The French Bulldog Mafia
I live my life with two separate packs of dogs. Pack one consists of Tessa, Sailor, Ellie, Penelope, Delilah, Journey, Tula and Dexter. Pack two consists of Bunny, Paris and Fanny. The separation isn’t arbitrary, but rather on what I’ve often considered to be a microcosm of Mafia families – two rival gangs, each eager to ensure the annihilation of the other group.
Wikipedia tells us that the structure of a Mafia family is as follows –
- Capo di Tutti Capi (the “Boss of All Bosses”, namely Matteo Messina Denaro for the Sicilian Mafia and Renato Gagliano for the Sacra Corona Unita)
- Capo di Capi Re (a title of respect given to a senior or retired member, equivalent to being a member emeritus, literally, “King Boss of Bosses”)
- Capo Crimine (“Crime Boss”, known as a Don – the head of a crime family)
- Capo Bastone (“Club Head”, known as the “Underboss” is second in command to the Capo Crimine)
- Consigliere (an advisor)
- Caporegime (“Regime head”, a captain who commands a “crew” of around ten Sgarriste or “soldiers”)
- Sgarrista or Soldato (“Soldier”, made members of the Mafia who serve primarily as foot soldiers)
- Picciotto (“Little man”, a low ranking member who serves as an “enforcer”)
- Giovane D’Onore (an associate member, usually someone not of Italian ancestry)
Tessa’s role in the first group would be that of Capo di Capi Re – the elder, respected ‘Boss of Bosses’. She’s up there in years, retired from active supervision of daily operations, and content to spend her days hanging with the grandkids, an orange slice in her mouth. That doesn’t mean she allows any form of disrespect, however – she’ll still occasionally slap around one of the younger family members, just to make sure they’re still aware of who’s the boss. In spite of this, everyone knows where the real power lies – with her daughter, Sailor.
Sailor is the Michael Corleone of our canine pack – the Capo di Tutti Capi. Moody and soulful, willing to exterminate any enemies with extreme prejudice but slightly conflicted about it. A warrior poet, not to be messed with, and demanding of respect. At dinner time, all of the other dogs might will around waiting for their food, but Sailor demands to be fed first, as fitting the ‘Boss of This Thing of Theirs’.
Ellie would be Sailor’s Consigliere. She hangs out with Sailor, grooms her, follows her from room to room, and generally makes herself indispensable to Sailor in day to day life.
Penelope would be Sailor’s underboss – she’s usually pretty easygoing, but if the younger dogs get out of hand, she’s willing to step in and handle the situation. She’s given respect by most of the dogs, with the exception of Tula, who will occasionally challenge her. This could lead to some problems when it’s time for Penelope to step up to a higher role in the family. Let’s hope Penelope doesn’t decide to have Tula whacked.
I suppose Tula would be a Caporegime, since she pretty much runs the younger dogs who are lower than her in rank, with Delilah and Journey acting as Soldatos, and Dexter most definately a Picciotto, or ‘Little Man’.
Poor Fanny is a Soldato, verging on being a Giovane. She can get along with either family, and although neither shows her much respect, they don’t pick on her, either.
Paris, on the other hand, is a Capo De Crimine – head of her own little crime family, which is at war with Sailor. She’s happily whack Sailor, given a chance, and she has beefs with a number of Sailor’s ‘crew’, mainly Journey, Tula and Penelope. Bunny was the former Capo, but somehow or another Paris staged a coup, and now Bunny is Paris’ Underboss. She doesn’t dare mess with Paris’ authority.
I spend a lot of time making sure neither family has access to horse heads.
A Side Note:
I’ll be away on and off for most of March through the first week of April. I’ve compiled a few pre written blog entries, including some Thursday Thirteens, but posting will be sporadic, and I won’t be answering much email.
Since Barb is completely computer-less at the moment, this means very little email answering of any kind will be taking place. I mean, even less so than usual.
Traffic Jams, Country Style
One of the very few things I do not miss about living in Toronto is the traffic. I didn’t bother owning a car for almost three years, because it was just easier – and faster – to use public transit than it was to fight with cross town traffic.
I was pretty sure that moving 2 hours north of Toronto had eliminated that problem, until Friday afternoon. Driving up the side road that takes me into Mount Forest, I encountered a sight I didn’t expect to see outside of Texas – a herd of cattle, being driven up the middle of the road by four riders on horseback.
There were about 30 head of cattle, none of whom seemed thrilled to be heading up the middle of the road, and all of whom were ready to break for it any moment. Their first bolt took them over a snowbank and onto a small century log house’s property. Since these cattle apparently weren’t the four wheel drive variety, two of them managed to get stuck in a five foot high snowbank, and dislodging them took a good twenty minutes of pushing and pulling. In the meantime, the remaining cattle and the one rider watching them milled about at the intersection of two roads, until the cattle finally said ‘bugger this’, and headed off into the backyard of the ranch style bungalow sitting on the corner. They ran close enough past the house that I could only picture the homeowners looking out the window to come face to face several hundred tons of cattle trampling their vegetable garden.
When they were finally herded back onto the road, they decided to break for the other side of the road, at which point the driver of the mini van that was sitting across the intersection from me got out and hat waved them back where they belonged. Soon after, the off road cattle were chivvied back in with their herd mates, and the whole group headed west from the intersection, allowing the back log of fifteen or so cars to get back on the road.
It certainly was more picturesque than the average city traffic jam is… and had me wondering why they hell I don’t keep at least a disposable camera in the car.
I suspect the cattle and riders were possibly heading for Bar K, which is a ranch in nearby Holstein. Bar K is a working farm, and home to the annual Holstein Rodeo, held every July.
If Rodeo isn’t your thing, you can head over to Harriston for the Canadian Redneck Games, which includes not one, not two, but three mud pit related activities (Slip n’ Slide, Tug O War, and Belly Flop contests), as well as the ever popular ‘Bobbin’ For Pigs Feet’ and Hubcab Hurl. There’s also community BBQ, which we’re told is ‘roadkill free’.
It’s sometimes hard to believe that all of this is two short hours from one of the largest cities in North America. Country living is a lot of things, but it’s not boring.
By the way, writing this post has given me a fever – a fever for cowbell.
Thursday Thirteen – 13 Essential Things Every Dog Owner MUST Have
There are lots of things dog owners can disagree on, like “dog parks, yes or no?” and “Spay/neuter – before six months, or after?”, but they can’t disagree with my list.
Seriously. This list is it – the stuff you’ve got to have if you want to be a loving, modern day urban dog mommy or daddy.
1. A pocket full of photos
It is essential that, when someone notices you are buying 75 pounds of organic gourmet dog food, and makes the mistake of asking ‘So, what kinda dog do you have?’, you are able to illustrate your answer with visual aids. Think Jewish Bubbe with pictures of the grandkids, only more fur (unless you own Chinese Cresteds, or the Jewish grandkids have Hypertrichosis). Photos of your dog with Santa earn bonus points.
2. A specialized, obscure diet that no one else has heard of
As mentioned above, no one who really loves their dogs would dare to feed a commercial food, and especially not the dreck sold in supermarkets. These days, however, you can’t play one upsmanship with the cool kids at the dog park unless your pet is eating a diet so obscure that even the park bench experts give out an impressed ‘oooooh!’ on hearing about it. Raw feeding is fine, but raw feeding wild caught salmon hand processed by Native peoples is even better, and Aboriginal made Kangaroo protein based food is a pretty close second. Bonus points is you can insert the words ‘wild prey model diet’ into the discussion, and even more of them if you can answer the question “Is it expensive?” with “Well, if you have to ask…”
3. “Smart” toys
Just like today’s non fur children with their Baby Genius DVDs, today’s fur kids need toys that do more than just amuse them. Toss out those tennis balls, and get your dog a toy that will build their IQ. The Canine Genius line, for example, features toys that connect together to ‘form puzzles’. Today, chew toys – tomorrow, the New York Times Crossword. In ink.
4. Stylish clothing
Gone are the days when only teeny tiny pocket puppies wore clothes. Today’s fashionable dog of every size needs a wardrobe of clothes suited to every type of social situation. Jerseys for sporting events, coats for cold weather, rain slickers for damp days, bathing suits for… umm… lounging poolside, I suppose. For those of us who prefer downtown to uptown, choose from a selection of ‘edgy’ punk rock fashions for your dog, because nothing says ‘Anarchy Now’ like a Yorkie in a sweater.
5. Costumes
Do not mistake costumes for clothes, or visa versa. Costumes are for letting your dog show off their creative side, and can be broken out for almost any occasion. While not de riguer for Dobermans, one simply cannot own a Pug without a corresponding closet full of costumes. Pugs are to costumes what Beverly Hills children are to Petit Tresor – you can’t have one without the other.
6. Home made cookies
Heaven forbid that your dog should have to eat tacky, stale, store bought ‘cookies’ from a box. What kind of negligent dog parent are you? Do you know what kind of additives and preservatives are in those? Responsible fur mommies and daddies cook for their dogs, preferably with organic ingredients and co op farmed vegetables. If you’re a slacker fur parent, you can buy fresh made cookies from Three Dog Bakery, but only if there’s one in your neighbourhood, and only if you can live with the guilt of shopping at the soul sucking, corporate Starbucks of the Pet Supply industry.
7. A specialist veterinarian – or six
Yes, I know that when you were growing up, your local vet was a crusty old geezer who only treated Shep when he was on his last legs. Times have changed, however, and your dog now needs to be treated by the veterinary equivalent of a primary care clinic. One specialist for surgery, another for acupuncture, an herbalist for separation anxiety, and a physio coach for recovering from those nasty pulled muscles your dog got hiking trails on the weekend.
8. A therapist
Like you, your dog leads a stressed out life. He’s still traumatized by your break up, he has issues related to his early weaning, and there’s the lingering suspicion that he was raised in a less than nurturing environment. Sure, you could drug him – there are a myriad of designer drugs that your vet can prescribe, but isn’t that just covering up the underlying issues? Shouldn’t your pet address them head on, instead of repressing them? Of course he should, so you need to get him a therapist, or risk having him resent you forever – and who wants a passive aggressive Yorkie with mommy issues?
9. A psychic
Fine, this one really isn’t essential, but if therapy isn’t working, perhaps it’s time to dig a bit deeper into your dog’s traumatic past – way, way, deep, all the way into his past lives. Was your dog a pampered pet of royalty? A worshiped Egyptian God? A rat catching gutter cur? Find out, with your pet’s own past life reading. Also useful for chatting with Shep, thus allowing you to apologize for the truly poor quality store bought food your mom and dad fed him.
10. Fancy shmancy collars and leads
No self respecting dog parent is going to stick their pet into a nylon webbed Petsmart Monstrosity. After all, collars and leads are where we truly get to let our dog’s creative side fly. Frou frou bejewelled designs for the Pampered Poodle Princess, Spike and Bones gear for the tough guy Terrier with a hip side, or Diamond encrusted platinum necklaces for the dog who inherited Leona Helmsley’s fortune.
11. A Blog
You know that deep inside your dog there’s a budding literary genius, just waiting to emerge. Why not let him express himself on a blog? After all, can the world really have too many dogs talking in faux baby speak about twips to the evil vet? Of course not. Plus, if you’re lucky, your dog will blog like Johann, instead of one of those baby speaking nitwits.
12. A custom selected, dog friendly vehicle
No one made fun of your friends when they went searching for a car with their new baby in mind, so what’s wrong with picking out your new ride with your dogs in mind? If you’ve spent a Saturday on your hands and knees trying to steam clean out the mess your car sick Coton left after the drive to Grandma’s house, you can relate to the wisdom of buying a vehicle that’s free of carpet. But what about crate height? Places to store leads? Fear not, intrepid car shopper, for there’s website out there just for you – DogCars.Com. With reviews of vehicles written from a dog owner’s P.O.V., it’s your one stop place to find the perfect car for you and your Goldens.
Hint: Honda Element
13. Breed tchotckes
You simply can’t own any one breed of dog for an extended period of time without giving in to the irresistible urge to start adorning your home with breed specific knick knacks. It starts out simply enough – one day, someone gives you a tasteful little statue of your breed. Soon enough, you’re peering around at flea markets, looking for unique little items you can toss casually on your shelves, the better to showcase your love for your breed. Oh, you set limits – no chalkware, nothing from post war Japan, and definately nothing made out of netting, but it never lasts, trust me. One day, you’re going to wake up and discover you’ve spent a week’s salary and change for a papier mache grotesquerie that scares children and makes your friends worry about your sanity. After that, it’s all downhill to chalkware and carnival prizes.