Snug as a Bug...

While taking photos this weekend, I caught my friend’s Doxie Iris right after she crawled into the blankets on the futon. To me the image epitomized the saying, "Snug as a bug in a rug," which I can remember my mother telling me when she tucked me into bed, along with, "Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite."

"Snug as a bug" implies a sense of great safety, comfort, and contentment. And, apparently, the phrase has been around for centuries.

The "as X as a Y" format of the saying is common in the English language. The "X" in question invariably refers to a property that "Y" typically possesses. When it comes to the snug bug, it’s hard to imagine a place more congenial to snuggle down as a warm hearth-rug. The specific type of bug originally referred to remains a mystery, with some sources mentioning a cricket and others a carpet beetle.

The first-known written use of the phrase was the Stratford Jubilee during a celebration of David Garrick's 1769 Shakespeare festival: "If she [a rich widow] has the mopus’s [money], I'll have her, as snug as a bug in a rug." Similar sayings appeared in print even earlier: in Thomas Heywood's 1603 play A Woman Killed With Kindness ("Let us sleep as snug as pigs in pease-straw") and in Edward Ward’s 1706 The Wooden World Dissected ("He sits as snug as a bee in a box").

Benjamin Franklin used the saying as part of an epitaph he wrote in 1772 following the death of Skugg, the pet squirrel belonging to Georgina Shipley, the daughter of his friend, the Bishop of St Asaph:

Here Skugg
lies snug,
as a bug
in a rug.

Origins aside, I thought I’d share some more images that capture the sense of the saying.

A Dreary Day Pick-Me-Up

This morning started off beautifully, but then Mother Nature pulled a fast one on us, and the sun disappeared. So I thought it was time for a visual pick-me-up. You can check out more of my favorite flower photos on my website: digitaldoggy.com.

Kudos to a Real Dancing Dog

Given the name of my blog, how could I not share this wonderful video? And can I just say that I love the fact that Chandi is a rescued dog.



Thanks to John Woestendiek for bringing the video to my attention.

For more information on Dog Dancing--otherwise known as Canine Freestyle--check out the Canine Freestyle Federation and Wikipedia.

Of Hairless and Powder Puff Cresteds

I realized that so far the only dog photos I've posted have been of black dogs, and while it's true I have a weakness for black dogs, I thought I should start giving some equal time to dogs of a different hue.

Meet Fancy. She reminds me of nothing so much as some sort of garden sprite or canine gnome. In reality, however, she is a "powder puff" Chinese crested.

Now, if you're like me, you associate Chinese cresteds with those little naked dogs whose "hair" is limited to little leggings, a sort-of Mohawk do on their head, and a little pom-pom on the end of their tail. It turns out, however, that if it weren't for the hairier variety like Fancy, Chinese "hairless" cresteds wouldn't exist. According to Fancy's human mom, the hairless variety are the result of the mating of a hairless with a powder puff parent...at least when it comes to responsible breeders. Apparently, mating hairless Chinese cresteds to each other can result in offspring with skin problems.

So now you know.

Marching for the Animals

I can't think of a better way to spend time than surrounded by dogs and dog lovers, so I'm really looking forward to the Maryland SPCA's March for the Animals this Sunday (April 18). I feel very privileged to be sharing a booth with author Jen Carle, where she will be signing copies of her new book, Becoming Waldo, and I'll be signing copies of A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet and Black is Beautiful: A Celebration of Dark Dogs.

Interestingly enough, Jen and I have never met in person, having gotten acquainted as a result of our books and on Facebook. It's just one more example of how my love of dogs and my involvement in animal rescue and welfare issues has led to new and wonderful connections with people I would not have met otherwise. My life is definitely richer for it.

The March for the Animals runs from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. at Druid Hill Park in Baltimore. Stop by and join in the fun. It should be a blast!

For details go to http://mdspca.org/events/mfa.html.

Passing of a Muse

Why is it that life's highs are so often counterbalanced by corresponding lows?

Sadly, the printing of my new book, A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet, an event that brought me great satisfaction, coincided roughly with the diagnosis of one of our dogs, Samba, with hemangiosarcoma. What made this coincidence particularly painful and ironic was the fact that Samba had been something of a photographic muse for me.

My husband and I adopted Samba and her brother Tango when they were 3-and-a-half months old, following the death of one of our first dogs, Boris. We discovered them at an adoption show of the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County and burst into tears. Black and fluffy, they reminded us so much of Boris as a puppy. We were smitten!

Over the years, Samba posed for many photos, including Halloween portraits, Christmas cards, and the cover of my book Black is Beautiful: A Celebration of Dark Dogs. There's something serene and soulful in her expression in that cover shot that will stay with me always, as will the photos taken of her in the snow and on her bed just a week before she died.

Before Samba's diagnosis, I had never heard of hemangiosarcoma, but desperate for any information that might help us help her, I scoured the web, and quickly learned that it is discouragingly common...and deadly. Despite the removal of her spleen, site of the original tumor, Samba succumbed just one short month after diagnosis. But during the course of my information search, I discovered a source of hope for all dog lovers: the National Canine Cancer Foundation, a non-profit organization that funds grants for researchers investigating the prevention, treatment, and cure of cancers afflicting our canine companions. So in an effort to channel my grief, I established a fundraising page in Samba's memory on the NCCF's website. I encourage you to read her story there and make a donation to the cause if you're moved to do so.

Seeing through the Eyes of a Rescued Dog

Since fostering rescued dogs has been a fairly significant activity in my life over the past few years, I thought I'd share the following reflections based on my experience with one of these wonderful dogs...reflections that were originally posted as part of the blog of the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County:

Sometimes we forget that the ordinary, everyday world can be an exciting, surprising, and even scary place…when seen through the eyes of a dog just rescued from the concrete confines of the shelter. Objects, environments, and situations that we ignore or take in stride can cause very different reactions in a recently “liberated” canine.

Take Kourtney, one of our recent foster dogs, for example. When she arrived at our home, she was afraid to even come inside, much less go up or down stairs. A couple of days later, having mastered the stairs, she noticed a life-sized statue of a small puppy standing near the wall in our den. She crouched down, belly to the floor, stared, and began to growl. I had to turn the statue on its side and hold it in my lap before she would approach to sniff it. We repeated the process several times before Kourtney was completely convinced that this very still dog who showed no appropriate greeting behavior wasn’t a threat.

One night while I waited for what seemed forever for her to “go potty,” in the backyard, Kourtney spotted a cicada as it flew clumsily onto a low-hanging trumpet vine branch. She watched it intently for a moment and then made her move, knocking it to the ground and pouncing on it with apparent glee.

And the next day was the day of the pinecone. While on a walk, Kourtney suddenly froze in that position that suggests uncertainty about whether to advance or retreat. I couldn’t figure out what had spooked her, but then noticed a pine cone lying in the dirt. She stared, circled it, and stared some more. Tentatively, she touched it with her nose, only to jump back in surprise at the sensation. She circled some more, touched it again, then gingerly picked it up and carried it proudly for a few moments as we walked before dropping it as if it were of no further interest.

Kourtney’s stay with us was characterized by such small but momentous discoveries…discoveries that I feel blessed to have share with her. Ahhh, to see through the eyes of a rescued dog.