ohmidog!

As if having a broken pelvis, fractured jaw and being shot with a BB gun weren’t enough, a stray dog in Memphis somehow managed to get her head embarassingly and dangerously stuck in a plastic jug.

Spotted earlier this month in a wooded area off Interstate 41, with her head encased in the clear plastic jug, the pit bull mix was photographed by Beth Gresham, who posted the photo on her Facebook page.

“We have to get her,” Gresham told her animal-loving friends. “She’s doesn’t have a whole lot of time with that over her head.” About 20 people joined in searching for the dog.

The next day the dog was caught by Chester Burns, according to news reports.

“I seen him coming down pathway with the jug on his head,” said Burns.

Burns said he cornered the dog against a fence with his Jeep. He used wire cutters to cut the plastic jug and remove it from the dog’s head. The dog has been named Miracle.

Jesse Sidle, an animal hospital technician, said that Miracle ate heartily once the jug was removed — consuming dog food, cat food and a rotisserie chicken. She was 27.7 pounds and she should weight around 45, said Sidle.

X-rays showed the dog had a broken pelvis and fractured jaw, that she may have been hit by a car and she carried pellets from having been hit by BB gun fire.

So far, Miracle, who is being fostered by Sidle, has gained five pounds.

Sidle is bringing the dog to work with her at the clinic every day.

Donations to her care can be made to The Memphis Humane Society at 935 Farm Road Memphis, TN 38134, or online at www.memphishumane.org.

Here’s a CNN report on the dog.

A Jack Russell terrier headed for Maine got lost in New Jersey, spent 10 days wandering in the woods, was found and returned to North Carolina, and is now destined to go back to New Jersey.

It’s a roundabout route to a forever home, but, for five-year-old Piper, it’s a far better fate than that awaiting her had she remained in the North Carolina shelter she was initially pulled from as her euthanasia date approached.

Early in May, Joy Frannicola of Smithfield, N.C. , the leader of a rescue group called Ruf Creek Ranch, arranged to have Pilots N Paws take Piper and several other dogs to a no-kill shelter in Maine.

The pilots — among those donate their time to fly dogs facing euthanasia to friendlier locations — made a stop in New Jersey and were taking Piper for a walk when she got frightened by the noise from a nearby drag strip and, with her leash still attached, ran off, the Raleigh News and Observer reported.

She escaped through a hole in the airport’s fence and ran into the woods. Pilots and local residents searched, and they were joined by volunteers from A New Leash on Life, another North Carolina rescue group involved in transporting Piper and the other dogs to a place they might more likely be adopted.

After 10 days, a woman named Cyndi Albujar who lives near the woods spotted Piper while walking her own dog. She placed cat food in a trap. Piper went for it.

A few days later, Piper was on a plane returning to A New Leash on Life, based in Wake Forest, N.C.

But she hasn’t been listed for adoption.

That’s because Albujar, who took a liking to Piper, wants her back.

So, one day soon, Piper will be flying back to New Jersey again — this time for good.

(Photo:  Cyndi Albujar (left), with Danella Anderson of A New Leash on Life, volunteer pilot Terry Friedman and Piper; courtesy of Ruf Creek Ranch)

Acquaintances held a memorial service this week for a homeless woman and her dog, both found dead in a wooded area behind a Vallejo, Calif., car dealership on Sunday.

Johanna Dilag and her dog Muggles were given a quiet send-off Tuesday, the Vallejo Times-Herald reports.

“We held a little memorial for her,” said Maria Guevara, founder of Vallejo Together, who knew Dilag and her dog through a program that feeds the homeless. “We said a prayer and read The Rainbow Bridge — a poem about deceased pets reuniting with their owners — for the dog, and we had a moment of silence for her as a soul living on the planet; someone we cared for.”

The 37-year-old woman and her dog, an orange and white mixed breed, had not been seen for several days before their bodies were found.

Vallejo Police Department spokesman Sgt. Jeff Bassett said the deaths remain under investigation, though there were no signs of foul play or suicide at the scene.

Other homeless people in the area said Dilag was fearful and kept to herself, constructing a fort-like structure in the woods out of leaves, sticks and old tents.

Wagner said Dilag was found laying under a blue tarp, pulled up to her chin, and the dog was tied up and laying at her feet.  In recent days, flowers have been left near a dog bowl at what remains of her encampment.

Dilag is believed to have owned a nail shop before she fell on hard times.

On the first morning of our camping trip, your intrepid trio — foursome counting Ace — decided to take an impromptu hike, just a slow and casual one, following the Davidson River upstream for a ways to see where it took us.

Our first stop was at a fishing/swimming hole, where a few campers were trying their luck, including a woman who had just learned to fly fish. She hadn’t had much luck that morning, but before that she’d caught some, and she whipped out her cellphone to prove it, clicking her way to the correct photo, then holding it up for us to see, as one might hold up a just-caught fish.

As Ace sniffed about, and befriended a young boy, she continued showing us photos on her phone, including one she found very disturbing.

In it, she said, there appeared the ghostly image of a little girl that wasn’t there when the photo was taken.

Not having my glasses, I really couldn’t distinguish anything. But as my two friends seemed amazed, I pretended I was, too, nodding my head and saying ”wow.”

We walked on a bit, Ace being more than up to the task. This is his favorite part of camping — blazing a new, to him, trail.

At one point he clambered up a three-foot tall tree stump. At another he darted in and out of the water, then jumped atop a four foot wall. He showed absolutely no sign of his back bothering him.  Despite his fear of the campfire, and the noises it produced, the night before, he was, after two long months, starting to act like himself again. Perhaps the camping trip — as camping trips can do — was curing what the drugs couldn’t.

He ran. He played. The stiffness that seemed to have been bothering him was gone. And when he shook, it was all out, with gusto — not that fearful tentative headshake  he has been doing of late.

When we came to a fork in the trail, we let Ace pick the direction, and he chose left — up a mountain, instead of following alongside the river. Not a rigorous climb, by any stretch, but I still felt it necessary to inform my two doctor friends that I had imaginary peripheral artery disease (IPAD).

Understand that once a disorder/disease/infirmity gets advertised on TV, I become convinced I have it — not enough to talk to my doctor about whatever drug the ad is for, not enough to submit to the numerous side effects the drug ads list, but enough to fret. That’s why I also have imaginary mesothelioma, though, according to advertisements, you want to talk to your lawyer about that, as opposed to your doctor. The cure for that, apparently, is a lawsuit.

(Disclaimer: These diseases are no laughing matter, even though the advertisements, in which drug companies and law firms feign great concern for your well-being,  are.)

“Yes,” I explained to Dr. John, “that peripheral artery thing, I’m pretty sure I have it.  My legs get tired when I walk uphill.”

I expected him to say, “Don’t walk uphill.” But instead he told me I should be taking an aspirin every day — and not one of those baby ones, a real grown up one.

This low grade climb didn’t seem to bother me, though. Perhaps Ace’s return to normal  was putting a little more spring in my step. I’m convinced our dogs reflect us, and us them — both when it comes to personality and how we’re behaving at a moment in time. What’s harder to figure out, often, is who is doing the projecting and who is doing the reflecting. Am I, for instance, behaving lethargically/bufoonishly/fearfully because Ace is, or vice versa?

Am I low key because he’s low key, or is he low key because I’m low key, and are we both feeding off each other’s low keyedness and becoming more low keyed yet, and, if so, how low can we go before we’re both asleep?

We were both wide awake on this walk — me due to five or so cups of hearty campground coffee, Ace, I think, because of the newness and the nature. When we came to a weathered wooden sign that said “old cemetery,” we followed where it pointed.

After a couple of switchbacks we came to a hill from which a dozen or so gravestones protruded from the ferns. If the stones had names on them, few of them were legible anymore — except for the one pictured at the top of this post.

Buried beneath it was Avo Sentell, who had just turned five when she died — the same day in 1916 as her mother, Susan, who is buried next to her.

We paused, and grew more sober. Amid towering trees – some thriving, some rotting, some dead — we speculated on what it could have been that killed both mother and daughter on the same day.

I told myself I should stop joking about deadly diseases — even though that is how I cope with my own immortality. Call it a survival skill.

Back home after my camping trip with college buddies, I Googled Avo Sentell — Googling being a generally safe activity, whose only side effects are eye strain, carpal tunnel syndrome and terminal frustration over all the garbage, pop-up and otherwise, that litters the Internet.

Through one of those grave-finding websites, I learned that Avo and her mother were killed  in a landslide in Pisgah National Forest during the Great Flood of 1916.

Both were buried at the  site of their deaths.  I found a group photo that contained Avo — she’s the third from the left in the second row in this picture of the entire student body of English Chapel School. Seeing how tiny she was wrenched my heart a little more.

That mystery resolved, another remained.

It was not whether Avo was the image in the fisherwoman’s photo. We’re not, much, prone to believing in the supernatural, and I doubt Avo’s ghost is haunting the mossy, fern-studded hills — even though we were in Transylvania County.

What I was left wondering about was the tiny pink mitten that was draped over her tombstone. On the mitten are the words “Always Trouble.”

I doubt it was left there as a commentary on her – for the mitten was too modern, and who is left to remember a girl who died 95 years ago? Besides, Avo appears to have been too small to have caused a significant amount of trouble in her life,  much less “always.”

Maybe it was dropped by a hiker. Maybe someone else picked it and placed it there so  someone might find it. Maybe it was left there as a gift, or commentary on life, by a stranger, or a descendant of the Sentell family.

A bouquet of yellow plastic flowers was at the base of the stone, which was clearly an upgrade — it’s too clean and clear and modern to have been the one that was originally there.

To me, it was also a reminder. Life is fleeting, and sometimes unfair, and there is always — somewhere — trouble. We work. We laugh. We play. We cope. We die.

Sometimes, before the journey’s over, we tackle those troubles. Sometimes we ignore them. Sometimes we joke about them. Sometimes we’re too rushed to pay them any mind at all. Sometimes we let them weigh us down to an unhealthy degree.

At times like those, friends come in handy.

At times like those, a walk in the woods — with your dog —  is good.

The reward for information leading to the arrest of whoever shot and killed two dogs in Pennsylvania  has reached $50,000, the Chester County SPCA said yesterday — and the gang at Rescue Ink has joined in the investigation.

The reward fund was established last October after the two family pets were found near the railroad tracks along Brandywine Creek in Pennsbury Township. Both had been shot between the eyes at close range.

Emma, a one-and-a-half-year-old German shorthaired pointer, and Luna, a two-year-old mix of the same breed, had been placed tail to tail, said Rich Britton, spokesman for the Chester County SPCA. The two dogs were reported missing from a Pocopson Township farm Oct. 25.

Today, the search for the killer will get an additional boost from Rescue Ink, a group of tattooed animal rescuers who appear on National Geographic Channel’s Rescue Ink Unleashed, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer.

Rescue Ink, which targets animals in danger, will participate in a news conference today at 2 p.m. and meet with the public from 3 to 4:30 p.m. at the Chester County SPCA, 1212 Phoenixville Pike, West Chester. A town-hall meeting will be held at 7 p.m.  at the Chadds Ford Historical Society, 1736 Creek Rd.

When a Maltese-poodle mix named Mindy was found after being lost for 100 days in the woods of northwest Massachusetts, she was infested with fleas, her weight had dropped to three pounds, and her fur was so matted over her face that she couldn’t see, which explained why she was running around in circles.

She was “effectively blind,” said Martha King-Devine, of the Dakin Pioneer Valley Humane Society. “She was just skin and bones when they brought her into the shelter.”

Mindy was lost during a family trip in August, surviving more than three months among the owls, foxes, coyotes and bears who dwell in the woods, the Mansfield News Journal reports.

Mindy had disappeared when Kathy and John Dunbar stopped at a rest area on their way to Maine to visit a terminally ill relative. “I thought he put her in and he thought I put her in,” Dunbar said.

Back on the road, they realized Mindy was missing, and retraced their route, spending six hours trying to find her. They also dropped off business cards at shops and police stations, and filed a report with the Dakin Pioneer Valley Humane Society — all, it seemed, to no avail.

On Nov. 13, though, Mindy was found by Tye Carlson, a boy with autism, about 30 miles from the rest area. Tye and his father took her to a local veterinarian, then took her home, where Tye — normally fearful of dogs, according to his mother – became fast friends with Mindy.

The Carlsons were more than happy to keep Mindy, but when they learned — through the humane society — that she had been reported missing three months earlier, Carlson and her son knew that they had to give Mindy back to her owners.

Mindy is back home with the Dunbars now.

Mrs. Carlson, meanwhile, said she is “definitely thinking” about getting a dog for her son now.

Here’s hoping he gets a great one.

The Kentucky couple whose dog carried their infant son from a bassinet into the woods behind their home, causing criticial injuries to the child, now wants the wolf hybrid returned home, authorities said Friday.

Jessamine County Attorney Brian Goettl told the Lexington Herald-Leader that a court order will be needed before Dakota the dog is returned to Michael Smith, of Jessamine County.

“I’m concerned about the safety of the child, and we are going to be reviewing the situation over the weekend to see what can be done to ensure the safety of the child,” Goettl said.

Smith had previously told reporters that Dakota would not return to his house. News that the dog might go back to the Smiths’ home came on the same day that the Jessamine County Sheriff’s Office said it had closed its investigation of the July 20 incident.

The baby, Alexander James “A.J.” Smith was 3 days old on July 20 when Dakota, a female wolf-dog hybrid, picked him up and carried him outside the Smiths’ Jessamine County home.

The baby suffered a cracked skull, cracked ribs, and a collapsed lung. He was in critical condition for several days at University of Kentucky Hospital, but has recovered and is back  home.

Michael Smith said at an earlier press conference that he hoped Dakota could be adopted by another owner: “Obviously, Dakota is not coming back into my house.”

The dog remains at the Jessamine County SAVE Center, the animal shelter for dogs and cats in Nicholasville, director Jenise Smith said.

The sad and disturbing case of the infant who was critically injured when he was snatched from his bassinet and carried to the woods by the family dog, now appears headed for a happy ending.

The baby, A.J., is home from the hospital, and is expected to recover fully. Meanwhile, Dakota, the 4-year-old “Native American Indian Dog, ” remains under the care of Jessamine County Animal Control’s SAVE Center where they are working to find him a home, ZooToo reports.

“We’ve had some nice offers from private homes,” said Jenise Smith, the center’s director.

At the time of the incident, in Nicholasville, Ky., just outside Lexington, AJ was just 3-days-old, having arrived home from the hospital on Sunday, July 19. He was snagged by the dog the next day, and spent nearly a week at the University of Kentucky Medical Center in Lexington, suffering two collapsed lungs, a skull fracture, broken ribs and various cuts and bruises.

The 4-year-old dog is one of three the family has had for years. Dakota had never shown signs of aggression to the family’s two other children, the Smiths said. The dog has she shown no signs of violence since being taken from the family.

On a less uplifiting note, the SAVE Center reported hearing that scammers were apparently at work, fraudulently attempting to raise money for Dakota. SAVE officials issued a statement last week explaining that “any other websites, emails, etc, soliciting donations for Dakota are NOT connected to the SAVE Center.”

The baby in Kentucky who was injured when dragged outside by the family dog is slowly improving, and his condition has been upgraded to critical.

Alexander James Smith, A.J. for short, was pulled from his bassinet, which makes more sense the original reports that he was removed from his crib, by the family dog, Dakota, at the family’s home in Jessamine County. The dog dragged him about 200 yards into the woods behind the house.

The baby suffered collapsed lungs, a fractured skull and broken ribs among other injuries. His father , Michael Smith, said the dog won’t be coming back to their home, but that he hoped it might be able to find a new one.

The dog is still under quarantine at the Jessamine County Save Center, which reports having received hundreds of calls have flooded the Jessamine County Save Center wanting to adopt the dog.

“I appreciate the concern and the outpouring of support, even from complete strangers,” Smith said. “It has been overwhelming and really comforting and helped us get through this difficult time.”

Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Daniel Rubin was taking his dog Harley for a short morning walk. You know the kind. Hurry up and do your business … It’s cold … Gotta get to work. But — as will happen when new dog meets freshly fallen snow – the short walk turned into a long walk, an acquaintance turned into a friend, and, more important for Dan, taking the time to go down a new path or two turned into a column. Here’s what he posted on his Facebook page, which he later condensed into a column, which appears in today’s Inquirer.

Harley’s first step out the door is up — straight up — all 100-or-so loping, furry, orsine pounds of Bouvier twisting, leaping, soaring into the air. He looks back, wild-eyed and grinning.

To be a dog in the snow.

The idea was to walk him long enough so he could do his thing, then I could excavate the car and drive into town, where bad roads and deadline awaited.

But everytime this dog sees a blanket of snow, he’s seeing it for the first time. I’m not sure how bright he is. But he does know how to live.

We took the middle of the road, usually a whoosh of morning traffic, but there were no cars, no sound. There were no sidewalks yet either at 7 o’clock, just slight furrows in the virgin snow.

In the next block a lone figure shoveled the deep, airy powder. He was pink-faced and wore a beret, a field jacket, sweats and Wellies.

“Nice day for a walk,” he said, happily stopping for a moment.

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