LAS VEGAS COCKER RESCUE - Tips to Bark About

LAS VEGAS COCKER RESCUE - "to PROTECT and SAVE"

LAUGHS*LAUGHS*LAUGHS*LAUGHS

Top 10 Signs Your Cocker Is Addicted To Tennis Balls

10. You own more than 20 tennis balls,

but don't own a racket.

9. You tell people that the ball accidentally

got super-glued to your dog's tongue, and

they believe you.

8. Your dog gives you that "don't even

think about taking this ball away from me" look.

7. The only way you get Cocker kisses

anymore is to stick a tennis ball on your nose

6. You don't see anything odd about

the fact that half-sized balls are twice the price.

5. In retrospect, Martina Navratalova

would have been a better name than Buffy

4. Yellow dots all over your back yard.

3. Two little words: Fuzz Breath!

2. If you look hard enough, you discover

that every picture of your dog has a

tennis ball in it somewhere.

And the number one sign that your

Cocker is addicted to tennis balls...

1. The dog has dropped so many in her

food dish that she can't get to the food anymore!

A woman brought a very limp Cocker Spaniel to

the veterinarian. As she lay her pet on the

table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope

and listened to the dog's chest. After a

moment or two, the vet shook his head

sadly and said, "I'm so sorry, your pet

has passed away."

The distressed owner wailed,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. The dog is dead,

" he replied.

"How can you be so sure", she protested.

"I mean, you haven't done any testing on

him or anything. He might just be in a

coma or something."

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around

and left the room. He returned a few

moments later with a black Labrador Retriever.

As the dog's owner looked on in amazement,

the Labrador stood on his hind legs, put his

front paws on the examination table and

sniffed the dead Cocker from top to bottom.

He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and

shook his head.

The vet petted the Labrador Retriever, took

him out of the room, and returned a few

moments later with a beautiful cat. The

cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed

the limp Cocker from head to tail and back

again. The cat sat back on its haunches,

shook his head, meowed softly, jumped

down and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said,

"I'm sorry, but as I said, your dog is most

definitely, 100% certifiably, dead."

Then the vet turned to his computer

terminal, hit a few keys, and produced a

bill, which he handed to the woman. The

dog's owner, still in shock, took the bill.

"$250!" she cried. "$250 just to tell me

my dog is dead?!!"

(OK, now the punch line)

The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you'd

taken my word for it, the bill would have

been $20. But with the Lab Report and

the Cat Scan, it all adds up."

A guy wanted to take his Cocker Spaniel into

a restaurant with him, so he put on dark

glasses and had the dog lead him into the establishment.

The waiter said "Hey!, you can't bring a dog in here."

The man indignantly claimed "I'm blind! ...

this is my Seeing Eye dog!"

"You're trying to tell me" said the waiter,

"that this Cocker Spaniel is a Seeing Eye dog?"

"What???!!", cried the man, "they gave

me a Cocker?"

Question: Why do Cocker Spaniels wag their tails?

Answer: Because no one else will do it for them!

Question: Why is a dog's nose in the middle of his face?

Answer: Because it's the scenter.

RECIPES*RECIPES*RECIPES

Minty Fresh Dog Biscuits

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup whole wheat flour

1/4 cup minced fresh parsley

3 tablespoons minced fresh mint

3/4 cup water

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 tablespoons honey

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a medium bowl, stir together flours,

parsley, and mint. In a small bowl, combine

water, vegetable oil, and honey. Add wet

ingredients to dry ingredients; mix well to

form a soft dough.

Working with 1/2 of the dough at a time, roll

out on a lightly floured surface to 1/8-inch

thickness. Cut out dough with cookie cutters,

using desired shapes.

Transfer to a lightly greased baking sheet and

bake 20-25 minutes or until lightly browned.

Transfer biscuits to a wire rack to cool. Store

in an airtight container in refrigerator up to

2 weeks or in freezer up to 3 months.

Yields:

2 dozen small biscuits

4 dozen large biscuits

Gourmet Dog Biscuits

2-1/2 Cups of Whole Wheat Flour

1/2 Cup of Powdered Milk

1 Teaspoon of Garlic Powder

1 Tablespoon of Wheat Germ

1 Teaspoon of Granular Beef Bouillon

6 Tablespoons of Bacon Grease or Meat Drippings

1 Egg

1/2 Cup of Ice Water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Combine dry ingredients and cut in bacon grease

or meat drippings. Mix in egg. Add enough ice

water to form a ball. Roll out to 1/2 inch thick and

cut into biscuits using your favorite cookie cutter.

Bake for 25-30 minutes. Makes approximately 9 biscuits.

Human Puppy Chow

Ingredients

1/2 cup butter or margarine
2 cups chocolate chips
1/3 cup peanut butter
9 cups of rice or corn chex
4 cups powdered sugar

Directions

In a large sauce pan, melt together butter, peanut butter, and chocolate chips.
Stir until all is evenly distributed and all is completely melted.
Measure out chex into a large bowl.
Pour chocolate mixture over chex and fold until all the chex are completely covered in the chocolate mixture.
Put powdered sugar into large paper bag.
Put chex into the bag with the sugar and shake until all chex are covered.
Add more sugar as needed.

PONDER*PONDER*PONDER*PONDER*PONDER*PONDER*PONDER

HOW COULD YOU? - By Jim Willis, 2001

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog ," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.

When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

A Note from the Author: If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American & Canadian animal shelters. Please use this to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.

Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet. Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY.

Now that the tears are rolling down your face, pass it on! Send to everyone in your address book and around the world! This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!