ohmidog!

Officials in Jiangmen, China, are banning residents from keeping dogs in the city and are telling owners to begin taking their dogs to drop-off centers, where they will either be adopted by rural residents or euthanized.

The ban will be in effect in the most densely populated sections of Jiangmen, a city with a population of 3.8 million.

China Daily reports that dogs will be prohibited in urban public places and illegally raised dogs will be confiscated or hunted in Jiangmen city starting August 26, according to the city government of South China’s Guangdong province.

“We hope that all citizens will cooperate with us in creating a civilized Jiangmen and send their dogs to outskirts or rural areas,” said an official from the municipal committee of political science and law.

The notice has raised great concerns among citizens. “It’s unfair to kill all dogs without allowing people to get their dog a license. Their doing this shows no respect of life,” a citizen said. Others are calling for a more reasonable regulation on dog-raising.

The Daily Mail, in London, reports that up to 30,000 dogs could be put down in connection with the ban, which was prompted by an outbreak of rabies. Forty-two residents have reportedly died of rabies in the last three years.

Officials issued a declaration, called The Notice on Strengthening the Management of Dogs, which stated that residents must re-home their dogs between August 10 and 25. After the 25th, authorities will start confiscating dogs found in the area included in the ban.

Amid a continuing investigation into allegations of animal cruelty, what was once the entire animal control staff of Chesterfield County, S.C., has been fired.

Sheriff Sam Parker said the firings took place Monday “in an effort to begin a new start at the shelter.”

The animal shelter has been under investigation by the Sheriff’s Office, South Carolina Law Enforcement Division and the state’s Attorney General’s office since allegations came out in March that dogs were being shot as a form of euthanasia, according to WBTV.

The state Attorney General’s Office has not released its findings on the investigation, and says it is still underway.

While it has been alleged that nearly two dozen dogs at the shelter were shot and dumped in a landfill, Sheriff Parker said he believes the initial number was exaggerated, and that his office is investigating the deaths of six. Allegations also surfaced that dog fights were being staged at the shelter, but the sheriff said those allegations appear false.

WBTV filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the Sheriff’s Office to learn the names of the four fired animal control staff members – Brian Burch, Eric Donahue, Lee Carnea and James Calvin Culledge.

The shelter was shut down and its employees placed on administrative leave after the investigation began. Deborah Farhi, a volunteer who works with the shelter, says a tip led her to discover dead shelter dogs in the landfill. She said she dug up two dogs that had been shot in the head.

While deputies were temporarily assigned to operate the shelter, the sheriff prohibited them from driving animal control vehicles because of hundreds of threats towards the animal control officers.

If shooting him 32 times wasn’t enough, police say the killer of a 10-year-old American bulldog also surrounded him with poison-filled hot dogs before leaving him tied at a country club fence to die.

Kane, a 10-year-old American bulldog was found alive in Bucks County, Pa., as we reported yesterday, but had to be euthanized.

On Tuesday, Kane’s owner, Paul Bevan-Xenelis, the former superintendent of the Doylestown Country Club’s golf course, was arraigned on animal-cruelty charges. He’d adopted the dog about five months earlier as a pet for his family.

Doylestown Township Police Chief Stephen White told the Philadelphia Inquirer that he found the case “mind-boggling … I don’t know how that kind of cruelty gets into somebody, but this is not a mistake. When you shoot a dog 30-plus times and then leave the dog to suffer, it’s just nuts.”

Bevan-Xenelis, 39, told police that the dog had become aggressive and had bitten a coworker. He said he had shot the dog only once and thought he had killed it.

His defense attorney, David Knight, said of Bevan-Xenelis, “He’s a little upset … This is all new to him. He’s never had a problem with the law.”

Bevan-Xenelis was fired last week from the country club. He had worked there 10 years and is married with two children, 9 and 6. The police chief said said it appeared that Bevan-Xenelis had been keeping the dog at work with him because he did not want it around his family.

Police were called to the club at 9 a.m. July 24 and found Kane lying beneath a fence behind a maintenance building.

Anne Irwin, executive director of the Bucks County SPCA, said that because of the extent of the dog’s injuries, there was no choice but to euthanize him.

Police confirmed that Kane had bitten a country club employee two days earlier.

Kane had been evaluated as gentle and child-friendly when he was adopted from All4Paws Rescue Inc. of Chester Springs, said director Kristen Schlichtig.

Bevan-Xenelis had been carefully screened before the adoption was approved, she added.  Neighbors vouched for him and reference and background checks were conducted, Schlichtig said.

“This has been a nightmare,” she said. “We did nothing wrong, but I have to live with the fact that I handed this guy the leash. I’m not even sleeping.”

(Photo by Larry King / Philadelphia Inquirer)

Yesterday, in updating you on Ace’s miracle recovery, we acknowledged in a backhanded kind of way all the prayers and well wishes you sent his way.

Allow us to do it in a forehanded way, too: Thank you.

Ace remains, from all appearances, over whatever it was that seemed to make him lose control of half of his 130-pound body on Monday.

He’s raring to go, darting all over the place when I take him outside, grabbing my hand in his mouth to pull me along for what he’d like to be a long walk. He seems to have totally forgotten the condition he was in two days ago. I, on the other hand, have not, and so, like an over-protective parent, offer up the kind of buzzkill only humans can provide.

“Let’s wait one more day. Slow down. Be careful. Stop frolicking, dammit.”

It’s the main difference between dogs and people. He being a dog, doesn’t let his past, even recent-as-yesterday past, bring him down. He doesn’t let fears of the future dictate his behavior, or maybe he knows better than me that the possibility of being hobbled tomorrow is all the more reason to run your ass off today.

I don’t know if your responses made Ace better, but they absolutely served that purpose for me. (I have more friends than I thought — or at least he does — and lots of them are strangers.)

Through comments left on ohmidog! and Travels with Ace, through personal emails and phone calls, we heard from several dozen people, including a few of  those we encountered during the past year as we criss-crossed America.

Our intent in Travels with Ace was not to bog you down with reports of our physical ailments, not to bemoan the obstacles we were confronted with, not to get all cantankerous about the small stuff life throws our way.

It was more the opposite — to, like the species it honors, seek out good times, sniff around, explore, and, assuming their tails were wagging, spontaneously connect with America’s dogs and humans.

Just as we didn’t ignore the country’s warts, we shared our personal bad moments, too – not to evoke sympathy, not to tug at heartstrings, but to reflect reality.  The same holds true of our financial condition. Being unemployed was one of things that sparked the trip; and traveling, with the dog, on a shoestring, was an exercise in frugality mandated by the times and my own personal economic situation.

I, like a lot of Americans, and like America, am having trouble paying my bills.

Embarassing as that may be, I’ve admitted it — far more often than my mother would like me to — and I acknowledged again during Ace’s trauma that, short of draining what little remains in the old 401 K and pulling off a heist of some sort, I’m likely not in a position to scrounge up what any surgery he needed would probably cost.

One of the people we heard from yesterday was a woman who offered to pay for any veterinary care Ace needed. We declined her kind offer, given Ace’s recovery. I wrote her back, thanking her, telling her Ace seemed to be doing fine now, and, for some reason, baring my soul. (Apparently, much like a stripper, I will bare my soul for tips, or even the offer of them.) I explained to her how, in selfish pursuit of doing what I want to do, I’ve decided to scrape by without a job, and in the process have become an insufficient provider.

Putting personal dreams above salary and health insurance may be noble, or it may just be stupid. In any event it’s a choice that, for me, leads to some feelings of guilt during times like this week — times that seem to say, “Get a job, doofus.”

I did suggest she buy my book, which would add several cents to my portfolio.

She wrote back: “That’s wonderful news about Ace, John! I bought your book long ago, it’s how I discovered your blog and “met” Ace. It’s a fascinating book, btw, you’re a compelling writer. I understand your reservations about the money – been there, done that, so to speak.  Ace is your family though, and by virtue of your blog, he’s my friend, so I hope it will never be necessary but if it should become necessary, I hope you would let his friends help. And pursuing your dreams is a great way to spend a life. Give Ace a good belly rub for me!”

The belly rub has been given, her compliments have been read and re-read (they serve as a belly rub to me), and her email address has been put in a file marked guardian angels, in the second drawer of the file cabinet on the right. (I write that here in case I forget, should I ever need to find it.)

Wrote another total stranger, upon reading of Ace’s improvement, “ …Amen And Pass The Kibble that Ace is doing well this morning. Having read ohmidog! for the past few years, you and Ace are a couple o’ ramblers that I’ve come to care about in that funny internet way. You just about killed me when you described losing your composure when he leaned on you. I know, I know! I was with you, in that moment. I was with you yesterday in the midst of your nerve-wracking vet visit with an IV bag tied to your roof rack. That would be why you’re an award-winning journalist. Big hugs to both of you, and if you’re ever in the upstate NY area, give a holler on-blog beforehand. We would love to meet “our” sweet Ace. Oh, and you, too, of course. You know how it is.”

More belly rubs for me, but, more than that, it was another note that reinforced what we learned during our travels: However down America might be right now, its people, and its dogs, are a resilient bunch; and people still care about people, especially dog people.

Having invited any theories readers might have, I also heard from several people offering guesses on what it might have been that knocked Ace’s legs out from under him

“My vote still goes with ‘ate something that disagreed with him.’ I woke up absolutely dreading this day for a number of reasons. I checked here before I even looked at the news. Now I’m smiling. You guys stay cool, and we’ll keep rolling out those prayers and good thoughts.”

That one was from Anne, one of several from my friend, technical consultant on internetty issues and web space provider in Baltimore, who, though she lost her husband at the end of last month, though both she and her beagle are still working through the grieving process, took the time to pass on her best wishes.

Some thought it might be heat related, and another reader suspected tick paralysis.

“I’m so glad ACE seems to have had a spontaneous recovery! We had a situation eerily similar to what you described with a newfie mix of ours several years ago. Our vet diagnosed tick paralysis (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tick_paralysis), which he had seen kill several dogs over the years. I had never heard of it, despite living in a state where Lyme and such are common. I thought I’d mention it since our vet said there are a lot of vets who aren’t familiar with it due to its rarity. Warm hugs to Ace!”

And, after our initial report on Ace’s affliction, there were many like this — both from people I know and people I’ve never met:

“I’m crying, and my own dogs are wondering why. Much love and all of our support to both Ace and you. Nothing scarier, for me at least, than a sick pup. Please keep us updated. You two are FAMILY.”

The pesky part of me wanted to write back and ask if my room is ready and what we were having for dinner tonight. Here’s the thing — some of my friends, possibly even some of those stranger friends I’ve never even met, would say come on over. However cash poor America is, it’s rich that way.

We send thanks, too, to Dr. Raymond Morrison, Ace’s vet at Ard-Vista Animal Hospital, here in Winston-Salem, who went beyond the call of duty — and didn’t charge for it — when I ran back into his office after our visit to inform him Ace was copiously vomiting in the back of my car. He strung an IV bag to my roof rack and had a technician adminster about 20 minutes worth of a subcutaneous drip that seemed to immediately improve both Ace’s panting and his legs.

Once he was back home and out of the car, the ailment seemed to disappear as quickly, and mysteriously, as it had arrived.

That we’re living a somewhat insulated life here — partly by choice, in pursuit of another  dream, which is to turn our travels into a book — made all the comments and notes, from old friends and new ones alike, worth even more.

What restored Ace’s legs back to full power may be a mystery, but it’s no mystery what  reconfirmed my faith in humanity.

It was you.

(Graphic: Pawprint thank you card available at Etsy.com)

A private company hired to round up stray dogs in Fayetteville, N.C., captured six over the weekend, using baited traps and tranquilizer darts.

A pair of two-man teams began working 12-hour shifts Friday, Cumberland County animal control Director John Lauby told the Board of commissioners Monday.

They’ll continue to do so for the next 30 days in a bid to eliminate the packs of dozens of dogs — up to 150 by some estimates — that they say have “terrorized” residents and pets, and sparked fears of a rabies outbreak, the Fayetteville Observer reported.

Fayetteville opted against hiring the Texas outfit that originally offered to take care of the problem — the Dangerous Animal Task Force.

According to a Fayetteville Observer article last week, City Manager Dale Iman said that company was “not a registered entity,” and that it didn’t ”have a lot of experience to go by.”

Instead, the city contracted with a local company called Mims Wildlife Control. The company is not authorized to kill dogs during capture attempts; if that became necessary, county animal control officials would handle it.

Lauby has repeatedly described the dogs as a threat, and says they create a risk for a rabies epidemic. “Feral dogs are not like pets that you and I know,” he said. “They are like wild lions and tigers; they are very dangerous.” But he does acknowledge that some dogs who get caught up in the sweep could be recent pets and turn out to be adoptable. He said all the dogs will be assessed before they are euthanized. All dogs brought to the shelter are kept for three days by law.

Fayetteville doesn’t have an animal control department, and is splitting the cost of the round-up with Cumberland County.

When Commissioner Jeannette Council asked Lauby if the animals could be adopted, once caught, he said it’s possible, but most would be too wild.

“We’re going to give that dog a chance,” he said, “but no dog is going to be adopted from our shelter that’s going to be a danger or a potential danger to our citizens. I won’t let that happen.”

While rounding up an euthanizing Fayetteville’s feral and stray dogs doesn’t seem to have become a hugely controversial issue, we did find one Facebook page devoted it.

As far as our view of all this, in case our earlier pieces didn’t make it clear, we think stray dogs — even “feral” dogs — deserve a complete evaluation by professionals; that some of them, at least, should have a shot at being rehabilitated and becoming pets again; that three days may not be enough time to make that decision; and that, with the possibility of 150 dogs being hastily executed in Fayetteville, some animal welfare group, however unwelcome they might be, should be stepping in.

I don’t know which one of your prayers or well wishes did the trick, or if it was the power of them combined, or if it was the puking, or if perhaps it was the nap (I think they can cure about everything), but six hours after he could barely walk, Ace was unexplainedly up and running.

“Stop running,” I told him.

But given I was smiling, tearing up and having difficulty working up the stern tone sometimes required for him to obey, he apparently didn’t feel the need to pay attention. Either that, or he was as happy as I was.

Six hours after he could barely stand up, he was ready to romp.

What befell him yesterday morning is a mystery, and your conjecture is welcome, because I’d like to figure it out.

You’ll recall, maybe, that he had some disc problems a few months back. Those, treated with steroid pills, vanished after the second round of drugs. While that ailment didn’t affect his ability to walk, it was clearly painful and led him to yelp out, whereas yesterday he didn’t seem to be in any pain at all.

After sleeping in yesterday — til almost 11 a.m. — he got up to find he couldn’t get up. It seemed to be just one front leg affected at first, but then I noticed his rear leg on the same side was dragging, splaying out, and clearly not following his brain’s command.

What transpired at the vet was pretty routine, until we got back in the car and he began vomiting, in no small amounts.

The vet, who had recommended he see a dog neurologist, came out to the car, tied an IV bag to my roof rack and administered what’s called a subcutaneous drip to restore his fluids.

During it, I noticed some slight signs of improvement. Ace sat up, and seemed to be putting weight on the bad side. Once back home he seemed even better, though the right front paw still seemed to have a mind of its own, flopping down on the ground in an exxagerated motion.

After the nap, he insisted on going outside, where he proceeded to walk 99 percent normally, run 99 percent normally and pester me to play 100 percent normally.

I calmed him down, insisting that he chill, and told him we would withhold any celebrations until tomorrow — after seeing whether he gets up with the same problems or not.

It was a scary day, and I can’t tell you how many roads my mind went down. Was it going to be something as serious as it appeared, could I afford the tests to have it diagnosed, much less to have it treated? Would it prove fatal? How badly would I fall apart if so, and could I ever be put back together again?

Sitting in the exam room, waiting for the vet, I reminded myself every minute or so that it wasn’t about me. I reminded myself that I’m a cool-headed sort. But inside, I had turned drama queen.

Ace has given me some scares before during our travels, with his herniated disc, when he disappeared through a swimming pool cover, when he jumped over the fence at Niagara Falls. This one was by far the worst, because there was no explanation for it, no precipitating event — just a sudden loss of limb control.

It’s nothing to take lightly, and even if he seems 100 percent today, I know he needs to be checked out by a specialist. Some breathing room to do that would be nice, though.

I am of that percentage of society that places their dog’s health above their own. Lacking health insurance — for me or him — I am also of the ignore it and maybe it will just go away school.

Yesterday was so frightening I made an exception.

While his problem may not truly be gone, I’m glad it’s gone for now. Borrowed time? We’ll take it.

On our way to the car, for the drive to the vet, Ace was barely able to walk, even with me lifting up on his harness. He leaned his weak side into me for support. He’s normally a leaner, but not when he walks. That it is when I first lost it — it being composure.

That simple trusting act, on his part, somehow pushed me over the edge — partly because he did it without thinking twice, partly, truth be told, because of the realization that I lean on him much more than he leans on me.

Moose, the bull mastiff who was mistakenly put up for adoption after biting a child at the Kendall County animal control shelter in Illinois, was euthanized yesterday morning.

Moose bit a 6-year-old boy at the county animal shelter in Yorkville on July 3, and the head of Kendall County animal control told officials the dog was euthanized after that incident.

Last week, though, it was revealed that the shelter accidentally euthanized the wrong bull mastiff, and that Moose was adopted by a couple in nearby LaSalle County. When officials found out Friday that Moose was still alive, the animal control administrator was put on leave, and officials asked the family to return the dog.

Moose was returned and euthanized yesterday, the Chicago Tribune reported.

Moose, who had bitten two people before biting the boy, had bitten another person since he was adopted — a neighbor of the couple that adopted him.

After initially telling officials and reporters the dog had been euthanized, the director of animal control, Christine Johnson, admitted Friday at a special meeting of the Kendall County Board’s animal control committee that he had not been.

Johnson was placed on administrative leave after the meeting, and her future employment is scheduled to be discussed today.

A golf course superintendent in Bucks County, Pa., has been charged with shooting his American bulldog 32 times behind a building at the Doylestown Country Club.

Paul Bevan-Xenelis, 39, of Quakertown, could spend up to five years in jail and pay as much as $10,000 in fines if convicted of charges of cruelty to animals and owning an unlicensed dog, Phillyburbs.com reported.

“To shoot a dog that many times and leave it, to me, that’s just shocking,” said Stephen White, Doylestown Township police chief. “It’s unspeakable cruelty.”

Doylestown Country Club president Joseph Paul said in a statement last week that club leaders were “extremely disturbed” by Bevan-Xenelis’ alleged actions, and that he has been fired.

The dog, named Kane, was found tied to a fence near the maintenance shed at the country club on July 24. The dog, about 10 years old, was alive, but “in distress” when police arrived.

Police said Bevan-Xenelis tied the dog to the fence the night of July 23 after it bit a co-worker. The next day, he returned to the country club and shot the dog with a pellet gun, police said.

The dog was taken to the Bucks County SPCA, where he was euthanized, according to Anne Irwin, the agency’s director.

Bevan-Xenelis allegedly told police he shot the dog only once with a .22-caliber pellet gun, but the SPCA removed eight, .22-caliber pellets from Kane’s body.

Police said an SPCA examination of Kane’s remains showed the dog had been shot no fewer than 32 times.

Bevan-Xenelis had Kane for six months and told police he adopted the dog from a rescue in the Philadelphia area. He said he kept the dog at work because he didn’t feel safe keeping him at home.

I was typing away at the computer when Ace finally decided to get up this morning.

That’s the general routine. He sleeps in while I, an early riser, work. Around 9, or 10, or sometimes not until 11, he finally stretches and gets off the futon.

This morning, though, he found that hard to do. Once on the floor, one of his front paws didn’t seem to work. He seemed to have no control over it. When he got off the carpet and onto the wooden floor, it was even worse. 

I let him outside and he walked spastically. Maybe his leg is just asleep, I told myself, even as a sick feeling started rising in my stomach.

I noticed that in addition to his right front leg not seeming to cooperate with him, the right rear leg wasn’t either. He managed to go a few steps and pee, then kept veering to one side, falling down and struggling to get up on his way back. 

I called his local vet, and though they were booked solid they said to bring him in. On the way to the car he got worse. He leaned his left side on me as he walked, and his right paw dragged, his claws scraping rhythmically on the concrete. 

Even with his ramp, it was hard to get him in, but he managed, thankfully, because I’m not sure I can lift 130 pounds now, or for that matter, if I ever could. 

At the vet he stumbled and fell some more as we worked our way to the door. He didn’t seem to be in any pain – unlike when he had what was diagnosed as a herniated disc a few months ago. He seemed to have completely recovered from that. 

He managed to get up the three stairs into the vet’s office. When I checked in, he didn’t jump up and put his front paws on the counter like he always does. He did perk up when, as we were walking into the exam room, a puppy was walking out. He stopped to sniff and say hello, his tail wagging wildly. 

Inside the exam room, as we waited, he was drooling more than he has ever drooled, and sliding all over the floor as he tried to sit and then lay down. 

They checked his legs, his ears, his heart, his eyes. I was wondering if he had a stroke, but he seemed responsive, just totally lacking coordination on one side. They asked if he’d eaten anything unusual; I assured them he hadn’t. They asked if he’d had any ticks recently. No, I answered. They took some blood for testing, and recommended a neurologist, but upon calling to make us an appointment they learned the only one in town was out of town – until Aug. 10.

They suggested one in Charlotte, 100 miles away. 

We agreed to wait until the blood work up was done, in case Ace made another miracle recovery, as he did from his herniated disc.

“This doesn’t look to be the sort of thing where he’ll just wake up from a nice nap and he’ll be over it, does it?” I asked.

“It could be,” the vet said. “You never know.”

I managed to get Ace back in the car, but just barely as he kept sliding off the side of the ramp, his legs seeming to be working even less well by then.

In the car, I gave him some water, and wondered if we should just head straight to Charlotte, before getting him in and out of the car got to the point where it would require a forklift.

As I pondered, he puked.

Up until then, he hadn’t seemed to be in any discomfort, just stressed out by his limbs not functioning and the veterinarian’s probing.

I ran back inside and found the vet. “Now he’s started throwing up,” I said. 

It was yellow, with hunks of what appeared to be chicken – even though I thought the canned food I’d added to his dry food the night before was beef.

The vet came out to the car to look at him again, told me to turn the air conditioning on, and had a technician bring out an IV bag to replenish his fluids with an subcutaneous drip.

During the drip, he got up from his laying down position, and sat, seeming to be put more weight on the malfunctioning front paw than he had been. 

By the time we were home, he had little trouble getting up, and little trouble walking down the ramp. His right front paw, though, still seemed to flutter about wildly as he stepped.

In the house, I noticed a large swelling on his back, near where the needle had been — something like a camel hump, but smaller. When the vet called to tell me Ace’s bloodwork was all normal, I asked about the hump. He told me that was routine after a subcutaneous drip.

That’s where things stand now, and I have felt sick all morning, and frightened.

I’m frightened by what may be wrong with him, and frightened that I won’t have enough money, or credit, to pay for what the specialists advise. That is an awful feeling.

The camel is taking a nap now. I am going to join him.

The plan for now is that, when we wake up, it will all be better.

It’s not something the typical dog owners does, but with enough sheddings and some hard work you can make a shawl out of your shiba inu, a cowl out of your collie, a scarf out of your Schipperke, or even an afghan out of your Afghan.

Denise Rothwell of Great Falls, Montana, has turned the fur from her two Great Pyrenees — Bella and Windsor — into scarves and throw blankets, with a litle help from her mother.

Shirley Rothwell spins Bella and Windsor’s hair into yarn, and her daughter does the knitting. Denise got the idea from a book, and asked her mother to make the yarn.

“The fur is white and beautiful. Great Pyrenees are double coated, with a long top layer and a short downy under layer. It’s really quite pretty. I first made her a scarf and I am working on an afghan,” Shirley told the Great Falls Tribune.

Shirley, with Bella and Windsor at her side, demonstrated how to spin shed dog hair into yarn over the weekend at the Montana State Fair.

Denise combs her dogs on a regular basis and collects the hair in plastic bags. She turns it over to her mother, who washes it with Dawn dishwashing soap and places it in a lingerie bag to soak in 140 degree water.

Dawn, Shirley said, takes out that wet dog smell.

Shirley has started an afghan made up of the coats of all six of her Great Pyrenees her daughter has owned. Denise sees it as a way to preserve her memories of them.

“Some people keep ashes or other mementos for their pets, and this is my memento,” Denise said.

(Photo: Larry Beckner / Great Falls Tribune)