FDA Warning: Store-Bought Bone Treats Could Kill Your Dog

The FDA has issued a warning about Store-Bought Bone Treats that can kill your dog.  Please pay attention to this and keep your dog safe and happy.

Just a note on FDA warnings about dog treats:  I missed the FDA's warning about sweet potato chews and the illnesses they caused.  Sure enough, when I gave Rambo sweet potato chews he became deathly ill and the FDA even got involved in his veteranarian care and with the vendor.  Please don't make the same mistake I did!

You can sign up for Dog Food Advisory Alerts by following the link in the last paragraph of this entry.

***FDA DOG FOOD ALERT ADVISORY***

The United States Food and Drug Administration has issued an important  warning regarding store-bought bone treats for dogs.

The associated treats have already caused numerous illnesses and even death in at least 15 dogs.

To learn which products are affected, please visit the following link:

FDA Warning: Store-Bought Bone Treats Could Kill Your Dog

Please be sure to share the news of this important recall event with other pet owners.

Mike Sagman, Editor
The Dog Food Advisor

P.S. Not already on our dog food recall notification list yet? Sign up to get critical dog food recall alerts sent to you by email. There's no cost for this service.

An Open Letter to the dog sitter that cancelled three hours before my dentist appointment

Dear dog sitter [from Rover.com] that cancelled three hours before my dentist appointment,

The first question that came to my mind after your heartless cancellation of our arrangement for you to watch my dog, after the inevitable question of “why,” is why do you advertise as a dog sitter?  Do you understand the implied trust someone comes to you with?  Do you think that my coming to you to watch my dog is just something I did for fun and that I had nothing else important to do?  Do you understand that my seeking someone to watch my dog shows how important that dog is to me as well as how important the time I needed you to watch him is?  Somehow I doubt it.

I came to your home with my dog so you could meet him and ostensibly evaluate both of us before you accepted us as a client.  I understand this and I made the effort.  I was clear that I had a dental appointment the next morning.  Did you think I was just making this up?

The second question that quickly came to mind certainly calls your judgement into question.  If you are capable, just imagine my disbelief that quickly turned into panic when I woke up at 9:21 am to see that you cancelled your commitment only 18 minutes earlier.  After I instantly tried to contact you I received only silence. Then I read the message you sent at 8:06 am:

“Hi Peter- I see you haven't responded through rover yet with your confirmation or payment. If this isn't done by 9am, I'm afraid we won't be able to help today.”

I can only deduce from this that everyone in your kombucha and granola world gets out of bed at the butt crack of dawn.  Meanwhile there are others of us who have different sleeping hours let alone sleep problems that I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.  Why would you set an artificial deadline that you never forewarned me of by sending a message that you could not be sure I received?  Why would you begin to think that I wouldn’t hold up my end of the commitment to not only show up but to be sure you are paid?  Were you not listening to me last night as you sat two feet away from me that I said this was the first time I have used Rover and wasn’t sure how it all worked?  A reasonable person would have taken this into account.  A reasonable person might have even just waited until I showed up to remind me to confirm the appointment through the website so you could be sure you got paid.  You, on the other hand, assumed I was just going to flake on you while I was sleeping and not getting your messages.  That level of ignorance truly boggles my mind.

But wait, it gets worse.  I sent many a scathing letter to Rover’s customer service.  Rest assured they will be reviewing your account,  Your failure cost them money so you now have another little checkmark in the “bad” column.  Since you cancelled your commitment I was unable to leave a written evaluation on your profile so I am left with social media in which I will certainly point out your shortcomings.

While Rover’s customer service valiantly started calling every dog sitter they could find in Portland to find someone to watch  my dog on short notice, I watched the minutes until my dentist appointment dwindle down to the point that I could not make it even if I found someone to watch my service dog.  

Did I fail to mention that I had a an appointment at the dentist to get to?  

Since I am a disabled veteran I get my dental care at the VA hospital.  It takes at least 3 months to get an appointment.  At least.  So you have not only wasted the three months it took me to get this appointment, now I have to wait another three months for the same damn appointment.  I can tell you in no uncertain terms that the tooth that I was to have worked on today will not make it another three months.  Your disregard for honoring your commitment leaves me in an even worse predicament when I will need to go into the dentist on an emergency basis without anyone to watch my dog on short notice.  How do you think that is going to work out for me?  My other option is to go to a civilian dentist and pay the bill out of pocket without insurance.  I live on a fixed income so that really isn’t much of an option.  So I just want to be sure that I say thank you for costing me so much time, pain, anguish and money.  You really did a good job of screwing me over.

Alas, it is not just me that you severely let down.  You know that three month timeline it takes to get a dentist appointment at the VA that I just mentioned?  The fact that I had no choice but to call and cancel my appointment literally at the last minute means that appointment time was wasted.  That open time could have gone to another veteran who is also likely to desperately need the service.  Nope, not on your watch.  You also put me at risk of being denied future dental care because I had to violate the VA’s 24 hour cancellation policy.  What am I supposed to do when someone gives me no choice inside that 24 hour window?  I can tell you the VA doesn’t care why I cancelled my appointment, they just know I cancelled and wasted the valuable time that they provide for veterans and that’s squarely on you.  I should also point out that the only veterans that get dental care at the VA are veterans that are 100% disabled (or service connected dental issues).  The harm you did is not “just” to veterans, it is to those veterans who are the most severely disabled and need the care the most.  Thanks for doing your part to support veterans.

You, my dear, have a huge dose of karma coming your way. And while I don’t make it a habit to wish ill upon others, it’s not beneath me to celebrate should a whole bunch of sorta-awful (but survivable) things become you.  Schadenfreude.  Look it up.

Hexes. Karma. Juju. Whatever you want to call it, it’s coming for you.  It’s been coming since 9:03 am this morning.  It might not strike tomorrow.  It probably won’t rear its ugly head until you least suspect it.  That next toothache that is most assuredly coming your way, even if it's 20 years from now, is going to remind you of how your own lack of patience, compassion and commitment hurt someone else needlessly.

When you start getting puss oozing sores inside your mouth that burn like fire leaving you unable to talk, eat or drink, please think about me.  Think about the pain and anguish you caused to men who sacrificed in service to your country while you deem yourself so important that you let your impatience and lack of judgement get the better of you.  That’s Karma.

You know what they say about karma? The same thing they say about sketchy sitters.

https://www.rover.com/members/kristen-c-loving-care-when-your-not-there/

That's Not a Real Service Dog!

I never thought this would happen to me!

There are two things every service dog handler will face during almost any outing into the public: discrimination and fraud.  These two things together make it hard for people who really need a service dog when they are out.  The general public knows little about service dogs and the law that provides their protection and privilege.  Then there are some that know just enough to scam the system which is a double whammy.  

      "I honestly didn't expect to have any

           problems with going places with my 

service dog but they were there from

the outset."

As a preface, in every instance that I will describe, Rambo is dressed with his vest and Halti.  This is not to mention that, at least to the knowing eye, he behaves like a service dog in public.  That is to say, his behavior in public is really quite good.  He often exhibits better behavior in public than the children we encounter.

The foremost discrimination issue that I have run across is that most employers, including many large companies and corporations, fail miserably at training their employees about the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).  This becomes glaringly obvious when I try to enter a restaurant or check into a hotel with Rambo at my side.  Far too often, as soon as Rambo and I walk through the door, I see the confused look come across the people that work there.  Sometimes I get dirty looks right from the start.  I understand now that these people simply don't know any better and I blame their employer as ultimately the responsibility to follow the ADA in their establishment falls firmly in their lap.  

My understanding of discrimination and how to deal with it didn't come easy or fast.  I honestly didn't expect to have any problems with going places with my service dog but they were there from the outset.  I was forced to learn how to handle these situations or I was going to have to avoid them and avoidance wasn't a choice.  I had never experienced honest-to-goodness discrimination before I started going out in public with Rambo.  It has given me a greater appreciation of what every disabled person in this country experiences.  Now I understand the protests I see on the news when someone is discriminated against.  Its an ugly, helpless feeling that triggers anger, sadness and self doubt.  No one should ever have to feel like that simply because of who they are but it is a commonplace occurrence every minute of every day.

I'm not going to get into the intricacies of the ADA in this post.  I will explore that in greater detail at a later time.   For now, I just want to give you some examples of the situations that I have encountered and how I have dealt with them.  You may find yourself in similar situation and maybe you will find some of the things that I have done helpful for you (but I am a sarcastic, take-no-guff kind of person and my responses aren't always "polite.").   Some of these examples will be rather short and I will supply only with what was said to me and my response.  While these are all very frustrating, sometimes they can be quite funny as well.  (I'm looking at you, TSA!)  To balance things out I will include a couple of situations that really demonstrate what a properly trained, well behaved service dog can pull off in public.

The most common situation in which discrimination occurs are in restaurants.  I read news stories all the time about how someone with a legitimate service dog was denied service or even kicked out of a restaurant simply because the employee didn't know any better.  While I'm on the subject of restaurants, let me stop and ask this question:  what is it about the people in this country that they get instantly upset when they see a dog enter a restaurant?  They give me the impression that the simple presence of a dog is somehow unsanitary and dog hairs will somehow waft up from the floor and across the restaurant to land on their plate.  The ASPCA estimates that 44 percent of all American homes have a dog.  Despite a dog that goes into their kitchen, dining room and living room these people somehow manage to survive the presence of a dog.  In Europe, well behaved dogs are welcome at restaurants and no one even notices.  Only in America does this sort of nonsensical thinking become a large part of what fuels service dog discrimination in restaurants.  

One summer afternoon I drove to the Oregon coast to let Rambo play on the beach.  Afterwards I headed over to my favorite brewery to have lunch and see what might be good on tap.  To enter the restaurant, I have to go through a shop on the lower level where the sales clerk often acts as the host/hostess for the restaurant above.  On our first trip up the stairs I had no problem.  The waiter that met me upstairs wasn't sure of what to do so he asked the bartender.  One look at Rambo and he told the waiter to seat me anywhere I wanted.  Easy enough.  

After lunch I took Rambo out for a potty break with the intention of returning to our seat so I could enjoy one more beer.  Upon our return, as we started to climb the stairs, the girl behind the cash register loudly proclaimed that "NO DOGS ARE ALLOWED UPSTAIRS!"  This caused everyone else in the shop to instantly become quiet and turn to stare at the brazen jerk taking his pet up to the restaurant.  I politely told the girl that Rambo is my service dog and that we are going back up to enjoy the libations.  I took one step and she declared, "THAT'S ONLY FOR PEOPLE WITH PHYSICAL DISABILITIES!"  Oh boy. 

I wasn't in the mood to do her boss' job and train her on the ADA so I simply told her that I am going back upstairs to my table and if she had a problem with it that she should call her supervisor.  That's not the best example of being a good ambassador but sometimes I just want to get on with what I was doing.  I figured if she did call a supervisor perhaps at that point some training might get done.  I have returned to this brewery many times since and have never had another issue.

"That's not a real service dog."

Only a few months ago I had the unfortunate opportunity to go the my local VA hospital emergency room for excruciating pain that was running down from my neck to the tips of my fingers in my right arm.  The pain was substantial enough to keep me from sleeping more than a couple of hours for two nights straight.  Once I got to the ER and got checked in I was eventually called into a room just off the waiting room to get my vitals taken.  Once we were inside, Rambo noticed someone in the adjacent room who just happened to be handling some sort of bag made of cellophane.  The cellophane noise gets Rambo's attention because its the same noise he hears when I go for the treat bag.  I told Rambo to sit but his attention was on the sound of munchies.  So I tapped him gently on the nose and told him to sit again.  He took his time due to his distracted state to actually sit down but he did what was asked.  The nurse had the gall to look me square in the eyes and say, "That's not a real service dog."

"Excuse me?"

"That's not a service dog.  When a service dog is told to sit, he does it 'zip' right away."

My eyes went wide with astonishment!  This was a new one to me.  So I asked, "are you a trainer?"

"No." she said.  But I know people who do train dogs and I've seen service dogs sit when they are told."

"Okay" I responded.  "Since you're not a trainer and I'm not a nurse, how about you stop accusing my dog of not being an exceptionally well trained and ADI accredited service dog and I won't question your credentials to be a hack nurse?"

That was the end of that fun.

     "I can't let you stay here!  What if someone 

comes in that is allergic to dogs?"

When it comes to staying at hotels with a service dog, the best advice I can give is the nicer the hotel, the better trained the staff.  If I stay at a cheap hotel I always seem to get what I paid for, as you will read.

If I told every hotel story I have there would never be an end to this.  So I will give you the ultra-abridge version of multiple stories in somewhat of a rapid fire succession.

Checking into a San Diego hotel, the clerk asked me for Rambo's papers.  I told her that is he not a pure bred and doesn't have any papers.  She said if he doesn't have papers she will charge me a pet fee.  I told her that was against the law but she persisted.  So I gave her Rambo's JLAD ID card and told her that is all the "papers" he has.  Good enough.

"Does your dog have I.D.?"
He's not old enough to drive or drink so he doesn't have one yet.  (I showed him Rambo's JLAD card after getting in the jab.)

"Is that a service dog?"
Yes, he is my service dog.
(Leaning over the tall counter) "Ok, he has vest on.  It can't be a service dog if it doesn't have a vest."

"I'm sorry sir, we don't allow pets here."
Oh, that's good to know. So there won't be any pets distracting my service dog.
"Oh, its a service dog?  Can you make him do a trick?"
Oh for fu......Rambo, wave bye bye to the nice man behind the counter.

"I did not know you were bringing a service dog.  I can't rent you the third floor suite you have reserved.  I have to put you on the first floor in the pet area."
No, you are giving me the room I reserved and as far as you are concerned, this dog is invisible.
"I'll have to call my boss."
Tell your boss I know lawyers.

"I'm going to have to charge you a pet cleaning fee."

"Can you go in and out the back entrance with your dog, please?"

"I can't let you stay here!  What if someone comes in that is allergic to dogs?"

"We don't let dogs in training stay here.  Only real service dogs."

"Is your service dog housebroken?"

"Why do you have a service dog?  You aren't blind!"

"Are you here to visit a hotel guest?  We have waiting outside on the patio."

So much for the industry of hospitality.

This is just the beginning of the misadventures Rambo and I have had to endure.  In my next post I will regale you with tales of the fun we've had at restaurants and shops all over the country.  I will end that with our encounters with obviously counterfeit service dogs and their handlers which is a subject I tackle quite loudly!

Rambo Undergoes Surgery!

It was a cold, snowy December day.   Rambo and I got up early and went through our usual morning routine.  That generally includes taking Rambo out to relieve himself and, weather permitting, we play fetch for a while.  He is always full of energy and eager to play when he first gets up.  He is as much a morning dog as I am not a morning person.  

After our morning play session, I usually clean up dishes and such then its time to feed the hound.  Once he's caught his breath he gets his breakfast.  Between coming in from playing and the additional water he drinks after chowing down means he has to go back out to pee within an hour or two.  

It was cold and snowy out so I got us both dressed for the cold and figured we might take a short walk.  As expected, the first thing Rambo does when he gets outside is to go to pee.  I always try to give his pee and poop a once over every time he goes.  It's a great 15 second health check.  On this particular morning, as I glanced down at Rambo peeing, I was horrified to see a bright red spot in the snow and a stream of blood coming out when there should have been urine!

I can't tell you that I was calm and cool when I saw this.  In fact, it scared the hell out of me and I was sent into an instant panic.  Ok, maybe panic isn't the right word.  It was more of a high state of alarm with my only goal of getting Rambo to the vet immediately and I pity the fool that gets in my way.

Rambo's vet is only a couple of miles away and traffic wasn't heavy so he was in the vet's office within 15 minutes of his bloody urination.  The vet took him in right away.  They ran several blood tests and got an abdominal x-ray.  The x-ray showed two very large bladder stones and the vet said they will have to be removed.  The vet put him on antibiotics, gave me instructions on what to watch for and I was told to come back with Rambo on Monday to consult with the surgeon.  Once the surgeon got to give him a once over she scheduled the surgery for the next day.

The next morning came and I dropped Rambo off at the vets.  I couldn't go home and I didn't want to wait in the vet's office so I planted myself at the breakfast joint around the corner and started my clock watching.

Following way too many cups of coffee, the vet finally called.  She said the surgery went well, Rambo is doing fine and I can come pick him up in a couple of hours.  So I paid my extended breakfast bill and went to a Mexican place across the street for "lunch."  Ninety minutes later, I couldn't take it anymore and I went into the vet's office just a little bit early.

The vet came out and talked to me about the surgery.  She showed me a picture of the two nasty stones they took out of my dog's bladder.  As you can see in the picture below, there are plenty of sharp, jagged edges to tear up his bladder.

The vet sent the stones off for a biopsy to determine what kind of stones they are.  Apparently bladder stones result from different types of imbalances so the stones can be formed from different substances.  In Rambo's case, the stones turned out to be Struvite stones.  Struvite stones are made up of "triple phosphate and magnesium ammonium phosphate."  They are usually formed when a diet rich in potatoes and grains is fed to a dog or cat.  Rambo was on a vegetarian diet because he has protein allergies.  The vet explained that a dog usually has to be genetically susceptible to forming struvite stones and crystals.

The vet gave me a prescription for a special dog food (read: more expensive) that is formulated to prevent struvite crystals from forming in the urine.  Rambo has had two follow-up urine tests to see if he still has crystals in his urine.  Fortunately both tests have come back negative.  I take him in for two more tests over the next six months.  If his urine is clear of crystals at the one year mark we can consider putting him back on regular (non-vegetarian/grain-free) food and monitor him for another year.

Finally they said they would bring Rambo out to me.  Oh boy, he came out dragging his feet and looking totally miserable.  He was also drugged up to the max for pain and could barely walk.  To his chagrin, he was given The Cone of Shame to wear.

All at once I was so happy to see him and so concerned about him at the same time I just sat on the floor with him and gave him some loving until the office staff insisted that I get up and sign their paperwork.  They gave me antibiotics and pain meds for my poor dog then set us up with a follow up appointment.

Once we got home, Rambo pretty much slept the entire first 24 hours that he was home.  If it wasn't for the fact that I had to get him up to pee and to drink water I would have just let him sleep it off.  But now drinking and peeing were a priority for my fuzzy buddy and that is exactly what I will help him do.

After a few day it was obvious he was feeling better but he sure was damn miserable up until then.  He would sit on the sofa and just look like he felt awful.  There was nothing I could do for him but be close and attend to his needs.  He wanted to get up and go play fetch so bad I felt really bad for the little guy.  He managed to make it a full two weeks with the cone.  After his follow up appointment the vet said his incision was healed enough that he wouldn't harm it so off came the cone.  But still no active play for a couple more weeks.

Have you ever tried to entertain a dog that can't get outside to burn off some energy?  I tried everything that I could to keep him engaged but he really just wanted to go outside and run. 

The day he hit the date the vet said it would be safe for him to play again, we got up early and I drove Rambo to the beach and let him loose.  There is nothing in this world that this dog enjoys more than running on the beach and splashing in the water.  He is in a seriously good mood all day long if he gets some beach time in.

In a total act of compassion, I ended up in the emergency room not long after Rambo's surgery with severe abdominal pain.  They discovered I had a diseased gall bladder with some fun looking stones of my own.  Surgery was scheduled not long after Rambo's so I got fixed up as well.  Thankfully, I didn't have to wear The Cone of Shame.

This is not the way I wanted to fire up this blog again!

These pages haven't seen any new word for a few months.  For that I should apologize.  Perhaps.  The truth is, I have been unwilling and unable to sit at a keyboard and try to makes sense of everything Rambo and I have been through in the past 6 months.  I will do my best in coming tales to bring you up to speed.  Some of the things I am referring to deserve their own story and some can be clumped up one one simple title of "Well, Poop!"  We have had many adventures, some good and a few just plain terrifying.  Hopefully that whets your appetite sufficiently to read the missives to come.

Let me address my absence.  I will keep it simple.  I've been preoccupied with various problems in my life that don't bear repeating in depth.  Most of it is probably bigger in my mind than in reality and would likely bore you.  I've also had some medical issues that have reared up unexpectedly but all is well now (as well as can be for a Gulf War Veteran anyway).  Let me just say that an inflamed gallbladder is a nasty bit of business and can cause abdominal pain that definitely gets my attention.  I had an infection in my spine that irritated a nerve that ran all the way down my arm.  The pain ran down my arm and was excruciating. I barely slept for a week and my doctor refused to give me pain medication (for no apparent reason for which I have not let him forget!).  Finally some heavy duty antibiotics took care of the problem.  In all, that episode took most of a month in which I could barely lift my right arm to the keyboard without intense pain on top of my hand and forearm going numb.  

Through all this, Rambo was a trooper.  He snuggled up to me when he was able and otherwise annoyed the hell out of me while I was moaning in pain in his best attempt to distract me from the torture, keep me focused in reality and even put a smile on my face now and again.   A dog like this, you can't buy with money.  He's just a big, black furry ball of love and he never lets me forget it.

Now I have to address something that just happened to Rambo and I.  Frustratingly, this is not the first time this has happened and I'm fairly confident that it will not be the last.

Today I checked into a hotel in Spokane, Washington.  We are just staying one night and I picked a decent hotel with a fair price.  The hotel in question is the Madison Inn by Riversage, a fairly nice place by all reviews.  Previous guests touted the nice service, decent rooms and the quiet location.  Of course, no one wrote anything about service dogs.  There really aren't that many of us, I suppose.  All I know is that when I walked in with Rambo everything started going downhill faster than I could have ever expected.

Things actually went okay until it got to the, "and I see you have a pet" statement.  I politely informed him that Rambo was my service dog.  At this point, if he would have just kept his mouth shut, I would have been okay with whatever he did and would be none the wiser.  But he had to say, "Well, I have you booked into the 4th floor.  I'm going to have to move you down to the second floor {the pets allowed floor].  I asked if I could just stay in the room they had me in and that I would prefer not to be in the pet section as other dogs will distract my dog (and perhaps elicit the occasional bark which really try to avoid but Rambo's German Shepherd DNA comes out when I least prefer it).

At this point I got the "The hotel separates dogs from people with allergies" line.  I've heard this too many times and my response just rolled off my tongue, "The ADA and the courts state that my right to have my service dog accompany me where I want to go trumps people's allergies.  I would like to stay in the room you have me booked in."

At this point, the guy behind the desk got nasty, compete with the appropriate facial expression and said, "how would you like to just cancel your reservation?"  I told him no and if he was going to discriminate that I would gladly call the police to spell it out to him.

He continued, irate, and said, "So what am I supposed to do when I have to comp someone's room because of allergies?"  I told him immediately and in no uncertain terms that was his responsibility and unequivocally not mine.  I informed him that the law and courts have said that the business is responsible for moving guests with allergies as far away from the dog as is possible or desirable.  I further volunteered that if he choses to segregate me and my service dog to a place that I do not wish to go that would be discrimination in which I could raise a civil suit.  I also offered to help him with law if he wished to which he did not respond.

At that point he suddenly became Mr. Nice and continued to check me in.  I don't know if it was what I said although I doubt it.  I think he acquiesced because other guests had come into the lobby and I'm happy to have an audience when someone who clearly has no clue as to what the law says pertaining to service dogs starts to give me the run around.  I am too well versed in the law and my options to allow anyone to discriminate against me or try to humiliate me in public ever again.  I welcome the challenge but it is usually a battle of wits with an unarmed person and they get thrown to the mat in every instance.

The final thing he says is, "I see you are in a King room.  I've given you an upgrade."  I said thank you and left it at that.  When I got to my room, it is exactly the same type of room I booked,  Perhaps the upgrade business was for the audience.  Regardless, it was not an upgrade.

So once again I will have to write a letter to the management of the hotel, whether that is local or national, and explain to them the misunderstanding and ask them to please have someone from their law department please, please, please teach your employees about the ADA and subsequent court decisions that affect it.  I will point out to them that hotels that have a knowledgeable staff never give me any problems when it comes to a simple room request.  In fact, I am often greeted without any reference to my dog whatsoever until the desk clerk informs me that they put me in a room that should be convenient for me to take Rambo in and out as needed.  They frequently add that, if I don't like that room location, that they will move me to wherever will best accommodate my needs.  Its simple and easy to make a guest feel welcome with just a wee bit of knowledge.  In any case, other than his attitude, I can't wholly blame the guy at the desk.  That squarely lies on his management.

I should not have to start off my stay at a hotel with the front desk minion getting irate when I make a simple request.  I'm not just paying good money for a room to sleep in.  I'm paying for a staff that should treat me in a respectable manner as a paying customer.

I will end this rant here and if anything further comes of it, I will update things as they come along.

In the next few days, I will share with you an experience with Rambo that flat out scared the hell out of me that ended up with Rambo in surgery.  Blood, gore and guts coming to this blog soon!

I have to add just one more thing.  At some point, there will even be aerial photography!