Geography and the Evolution of Your World: Flora Et. Al.," by Chanté McCoy

Featuring “Geography and the Evolution of Your World: Flora Et. Al.,” by Chanté McCoy

Alliteration Ink recently published a fantastic resource for writers: Eighth Day Genesis: A Worldbuilding Codex for Writers and Creatives.  Featuring essays from 21 working writers, including the likes of novelists Tim Waggoner and Maurice Broaddus, Eighth Day Genesis covers the gamut of issues in building a plausible world, from “ecosystems, creatures, and legal systems to the ways you can most effectively share your world with your audience.”

Or, to borrow from my essay, “Geography and the Evolution of Your World: Logical Flora et.al.”:  “The goal of world building is ultimately to create a coherent, believable world with beings and cultures that are logical extensions. You’re inviting the reader as tourist to come along, and you want the world to be substantial, with plausible details (however bizarre or mundane) that make it come alive.”

The focus of my essay is flora. It’s not often one gets to write about the Puking Tree of Mozambique. So you can imagine how pleased I was to have the opportunity to discuss the very subject…in the larger context of building worlds with plants that are conceivable within their environment. Actually, the Puking Tree doesn’t fit the bill, but Treebeard and the plants of Pandora do.

While I touch on some of the sillier ones put forward in well-known stories (usually set in magical worlds) — Terry Pratchett’s sapient pearwood, J.K. Rowling’s Whomping Willow and gilly weed,  Audrey II of Little Shop of Horrors, etc. — I primarily wax on the types of plants one finds within given biomes and their evolutionary benefits. I use our planet as the launching point for this discussion. After all, Earth is the reference point for our readers; it should be for ourselves, too, however fantastic our creations.

I include examples from sci-fi and fantasy literature and movies, as well. For further inspiration, the final section covers strange and unusual plants that we fiction writers would be hard pressed to exceed: the carnivorous, moving, resurrecting, warm-blooded, super-sized, and long-living plants of planet Earth.

Flora is but one topic discussed in Eighth Day Genesis. Contents include:

Donald Bingle – Cause Ways
Maurice Broaddus – The Religious Order
Rachel Faulk – Developing a Layered, Credible, and Compelling Government
Paul Genesse – The World as a Character
Kerrie Hughes – Magic Systems
Addie King – Building Believable Legal Systems in Science Fiction and Fantasy
Rosemary Laurey – Putting Words in your Character’s Mouth
Ramsey Lundock – Creatures and Domesticated Animals
Sue Penkivech – Why Just Saying “Hitler Won” Isn’t Enough
Aaron Rosenberg – The Descartian Dilemma, or Hey, Where’d Everybody Go?
Matthew Wayne Selznick – History for History’s Sake, or No One Cares Who the Emperor
Was 500 Years Ago.  Unless They Should
Janine Spendlove – Crafting Urban Landscapes
Graham Storrs – Forming a Government
Kelly Swails – Making a Consistent World
Patrick Tomlinson – Building Worlds in a Hostile Universe
Tim Waggoner – A Sense of Style
Kathy Watness – The Work of Our Hands
Bryan Young – The Art of Restraint
Emily (EA) Younker – Shaping Societies:  Technology and Its Effects

Petroglyphs: Writing That Rocks

Capitol Reef petroglyphs

PETROGLYPHS: WRITING THAT ROCKS
(text originally published in Confetti, Fall 2001)

Before people learned to write with words, they wrote with pictures.  When a man wrote about hunting deer, he drew .  Or, if he wrote about the stars, he would draw .  At this time, writing truly was an art!

Across the world, on every continent, we still find these long ago stories.  Sometimes, they were painted on walls in the rust color of red clay or black color of charcoal.  Painted pictures are called pictographs (picto means “picture,” and graph means “writing”).  Sometimes, the pictures were carved into rock.  These pictures, known as petroglyphs (petro means “rock,” glyph means “letter”), were chipped into the dark outer layer of rock, the design exposing the lighter colored stone beneath the surface.

Near Albuquerque, NM

Near Albuquerque, NM

Today, we still use pictures to tell stories.  Before we learn to read at school, we grab crayons to talk about our families and favorite things on paper.  A lot of books have pictures.  And, if we go to the theater or turn on the television, we see moving pictures!

So, what is so cool about rock pictures?  Would you believe some are thousands of years old?  That’s a long time.  A picture on paper left outside would fall apart in days.

Maui, HI

Maui, HI

The petroglyphs in the southwestern United States are a good example.  For 5,000 years, different people—including Anasazi farmers, Pueblo and Navajo Indians, and Spanish sheep herders—used stone and bone to carve into the red canyon walls and rock formations. They drew people and animals, such as bighorn sheep, snakes, lizards, and some animals that seem imaginary.  They also drew mysterious symbols: circles, spirals, zigzags, and dots.

At Newspaper Rock in Utah, hundreds of such images cover a sandstone wall. Snakes slither, people aim spears and bows, and deer leap across the wall.  The Navajo call the rock Tsé Hané, “rock that tells a story.”

Newspaper Rock, UT

Newspaper Rock, UT

But what story does it tell?  Archaeologists, who study clues from the past, think that petroglyphs may have “said” different things.

For example, they may have indicated the presence of water, of shelter for overnight sleeping, or of animals for hunting.  At Newspaper Rock, there is a nearby stream.  The overhang would protect from rain and snow.  Deer tracks in the soil tell of deer in the area.  Could this be the message of some of the rock’s pictures?

Or, perhaps, the petroglyphs were a sign marking the boundaries of a tribe’s or a family’s land.  Pictures of men are on Newspaper Rock.  Could these be pictures of members of such a tribe or family?  Possibly one of the animalsa turtle, for example—was associated with a group of people and used to say “the Turtle Clan was here.”

Maybe the petroglyphs send a prayer or ask for blessings.  At Newspaper Rock, could the pictures be asking for deer to hunt and eat, rain for plants and drinking water, or better health for a friend?

Another idea is that petroglyphs mark sacred places, kind of like outside churches.  Are the pictures at Newspaper Rock showing ancient gods, spirits, or beings from stories explaining the world, like stained glass pictures in a church?

And, what about the squiggles, criss-crosses, and spiraling circles?  Are they showing the movements of planets in the sky, or tracking the passage of the seasons to show the right time to plant beans?  Or, are they really glyphs (letters) of a writing system of symbols, similar to Egyptian hieroglyphics?  Some archaeologists believe the petroglyphs may have been a writing system based on Indian sign language that was used by the tribes to communicate with one another.  Therefore, any tribe could understand the petroglyphs, regardless of what language they spoke.  For example, if one person spoke English, another Spanish, and yet another Chinese, they all would still recognize         as “sun” and even understand that it could represent “day,” “light,” heat,” “bright,” “sky,” or whatever else the sun brings to mind!

Who knows?  Too much time has passed. Modern man has lost this language to the past. The answer may be all these guesses or something totally different. Until the code is cracked—a rosetta stone is found—petroglyphs will remain just pretty rock art.