I Am Shiba.

So What Are Shibas Good For?

I Am Shiba. I Keep Busy.

Rescue Shiba 911

**chomp**chomp**chomp**

Knock on the door.

**chomp**chomp**

The People get up and leave their dinner table to answer the door. It is a salesman. They are not amused.

**chomp**chomp**chomp**

They asked me, Why didn't you bark, and alert us to the situation?

**chomp**

Excuse me, but I get 2 fifteen minute breaks a day. Like a policeman in a donut shop, my mealtimes are my own time. I am off duty. So please, don't expect me to get upset that your dinner was interrupted by the doorbell since I chose not to respond so that I can enjoy mine.

It's not like it was an emergency or anything.

Unlike the other night.

When I was asleep and the entire household was awoken by a large crash and thump. Okay, modify that. I was the only one who was asleep and awoken by the large crash and thump.

That Guy had decided to microwave himself a bowl of chicken with noodles, and with Pepsi in hand, walked down the steps to his basement. About half way down, he fell and everything went flying. There was pasta and chicken everywhere. So, the feline was placed in another room, and The Woman called me down into the basement to help with clean-up.

While The Woman removed the large Pepsi stain, I immediately identified my task as the Noodle-Chicken Carpet Remover. Much to my pleasure, That Guy had made himself a rather big bowl of the meal. I even found a stray noodle or three that had traveled further from the scatterings than most.

I certified that this crime scene was safe, and returned back to bed. To add to the sorrow of That Guy's situation, there was no more noodles or chicken left for a second meal.

That Guy, the next morning, had a huge bruise on his left leg that The Woman deemed "impressive."

Bummer for him. Happy Moment for Me.

I Am Shiba. I Both Walk a Beat and Work CSI.

Pet Smart

Last year, The People made a decision to refinish the tub in their bathroom. It is now all nice and white, and squeaky clean but an issue came about that The Shiba could no longer be placed into this nice shiny tub since it appears that I have claws and these could injure the tub.

Not that this bothered me. I have never been a fan of baths.

However, this spring as my coat has decided to blow, That Guy offered to pay for me to go to Pet Smart to "get groomed." Sounds suspicious. Pet Smart is for buying toys and treats. The only dogs that get groomed are those poofy dogs that sit on people's laps and bark all the time. But the arrangements are made, and at 9 am., I find myself inside Pet Smart just as the Puppy Socialization class is starting.

Now, The Woman is very intrigued by this. There are, in her opinion, some very cute puppies present and she fawns over several of them before class begins (**yawn**). Things got interesting when the puppies decided to socialize with me.

First, there was a Boxer puppy who insisted upon jumping on my head and pulling at my ear. I batted her down with one paw, and she howled like I was using a large stick. This got the attention of a Husky puppy who immediately jumped on my back, causing me to have to flip around and knock him to the ground. The third puppy, something white and yappy, immediately began to rush at my feet so while I was defending myself from the Husky, I stepped on the white yappy thing, and it screeched its way back to its person and hid behind her. By this point, The Woman is dragging me away from the arena and toward what I hope is a dog spa rather than just a sink and a hose.

At least I did my part in socializing the puppies.

So I get washed, vacuumed, brushed, nails clipped, and wait for The Woman and That Guy to pick me up. Which they do. I see them on the other side of the wall, in the waiting area, and I know that I am going to get out of here RIGHT NOW because I am done with being touched by strangers. However, between me and them is an obstacle.

A black pit bull who needs her nails clipped.

The Woman steps forward and shouts to the handler to be careful, but the Pit Bull Owner says "oh don't worry, my dog is friendly." I start to make my move on the Pit Bull, getting my karate ready because the Pit Bull is in MY way, and The Woman says something like "watch out!" or "Shibas eat Pit Bulls for appetizers," and the two handlers are able to separate me from the Pit Bull who merely is standing around looking confused.

The path to My People is clear and I am ready to go. Even when other dogs attempt to approach me as we are leaving, my mission is to get out the door as soon as possible as to avoid any further contact with other dogs. I have already proven myself a worthy opponent; now it is time to go home and celebrate my Shibaness.

Oh, and I might add, I look great too!

I Am Shiba. I Am Now A Lean, Mean, and Clean Fighting Machine.

French Fries at Midnight

Last night, I was politely woken from my crate by the delightful smell of greasy potatoes being cooked to crispy perfection.

"Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me"

The Woman and That Guy had turned on the movie "Serenity" and invited me to join them for a late night showing and snack.

"It's Love. He loved his sister and he knew she was in pain. So he took her somewhere safe."

While I did not find the movie as entertaining as they, the French Fries were cooked to perfection.

"Start with the part where Jayne gets knocked out by a ninety pound girl. 'Cause I don't think that's ever gonna get old."

I retired to my crate when the French Fries ran out. That Guy went to bed around the same time I did.

"I don't care what you believe! Just believe it!"

I could hear The Woman watching the rest of the movie but she did not make any more snacks. So, I opted to stay in my crate rather than lie next to her as she cheered for River and Mal, and mourned Wash's passing.

"Love. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you can take a boat in the air that you don't love, she'll shake you off as sure as the turning of the worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurting 'fore she keens. Makes her home."

I Am Shiba. I Am A Leaf on the Wind. I Am The Love That Makes A Home.

April 25, 2007

It has been a year since Michael Vicks went under investigation for dogfighting. On December 10, 2007, he was sentenced in Federal Court to 23 months in jail for dogfighting across state lines, and potentially being involved in the death and torture of dogs. He received his to due a plea bargain agreement, but he still awaits state charges for many of the same charges of animal abuse and dogfighting.

In the U.S., dogfighting is considered a felony in every state except Wyoming and Idaho. Despite that fact, according to The Humane Society, it's estimated that somewhere between 20,000-40,000 people in this country take part in this multi-billion dollar industry. American pit bull terriers account for 99 percent of the species involved in dogfighting, and a pit bull puppy can cost as much as $5,000. An average dog fight carries a $10,000 purse.

Forty-eight dogs were rescued from Michael Vick's dog yard "Bad Newz Kennels", and while only one was euthanized (for medical reasons), most have been placed in sanctuaries while a few are being re-trained for adoption. Most are unadoptable (for obvious reasons) but will live out their lives without fear of the ring. The few that are adoptable were taken by several organizations to be fostered and taught how to be dogs. Some were sent as far away as Utah in order to find individuals who could undertake this difficult task of rehabilitating dogs who have been taught to "do or die."

Michael Vicks is still in jail as I write this. For the sake of all dogs, I hope he stays in there for a lot longer.