Perhaps because I missed so much of her puppyhood, I am somewhat sensitive about her aging. She only turned four the other day, so it’s not like she’s in diapers or anything. But for several months now, I have been fixated on her coat.

When Wire Fox Terriers are young, they have a distinct color pattern. Their bodies are mostly white, with black or tan spots (sometimes both), and their heads are brown. Well, mostly brown. The color stops around the muzzle, leaving the beard white.

But these dogs have a peculiar coat. Since they don’t shed, it’s recommended that you “strip” them, meaning you have to actually pluck out the dead hair with your fingers.

Everywhere.

When I first read this in a Wire Fox Terrier book, I was horrified. I couldn’t imagine pulling all of her hair out.

But the book stressed that this is not painful for the dog, and in fact, they can grow to like it. The author related her experience of sitting in front of the TV with her Wire Fox Terrier on her lap, pulling little tufts of hair out while the dog slept comfortably. So I thought I would give this a try.

It wasn’t good. It probably wasn’t painful, but Mac was not enjoying it. After every little pull, she would crane her head around and stare at me with wet eyes, imploring me to take up needlepoint.

I thought about doing this to her entire body, between her little toes and around her mouth and eyes, and finally I just said, fuck this. If shaving is good enough for me, it’s good enough for her.

Then I discovered that while shaving is easier, it presents a whole new problem; the dog slowly loses its color. Stripping is the only method that allows them to keep their pretty brown heads.

I was in denial. I checked her after every groom, and comforted myself that the color was still there. This may happen to other dogs, but not Mac.

And then a few months ago, I was confronted with the inevitable. I had to face the fact that my golden girl had slowly become an oatmeal, dishwater head.

This has bothered me more than I expected. In fact, it bothered me almost every time I looked at her.

I decided to try to fix it. Not just for me, of course, but for her. Because surely, when she sees her reflection in the toilet bowl, she must feel it too. And she must wonder, is this all there is? Did I fritter away my youth foolishly pursuing the ball under the couch? Should I have been more interested in the world I’ll leave behind than licking my own ass?

So I started researching ways to restore her color. I figure they dye dogs for shows, so there must be some kind of color I can use to make her feel young and beautiful again.

I read a lot, on finally settled on a particular type of henna product that does not have metallic salts in it, nor does it use peroxide, ammonia or any other harsh chemicals. In fact, this stuff is so pure you can actually eat it, though I don’t recommend it unless your only other choice is The Olive Garden.

Yesterday, I went out on to the patio with Mac, and we sat in the sunshine together while I carefully applied henna to her head. I coated her whiskers with petroleum jelly so there would be no bleed on her white beard, and combed the mud through her face and ears.

After the proper time had passed, we both got into the shower together and I lovingly shampooed her (something she actually enjoys). The whole process was very pleasant for both of us.

Until her hair dried.

Yes, I’ve turned my dog into Chester Cheetoh, and I’m horrified.

The best part of course, is that these dogs don’t shed. So she’ll look like Lucille Ball for months.

Which gives me an idea for Halloween.

So I look a little closer, and I see that this is more than a new flavor. It’s a whole new concept.

Cesar “Sunrise”.

Breakfast. For dogs.

You heard me.

Now your dog can start the day with a cheddar cheese “souffle”. Or perhaps a bacon “scramble”. Or maybe just “steak and eggs”. You know, the kind of foods your dog really wants for breakfast!

God help us all.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my dogs. I really do. But I’ve been feeding them dinner for breakfast for years, and I’ve never seen them back away from the dish in disgust. And to the best of my recollection, they’ve never begged for melon.

So do dogs really need breakfast? Do they find some dishes too heavy in the morning? Would they prefer fewer carbs so they don’t get sluggish during the workday? Has dog productivity been suffering all these years and we didn’t know it?

I don’t think so. I don’t think my dogs will get more done in a day if they start with egg whites and coffee. And I don’t think they know the difference between beef and a shoe, much less breakfast and dinner.

Let’s just get some perspective, here. We’re talking about animals who eat their own shit, and would happily do so twice a day if you put in in a dish. The more repulsive the smell, the more interested they are. They roll on dead birds, they eat the crotch out of dirty underwear, they lick your filthy feet until their eyes roll back into their heads. If Kal Kan came up with a tampon and vomit flavored kibble, they wouldn’t be able to keep in in stock.

So, no, my dogs don’t need a special food for breakfast.

I bought 12 packs.

I tried to retrieve them by running Data Rescue, a data recovery program they sold me at Apple. They said it was the best, and it could find things you deleted months ago.

What they neglected to mention was that it can’t find anything you deleted today.

The shit that Data Rescue vomited up onto my hard drive was bizarre. Bits and pieces of the weirdest, most obscure data floated up like a virtual garbage disposal.

Yes, everything I threw away, except anything of value.

Picking through the tomato skins and coffee grinds, I came across several short clips from a movie John and I made on my laptop, just a few days after we got back from our Christmas trip.

I have a terrible cold, and the quality of the clip is pretty grainy. But I was determined to get some value out of the shit I retrieved yesterday, so you’re going to watch it, and we’re going to call it a post.

Enjoy!

One of our dogs, a Wire Fox Terrier named Mac, has a thing for small spaces. Any place she can fit is the place to be.

She climbs into boxes, sits in the hamper, sleeps in the closet — she even did this last year, which was really odd. Although, to be fair, it was summer.

I don’t know for certain why she does this, but we did rescue her out of a pet shop where she’d spent 5 months in a cage. We think maybe getting into these little spaces is comforting in some way.

Anyway, we’re moving on Friday, so we’ve been packing up the place. And Mac seems to have developed an interest in empty cabinets.

Last night, as we were packing up the kitchen, we noticed Mac sniffing out the cabinet where we’d been keeping our pots and pans. We watched in amazement as she slowly crawled all the way inside, until just her tail was sticking out.

John got down on the floor and tried to coax her out, but she was too busy licking the wall at that point. So John carefully closed the cabinet door.

After about five seconds he opened it back up again, and she she was now facing the other way. It was like David Copperfeld, only entertaining.

I suppose it’s possible that she may lose interest in this little game as the years go on, and she’s solved all the mysteries she cares to.

Fortunately for us, she’s passed her love of the sport onto future generations.

Maybe they’re really modest, and they don’t talk about it all the time. Or maybe this is Los Angeles, and everyone is a fucking asshole with a screenplay or a portfolio and you’ve learned to just put that information in a quiet place where it won’t continue to to rob you of your will to live.

Well, I have an acquaintance named Robert Kirk. I’ve known him for a number of years, and I really like him. He’s one of those people that just makes your whole day when you see him. He’s funny and bright and bitter and sweet and just an absolute joy to know. I often go to the place where he works, and if he happens not to be there that day, it’s enough to get me to turn around and go home.

Robert has been talking about a web site for a while. He paints, and he’s been working on putting some of his pieces online.

Or something. I’m usually eating when he’s telling me these things, and I’m really only minimally interested in the lives of other people anyway, so I never got the whole story.

The last time I saw him, he gave me the URL for his site. He said it wasn’t quite ready, but soon. I put it into my bookmarks and checked it a few times before I went on my trip, but it wasn’t live yet.

So this morning I clicked on the link, and the site was up. And I almost soiled myself.

Who knew he was this talented?

I mean, that’s serious ability there. We’re talking about someone who can actually paint. A bona fide fine artist! And it doesn’t hurt that one of his portraits looks like my little Sully boy.

Wow. Is it really like this? Are there those among us who are gifted and wonderful and exciting, and we just don’t know it?

Maybe I need to start paying more attention to other people.

Oh God, I crack myself up.

Merujo // Oct 18, 2007 at 6:17 am

The problem I have with Ellen in this situation is that she decided, rather than work this out locally, to sob to the entire nation on her high-rated talk show.

I’m fairly certain she did try to at locally before she acted globally.

Now, from reading the crazy-ass comments that Rosie gets on her freaky website, I think we’re all aware that America’s favorite lesbian talk show hosts have a lot of unhinged fans.

And flannel shirts.

And relating an emotionally charged (potentially legal) situation to a nation of unhinged late night lonely QVC shoppers is stupid. Because some of them will do things like make death threats.

And Mark David Chapman killed John Lennon to impress Jodie Foster.

My point is that anyone with a following will attract a percentage of lunatics. You can’t second guess yourself out of saying or doing anything that might cause a deranged person to act out, because you’ll second guess yourself out of making any artistic contribution at all. How long do you think someone will keep their fan base when they start making themselves as benign as possible?

And it’s not always highly charged issues that provoke these nutjobs anyway. The most vitriolic hate mail I’ve received in the last few months came after I made fun of Dancing With the Stars.

And no matter how obnoxious folks might find the behavior of the the rescue operators, death threats are taking things way too far. And if I got threatening phone calls and e-mails suggesting I was going to die, I would probably sob as I evaded the tabloid TV reporters, too.

Well, hopefully you would really cry as opposed to pretending to cry, which is clearly what Batkis is doing in that shameful clip on Access Hollywood.

I don’t even think you can legitimately claim someone is evading reporters when they go inside, fluff up their ponytail and come out again with a prop puppy and give a self-serving monologue about what a decent person they are. That’s not evading the media, that’s using it.

And how about the three press releases she issued yesterday, and her statement to the Insider, and the radio and newspaper interviews she granted? Way to keep a low profile!

Taking this matter to a kooky national TV fanbase was an overreaction.

Calling her entire fan base “kooky” is an overreaction. I’m sure the percentage of her audience making death threats was very small.

I also believe Ellen exhausted every possible avenue with them beforehand. It’s not like Batkis is easy to work with, and I can say that from first hand experience.

And that *was* Ellen using her celebrity to sway anyone she could to her case, not making a plea to the rescue shelter.

And who wasn’t using Ellen’s celebrity? Batkis just handed the dog over without a home inspection or an application from Ellen. If she wouldn’t do that for a hairdresser, then she must have felt she had something to gain by doing it for a celebrity. Maybe it was the $3,000 check.

I’m not saying which side is right because I’m not privy to all the details. I doubt any of us are, but, jesus, this just unleashed the fruitcakes.

I also resepctfully disagree that Ellen alone unleashed the fruitcakes. Had Batkis done what she claimed she was in this business to do, had she put the best interest of the animal ahead of her own ego and made this a positive experience, Ellen would have had a very different story to tell on the air.

Anyway, I have no sympathy for people who involve themselves with celebrities and then whine about the attention.

Well I can’t argue the Anne Heche thing. And I think we’re all shocked to learn that Ellen has a hair dresser.

In any case, the hairdresser (a woman named Cheryl) called K-RTH 101 this morning.

She said she emailed Mutts and Moms, and told them she had possession of the dog. They responded very angrily and insisted she give the dog back to them. They exchanged several emails along those lines, until they agreed to allow her to fill out an application.

After they reviewed it, they wanted to do a home inspection to make sure it all checked out (talk about not being forthcoming; they actually lied about the intent of their visit). Cheryl agreed immediately, because she was confident they would be satisfied with the environment she was providing.

The moment they came in the house, they physically grabbed the dog and would not put him down. They ripped the collar off of him that had the family’s address on it, and said, “This is our dog!”. They held him for three hours like that, and wouldn’t allow him to have water or go to the bathroom.

Both parties called the police. Animal control was also called. But since Mutts and Moms never transfered ownership of the dog to Ellen (which they were required by their own contract to do after accepting her “donation”), the information on the microchip still showed them as the legal owners. The police had no recourse but to let them take the dog.

Ellen talked to Ryan Seacrest this morning, and told him there was absolutely no age provision in the contract, and that she never had to fill out an application or have a home inspection.

Mutts and Moms has twisted the knife a little further this afternoon by releasing a statement saying they have already given the dog away (wow, that was an extensive background check, huh?) and that they are relieved Iggy is “finally, in a safe home.”