Bulldogs and brackets

It's NCAA tournament time here Lexington. You might say it's everywhere, but you can really feel it here in the Bluegrass. It's a great time of year when our Cats are on top: the excitement of the tourney met with the brink of warm weather, approach of Keeneland's spring race meet and relief of spring break for UK students. We've reached a hopeful period between fickle winters and humid summers when our basketball brackets and 60-degree temperatures seem like good excuses to take a Friday off early.

Not that I will.

While I am a Cat fan, I can't deny that bulldogs as mascots have peaked my interest throughout my life. My high school mascot was a bulldog. I've even been known to fall in love with an opposing team's mascot, that is, if it happens to be a bulldog. I dated a guy in high school whose dad had prime seats at UK football games. We once attended a game against the Georgia Bulldogs, a team that travels with "UGA" the English bulldog. At this particular game, UGA was lounging just below our seats, probably in danger of suffering a heat stroke. While most people were hollering "defense" or "hold em," I was calling out sweet nothings to UGA, who plopped down on the sidelines exhausted. I squealed when they showed him on the big screen in his cute little red and black jersey. No doubt my date was annoyed. I remember him asking, "Do you think we came here to see some dog or watch a ballgame?"

And while keeping up with the tournament this year, I couldn't help but notice the prevalence of the bulldog mascot. In addition to Georgia's bulldogs, we've got the Gonzaga bulldogs, the Butler bulldogs and Mississipi State bulldogs (who SHOULD have been in the tourney). With a little more research you find there's the UNC-Asheville bulldogs, Union bulldogs, South Carolina State and Louisiana Tech bulldogs. The list goes on.

But here's the thing about mascots: some can be really lame, obviously unfitting or nonsensical. Think of what you would want your team's mascot to express. It's probably a symbol of aggression, perseverance and pride. Some regal figure or creature that is widely looked upon as admirable and triumphant. It's also nice if it can slide smoothly into pre-game chants and cheers, or you can fit it into your team's logo.

You might think finding the right mascot out there would be easy. Off the top of my head I can think of some animals that achieve the aforementioned qualities: lions, wolfpacks and eagles (I think we hit the nail on the head with ferocious cats, wild dogs and predator-birds). I might even make a human reference, say a "colonel" or "commodore" if appropriate to the team's history. Then, often times, you get the random, the unexplainable, yet all the more coveted by the fan: the Volunteers, the Golden Gophers, the Terrapins or the ORANGE. Yes, it's true, sometimes the most formidable of all mascots are not animals or warriors ...they are simply colors: Big Orange, Big Red. Or, if you're Western Kentucky University, you get your inspiration from McDonald's Grimace and select a red, lump-like, unidentifiable blob, which you call "a hilltopper," not a more logical tiger, bobcat or bear. I'd definitely be more afraid to play the team of "golden gophers" than a team of red blobs.... as scary as both of those would be.

Then there's the bulldog. And to evaluate whether we can use "bulldog" to intimidate another team, I look to my own bulldog, as well as experiences with the English bulldog, the more traditional face of the mascot. And both bulldogs, to my knowledge, have an innocent love of people, a kind affection for the human race. Though some English can be defensive, they are not attackers, nor do they seek confrontation. Most owners I know say if their English or French bulldog had their say, they would lounge on the couch with a cuddle buddy all day. And with other dogs, they would rather play and wrestle than brawl.

So perhaps, as much as we love the grit of the bulldog's underbite and the wrinkles around his eyes, the bulldog is not so much a symbol of "go-fight-win" as a symbol of "let's play." But that doesn't mean we can't kid ourselves into rooting for a bulldog, because appearance is half the battle, right? Either way, bulldogs make delightful little side shows when the game is dull, or your team is getting beat beyond interest. And if they build team spirit, then what's the difference? At least they are better symbols for competition than a crimson tide (what is that anyway, a wave?), a volunteer (lame) or a gamecock (inappropriate). Either way... no offense, dogs, I have to say... GO CATS!

The unfathomable wolf origins of my Linus

The attached link is a story I heard on NPR News on my way to work this morning. As a dog lover, and moreover a breed lover, I obviously think the classification systems of breeds and the varieties of dogs we have domesticated is a brilliant development, otherwise I would not have found the dog that fits my personality and lifestyle so well. That being said, I am definitely an advocate for rescuing dogs, whether they are stray mutts, abandoned breed dogs or puppies born on the side of the road. I hope to have a yard large enough to keep several rescued buddies some day, but right now it's Linus who reigns in my one-bedroom apartment.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124768140

It's hard to believe little Linus is descended from a wolf. His legs are only inches high, his muzzle is so flat he has trouble drinking without getting his entire face wet and there's not so much as a hint of a tail on his rear end. As far the sleek and regal silver animal we see rushing through the woods movies such as White Fang - that animal, Linus is not. Though he's a spritely little guy who can book it when he's going after his blue ball, he more resembles a white bowling ball barrelling through my living room than a swift resident of the wilderness. The one thing he obviously kept from his wolf ancestors was his giant and ill-fitting ears.


So, without getting into too much thinking about thousands of years of evolution and creepy breeding strategies, I am still baffled at how the Frenchie breed, as well as other odd breeds (Dachshund, bull terriers, Chihuahua's come to mind) came to be. How did the wolf turn into a compact little creature with a flat face, short coat and stocky build? What's even more interesting is that people have come to a point where they can classify dogs not only by their physical attributes, but by their temperments. My Frenchie behaves just as many breed sites described him, "clown-like," playful, "craves attention," a "natural performer." He's good with kids, rarely aggressive, but stubborn as they come when it comes to discipline. He doesn't need a huge yard or hours of exercise (thank God!). He's a great fit, and I knew it before I even met him.

But I suppose our tempermental and physical classification of animals can be applied to all species in the world, whether domesticated or not. For instance, a Great White Shark is a loathesome predator, but his relative the Whale Shark is a passive swimming buddy for many divers. I wouldn't dare mess with a Bobcat, but my Dad's Maine Coon is not so bad to snuggle with (when my allergies don't flare!). God's creatures were obviously meant to be diverse and beautiful, and that includes our beloved canines.

But there's really only one classification that really needs to be tagged to my Linus: my lovebug, my muffin, my sweetie... you get the picture. Because regardless of where he came from - wolf, slug, bear, alien space ship (my brother is convinced) - he's a source of comfort and happiness to me. And in my opinion, no matter what breed you are talking about, the species's very unique ability to bring so many humans such joy makes them very special. And whatever version of the domesticated wolf you prefer, Doberman, English bulldog, Great Dane, Lab, Corgi, Cocker Spaniel or a mix, all unique breeds (and non-breeds) are deserving of a place in someone's life today.

Someone to follow

Milling around on the Internet the other day, I came across a blogger/journalist/veterinarian who shares my love of the Frenchie breed. Patty Khuly, VMD, MBA, is a Miami small animal veterinarian who writes a blog entitled "Dolittler: for pet lovers, vet voyeurs and the medically curious." That's me. She's written for USA Today and is a regular pet columnist for the Miami Herald. She's pictured here with her two French bulldogs Vincent and Sophie Sue.

I am grateful to her for a wealth of online pet resources recommended on her Web site that aren't easily accessible through a google search, and I'll be adding some of those resources for those of you interested. Check out Dr. Kuhly's blog at http://www.dolittler.com/.

Remembering Ann Troutman: Loving mother of doggies and daughters

I inherited my undying passion for dogs from my mom, Ann Troutman. Mom was always at ease when she was with her coveted pups. She had a glowing and captivating smile that always came out when she nuzzled her dogs. While she was a wonderful mother to her four human children, she often quipped that her canine "children" never talked back to her. During my teenage tiffs with mom, I wondered if she loved her dogs more than me. Funny how my boyfriend poses the same question to me now.

Mom grew up with a testy Dachshund named Suzie, who passed away when I was very young. Dad recalls mom cuddling and kissing Suzie during their early stay-at-home dates, so deterring him to go in for his own smooch. Mom's family also owned a Beagle, who I never met.

The first dog we owned as a family was a brindle Boxer named "Socks." Mom loved her first "smashed faced" dog, so passing that same taste in the canine profile on to me. Once, Socks bit my sister, Hannah, in a squabble for food, snagging my little sister's lip with a puppy tooth. In a rage, my grandfather attempted to choke the puppy. It was my mom who begged for Sock's mercy, ultimately saving the dog's life.

Many years later, after Socks passed, we adopted a red Boxer named Ellie. For many years, Ellie and mom were true companions. Mom stayed at home many years while we were away at school with only Ellie as her companion. Convinced she was a lap dog, the 50-pound Boxer would leap into my mother's lap, threatening to tip over her wheelchair. Mom never minded this, and gladly stroked Ellie's back. The two enjoyed sitting together by the fireplace in the winter, with Ellie sprawled across the ottoman beside Mom's feet.

Nearly two years ago, Mom's Mother's Day gift was a tiny black Dachshund pup. Little Lucy fit in the palm of my hand when she arrived. From her first day in my mom's house, she because the apple of mom's eye, reincarnating mom's childhood dog, Suzie. Lucy was the perfect dog to nestled down in mom's lap. Even at the height of mom's sickness, when she was only able to say a few words, she managed to utter "Sweet, sweet..." when Lucy scampered under mom's comforter for her morning greeting.

My mom passed away last Tuesday night after battling MS for more than 20 years. While we didn't always agree on other matters, we could always come together and talk about our love of dogs. Though she never enjoyed the pleasure of seeing her grandchildren, she was thrilled when I introduced her "granddog" to her last year.

I am grateful she shared her love for dogs with me, but this shared passion will be only one of the many ways I will remember her every day. Mom was a model of love and patience through her actions and words. She lived trusting God even through times of struggle and doubt. I always think of her grace, her wisdom, her faith in the Lord and her devotion to my father and her children, and strive to follow her model of living for the rest of my life.

Being Away

Due to family circumstances, we haven't found much time to blog. We have actually started on a couple, but will save them for later! Please excuse our absence and stay tuned for more doggie stories... we've recently had several wonderful experiences together that we are eager to share!