Hotel Indigo bills itself as being dog-friendly, and I can attest to the truthfulness of that statement–and not just because they gave us a room at a media rate and comp’d our parking. They have a mascot, Sandie, adopted from the San Diego Humane Society; they don’t charge a fee for canine (and I presume feline) guests; they don’t limit the size of canine guests, and the rooms have easy-clean laminate flooring. We know it’s easy-clean because one of the visiting dogs in Arden’s room last night splashed water out of the stainless steel dishes–provided by the hotel–onto the floor. The only thing I might suggest is that they provide extra “dog towels” for wiping that kind of thing up so you don’t have to use your bath towel. Dogs are allowed everywhere in the hotel, including the lobby and bar area. That’s unusual. Most hotels that allow dogs don’t permit them to actually congregate in the lobby. We had five or six hanging out there while we debated what to order for a late dinner.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. We were there for the hotel’s weekly canine cocktails event, held on its safely enclosed ninth-floor deck. Every Tuesday, from September through December, dogs and their people are invited to enjoy drinks and the view from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. Live music, comfortable seating and fire pits add to the ambience. Oh, and the pool for the dogs to splash in. I’m not actually sure that’s why it’s there, but certainly on Tuesday night that’s how it was used.

You might think that only cocktail-size dogs would be at such an event, carried in the purses of their cocktail-swilling owners, but you would be wrong. Every size of dog was represented, from a Chihuahua to a Great Dane. There were several Labs, including one that was a service dog, a Golden, an Australian Shepherd, two Bernese Mountain Dogs, a couple of Pibbles (hi Ginger!), any number of miniature Poodles and various terrier-type dogs, including a cute little Cairn, as well as a Beagle, a Vizsla, a Pug, a Puggle, a Havanese, two Cavaliers and more. They all got along great, a testament to their owners’ socialization skills, although Harper, for whatever reason, seemed to take exception to one Bichon. Maybe she thought he was fresh. I asked one of the managers if they’d ever had any doggie dust-ups and he said no, this was pretty typical.

The dogs were definitely having a good time. Paper cones filled with treats were freely available, and all the dogs knew exactly what they were. They’d go up to anyone they saw holding a cone and produce a nice sit and a pleading look. I could see hotels preferring this crowd to, say, the Rolling Stones in their heyday. There were no cigarette burns on the tables or furniture thrown in the pool. People there for the first time said they would definitely come back.

Besides the birthday party factor, it was a fun way for me and Harper to have some one-on-one time. We practiced our elevator manners, not barking when room service knocked on the door, and staying for longer than two seconds. We’d go back, and we might even invite Jerry and the big girls to come with. Party on!

The third annual Darcy FUNDay took place on Saturday, September 26, which happens to be my husband’s birthday and is close to the actual founding date of the Darcy Fund three years ago. For the past five years I’ve had a pretty good run of scheduling special events for Jerry’s birthday–think full moon hanging over Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania, for instance–so I’m going to have to go all out next year to top making him work like a, well, dog moving tables and hauling boxes and taking pictures in the hot sun and just generally being my errand boy. He did get presented with a painting of Darcy by artist Betty Turner, though, so I guess it was a fair exchange.

The Gang of Four–Tamela Klisura, Rima Gerendas, Petra Tiber and I–have been planning this event for six or eight weeks. Tamela, aka the blonde tornado, is the general, assigning tasks and following up to make sure everything is on track. She’s not afraid to crack the whip if she thinks we’re slacking off. I think she was Eisenhower in a previous life. Rima and Petra are her incredibly able colonels, hustling up amazing gift baskets from Three Dog Bakery, White Lotus Day Spa, Dawgy Style, California Fine Wine Tasting, Pet Junction, Crown Valley Animal Care Center, Romantic Style, Wild’s Animal Supplies and more. They planned the color scheme, shopped for all the decorations, organized the sign-in and silent auction sheets, and wrapped all the donated items. Pam and Mike Becker and Suzie Cordes couldn’t come because of previous commitments, but they showed up early to help set up. Now those are real friends! Our husbands are the muscle and transportation. We couldn’t do without them.

Me? I write the songs, I mean the checks, kept track of the registrations, rounded up speakers, and did my share of acquiring prizes. They included  books and magazines from publishers TFH and Bowtie; decorative Cavalier items from our good friend and breeder of Bella and Harper Joanne Nash; signed copies from D. Caroline Coile, Ph.D, of her book Cavaliers: A Complete Pet Owner’s Manual (if I couldn’t write this book, I’m glad Caroline did); the gorgeous Cavaliers in Fact and Fancy by Barbara Garnett-Wilson, generously donated every year by Barbara and her husband Roy; a fancy Private Quarters dog bed, donated by Oklahoma dog lover Ann Campbell (yes, I hit up my relatives, too); and a really large and excellent donation of food and treat gift baskets as well as samples for everyone from The Honest Kitchen. Besides being dehydrated and thus the perfect travel food for our many road trips, HK is cool because the company is switching over its chicken-based foods to use only sustainably farmed, free-range chicken from Petaluma Poultry. When it comes to pet foods that are natural and environmentally responsible, they do their best to walk the walk.

Approximately 60 people gathered for our games, speakers and potluck picnic. We’re not a typical breed club. We call ourselves the South Orange County Cavalier Companions, and we’re pet owners who started meeting informally at a Mission Viejo park about 10 years ago. Through word of mouth, we’ve grown to approximately 250, although not everyone comes to every meeting.People have moved or live an hour or more away, but usually you can find 20 or 30 of us at one of the regular meetings and 40 or more at a Darcy FUNDay. There are always a few who have been there since the beginning and knew the Darcinator in person, but everyone seems enthusiastic about the cause, or at least the good time that we have.

We don’t discriminate. Along with all the Cavaliers were a Boston Terrier, a Tibetan Spaniel, a Cocker Spaniel and a pretty little mix who might have been a Lhasapoo or a Cavachon. Someone with a Bernese Mountain Dog walked by our site. Tamela’s husband, Mike, laughed. “Look, a giant tricolor.” The more typically sized tricolor to the right is clearly in, uh, hunting mode. Also seen were a ladybug, a cheerleader and a firefighter.

Pet edu-tainer and my cocktail buddy Arden Moore made her second appearance at the event, sharing tips on petiquette in public. If Tamela was a general in a previous life, I think Arden was a bouncer in a biker bar. How else could she give such great advice on breaking up fights in dog parks and, even better, preventing them in the first place? “If you see dogs starting to look tense, use a happy voice to distract and divert them,” she says. “Change the mood by making yourself the object of attention or getting them to chase a ball.” Arden travels with her dogs even more than I do, so she also had good tips on hotel stays, dining at cafes (hint: don’t let your dog sit in a chair or lick your plate) and air travel.

On a more serious note, veterinary cardiologist Sarah Jane Miller addressed the basics of mitral valve disease, including signs and treatment, and new medications such as pimobendan (Vetmedin) and took questions from the audience about diet, exercise and lifespan. I can’t say enough good things about veterinarians like Dr. Miller who are willing to give up their Saturday morning to help educate pet owners or participate in health clinics so that people who might not otherwise have a chance to take their dogs to a specialist can have the opportunity to learn more or to get a baseline report on their dog’s condition. We hope she’ll come back sometime. I spent a lot of time worrying about Bella, concerned that she would be stressed by all the people, dogs and activity, not to mention the heat, even though the pen was in a shaded, breezy area, but she was a trooper and did just fine. I was still glad a cardiologist was there, though.

I always feel bad for my dogs during this event. I don’t think they’ve ever gotten to participate in any of the games or contests. No “fastest biscuit eater” or “race to owner” or “longest ears” or “oldest dog” or “cutest costume” for them. They’re stuck in the Cavalier corral, begging for attention from strangers while I make the rounds to ensure that all is going well or make announcements or answer questions. (I think they’re grateful that they’re not in the costume contest, though.)  Tamela’s dogs didn’t get to come, either. The English Toys stayed home, and Farley, a handsome ruby boy, was in the hospital with pneumonia, fighting for his life. Tamela had planned to bring him home yesterday afternoon, but when she got to the hospital he had taken a turn for the worse. We’re all pulling for him. He’s a sweet dog and a poster boy for Cavaliers: 9 years old and murmur-free. I just got the good news that Tamela is picking him up from the veterinary hospital. That makes me happy. He and Darcy were special friends, as seen in the photo above, and I’d hate to see anything happen to him.

Arden did a brief video of the event, so if these photos leave you wanting more, here is where to see it. We haven’t totaled the amount brought in yet, but it’s well over $1,600 so far.

When I started the Darcy Fund three years ago, I wasn’t really sure how exactly we would raise funds for it, but Tamela gave me the first FUNDay as a birthday present, and we’ve continued them ever since. I can’t thank her enough for coming up with the idea. These events have been more fun than I ever imagined, and I have been surrounded by wonderful people  who are really the ones who make it happen every year. My goal now is to see Darcy FUNDays spread to other Cavalier groups around the country or to inspire people in other breeds to start their own fund. Together we can make a difference in all our dogs’ lives.

What I want to know? How could it possibly take this long to implement such a thing? Read the rest here.

And now, a plug for a project I’ve been working on: If you’ll be in the White Plains, New York, area on Friday, November 20, you may want to come hear food-safety expert Marion Nestle. She’ll be speaking at the Cat Writers Association conference on the pet food recall and its implications for general food safety. Registration is open to the public.

Just call me the Queen of Denial. I was working last night and my right arm just didn’t feel right. Knowing that my blood pressure was already on the high side, I decided to walk over to the drugstore and test it with their blood pressure monitor.

It was off the charts.

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to go to the ER and have it checked out,” I thought. “They’ll probably tell me that those machines aren’t calibrated very well and send me home.”

So all I brought with me was my cell phone, which appeared to be fully charged, and a 400-page book. I finished the book in five hours (”An Accomplished Woman,” a retelling of Jane Austen’s “Emma,” with hints of “Pride and Prejudice” and “Sense and Sensibility” and a pinch of Georgette Heyer’s comedy of manners “The Grand Sophy.”)

The cell phone conked out at 2 a.m. when I was talking to Jerry–who’s on the East Coast–telling him that I was being admitted to the hospital for observation. Fortunately, I had already sent a couple of texts to the neighbors and my friend Tamela to make sure someone could go over to the house early and walk and feed the dogs. I didn’t get moved to an actual room with a phone until a little after 5, and I waited impatiently for it to be 6 a.m. so I could start calling the neighbors and make sure they got my texts without feeling too bad about waking them up.

So, here’s my advice.

Kiss your dogs before you leave.

Bring two thick books. Or your Ipod or Kindle or whatever it is that gets you through not having anything else to do or that distracts you from having needles poked into your needle-phobic body.

Bring your cell phone charger, especially if you’re like me and have very few phone numbers memorized anymore because they’re on speed dial.

Have pet care directions on file so you can just leave them out on the counter for anyone who needs to come in and care for your pets. I used to always have these ready to print out, but they haven’t been necessary in so long that I’ve gotten out of the habit.

Don’t forget your favorite pillow–you’ll need it–and ear plugs to drown out the Maury Povich show and other dreck that your elderly roommate is watching because she can’t sleep.

Oh, yeah. You should probably pay a little attention to the rising blood pressure.

Five of us met Monday night to decide on games, speakers, prizes and refreshments and get our act together on insurance coverage and park reservations. I have a great team of go-getters from our Cavalier park group who are helping to set this year’s event in motion. Petra and Rima met last week and came up with an amazing list of ideas for themes and games; Tamela is our communications person; I’m working on pet-related prize donations and speaker arrangements; Petra is doing the park reservation; she and Rima are organizing the food and decorations; and Wendy and Suzie will help make phone calls to expand our prize offerings beyond the pet world. Jerry and the other husbands are the muscle and go-fers.

In my book, a successful meeting is always followed by margaritas, so we went across the street to dinner, accompanied by Petra’s ruby Cavalier, Henry. We all first met Henry a little more than a year ago when as a puppy he was left on the doorstep–not kidding!–at our veterinarian’s office. Tamela stepped up to foster him, but she needed a place to leave him for the day, so he came to our house. Harper wasn’t much older than he was–maybe 8 months to his 4 months–and she was thrilled to have a playmate so close to her own age. They spent the day tearing around the house like little maniacs. He soon went to live with Petra, and it’s fun to see him now as a lanky adolescent.

It was clearly the dog dining hour at El Ranchito. Every time we turned around, someone with a dog was walking in or out of the patio area. I do love living in a dog-friendly area. At a recent stop for a late-night dessert in Laguna Beach, the hostess quickly waved us onto the patio with Harper instead of making us tie her up just outside it, which is the usual policy at this place. Harper justified her kindness by curling up on the wall out of sight and going to sleep. She may yet be calming down enough in public to earn therapy dog certification. One can hope.

Until pretty recently, Bella was the dog with the cast-iron bladder. So I think it has probably been an adjustment for both of us. I knew what to expect and have been pretty good about taking her out every three or four hours, but I had a memory lapse last night. She should have gone out before they ate or, since that didn’t happen, immediately afterward, but I got busy cleaning up the kitchen. I turned around to put the dog food up and stepped into a puddle in front of the refrigerator. Good thing I was wearing my Keen’s, which can be hosed off or run through the wash. I’m even happier that I wasn’t barefoot.

Luckily, she doesn’t have any problem sleeping through the night. But there won’t be any more sleepy 6:30 a.m. directives: “Not yet, girls, just a few more minutes.” Once Bella starts stirring, we’re all gonna be outta there.

I’ve been watching and worrying about Bella for the past few weeks. She seemed to be coughing a little more–one of the signs that mitral valve disease is progressing. I checked her respiratory rate Tuesday morning and it was at about 45 breaths per minute. It’s not good for it to be above 35 bpm. She was already scheduled to see her cardiologist on Thursday, but I called to ask if I should bring her in sooner. I didn’t want a repeat of the situation with Darcy, who went into congestive heart failure unexpectedly because I didn’t recognize the signs soon enough. She suggested instead giving Bella a little furosemide (lasix) to see if that helped. It did.

When we went in for the exam, x-rays showed that Bella’s heart was a little bit bigger than it was in May (and that she had a rock in her stomach, but that’s the least of my worries). She was just on the cusp of having fluid in her lungs. Adding lasix, a diuretic, to her other two medications should help stave that off for a while. “You caught it really early,” Dr. Barrett said. “I’m not worried about her, and there’s still a lot we can do for her.”

You’d never know she was sick by looking at her. Old, yes, with her gray eyebrows and muzzle. But she’s first out the door when there’s a chance to go out, plays with Harper until she starts coughing, then tries to play some more, and has the appetite of a truck driver. After I loaded her in the car to go home, she made a break for the front seat and dived into the bag holding my Zankou’s chicken. She’s crazy. I don’t share that with anybody.

The typical Cavalier lifespan is 10 to 12 years. I keep reminding myself that she’s already a year and a half beyond that. So right now we’re aiming for 14 and then I’m resetting the goal to 15.

Go Bella, go!

It has been six years since my last two cats died of old age. I never thought I would go this long without a cat, but three dogs keep me and my checkbook pretty busy. And I have lots of friends and neighbors who are allergic to cats. Of course, that’s not necessarily a drawback. Having a cat would cut down on the amount of entertaining I would have to do since those people would avoid my house. And most of them are better cooks/hosts than I am anyway. Hmm.

But, no, I think the timing is not quite right yet. I’m going to stick to my tried and true method of cat acquisition: when it’s time for me to have one, the right one will come along. Or it will be when I remodel my office and turn it into the perfect cat room, thanks to its high ceilings and pot shelf. Whichever comes first.

But the really fun e-mail was from Larry’s breeder. She had seen my column on poisonous plants. “When I saw in your bio that you still have Larry Bird, my heart melted,” she wrote. In the many years since I’d last seen her, she had sold her California home–at the top of the market!–and moved to Iowa with a bunch of birds and her four dogs. The dogs were old at the time of the move and have died, but now she’s living with a Sheltie who makes sure she gets plenty of exercise every day.

“It was hard for me to accept that I need an ‘old lady’ dog, but Jesse is just perfect. We walk miles most days, but right now we have very hot, humid weather so I’m trying to get him to chill a bit.”

I never thought of Shelties as “old lady” dogs, quite the contrary, but based on what she was like 20 years ago, I’m sure that Charlene is not the typical old lady. I imagine that a Sheltie is just about the right speed for someone with her energy level. I’ll have to find a photo of Larry to send her.

Right now, I’m thinking about feline communication and training skills. Is your cat a genius, evil or otherwise? If you have stories about things your cat has trained you to do or ways he communicates with you, please write me at Kim.Thornton@gmail.com. I promise to check for responses before another month goes by…

The afternoon session, Rehabilitating and Adopting Cats, was part of the Sheltering Track. Christie attended it, too, so maybe she’ll jump in with other observations. Presenters were Susan Cosby; Joan Miller, vice president of the Cat Fanciers Association and president of the National Council on Pet Population Study and Policy; and four shelter cats. Cosby began the session by talking about what cats in shelters need and deserve.

Cats deserve care, comfort, safety. Cats need access to dry food at all times, wet food at least once a day, and clean, fresh water at all times. They need comfort, in the form of blankets and cushions. Cats need quiet time, places to perch and hide, and safety from seeing other animals or hearing scary noises.

Most cats arrive at the shelter healthy. Stress and disease transmission cause them to become sick. Cats that aren’t stressed are more resistant to disease, have a better chance of full protection from vaccines, and are more likely to be adopted and live a better life. So stress reduction is paramount.

People are the number-one cause of disease in cats [through improper handling]. One of the reasons is because they go through multiple housing changes during intake, while cages are being cleaned, etc. [Basically, this leads to more opportunities for the cat to be exposed to germs/disease and, of course, is stressful.] Use Feliway. Set cage/carrier on an elevated table, not a low cart, so cat feels safe. Disinfect any/all surfaces that each cat touches.

Proper handling procedures can produce a dramatic drop in upper respiratory infection cases.

She repeats earlier advice about using disposable dishes and litter boxes and recommends the use of cardboard boxes in which cats can hide, perch, and then ride in to their new home. These reconfigurable–is that a word? I just made it up–boxes are available from petfinder.com.

Cats that have all these things appear more confident/comfortable and friendly and are therefore more adoptable.

Next up: Joan Miller. She described the feline nature and then demonstrated how to handle cats in such a way that they became more willing to be handled and appeared more relaxed, more friendly, more adoptable. It was an amazing show. I could have watched it all day. She’s one of those people who is just so comfortable handling animals and so skilled that you are in awe of her abilities. She had requested four “demo” cats. Some were from a shelter, some were in foster care. None were wild about being handled. One had been in foster care for six weeks, during which time no one had been able to touch him.

The “domesticated” cat does not exist. Cats are still evolving. They can revert to a wild character: they hide and are unsocial and fearful. Cats respond differently when in a new place [the shelter as opposed to their home, for instance. So a normally friendly cat may appear to be unsocialized or feral.]

To understand cats, look at these factors: domestication level, basic cat nature, genetic predisposition, prior experiences. Influencing factors include age, spay/neuter status, type of housing, and time available for adaptation.

To assess a cat’s temperament, allow a 24-hour settle-down period. Determine its health status. Avoid assessing the cat’s temperament at the same time as the veterinary exam.

Cats are cautious observers…skilled predators…territorial and hierarchical. Cats need predictable [I think that's what "pred" is an abbreviation for], nonthreatening adversity experiences to build confidence. Handling sessions, grooming, and exposure to noise and people’s actions. For predation, substitute interactive play. Cats like to see activity.

What do cats want? Comfort, touch, affection, gradual change, respect for their aura of power, to show off their skills.

Now she begins her demonstration with the cats. First up is how to get the cat out of the cage. She picks up each cat quickly and confidently. Rather than trying to grab the cat at the front end, she works from behind, supporting the cat’s front end and hind end and removing him from the cage rear first. She places the cat on the table and strokes him, with the goal of getting his tail up, a sign of confidence.

Don’t let people hug cats. Make sure the cat can see all around it.

The cat squirmed a bit but overall was accepting of being handled. She placed him back in the cage and disinfected the table (after each cat).

Poor cat handling practices can cause a cat to bite, which is automatic euthanasia.

She pulls out the next cat and shows how to stroke its mouth in the kitty version of a kiss. Just as cats rub the sides of their mouths up against people or objects that they want to claim as their own, people can rub the sides of the cat’s mouth to express affection.

Groom the cat, especially if it’s not grooming itself. People don’t want to adopt a shedding cat. Don’t let cats hide all the time. Challenge them with handling. Give a massage.

Here, she describes the cat’s coat pattern, with the admonition to be able to describe what makes a particular cat unique or beautiful. This particular cat had what she called a Dutch rabbit pattern. These cats were all very attractive and all of us, I think, were surprised that one in particular hadn’t been adopted yet because he/she was gorgeous.

Don’t look directly at the cat, even if the cat looks at you. That’s very confrontational. See if the cat will let you touch his belly.

The cat she’s handling puts his rear up in the air for more, a good sign. She holds the cat up off the ground like a show cat. At this point, Miller talks about cat agility, CFA’s history of household pet classes at cat shows, and the adoption event at the Madison Square Garden show. Someone raises a hand and asks, somewhat wonderingly, if Miller is a cat show judge and breeder. She says yes and goes on to matter-of-factly enumerate her credentials. It was an excellent demonstration of what a real breeder is to an audience that may not all have had a high opinion of breeders.

She moves on to a growly black cat with long hair and a bit of a mat in his coat. Miller takes out a comb and goes to work on it. “I’m sure there’s a nice cat in there,” she says.

He goes for an escape but Miller retrieves him without too much effort and goes on to clean his coat with a mousse shampoo. He puts up pretty well with it. No vocalizing.

Most cats like being fussed over.

She stands the cat up. “Good boy!”

Use a top-loading carrier so you don’t have to drag the cat out.

Feral cats should not be in the shelter system. they should be treated as community cats.

At this point, Miller begins to describe how and when cat habits are formed. A woman in front of me leans over to her colleague and whispers “Show cats” in what sounds like a dismissive tone of voice. Umm, no, all cats develop the same way, whether or not they’re show cats.

It must have ended soon afterward because I have no more notes for this session.

Obligatory Cavalier blogging: Twyla, who normally gives me no trouble, seemed to be anxious and breathing hard earlier this evening, so we made a little run to the ER. By the time we got there, she was fine, of course. Had her checked out anyway and will have her regular vet and the cardiologist take a look at the x-ray to see what they think. But I think I discovered the problem when we were in the exam room. I was petting her and found what seemed to be a large mat beneath her chin. Upon closer investigation, however, I discovered it was her scrunchy (keeps her ears out of her food). I put a black one on her tonight because it was all I could find and then didn’t notice it later to take it off. She’s got so much coat that it just disappeared around her neck. She was probably scratching at it to get it off, got frustrated, started breathing hard…. Sigh. Go ahead; call me ditzy.