Fat & Crippled

Mishka, Week 1

2011-06-26T19:13:00.000-04:00

Feeling pretty maxed out. Not keeping a kennel diary, which I probably should, but am instead just relying on memory and reading the pack.

Mishka is settling in pretty well; the only problems are Manasha, who is playing a bit too rough, and the fact that we're erring on the side of caution and keeping them separated unless we're closely supervising. He's doing fine with the two mals.

I predict problems for Max. Mishka, at about 3 months old, growls whenever Max gets too close to him, and Mishka doesn't back down. We're going to have to watch that pair.

Mishka had a busy day yesterday; big playtime in the morning, then it was off to puppy kindergarten, where he fine, displaying zero aggression towards any of the other dogs or people, even when one family insisted on chasing Mishka and I around the room while on lead - leading me to eventually stop, and start telling their dog "No", since they weren't going to control her.

After that, we bbq'd, and then took an evening stroll down at the Towpath, the first time the little man was out on a "big dog" walk. We kept it short, and Sharon carried him for a portion, making sure he was not overstressed.

He & Sharon are bonding quite well.

Really not much to note: the only toilet "accidents" were on Monday night, and simply diarrhea brought on by stress and a grain intolerance, and he couldn't control that.

Switched him over to Wellness Core Adult Food on Tuesday afternoon, and he's been fine ever since.

He's a quick learner. Knows his name, displays recall, sits fairly reliably...he quickly learns desired behavior if linked with a food reward. Typical moot.

I'm sure there's more I should note, but I'm pretty incoherent at this point, and feel as though I'm just rambling.

The Pack Changes

2011-06-20T08:57:00.000-04:00

Long time, no update - seems like life just moves along, ebbing and flowing, with no real changes to note. Other than training, which I don't log here, what can I talk about? Work? Yeah, really - no, not so much. So, life seems ruttish, and this blog doesn't get updated.

That changed Saturday, and I should have probably documented the process leading up to it. So, applying some hindsight, and fabricating details from that hallucinatory sea of memory: Mishka, Arctic Hope's Brave Under The Bar, joined our pack on Saturday afternoon. Born as M-2, 10:04AM on April 6th, Mishka gets his call name from Misha K, and his affix name from what I aspire to be when I train.

The blog entries I make about this change will be a bit disjointed. I'm trying to just capture my impressions quickly, and am not worried about much else.

Leesa Thomas, the owner of Artic Hope kennels, has been - well, words can't describe everything that Leesa has come to mean in this family. Deciding to bring a new puppy into the pack was not taken lightly; Sharon and I talked extensively, bouncing it around for a couple months. I floated the idea out with various friends, some vastly more knowledgeable than me on pack behavior of Arctic dogs.

I found Leesa via the AMCA site, under registered breeders, sort of randomly picking her out because of that listing and her proximity to us. I spent some time on her website, and was impressed, but Leesa started shining during our extensive email correspondence. As it turned out, I had contacted her apparently randomly, but she had a litter planned - and I was a little late getting on the list, but decided that it was worth a shot.

I'm going to sound New Age now, but I do believe that the universe made this decision, not me: there were too many details that "clicked" into place which were beyond my control. I'm not comfortable divulging all of them publicly, simply because there are other people involved, but, as an example: Leesa agreed with me that we could only consider a male. Unfortunately, she wanted a male for herself from this litter, and other prospective owners wanted males. As it turned out, there were only two males in the litter, and through the universe fitting together, M-2 came home with us.

I'll have more to say about the process of selecting a breeder, but, for now, Leesa insisted on a home visit - and she came over one evening, and saw our setup, and met our pack. We talked for a couple hours, and thankfully the grrlz didn't try to pee on her or anything.

Sharon & I spent quite a few afternoons at the Arctic Hope kennels. This was invaluable for us in a number of respects: first, I've never seen a litter that young, and Leesa allowed us to interact & witness many things which I'll never forget, and which helped expand my knowledge of the breed tremendously. One huge dividend: since we handled the puppies, including M-2 from 3 weeks of age on, when Mishka finally joined us, we were a known entity. This has greatly helped the bonding process, and the integration process, as Mishka has some continuity in the face of all the change.

Saturday was just a getting settled and intro day. The only standout things: Shina took an immediate liking to Mishka, and vice versa, with Shina being able to call Mishka and him responding. Definitely see a maternal side to Shina I wasn't expecting. Manasha seems a little cold in comparison. Kira seems more interested in getting fed. Max doesn't care, at all.

Saturday night, I think Mishka howled all night. For better or worse, Shina joined in, both comforting and encouraging his lamentation.

Sunday things moved along. Mishka started to want to play more; Sharon took him out front for a few hours, so that he could hang out with her and no other dogs while she did some yard work. You could see his enjoyment with this. Later on, out back with the dogs, he started to show more playfullness, but was still fairly reticent. At one point, I stretched out on the porch floor, reading, and Mishka, Manasha, and Kira all laid with me, pressed up against me. We were all very tired and stressed.

Jumping to present day: Mishka is starting to come out of his shell. This morning he wanted to play with the mals, and did so for a bit - he even initiated the play, and had both the grrlz running around the deck with him. He also wants to play with the sibe, but she's a little too edgy, and that he becomes overhwhelmed. But I'm seeing huge progress in his behavior.

Snow Face

2011-01-18T20:21:00.000-05:00

Shina Say "Hi"

2010-12-31T17:32:00.006-05:00

Cooter Check

2010-12-31T17:26:00.001-05:00

Waiting

2010-10-30T10:49:00.004-04:00

"If we wait long enough, meat will come out of it."

This is nuts

2010-10-15T19:20:00.003-04:00

The Tub

2010-10-09T18:35:00.002-04:00

Tasty

2010-08-21T14:56:00.002-04:00

Well, yes, indeed. Tasty.

Heritage Lakes Homeowners Association

2010-05-31T18:08:00.002-04:00

From MotherJones.Com, the story a serviceman who lost his home over an $800 debt:

Michael Clauer is a captain in the Army Reserve who commanded over 100 soldiers in Iraq. But while he was fighting for his country, a different kind of battle was brewing on the home front. Last September, Michael returned to Frisco, Texas, to find that his homeowners' association had foreclosed on his $300,000 house—and sold it for $3,500. This story illustrates the type of legal quagmire that can get out of hand while soldiers are serving abroad and their families are dealing with the stress of their deployment. And fixing the mess isn't easy.

Michael went on active duty in February 2008 and was sent to Iraq. After he shipped out, his wife May slipped into a deep depression, according to court documents. "A lot of people say that the deployment is more stressful on the spouse than the actual person who's being deployed," Michael, 37, says in an interview with Mother Jones. May Clauer had two kids to take care of—a ten-year-old and a one-year-old with a serious seizure-related disorder. In addition, she was worried sick about her husband. Michael's company was doing convoy security in Iraq—an extremely dangerous job. "It was a pretty tough year for the whole company," he says. "We had IEDs, rocket attacks and mortar attacks, and a few soldiers that were hurt pretty bad and had to be airlifted back to the States."

Seeking to avoid hearing about the situation in Iraq, May stopped watching the news. She rarely answered the door, and Michael says he couldn't tell her when he went "outside the wire"—off-base. May also stopped opening the mail. "I guess she was scared that she would hear bad news," says Michael. That was why she missed multiple notices from the Heritage Lakes Homeowners Association informing her that the family owed $800 in dues—and then subsequent notices stating that the HOA was preparing to foreclose on the debt and seize the home.

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In Texas, homeowners' associations can foreclose on homes without a court order, no matter the size of the debt. In May 2008, the HOA sold the Clauers' home for a pittance—$3,500—although its appraisal value was $300,000, according to court documents. The buyer then resold the house to a third person. (Select Management Co., the company that manages Heritage Lakes, declined to comment for this story.)

It wasn't until June 2009 that May realized what had happened. Around that time, the new owner started demanding rent from the Clauers. She told Michael, who was still in Iraq. "At first I didn't believe it," he says. "I didn't understand how someone can take your house and not give you anything for it." When Texas Gov. Rick Perry visited Iraq in July, Michael says he told him about the problem. According to Michael, Perry called May and put lawyers in touch with the Clauers' attorney, but couldn't do much to alleviate the situation. (Perry's office didn't respond to calls seeking comment.) In August 2009, the new owner sent the couple an eviction notice, according to court records filed in the case. In Iraq, "the stress level was finally starting to come down," says Michael, and he was "starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel." He adds, "Then all of a sudden I get hit with this, and I'm trying to get out of there and get home and see what I can do to fight this."

At no point did anyone from the HOA—which is, after all, composed of the Clauers' neighbors—appear to have tried to visit May Clauer's house to talk to her about the problem. "The HOA board members...don't live very far from me at all," Michael Clauer says. There were "neighbors owing much more than us [who] were notified in person of pending foreclosures, but my wife only received a few letters." David Schechter of the Dallas/Fort Worth television station WFAA, which first reported this story, notes that the "Clauers' HOA says homeowners are free to call them, but they do not call or visit homeowners when there's a problem. They're only required to send a certified letter."

There are a bevy of laws that are supposed to protect servicemembers from losing their homes or jobs while they're on active duty, including the Servicemembers Civil Relief Act (SCRA). The homeowners' association's lawyer filed an affidavit wrongly claiming that neither of the Clauers was on active duty, says Barbara Hale, the couple's lawyer. Hale is seeking to have the court reverse the foreclosure and declare it "null and void," she says.

In the meantime, the Clauers have obtained an agreement allowing the family to stay in the home, Hale says. She's "confident that the courts will sort this out and do the right thing," but notes that the drawn-out legal process must be stressful for the Clauers.

The one good thing for the Clauers about Michael's deployment to Iraq was that it gave them a chance to get their finances in order. Michael got a bonus and expenses at home were lower. Now all of that money is gone, says Michael, who is currently working as a production supervisor at a roofing company. "It's ridiculous how much this is costing us," he says. "I'll be taking out a mortgage on my house that was free and clear just to try to get my house back."

Lauren Bean, a spokeswoman for Clauers' congressman, GOP Rep. Michael Burgess, says that Burgess is "aware of Capt. Clauer's issue," but says it is "office policy to not comment on constituent casework."

Even if he can't get his family's home back, Michael hopes that the public will pay attention to his story and push for changes to the laws that give Texas HOAs so much power. "We don't want to see this happen to other people," he says.

UPDATE: Several people have emailed asking how they can help. The Clauers have set up a legal defense fund to help pay for their court battle. You can send checks (made out to Clauer Legal Defense Fund) here:

Clauer Legal Defense Fund

c/o Plains Capital Bank

1629 Hebron Parkway West

Carrollton, TX 75010

Michael Clauer's wife's name is May, not Mae, as this story and other news reports originally stated. Clauer got back from Iraq in September, not October (his active duty period ended in October.) This story has been corrected to reflect those changes. The story has also been edited since it was originally posted.

Nick Baumann covers national politics for Mother Jones' DC Bureau. For more of his stories, click here. You can also follow him on twitter. Email tips and insights to scoop [at] motherjones [dot] com.

Heritage Lakes Contact Information

Heritage Lakes Clubhouse
3949 Village Blvd.,
Frisco, TX 75034
Ph. 972-668-2929
Fax 972-668-2931

Activities Director
E-mail: mailto:Clubhouse@heritagelakes-hoa.org

Guardhouse
3975 Lebanon Road,
Frisco, TX 75034
Ph. 972-668-6130
Fax 972-668-6131
Cell 214-448-6130

Heritage Lakes is professionally managed by:

Select Management Company
14801 Quorum Drive
Suite 250
Dallas, Texas 75254

Property Manager:
John Brian Vickers
(972) 755-1063
jvickers@selectmgco.com

Customer Support:
customerservice@selectmgco.com

For after hours emergencies relating to your community, dial 972-755-1063 and follow the prompts to speak to one of our representatives.

Big Trip to the vet

2010-04-23T19:54:00.002-04:00

Made the semi-annual (soon to be annual) trip to see Doc Mann . Nothing like putting two mals in the bed of the pickup, a sibe and a mutt in the extended cab, and going for a ride. I do enjoy putting a smile on the face of everybody who notices us - without fail, if we're noticed, we provoke huge grins. The other day at the trailhead, somebody pulled up and said we looked like a float in a parade.

I should note, and should have noted a while ago, that both Shina & Kira have dropped ~20lbs; I'm not quite sure how. They weighed in at ~102lbs each in Jan 2009, and ~80lbs in Feb 2010. Shina lost another 1.5 lbs since January, which amazes me: for at least 8 weeks of that time, I was feeding them all meals as Sharon was laid up, and I tend to overfeed.

In any event, both of the malamutes have matured into trim, agile, and athletic ladies. Possibly too athletic: a couple weeks ago, Kira jumped into the bed of the pickup truck - with the tailgate still up and closed. From a complete, dead stop, she jumped over the gate, at about 48", and into the bed.

The visit to the vet was to get blood drawn to test for heartworm. Since we were doing a draw, I asked that we run a test for zinc deficiency on Manasha, the sibe. Her coat, which used to be jet black, has clearly picked up shades of red - and this happened fairly suddenly and dramatically. Doc Mann expressed some skepticism, but drew the extra blood, and will send it out.

Stool samples indicate the the mals have picked up a hookworm; gave them a wormer.

We're waiting for the heartworm tests, but started them on the standard HeartGuard, as mosquito season is upon us.

Speaking of parasites, ticks are here. I've found 8 or 9 ticks on Shina in the past week. We did a FrontLine treatment last Saturday, so hopefully we're on top of that little crisis. Yet another drawback of the burgeoning deer population around here; in the past 3 years, ticks have just been out of control on the trails.

All in all, an exciting afternoon. Big ride in the truck. Seeing some old friends. Not a bad life for a dog.

Going For the Throat

2010-03-28T18:26:00.000-04:00

2010-03-28T13:27:00.001-04:00

I posted this a couple days ago; I've been looking at the series from whence it was selected, and realized something. This pic saddens me. In it, I clearly see Manasha has aged; there's an element of "old" in her face which I so hate to see.

Nice spring day

2010-03-21T17:03:00.003-04:00

2010-03-06T22:09:00.000-05:00

Memories

2010-03-05T08:48:00.002-05:00

This pic of Tasha was taken by Cem on one of his visits:

Priorities

2010-02-28T13:10:00.002-05:00

Attempted Action Shot

2010-02-27T20:03:00.003-05:00

Blurring aside, gives a great sense of perspective: Shina (standing) is really a big girl. Look at the forelegs by Manasha's head!

Water: A Differing Perspective

2010-02-11T21:20:00.003-05:00

Water

2010-02-07T18:18:00.001-05:00

Walkin's what we do

2010-02-02T12:57:00.001-05:00

Random Pic

2010-01-31T13:09:00.004-05:00

Full auto mode. It's worth clicking and seeing the big version; easy to see the autofocus struggled to get it right. OTOH, I never would have gotten this shot if I had to focus; I saw the moment beginning to unfold, and barely had time to frame the two miscreants.

Portait Work

2010-01-18T11:57:00.003-05:00

New Camera: A Few Test Pics

2010-01-01T09:25:00.007-05:00

Some early "testing & learning" pics from the new DSLR I got for my birthday. The first seven shots were taken seconds apart. Shina, with the purple collar, had just received a correction from Manasha (pictured in the final portrait shot), and was upset. She had yipped loudly, so I'm guessing that Manasha bit hard. Over the space of that few seconds, as she was "grumbling" the way Malamutes do, you could see the tension between her and her sibling Kira increase, and then diffuse.

Manasha

Quick Book Note: Rescue Ink

2009-10-15T06:54:00.003-04:00

I'm 2/3 done with Rescue Ink; a book about the group of the same name. It's a fun read: the stories of each individual character (and they are characters) are interwoven to paint a portrait of the group as a chaotic whole. As with all tales of rescue, at times I shake my head, wondering how people can treat animals the way they do.

One of the main thrusts of the book is raising awareness of pitbulls; there's many pictures of rescued pitbulls, many stories about them, and some good information about their background. I wish that the authors of the book - the Rescue Ink guys and Denise Flaim - spent a little more time getting into the travesties of breed specific legislation (BSL), and tried a little bit harder to raise awareness about what an awful thing this is.

For example, I wish they had included mention of this article on The Huffington Post (warning: contains graphic and disturbing photos) which is a gruesome reminder of why every animal lover should (a) oppose BSL (b) leave Denver to rot.

If you're a knowledgeable animal lover, you'll already know the general information presented in this book, but you'll probably enjoy the specific settings & characters. It would be a great gift for any family who is considering getting their first pet.

Truck Stop

2009-09-26T05:38:00.002-04:00

Well, not really a truck stop as we know it in the USA, but rather, my littermates' behavior when the truck is stopped back home.

So, it goes like this: getting into the truck is a mad dash from the garage, and if Kira gets in first, she blocks Shina from jumping in. The blocking is done just by standing on the tailgate and throwing down the "challenge" look; nothing vocal. If I stagger their release from the garage so Shina arrives first, she hops in, then Kira hops in. No problems.

Upon arrival at the trailhead, both girls hop out together, no issues, and after our hike, back in - usually Kira first, then Shina. But again, no issues, and Kira doesn't try to block Shina's jump.

The real fun has been happening getting out of the truck at home.

Shina has started grumbling at her sister, and sometimes Kira grumbles back, and then the grudge gets carried for a bit. Sometimes the grudge gets carried back into the kennel, and when crated, they start barking at each other (quite loudly).

I finally put it together, but I have no idea what is going on.

Shina has to get out of the truck first. Both she and Kira are in complete agreement on this. Kira now waits up near the front, standing in her usual "riding" position, until Shina is on the ground.

An additional twist is that I have to lift Shina down. She looks at me, and wants boosted. If I don't pick her up and set her down, she'll just stand there. And Kira stands in her spot, waiting.

If I force the issue, and bring Kira over to get down, the grumbling starts. If I force Shina to get down on her own, the grumbling starts.

If instead I just pick Shina up, put her down on the ground, Kira walks right over, jumps down, says "hi" to Shina, and everybody is happy.

Littermates. Aggression. Sometimes it displays in the strangest of ways.

So much for regular updates

2009-09-22T11:58:00.018-04:00

Good intentions, hell. Roads beckon.

It's been a good summer. Sharon completed her first sprint duathalon, taking 2nd in her age group.

I completed my second strongman competition, placing 2nd in the Masters HW division.

Sharon is getting ready for a half-marathon this coming weekend. I have my training scheduled out to a competition at the end of December.

We've spent a fair amount of time with the dogs. Bought a new truck, the girls love to ride around in it. I put the malamutes in the back, with a harnessing system, and we drive around town wooing and getting stares.

I've probably spent more time reading than I should have; seems like every weekend I end up reading another book or two, mostly pageturners and largely forgettable. I'm not sure that I see a lot of difference between getting lost in say the latest from James Patterson (a good read, by the way) and watching TV.

Notably, I re-read William Gibson's Pattern Recognition; for whatever reason, this seems to be a most accurate portrayal of living in contemporary society. I then read his latest work, which he has said occupies the same space: Spook Country.

Both rank high on my "highly recommended" list. If you want to understand a little bit more about how there is no real distinction between "IRL" and the "e-world", you owe it to yourself to read these, re-read them, and think them through. I don't necessarily agree with all the observations (example: I don't think the value / meaning of a blog is defined by it's context as provided by links to external resources in the blog) presented in the works, but greatly appreciate that they are being articulated.

I'm still doing the weekly chiropractic & Active Release Techniques to try to get my body moving better. Doc Zak is doing an excellent job at keeping a rapidly decaying body in check. Even if I never reach my goals in strongman competition, I've won a major battle already, with no small thanks to his diligent work.

Support your local business

2009-05-21T16:56:00.004-04:00

I'm doing one project on my time off - thankfully just one.

I decide to support my local lumberyard: Terry Lumber & Supply. Rather than go to the warehouse type store, I'll stay local.

So, I pay cash for a small order that they promise to deliver today, and charge me a surcharge for delivery. I'm fine with the surcharge.

I have everything planned out. Get the lumber today, I think I can finish redoing the floor, but just in case, I'll have a couple hours tomorrow.

They never show up. Never call.

I call in about 4:30, and get "We've got a problem. Well the address the guy wrote down is...." Which, conveniently, is where I live. So I ask "What's the problem with that? It's where I live, and have lived here for 7 years now."

"Oh, sorry. So...where is that?"

Now, they'll try to deliver it tomorrow morning. Even getting them to commit to a time was like pulling teeth. No offer to waive the delivery surcharge.

Lesson learned: fuck your local business before they fuck you.

Shop with the national chains. You're dealing with a known quantity.

Bachelor-dom

2009-05-19T21:49:00.003-04:00

So, Sharon has left me for a week at least. The plan is that she is vacationing with sisters out west, and that she's back in town this coming Saturday.

Meanwhile, I'm "holding down the fort." Which means taking care of the animals, the house, and stuff. I decided that, given a couple other factors, I would take the week and stay at home instead of attempting to add work into the equation. Those other factors include a desire to get some stuff done on the house (like repairing a section of flooring in the room we use as a kennel) and just never finding the time / energy to deal with it.

It seems that by the time the weekend hits, I'm close to exhausted. Then I drag myself through a long, heavy training session on Saturday. By the time I do that, and then clean up, most of the day is gone. And I'm so spent for the next couple days that getting anything done is out of the question.

Lather, rinse, repeat, and that's why somebody is going to fall through the floor someday.

So far this week I managed to purchase a new lawn mower, and actually get the grass cut. We have a very small yard, but the grass was up to my knees. It was time.

Today I didn't much done. I trained, and put more time into setup of training stuff than normal. Which was good.

I've been good about getting the dogs out for a nightly stroll; tonight we went over to the creek. It's been hot all day, and the mals appreciated a quick dip.

I'm reading Stanislaw Lem's Fiasco. I'm really enjoying it.

Oh my.

2009-05-06T19:19:00.005-04:00

The time flies.

So much to say, so little time, and even less energy.

A brief update about my girls: the entire pack is doing quite well. The mals are just these huge, goofy, balls of fur. We went into the vet a couple weeks ago to get blood draws and test for heartworm. Shina refused to let her front leg be stuck; the big mistake was the vet having his people hold her instead of me. Three of them held her, and she would just effortless remove her paw from their grasp, and then put it back down on the floor.

All dogs tested negative, and we started them on the seasonal heartguard.

We've taken a couple pounds off each dog; we have a couple more to go, especially on the sibe and Kira.

I'll try to get some pics soon, but they haven't changed all that much in the past 6 months.

*

I'm not much for watching TV, but Sharon bought me the complete DVD edition of The Wire some months back for my birthday. Simply brilliant television, and something everybody should make the time to watch, think about, and discuss.

I've been reading, as usual, quite a bit. I've lost track of what all I've read, but there are a couple outstanding reads.

The Bad Girl - Mario Vargas Llosa. Just an awesome read that is a story of unrequited love, passion, and a compelling history of the 60's.

Woof - various. A collection of essays on life, thought, and dogs. Remarkable.

Nine Lives: Death & Life in New Orleans - Dan Baum. New Orleans is one of my favorite towns; if you don't understand that, you never will. This is a stark, unpretentious look at the lives of 9 people who, each in their own way, shaped New Orleans.

Speed Queen - Stewart O'Nan. This is the first book I read by the author, and cemented my love for his prose. I decided to re-read this contemporary classic, and was not disappointed in the slightest.

There have been a lot of other books that have passed under my nose; nothing else strikes me as memorable at this moment.

*

The Littermates

2009-03-15T09:09:00.002-04:00

Our littermates are doing well; at 18 months old, we haven't had any serious aggression in close to 10 months. They eat side by side, for the most part they share playthings; when they come out of their crates, the first thing they do is say hello to each other.

So, what changed? Well, first of all Sharon & I got a whole lot better at recognizing aggression, and differentiating it from other communicative behavior. For example, when we're out walking, and see game, oftentimes the sisters will get extremely excited, then frustrated, and then - this is the best I can put it - sort of "scrap" with each other.

But it's a mock scrap - neither is really serious at the onset, they're not really upset with each other.

What happens next is largely up to me, since I have the other end of the leads. If I basically ignore the behavior, or jokingly say "Oh, I love you sister," the situation defuses before it escalates. If, however, I tense up, preparing for a battle, well...the situation escalates.

There's clearly times when they are pissed at each other. Typically, it's resource guarding issues. I think it goes back to the tit, but then again, I think everything goes back to the tit.

These are the times when we have to act to stop the posturing. Typically, one of them will be standing a certain way; looking a certain way; holding their body in such a way that says "I'm in charge of things."

The best approach we've found is to get both in a "down" position, focused on us.

Of special note: the girls play together outside, unsupervised, nearly all day. There are no incidents during this playtime.

Part of this is because we're not there. We are, as pack leaders, the most valuable resource. Remove the resource, and you remove the resource guarding issue.

Another part is simply that they're falling into a natural hierarchy. Kira is clearly dominant in the social structure, and for the most part, Shina is willing to go along with this, being much more laid back.

Yet another part is that we have the sibe, Manasha, who is alpha-on-steroids, and rules the puppies with no mercy.

Ranting

2009-03-14T11:16:00.004-04:00

I feel like I've been neglecting this blog, probably because I've been neglecting this blog.

So, a rant. A rant about me, with I hope, broader social implications.

As I've written, probably too much, the past 3 years of my life have largely been defined by my struggle to come to terms and live with DISH. It's difficult to know what that means, since nobody knows the cause of DISH, there is no cure, and I'm beginnging to realize - nobody knows how the disease really impacts the patient or how it progresses.

After researching the disease, I came to the conclusion that the best things I could do would be to get my entire body "realigned" and then use my entire body in strenuous activity on a regular basis.

Doctor Zak has worked with me for the past 3 years, using various treatment modalities including chiropractic, ART, SASTM, and more. Obviously, we've been somewhat successful in this approach: going from nearly no flexibility to being able to compete as a strongman is no mean feat.

Here's the rub: this is not the American Medical Association's recognized course of treatment for the disease. Their recommendations are: light activity, progressively higher doses of anti-inflammatories, more painkillers, and surgery as necessary to resolve any secondary symptoms which might arise from the disease: incontinence, dysphagia, etc.

Great. Basically, drug the patient up, let the disease take it's course, and try to cut when things get out of hand.

However, the AMA largely rules when it comes to matters of insurance.

So, I could take this route, be fully covered by my health insurance, and watch my health detiorate over the years, hoping that the disease didn't spread so rapidly as to cause any secondary symptoms when I was still young enough to regret such things.

(At what age do you stop regretting pissing yourself? Or not being able to swallow your food? I wonder at what age self-dignity expires?)

Or, I could actively fight the disease, push my body harder and harder, enjoy the years I have as best I can.

And pay for all the treatment out of pocket.

While pursuing the only sane option, I've reflected upon a couple things: one of the most debilitating degenerative diseases is osteoarthritis. OA will affect many people as they age.

In a traditional description of OA, it sounds inevitable: there's a limited supply of synovial fluid n each joint: it's the lubrication that keeps the joint moving freely. As the cartilage in each joint decays, it enters the synovial fluid, and that causes the fluid to decay and become less efficacious; which causes further cartilage wear, which causes further fluid...and well, it sounds degenerative, and inescapable.

Now, I wonder about that.

What starts this cycle of cartilage wear? Could it be something as simple as muscular imbalances, left untreated? Consider a classic example from sports: the rotator cuff and shoulder pain.

The upper arm has a "ball" which is seated, quite loosely, into the shoulder's "socket". This ball-and-socket allows for tremendous range of motion. But ask yourself: what keeps the ball centered in the socket? If the ball drifts towards one edge, what happens?

It's soft tissue (muscles, tendons, ligaments) which keep the ball centered in the socket. This requires that opposing muscles be balanced: if one is overly strong or tight, the ball will be pulled towards the edge of the socket, and accelerated decay will occur.

All the body's joints function the same way. They fit together, with certain clearances, are cushioned by synovial fluid, and held in place by soft tissue.

Could soft tissue imbalances be the cause of OA? Could a lifestyle which discourages the balanced use of the entire body be to blame? Could OA be preventively managed by embarking on a course of insuring that muscular balance is maintained?

Another interesting thing I discovered in my research. There's a drug, pentosan sodium sulfate, which has been around for many decades, and is labelled for primary use in the treatment of bladder cysts.

A study, "Effects of pentosan polysulfate in osteoarthritis of the knee : A randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled pilot study",was conducted and concluded:

Conclusions: In this pilot study, 4 weekly injections of NaPPS were associated with significantly improved duration of joint stiffness and pain at rest compared with controls for 20 weeks after the cessation of treatment, and significantly improved pain on walking and overall function for 8 weeks after the cessation of treatment in these patients with OA of the knee.

What? We don't need anti-inflammatories to treat OA? By the way, this is just one study. Spend some time Googling "pentosan", and you'll discover other studies which show that this drug can actually reverse OA.

Why isn't this being further researched? Where's the publicity?

Well, remember: any drug that has been around for decades is no longer covered by patents, and any drug manufacturer can make it and bring it to market. In other words, they won't be able to charge a premium. In other words: there's no incentive for research into the efficacy of old drugs to treat problems.

Does all this strike you as somehow wrong? Do you get the feeling that the AMA, the US governement, and the health care industry don't really care about your health?

15 Years: Who's Counting?

2009-02-22T18:09:00.002-05:00

Yesterday marks my 15th wedding anniversary.

It hasn't always been easy for me, and lots of credit goes to Sharon for putting up with my raving lunacy, my demands, my nitpicking, and my ultra Type A personality: hopefully, I'm mellowing out a little bit over the years, and learning how to be more human and less machine.

Another Weekend Down

2009-02-15T20:31:00.009-05:00

The only drama was the vicarious kind: we watched "Taken" and "The Wrestler"; if I had to pick only to view, it would be the latter. Both enjoyable, but "Taken" coasts on an emotionally appealing storyline and special effects.

With no real drama & bedtime rapidly approaching, here's a couple shots of the crew.

Ready to go

The Scene of the Crime

Getting Biscuits

A quick note on a quick read

2009-02-08T17:13:00.002-05:00

Just finished reading "The Associate" by John Grisham.

The typical myopic, suspenseful, and lawyer-hating page turner we've all come to expect and enjoy. Reading it was sort of like spending the weekend in a suite at the Ritz with a handful of strippers and a couple ounces of blow. Everything tastes so good that you can't stop, you never want to stop, but when the book closes, you're just not satisfied, and you realize that it's time to be in a relationship with some meaning.

Pigging Out

2009-01-25T19:10:00.011-05:00

Manasha, The Prodigal Sibe

Sister Kira

Sister Shina

Today was largely about eating good food and relaxing in the cold. Pig's Feet were the choice for a mid-afternoon snack, followed up by a dinner of chicken backs and wings.

The girls all did well on their hike this evening; we were all a bit excited at the beginning, and there was a lot of sniffing, stopping. starting, and general chaos, but within 400 hundred yards or so we settled into our rhythm. Hiked for about 40 minutes, our typical 2.something miles around a meadow by the river.

Went slightly out of our way so that I could show Sharon where I rescued Manasha on Thursday.

I'll try to get some pics of that area soon enough.

Book Review: The Soul Thief

2009-01-25T09:56:00.006-05:00

The Soul Thief by Charles Baxter left me with a number of questions, none of them necessarily good. I wonder: when I was a senior undergrad, or perhaps in my first year of grad school, would I have liked this book? In those days, I'm sure I was filled with my share of intellectual pretension, and I shudder to think that such pretense might have blinded my eyes and made me believe that this novel is worthwhile.

I hope not. I hope that, even then, I had enough sense to smell bullshit when it was spread so thickly over the page. Every scene, each attempt at character development, is oddly distanced, as though being watched from afar. As though the author has no real insight or understanding into what he writes.

The most glaring example of this is when one of the main characters (a lesbian, whom is having hetero sex with the male protagonist) is apparently assaulted and gang-raped. Oddly, although there's a scene or two in which the protagonist spends a great deal of time with her during recovery, there's no sense of any emotional impact; both characters remain strangely flat, one-dimensional, during what should be a defining sequence.

There also seems to be confusion over basic anatomy.

The protagonist, some hour or more after lovemaking, points out that his penis is still "thick" from making love. My penis, as a rule, gets thick during the act, achieves it's climax, and then quickly loses it's thickness. Then again, I've never bedded a lesbian; maybe there's something magical about a lesbian's vagina that permanently(?) thickens the penis? It's my understanding - barring lesbian magik - that my penis functions as a penis normally functions.

I could relate if our protagonist was penis-pondering along the lines of "my penis was still sticky after lovemaking"; or even "My penis was still damp after..." or "I could smell her on my penis". But "thick"?

In the final affront to the reader, a barely believable deux ex machina is employed in an attempt to explain this sensation of distance, of one-dimensionality, of a strangely blind omniscient observer.

The good news is that there's enough intellectual pretension and witticism to remind me why I ultimately found the grad school experience so execrable and left, and that I read this book in about 5 hours. So I didn't waste too much time.

The other good news is that underneath this book on my coffee table was "The Bad Girl", by Mario Vargos Llosa, which I'm now reading - and oh my, how the characters jump off the page and come to life in the mind's eye!

Found - Updated!

2009-01-22T17:10:00.007-05:00

Found the sibe tonight, close to where she broke free.

Badly tangled in a thicket of brambles, no more than 30' off the main path. We walked right past that location multiple times yesterday, and nothing. Today, she answered my call, and it took me 5 minutes to cover that 30' and get to her.

She's fine. High spirits, ready to go again.

I'm in much better spirits, but ready to pass out.

Update

I hurt all over. Tried to train tonight, but just couldn't do anything - couldn't even move warm-up weights.

I suspect that there was some adrenalin involved in the last couple days, and that suddenly cleared my system.

The sibe, too, is very tired. She has no interest in moving from her spot on the bed, content to soak up the calories from a bellyful of food and recover for her next big adventure.

I also have to thank my friends for their support during this. Honestly, I'm not sure that I would have gone out looking again today, I was so sore and tired, but Bill called me and gave me some motivation, and so did Jen. Jen is good friends with Manasha, and it was great that she could be there for the "rescue".

Still Lost & Confused

2009-01-21T15:05:00.005-05:00

No sign of the sibe, Manasha.

I printed up flyers using the above pic, it's fairly recent and good likeness.

We've contacted the park rangers, the poh-lice, and we're spreading word through the vet community.

I have a very, very bad feeling about this.

Crushed beyond words - Updated

2009-01-20T22:28:00.005-05:00

What started out as a great night turned ruinous in a matter of seconds.

We were out for our nightly hike, deep snow, cold, and stumbled across a herd of deer bedded down for the night. In the resulting melee, the siberian went into prey mode, tore her lead out of my hand, and went after the deer.

It was impossible to track her. We couldn't even accurately tell what were her tracks vs deer tracks; shit, we couldn't even tell when we had left terra firma and were walking across swampland until the ice started cracking.

At that point, we gave up. Too dark, too cold, too much danger in the backwoods.

Friends are coming by tomorrow at 7:30AM and we'll begin the search anew.

In the meantime, I've logged it with the rangers.

Update

No good news. Got started at first light, it was -3F, and we covered a reasonable chunk of terrain. Saw many of her paw prints, unable to follow them after a while. Had to get back to the house and rest and warm up a bit.

Damn.

Justification

2009-01-19T16:37:00.003-05:00

I actually talked to a couple of my coworkers today.

Aside from discussing a problem with the installation of software via group policies to Windows desktops, and how Microsoft is absolutely screwing the pooch with security in their SQL Reporting Server, we talked about snow.

One of these guys was 10 years younger than me; the other was 20 years younger. They were complaining about how their backs were hurting, about how hard it was to shovel snow. They asked me what I did, knowing that I have a long driveway.

I said that I shovelled it by hand. Immediately the questions and second-guessing start: "Why don't you buy a snow blower? Why don't you pay somebody to do it? Your back must be killing you!"

There is a perverse pleasure in knowing that doctors told me I'd never lift weights again, that I have a degenerative spinal disease, and that my activity level, strength, work capacity, and endurance put guys half my age to shame.

Monday

2009-01-19T12:53:00.000-05:00

Monday morning, back to work.

The weekend started with a free-fall down a flight of stairs, and then posing as an eccentric in the line at the bank. Apparently, my freefall ended up stuffing my left jacket pocket full of snow, a fact I was not aware of until I placed my hand in my pocket some 20 minutes later standing in line at the bank. Not about to give up my place in line, I acted like it was perfectly normal to have a pocketful of snow, and as far as the melting and the dripping, well...what would you expect a pocketful of snow to do when indoors?

Saturday was largely spent sleeping, with an abbreviated training session, and some reading. In between, and late Saturday night, pipe-thawing was the big sensation - all the kids do it, I hear.

Sunday was snow shoveling, and getting a friend's car unstuck from a private road which scared away even the tow truck, then a short hike with the puppies.

I'm sore, tired, and pushing so hard in training that even my sleep is just tweaked beyond any semblance of normal.

The cold - Updated!

2009-01-17T13:19:00.005-05:00

So, the cold has descended up us like Satan's blanket, wrapping itself tightly around every nook-n-crannie, making sure that no warm air can get in and accidentally give us hope.

(For those who find that comment odd, associating Satan with fire: please, do us all a favor and either stop pretending to be culturally aware, or pull your head out of your ass and actually read Dante. For once in your miserable little existence, try to understand the culture in which you've been steeped; otherwise, you're little more than a teabag.)

The drain for the downstairs shower is frozen.

I'm feeling completely & utterly beaten-up; sore all over. Part of this is from training (and in e-talking with my coach, this has been a medium-stress level week...), part from falling down the flight of stairs yesterday from the deck into the side yard.

Slept a lot. Was in bed by 10:30PM last night, up at 7A to let the dogs out and have some food, then back to bed until 12PM. I'm still tired, and debating the wisdom of more sleep.

I might drag myself out to the garage to attempt the day's training.

I might not.

I'm not in a great place mentally; fuck that, I'm in a pretty shitty place mentally. As always, I feel ashamed and guilty that I can offer no reasonable explanation for this - and that there is no reasonable explanation simply pushes me further into this bad place. It seems as though the more I accomplish, the more I do, the worse my self-image becomes.

Hopefully this breaks soon, giving me some much needed respite.

Update.

Forced myself to train.

Finished Songs For The Missing. O'Nan explores another range of the human experience here, and a whole new set of emotions; I cried 3 times while reading this book, just overwhelmed by the imagery objectively paraded in front of me. This is not a "tear-jerker"; don't make that mistake in labelling - at first, that's what I thought. But, no, O'Nan portrays the events in question quite dispassionately yet accurately; he doesn't resort to cheap tricks to pander to our emotions, but lets the subject matter itself reach down into our psyche.

So, what's it about?

It's set in Ohio, close by - in a small town on Lake Erie's shoreline, and it's a senior's last summer before college starts, in fact, the final weeks of the final summer. The senior, Kim, goes about her daily routine as always, except she disappears one day, never to return. The story is her family's and friends' - how they cope with the unknown (is she dead? did she run away?), and attempt to carry on living.

Without giving away anything, let me just say that there is no avoiding the hallmark of O'Nan's work: death, and finding peace therein.

Reading

2009-01-15T06:42:00.004-05:00

I'm enjoying a book from a genre that I've not really explored: George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones. This was given to me by a dear friend as a Christmas present; I can't think of a better gift than to share one of your favorite authors. I'm probably 1/3 of the way into this book, and it's sweeping family history reminds me of Frank Herbert's Dune.

Sharon picked up the new(er) Stuart O'Nan novel: Songs for the Missing. I like O'Nan's writing in general, and I like his treatment of the subject of missing family members in today's society. O'Nan does a good job at finding a very real fringe aspect of society, which resonates deeply with the reader, and exploring that from a variety of perspectives. It's something he did outstandingly well in "A Prayer for the Dying", one of my most memorable reads from last year; Jacob will be etched in my mind forever.

Good, Bad, Indifferent

2009-01-04T10:39:00.011-05:00

With a final flush of the toilet, I say goodbye to the gut-bug which defined much of my last week of 2008, and with hope springing eternal, welcome a new year and a less chapped ass.

The Good, The Bad, The Indifferent

This blog
Well, at least I started writing again. As noted before, intentions are cheap, and this has largely become a record of my training. I should change that. Perhaps with this post I'm finding that road.

Training
Good progress here. Completing a strongman competition, getting stronger, and improving my overall level of conditioning have all been checkmarks in the "plus" column.

Self-Image
There's still not much about myself in which I take pleasure. I've tried, but I can't get my parents' programming out of my head: that I'm fat, unattractive, and undesireable seem to be unalterable truths as deeply ingrained in me as my love-hate relationship with my penis. As much as I try to ignore this negativity, and carry on, the repercussions run deep, and I have to wonder how much of everything else is shaped by this.

My Girls
The Malamutes, specifically, but all the dogs and cats in general. If you're not a dog person, you'll never get it. If you are a dog person, there's nothing I can write which you don't already know.

Career
A large tractor-trailer, carrying a heavy load, struggles up the hill which was not clearly marked on the route; the hill seemingly goes on forever. Fuel tanks are dangerously low; no respite is in sight.

Reading
I've done well in this respect, I like to think. While my efforts at learning and thinking from said reading might have fallen short, I've read a lot over the past year. If there's a big weakness in my reading, it's that I read very little non-fiction. Largely because I'm not sure that I understand the fiction/non dichotomy, and find it amusing that any book about (say) the Civil War is counted as non-fiction.

Friendship Development
To be clear: my comments apply only to me and my efforts to overcome my hermitlike status, which is layered in trust issues, wrapped in a poor self-image, and served with healthy side of general misanthropy. Some progress was made; many challenges remain.

Wednesday, October 15

2008-10-16T18:54:00.002-04:00

No, really. Just out of order.

I was sore all over from Tuesday's session.

Was a scheduled active recovery day. Instead of doing the normal thing, I went to pick up some weights. Found through craigslist, 900lbs of plates. By the time I carried them out of the guy's basement, and then loaded them into my garage, I was done with moving.

So I now have about 2400lbs of plates. 24 45lb plates; this gives me enough that I can load up a couple exercises on big days and save some time. I can also take some out of rotation and work on repainting before the rust gets totally out of control. 10 10lb plates; enough that I can load up the fat dumbells nicely - incidentally, I got my fat dumbells from John Beatty. I highly recommend his stuff.

Airports

2008-10-12T11:19:00.000-04:00

Sharon completed her first marathon yesterday

Taking longer than expected, she was pretty emotional at the finish. We got her fed, back to the hotel, & in an ice bath. Gave her some nsaids and we rested for a couple hours prior to dinner.

She seems to be in decent shape today. We walked around for a bit, checking out and old graveyard and talking about the run. The good news is that she is not injured & is looking forward to doing her next marathon. So she hit her goal.

Entered via my iPhone while sitting at the airport.

Sunday: Sore All Over

2008-10-05T16:00:00.003-04:00

For quick & easy training session, I'm left feeling mighty wiped out. I think this is an excellent lesson for me in what goes into recovery, and it also points out how luck I am.

Yesterday Sharon and I decided to drive over to Trenton, MI and meet a couple of guys from the Power & Bulk - this is one of Shaf's projects, and is an awesome source of information and inspiration for training heavy and intelligently. I had an awesome time: it was great to meet Steve in person after a couple years of e-knowing (or whatever the proper term might be) him.

The games were fun. It was a hybrid strongman/Highland Games, with the strongman stuff generally being light and dynamic, and the Highland events being, well, Highland events. The whole thing last 6 hours.

So, yesterday looked like: up at 6AM for dog patrol; eat a very light breakfast, basically a protein bar, get caught up on a couple chores, and I was training by 7:30A. Finished training, cleaned up, restocked cash, and then grabbed a quick larger breakfast. Drive 2-1/2 hours to the games; stand / sit on bleachers for 6 hours, and then finally at 8PM get some dinner, then drive home, getting back to the compound at 11:40PM.

I'm quite sure that this - very out of the norm for me - is what left me feeling this sore, tight, and tired. The training itself wasn't enough to do it.

Fortunate / lucky: yes, I am. I realized that yesterday, and more fully today. I was talking with a couple of the athletes at the games about balancing training and life; I realized that I'm extremely fortunate to have such a simple life so that I don't have nearly the level of juggling to do that most face. If, as an example, I had to run around like I did yesterday every weekend, I would be unable to recover from my training - I'd have to scale it back, if I could even find time to fit it in.

I'm happy to have gained this perspective.

*
Slept in quite late, and then spent some time cleaning up the dogs' room, and the gym. I have a couple other projects I'd like to tackle yet today, and want to get out for a hike and loosen up at least a little bit.

Fat & Crippled: Positively

2008-10-03T08:58:00.002-04:00

Had a great conversation with my wife last night, regarding my "fat & crippled" appellation; this conversation was prompted by comments from a friend.

My friend told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should stop referring to myself as fat & crippled. According to this friend, by calling myself this, I was being negative, and words mean things, and these particular negative words were reverberating throughout my life. I think most people would agree with this - at least most people who have never lived with a physical disadvantage.

How sad.

Simply by stating a couple truths (I am fat, and I am crippled), I'm supposed to harbor negative thoughts about myself. Why can't I be fat, and crippled, and accept those things about myself, without making a value judgment? Why must I think that fat is negative, and crippled is negative?

The answer is, of course, that I am not compelled to think this, and in fact, I don't think this.

How sad that we, as a collective society, have developed to the point where it's automatically assumed that any physical aberration is a negative. Fat is negative. Crippled is negative. What's next, short is negative? Any man under 5'8" tall must think of himself in the negative?

I'm crippled. Why should I consider that a negative, thereby mandating that I view myself negatively?
*
I remember enjoying a holiday dinner with friends, sometime around 1999. We were at a nice restaraunt, having a great time, and John, Char, Sharon and I were laughing it up and talking about "business" ideas. We came up with "Rent-a-Crip" as a seasonal business.

The idea is brilliantly simple: amusement parks like Cedar Point have long waits for rides, sometimes hours long. Unless you are with a cripple. Got a cripple? Go the head of the line.

We figured that a family, or a couple dating, would be willing to pay $200 cash to have a cripple with them for Cedar Point. After all, in a 10 hour day at the park, you might spend 5 hours in lines, just waiting. Not with a cripple.

Before you condemn me as heartless, you should realize that Char and John are quadriplegics, and refer to themselves as "crips", we all laughed and thought "Rent-a-Crip" was hilarious.

Both Char and John are quite physically active, enjoying skydiving & skiing, and also pursue goals: John is an active racer; he competes in a number of marathons every year. Char is a member of a dance troupe, and trains hard and performs onstage.

I'm quite sure they don't view themselves negatively. They refuse to let the fact that they are crippled stop them from living a full life.
*
I think by now it's pretty clear that I don't let the fact I'm fat & crippled get in my way: I set goals, hold myself accountable, and kick major motherfucking ass to reach those goals. Another fact: I set and reach my goals better than the vast majority of people who aren't fat or crippled, and who are half my age.

Every time I reach one of my goals, or have a good lift, I say "Not bad for a fat cripple." What I really mean when I say that is something like "All you cocky motherfuckers who brag about how good you are, who (apparently in the name of maintaining a positive self-image) stroke their own egos more than they stroke their own cocks - all of you: yeah, fuck you. You can't do what I - a fat cripple - just did. "

Random Noise Generation

2008-09-22T18:36:00.000-04:00

Somewhere over the past couple days, I've been doing my typical soul-searching and thinking. No big startling revelations, no messages from god - damn, wouldn't that make it so much easier? - and I feel that in many respects I'm treading water. I think somehow, in some way, in some facet of my life, I have to up the ante: whatever it is that I've accomplished in the past couple years simply does not add up to satisfaction for me.

I'm not sure what to do about this, but I have to do something.

A sincere thank you

2008-09-19T10:24:00.003-04:00

To whoever turned my power back on last night: thank you. It was nice to shower after training. Really. My co-workers appreciate it. My doctor will appreciate it in a couple hours.

Hell, we were at the point where even my dogs appreciated it.

Bad Effects of Obesity

2008-08-24T07:03:00.008-04:00

A recent story on MSNBC prompted me to think about one of the social pariahs of the day: obesity.

The basic story reported is that Alabama state workers will have to pay extra for health insurance if their BMI exceeds a certain threshold for a certain period of time. This is, I'm guessing, largely acceptable because, well, those people are fat. Clearly, they're less desirable people because of this. If (more about this if later) their health care costs are higher, then they should have to pay for that.

Tit-for-tat: pregnant women's health care costs are higher. By the same logic, we should "fine" them. Instead, we give them extra days off, we give them extra benefits. Why? Because they can fuck?

Silly me. That's not the way it works.

It strikes me as rather difficult to state that obesity causes any disease. The problem is that, as any overweight person knows, there's a whole complex of social behavior that goes along with being overweight. According to a recent study, the social stigma attached to childhood obesity "is pervasive and can have serious consequences for emotional and physical health. "

How many of the negative consequences we associate with obesity are not caused by obesity itself, but by this social stigma and the resultant emotional / psychological fallout? Lyle McDonald has a quick piece which discusses the impossibility of separating physiology from psychology. A quick quote from that piece illustrates my point:

Modern science, for example the field of psychoneuroimmunology, recognizes that the brain and body are in a constant state of interaction and involvement with one another. This is sort of the basis for the idea that you can think yourself sick, or for the idea that people with a more positive attitude are more likely to survive certain diseases (such as cancer). Your thought processes can impact on such workings of your body as immune function.

My question: if you take a child, subject him to enough social and psychological cruelty, will that child develop life-threatening diseases? Forget about suicide ideation; I'm thinking cancer, heart disease, "metabolic syndrome".

Is society really the cause of the obese person's health problems?

Certainly, it's impossible to say that society as a whole does not share in creating these health issues. Why then is it acceptable for society to shun responsibility for caring for the obese individual who experiences health problems? Apparently in Alabame, it's not only acceptable, but politically mandated.

I woke up

2008-07-31T06:14:00.003-04:00

Sometime in the "wee hours" last night, I woke up with shooting pains in my left arm, and my left hand was numb. At first, I thought nothing of it, other than I must have fallen asleep in a weird position. No matter what position I shifted to, the numbness in my hand continued, and the shooting pains became worse.

I then remembered that this is a prime sign of a cardiovascular incident; perhaps, a fatal heart attack. I thought about how difficult yesterday afternoon's training had been. I thought that perhaps, finally, I had pushed things too far. I drifted back into sleep, holding my pillow.

I woke up this morning.

Fuck.

Coming to terms

2008-05-23T20:01:00.000-04:00

I see that, against my intentions (the road best paved and all), that this blog has become little more than a place to log my training. I've wondered if maybe there's an idea percolating somewhere in the depths of my being, and I've been patiently waiting for it to surface.

I think I might have to come to terms with bitter reality: the reality that I have nothing; nothing of which to write, nothing I can in any honesty deem worthy of talking about, writing about, or in any way, shape or form communicating.

I had hopes (and they might still be alive) of learning to write again. Perhaps that part of me truly did die all those years ago.

Gone to the dogs

2008-04-27T19:22:00.001-04:00

Pretty wiped out today, as I anticipated.

Had to finalize a configuration for a client's Cisco ASA 5510, I'm going to pop it into place to replace an aging Cisco VPN Concentrator. Spent some time on that today. Had to get a vBulletin upgrade done for another client.

Took breaks from the bullshit to spend time with the dogs and my wife. We worked on trimming nails and grooming. The grooming went fine until it was time to hit bellies; we had started with Kira, and she got a little bitchy about that. Of course, we then had to move onto nail trims, and since I already had her cradled in my arms on her back, we went for it.

Oh, my. She didn't like that at all. I think this is largely my fault: I probably haven't worked on this position with enough regularity in the past couple months. It's my typical "submission" position which I require all our dogs to accept and learn to love, this is Shina as a much smaller puppy loving the hold:

Well, now that they're 8 months old and 75lbs, when they don't want to be held, it gets interesting...to say the least. Kira did a lot of growling and struggling, and sounded pretty darned impressive for a wubbie-woo. Impressive enough that Sharon was all for stopping, she was afraid that I was going to get bitten.

My feeling is that to stop early transmits a clear signal that we are no longer in charge. So I insisted we push through, and got a little workout holding.

Shina was up next, and we cut to the chase: I held her, and we started brushing her belly. Sure enough, after about 10 seconds she was growling and struggling. We finished the belly groom and moved to nails. Shina actually got to the point where she stopped growling and started to scream, her most heart-rending, pitiful screams of pure frustration that the world wasn't what she wanted it to be. I just kept reminding her that she was in my arms, and that the world was fine the way it was.

A couple variables: I haven't held them in this submissive pose in isolation prior to today. All other times have been with all other members of the pack present. That changes the dynamic entirely, and makes it a completely new experience. Likewise, this hold was practiced predominantly in the kennel-room; today we were on the back deck. A small variable, but combined with everything else, perhaps not insignificant.

I'll definitely work on this hold more diligently.

Later in the day we made it out for a nice hike, of about 45 minutes duration, which included quite a few steep climbs and descents. Post-hike Sharon and I stretched out and did some bodyweight work, it felt pretty darned good to move about and get the muscles working through the stiffness and DOMs.

Littermate Aggression: The OnGoing Saga

2008-04-03T06:54:00.000-04:00

Ask anybody with experience in living with malamutes, and they'll tell you that there's a couple things you probably want to avoid: adopting littermates, and adopting same-sex mals. Which means that our first experience with malamutes was destined to be rescuing a pair of female littermates.

Fate can be a real kick in the crotch at times. Fate, being the bitch she is, didn't really care about the challenges we would face. Fate placed these two at our doorstep, and we only had one choice: to rescue them.

We've learned, firsthand, about littermate aggression. About same sex aggression. About redirected aggression. Cutting to thc chase, we've experienced so many forms of aggression between the two sisters that when we ask ourselves what the girls are thinking, our projection inevitably ends with "...and I wanna rip out my sister's throat and watch her die."

Luckily, we've never had any aggression directed towards us. The other big risk in taking on littermates, of any breed, is bonding: the littermates will often bond to each other so tightly that they leave no room for humans in their social identity. A couple factors helped us out here: first, our Sibe.

Manasha is a 5 year old Sibe, and is extremely high-strung and dominant. We rescued her when she was about 10 months old, and we had our hands full in getting her calmed down; the family who she lived with previously clearly didn't understand Sibes, and she ended up attacking their two children, and was essentially out of control. It took many months, but she is now a perfect sweetheart, submissive and trusting to Sharon, Jen, and I, her pack leaders.

My plan was to adopt a pair of puppies and encourage Manasha to take a leadership role in their integration into the pack. I thought this would be a "win-win" situation; the puppies would get a lot of attention and nurturing, and would mimic Manasha's behavior; and Manasha would have "puppies" to take some of her energy.

This strategy worked out well. The puppies have followed Manasha's lead in just about everything, including their complete acceptance of Sharon, Jen, and I as pack leaders.

Score one for old age and treachery.

So, the only aggression issues we're left to sort are those the mals direct towards each other. There's two strategies I've employed here: identify triggers, then control the environment and / or condition their behavior through repeated exposure to the triggers along with appropriate and gentle correction.

In the long run, this has worked fairly well. As long as the girls are at home, we really have minimized any aggression, and we're good at seeing initial signs and defusing the situation. However, last night was a classic example of the problem.

I've noticed that when we go on our walks, if Shina gets frustrated (say if a deer runs across the path), she'll bitch at her sister. It's as though she's saying "It's all your fault I can't go chase that deer." As well, should Kira find something interesting to sniff / explore, Shina is compelled to bulldoze her way in, shoulder Kira out of the way, and see what the item of interest might be.

This behavior reached a peak when we encountered the geese last night. Both mals were extremely excited, and their prey drive was kicking in. Shina started bitching at Kira; just getting in her face and screaming. Kira put up with that for the first couple times, then retaliated. Soon, they were in full bore "kill sister" mode, up on their hind legs, tearing at each other.

Really not much I could do except to think how much Kira looked like a really pissed off Chewbacca, and hope that they figured things out before I found my balls and intervened. Which they did, with remarkably little bloodshed. However, it was clear that they carried a bit of a grudge; later on, as we were brushing their teeth, they started bitching at each other.

So, my plan: Sharon and I will split them up on walks, I'll take Shina, and as she displays that initial aggression towards Kira (whether bitching at her about a frustration, or shouldering her to see what she found), I'll correct that behavior and keep her at heel.

I'll post an update someday about how this works out.

Sebastian, Part 1

2008-03-26T07:39:00.000-04:00

Sebastian was the first husky who "owned" me. We rescued him in 1997; he was approximately 5 years old at the time. He was with us until 2004, when he finally succumbed to kidney failure with which we had struggled for a couple years. There's not many days that go by, even now, when I don't think of him; every time I'm "psyching" up for a big lift, I remember his sheer determination and picture him in my imagination / memory.

We knew little about huskies. I had some exposure to them when I was much younger, and knew that they could be headstrong, and that huskies and wanderlust go together like peanut butter and jelly. That sums up our knowledge of the breed at that time; needless to say, buy most standards, I probably did everything wrong that you could think of in integrating "B" into our lives.

He had a mixed past; he was found neglected and chained in a mud pit with no water by an animal warden, and removed from the owner. The local husky rescue organization was contacted, and they fostered him. They placed him with one family; he was too headstrong for them, and they returned him to rescue within a couple weeks.

The foster home's owner took a special liking to him; he was really a charmer. When we went to look at huskies, there were 20 in rescue, ranging in age from 10 months to 5 years. Sharon picked him out right away as the dog for us; I was less sure, but followed her lead. We asked many questions, and rescue grilled us quite thoroughly. They asked us if we could keep feeding him the same food, as he did well on it; we agreed. They also told us that he had mushed for a couple winters in Colorado, and was quite the puller on lead.

We had another dog at home, a german shepherd - timber wolf hybrid, and we made arrangements for her (Tasha) to meet Sebastian. They got along fine, which was the big hurdle in our eyes. So, we signed the paperwork, paid the rescue fee, and I scheduled a pickup time for the following day.

I took the SUV over to pick Sebastian up. He was large and well-muscled, about 75 lbs., and hopped into the back with ease. I chatted with the foster mom, and she said goodbye to him. We pulled out onto the main road, and for the first couple miles he sat in the back of the SUV, looking around, not pacing.

We came to the first traffic light, and he decided that he should be sitting in the front passenger seat. He climbed in, sat down on my cell, turning it off, and started at me, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, a half-smile on his face. Of course, I didn't know if he was smiling at the thought of going home with me or tearing out my throat as soon as I put both hands on the wheel to drive. I talked to him a bit, gave him a muzzle rub, and the light turned green; he kept staring at me, looking for some reaction.

We drove the rest of the way home with him maintaining that goofy stare the entire way.

*
In Part 2, I'll describe how I mishandled nearly every aspect of Sebastian's training according to the vast majority of Sibe owners, and how my mishandling was motivated by my perception that he needed somebody to trust him.

Reading List for the past week or so

2008-03-13T07:14:00.000-04:00

A further look into my depraved skull.

Just finished:

Cormac McCarthy: No Country for Old Men; The Road

McCarthy bears repeated reading. The Road left me with more hope for mankind than No Country.

Stewart O'Nan: Night Country; A Prayer for the Dying

Night Country is a fun, yet meaningful twist on the old story of ghostly hauntings. It provides a poignant look at the price paid for covering up mistakes with a whitewashed "spin" version of reality. There's a lesson there for all of us.

A Prayer is just the darkest motherfucking glimpse into one man's living hell that I've ever read. I'll write more about this later; although this is a slim volume, and reads quickly, it is extremely emotionally dense. When I finished reading it, I looked up, and said "Oh my fucking god."

Rabih Alameddine: The Hakawati

I just started this last night; it's a series of tales, wrapped in a novel, and reminds me of one of my favorite books: The Decameron. It's reflective, it's earthy, it's bawdy, it's spontaneous storytelling. There's a larger story at play, which I'm sure I'll comment upon later. A simply marvelous book, due to be published in a month or so.

Cormac McCarthy

2008-03-12T22:03:00.000-04:00

Cormac McCarthy writes about things that are missing.

In No Country For Old Men, he writes about the absence of god, morals, and traditionally "good" values which most of us accept as commonplace. It's easy to miss this: when I first read No Country, close to it's publication, I missed it. I read the novel as a plot-driven, dark, suspenseful - and ultimately forgettable - page-turner.

On some level, as the brothers Coen have discovered, the book is exactly that: it's an extremely visual book as well. From the opening scene in which we witness Chigurh dispassionately kill a deputy sheriff, to the final showdown at the hotel, McCarthy writes in a voice that seems to assume a film director's viewpoint of the action.

Characters remain largely one-dimensional, and McCarthy skillfully chooses to portray only the dimensions of a character to provide contrast and / or to help illustrate his larger point. We learn only one thing about Chigurh - he is the quintessential dispassionate killing machine; a real-life, flesh-and-blood Terminator, if you will, fueled only by money.

The exception to this is Sheriff Bell: switching to Bell's voice, McCarthy gives us a fairly well rounded character, and we learn quite a bit of him. Bell's voice is the voice of reason, an oasis of calm in an otherwise perfect motherfuck of a storm from hell.

This brings up a point of McCarthy's brilliance: No Country, like life itself, can be treated as a incidental journey as we pursue material pleasures. However, in reading this way, we may well miss out on the most valuable experiences the journey has to offer.

The Sisters

2008-03-12T18:28:00.000-04:00

Training has been going fairly well, considering that I'm battling the flu. I've been holding back, trying not to go too hard and end up getting really sick again. Pushed a little bit last night, and am coughing up green shit today. Not good. So, I'm taking it easy, just played out in the back yard and on the deck with the dogs after work.

I've been having a pretty good time playing with the mals and the sibe: we went out Saturday evening during the blizzard, down to the open field we normally loop around, and struggled through really deep, powdery snow for about an hour. They love the snow, it's funny to see Shina struggle so much in it - she really has a low exercise tolerance compared to her sister Kira.

Sister Shina:

Sister Kira

It's been a lot of work with these girls. Same-sex littermates are probably not what any normal person would want their first experience with malamutes to be. There certainly have been moments when they tried to kill each other, and I've lost any fear I had of stepping into the midst of fighting dogs.

They're right about 6 months old, and probably weighing about 65-70lbs. They'll be big girls someday quite soon.

Ice Storm

2008-03-05T19:56:00.001-05:00

(click for larger image)

I wish I had something other than a point and shoot camera; the woods were beautiful today. Last night, taking the puppies out for their last evening stroll, I could hear branches cracking and trees falling, their snaps and explosions echoing through an otherwise silent night.

It's been some years since we had an ice storm this strong.

The Flu

2008-03-03T12:43:00.001-05:00

I'm sick with the flu today. It started on the weekend, I couldn't tell if it was fatigue from training or not. So I trained hard on Saturday, which probably wasn't a good idea. Staying up late Saturday night wasn't such a great idea, either. I took my temperature this morning. 97.4 degrees F. No wonder I feel like shit. Does this mean I'm dying? A little bit of GoogleFu, and the MayoClinic tells me I might be fine, or I might have liver failure, kidney failure, sepsis, addison's disease, hypothyroidism, or might have taken too much heroin for too long. Of course, I'm still working. Because I'm a good American, a good stupid fuck*, who will continue to spend money on useless objects that serve no real purpose except to continue the conversion of our political system from democracy to capitalism. And somebody has to pay the bills.

*With apologies to Percival Everret: The Water Cure.