I think we can all agree that internet trolls definitely suck.  We’re pretty lucky because they’re definitely infrequent around these parts (knock on wood!) but unfortunately, today one of the PupLove Pets experienced some pretty intense vitriol and hate via Facebook comments.  And suddenly, I wished that it had happened here, so I would have the power of wiping those comments away and blocking the trolls who left them.

You see, I’m all for free speech.  I don’t have to agree with everything you say, and I’m always open to a good debate (if it’s kept clean), but today, some things were said about Mako – and Jamie… and Vanessa – that more than crossed a line.  In fact, they were legitimately frightening:

If you can believe it, they actually got worse from there.

So what brought this all on?  A photo contest.  That’s it.  Know how I’ve been posting about that Canada Pooch calendar contest?  Well, Jamie entered a photo of Mako, and apparently that opened Mako (and Jamie) up to some seriously hateful comments.  There are four individuals – all friends, go figure – who attacked Mako for not being a perfect Doberman specimen.  And when attacking Mako got “old” for them, they moved on to the personal attacks against Vanessa, Jamie, Jamie’s mother, and basically anyone who told them where to go.

Jamie was somehow miraculously able to respond to these attacks against her dog with a calm temper and grace, and Jamie – seriously, I applaud you, because my blood was boiling – but I know that she must be feeling pretty hurt right about now.  I’m upset and Mako isn’t even my dog.

So I stole some pictures of Mako from Jamie’s Facebook page so that we can all look at his sweet face and give him some virtual love.  Let Jamie and Mako know that we love him and his imperfections.  So, without any further ado, may I present these photos of Mako… and please feel free to leave Jamie & Mako some comment love below.

The story of Patrick has spread around the Internet like wildfire, sparking outrage against his abuser and uniting people from across the world in their prayers and wishes for his miraculous recovery. Countless news sources have picked up Patrick’s story, including NBC and Fox News, radio station DJs have talked about his tale, and Facebook pages in Patrick’s name have been popping up for the past week, including Patrick’s Pals, Patrick’s Law, and The Patrick Miracle – the latter has reached over 43,000 fans thus far.

Garden State Veterinary Specialists have been working tirelessly to help Patrick recover from his horrible ordeal. Their Facebook page has an album devoted entirely to Patrick, and another that displays some of the gifts of clothing, toys, and treats that have been sent in for him. I called and spoke with one employee who told me that, so far, they have received “hundreds and hundreds” of phone calls from people inquiring about adopting Patrick when he’s ready to go home.

Patrick has touched hearts around the world – mine included – and I’m glad that so many people are rallying to support him. But I can’t help but wonder: What about all the other dogs who aren’t getting constant media coverage? Where are their donations and gifts and homes?

Recently, the Garden State website posted a message stating that “Patrick’s care has been assured through the generosity of animal lovers everywhere” and that they have discontinued accepting donations to their hospital. The message was echoed on The Patrick Miracle’s Facebook page, and met with a surprising amount of resistance. There were multiple comments asking how people could continue to send money specifically for Patrick’s care or how they could assure that donations they were making were being used for Patrick.

Patrick is taken care of, and Patrick has hundreds – if not thousands – of people fighting to be the one to take him home. And though I wish that Patrick’s case were unique, it isn’t. Dogs are starved and beaten and neglected every single day… but the media doesn’t pick up all their stories. And so they wait, still in their cages, still waiting for things to get better, for someone to bring them home to a warm house with a soft bed and pat them on the head and call them a good dog and tell them that they’re safe now.

My wish is that Patrick’s story serves as a voice for those forgotten rescues, the ones who haven’t made it onto TV or into newspapers. That all of those “hundreds and hundreds of people” who want to bring Patrick home will head to their local shelters and find another dog in need, one who is just as deserving of love and affection. And that everyone who had earmarked donations of money, toys, or treats for Patrick’s recovery will consider donating to all the “not-Patricks” in need.  Patrick is a beautiful boy with a miraculous story, and I’m so glad that his nightmare is over.  I hope his story attracts attention to shelter dogs everywhere.

I knew I was getting sick last night when I sneezed about 20 times during an episode of Cougar Town and my throat started feeling raw, but it wasn’t until this morning that it hit me full-force.  So I’ve done what anyone does when they get sick:  I dragged my comforter out to the living room couch, grabbed the remote, and surfed through daytime television shows.

During my channel-hopping, I found myself tuned into a show called At The End of My Leash.  I’m 18 minutes into the episode and I can’t understand how this program is on the air.

This is Brad Pattison, the host of the show:

This is a more accurate photo that I came across during my Google Images search for his photo:

Let me set up what I’ve seen so far.  There’s a family – mom, stepdad, and three teenage kids (plus one daughter’s boyfriend who lives with them) – and they have two small dogs, Max and Snuggles.  The dogs were being babied… spoiled with treats for no reason, dressed up in clothes (mom had a drawer full of dog t-shirts), and were not housebroken.  They didn’t have any basic obedience training at all, pulled on the leash, and jumped on Brad when he came in the door.

The second that Brad walked into their house, he was yelling and swearing.  Is there really any reason for that?  I mean, I get it – you want to make for entertaining TV, right?  Except it’s not entertaining.  It’s bleeped-out anyway.  And I don’t care who you are, if you walked into my house and started swearing at me after I enlisted you to help me do something that I felt I was overwhelmed by, you would be told to turn around and leave the way you came in.

Then it was time to berate mom, who had already been in tears once so far, for the dog clothing.  I’ll admit, I’m not a huge advocate of dressing your dog unless it serves a purpose, but apparently a purpose is not even good enough for Brad.  When Mom said “Max gets cold”, Brad interrupted her by shouting “I don’t care!  That’s your fault for cutting his coat so short!”  Really?  REALLY, BRAD?  So if Max had been a chihuahua and not a Scottish Terrier, would he be allowed to have a sweater, or should he shiver through his walks?  If Max has his coat trimmed short because of matting or some other reason, is that okay with you?  Perhaps Mom should have given Brad the contact information for her groomer and he could take the camera crews to go and tape while he screamed at her, too.

And he was just as harsh with the dogs.  He brought his “pack” to the dog park, explaining that he was teaching the family how a pack is supposed to operate.  When Snuggles, the pug, barked at his Golden Retriever, Brad grabbed Snuggles’ leash, yanked on it, and screamed “NO!  YOU DON’T GET TO DISRESPECT (insert dog’s name)”.  Wow.  Just… wow.

Let’s look at Brad’s “training” methods in action.

I am literally disgusted right now. How is this man even on the air?  What network executive thought that this was a good idea to stream into people’s homes?  This is so irresponsible on the part of the network.  People see so-called “experts” like Brad screaming at dogs and jerking their leashes and they think “Oh, that’s what I should be doing?”.  I really feel bad for the dogs who have to suffer at the hands of their owners after they watch so-called “trainers” like Brad Pattison in action.

Late last night, Jack and I headed down to the parking lot of our apartment complex for a pre-bedtime bathroom break.  There’s a wide strip of “lawn” that runs around the perimeter of the lot and it’s well-used by the many dogs living inside the building, so Jack loves exploring it for new scents left by recent visitors.  As we made our way west along the grass strip, Jack noticed a snow plow about 30 feet away that was clearing the snow in a small section of the parking lot.  He eyed it suspiciously and then paused, ears alert, body frozen, not sure how he was going to respond to the situation.

I told him it was okay, “let’s go”, and walked toward his favourite tree stump, which sits a few feet closer to where the plow was.  He slowly and cautiously started trotting along behind me, and that was when everything went downhill.

The snow plow driver, or “D-Bag” as I have started referring to him, saw Jack and thought it would be funny to spook him.  He dropped the shovel of his truck onto the concrete where the snow had already been cleared and drove – quickly – toward Jack, his plow making a loud screeching noise as it dragged across the pavement.  Fight or flight kicked in, and Jack was definitely choosing flight.

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