Pear
pips, the kernels of plums, peaches and apricots, apple
core pips (contain cyanogenic glycosides resulting in cyanide
poisoning)
Potato
peelings and green looking potatoes
Rhubarb
leaves
Moldy/spoiled
foods
Alcohol
Yeast
dough
Coffee
grounds, beans & tea (caffeine)
Hops
(used in home brewing)
Tomato
leaves & stems (green parts)
Broccoli
(in large amounts)
Raisins
and grapes
Cigarettes,
tobacco, cigars
What about
Cocoa Mulch?
No question
about it, chocolate and other products made from cacao beans
— e.g., Cocoa
Mulch — contain substances toxic to certain animals,
including both dogs and cats. And the main culprit is indeed
theobromine,
a caffeine-like chemical which acts as a mild diuretic and
stimulant in human beings but is poisonous to animals less
well equipped to metabolize it.
Cocoa
mulch, which consists mainly of cacao bean shells, contains
a much higher concentration of theobromine than chocolate
processed for human consumption. Dogs are attracted to the
scent and in documented
cases have eaten the stuff, leading to vomiting, diarrhea,
trembling, seizures and, in some instances, death. While it's
equally toxic to cats, veterinarians say they are less likely
to ingest cocoa products and therefore less at risk.
If you
suspect your dog may have eaten cocoa mulch, the ASPCA recommends
contacting your veterinarian immediately or calling the Animal
Poison Control Center at 1-888-426-4435 for expert advice.
Sally,
a rescue from an unfortunate impoundment at Anti-Cruelty;
first came to Urban Out Sitters in the Summer of 2003. An
eighty-four year young Chihuahua, with an opulent personality;
spends her time with play groups, patrols the office, and
requires a short nap from time to time. In the evening, she
writes her own pet advice column "Say
It, Sally!®".
If
you'll be gone during the holiday season, remove any decorations,
gifts, or other items that may be within your pet's reach.
Although he may not be the type to chew on things while
you're around, your pet may get bored in your absence
and sink his teeth into items that may cause health problems.
Dear
Site Hound,
Is
one year in a dog's life really equal to seven human
years?
- Melissa - Cincinnati, OH
Dear
Melissa,
Considering most of us have had years when we've lived
enough for ten, I'm not so sure the "one year equals
seven" idea is always so accurate. But, never fear…DogAge
is here, where you can find out how old your buddy is
in human terms!
You'll
answer questions about your dog's weight, nutrition,
exercise activities, behavior, and safety. Some of the
information they ask for may seem a bit personal (or
would that be dogonal?) but don't despair. Every step
of the way the experts at DogAge will let you know how
that info helps as they determine your dog's age.
After
you finish the test, you'll find out just how old your
furry friend is in human terms. You'll also learn what
you're doing right and what you might want to change
to keep him young. You'll get a list of ways to help
keep that bounce in his step and a section that answers
questions you may have about some common doggy health
questions. So now, off to the test…no studying
required!
At last
I find this new dog perched upon a hard and narrow chair.
Half her body hangs beyond precariously. She's almost sliding
to the floor. This is the Chair that Nobody Wants!
Smokey disdains to care about this awful chair. She lets her
rival slip and slide ignominiously, ignoring all her awkwardness
and trials as Abigail, in resignation, tries
to get securely
settled on this most unsuitable chair. Smokey
walks on by with cool superiority, as if she's thinking with jealous
satisfaction, "Let my rival slip and slide if I have to tolerate
this bitch inside."
At last I
bring up cushions for the floor. But now, even this new place
never before available, seems to Smokey to be rightfully hers.
She comes and pounces on the cushions, claiming the space. I push
her away, announcing, "This is for Abigail." Reluctantly,
Smokey backs off deferring not to Abigail, but to me. She then
asserts dominion by ignoring the lowly cushions and returning
to her seat of supreme prominence on the wide, luxurious couch,
with the soft, familiar pillows.
Abigail never
tries again for a better chair.
Sometimes
I find the seat on the Chair that Nobody Wants warm from
her body. Other times, she slinks to her cushions, grateful to
have a place, any place at all, in the hierarchy of things. She
knows she's the New Dog, the Outsider, the one with no power.
I cannot fix it or make it fair. She lives in the dog world of
territories seized and guarded and not shared equally. And then
I realize we all live in that world. And we all must find some
chair that belongs to us alone, a chair we can defend from all
the world.
Do you
have a great pet story?
If so, we'd
like to hear from you! We're looking for stories about funny pets,
lovable pets, pet heroes, and more. Email
us with your story and we may put it in our next newsletter.
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