The campaign, which you can view at http://www.youtube.com/subaru under the “dog tested” tab, got a lot of notice in the advertising industry. From Ad Age:

To encourage pet owners to drive its cars, Subaru has gone to the dogs — literally.

This weekend, the automaker will roll out a series of spots, created with Carmichael Lynch, Minneapolis, featuring all-canine drivers of the Subaru Forester under the tagline “Dog tested. Dog approved.” Dogs are shown “driving” and even parallel parking their vehicles to tout Subaru’s pup-friendly brand message. The spots will premiere during Animal Planet’s “Dogs 101″ marathon Saturday, with airings planned for Animal Planet’s Sunday telecast of its sixth-annual “Puppy Bowl,” National Geographic’s “Dog Whisperer” marathon Feb. 15 and USA’s coverage of “The Westminster Dog Show” Feb. 15 and 16. Subaru will also air different versions of the spots on its YouTube channel and on several key websites.

Kevin Mayer, the car maker’s director-marketing communications, said about half of Subaru’s customers own a pet, and it indexes higher than most car makers with dog owners. At its most recent annual sales event, Share the Love, customers could choose one of five charities to donate $250 of their Subaru purchase. A large percentage of those donations went to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, of which Subaru is an official sponsor. Beginning in 2008, the marketer started running print ads touting its ASPCA partnership that read, “Without dogs, how would you get rid of that new-car smell?”

Sad note: I parallel park just about as well as that dog.  Apparently neither of us care if our car’s hind end is hanging out a bit!

Our own Dr. Becker will appear live at 9 p.m. ET.

Cooper Lawrence’s show combines expert talk, entertainment, pop culture, comedy and celebrity — all flavored with her unique brand of storytelling. Between Cooper and Dr. Becker, you’ll laugh while you learn on “Dr. Marty Monday.”

1) Get more actively involved in supporting farmers and ranchers who practice humane, sustainable agriculture;

2) Score a major magazine cover piece and another NYT best-seller (both out of my hands, but still … );

3) Work less;

4) Spend more time outside, especially working the dogs.

I’m sure you’ve all noticed that if I manage Nos. 1, 2 and 4, I will almost certainly not manage No. 3. And really, I’m OK with that, especially considering that I’m not sure I know how to work any less than I do, anyway, and also because I love the work I do.

But I have started making good on Resolution No. 1, by hustling my desk-jockey fanny down to San Francisco over the weekend to do a volunteer shift for the food co-op I joined, thanks to Christie’s non-stop recommendations of what an incredible organization of more than 400 people it had become since its founding in 2003.

After spending a day there, I have no doubt that the organization is a miracle of volunteerism and idealism. But I also have no doubt that without one Kasie Maxwell, it wouldn’t exist. She is the heart, soul, backbone and brains of the operation, a non-stop whirlwind of efficient do-goodness who simply blew me away with her dedication and determination. Not to mention her exceptional neatness, a trait I usually find rather alarming, except that Kasie is warm-hearted enough make it seem endearing, not pathological.

Such is her nature that I know she wishes I hadn’t written the above paragraph. Too bad, Ms. Maxwell: It’s all true, and everyone who meets you knows it.

The co-op requires an annual membership fee that’s more than offset if you buy much food (meat, veggies, eggs, dairy, good food and a good deal for the feeding both of pets and people) as well as eight hours of volunteer labor a year.  Yes, San Francisco is a schlep for me (90 minutes best-case scenario, 3 hours or more if there’s an accident on I-80), but I’m down there fairly regularly anyway for everything from visiting Christie to covering something to getting ravioli in the old neighborhood (my late father’s, that is; I was born, regrettably, in Sacramento).

The co-op is housed in a neat little space formerly occupied by a fishmonger, and it’s a perfect set-up: Easy to get to from the freeway, the little warehouse has a freezer, a cooler, an office and a ground-floor set-up easy for getting items on and off trucks. Ample free parking, too, which as anyone who has been to San Francisco knows is  more dear than an apartment with a view of the Bay.

Since you never know how traffic will be, I got an early start leaving home on Saturday and arrived an hour early, about the same time Kasie did. Erika, the lead volunteer manager for our shift, arrived shortly thereafter, followed by three more volunteers. Our job that day was to load the truck with three pallets of orders heading to drop sites up the coast, to handle sales from the freezer, which is open for drop-in shopping a few days a month, and to clean and organize everything after we were done. The  receiving of goods from area farmers and ranchers, and the organizing and labeling of the orders had already been handled by Kasie and other volunteers earlier in the week.

After a tour and explanation of duties, Kasie handed me a stick and a broom, and set me to work knocking down loose ice in the freezer, pulling all the mats and sweeping all the ice and any other loose debris into either the drains or a dust pain. Later, when I took a load of frost down the front of my vest while moving a case of meat, I not only appreciated the importance of the work but also vowed to do a better job of it next time.

The other volunteers and I then started pulling the upstate orders out of the freezer and cooler, organizing them on handcarts while Erika double-checked our work. Then it was onto the refrigerated truck, where we tried to build the pallets “like Tetra,” as Kasie explained, and later watched with  no small measure of awe her masterful wrapping of the loaded pallets with heavy clear plastic.

Throughout the day, local members came by to pick up orders or shop from the freezer or the dry-goods rack. We checked prices, added up the cost and taxes, took checks and issued receipts. Kasie later does all the book-keeping, a job she does “unsustainably,” she notes, hoping the membership dues will one day support hiring the co-op’s only non-volunteer staffer.

The day’s work was lighter than normal, apparently, so we kicked loose three volunteers an hour or so early. Erika insisted Kasie take the rest of the afternoon off, too, especially since the between-storm weather made for an achingly lovely day in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Erika and I cleaned up, loaded up her order (for her and two other people in an area an hour away) and put my own shopping in my vehicle.

We then organized the freezer, cleaned the ice out again, swept the floor, wiped down the tables with disinfectant and emptied the coffee maker. I’m sure I missed a couple of things that I could have done, but oh heavens was I tired by then and I still had to drive home. While it’s not unusual for me to lift 40-50 pounds now and then (chicken feed, mostly), to do so non-stop for the better part of five hours is something I am not at all used to, and I figure the reason I wasn’t in pain the day after is that I remembered my safety training from the “day job” and lifted slowly and with careful, ergonomically sensible precision.

I’ve got another shift to work to fulfill my commitment, but I hope to find time to work even more than that. The camaraderie was good, and the cause is important. And there are always those New Year’s resolutions to remember.

Not to mention: After I bemoaned on Facebook that my pets were getting all the good stuff, Kasie told me that the front freezer contains human grade meat and other products from the same good ranchers and farmers. I’m going to have to get some of that, next trip. Why should the pets have all the benefit? I’m taking some of my own eggs back, too, not to sell but just to share. The co-op has an egg vendor, but my girls don’t produce enough to interfere with her. It’s a small bonus to anyone who drops by that day.

For more information on SF Raw, which is about a lot more than San Francisco or raw feeding, visit their Web site. With more members, Kasie can get a bookkeeper!

Images: What can I say? I love my iPhone!

Among the many options that may be pursued to manage excessive barking problems are social enrichment, training classes and behavior modification methods. These require time and dedication. Many dog trainers offer these services, as do veterinarians specializing in animal behavior. The success or failure of behavior modification techniques varies among individual animals, trainers, behavioral counselors and the dedication of the owner.

As with any behavior problem, prevention is much easier than correction or modification.

A dog’s view of a blizzard: Mid-Atlantic states from Virginia to New Jersey were clobbered with up to 30 inches of snow (and more) over the weekend.   Even here in New England that’s a lot.  But Maryland and Virginia aren’t Maine, Wisconsin or Idaho.  When you’re used to less than a foot of snow the entire year, it does become Snowmageddon.    John from ohmidog has a terrific report on what the historic snowfall was like — from a canine point of view.    Hint:  you want to see a dog have a great time?  Watch him romp around after a big snowfall.  The pictures are priceless, too.

Even among more elderly dogs at the park, the snow seemed to have made them young again, bringing more spring to their steps, more sparkle to their eyes. It made me reflect back to my New Year’s resolutions – to look at things, including burdensome ones like two feet of snow, and see the joyous opportunities they present.

Like dogs do.

A modest proposal for PETA: I never cease to be amazed by what PETA will come out with next.  Last week’s Groundhog Day gave us a wonderful piece of comedy:  Punxutawney Phil should be replaced with a robot.  Loyal reader Valerie Hayes, in response, submits a modest proposal.  I’m not quoting any of it because I’d prefer you read the whole thing.  Thanks, Valerie!

You’ve got to love when karma stands up and takes a bow: Our friend Maria Goodavage at Dogster has a story from WDIV in Detroit that gives new meaning to rescue dog.

Dog pack attacks gator in Florida: And finally, I absolutely have to share an email sent to me by a dear friend (thanks, Lynn).

At times nature can be cruel, but there is also a raw beauty, and even a certain justice manifested within that cruelty

The alligator, one of the oldest and ultimate predators, normally considered the “apex predator”, can still fall victim to implemented ‘team work’ strategy, made possible due to the tight knit social structure and “survival of the pack mentality” bred into the canines.

See the remarkable photograph below, courtesy of Nature Magazine. Note that the Alpha dog has a muzzle hold on the gator preventing it from breathing, while another dog has a hold on the tail to keep it from thrashing. The third dog attacks the soft underbelly of the gator.

Got a tip?  Got a story?  Don’t keep it to yourself.  Send it to me at davidsgreene@gmail.com or give me a shout in the comments.

Photo credits: Dogs in snow, John Woestendiek

Dr. Johnson, a veterinary emergency care specialist and professor at Purdue University’s College of Veterinary Medicine, will be talking with PetHobbyist.com and Pet Connection’s Christie Keith in live streaming audio — a perfect “fit” for this particular guest event, since his “Tails” are long on humor — so long, in fact, that you’d better consider this a warning not to listen with beverages in your mouth.

You won’t just be listening, though — bring your questions! You’ll be able to type them into the chat room so Dr. Johnson can answer them.

To join the chat: Registered users of PetHobbyist.com log in here; if you’re not registered, log in as a guest here and select “Auditorium” from the drop down menu!

We’ll see you tonight!

I hated that you couldn’t do anything with her but stand her up to look pretty, and that playing make-believe with her was about as interesting as playing with a pointy-headed stick. (Which may actually be all that Barbie really is, anyway.) And that was before I got old enough to figure out that she didn’t look like anyone ever has or could without bulimia and plastic surgery. Or before I got older still, and realized that the standard set for large, high and surgically augmented racks on women young and old and the accompanying fetish for the kinds of shoes that would be considered abuse if forced on us by law meant that there are a whole lot of women looking — or trying to look — like idiotsBarbies instead of, you know, women.

No, the Barbie or two that came my way was ignored (but at least not tortured, which still creeps me out). For me, Breyer horses, all the way. Before you could buy accessories for them, I made my own: String halters, tissue-paper blankets and felt saddles, all lovingly preserved by my mother. (OK, honestly: Tossed in a box and forgotten for decades until my mom  told me  in no uncertain terms that I needed to get my stupid plastic horses and other childhood debris out of her garage.)

When my niece went through her very brief Barbie stage at age 8 or so, her parents dutifully threw her a Barbie-themed birthday party. I was chided and considered a Bad Sport for refusing to support that crap, and brought her a Breyer, which I continued to do pretty routinely for the next decade.

It worked.

My smart and beautiful niece is an equine studies major now, a witty three-sport athlete who can lift hay bales and saddles, back a horse-trailer into a parking space sized for a compact car and is more than woman enough to wear  a strapless short sundress and drag the eyes of a couple hundred men off the finish line at the Del Mar race track with a flip of her hair. She rode her horse to pick up her high school diploma, the day after graduation ceremonies.

She is an action figure, not a Barbie.

So what does this have to do with pets? Turns out my Barbie hate and my intense dislike for the Paris Hilton tiny-puppy-mill-dog-as-fashion-accessory craze have dovetailed neatly, if rather depressingly, into a Barbie that comes complete not only with the standard Barbie idiocy, but also with fashion accessory plastic puppies.

No, they didn’t name it Puppy Mill Barbie, which would have been far more accurate, of course.  The model is Barbie® Potty Training Pups^TM, yours for around $20 in your nearest big-box China crap retail outlet.

Puppy Mill Barbie comes with three purse-sized puppy mill dogs, toys, dishes and “papers” for “potty-training” — although the word on the street is that the puppies leak from the wrong places, probably from some puppy-mill caused illness.

For anyone tempted to get a toddler indoctrinated into the cult of idiocyBarbie early, please note that Puppy Mill Barbie is not suitable for girls under 3, because the small parts may be a “choking hazard.”

I can attest to that. I’ve been choking on the vomit in my mouth from the very second I laid eyes on the thing.

See, this time last week, I had book deadlines and other writing projects weighing heavily on my shoulders, and at the “day job” (which I do like, really) they were pushing me to work more hours even as I had asked to work fewer.

I was thinking it was time to quit (well, technically, retire) from the day job, which I didn’t want to do, but it seemed as if my options were limited.

Except … welll … the last time I left a day job was to write for Pets.com.

Little did I know that Pets.com would collapse not six months later, about six weeks after its IPO. The Sock Puppet and the domain name were about its only assets, and both are still working. I did learn something from the experience, a lot of things, really, most it was about not putting all your eggs in one basket. Nowadays, I have not one source of income, but many.  Some sources are very modest, but it all adds up, doesn’t it?

In the end, my status remained quo, The “day job” agreed to the reduction in hours, I got on with the book project after a week of nasty writer’s block, and so it goes.

Which is why this morning I considered the “death” of the Pets.com Sock Puppet to be a mess, not a message.

Thanks, FayBee, for helping me to focus. Good puppy!

Admin notes: I’m in S.F. today pulling a volunteer shift for the S.F. food co-op, Christie’s in L.A. Dr. Becker’s recovering from three weeks on the road, Kim’s heading to Paris (yes, Paris!), Dr. T is recovering from a bout of illness, Liz is giving training classes all day, Phyllis, David, Dr. Narda etc., etc. … Those of you in Snowmaggedon, be careful and stay safe. We’ll be back tomorrow.

Please feel free to leave a comment, but do know that the comments of first-time commenters are moderated. Once you comment once, you’re free to comment without moderation. (Although we do reverse the right to moderate discussions here when need be.)

Now that those pleasantries are out of the way, let’s help some pets rise up (off the concrete), lie down (on a comfy bed), and move out (into a loving home)!

Pick a shelter and donate a bed, here.

Infected toenails, itchy skin, bad breath? Bring it on. Love it. There’s nothing I like more than to put people’s four-legged best friends back together, and see them go home, healthy and happy.

But being a “television veterinarian” is different. I stand up in front of a camera on Good Morning America or the Dr. Oz Show and talk about a medical breaththrough for canine arthritis or how to help a cat lose weight, and it’s not the same. You just can’t compare smiling at a news anchor and pointing at a new pet product to really getting in there and expressing a dog’s anal glands.

But every now and then, one of those moments happens. The kind where you find out a single animal is walking around barking or purring because of something his owner learned from you on television.

That happened to me most recently right around Christmas, when a Toronto newspaper ran a story about a 7-year-old Boxer named Sheena who collapsed at the park. She wasn’t breathing and her heart had stopped.

Her owner, Kevin Eldon, didn’t know what to do, but his neighbor, Kathryn Armstrong, did. She talked her husband Matt through the process of giving Sheena CPR, and he got her heart beating and lungs moving again, long enough for her veterinarian to diagnose a dangerous arrythmia and get her onto medication for the condition.

And then Kathryn sent an email to the Dr. Oz Show, saying she’d learned how to do CPR on a pet from the “Pets 911″ segment I’d done on the show a short time before.

Christie Keith from the Pet Connection team phoned Kathryn, who shared some details on what happened:

I suddenly heard my husband screaming Sheena’s name, and turned around. She was sliding down an embankment, and when I got to her she was gone. No signs of life. I thought she’d had a seizure. My husband kept going, what do we do? What do we do? And that twigged that memory of the show. I don’t think I’d have known what to do if I hadn’t seen it.

I said, pull her tongue out, blow into her nostrils, blow into her airway, and she just came right back. We walked back to the car and we got her to an emergency clinic.

I’d have never known to do this if I hadn’t seen the show.

I want to thank Kathryn for writing that letter and letting me know that I made a difference for Sheena. I know it made Dr. Oz’s day, too.

But more than anything else, I want to thank Kathryn for learning what I tried to teach, and using it to save Sheena’s life.  That’s what being a veterinarian is all about — even on television!

Screencap of Sheena from Toronto Sun.

But if you were hoping for justice or even just tough love, you’re probably going to be disappointed. Via reader Sandi Shaw, from the government’s sentencing memorandum (PDF):

Sentencing is scheduled for Friday, February 5, 2010, at 10:00 a.m. before United States Magistrate Judge John T. Maughmer. As more fully explained below, the Government recommends that the Court adopt the agreement of the parties and impose a sentence of three years probation on each defendant, to include certain conditions of probation for each defendant, all as set forth and agreed to by the parties in the plea agreement.

The government concludes the Millers were at fault, and what they did caused great harm:

Because of the neglect of these defendants, because they failed to exercise foresightand vigilance, the public suffered greatly. Thousands of innocent pets became seriously ill and many suffered death. It is impossible to talk about this case without realizing that the defendant’s criminal conduct posed and caused substantial physical injuries, death, and psychological injuries.

Seems the Millers are still balking at the charges, even though they’ve pled guilty to them — and the government’s not very happy about that:

The defendants pled guilty to misdemeanor violations of the Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act (FDCA). Particularly in this case, the nature, circumstances, and seriousness of misbranding and adulteration crimes go far beyond the misdemeanor label that is attached to them.

And this:

Every factual objection [they are making] can be traced to one or more allegations in the indictment which the defendants either admitted was true or agreed could be used to determine their sentence.By raising these objections, the defendants could be viewed as being in breach of the terms of the plea agreement. In case of breach, the Government is released from its obligations under the agreement, the defendants remain bound by their guilty pleas, and the defendants are sentenced without the benefit of the promises made by the Government.

[....]

(T)he defendants have never admitted that they knowingly imported wheat gluten that was misbranded and adulterated with melamine.

In fact, the Government does not contend and does not ask the Court to conclude that the defendants had actual knowledge that the imported wheat gluten was adulterated with melamine.

But the fact that the defendants did not actually know that the imported wheat gluten was adulterated with melamine does not prevent the Court, or anyone else for that matter, from concluding that the defendants acted recklessly or with more than mere negligence.

There’s a lot more, including an overview of just how and why the Millers should have been able to detect and prevent this tragedy. It makes for some rough reading.

I don’t know what the actual sentence will be, but I’m pretty sure it will be along the lines laid out in the memorandum: Probation, and a small fine. That’s it.

And the Millers still have their friends, too. Plenty of them sent letters (here and here) to the court  testifying to what good, righteous, honest, religious, upstanding citizens the Millers are. Not a word about what happened to the people and pets affected by the adulteration of the alleged wheat gluten with melamine — but lots of sad stories about how hard this has been on the Millers.

Who are, I’m sure you’ll be glad to know, back in the food ingredient importing business already.