danniewriter

Adventures of Chip de ‘Ville (Three Dog Bakery)

chefbrenda1

Hi all. Chip here.

On a recent chilly day, Prue* and I went in search of a new destination for our routine, and as far as I’m concerned, we hit the Mother Lode.

Three Dog Bakery opened its doors about 17 years ago, and Pastry Chef Brenda (above) has been baking each of those years. The recipes are very pet-friendly, no sugar or salt, and there are also wheat- and grain-free offerings.

Brenda says she has the perfect job. She gets to bake but is never tempted to eat the treats herself, although I have no idea why; they are so yummy!

chipchew

Prue says the treats are as pretty as any she’s seen in a bipedal bakery. Some are refrigerated and need to be eaten in a few days (no problem!) and others are good for weeks. (Why would you wait?)

As you can see in the top photo, Brenda also bakes specialty cakes and other treats on request. (I’m hoping for a bone-shaped cake for my birthday this year, even though we don’t know the exact date.)

They even have a party room! (Hint, hint)

The store is well stocked with all sorts of neat-looking merchandise, and Prue says I have to mention that they have stuff for cats, too. (Whatever.)

Three Dogs is a franchise, but with nearly 20 years of doggy-treat history in the ‘Ville, this shop is as local as Churchill Downs. They host adoption events, obedience classes (I must enroll Prue soon!) and pet first aid workshops. How neat is that?

Three Dog Bakery is on Chenoweth Square in St. Matthews. They have their own Facebook page, so check it out.

 

*Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything

Adventures of Chip de ‘Ville (Seneca Park)

chippose

Hi all. Chip here.

This past Saturday was a sight to behold. Sunshine and mid-70s with a light breeze. Prue* plopped me in the basket for a trip to the park when the strangest thing happened: the roof of the car disappeared. It was a bright, warm trip to Seneca Park and then the roof came back.

I’m telling the truth, I promise. It’s not like the elk.

Prue told me that the car roof is supposed to do that, and in fact the disappearing roof was one of the reasons she bought the car. It still sounds fishy to me, but I digress.

Even though I’m only about three years old, the Magic Eye (see above) has given me perception beyond my years. On display at Seneca Park Saturday were many things I find most endearing about the promise of Spring in Kentucky.

It is vitally important to me that I dwell upon such endearments today. It’s 37 degrees out there. (I know Prue’s going to stuff me back into that sweater.)

At the first hint of Spring, the parks are filled with bipeds wearing the most alarming assortment of clothing. The smartest wear layers and peel as the day progresses. Those in sweaters shove up the sleeves and then turn on the AC when they get back in the car.

Then there are those who jump the gun. They dress as though it’s mid-July. Shorts, t-shirts, flip-flops, and heaven help us if the guys decide to take off the tees. The sun bouncing off that much fish-belly white skin could bring down an Airbus A380.

I love the optimism demonstrated by the jump-the-gunners, and the bravery of those who are convinced the next snowfall could be only 24 hours away. (And, by the way, the latter group often is correct.) As temperatures climb back into the high 50s and low 60s the next few days, I expect to catch the scent of burning charcoal and hear the buzz of weed eaters and lawn mowers.

According to the Olmsted Parks Conservancy here in the ‘Ville, Seneca Park was sort of the final jewel in a crown of parks conceived by Fredrick Law Olmsted. Considered the father of landscape architecture, Olmsted was invited to Louisville in 1891 to help develop the park system. (FYI, his resume includes modest concerns such as New York’s Central Park and the Biltmore Estate in North Carolina.) Eventually the Olmsted firm would design 18 parks and six connecting parkways across the city.

Seneca has more than 530 acres and includes an 18-hole golf course. There is an enormous green (well, it’s pretty brown right now) surrounded by a 1.2-mile walking path located between Pee Wee Reese Road and Rock Creek Drive. There are tennis courts and a great playground. Prue and I saw multiple sports on display in addition to these intrepid would-be kite pilots.

kites

The Kentucky Mountain Bike Association stewards a 10.3-mile trail between Seneca and Cherokee parks, too.

This is a very busy park with lots of vehicle traffic so visitors, especially those with kids, need to be vigilant.

I can’t wait to visit again, but Prue’s going to have to get me some sunglasses, especially for those jump-the-gunners.

(*Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything)

 

Chip de ‘Ville’s ‘Pooch Ponderings’

chipantler

Hi all. Chip here.

Various issues and topics on my mind these days. Just when I think I’ve got something figured out, another subject crowds in. Kinda like another dog I know.

Let’s start with one of my favorite subjects, food. Prue* took the photo above of me enjoying the remnants of an elk I felled earlier this week.

Hang on.

She’s telling me I can’t lie on her blog. When did we decide this?

(Whatever.)

To say that I enjoy my food is an understatement. I can clean a supper dish like nobody’s business. Usually, I’m done before Prue reseals the bag or returns the can to the ‘fridge. The aroma of browning hamburger drives me nuts, and I can hear the sound of a Ziploc bag opening behind closed doors and when I’m asleep and buried under a couple of pounds of doggie blanket. Yep, I’m that good.

I’m a machine when it comes to food.

I really didn’t think it was a big deal when I upchucked an entire serving of soft food five seconds after I consumed it. We dogs are pretty practical about such things and I was getting ready to take another run at it when Prue started making gagging noises and looked at me like I had two heads or something.

A “friend” (yeah, right) suggested incorporating an obstacle in my supper dish (below).

chipfood

Some friend. (That’s a can of mushrooms, by the way.) In no time, I shall have a tongue as agile as a giraffe’s. Prue says she expects me eventually to be able to tie her shoelaces for her.

With the obstacle in place, it now takes minutes, not seconds, to consume my kibble. Wet food I get every now and again, in small bites and mostly from Prue’s hand. Silly, but I suppose this arrangement is better than involuntary regurgitation. Maybe you, dear readers, have come up with bright ideas to deprive, I mean, limit, food intake for your pets. Feel free to share them on our blog and/or Facebook page.

Another subject I’ve been pondering is the recent discovery here in the ‘Ville of four puppies left to freeze beside a dumpster near an industrial park. Two of the shepherd-mix babies already were dead when a kind fellow on his sanitation route discovered them. He took the surviving pair to the Kentucky Humane Society.

The circle of hell to which the perpetrator should be consigned is a question for another day.

Compassionate bipeds everywhere were outraged. The fuzzballs, named Samson and Gregory, were instant media darlings. KHS was inundated with calls from people wanting to adopt one or both.

There was so much interest in the pair, KHS decided the only fair way to place the dogs was a lottery among qualified applicants. (Story from WHAS-11, Louisville’s ABC affiliate.)

As a fellow canine, I am relieved and excited that these little guys who had such a lousy start to life are going to find great homes. I sure do wish there had been four puppies in the lottery instead of just two.

But I have to wonder if those dozens of people who contacted KHS, and possibly completed an adoption application, will consider bringing home an adult dog or cat.

Does compassion rely solely on the cute factor? I hope not.

I understand the appeal of a puppy, believe me. (I was freaking adorable, after all.) But I hope, very much, that when Samson and Gregory are no longer headlines, some of those people moved to tears by their plight will follow through on pet adoption, no matter the age or breed of the animal. There’s a great deal of love to be had from dogs and cats grateful for a warm, clean home, food in the supper dish, a lap in which to snuggle, and the occasional belly rub.

For details on adoption and on current animals who need homes, contact the Kentucky Humane Society.

Later, Chip

*Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything

 

 

Adventures of Chip de ‘Ville (Half Price Books)

halfpricechip

Hi all. Chip here.

As predicted, the fake spring kicked us in the pants here in Kentucky. Actually, I don’t have pants. In fact, I only have two-thirds of a sweater! What’s up with that?

Sorry, short attention span. I’m a dog; sue me.

Anyway, Prue* has been looking for pet-friendly merchants in the ‘Ville upon whom to share my awesomeness lest Cabin Fever get the best of me.

She says there’s a chain of amusement parks around the world that touts itself as “the happiest place on earth.” Prue, however, saves that moniker for Half Price Books. (She says the fact that we don’t have enough money to go to Disney is mere coincidence.)

We visited the Westport Road location, which popped up on a search of pet-friendly businesses in Louisville. The store is super spacious and overflowing with treasurers in hardcover, softcover, paperback, vinyl, CD, DVD and more. About the only thing that isn’t used is the stationery, but no doubt some of it is made from recycled paper.

It’s a cool store. Several overstuffed chairs, a section for kids, and even though there’s no overpriced coffee in the back, there may be some unpretentious Joe in the decanters by the door.

Prue has sold books at Half Price before. She says no one will get rich doing it, but if you are more interested in reading books than collecting them, this is the place to go. Gather up the volumes that no longer pique your interest and rotate that stock for some new-to-you treasures. It’s a great way to cut down on clutter in the home.

The carts are a perfect size for me. I met a cute little red-haired girl (Charlie Brown would be jealous) who really wanted to take me for a walk. I like kids. They’re the only people I meet who I can remotely look in the eye without getting a nasty crick in my neck or first being picked up.

As a bonus, there’s a Petsmart a few doors down! I scored some Greenies before we went home.

Later, Chip

*Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything

 

 

Adventures of Chip de ‘Ville (snow fun)

chipatdoor

Hello all. Chip here.

I hate snow. I hate cold. I hate rain. The photo above is representative of my attitude regarding outdoor activities in these conditions: “I’m waiting! Open the door … now!”

I’m not being difficult. I’m being honest to my (mostly) Mexican breeding. For a peek at some of the terrain which bears my breed’s name*

Chihuahuan_Desert

Average temperature, 75 delicious degrees according to an article on a certain free online encyclopedia.

Nothing so clearly reveals the inequality of the stations designated for canines, felines and homo sapiens than the current weather in the ‘Ville. Cats and people evidently are members of a rarified class that “do their business,” indoors. Someone please show me the rule book that states I, as a canine, must go outside to relieve myself.

It doesn’t take much snow to render a parking lot or lawn impassable for me. One wrong step and I’m in over my head, literally. Additionally is the indignity of being dressed like an argyle-encased kielbasa. I must point out that, even with the sweater, my feet and backside are as bare as the day I was born. Brrrr.

In fairness I should point out that Prue** seems cognizant (as much as any biped with opposable thumbs can be) of my challenges. This morning, she donned her winter ensemble, left me indoors and headed out into the elements to scout a location before stuffing me into the sweater. She also carried me through the deeper parts. Her reconnoiter is necessary because we live in a condo; the “grounds” are copious, not our own, and it’s not possible to just scoot me out the back door.

We ran across a simple but clever idea on Pinterest the other day. If you have a small dog and a yard, I cannot recommend it enough. Before the snow comes, scout out a place near the door and lay down a tarp. Post-snowfall, lift a corner of the tarp and voila, a snow-free spot on which your canine may take care of business.

The American Veterinary Medical Association has these tips on taking good care of your pets in cold weather. Give it a look.

We are hoping to get back to park-hopping soon, so keep watching this space for the latest installment.

Here’s hoping for an early spring!

Chip

*Photo of Chihuahua Desert near Sierra Blanca, Texas, by Ricraider, September 2013.

**Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything

 

Chip endorses Grossberg for Mrs. Kentucky

chipkiss

Hello all. Chip, here.

It’s too bad that pets are deprived the vote. There’s no telling how much better the world would be were we given the opportunity to run it. Prue* tells me that, I may be denied the vote, but I can always endorse, no matter the race.

In that case, let me endorse, with enthusiasm, Erica Grossberg as Mrs. Kentucky 2016!

The pageant is Jan. 23 at the Oldham County Arts Center. Currently Mrs. Louisville, the former Erica Thornbury is a native of Oldham County, a graduate of the University of Louisville and teaches Spanish for Jefferson County Public Schools. As a mostly-Chihuahua, the latter really made me sit up and take notice, but it was her platform that sealed the deal for me.

And of course, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, too! I don’t kiss just anyone’s photo.

ericanbetsy

Erica’s platform is pet adoption. She’s a big supporter of the Kentucky Humane Society, an organization close to my heart, too. It was the KHS that brought Prue and I together.

You’ll notice in the photo above, Erica is posing with her canine companion, Betsy, a lovely golden retriever Erica rescued several years ago. En route to Florida on vacation last month, Erica and her husband, Daniel, got word that Betsy was very sick. They returned home immediately and the diagnosis was very sad. Betsy has cancer and is in her last days. She’s hanging in there, though, responding to palliative care and getting all the love and hugs she can possibly bear.

There’s a nifty twist to the Mrs. Kentucky competition. Supporters have the option of raising money for delegates’ causes, and in the process, can ensure their favorite “Mrs.” gets in the top six if she garners enough donations! Just click on the menu below her photo on this page: http://www.mrskentucky.net/contestants.htm to cast your vote and make your contribution.

I hope you will join Prue and I in supporting a lovely person, inside and out, in her quest for the Mrs. Kentucky title. Rest assured that your contribution goes to a very worthy cause, and that if Erica wins the title, she will represent Kentucky brilliantly at the national competition.

*Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything

Check out this photo of Erica speaking to the Ballard Animal Relief Club of Ballard High School about pet adoption.

ericaballard

Adventures of Chip de ‘Ville (Brown Park)

chipdville

Hi, I’m Chip and I live in Louisville, Ky. My person’s name is on this blog but I think of her not as Dannah or Dannie but as Prue (Person Responsible for Ultimately Everything). Full disclosure: She’s keying this in for me and I’m quite susceptible to suggestion so the name could be all her idea.

She’s experiencing keyboard malaise (whatever THAT is) so she asked me to take over the blog every now and again. I’m happy to oblige. I’m full of keen insights in which too few individuals are interested. Very sad.

First things first: I’m male, although to be frank, I feel that there’s something missing from that part of my life these days. (Actually, maybe a couple of things are missing.) I’m a chihuahua, of course, but I’ve been specially blended with some sort of lucky terrier. And yes, my right eye isn’t like the left. Vets (and others) say I’m blind, either from birth, or from an accident or cataract after my debut, but they are wrong. My Magic Eye supplies various and sundry super powers, including amazing sensitivity, intelligence, and I can see colors. (The latter may be mostly because Prue finds it extremely difficult to write without mentioning color.)

I’m three (or 21 depending on which calendar you go by). I like women, of course, but (again), I have to admit I’m not sure why anymore. I am kind of suspicious of men and people who insist on running in my presence. There’s no excuse for moving that quickly. I’m also downright rude to most of my fellow critters and varmints. With very, very few exceptions, I’m the smallest of the crowd. My Magic Eye enables me to see thought bubbles above larger dogs’ heads with words such as “Snack,” “Appetizer,” and “Hors d’oeuvres.” I’ve tried repeatedly to explain this to Prue but she insists on apologizing to others for my vigilance and perception.

The exception to my varmints and critters aversion is squirrels. Those guys rock. I wish I could climb a tree like that.

As a person, Prue is about a seven on a scale of 10. She tries pretty hard but is overly fond of giving me baths. She’s an odd duck. One second she seems fascinated by my poo, going so far as to put it in a cute little green bag, then she turns around and tosses it into a dumpster.

She forgets my name constantly. I’m learning to answer to Little Bit, Good Boy, Bad Boy, Chipper Dipper (eye roll), Chipster, Chipley, Chiperrino, Brat, Stinky, Nimrod, Stubborn, and since visiting family at Christmas, Landing Gear and Tailhook. (I feel the latter two have negative connotations, but she won’t clarify.)

I get too many brushings and too little cheese and actual meat, and she’s constantly worried about my halitosis. The latter actually suits me fine because it’s how I score Greenies and dog biscuits.

I have concerns in a couple of areas. In addition to my hyper-vigilance regarding other canines, she’s entirely unconcerned by strange or loud noises or the parade of suspicious characters walking past the windows every day. She says she appreciates my efforts at keeping her apprised, but sometimes I doubt her sincerity. Additionally, I strain against my leash with every fiber of my roughly-seven-pound being, but still she refuses to follow my lead. I know training is pricy, but I think we’re going to have to make the sacrifice. She’s just too headstrong.

Despite my rudeness to other canines, and some homo sapiens, Prue really likes to take me on walks. I like walks and enjoy embarrassing my person, so it’s a win-win for me. She has this “darling” little basket bungeed around the passenger seat of the car, too, so the drives to and from the parks are pretty dope.

My goal is to grace as many parks in the Metro with my presence (or presents?) as possible, so we’re starting a kind of travel log.

Today we went to Brown Park of St. Matthews, located at the intersection of Browns, Kresge and Hubbards lanes. The park is spitting distance from the I-64 & 264 junction and right next door to Baptist Health. Make no mistake, it’s noisy, but it’s a 28-acre gem snuggled up against the Middle Fork of Beargrass Creek, offering an oasis of trees, water, grass, many sizes and shapes of water fowl, and an atmosphere as American as apple pie.

Prue really likes to take photos, but this time of year, nothing that grows outside really looks good, so check out the Brown Park webpage on St. Matthews’ municipal site.

There are several paths that meander across one another, and the topmost takes you to the old Brown family cemetery. If you are wondering if the Browns were big doings in the ‘Ville back in the day, yes. The property for the park was donated by heirs of James Graham Brown. Nuff said.

The “bottom land” can get mushy, and when the city gets too much rain, it will flood, but the homo sapiens have cleverly positioned benches around the paths that look as though they came from a Bedford quarry, so as soon as the sun comes out and the creek goes down, we’re back in business.

In the center of the bottom land are big white-bark trees, which I think are birch, but as I’m not an arborist, it’s best not to quote me on that. They are quite impressive, as are the manmade stone formations that Prue says remind her of old stone bridges or some such. Landscape Architecture Magazine gave the park a big thumbs up in 1997.

You’ll see the traditional park benches up next to the gazebo and playground where it’s less likely to flood. (Prue said I should mention that there are port-a-johns, whatever those are, on site.) Even more than the playground, little humans love those ducks and geese hanging out by the bridge and causing a ruckus jonesing for bread crumbs. And the park gets some cool holiday lights a few times a year, which the kiddos also love.

Metro Louisville has a great park system and there are also gems like Brown that were established and are maintained by other municipalities, historical societies, community groups, special donors and the like.

While I cannot say in complete honesty that I’d “love to meet you and your pet” at a local park, Prue does, so if you get behind a trussed-up canine that looks like this

chipdeville1

next time you are in the park, feel free to try to say hello. I make a lot of noise but I’ve never bitten anyone … that I can recall anyway.

Check out my backstory and don’t forget to support the Kentucky Humane Society this year. After all, pet adoption is for the cool people.

Later, Chip

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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