January
1
October
3
Supernatural Veterinary Science: Good God, don’t do that!
My dayjob and writing life will collide this weekend at Imaginarium in Louisville, KY. I’ll be teaching a writing class on applying biology (vet medicine/animal behavior science/epidemiology). Coincidentally, I’ve also been reading Hounded by Kevin Hearne. I was recommended to me by a number of people who probably thought I’d like it because the main character Atticus has a side kick–namely an Irish Wolfhound he can communicate with telepathically.
But I’m not enjoying it. Kind of not at all. First, I’m not huge into Irish mythos. But that’s not hard to overcome. Second, Atticus is a smug, cocky, child-man. Third the story the author tells is sexist (every woman either sleeps with the hero, for no reason, or if they won’t they’re probably unattractive, or an evil shrew) and the writing doesn’t show Atticus as a clever man worthy of the gift of immortality or attention from the gods. Instead it cuts all the “foe” characters down into even stupider, flatter beings to keep the hero from ever being in real danger. (I mean, when facing down with a legendary, goddess-favored warrior, Atticus literally pushes him over the invisible dog behind him so that he trips and falls and Atticus can behead him.)
Then, we have the dog. Oberon is a great name. And it’s the greatest part of him. While Atticus has gifted Oberon with some intelligence and telepathic communication through his friendship it’s just that Oberon isn’t a dog. The character is a dumb human, to put it in D&D terms a troll or kobold, in dog form.
The. Dog. Makes. Pop. Culture. References. The dog uses very human slang. Sarcasm. The dog talks about watching The Wizard of Oz.
This is my suspension of disbelief; broken.
While there are some studies that show that dogs will watch TV we know that they don’t see the color range that we do, they perceive “moving pictures” differently (they are faster than us, so what is moving TV to us is jerky animated pictures to them), and they just don’t stay interested long enough. Their attention span is way more active. While they might be drawn to a noise or sudden movement the lack of other sensory excitement (smell, taste, etc) causes them to lose interest fast. Dogs will cuddle on the couch with you. They will follow your gaze instinctively (like other humans do), but once that “alert” period is not further engaged they stop really paying attention.
And even if a dog actually physically watched the television for a whole movie, they don’t think in “plot” terms like we do. They can learn action and reaction (thus learning commands and the whole “looking guilty” thing), but they wouldn’t have much of a understand of the concept of stories, or stories following the same plot. Much less enough to make accurate comparisons of immediate activity to it.
This seems like a small thing to harp on, but this is really just an example of an ongoing problem. The dog also uses language like a human would. Sentence structure, even paragraph structure. And correct grammar, like verb tenses. Dogs are as mentally developed as two year olds, which is impressive! But Oberon does NOT talk like a 2 year old.
Early in the book the goddess of the hunt drives Oberon to kill a man. This is supposed to drive some of the story, but it does in all the wrong ways for me. Atticus slaps an invisibility spell on Oberon and consults with a lawyer on…how to help his dog avoid the lawful consequences of his actions.
I understand wanting to protect your dog against being put down. (I really, really, really understand that.) But the way it is written 1) Atticus completely avoids questioning whether he or other people are safe around his dog 2) avoids a metric ton of the actual emotional impact of the issue by dismissing the target as “a set up bad guy” and the reasoning as “magic powers took the dog over”. I immediately wondered who does the awesomely clever Druid who has charms for everything, somehow NOT have a charm to protect his beloved dog from being influenced by the fae/gods who he knows are trying to kill him??
Of course, there are a number of in the open slaughtering where people who have no clue blatantly cover for Atticus as well, to the point of being completely okay with murder and cover up. (I mean his neighbor gets lemonade for him while he goes to bury a body in her back yard.)
I put the book down for almost a month. I picked it up again, hoping it was just a mood, but no, I’m struggling. What I commonly do at this point is read reviews to see if these issues resolve themselves. If there is a chance, I’ll keep reading. The reviews say there is no chance. (Not until book three. But frankly, I don’t have three books of money and time to wait for things to get good.) In fact, the reviews said some other things which bothered me.
I know that this is a fiction series that isn’t even trying to be realistic. But in the end Atticus “rewards” Oberon for being a good boy by buying him 5 in heat poodles.
So, I’ll cover rape briefly. I do believe dogs can consent. Any breeder can tell you a female dog can make her lack of interest in a male very clear. But INFORMED consent is different. 2 year olds, and dogs, don’t do clear informed consent.
But that’s not my issue (though it was an issue with other readers). My issue is…
This is an Irish Wolfhound.
This is a herd of adorable Irish Wolfhounds.
This is a standard poodle, the largest classification of poodles.
The Iris Wolfhound is the tallest of the breeds. the AKC standard says males should be at least 32 inches at the shoulder and around 120 pounds. The breed standard for poodles says female poodles should weigh 40-50 pounds max. Less than half the size. And In Heat means fertile. Ready to breed. Intent to breed. Atticus gifted his wolfhound with five females ready to breed who in the real world would be less than half his size.
Those breeding would be incredibly dangerous and likely deadly for the females. What ridiculous kind of asshat would think it’s okay to buy a bunch of dogs as a reward for his dog, when that reward would likely very seriously harm or kill them??
I mean, let’s set aside the fact that dogs are more smell and taste-centered than us, and not likely at all to fixate sexually on a certain breed’s appearance.
What kind of “hero” treats human women like trash, goddess like vapid, sexy-child-conquests, and female dogs like sacrifices? Honestly, not one I want to spend a lot of time reading about.
So this is a timely reminder (and example) of what I’m trying to teach other authors about. It’s not that science is so very important in speculative fiction. But it’s pretty clear to me that the careless treatment of animal characters and the lack of attention to decent (or even decently fake) science are not isolated writing issues, but mirror issues with the human characters, setting, and plot. It’s just one more way we, as authors can double check ourselves and build lovely, complex tales for readers.
September
26
Building a Bug Out Bag for Your Dog
Note: This is an updated version of this older post on disaster prepping for pets.
I’m reexamining my own dog bug out bags (picked up a new dog back pack on clearance, and a good quality one too.) and figured it was time to reexamine the subject here too. I think it’s really important to ask yourself two big questions when building a kit, be it a get home kit, a car kit, or a dog bug out bag.
The first is why. Why would you need emergency supplies? What are you preparing for? There are lots of reasons to prepare. While it’s fun, as a writer, to imagine a zombie apocalypse, real life has taught me to prepare for more likely things, like a flood, or a house fire. I used to make a list in my head sometimes of all the things I’d want to grab if we had a house fire in the middle of the night. Well now, that’s often how I design my bags.
The second question is how; how do you prepare? There are obvious ways, like building a bag, but also less obvious ways. Like training your dogs to carry a bag. Like training your dog period so that should an emergency happen you aren’t trying to juggle a 70 lb panicked animal as well as kids and whatever else your escape route has waiting for you. I cannot stress enough the importance of basic training with your dog. It matters so much. Training helps teach your dog how to act, just like you teach kids. You teach politeness, how to behave in public areas, how to deal with stressful or scary situations, as well as the basic commands like sit, heel, and stay which, sadly these days may absolutely keep your dog alive in stressful situations. (Sadly, police these days aren’t always just shooting unarmed humans.)
The second part of how is in choosing a good pack. Previously I mentioned being able to use any pack, and that’s true, unless you expect your dog to carry it. A pack for dogs should be comfortable for them because an ill-fitting pack can rub them and hurt them. Training a dog to carry a pack is pretty easy. If you let them carry an empty pack, then progress to a pack with a few water bottles in it on walks they’ll easily learn that the pack means a walk and they’ll look forward to the pack as much as they do to you grabbing a leash.
Packs should fit well, not too tight or too loose. The clearance pack I just bought actually has padding around the clips as well as around the chest strap. It has D-rings and bungee straps for adding more and a handle on top for helping dogs over logs, into cars and such.
I really love Outward Hound packs. Ursa’s other pack is also an Outward Hound pack and it has inner pockets and the “bag” part can be removed from the harness to give a dog a rest.
The bags are available in multiple sizes, are around $20-40 and are water resistant and have reflector material.
It’s important to note that dogs can carry between 15 and 25% of their body weight. My advice is to take your pack in when you take your dog for their yearly vet visit and ask to weigh the pack separately to make sure you aren’t overloading your pet. Also talk to your vet about what is a healthy amount for your dog to carry. As our rottweiler, Dizzy, got older we reduced his pack weigh. Some breeds, especially larger breeds like German Shepherds, Rotts, Dobermans, and even Mastiffs, are genetically prone to hip and elbow problems and it might not be healthy for them to carry in that 15-25%. Where as other breeds like pit bull types, are more thickly muscled and might be able to easily handle even more. Please, please, do not neglect to include your vet’s opinion.
Once you know what you are planning for, and you have your bag and your healthy weight limit it gets a lot easier to put your bag together. The rules that go for human emergency bags also go for dogs, but dogs, of course, are less complicated.
-Spare collar, leash, and ID tags
Actually I have spare ID tags on the collar and on the pack itself. And in a pinch a regular leash can be a slip leash.
-Water
Most dogs need 1 to 1.5 cups of water per 10 lbs of body weight a day. I personally have a 35 lb dog, a 65 lb dog and a 72 lb dog. A 2-liter bottle of water weighs just over 4 lbs. But of course we have to balance our pack, so it might be easier to use 1-liter bottles if your dog is on the cusp, weight wise.
-Food
Again the amount depends on how much your dog eats a day, and how long you are prepping for (bags are usually meant for 24, 48, or 72 hours). Because dogs can have issues with sudden changes in food I advise Not skimping even a little bit on food. There are pouches of wet food available these days instead of cans, which I think should be included because wet food can entice a stressed dog to eat, and it can add to the hydration. But it shouldn’t be the primary amount. The best thing to do is to bag smaller amounts of your dogs’ food, a few cups or even a portion at a time, then bag those bags in another before adding it to the pack. The double bagging helps prevent it from drawing bugs, rodent, you even your dogs. And being in the small bags allows you to shift the bags around for more even weight distribution. Plus the double bagging helps protect in case the pack gets wet.
-Medicine
If your dog is on medicine have at least an extra week supply. This includes flea and tick and heartworm medicines. Besides that talk to your vet about basic dog first aid meds they might be able to offer. Dogs cannot have acetaminophen or ibuprofen, but carprofen is a similar NSAID that is cheap and easier on their system than aspirin. Your vet will likely be glad to help you get an emergency supply, as well as basic, dog-safe first aid supplies like ear cleaner, and eye ointment.
-First Aid kit
Again, double bag it for water protection (and because spare bags can be useful!), but common supplies include; cotton balls, gauze, sports/vet wrap (a bandage wrapping that only sticks to itself), waterproof tape, antibiotic ointment, benadryl, a styptic pencil, a syringe (without a needle. This can be used to clean wounds or force feed or hydrate a sick dog), petroleum jelly, a thermometer, a pair of hemostats, a small pair of scissors, a wound cleaner like chlorahexidine solution, electrolyte powder (like the gatorade powder packets now available) and peroxide.
-Collapsible bowls
-Potty bags
-Treats or a toy
-Situational clothing
Not all dogs have much of a coat, so they might need one, whether they like it or not, in the winter. Also black or thin-haired dogs might need a t shirt for sun protection in summer. The big thing I recommend is boots or at the very least thick, toddler-sized socks, the kind with the treads on the bottom. If your dog is not already outside walking a lot their pads might be only slightly more prepared for hot pavement or ice and snow than your bare feet.
-A copy of their medical records, including contact information for their vet and an emergency contact who will take care of the dog should you not be able to, and a picture of your pet, preferably WITH you.
-a longer tether or 15 ft training leash
-a bandana or pair of old panty hose or thigh-highs to use as a muzzle
While you can buy muzzles specifically in your pet’s size, if you have multiple pets this is easier and cheaper, and they can fit just about every size of muzzle.
-A blanket or beach towel
For warmth or use as a sling
A few do nots:
-I really do not recommend bringing canned dog food. It is not the best calorie for weight food, cans are heavy, and you’ll likely need to add a can opener too. If you want wet food look into pouched food instead.
-I have read articles talking about having your pets carry your stuff too. This can be fine, but make sure to put their items first when it comes to that weight limit.
– There is a lot of crappy information out there. Please double check with a veterinary professional on the safety of all medicines you put in your pet first aid kit.
-Having pet specific food is actually pretty important. Dogs are prone to diarrhea and vomiting if they change food too quick, and some people foods, like jerky could be too rich for them (especially smaller dogs) and can even result in pancreatitis. If you’ve had to bug out because of an emergency the last thing you need is a dog with the runs at a hotel or friend’s house, or a dog that needs to be hospitalized.
-I really, really do not recommend including any rawhide, bones, or antlers in your emergency bags. A lot of places sell them, and a lot of dogs like them. But bones and antlers can chip teeth, break off in chunks, and even sharp chunks causing blockages and damage to a dog’s digestive track. Rawhide can break in sharp pieces and cause blockages as well. There are alternatives to these, like Busy Bones, dried beef tracheae, and bully sticks. Again, the last thing you need if you have to bug out is a vet emergency.
May
30
A snippet from the WIP
From my work in progress, Gone to the Dogs
Jax jogged restlessly through the pines, cedars, and naked oaks of the “tame woods”. It was technically on the human side of their territory. Some human, many years ago, had paved a trail through and culled diseased wood, even planted woodland flowers and erected a few bronze and stone statues. But then they let it grow wild again, save for occasionally mowing the grass in the play ground area or clearing storm debris from the trail.
The asphalt had aged badly, tree roots giving it ridges and peaks and distance markings fading into faint white spots here and there.
There were no laws banning natives from public human areas. There couldn’t be, it was part of the treaty. That hadn’t stopped them from seeking many ways around the treaty over the years. But this park had always been public property. So the wolves patrolled, because humans couldn’t be trusted to protect the borders.
To be honest, they couldn’t be trusted to do much. Even this new one, the one many were starting to call Alex’s pet human. She couldn’t be bothered to act in a way he understood.
His stomach itched where his stitches had been, though they’d come out a while ago. It was thinking about her that did it. Her hands had been inside him. She’d touched him in ways even his kin never would. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t sure he could complain. He didn’t even remember it, just knew what he’d been told after. But that knowledge made him uncomfortable, itchy under the skin.
There were plenty of other wolves with different views on humans. Outright hunting them for food or sport was banned, but there were other kinds of hunting. Some young males made a game of bedding them. It appeared to be easy, and the males enjoyed the attention of a warm female body or two. Where the wolf females could be demanding and picky, human females threw themselves at anything exotic that gave them a smoldering look, or bought them something pretty.
Jax never had any interest in such games. Humans were a thing best categorized with items like swamps, hurricanes, and crocodiles. Whatever good they had was out balanced by their irritation factor. They were better off as far away from him, his life, as he could keep them. Far enough to pretend they didn’t exist most of the time.
Now he felt intimately linked to one. Heather, his twin, felt it too, but she seemed more curious than repulsed. It would be easier if he could adopt her path. Or her, his. He felt…infected.
Still, when Curtis, one of Elliot’s litter mates, had sneered, made a crude comment and joked about “forgetting” to include the human woman in the manor’s security plan, there’d been a fight. The kind of fight where he still tasted Curtis’ blood in his mouth. Curtis backed down, but grudgingly. It also sat wrong with Jax.
They didn’t choose who was pack and who wasn’t, who lived at the manor, and who didn’t. They were just charged with protecting it. All of it, not just some of it. The elders had even approved of the human woman’s position. He didn’t like her, but neither could he say she deserved to have backs turned on her when it came to her safety. She’d done nothing to deserve that either.
But it made the taste of blood no less bitter in his mouth. His sister called him troubled. Afflicted was more like it, but what with he couldn’t determine. So he put all that uncertainty to good use and patrolled.
Only part of the border between human land and native was guarded by a wall. Well, a wall humans would recognize. Here it was a six foot chain link fence, decorated with warning signs. In other places it was woods too thick to cut through, or cliffs too steep to climb to trap you until area patrols conveniently wandered upon you.
Part of him missed the wilder places, where he didn’t smell the chemical tang of human. There were places that were greener, waters that were bluer in the world. Places with hundreds of thousands of miles of space to run. Where you could wander for years and still not see all the Mother had created.
Yet here he was.
There were reasons he stayed here. He liked running with four strong legs beneath him. He liked working with his hands too, and in this community something always needed to be built, repaired, or expanded. There was also the community itself. It was…more civilized. No, that wasn’t the right word. It was very wrong. It was a different kind of civilized.
In the north west, where he came from, the clans had no shared spaces. They would never think to call another species’ community. Friend, that happened. Lover, also occasionally. The clans didn’t hesitate to come together for safety or trading. But to call someone from another clan brother, like Alex did with Dane and Cerulean? That never happened.
Jax shook out and let his fur settle back into place. The way the clans interacted here confused him sometimes. Throwing a human into the mix was just asking for trouble.
His face crinkled in a wolf-grimace. A tree had fallen on the fence here. One half of the forked branch had been impaled on the post. The other had pulled down the fence. And a long time ago, too, judging by the number of vines, brown and dried, twisting through the chain link.
This section of the fence bordered about a mile of wolf pack maintained woods before it let out at the pack homes. It wasn’t exactly close to the majority of the pack’s homes. But there wasn’t enough between it and the wolves for Jax’s comfort.
He sniffed over the area. Most of the scents were stale. A beer can, a soda bottle, half-decayed plastic wrap. A ground hog had been by. Someone had nailed short, weathered boards along the trunk of a nearby tree.
Jax widened his circle. The acrid scent of piss hit his nose. His lip pulled back automatically. It was part sneer, part instinctual reflex to taste the scent. Human, male, he decided. He sneezed to clear his nose. Then he looked around.
This wasn’t just some hiker relieving himself. He was half a mile from a trail on the human side of the fence. The space between here and there was thickets, young trees, and deer paths. A forester might explore, or a hunter. But not a casual passerby.
The way the scent arched too, Jax looked up. Someone had sat in the tree, probably using the boards to climb and had relieved himself while still in the limbs.
This time when his lip curled it was from disgust. The fence would have to be repaired. And soon. Someone could easily watch them from here.
The boom took him by surprise. Jax launched himself forward automatically, but when he landed his right fore leg screamed in protest and gave out. He rolled in the dirt, trying to shake off the confusion. The brush rattled. Moments later two noisy, would-be hunters thundered through the woods toward him.
“I know I hit something,” the first said.
“Yeah, probably someone’s dog,” the second voice chided.
“Shut up.”
They pushed through and caught sight of him at the same time. Jax’s hackles rose, a snarl rolling from his throat. Blood dripped from the wound in his shoulder, wetting the leg he tried to hide weakness in.
“Oh, fuck, you shot a wolf.”
Jax puffed himself up more but refrained from taking a step toward them, their scents already spiked with fear.
Chase, bite, tear, his wolf side snarled. Make them hurt like you hurt. But his man side was aware of the guns they held, and the danger of chasing humans into human lands where more humans and more guns were sure to be.
His front leg hurt enough to be useless, so the obvious choice was to shift up and use his rear legs. One of the humans screamed, only to cut himself off when Jax took to two legs.
“Oh shit, oh shit, you shot one of them!”
The men turned and ran, one throwing his long gun at Jax before he spun. The weapon skidded across the leaves. Jax jumped away automatically, though the urge to chase spiked when they ran. The scent of their fear was a heady thing, appealing in his current state.
Instead he turned away, to help fight the need to chase. He felt the grind of his shoulder and snarled again. When he was younger, twelve or so, another boy had attacked him with a crappy blade that snapped off inside his skin. Now he recognized the feeling of metal in a wound.
That meant a trip to Jai instead of even a tiny chase. Cursing, and still covered in fur, Jax snatched up the abandoned gun and began his trudge back to the compound.
That fence was definitely getting fixed, and immediately.
December
27
Oh, Carrie Fisher
I didn’t know what Star Wars was for a long time, but I’d been watching it. Way back when, when my mom was divorcing my dad she’d take us to his apartment for Saturday visits, but he often couldn’t be bothered to spend much actual time with us. Sometimes this hurt a lot. But it wasn’t all bad, because it was the most free, unsupervised time I ever had. He didn’t care what we did as long as we didn’t wake him up. (she would drop us off at 6 am. He would go back to bed until non or one–at the earliest.)
And he had cable. So I’d watch my Saturday morning cartoons with no worry that my mom would find out and disapprove. Then, after those were over I’d look through his VHS tapes (we did not have VHS at home. Tv and movies were not encouraged at all. I only begrudingly was allowed Saturday morning cartoons, and sometimes I wasn’t allowed to watch certain cartoons, like She-Ra or Jem. Apparently they were ungodly, something I really do not understand as an adult because She-Ra was a hero who helped everyone and Jem and the Holograms ran a freakin’ orphanage.) He didn’t have a lot for kids. There was The Smurfs and The Magic Flute, which I watched almost every week.
And there was this tape that had “From Star Wars to Jedi” an HBO special about the making of Star Wars, Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. I didn’t actually see Star Wars until it was remastered and released in theaters again. That’s probably why it is my least favorite of the original trilogy. But I watched the making of special almost every week. And I watched Empire occasionally (it was dark and scary and so sad. Darth Vader wasn’t the scary part. Luke finding out that Vader was his father, that the force he’d been fighting this whole time was his blood…that was scary. Being tempted by the dark side was scary. Han being frozen and everyone being upset and sad. That was depressing.)
But Return was…I adore that movie. Luke finds his footing, his calm center and tries to save Han. But, and I can’t even tell you how much I loved this, Leia was already there, SAVING THE MAN SHE LOVED. Whaaa? Women aren’t supposed to save the men. But she did. She was strong, smart, lovely and didn’t depend on anyone else to get things done. And yeah, she gets captured, but she’s irritated by that, not scared. And, as I’ve said before, the penultimate scene where she kills Jabba, she has been stripped of her weapons, her clothes and he attempted to strip her of her dignity but she never gave in, and in the end killed him with the very chain he tried to contain her with. That was amazingly powerful to me. (Clearly I was not raised to believe in a woman’s independence and agency over her own body and life.)
When I got older, after my mom had died and we were living full time with my dad, those feelings stuck around. I had a complex mental relationship with Leia because while I adored her strength and cleverness, her determination and fierceness, I also struggled with the ideals my mother and extended family had tried to instill in me and felt like I *shouldn’t* be so attracted to Leia (she was another Jem, a She-Ra for sure, and my very literate, always reading mother once threatened to cut up my library card for checking a She-Ra book out of the library, so surely there had to be something very wrong with strong, clever, independent princesses, right?)
Also, there might have been a bit of burgeoning self awareness because I was actually ATTRACTED to Leia as well. I imagined being Luke, but I wanted to be with Leia.
I got bits and pieces of who Carrie Fisher herself was. But there was always a bit of self distance there, because I WANTED, desperately, to maintain my idolization of her, and I needed her to remain the luminous, beautiful person she was. She was bold, in her personal life. She never seemed to let aging or the crush of reality, or Hollywood culture rule her life. She never obeyed. She was always bold and clever, strong and beautiful.
She was and always will be one of my few lifetime idols.
Rest, well Carrie.
