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a raised garden bed full of winter onions. "That's it! This dog is out of here!" my husband roared (before he calmed down).

Every young dog or puppy has to be civilized and trained

It's one of those jobs you just don't ask a native (and lifelong) Californian to do: review dog coats. The only time I tried it, I failed; I separated the products under consideration into two categories – rain coats and warm coats – and was taken to task, rightly, for not providing a choice for dogs who have to go out in freezing rains. Because . . . a freezing rain? I have never experienced such a thing, much less had to walk my dog in one.

I don't know why it always surprises me when someone refers proudly to their strict adherence to prohibiting their dog from getting any "people food."I understand they are proud because they believe they are doing the right thing – that they think "people food" is somehow bad for dogs and that they are keeping their dogs well (and well - behaved, even) by not "spoiling" them.What I don't understand is how people have come to regard what I'm going to call * real food * could be bad for dogs.

I don't know about you, but my Facebook news feed is often cluttered with posts regarding lost dogs. In the past week alone, friends or family shared photos and information about half a dozen different lost dogs, from all different parts of the country and lost due to all sorts of circumstances. I find these posts doubly sad, because not only are the people bereft for the loss of their dogs (and the dogs unquestionably scared out of their minds, cold, and hungry), many of the incidents described appear to have been avoidable - with hindsight, of course. But the point is, if people thought more about the bad things that can happen when they least expected them, and worked to prevent them, many of these tragic "lost dog" cases would never happen.

vaccinations

he will walk away from the bowl to investigate that thought

As I approached the front of the supermarket, I saw about six or seven people standing in a circle. Uh oh, I thought, and sure enough: There was a couple there with three pit-mix puppies. The pups looked like they were about 8 weeks old; they had the pudgy, unformed bodies and the stoic/exhausted expressions of very young pups.

First, of course: Otto my wonder dog. I could not be more thankful for this dog, I really couldn't. It's incredible to me that I've been lucky enough to have two "heart dogs" in my adult lifetime. Otto and his predecessor (Rupert the Border Collie, who passed away at the age of 14 in late 2003) could not be more different in appearance and temperament, but both of them have been so generously present for me. Both dogs have seen me through some tough times for me and my family, and I'm grateful for their constant companionship, soulful comfort when needed, and readiness for fun and adventure all the rest of the time. Border Collie owners are accustomed to their dogs watching them constantly, and so I accepted the ever-present scrutiny from Rupert, but I have to admit that it is a little unnerving to have a dog with no BC traits whatsoever being so sensitive to so much as a hitch in my breath or my tone of voice as I talk on the phone; Otto detects any emotional instability at all and offers himself to me immediately. "Here I am, pet me, it's going to be okay," he seems to say. And so far, with his help, it has been. Thank you, Otto.

Why do people expect dogs to be calm and quiet when they are left outside for hours and hours, with minimal protection from the weather - or at least, a lot less than they get indoors - and nothing in particular to do? It has to be one of my top three dog-owner pet peeves. For me, there is just nothing as aggravating as listening to a dog barking incessantly. I both feel for the dog and feel murderous at the same time. Who do I want to murder? Alternately, the dog, the owner, and myself!

I've mentioned a bunch of times that I have helped find homes for a number of foster dogs, and helped friends who were looking for a certain type of dog to find one who fits into their family perfectly. As far as I know, all the dogs I've placed into homes continue to live happily in those homes - with one exception.

I could not WAIT for them to go to their forever homes, and the last one went home on Saturday... and now I miss them unbearably - their relentless exploring and fooling around, tireless curiosity, darling miniature barks and howls and growls, and cheerful learning during our many-times-a-day-for-just-one-minute training sessions. It didn't help that I let the last puppy sleep with me in my bed, the last two nights I had him.

the deworming helped