Dog Days of Summer....

By Pat Remick

The summer heat has finally reached New England and it's too hot to write. But it seems appropriate during these "dog days of summer" to talk about a recent article that said oxytocin levels almost double in people – and in dogs -- when humans talk to and stroke their dog friends. Beta endorphins and dopamine levels supposedly go up, too.

So, in the interest of science, Buddy and I are increasing our efforts to generate those feel-good chemicals so we won't mind the heat so much. Oxytocin also is believed to be involved in social recognition, bonding and the formation of trust, as well as generosity.

More reasons to love dogs.

I haven’t always been a dog person. Buddy, the 18-pound Lhasa Apso pictured here, was the first dog in my life in over 30 years. He's king of our house now, but apparently that’s OK for the humans who live here, too. According to the article about Meg Daley Olmert’s book “Made for Each Other: The biology of the human-animal bond,” we feel better about ourselves if we have animals in our lives. I'll try to remember that when Buddy wakes me up at 5 a.m. by barking at the wind.

There have been a number of reports this summer that involve dogs and scientific research. My favorites were the studies that found not only are dogs smart, they're smarter than cats.

According to one report, the average dog is at least as smart as a human 2-year-old and can understand up to 250 words and gestures, do basic calculations, and count to 5. The research also shows a dog's social skills are at the teenage level. Having raised two teenagers, I can assure you a dog is far more sociable than a surly teenager who responds in monosyllables.

The research generating the most controversy among cat lovers was conducted by Dr. Britta Osthaus of England's Canterbury Christ Church University. She tested the ability of cats and dogs to retrieve unreachable food from under a plastic screen with three different scenarios: one string with a treat attached, two parallel strings with just one baited and two crossed strings with food attached to only one. All the cats could do the single string test, but none consistently chose the string with the treat when there were two strings to choose from – unlike the dogs. Cat lovers claim the felines just weren't motivated and don't care what people think but dogs are always trying to please humans. (That would come as a surprise to my husband who is having a difficult time persuading Buddy to go outside in the heat for his evening constitutional as I write this.)

Whether you prefer canines or felines, you probably aren't shocked by the results of an Associated Press-Petside.com poll that found half of all American pet owners consider their pets as much a part of the family as any other member of the household while another 36 percent say their pet is a member of the family, but not a full member. Most also admit to feeding them human food, nearly half give them human names and a third let them sleep in their bed.

I do give Buddy human food and I suppose his name could be considered human. But I vowed I'd never let a dog sleep in our bed. Don't even try to guess how long that lasted.

But now that I know there are medical benefits from having the dog nearby so I can talk to him and pet him to increase our oxytocin levels, I don't feel quite so guilty about it.

Arf!

Here's that guest blog you didn't get on Tuesday. I had something else planned for today, but this is so much better than anything I could ever come up with, that there was no contest, really. Enjoy!

Everything I Know About Writing, I Learned From My Dogs

By Beth Terrell

There is an old bumper sticker floating around that says, “Dog is my co-pilot.” As a writer, I could say “Dog is my muse,” or “Dog is my inspiration.” My husband and I share our home with two papillons: Luca (a.k.a., His Lordship of Eternal Cuteness, Light of a Thousand Suns) and our new puppy, Willow (a.k.a., She Who Seeks to Topple the Throne). While they never remind me to use the active voice whenever possible or to write 1,000 words a day (4,000, if I want to keep up with the tireless Joe Konrath), I have learned much about writing from them. Here are just a few of the lessons my dogs have taught me.

Love unconditionally. At first glance, this seems like a lesson for living, rather than a lesson for writing, but think about that manuscript you’re working on. Parts of it are polished and elegant, while others are awkward and rough. You give birth to a first draft that seems like the most beautiful baby in the world. Then you realize it’s a red, wrinkled, colicky creature that leaks at both ends and squalls like an air raid siren. You love it anyway. It’s that unconditional love that allows you to shepherd your little darling through the gangly, acne-pocked stage and mold it into the magnum opus you always knew it could be.

Take the time to do things you enjoy. Even a work-driven border collie occasionally takes a few minutes to gnaw on a bone or roll in a rotting squirrel carcass. We writers should do the same. Well, okay, not the rotting squirrel carcass. I lean more toward a Hugh Jackman movie and a box of Godiva chocolates. But you get the point: balancing work and play is important.

Savor every moment. We writers spend a lot of time in our own heads. I sometimes get so caught up in plans for the future (If only I could afford to write full time…Just wait until that hungry young agent comes to his/her senses and decides to offer me representation) that I forget to appreciate the wonder of creating worlds and people on paper. When Luca is sniffing the neighbor’s mailbox, he isn’t thinking about what he’s going to do when he gets home or which halter he’ll wear to his clicker class. He’s completely immersed in the messages left him by that sweet little terrier mix down the street. He’s living in the now. It’s easy to focus so intently on the goal that we forget to enjoy the journey.

Feel everything intensely. Can any creature express such utter happiness (“ahhhh, belly rub”) or such utter misery (“Crate? What do you mean, crate?”) as a puppy? It’s easy to fall back on facile descriptions of emotion, but a writer who can convey genuine emotion has a rare gift indeed. Watching the sincere emotion of my dogs reminds me to strive to be genuine in my writing.

Be gregarious. Luca loves people. On our walks, when he sees a stranger in the distance, he wags his whole body as if to say, “Look, Ma. Somebody over there wants to meet me!” His joyous greetings elicit smiles and outstretched hands. As a shy writer, I watch him work the crowd and realize that folks really aren’t so scary. All I have to do is show an honest desire to get to know them. (Of course, just to hedge my bets, I wrote Luca into my second book so he could accompany me to signings and attract the crowd.)

Don’t pee on the carpet. Okay. I already knew that one, but let’s think about it for a minute. Couldn’t we metaphorically equate our dogs’ soiling the carpet with the kind of self-sabotaging behavior some authors engage in (procrastination, missing deadlines, badgering his or her agent at all hours, boasting about his or her accomplishments ad nauseum, etc.)? A dog who can’t control his bladder misses out on opportunities to visit public places and other people’s homes, while a well-mannered, housebroken pup may go to the dog park, to a friend’s house, on puppy play dates, and outdoor craft festivals. Likewise, a writer who can’t control his or her behavior may alienate agents, editors, and potential fans. I know of at least one well-known author whose obnoxious behavior at a signing ensured he would never be invited back to the bookstore that held the event. On the other hand, readers will often buy books by authors who have been kind to them, even if those books might not ordinarily be in their sphere of interest.

And finally: Carpe diem, because no one can seize the day quite like a dog, especially one with literary aspirations.

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Beth is the author of the Jared McKean mysteries, the vice president of the Middle Tennessee Sisters in Crime, and the coordinator of the Killer Nashville mystery conference. She's also one of the nicest human beings you'll ever meet. Make her feel welcome, people!

JennieB

PS - happy 4th of July to everyone!

DOGS AND CATS

by Gina Sestak

Well, it's official. The First Family has finally acquired a dog.

It took the Obamas awhile to get around to choosing Bo and, in the end, they got their pet the way most of us do -- because somebody (Ted Kennedy) gave them a dog.

Have you ever actually gone out and acquired a particular type of animal after mulling the options for months? I haven't. Pets have always come to me by other means.

This was also true of the cats and dogs my family had when I was a child. My father found our first cat, Tinkerbelle. This was during one of his layoffs from Westinghouse, when he was working nights as a janitor at Churchhill Valley Country Club. She was a young stray who came scrounging for food at the kitchen door, so he brought her home.

The two cats I have now originally came to my mother as strays. She took them in. When she died, I got them -- kind of an inheritance, the kind that costs money (food, vet bills, etc.).

Dusty has been the most trouble by far. He came to live with me first, while my mother was still alive. He was a nasty, hostile cat, a cat who bit and yowled constantly. I responded with a threat -- every time he meowed, I would take it to mean, "Pet me," and I would hold him down and pet him at least 100 strokes. Lo and behold, he did mean, "Pet me!" He started to act friendly and would even purr, something my mother claimed he never did.

Then he broke a hole through a weak spot in my basement door and escaped. He was gone for weeks. My mother would ask, "How's Dusty?" and I would lie and say, "He's fine." He finally got picked up by animal control, apparently heading for her house, and I had to bail him out.

Taffy was the nice one. He stayed at my mother's home while she was hospitalized, awaiting her return. My brother Joe, with his wife and daughter, who lived a few blocks from my mother, would go over every day to check on her house and feed Taffy. I brought him to my house after my mother died.

He purrs and acts friendly, but I suspect he sees me as the monster who kidnapped him and took him from his real home. They both do.

Anyway, how did you get your pets? Does anybody out there have a Portuguese water dog? Have you ever used your pet as a character in your writing? I used Dusty for a recent class assignment at Pittsburgh Filmmakers -- it was a "moving stills" project, which means that I had to take a series of still photos, then show them in sequence as a movie. Dusty Seeks Enlightenment features Dusty with various religious items -- from a rosary to Kokopele, angels to goddess statues. It came out rather weird.

For The Love Of Dogs

by Kristine Coblitz

I find it interesting that devoted readers have particular pet peeves when it comes to what they will and will not tolerate in books. For instance, some people refuse to read books where children are placed in jeopardy or killed. Others won’t read about grisly murders or crimes set in their hometowns. For as many topics as there are to explore in fiction, you’ll always find a group of readers who are opposed to the topic and will refuse to read a certain book based on that opposition.

I’m a pretty tolerant and open-minded reader. There’s not much I won’t read, except for anything related to history. (My apologies to all the history buffs out there.) But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a pet peeve when it comes to fiction. For me, it all comes down to animals, dogs in particular.

I have a hard time reading books in which dogs are killed or hurt, especially if it’s done with gratuitous violence. I once read a novel (written by a male author who will remain nameless but who is a household name) about a dog who served as a guardian and companion to a woman who lost her husband. The dog was a major character in the book and symbolized the main character’s growth and how she came to terms with her husband’s death. I grew to love that dog. But then the author did the unthinkable. Without warning, in the last chapter, the dog was brutally shot to death. Bam! I was so upset that I flung the book across the room and refused to read another book by the author.

When I read a suspense or thriller novel with a dog involved, I am suspicious and hesitant to continue reading in fear of what will happen to the dog. I’ll even go so far as to admit that I will look up the author’s website to see if the he or she is a dog lover before reading any more of the book. (It’s fair to say that most dog owners won’t murder their fictitious animals on the page, although there have been some exceptions to that rule.)

I write suspense fiction and have done my research, so I know the reality. Most serial killers or criminals have a history of animal cruelty and to explore a villain realistically in these novels, you have to touch upon this area. I’m hesitant to include animals in my books for the reason that some readers almost expect them to die. Sorry, but I can’t kill my furry friends, even in fiction. Thankfully I don’t have a problem knocking off people or else I’d have to find another genre.

So what are you pet peeves when it comes to fiction? What will you not tolerate in the books you read?