ohmidog!

A New Hampshire man who went online to find a new dog found his old one instead.

Jamie Carpentier decided after his boxer passed away to start looking for another dog. He got on his computer and started reading descriptions of adoptable dogs listed on the Humane Society of Greater Nashua website.

There, in the mix, was one that reminded him of his old basset hound, Ginger.

This one was 13, which, once he did the math, he realized was how old Ginger would be by now. This one was also named Ginger.

“It can’t be her,” he said to himself. “It’s been so long.”

Carpentier hadn’t seen Ginger in 10 years, not since his ex-wife got the dog in the divorce. What he didn’t know was that she gave the dog up up a short time later, and Ginger was adopted, spending the next ten years with another owner. When that owner became unable to care for her, Ginger was surrendered back to the shelter again.

Carpentier, after looking over the description, emailed the shelter, asking for photos of the dog. Once he saw them, he knew the shelter’s Ginger was his old Ginger.

On Martin Luther King Jr. Day he went to the shelter to see her, the Nashua Telegraph reported.

“She heard my voice. I walked up to her and she kind of gave me a couple of licks or kisses. And I was like, ‘She knows who I am, she remembers my voice,’” Carpentier said.

“She was stuck to me like glue … I have her now, and she has a place to live and stay,” he said. “The end. It’s awesome.”

Minkyu Lee’s directorial debut, “Adam and the Dog,” is one man’s visually stunning take on how man and dog first bonded.

It won the 2012 Annie Award for Best Animated Short Subject. It’s one of five Academy Award nominees for Best Animated Short Film, and a strong contender, according to some reports.

Betsey Sharkey, of the Los Angeles Times, called it a “painterly” film that “puts you in a musing museum state of mind. Lee captures the unfettered joy of discovery and how that feeling changes and expands when you’re no longer alone.”

The Washington Post called it a “visually masterful … film that perhaps should be considered the front-runner for an Oscar later this month …”

Lee worked on  Disney’s “The Princess and the Frog” and ”Wreck-It Ralph,” but this is his first own film. The 27-year-old director put up $25,000 and spent two years creating the hand-animated 15-minute film.

Sergeant Rex, a bomb-sniffing dog who finally returned from duty in Iraq earlier this year and was reunited with his former handler, died Saturday at the age of 11.

Rex was assigned to Cpl. Megan Leavey in 2006 when, on a patrol in Iraq, the dog alerted his handler of a nearby bomb. Both tried to run away, but it detonated, injuring them both.

Leavey left the Marine Corps in Dec. 2007, but Sergeant Rex continued to serve. She tried to adopt the dog, but was unable to for years because he remained on duty after recovering from his injuries.

This year, when Rex was retired due to facial paralysis, Leavey renewed her efforts, receiving support form U.S. Senator Charles Schumer and an online petition that received more than 20,000 signatures. In March, Leavey received permission to adopt him. They were reunited in April.

Leavey, who lives in New York, announced Rex’s death last week on her Facebook page:

“Unfortunately today at 10:56 a.m. Rex passed away. I was faced with the decision that no pet owner wants to hear, but I know I made the right choice. This is all very sudden and thankfully he did not suffer for long, this all came about late last night.

“I am so grateful for the last eight months I got to spend with my partner and my best friend. Rex got to swim in a pool and play with my other dogs. He got to roam the yard and bark at deer, play with as many toys as he wanted all day everyday, sleep in a cozy bed next to me every night, chase and eventually make friends with my two cats, enjoy and play in his first snowfall … and so much other great stuff that he would have never had the chance to do if he was never retired.

“He knew I was with him the whole time and I laid next to him and held him and spoke to him and he was at peace in the end. He is now my guardian angel … even though he already was. So thank you to everyone who supported me and made it possible for me to spend those precious 8 months with my best friend.

“He was one hell of a dog, one tough ass Marine, and one very special soul. He will no doubt be greatly missed and never forgotten.”

A book about Rex came out this year, entitled “Sergeant Rex: The Unbreakable Bond Between a Marine and His Military Working Dog.” It was written by Mike Dowling, another one of Sergeant Rex’s handlers.

Rex searched more than 6,220 vehicles while stationed in Iraq, the Marine Corps says.

The publishers of the new book noted his passing in a Facebook post this week:

“Rest in peace Rex and thank you for your service and sacrifice. Once a Marine, Always a Marine … Semper Fi,” they wrote.

 (Photo of Rex and Leavey from tribute posted at Findagrave.com)

Closer, the trashy magazine that brought you Kate Middleton’s breasts, is making news again — this time with a story about a 44-year-old California woman who breastfeeds her pug.

The Oct. 20th U.K. edition of Closer features an interview with Terri Graham, a mother of two human children.

Breastfeeding her pug Spider, she says, makes her feel like a better mom.

“Having Spider suckle on my boob means I finally feel complete and a better mother,” said Graham, who was unable to breastfeed her children for reasons unexplained.

Graham said she has been breastfeeding Spider for two years — ever since the dog licked a bottle of breast milk she had pumped for her newborn son. Apparently, Spider liked it so much, she decided to let him start drinking directly from the source.

There’s definitely a boundary line between what’s acceptable and what’s not when it comes to how close we get to our dogs, and how humanly we treate them — and we meant humanly there, not humanely. I don’t assume to be the one who defines that line, but, in my humble view, this crosses it.

Even though we “ooh” and “aww” when we see a female dog take on the feeding responsibilities to newborn animals of other species, most of us will probably “euuwwww” at this example.

The significant difference between those cases and this, of course, is that a nine-year-old pug doesn’t require breast milk to grow, and the surrogate mama dogs in those cases don’t generally seek headlines.

This, in my view, is fairly outrageous, which accounts for the story’s popularity. We seem to have an appetite for the outrageous, and no shortage of media happy to serve it up and let us suckle. A photo of the article about Graham was posted to a Reddit forum devoted to strange news, and it quickly rose to the site’s front page.  It was subsequently regurgitated by The Huffington Post, and given good play by Doghatersunite.com, a website that says it serves “people who hate dog-loving idiots and their Darwin-defying fleabags.”

One has to wonder how the original publication got onto this story:  A phoned-in tip? Peering through a window? Logging into breastfeedingyourdog.com? (Just kidding, there’s no such website.) Or did the subject of the story, sensing the magazine’s zeal for boob coverage, volunteer the information?

All said, while the case of the breastfeeding pug raises some interesting questions, one should probably consider the source — not just tabloid readers, but  especially Spider — and perhaps seek their nourishment elsewhere.

A former bomb-sniffing dog in Iraq has been reunited with his one-time handler.

The reunion took place at Lackland Air Force base in Texas last week, and the eight-year-old dog is now home with Logan Black.

Black, 34, launched a campaign on Facebook to persuade the Air Force to retire Diego and let him adopt him, KCTV in Kansas City reports. The retired soldier says Diego saved his life, several times, in Iraq.

“This feels fantastic,” Black said. “I’ve been waiting for those for a really long time.”

Black trained Diego and they served on nearly 40 missions in Iraq in 2006, searching for hidden weapons and homemade bombs.

Five years after they sent separate ways, Black said he still missed the dog. He began a search for Diego and learned that he was working at Lackland AFB, helping train other bomb-sniffing dogs.

“No doubt Diego would have found a home somewhere, but a home with me is different than with a totally new stranger,” Black said.

(Photo: KCTV)

Among those watching Nicola Adams win a gold medal for the UK in boxing was her Doberman.

The Leeds boxer won her flyweight event on Thursday, becoming the first woman to ever win a gold in the new Olympic sport, SFGate reports.

Her dog, Dexter, currently lodged at a boarding kennel called Mypetstop, watched on a TV installed in his room at Adams’ request, according to the Morley Observer.

Sheli Dobbie, manager at Mypetstop, said requesting a television for one’s dog isn’t all that uncommon anymore. “However, this will certainly be a first where the dog can watch their owner – especially in the Olympics – so I’m sure Dexter will be excited.”

A thousand words may be the generally accepted exchange rate for a photo, but here’s one that’s worth 2.2 million views, 230,000 likes, 110,000 shares and also just may help an old dog pay his medical bills.

Professional photographer Hannah Stonehouse Hudson took the photo last week. It’s of a friend of her’s named John, and his arthritic 19-year-old dog, Schoep, floating in Lake Superior.

John, who rescued Schoep as a puppy, says that the water is therapeutic for his achy dog.

“He is the kind of person who wants his animals to be comfortable. I wanted to capture their relationship. I told John, ‘I really need to get photos of you and your dog,’” Hannah explains on her Facebook page. “Last Tuesday, we met at the beach for the photo. While John swam with the dog, I got on the dock so I could be at eye level. It took five minutes.”

The result is a shot that captures the serenity dogs bring us, and maybe vice versa.

“My specialty is documenting relationships, whether it’s a wedding or a man and his dog,” the Bayfield, Wis., photographer is quoted as saying in a Pioneer Press article.

On Facebook, the photo has drawn more than 25,000 comments.

“In this photo, people have said they see everything from pure love to hope for the world,” she said. “They see peace, kindness, the relationship between man and dog. Two women, both whose husbands died from cancer, said they never thought they’d see love again, but this photo showed them love.”

“I know this is not about me — it’s about a guy who loves his dog — but I am in complete awe that my photo has had such an impact.”

Prints can be purchased from the photographer, and part of the proceeds will go toward vet bills for Schoep.

(Photo by Hannah Stonehouse Hudson)

If Dogs Could Play Scrabble

I’m glad that my roommate can’t babble

And that he doesn’t drink all my Snapple

But wouldn’t it be neat

Wouldn’t life be complete

If somehow he’d learn to play Scrabble?

 ——————-

DOGgerel is a new feature on ohmidog!, in which, from time to time, we will wax poetic, or at least attempt to, on the subject of dogs.

Clicking on the graphic to the left will take you to a page where you can find all of them, once we accumulate a few.

The love affair continues between Ace and the cat next door.

It started at my neighbor’s front window, where her new cat, Tom, would lay in the sunshine when she wasn’t at home. Tom was tiny then, just a few weeks old. And there seemed to be nothing Ace — and Tom — liked better than looking at each other through that window.

After three months of meeting at the window, and later playing peekaboo at windows of the front door, they eventually met in person, spending about  an hour running around my apartment and playing. A few times, they’ve frolicked outside. Ace chases him down.

Tom swats at Ace’s face, and then they start all over again. Sometimes Tom hides under the car, darts out for a quick attack, then retreats back under the car. Ace then tries to wiggle under, only to find he’s too big.

Usually, when I let Ace outside, the first thing he does is go next door — in hopes of spotting Tom.

Between actual, in person visits, that’s what they do – gaze at each other through the front window — Tom sometimes swatting at it with his paw as Ace jumps up, putting his paws on the ledge and emitting a whine or two.

Last week they realized that they could see each other on the backside of the apartments as well.

Tom started out sitting in the sill of the window above my neighbor’s sink. Ace would sit at the bottom of the stairs to the back door and look up, or climb to the top and crane his neck for a closer view.

On Friday, Tom decided to try and get a little closer too. Walking to the end of the counter, he stretched and managed to stick his face through the mini blinds on the back door.

Apparently that wasn’t good enough so, tiptoeing across what had to be, at most, a quarter-inch wide piece of door molding, he managed to get positioned between the window and the blinds. The blinds, I guess, were what held him in place as he walked back and forth, to Ace’s pleasure.

They spent about an hour visiting that way, with Ace every once in a while jumping up and placing his paws on the screen door, which, as you can imagine, isn’t very good for screens.

While Ace managed to add to the tear in my neighbor’s screen, Tom did a number on the mini blinds, which resembled spaghetti by the time the visit concluded.

Figuring I was responsible for at least half the damage, I grabbed some tools and went over Saturday morning while the neighbor was gone to fix the screen.

Fortunately it wasn’t torn, just pulled out from underneath the molding holding it in place. As I removed the molding, Tom showed up again, intent on watching the process.

That left the mini blinds even more haywire. Once the screen was repaired, Ace, after a warning that there could be no more jumping up on the screen, climbed up the stairs to visit Tom again.

He stayed for half an hour or so, until another neighbor pulled up into the driveway, at which time he tore himself away to visit her. Tom spent a couple more minutes wedged between the blinds and window, waiting for Ace to come back, looking a little forlorn.

As I mentioned the last time I wrote about this relationship, I think the door has a lot to do with how close they’ve grown. First, it allowed them to comfortably get used to each other without feeling threatened. Then, I think, it served to make them want to be together even more. The barrier between them only fueled their desire –  kind of like a parent who forbids you from seeing that boy;  or you being in New York while she’s in California.

Closed doors, like absences, can make hearts grow fonder.

There’s a new pug in the neighborhood.

This handsome boy is Brutus, estimated to be 10 years old, though he looks and acts much younger.

He was delivered Saturday by Mid Atlantic Pug Rescue to our friend Martha, who lives around the corner, and whose previous pug was once featured on these pages

Butch was one of the first dogs Ace met when we moved to Winston-Salem. He was 15 years old, blind, deaf and possibly had suffered a stroke, which would explain his tendency to veer in one direction. He died in November.

Butch

Martha said then she was going to get another dog soon, and that it would definitely be another pug.

But four months passed by.

For whatever reason — between the onset of winter, the loss of Butch, and some health problems of her own — we didn’t see Martha outside much after that.

Until a couple of weeks ago, when we started seeing her walking around the block again, without a dog.

Last week, she stopped at my door to give me the news. Her back problems were much better, and she’d applied to adopt a pug living in a Mid Atlantic Pug Rescue foster home in another part of the state.

A volunteer was scheduled to visit her for a home inspection, and Martha asked if I would be one of her references, which the organization also requires.

I was more than happy to do that, having seen not only the love she showed to Butch, but that she had that special kind of patience that seems to run through the veins of those who take in old and disabled dogs.

Brutus arrived Saturday, and though Martha had been told his hearing and eyesight may be fading, he seemed in possession of both.

She outfitted him in a purple leash and harness she had bought, and took him on a couple of spins through the neighborhood Saturday.

That night, he didn’t hesitate to sleep on her bed.

On Sunday, they took five walks — and real walks, as opposed to a the few minutes in the front yard that sufficed for Butch towards the end.

Martha says she has mistakenly called Brutus Butch a few times, just as she once called Butch by the same name of her pug before him, whose name also started with a “B.”

But Brutus was quick to leave his mark on the neighborhood — both in the way dogs normally do that, and through his own distinct personality.

Yesterday, they were going to the vet for a check-up.

I haven’t talked to Martha since then, but I suspect the vet diagnosed what I did — a new twinkle in both of their eyes.