Mixed Breed HELL!

Well, it seems I opened the floodgates of mixed breed hell with my last blog, “Mutt or Magic?” I should have known that discussing the mixation (my new word) of breeds would be right up there with religion, politics, raw feeding (well that seems to be dying down of late), positive training vs. the use of aversives and shock collars in hunt and obedience training and veganism.  I try to avoid all those subjects but sometimes it just can’t be helped!

Yesterday I got a bee up my butt to write about breeding one of our Poodles to a Border collie for fun and for agility. If (and that is a BIG FAT IF) I did it, I already have great homes for at least a dozen of them :). One of the many arguments against such practices is that there are already too many mixed breed dogs in the shelters. Now that is the lamest argument ever. Yes, there are too many dogs in shelters! MIXED AND OTHERWISE! I wish we could stop that. However, if I didn’t breed my Poodle to a Border collie, I would breed her to a Poodle. So, why is bringing pups into this world from a mix worse than bringing pups into this from “pure” bred parents? It makes ZERO sense to me!

Why is this such an absurdly hot button for so many on both sides? The logic against mixing dogs, as long as it is done with the welfare of the puppies and breeding dogs at the top of the check list, is lame at best. I just don’t get why people don’t see that! Breeding dogs is breeding dogs. That was the whole point of my last blog. We are still bringing puppies into this world that may or may not end up in a shelter regardless of their parentage. Hopefully, EVERY single breeder does their best to “vet” buyers and give those puppies the best possible life, “pure” or mixed. THAT is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING WHEN IT COMES TO BREEDING!!!!

When we were breeding horses, we often crossed our Connemaras with our Thoroughbreds. I LOVED that cross. Those male offspring were gelded but the females were sometimes bred back to either side depending on what the owner was looking for in the next generation. Normally just the first cross was done. Depending on how good the parents were, the results were stunning for the most part.

Mixing breeds is common in horses but in dogs we are sent straight to hell for doing it. Why is that?

Anyway, I think that one of the “purists” must have put a curse on me because today was a $#!TST0RM of CRAP (LITERALLY CAROL!).

The alarm went off at 4:45 this morning. Sir Cussalot got up, pottied dogs, made himself a sandwich and left at 5:30 with Crushie to drive up to Irwindale to the USDAA trial. I am not hot for USDAA so I stayed home with the dogs. It was nice to have the weekend off too.

He said good-bye and I turned over and tried to go back to sleep. That was a bust. I turned back over and checked the views on my blog. It was out of control! Comments flying, views skyrocketing from all over the WORLD, tempers flaring. I sure hit a lot of hot buttons! Some folks didn’t get my tongue-in-cheek humor so I had to explain it to them. I guess if you have to explain, you are not as funny as you think you are. Somebody else tried to explain to me how you create a new breed (not sure why she thought that was my goal! I am much too freaking old to even think about doing THAT!).

Anyway, pretty soon I heard retching from the other room. I got up to go see who was sick. Poor little Xoom had thrown up some yucky looking granular crap and bile. Unfortunately, she had done it on the hardest dog bed we have to wash! It is a laundromat bed only.

Puke cleaned, I went back to bed. Pretty soon I heard Xoom whining and giving me short yips to go out. She has a fit if Sir Cussalot goes out to work Crush without her so, assuming she wanted out to find Sir C and Crush, I told her to go back to sleep but the low short yips continued. I continued to ignore her.

Not too long after that I got a whiff of something really disgusting! At first I thought it was sewer gasses or that one of the several dogs on the bed with me had a gas issue. It persisted and got stronger. It was making my delicate chemo stomach turn over. With the chemo, my already incredible sense of smell is even more so. It is a curse and a blessing (when I smell orange or lemon blossoms it is a huge blessing! Dog poop not so much). I got up and walked into the living room of the Global Warmer. There it was, RUNNY CRAP EVERYWHERE! Poor little Xoom had tried to tell me she had to go but I ignored her pleas. I deserved it!

She had pooped on the same bed on which she had puked so at least she was consistent! It was watery diarrhea and had run down the bolster sides in both directions; into the bed and onto the rug. Then she had tracked it across the floor and all the other rugs. NICE! This was a job for SUPEMEL, not CHEMOME!

I cleaned it up the best I could, then took the stinking bed outside until I could get it to the laundromat. I had slipped on a pair of Birkenstocks to go outside. While out there, I looked around to see if she had done any more. She had.

I walked back into the GW and made my way back across the rugs into the bedroom and to the far back of the bedroom to the washing machine with the first rug. When I turned around I saw a streak of crap along the bedroom carpet. I followed the trail to the door before I realized that I had stepped in poop when I went out and had a huge amount on both birks! Have you ever seen the underside of Birkenstocks? CRAP!!!! They are full of squiggly lines and crevices. Plus now I had managed to make fifty million times more work for myself with my wall to wall crap spreading!

I removed the sandals, grabbed a wooden chop stick from the drawer and scraped away forever! Eventually, they were clean!

All I could smell was dog crap! I wanted to barf, but then I would have MORE stuff to clean and nobody to help me.

It took a while but I cleaned up the best I could. By that time I was wide awake so no reason to get back in bed. I got dressed and took the Morons out to walk. I grabbed the pooper scooper and off we went. That is our ritual in the morning when I feel well enough, but usually after we train. I was just too tired after all that cleaning to train, however, so we just walked. Sir C does the scooping when I am too sick.

We walked around the two acres scooping and walking, walking and scooping. Then I looked down at my shoe because it felt funny. CRAP!!!! All over the bottom of my trail running Nikes! That are even more difficult to clean than the dang birks!

I cussed for a while, grabbed a stick and sat down in the chair outside to pick away at the mess. Finally, with it all removed. We resumed the walk. The whole time I was cleaning my shoe, the Morons kept bringing me things to throw for them. Pick crap, throw toy; pick crap, throw toy… Each one had their own favorite thing for me to throw. Pankies the little soccer ball (she likes me to kick it for her), Charisse Poodle a tiny stuffed person that she loves, Barque with her white polar bear and MeMe with her stick. Xoom would just steal one of the other’s toys and bring it to me.

We walked around the place a few more times but I got pretty tired. The chemo wipes me out. I used to be able to go forever, but now I am a big fat wimp!

I can’t remember the last time I stepped in dog poop but at least a couple of years. Today I did it twice and one incident embedded that crap deeply into BOTH SHOES!

I wrote after one of the comments on my yesterday blog that I thought Adam and Eve must have created all dog breeds we see today. Then the broke the mold and etched in stone a little known commandment from God, “THOU SHALT NOT MIX BREEDS UNDER PENALTY OF HELL!

Well, today I was punished and sent straight to dog crap hell!

Either that or one of the “purists” put a curse on Sir C and me.

He didn’t get that advanced snooker leg he has been trying to get for FIVE FREAKING YEARS (ELEVEN TRIES!)! Normally it is bars, but today she turned left when he said right and went off course and she didn’t hit a bar all day long. She is such an amazing little dog and we are so blessed to have her in our lives. She is a once in a lifetime dog and that is for sure! Funny, we have had a few once in a lifetime dogs come to think about it. Great instruction!

Sir C and Crushie Qed in Gamblers, Grand Prix, Standard and Steeplechase today, but that GOSH DANG snooker Q still eludes them! They have enough Qs for an ADCH in everything else but can’t get out of advanced snooker! Last year he got it but the timer failed so the judge made him run it again! They failed the second time. I wanted to STRANGLE HER!

I am so proud of them for the rest of their runs today. Eventually they will get it. Everything happens for a reason, (right Bob? ;))

And thanks to everyone for entertaining me today while Sir C was away. All those many comments on my blog and Facebook were great fun!

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, YES I TOSSED THAT CHOPSTICK!