Gadgets for the Techie Pet Owner

I won’t lie … my dogs and cats have a pretty nice life.  I don’t really consider them spoiled, because I do insist that they be reasonably well-mannered and appropriately behaved, but they do have it pretty good.  Though, the way I see it, they deserve it.  They bring an incredible amount of joy, love, and companionship to my life, so even given all I do for them, I still feel like it can’t possibly compare to all they give to me.  Also, all five of them had less than auspicious beginnings in life.  The dogs were both rescue pups, (though The Flying Monkey had an easier time of it than The Paragon did – she got yanked from a high kill shelter in Miami along with her sister and was queening it up in her foster home and sleeping in bed with her foster mom’s little girl when I adopted her) and all three cats were born feral.   I consider myself incredibly lucky to have each of them, but there’s no doubt that they also got pretty lucky to have landed themselves a home with us.  Things could easily have gone far differently for each of them, and indeed, for The Baby in particular, he probably didn’t have much longer out there on his own before starvation, dehydration, and a nasty respiratory infection would have done him in. 

The point is … I do concede that this once-motley, now greatly beloved, furry crew of mine do have things pretty good.  But neither are they particularly spoiled.  Their collars and leashes aren’t terrifically expensive, they don’t have “wardrobes” to speak of, except for a few T-shirts and sweaters for the dogs when it’s cold and they need them, and they certainly aren’t slurping mineral water out of crystal dishes.  They get filtered tap water in stainless steel bowls, and they like it just fine!  About the only thing I do splurge on is their food, but I don’t even really consider that a splurge.  I consider it an investment in their health, and that’s why my vet bills, except for things like routine checkups and blood work, and the required-by-law yearly rabies vaccines (I don’t routinely vaccinate for anything but rabies – I do titers instead), are just about nonexistent. 

But even though I don’t consider myself particularly extravagant (in much of anything, but even where my greatly treasured furry housemates are concerned) I do still like to keep an eye on the trends.  So today when I was scanning MSN.com for my daily dose of all things newsworthy and not-so-newsworthy, my eye was caught by an item that read “The 7 Best Tech Gadgets for Pets.”  I had five minutes to kill, so I clicked.  Here’s what I found:

Gadget #1:  The iFetch ($100 from goifetch.com) 

  
This gadget shoots a ball up to 30 feet away whenever the ball is dropped into the funnel.  For ball-obsessed dogs, whose owners get tired of throwing a ball over and over, I can see the appeal in this gadget.  But in my house, the pups’ preference runs more toward stuffy toys with squeakers than to balls.  I have some friends whose dogs might really like this, though. 

Verdict:  I can see where this might come in handy for some people, but for me I would have to pass.  

Gadget #2:  The Passport Pet Access Smart System Door ($230 from petsafe.com)
 

 Truthfully, I’m kind of surprised that this particular gadget made it on anyone’s short list.  I’ve seen its’ like many times before.  It’s a pet door that can be programmed to allow entry or exit only for designated pets by using a little electronic key that attaches to their collar. As I said, I’ve seen other ones that advertise similar capabilities in the past, so I can’t see what’s so different or great about this particular one. 

 Verdict:  Pass 

Gadget #3:  The Petnet Smart Feeder ($249 from petnet.io) 

Again – I’m not terribly impressed with this one.  Its selling points include that you can manage exactly when your pet eats and exactly how much.  But other automatic feeders can do this, too, and actually, so can I, with my own two hands, albeit not when I am not actually home!  The difference here is that you can program the portion amounts and the times the food is dispensed via a computer, smartphone, or tablet.  I guess this is handy, but again, I prefer to feed my animals myself.  Also, I feed a raw diet, so it probably wouldn’t work very well for me anyway.

Verdict:  Pass

Gadget #4:  The Whistle Activity Monitor ($130 from whistle.com)

Perhaps my Amish roots are showing, but here’s another gadget I just don't see the point in.  A little device hooks on to the pet’s collar, and “uses information like weight, age, and breed to crunch data about your pet’s periods of activity and rest.”  This, apparently, allows you to “set and chart health goals and track behavior patterns.”  To what purpose, I’m not exactly sure. 

Verdict:  Pass 

Gadget #5:  PetChatz ($349 from petchatz.com)

At the risk of sounding like the boat-coveting-woman-from-Napoleon-Dynamite let me just say:  I want this!  Unlike with a web cam, not only can you see/hear your pets, but they can see/hear you as well.  The PetChatz unit is plugged into an electrical outlet and then screwed securely into the wall stud.  The PetChatz unit is connected to your home WiFi network and then you log in to PetChatz.com on your computer, or download the app on your tablet or smartphone, and you’re ready to go.  Go to the PetChatz website and see a video of it in action.

Verdict:  $349 doesn’t seem that bad for this system – heck, it even dispenses treats – but then again – I can think of other things I would probably rather buy for that amount of money.  And yet I can’t deny that I really would like to try it out.  Not even for the dogs so much, as they are with me at the office most days, but for the cats.  Especially because I like to go away for the weekend (usually the dogs come along) and when I do, it’s easy to have my pet sitter come twice a day to feed the cats, but The Hunk, especially, is so shy with people he doesn't know well, that my pet sitter, K, pretty much has to take it on faith that everyone’s still alive and well.  The fact that I could dispense treats remotely would be kind of fun, and I can see The Baby, especially, really digging that.  I’m highly intrigued, and feeling covetous, but not quite ready to whip out my credit card at this juncture. 

Gadget #6:  The Tagg Tracker ($100 from pettracker.com plus an $8 per month service fee after the first 90 days of service) 

This gadget, I admit, is pretty cool.  It attaches to your pet’s collar (it’s designed to be worn at all times – and is even waterproof!) and uses a GPS system to keep tabs on the pet’s location.  If the pet strays from a designated zone, you’ll be alerted by both email and text message, and you can track the pet’s location on a map using your computer, or mobile device (you have to download the free Tagg mobile app for that).  With my current situation, and my current animals, I don’t have much real need of this device, though given The Baby’s penchant for staring holes through doors (and his recently documented ability to OPEN them himself), this probably would be a good idea for him.  And it definitely would have come in handy back in my departed Malamute mix, Dakotah’s, glory days.  That boy could run like the wind, and he’d take any available opportunity to take off and explore on his own.  I remember one sleepless night in particular when a family member accidentally let him out during a torrential rainstorm and he got his collar snagged on something, got stuck fast, and it wasn’t until daylight that someone spotted him.

Verdict:  If you have an escape-prone pet, this definitely seems worth looking into. 

Gadget #7:  The Petcube ($149 from petcube.com) 

Similar to the PetChatz, this gadget is designed to let you keep an eye on your pet(s) when away from home.  Set to debut in May, it will allow you to check in on your pet(s) via a mobile app.  A wide angle camera streams and records HD video to your computer or smartphone, and apparently you can move around a laser pointer to “virtually play with your pet.” Though cheaper than the PetChatz system, this one doesn’t really thrill me.  If I were to choose between the two, I’d rather pay double the money for the PetChatz system as it just seems like it can do more, and is more interactive. 

Verdict:  Pass 

Overall, quite a few of these gadgets were not all that exciting to me, but I really am strongly considering trying out the PetChatz system, and I think the Tagg Tracker is also a great idea, especially for pets that are known escape artists.

What about you?  Do any of these strike your fancy?  Is there a pet-related gadget that you just can't live without?

Freaky Friday

So far, this has just been "one of those days" where nothing seems to go as planned, and, as the post title suggests, everything is just a little bit freaky.  Including, and maybe even especially, yours truly.  Fortunately, The Paragon is managing to keep it together.  

You know the saying "The more people I meet, the more I love my dog"?  Yeah, this is SO one of those days.  Weekend, here I come! 

Hope your day is great!

Holy Dog! Does Alligator ALWAYS smell like this?!!!!

So yesterday, I ran to Petco on my lunch hour to pick up a few bully sticks for my office stash, because 1) we were out and 2) The Paragon was having severe jealousy issues because my friend K's Yorkie/Maltese mix puppy, C, was enjoying the heck out of his bully stick and he had nary a one to enjoy his own self.   

I probably should mention ... I'm a bit of a dog food / cat food freak.  The 2007 recalls were a big eye-opener for me, and though I had fed raw before, I made a renewed commitment to it after that.  First I went to pre-made (commercially available) raw food, and then when even some of those brands started having recall issues, I decided to eliminate about 98.8% (ok, this is a made-up number, but it's pretty close to accurate) of commercially-made food and treats for my companion animals.  It's kind of a PITA, but I sleep a lot better at night, and I don't spend any more money than I ever did.  In fact, when it comes to the cats, I know I spend less (considering that a 5.5 ounce can of canned cat food averages about $1.50 or more in most pet stores). 

But I digress.  Back on track.  As I was saying, I was in Petco yesterday, on an emergency bully stick run on behalf of The Paragon.  The treat aisle is one aisle over from where the bully sticks live, and normally when I'm there I grab a bag or two of Zuke's treats to have on hand, but I recently found out that Zuke's was bought out by Purina, and that fact gives me serious pause to say the least (they say nothing will change, but I only have to remember how things did change, and quickly, when Proctor & Gamble bought out Natura, to have a hard time believing that).  So I was looking for something else that I felt ok about buying.  Since the recent and ongoing jerky debacle, one of my main criteria is that it has to be made in the US.  

After a few minutes, I found something I'd never seen before:  Louisiana Alligator Jerky by Think Dog.  These are the ingredients:  Alligator, Whole Ground Potatoes, Maple Syrup, Barley Flour, Vegetable Glycerin, Canola Oil, Salt, Natural Smoke Flavor, Garlic, Rosemary, Sorbic Acid, Citric Acid, Mixed Tocopherols. A pretty short ingredient list, made in the USA, and it was alligator ... I was intrigued.  My dogs have never had alligator before.  Anyway, I bought 'em.  

The good news?  The dogs love them!  The bad news?  They stink like what I'd imagine the third circle of hell smells like on a good day.  I am not kidding - the stench is nauseating.  So I'm curious.  Is it something else in these treats (I can't think what?) or does alligator ALWAYS smell like this?  Because if it does, I can guarantee that after this bag is gone, The Paragon and The Flying Monkey will NOT be eating alligator again anytime soon.  Or ever.  

Do tell ... have you ever tried these treats for your dogs?  Or any other treats or food with alligator as an ingredient?  If so, how in the world do you stand the stench?

Of Dog Parks & Dimwits

The Paragon, The Flying Monkey, and The Cowardly Lion - ready to go to the dog park (cat butt photo bomb courtesy of The Diva) 

The weather here has been gorgeous lately, and I just can't seem to get enough of being outside.  (The previous few weeks, it has been gray and nasty, even though the temperatures have been in the forties and fifties, which I love, and I also know that the heat of summer, which lasts about eight months of the year here in Florida, is going to be here before I know it.)  So on Saturday morning, I suggested to my sister, K, that we take The Three Amigos (consisting of The Paragon, The Flying Monkey, and her Wheaten Terrier/Golden Retriever Mix, The Cowardly Lion) to the dog park.  

On the subject of dog parks in general, I am always a bit ambivalent.  I have, over the years, had more than a handful of "I can't believe I just witnessed this in real life ... surely I'm being Punk'd." moments.  Like the time, for example, that a twenty-something guy swaggered in with this poor, skinny little six or eight month pit bull on an honest-to-God chain  hooked on to some sort of home-made prong collar/choke chain thing.  I am not kidding ... it looked positively medieval.  Not to mention that taking a leashed dog (and I use that term loosely, shackled would have been a better word) into a big group of unleashed dogs is always a bad idea, anyway.  But that was not the worst part.  The worst part was that the poor dog was in heat, and this asshat (sorry, I have been trying, lately, to keep the four letter words to a minimum, but an asshat is exactly what this guy was; in fact, if Asshat were a country, he would be their Asshat King, or maybe their Asshat in Chief, and plus, it is technically six letters, so I'm letting it slide) had brought her there to, and I quote, "get her knocked up."  It was a head-desk moment to end all head-desk moments.  I can literally feel my blood pressure rising right now, and this was years ago.  

In any case, for this reason, and because of a dozen or so incidents in a similar vein (though that one did, then, and still does now, take the proverbial cake), I am always a little bit skeptical when I go to the dog park, wondering what craziness, poor judgment, or sheer idiocy I might encounter while there.  Suffice it to say, I don't go to the dog park all that often, probably two or three times a year, on average.  I hadn't been to this particular one, which is now the closest one to where I live since I moved back in July, for several years.  

This particular park is actually pretty nice, because it has three separate areas.  One really large area, a medium-sized area, and then a smaller area.  The medium-sized area is kind of a buffer zone / no-man's land between the large and the small area.  The small area is reserved, unofficially, for small dogs, although when we got there on Saturday, there were several small dogs in the large area, and since there weren't any really big dogs there, that seemed to be fine.  (The largest dog there was a Siberian Husky; most of the others larger dogs were about the size of The Cowardly Lion, which is to say, not terribly big.  (TCL weighs forty-three pounds or thereabouts.)

It seemed a little chaotic when we first got there, but the area is pretty large, and most of the chaos seemed to be at the far end, so as the middle, medium-sized, area was completely empty, we decided to go ahead on in.  The Paragon immediately started making the rounds, as he generally does in situations like these, while The Flying Monkey stuck close to me, and The Cowardly Lion tried to get up the nerve to play with the Sibe. He wanted to, but he is a bit cowardly, as you might imagine.  All was normal. 

Within five or ten minutes, though, things started to change. You know that feeling you get when something just isn't right?  Well, I had it.  About thirty feet away or so, a cluster of dogs had gathered around their humans (or some humans, anyway, whether theirs or someone else's) and one dog began relentlessly humping another while the other dogs nearby circled anxiously, and the people involved stood by and did absolutely nothing.  Well, that's not true.  They did worse than nothing.  They treated it like a sideshow.  Like entertainment.  They laughed and pointed and basically behaved as though they were completely oblivious of the tension that was brewing.  I didn't like it, and I definitely didn't want any of our dogs in the middle of it, so I suggested to K that we exit that area, go to the middle section, and just let our three dogs play amongst themselves.  

Which we did, and which they did, for fifteen or twenty minutes.  On the other side of the fence,  we watched a mild fight break out among the humper, the humpee, and the canine bystanders.  Fortunately, one or two of the human gawkers finally got it together and broke up the humpfest as well as the resultant altercation.  We were just about to leave, when a man came in to the middle area with his Australian Shepherd*.  K and I chatted with him a bit, and learned that his dog, I'll call him Rowdy, was a rescue, and a bit peculiar, something not out of the ordinary for this breed, which K and I know all too well, as we had one growing up.  

Frankly, though, it was not long into the conversation before I could tell (because I have known K since she was born, which is to say rather well, and I can pretty much tell exactly what she is thinking at all times) that K and I were thinking pretty much the same thing:  that it wasn't just the dog who was a bit peculiar. A suspicion which was borne out, and then some, when Rowdy's owner began calling the dogs on the other side of the fence over to the fence line so that ... wait for it ... Rowdy could chase them.  

And no, I am not kidding.  I wish.  Fence-fighting, as anyone who has ever dealt with it knows, is no joke, and this seemed, to me, a pretty darn good way to get one started.  Especially since Rowdy did not just want to chase the dog on the other side of the fence.  He wanted to bark and growl at it.  In fact, between the barking, the growling, and the very deliberate lie-downs, creep-ups, and intense stares, Rowdy looked very much like the classic picture of the herding dog he is whilst said dog is in the process of herding something.  Like, say, sheep.  Except dogs are not sheep, and the dogs on the other side of the fence did not very much want to be herded.  Nor did they want to be barked or growled at.  All of which poor Rowdy, his herding instinct now fully engaged, was oblivious to.  And which his not-so-intelligent owner was most definitely oblivious to.

All in all, it seemed a pretty darn good time to get out of there, which we did.  And I don't think we'll be going back anytime soon.  There are other places to take the dogs to run off-leash that aren't such a free for all.

What about you?  What is your opinion of dog parks?  

* Dog's name and breed changed to protect the not-so-intelligent owner of said dog.  I may also have changed the owner's gender.  

Black & White Sunday

Yesterday, the weather was so gorgeous that it seemed criminal to waste it indoors. So after I got back from my riding lesson, The Paragon and I decided to head out to explore and take some photos.  Here are a few of them: 

 We are participating in the Black & White Sunday Blog Hop, hosted by Nola the Dachshund and Sugar the Golden Retriever.  Come hop with us!

Meet The Paragon

 

The Paragon is a ten (soon to be eleven, and I can’t tell you how that fact gives me pause) year old Chinese Crested, who’s somewhere between a Powderpuff and a Hairy Hairless, according to the Chinese Crested breeders I’ve consulted. As a bit of back story, The Paragon was a rescue pup who I adopted in the fall of 2003, hence the confusion as to his exact coat type, and in fact the confusion as to his breed in general. Truth be told, he had been with me for three years or so before I knew what breed he was, and I only found out when I took him to be evaluated for therapy work and the woman who was evaluating him told me so. I had him down on his paperwork as a terrier mix, as it seemed more precise than “I have absolutely no idea,” and she was confused initially, thinking she had the wrong paperwork or the wrong dog, but once we sorted that out, she told me in no uncertain terms that I had a purebred Crested on my hands, and not the motley mixed breed I had thought.

Not that it made a whit of difference to me, (though it did solve the mystery about why his front dewclaws had been removed, something you don't normally see on dogs that aren't purposely bred) but once she told me, it was like a light bulb went on, and the breeders I consulted and sent his picture to concurred. Those familiar with this breed probably know, as I did not, then, that the differences in Cresteds’ appearances based on grooming and whether their ears were taped as puppies (The Paragon’s were not) can be pretty dramatic, (if you don't believe me, Google Chinese Crested images sometime and you'll see what I mean), so I use that as an excuse as to why I had this dog for three years and saw him every day and had no idea what he really was. Not that I really needed an excuse, but my ego WAS somewhat bruised. After all, I was a dog-obsessed child who grew up into a dog-obsessed adult, and by the time I was seven or eight I could identify all the AKC-recognized breeds by their pictures, and correctly spell and pronounce most of them. I know my dog breeds, damn it, from Affenpinscher to Yorkshire Terrier, and just about every breed and variety in between. Or at least I’d thought I did, until The Paragon made a fool out of me. Ah, well. Keeps me humble, I guess.

Anyway ... where was I? Oh, yes … The Paragon. The Paragon’s real name is not, as you have likely surmised, actually The Paragon. That would be a bit pretentious, it has zero nickname potential, and would be extremely embarrassing to call out at the dog park. "The Paragon, come here!"  Yeah, I'd sound like an idiot.  Even as I sit here writing this, I'm blushing.  And I'm pretty sure the dog in question is cringing on the inside.    

However, I have often been quoted as saying that he is the perfect dog, so there you go. His alias was born.  Or christened.  Whatever.  But for those of you who don’t already know him, either in real life or from our former blog, here’s a little nugget I’ll share with you in the interest of total honesty: (because the only sound foundation for any relationship, including the one between Blogger and Reader, is honesty, right?)  So here goes: The Paragon is not, actually, perfect. Don’t get me wrong, he’s darn close to it, but still, he’s not, technically, 100% totally and completely and absolutely perfect. He does have one or two flaws.  

Flaw #1: He barks. A lot. Not incessantly, mind you, but often. And more loudly than his sixteen-pounds-soaking-wet size might have you believe. He has always been this way, but truthfully it has never really been THAT big of a deal. A minor annoyance, mostly.  After all, he does quiet when asked, and he's otherwise so perfect, almost angelic really, not to mention insanely adorable, that the barking thing was just never an issue.  Not in the entire ten years we've been together.  But recently, this teensy-tinesy little flaw did become AN ISSUE.  (Which is a subject for another post, so I'll save it for another day, so that, God willing, I won't have to write another post about door mats!)

Flaw #2:  He's a nosybody.  Not in a bad way,  ... he just always wants to know what everyone is up to.  Not that he judges regardless, you understand.  He just wants to be in the know.  Like, all of the time.  One morning, during the first few days I had him, I was in the shower washing my hair, when all of a sudden the shower curtain parted, and in jumped The Paragon.  Not being especially fond of the water, he didn't particularly want to get wet, although he definitely DID get wet ... he just wanted to see what I was doing in there.  It's mostly me that he's interested in, and it's pretty much his mission in life to know where I am and not be more than a few feet away from me at any and all times, but people in general seem to fascinate and engage him, and he loves just about everyone, with few exceptions and just about zero reservations, even if they don't love him back.

Case in point:  a year or so ago, one of my co-workers poked her head into my office and said "Hey, can you come get The Paragon? He's in the meeting and I can't get him to leave." (See, I have this boss who is kind of a mad genius, and he's  extremely demanding and tries my patience practically to the limits of my tenuous hold on my sanity on pretty much a daily basis, but who is a pretty amazing person despite this, and who lets me bring my dogs to work, and so, because of this, I have to love him even when I want to kill him.)

Now, normally I don't bring The Paragon or The Flying Monkey (who I'll introduce you to later) to work with me when we have clients coming to the office, but this was a meeting of the unscheduled/impromptu variety, and so it happened that The Paragon and The Flying Monkey were both at the office that day.  Last I had looked, they were both snoozing in their bed next to my desk, but I had gotten wrapped up on a phone call and apparently The Paragon was feeling nosybodyish and had decided to check out what was going on in the conference room.  When I went to fetch him, there he was, sitting at rapt attention, as though he would later be asked to recite the minutes.  

Flaw #3:  He's busy.  Not a busybody ... which we've already established that he is. (See Flaw #2) But just plain busy.  As in ... has a hard time settling down, regardless of how much exercise he has or has not had, or how worn out he should or should not be.  He's not hyperactive ... he's just curious ... about everything.  What will happen if I push that (insert name of object here) with my nose?  How about if I tap it with my paw? Shove it with my head?  I swear if he had thumbs, or was human, he would be the one building a space shuttle in his garage.  He would be a big-time tinkerer. A mad scientist type, right down to all the hair on his head standing on end.  Sometimes this trait is entertaining, or downright endearing.  Often, though, it's pretty annoying.  I do not like being distracted by wondering what that banging sound is on the second floor when I'm down in the den trying to watch Revenge.  

So ... three flaws.  Really ... just the three.  Well, wait, I just remembered something.  He snores.  But actually, I find this nothing but charming, so it doesn't really count as a flaw.  So yeah, just the three.  OK, so maybe he's not really a Paragon.  Maybe he's just the Mary Poppins of canines:  practically perfect in every way.  Practically perfect is still pretty good, though.  Regardless, for my money, (and no disrespect meant to The Flying Monkey or any of the other dogs I've known and loved over the years) he's the best dog I've ever had or, I'm sure, will ever have.  I don't know how I got so lucky, but I know one thing: I won the dog lottery the day I found him.