Dog Man

The Woman has gone back to school as her full-time job. She is no longer working full-time for a school but rather is a student herself. Her schooling requires considerable reading that She does at the kitchen table with two Shibas lying close by. A glass of wine, some cheese, and her highlighter, She elegantly addresses her books with class and style.

However, recently, The Woman took a break from the huge textbooks on the couch, desk, and table, and read the book: Dog Man: An Uncommon Life on a Faraway Mountain by Martha Sherrill.

If you have any interest in the ancient breeds, in Japan during WWII and beyond, in transitioning cultures and family values, this is a must read book. The author successfully cements these themes and more as it focuses on the history of the Akita and its post-war development in Japan. One can not examine a breed as proud as the Akita (or the Shiba) without examining The People Who Stand Behind Them. These are not breeds that Society wants to morph into something else, or design into a different dog. Both breeds are cherished for what exactly they represent; their history, their integrity, their individualism, something that so many other breeds lack. And between the Shiba and the Akita, there are four others, each with their own story that needs to be written and cherished. However, this book focuses only on the one- the Akita and how it came to be.

The Japanese have the right idea on how to make the perfect dog. It's Society that just needs to recognize us as that.

If you have a rainy afternoon or a few night time hours, this book should be on top of your list. Outside of the fact that it is exceptional well written, it tells a story of a country rebuilding not only its new self, but addressing tradition- as in what is a dog that stood by a Samurai's side or hunted to feed the family it cherished.

It is the story of Japanese Mountain Dogs.



I Am Shiba. I Was Born To The Mountains and To Smell The Melting Waters of Spring.

I Have A New Game!

I have discovered that when I do the Shiba 500 through the Living room, down the Hallway and into the Bedroom, I can grab and pull clothes off the shelves.

The People keep their clothes in these very modern style cubicles. They are within easy reach of a fast moving Shiba.

I have discovered that if you grab the one at the bottom, the whole shelf comes out and you can drag everything everywhere, adding to the fun!!



I Am Shiba. Who Says An Old Dog Can't Learn New Tricks?

My Fans

They exist, both local and afar.

Recently, this post was made in the comment section of my blog:

"So glad Belle is feeling better - we actually saw you at the vet's on Sat. morning (we were with Comet, the other Shiba) and commented on how lovely Belle was...and we couldn't resist sneaking a peak at the regal Cortez patiently waiting in the car."

The paparazzi is everywhere! (By the way, Comet is a cool name for a Shiba).

The Woman and the family discussed Belle's health and myself being a therapy dog with no mention of the blog, and yet, there are reader's lurking behind their keyboards evervigilant of my local and international activities, and we cross paths with them without ever knowing of their Bookmarked Webpages.

A friend of the woman called the other day, stating that she was so embarrassed. Why? Because she approached a young man walking a Shiba in Squirrel Park and asked, "is this the infamous Cortez?" No, the young man responded, this is different Shiba, Cody. He is not the one with the Blog.

How primitive that a Shiba would not have a blog.

(We have known Cody since he was a small puppy lad and he has now grown into a magnificent example of what a Shiba should be. His person survived the puppyhood and now is ready to enjoy the magnificence of all that is Shiba with a dog who absolutely adores him. Plus, Cody has a longer nose than me. It's easy to tell us apart).

Of course, not a day goes by without Shiba adoration from the general public or the greeting of one Shiba person to another. We were in Chester, Connecticut when a Porsche SUV pulled up. A very well dressed lady came out and went "omg, a Shiba! I have one also!" and immediately a conversation ensued, much to the boredom of her male companion. I wonder if she is a blog reader.

Course, a Porsche SUV is a much better vehicle for a Shiba to ride in than a barely air conditioned Chevy Aveo.

Dogster is an awesome place to post about Shiba tips and antics, and I know on Winnie's blog, she discusses meet and greets with other people from Dogster who read her blog and follow her advice regarding training and health (Winnie having recently had health UTI health issues and her person was kinda enough to post options for her readership). And I don't know how Tierce deals with his large fan base on the Misanthropic Shiba, a site that single-handedly convinced many to indulge in the craziness of enjoying the Shiba psychosis.

It feels strange to realize that people actually read and follow my postings and thoughts. I have been posting them for three years now. It started when The People came back from Belgium, after abandoning me for two weeks at a wonderful kennel that knew and understood the Shiba mentality, but while there, I discovered my muse, and the blog was born.

So to my readers both near and far, I thank you for your three years of readership whether you own a Shiba or not. I thank the people who told us of their daughter in Japan and the Shibas that they saw there. I am sorry that the same restaurant did not have outside tables this year because we were hoping to see you again, and maybe meet your daughter. I thank the lady who insisted that I was a Yorkshire Terrier for giving me something to write about. (The Woman even asked, don't you mean a Corgi? and the lady responded, no, he looks just like a Yorkshire!)

That was a first and only.

But most of all, I am just content to say that the adventures will only continue. For the first time in five days, The Woman decided to take us *somewhere* to get us out of the house since it has been 90+ degrees every day, and eventhough it will be 90+ today, at least we got to play in the park and visit some of our local establishments.

But for now, I lie in front of the fan, shedding more fur, and basking in the joy of knowing that The Woman spends more hours cleaning up after me than she does talking to That Guy.



I Am Shiba. I Know Who Is The Important One Around Here.

Dear Philadelphia Eagles:

FAQ catagory: Why did you sign on Michael Vicks?

It's a question that myself and many other dog owners, rescuers, bloggers, caregivers, etc. are all asking. The excuse that he served his time hasn't stopped us from setting up websites for pedophiles nor has it given others who commit crimes the opportunity to return to their previous line of work. Individuals who commit fraud don't go back to working in financial management. Michael Vicks was given the opportunity to earn millions playing football. He chose to invest part of his millions into a dogfighting kennel that engaged in the practice of abusing the very investment he was funding. The Eagles need to reconsider their decision. If the only thing that Michael Vicks can do is fight dogs and play football, then maybe he needs to go back to school and learn a new skill but allowing him to enjoy his high salary high profile life once more is tantamount to saying Dogfighting Is Okay.


I Am Shiba, and I Approve This Message.

Contact: Philadelphia Eagles

Spread the Word

Old news? Maybe.

People tell me that Vicks served his time and received his punishment. But animal cruelty is considered to be one of the warning signs of Antisocial Personality Disorder according the the DSM-IV, and the things that Michael Vicks did (and now says that he regrets) are beyond cruelty.

He promoted sadistic behavior toward animals. He is the NFL's poster child for How to Use and Abuse Dogs.

Michael Vicks will now be playing for the Philadelphia Eagles. How sad. A noble bird, the symbol of our nation, adding to their team a man who enjoyed the image of machismo and needed a fighting dog to complete his bling. It's a disgrace to all the dogs who have served our country, work side by side with police officers, assist the disabled, help the blind to see, provide comfort to the infirmed, and complete a family. He saw dogs as a blood sport, a weapon, an accessory. And he did not engage in fair play. Intentionally fighting weaker dogs against stronger, he knew what the outcome would be, hoping that the strong would become stronger and that the weak would be killed.

Imagine if we executed our football players if they failed at performing to optimum standards.

The NFL needs to reconsider this decision, and let Michael Vicks do something other than play football. But alas, the Man has only two skills: using a pigskin, and watching dogs kill each other. Like many of us during this time of recession and unemployment, he needs to seek new employment skills.

Like maybe gardening.

Except that his idea of mowing the lawn is probably tossing gasoline on the grass and lighting it on fire.


I Am Shiba. And I have spoken.

Vick laughed as dogs were injured

By Micah Warren

Nov. 22, 2008

According to a USDA report released on Friday, Michael Vick placed family pet dogs into the ring with his trained pit bulls and laughed as the dogs “caused major injury” to the pets at Bad Newz Kennels.

The report provides new insight into the sadistic and vicious happenings at 1915 Moonlight Rd., where Vick operated the kennel along with his friends Tony Taylor, Purnell Peace and Quanis Phillips.

According to the report, “Vick, Peace and Phillips thought it was funny to watch the pit bull dogs belonging to Bad Newz Kennels injure or kill the other dogs.”

The report states that in mid-April of 2007, Vick, Peace and Phillips hung approximately three dogs who did poorly in a “rolling session,” which lets you know if a dog is ready to be in combat. According to the report, the three men hung the dogs “by placing a nylon cord over a 2 X 4 that was nailed to two trees located next to the big shed. They also drowned approximately three dogs by putting the dogs’ heads in a five gallon bucket of water.”

I would love to know why there is even speculation that this man could receive the pleasure and privilege of playing in the National Football League again. Please, someone tell me, and don’t give me this “everyone gets a second chance” crap.

He funded and ran an illegal dog-fighting operation. I’m no PETA person, but that is reprehensible. He killed dogs that couldn’t fight and derived extreme pleasure in watching dogs get injured and/or killed. This isn’t a “mistake.” This isn’t something you say “sorry” for. You say you are sorry when you bump into someone, not when you exhibit a pattern of behavior like this.

He did all these things, and on top of it, he lied to Roger Goodell’s face about it. Michael Vick should never set foot on an NFL football field again. Period.

Is he sorry? Of course he is. He’s sorry he thoroughly pissed away the high life. He didn’t all of a sudden see why torturing animals is despicable. You don’t really believe that, do you? He’ll say and do all the right things to try to get his life back, but in the end, he’ll always be the same scum bag.

Oh, and in a few days, he’s going to plead guilty to two more charges relating to dog fighting on the state level, but won’t do any more time due to the terms of his plea deal. Explain that one to me.

Micah Warren is a sports writer from New York and the founder of Blast's sports section and the Off the Record sports blog.

The Complete Belle-chan

It has been basically one week since our incident took to its crisis point, and I am pleased to announce that my house mate of three months (and now 4 vet trips) is in good health and appearance.

She has resumed all her previously normal activities, her playful spirit has returned, and she has assumed her normal assertive attitude regarding anything out of the ordinary in the neighborhood. This includes investigating a tree branch in the middle of the road, completing the chipmunk count assessment, and all constitutionals are being completed with success.

The Girl is Back In Action.


I Am Shiba. Now, Let's Get Those Chipmunks!

The Mysterious Case of Bug-Chasing Belle-chan

Belle-chan recently spent the night at the Vet's. She had to sleep in the cat section because the Vet did not want the other dog's bothering her.

A few days ago, The People noticed that Belle-chan was having some diarrhea. Nothing out of the ordinary; Belle-chan grazes and likes her greens so The People merely kept their eyes open, and made sure all was well.

It was not.

Belle-chan started to have accidents in The House. And on Saturday Morning, The Woman woke up That Guy and said, "There is blood in her stool. I am leaving now." I came with them to keep Belle company.

At the Vet's, Belle-chan was feeling so sick that she did not bark at the Rottweiler or the other dogs. She was not wagging her tail.

She was uninterested.

The Vet said she was still in good shape, and sent us home with some medications for her, stating that she would either get better or worse.

She got worse.

More blood and now she was throwing up, The People returned to the vet first thing Sunday morning, and it was decided that she would spend the night there. She was not wagging her tail. She was not barking at other dogs. She just laid on her blanket and did nothing.

The People came home without her.



But I waited for her, thinking that maybe they just left her in the car or something.

Belle came home Monday evening, tired. She slept most of the night on her chair, on her blanket.

This morning, The Woman took both of us out early for our constitutionals. As We were walking, We saw JD, a Shepherd/Lab mix getting his constitutional. He lives several blocks over.

Belle broke out into a howl and barks, pulling on her leash toward JD.

The Woman picked her up and hugged her.

Belle is feeling better.

Today Belle has been sleeping but The Woman has some errands to run and will be taking us with her. Belle has been wagging her tail, eating some food, and resting in her favorite spots. We will have a car ride, and then some dinner of boiled chicken.



I Am Shiba. Welcome Home, My Friend.