STAR SPANGLED ROXY...MAYBE NEXT YEAR...

“The bombs bursting in air,” is a phrase from our National Anthem. It’s the lead-in to, “but our flag was still there.” The point being made was during the war of 1812, the USA were underdogs, the night the invading British bombarded Baltimore. But in the morning, the American flag still waved over Fort McHenry.

ON SEPTEMBER 12, 1814, DURING THE WAR OF 1812, (I GUESS THERE WAS A TWO-YEAR OVERTIME PERIOD), FRANCIS SCOTT KEY WITNESSED THIS ENGLISH, 25-HOUR ATTACK.  IN THE MORNING WHEN HE REALIZED THAT THE AMERICANS HAD HELD THIS STRATEGIC MILITARY CITY, HE WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE THE POEM, "THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER," WHICH LATER BECAME OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM.

Our national pride for surviving that onslaught has been traditionally and symbolically relived with Independence Day fireworks. Even though I prefer the quiet, once a year, on or about the Fourth of July, I have a great appreciation for the safe, carefully orchestrated and professionally prepared fireworks shows. My problem is the illegal fireworks that are smuggled into New Jersey, (detonated mostly on the 4th of July and New Years Eve…as well as sporadically the rest of the year).

I’m certain every neighborhood has amateurs (of all ages) who, in the name of patriotism, risk injury and getting fined by the police, solely to come-off as a big-shot. While I don’t see the thrill of firecrackers, bottle rockets, Roman candles, M-80’s, cherry bombs or blockbusters, I was always grudgingly accepting of it…until I got a dog.

My Roxy is a mutt. She is scared to death by loud noises, (primarily thunder and fireworks).

ROXY STRONGLY DESIRES QUIET SO MUCH THAT AT HER BIRTHDAY PARTY, SHE SPECIAL REQUESTED NO NOISE MAKERS DURING THE CELEBRATION...AND THAT HER YAPPY BFF MADDIE, WEAR A MUZZLE. 

It is unknown why some dogs are so acutely affected. But her case is so severe that the noise triggers persistent, excessive and irrational behavior. Those sounds mess with her so badly that she wants to escape. Nothing can stop her from trying to tunnel out of the house, (she digs like a machine on the material of our sofa, expensive comforters and computer wires). If Roxy was in a speeding car, I’m certain she’d be so desperate that she’s jump out the window.

Studies have shown that working and sporting dogs are more susceptible to a loud noise phobia. Experts aren’t certain why this is true but my Roxy, despite her lack of pedigree falls into that category, (she has beagle and Jack Russell blood coursing through her veins with a dab of Dalmatian and a jumbled Heinz-57 mixture to complete her lineage).

Noise phobia in dogs is linked to bad experiences as a puppy. However, it’s impossible to guess the specific problem. A good way for owners to address the situation is with Benadryl or some other mild, calming agent.

DOGGIE DOWNERS LIKE BENADRYL REALLY HELP.  CHECK WITH YOUR VET TO SEE IF SUCH A PRODUCT (AND PROPER DOSAGE), IS RIGHT FOR YOUR POOCH.

There also is sweater-like item called a Thunder Shirt which secures the dog with a soothing, swaddling caress.  I’ve heard mixed reviews that favor that they don’t work.

Unfortunately, dogs don’t outgrow this fear. You’d think that they’d realize that nothing terrible really happens…but I guess because it’s an emotional response, they don’t. The studies I read conclude that the problem gets more severe with each experience…and in Roxy’s case, I’d say that’s true.

Even the experts can’t agree on whether excessive petting and coddling is a good idea. While some say it helps, others claim that you are negatively reinforcing that there is indeed something for them to worry about.

What seems crazy is that Roxy can hear a distant, single firecracker pop and freak out. It might take an hour before she calms down. Then another gets exploded. Many times, my wife Sue and I can’t even hear it. So we are puzzled by doggie’s inconsolable panting, shivering and drooling, (in the case of storms, Roxy can perceive changes in barometric pressure, electrostatic disturbances and even smells).

Speaking of barometric pressure going haywire, three days ago, the professional Fourth of July firework shows sponsored by nearby casinos was postponed due to the threat of Hurricane Arthur, (I called it Hurricane Chip). The big event was rescheduled for last night. Sue’s friends Rose and Tom invited us to their house to watch the show from across the bay. Even though the explosions were barely discernable pops, the musical simulcast on the radio made the experience far better.

We had a great time and the company was terrific too. Until afterwards, Tom started blasting his own bottle rockets. I imagined some poor dog on their street ready to slash his wrists because of OUR noise. I felt like such a hypocrite but as a first time guest, I didn’t get on my soapbox and complain. Luckily, the stiff breeze was blowing inland, so rather than risk setting a neighbor’s house on fire, Tom stopped immediately on his own.

So please bear in mind when you shoot-off illegal fireworks, it’s likely that you are freaking out a dog. And the collateral damage is, nice people like my wife and I who work odd hours, lose sleep trying to calm our panic-stricken pups while protecting our furniture and other possessions.

This morning to prove how pissed-off Roxy still was, she refused to pose with the wooden pole of an American flag in her mouth or with a bigger flag draped over her back.

ROXY LOVES PLAYING DRESS-UP AND POSING FOR THE PAPARAZZI. SO PLEASE UNDERSTAND HOW ACUTELY ANXIOUS SHE HAD TO BE, TO MISS AN OPPORTUNITY TO SHOW HER LOVE FOR OUR COUNTRY.

So don’t label her unpatriotic...what she is, is scared.  If we dope her up a little more next year, maybe she won't be so terrified and she'll dress up as Dolly Mutt-ison.

#1 DOG, #1 DOG, MY ROXY IS THE #1 DOG

The ATM boys, (my son Andrew and his college roommates Tom and Matt) got the idea of writing down their top fifty Rock-N-Roll songs. Others participated in the fun and so did I. I liked comparing my old-school selections with the hipsters, (even though I knew few of their songs and fewer performers). And yes LYNYRD SKYNYRD’S “FREE BIRD” is still my favorite and personal anthem.

THE ATM, TOM (left) MATT (right) AND ANDREW.

When the good vibe of the music list ended, I made-up my own category for; Top Ten Cartoon Episodes. Through the miracle of YOUTUBE, I was able to view many of my favs, (others were available...for a dreaded fee).

In some cases, my memory failed because the episodes that I had built-up in my mind as classic were less than clever, dull or stupid. A perfect example of this failure was Popeye’s 1942, “SCRAP THE JAPS.”

THIS PROPAGANDA-FILLED CARTOON WAS PRODUCED WHILE THE BOMBING OF PEARL HARBOR WAS STILL RAW.  BY TODAY'S STANDARDS, THE DEPICTION OF THE JAPANESE AND ASIANS IN GENERAL IS SO INSENSITIVE THAT THE EPISODE WAS BANNED.

Some of the cartoons that are still special to me include; Daffy Duck dreaming that he's Duck Twacy in 1946's, “THE GREAT PIGGY BANK ROBBERY.” While competing with Sherlock Holmes for detective turf, Daffy runs afowl of such grotesque criminals as; Neon Noodle, Pumpkin Head, Pickle Puss, Eighty-Eight Teeth and Hammer Head.

AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, I STILL GO CRAZY FOR THIS TOON, ESPECIALLY WHEN RUBBER HEAD (HE LOOKS LIKE A PENCIL WITH AN ERASER FOR A FACE), SAYS, "I'M GONNA RUB YUH OUT..."

In 1942, Daffy gets second billing under, “CONRAD THE SAILOR.” The screwball antics are still funny but, "THE SONG OF THE MARINES” (aka, "SHOVIN' RIGHT OFF AGAIN)," sung throughout, takes me back to happy place in my heart.  And now that I heard it for the frst time in twenty plus years, I'm proud to say, I can't get the song out of my mind.

UNDER ALL THAT THEATRICAL MAKE-UP, CONRAD (right) IS APPARENTLY A CAT.  AN INTERESTING BIT OF TRIVIA, MEL BLANC OF COURSE VOICED DAFFY.  BUT A GENTLEMAN NAMED PINTO COLVIG SPOKE FOR CONRAD. AND COLVIG (using the same voice) WAS DISNEY'S ORIGINAL GOOFY.

The cartoon I wanted to see again the most was 1945’s, “FRESH AIREDALE.” I especially loved the nightmare sequence and the repetition of the line, “Number-One dog.” I liked it so much that in the past three decades since I saw it, I bet I’ve thought about that phrase or made reference to it hundreds of times, (Unfortunately, I didn't hear it today either because I didn't want to fork-out the cash).

IN HIS MASTER'S EYES, "GOOD 'OL SHEP" (DREAMING ABOVE) IS THE PERFECT DOG. BUT THE CAT KNOWS HE'S REALLY A TWO-FACED MUTT WHO CAN BE BOUGHT-OFF WITH A BONE FROM A BURGLAR.  WHEN THE CAT CHASED AWAY THE CROOK, SHEP TOOK THE CREDIT. BUT SHEP BECOMES OBSESSED BY A NEWSPAPER ARTICLE ABOUT ANOTHER CANINE HERO (CHAMP) BEING THE NATION'S "NUMBER-ONE DOG." IN HIS SURREAL DREAM, SHEP'S SUBCONSCIOUS TAKES OVER AND HE IS HAUNTED BY HIS ACTIONS. 

An interesting footnote, earlier in 1945 Warner Brothers was producing a cartoon called, "FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FALA."  Fala was President Franklin Roosevelt's dog.  Unfortunately, the president died before the episode was finished (the project was dropped).  However, a few seconds (a ticker tape parade sequence) of the cartoon was injected into "FRESH AIREDALE."

All this Number-One Dog talk started me thinking. To my surprise, I have Roxy, a worthy candidate for the World’s Best Dog Award, living at my house.

A COMMON HORSE MIGHT THINK IT CHIC TO TAKE A WILLY-NILLY CRAP ON MANHATTAN'S FASHIONABLE FIFTH AVENUE, (TO PROVE IT, YOU'D NEVER SEE A MOUNTED POLICEMAN USING A POOPER-SCOOPER).  BUT TO QUALIFY AS #1 DOG, (LIKE ROXY), A MODEST AND TRUELY DIGNIFIED PUP WOULD NEVER CONSIDER DOING THEIR BUSINESS IN THE STREET.

Roxy will be nine years-old on February 3rd and my little girl is as playful as ever and more affectionate.  So in keeping with the theme of "lists," I have included some of Roxy's greatest dventures.

ROXY DOESN'T LIKE BIRTHDAYS ANYMORE. BUT DUE TO HER VANITY, SHE RARELY TURNS DOWN A PHOTO-OP.

On a few occasions when I thought I was protecting her, she was indeed protecting me.

Once a small wren flew into our kitchen. While I panicked, Roxy waited for the right moment. On her first jump, my girl caught the flying varmint in her mouth. I scurried outside. My pooch followed, opened her mouth and the bird flew away. The potential disaster was solved in less than a minute.

Another golden moment came during a walk around the corner. The owner of a vicious monstrosity accidentally let their goliath dog (Jasper) out…unleashed. This canine whale charged at my doggie. Roxy’s could have been swallowed whole but she stood her ground. She raised her hackles and growled the blood-sucking behemoth into a stalemate, just long enough until Jasper's owner (a beast herself) corralled this Clydesdale of dogs.

ROXY IS A LOVER NOT A FIGHTER.  TO PROVE IT, LAST VALENTINE'S DAY (2-14-2013) SHE INSISTSED ON THIS HEART-SHAPED POSE TO SEND OUT TO ALL HER FRIENDS.

My most memorable Roxy moment was when I heard her give-out an unfamiliar, continual, blood-curdling bark. I thought I knew every bark in her arsenal but this wasn’t the one reserved for an intruder on the lawn, a strange car out front, the meter reader, a flock of Jehovah Witnesses or the Fuller Brush Man….plus she was in our Florida Room, staring out back.

THIS PHOTO'S PROSPECTIVE IS PRETTY ACCURATE EXCEPT THE SEASON ISN'T RIGHT, ROXY IS FACED THE WRONG WAY...AND SHE ISN'T BARKING HER HEAD OFF.

Roxy watches our back like her life depends on it. She has made the yard her dominion and I’m certain she notices every nuance. During her maniacal wailing, my presence wasn't reassuring enough.  My "daughter" stayed in a vibrating state of exasperation even when I declared that everything was okay. Through it all, her riveted focus remained steadfast.

It was March so the leaves from the barren trees had already been raked and disposed of. The only hiding spot I couldn’t see was the tiny sliver of space behind the shed, (see photo above). I was satisfied that Big Foot, a hippopotamus or a T-Rex hadn’t invaded my property. I was buried..as my puppy continued to bark, yelp and squeal in terror.

I got on one knee to see if I was overlooking something. But to my surprise (shock), I was “under-looking.” Because from her lower vantage point, all I could do was look up. And there it was, high up in the tree behind my shed, (about a hundred feet away), a hawk.

This menacing bastard was so huge that it looked like it was on a steady diet of steroids and an avian version of human growth hormones. If its girth wasn’t intimidating enough when it flapped its wings, it looked like it had eaten a handful of amphetamines and washed it down with a can of Red Bull.

I stood up in awe. Together with Roxy we admired this king of the Galloway skies. Suddenly, the great brown bird took off. It swooped down, soared under the canopy of trees and zoomed like a Kamikaze directly at me and my dog. To underscore the threat, while within the safety of our Plexiglas-walled addition, I flinched from this strafing.  I was still breathing heavy as, at the last terrifying second, the hawk pulled up and presumably flew over my house.

Those examples alone should have won Roxy the Number-One Dog Award. But she has far more to offer. One of my great joys was watching her chase squirrels in the backyard. I pity the fool rodent that she catches because despite all her love, there are nine-years of frustration behind all those fruitless chases.

MR. T WAS BORN IN 1952 AS LAURENCE TUREAUD.  IN HIS ROLE AS CLUBBER LANG, HE MADE THE CATCHPHRASE, "I PITY THE FOOL," POPULAR IN THE 1982 MOVIE, "ROCKY III."

In the past, one of the treats I liked to give Roxy was an occasional Sunday romp through the fenced-in ball fields, at the local middle school. Free from the restraints of our nice-sized backyard, it's a thing of beauty to watch Roxy run this colossal open range.

About five years ago, on a frosty January day, this privilege suddenly ended, (as did her Number-One Dog status) when my little genius rolled in another dog’s droppings, (thank goodness she wasn't with us on Fifth Avenue).

My wife Sue wasn’t around to share in my delight. So without the luxury of my outdoor hose, I had to drag my newly nicknamed Muttzilla into her least favorite place in the world, the tub. It was like a WWF caged fight to the death, until I washed the pudding-like shit stuff out of her fur, (thus requiring an unscheduled, precautionary shower for myself).

THIS ESCAPADE ALSO COST MUTTZILLA IN HER MOST VULNERABLE SPOT, NO SITTING WITH US AT THE DINNER TABLE...FOR ONE YEAR!

Last week, in the heart of the holiday season, this whole Number-One Dog Award concept resurfaced. I felt sorry that I punished Roxy, by taking away her freedom to run, (as well as my great joy in watching her).

ROXY IS A FOUR-LEGGED, GOOD CHEER MACHINE. WHO CAN SAY NO TO THIS FACE?

So it was my aim to reward her loyalty, friendship and sweet, lovable nature...and hook her up today, with a fun-run at the middle school.

But alas, I woke yesterday morning to the tragic news that in the sanctity of our backyard, Muttzilla's intellect short-circuited, causing her to roll in her own fecal matter. Sue alone had the displeasure of tourturing the dog and herself as she hauled the former Number-One Dog hopeful into the dungeon-like tub, (Sue took an unscheduled shower afterwards too).

It doesn't matter if you call my dog, Roxy, Muttzilla or Little Lady Frauntleroy.  And it also doesn't matter if she isn't the best dog in the world or even the country...she'll always be the Number-One Dog at my house.  But the next time she rolls in poop, I say it's her brother's turn to wash it off...thus giving him and his college buddies fodder for, a Least Favorite Activity list.

LIKE A NORMAN ROCKWELL PAINTING, NOTHING IS MORE HEART-WARMING THAN THE LOVE BETWEEN A BOY AND HIS DOG.

Maybe it's a good time for everyone to make a list of their dog's (any pet's) greatest moments. 

In the mean time Andrew me boy, get ready to take an unscheduled shower.

ROXY'S BIRTHDAY

Our dog Roxy turned 2 on February 3, 2007.
She was primarily gotten for Andrew but after a short time, it became clear that she was mommy's girl. Nevertheless she is a great and lovable pooch for all of us.

Roxy's best trait is being a watchdog. She reacts to strange cars outside as well as strange people...apparently our street attracts a lot of strange people. Beyond that, she is willing to go to war to protect us. Although she is usually pretty smart, she tends to attack the person GETTING attacked. Because of that Andrew has learned to NOT call her when I pounce on him. Therefore due to this tendency away from genius, she has earned the nickname Blondie.

Our pup is also social. Her best friend up the street is Maddie (a corgi) but Roxy enjoys sniffing around with the other dogs in the neighborhood too. However, she is snobby to Mickey the yappy and hyper-active yorkie in the cul-du-sac. And it should be noted that she has singled out...and despises Ernie the mutt. Maybe she got the negative vibe from me because Ernie's owner is a ...xxxCENSOREDxxx...less than desirable neighbor.

Additionally, for those of you who have graced our threshold, you know how Roxy welcomes...if not over welcomes our guests. She really is friendly but there is one group, that she is completely prejudiced towards...and that's squirrels. She must have had some bad experiences with them before we adopted her because when she sees one trespass in her domain (our backyard) she goes crazy. I bet if a genie granted her one wish, it would be flight, so she could get up after them in the tree. As evidenced by her attack-mode reaction to Ernie, I can picture the squirrel fur flying...and it wouldn't be pretty.

Speaking of not being pretty, Roxy doesn't like going to the groomer and especially hates being bathed...getting wet is torture and the pet store staff have to muzzle her. Even halfway there in our car, she seems to sense where she's going and goes ballistic.
Now that Andrew and I both have our web-pages up, Roxy wants to get one going too. She aspires to be a syndicated Hollywood canine gossip columnist. Please make comments to me after you read her Top Ten list so I can relay them to her...

"THE POOP on CELEBRITY DOGS."

#10 RIN TIN TIN.........An inspiration to Evel Knievel, this dare-devil was labeled a loose cannon in "Variety" magazine. His last and nearly fatal stunt occurred in an alley behind a Bel-Air party, when, to impress a poodle, he leaped into a dumpster and ate chocolate. If it wasn't for a sharp EMT unit, his paw print wouldn't be forever enshrined in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater.

#9 SPUDS McKENZIE.......Actually a female dominatrix named Fifi. She made far more dog biscuits in that avocation that she did from her short stint in show-biz. Her clientele included Duke from the "BEVERLY HILLBILLIES" as well as Droopy and Underdog. It should be noted that she never did her own stunts, however on several occasions she had her directors, rolling over, begging and playing dead.

#8 SNOOPY.........Able to mark his territory from the sky, Snoopy actually WAS a German WWI ace. He came to the U. S. and got into silent movies after the war. When talkies came into vogue, he attended UCLA until he learned to get the ethnic accent out of his bark. Snoopy was still making Charlie Brown holiday specials until the age of 83, (which is impressive enough but in dog years, he was an incredible 581 years old).

#7 PLUTO.........It broke Walt Disney's heart to find out that Pluto was really from another planet. During the McCarthy era, Pluto was singled out by the House on Unamerican Activities and he never worked again-- until, he got massive plastic surgery, changed his schtick and re-emerged both literally and figuratively as Goofy.

#6 The CHIHUAHUA from TACO BELL......Regardless of the bad press and the urban legends that circulated for years about him, he is NOT an illegal alien and his real name isn't EL MATADOR. His name is Joe Bainbridge and he's originally from Levittown. In the late 50's, he was working as a barker at a carnival in San Clemente when he was "discovered." Now considered the Lon Chaney of dog actors, his mastery of make-up and his ability to do a wide range of voices got him work in difficult to cast roles as well as cartoons. He is best known from his recurring appearances on the "ED SULLIVAN SHOW" as the Italian mouse, Topo Giggio.

#5 OLD YELLER.......The fraternal twin of Mutley from the "DICK DASTARDLY SHOW." His one and only movie appearance was biographical. However, due to his sexually explicit lifestyle, the script bypassed the issue of his syphilis and was replaced with the more socially accepted, rabies. If you're observant, you'll notice his unsteady gait throughout the film due to him being blind. Up until his untimely death in 1961, he had scratched out his own niche doing voice-over work in Alpo commercials.

#4 McGRUFF THE CRIME DOG........A. K. A. the George Hamilton of canine thespians. McGruff never landed any significant roles but because of his startling good looks, he was quite a ladies man. However, now that he is well beyond retire age and still working...the starlet pups he takes home are shocked and gravely disappointed that he farts and can be incontinent during their especially short sessions in his crate.

#3 PEETIE from the LITTLE RASCALS...Wrongly hated kids due to a freak Frisbee injury that led to the loss of his tail. Although he thrived with the prosthetic one that he wore when making pictures, he never overcame the inner angst which led to drinking...toilet water. Despite sporadic psychological help, the TWA (Toilet Water Anonymous) meetings with Niel from "TOPPER," plus medication, Peetie's personal spiral decline was acute and well documented in the tabloids.

#2 MR. PEABODY........Had been with the K-9 unit assigned to LAX as a drug sniffing specialist. When he let Jay Ward and his 12 kilos of smack pass, the producer rewarded him with a pat on the head and a couple of cameos on the "ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE SHOW." From that success, he landed his own show with that kid Sherman. After living a secluded life with his wife Princess, Peabody was lured out of retirement in the mid-90's to star as Ren Hoek, in the highly acclaimed TV show "REN AND STIMPY." At the 2005 Oscar's, Peabody won a lifetime achievement award which centered on his 1980 appearance in "RAGING BULLWINKLE" as one of Jake LaMotta's wife's lovers.

AND AT NUMBER ONE-- LASSIE................Roxy's one word for her is, "BITCH'
Next time you're in the neighborhood, feel free to stop by and wish Roxy a belated happy birthday.