A Pet's Ten Commandments

My brother recently sent me an amazing email, "A Pet's Ten Commandments". While I am clearly a dog person through and through, my brother's passion for animals came much later in life. As a matter of fact, Dave's love affair with dogs came by way of Abby, his beautiful yellow lab that he rescued almost two years ago.

Dave had informed me long ago that he was interested in opening his home to a dog in need. This was an exciting development and I felt compelled to help him on this journey. Like my mom, I believe that your dog picks you. I never have a breed or age in mind, and I always end up gravitating towards the sickly, sad, and senior variety. Dave does not share this sentiment. Dave had a tall order, but as there are so many animals in need, I felt confident I could deliver. Sure enough, after a few weeks of quietly searching I came across a post on Craig's List called "Angel Dog".

"Angel Dog" was a young female yellow lab that had been abandoned by her owners. She was not in danger of being euthanized, but she was living her life in a concrete prison, sentenced to a life of solitude and despair. A wonderful volunteer fell in love with her, and went against the shelter by posting a detailed advertisement about this incredible dog. I came across the ad by chance, and reached out to her immediately. The next day Dave and Alia drove over three hours to visit "Angel Dog", and it was love at first sight. They adopted her on the spot and named her Abbagail Lisa Rodman.

Abby has changed Dave and Alia's lives, and they could not be more in love with their wonderful girl. When Dave sent me "A Pet's Ten Commandments", I was touched that he felt the need to share the message, but more importantly, I was reminded (yet again) that Abby is one lucky dog.

Love to Dave, Alia, and of course, my beautiful niece Abby.


A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS.........
1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years.
Any separation from you is likely to be painful.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.
4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as
punishment. You have your work, your friends, your
entertainment, but I have only you.
5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do
understand your voice when speaking to me.
6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.
7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that
I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.
8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative,
ask yourself if something might be bothering me.
Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in
the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.
9. Please take care of me when I grow old.
You too, will grow old.
10 On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please.
Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face
this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there,
because I love you so.

New Tricks

It has been a shamefully long hiatus from the blog. In fact, since I last wrote a season changed, I moved to Northern California, and not surprisingly, my love for one very troublesome little dog grew just a bit (ok, a lot bit) stronger. I suppose I stopped writing when things got a bit too hairy (I know, silly but I never throw in dog jokes so I had to sneak one in just to gauge the reaction!). The move was challenging for a multitude of reasons, and Toby’s health and social anxiety have been a true test in endurance and perseverance…physically and mentally for both of us. We had our new dog walker quit (she wasn’t prepared for Toby’s overbearing Jewish mother), an increase in our time apart (read newly developed separation anxiety), a ripped screen door (can you call it “ripped” if Toby tried to eat his way outside?) and of course, an ever-growing list of medical mishaps including but not limited to; allergies, microscopic liver shunts, compressed disks (now Toby and I can get together and complain about our herniated disks) and a soon to be luxating patella that will someday require surgery. Sadly, the list goes on and on and on.

There have been some dark days, days that are behind us and days that we have decided to forget. In fact, ironically the only constant these past three months has been all this change! Toby is still painfully shy, but amazingly Toby has acquired some new friends, specifically his cousin Bennie (an adorable white bijon that lives with my parents), his other cousin Taylor (my mom’s Aussie), and perhaps most surprisingly, my dad, Steve/Grandpa (self appointed, no less). Toby plays in the yard, chases the other dogs, and looks to my dad of all people as “second best” when I am not around. Looking back on the days when it was “just us” seems a million miles away, and it is hard to believe that our life of solitude is in the past. I would normally say something like “thank goodness for small blessings”, but Toby’s attitude adjustment is nothing short of miraculous. Toby is a total contradiction- perfectly imperfect, sweetly socially awkward, “special” and truly special…he certainly keeps life interesting. So maybe you can’t teach on old dog new tricks, but you can hope and pray that like Toby, your dog knows when to throw you a bone.

Happy Birthday Mom

My mom's 60th birthday is coming up, and what party would be complete without a series of awkward skits to complete the evening. Well, my family really enjoys a little number, and since singing is out of the question (I sang my last song in 1996...it was "Dust in the Wind" and I am pretty sure it blew) I decided to create a trivia game based on all the animals that have been a part of my mom's life the past sixty years. It is impossible to include each one, my mom has had countless Toby's, but I gave it my best. Most of you don't know the animals mentioned, or my mom for that matter, but I think it speaks to her enormous heart and incredible passion. The performance is Sunday, so cross your fingers for me. I hope you enjoy it.

Cari Rodman’s Animal Trivia Pursuit

A tribute from the many animals whose lives you have impacted (and from Lisa, David and Dad)

1. In a galaxy far far away our adventure took flight.
We were destined to be together forever,
Our love was out of sight.

Answer: Luke and Leia (Cocktails)

2. I believe in the principal of plural marriage.
I dish out tough love, and I am not afraid to get physical.
Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and if you are nice, I might regurgitate some up for you.

Answer: Chico (Parrot)

3. “Unfortunately he’s dead”
At least that’s what she said.
You taught my parents a big lesson,
But poor Steve sure was stressin’.

Answer: Stolen Turtle

4. I was meant for another,
But our connection was like no other.
You bent the truth so that we could be together in flight,
I also slept on your head which was really a sight!

Answer: Missy II (mixed breed rescue)

5. When it comes to “true to breed” that is not me.
You are my best friend and I always have your back,
Just remember that you are on your own if there is opportunity for a snack.

Answer: Taylor (Aussie rescue)

6. You were my princess but I scarcely showed affection,
Lucky for me you didn’t take it as rejection.
My gorgeous hair and long legs made me sophisticated and regal,
Too bad for me, I was dumb as a seagull.

Answer: Alfie (Afghan rescue)

7. As the seasons changed my love for another grew stronger,
Finally one day I couldn't’t hold back any longer.
A report wasn’t filed,
But poor Steve was defiled.

Answer: Autumn the Bunny

8. While the legends of your swimming did not exceed our yard,
To me you were on spectacular life guard.
You saved me from drowning more than twice,
I lived to be 22 because you were so nice.

Answer: Ivy (Shitszu rescue)

9. I ate through luggage and I ate through grates,
I ate for fun and I ate to escape.
Although I was sneaky I was lovely as a flower,
One look at me and you lost all of your power.

Answer: Daisy (Mutt rescue)

10. I was sickly and frail, my old owners thought I was a dud,
You saw past the missing teeth and treated me like a stud.
You carried me around and kept current on my massive medical chart,
You saw more than anyone ever had, and I saw straight to your heart.

Answer: BJ (Yorkie rescue)

11. We celebrated a Bat Mitzvah with a new arrival,
I knew my long search was over, there could be no other rival.
I proved smarter than most, jumping on counters and opening the door,
When I was in the picture life was never a bore.

Answer: Chelsey (Lab rescue)


With great love and affection,

Tony, Boots, Taylor, Ivy, Sunny, Simon, Chico, Gordo, Missy, Missy II, Luke, Leia, Madison, Toby, Winston, BJ, Chelsey, Alfie, Buttons, Maxi, Autumn, Daisy, Abby, Puff, Peppy, Sascha, Shayna and Paco.

And the list goes on and on and on…

The Early Bird Gets the Worm

Just when you think things are running smoothly, that there is a break in the madness, you realize that you spoke just a little too soon. Our brief glimpse at serenity was just that, brief, it was the calm before the storm. I took a momentary break from my weekly veterinary visits to focus on a new job opportunity. I suppose the vet must have wondered where we had run off to, but I have to admit that I was enjoying our hiatus. My wallet was heavier, my dog was healthier, and all appeared to be perfect in our happy little household.

The recent ease of our lives had given me temporary, blissful, amnesia. All of our previous woes slipped away as I started to plan our carefree, vet free existence. Pleased beyond words, Toby and I trotted out the door, practically singing as we left for our evening walk. Even cleaning up the poop (normally an arduous and sickening chore) did not phase me that evening. In fact, when Toby did his standard bathroom dance I politely turned my back, gave him a moment of privacy, and happily whipped out a plastic bag. A moment later I bent down, gave Toby a little nod, and prepared for a swift pick-up. I thought I caught a funny look from Toby as I leaned over to scoop his business, it was fleeting, but there was a distinct expression of worry that flashed across Toby’s face. So as not to nauseate you with the gory details, let me leave it at this…Toby had worms, and Toby knew it. Toby felt shamed, and I felt ill. We were not going to combat this with our bad attitudes, but I must admit it was a sight like no other I had ever experienced.

An emergency call to the vet taught me that worms are highly common and easily treatable. In fact my vet was quite calm and did his best to answer my endless questions with patience. The questions ranged from relatively straight forward (is he contagious?) to those of a more complex nature (Do I have worms too? Are they in my apartment? Do I need to call an exterminator?). Hundreds of frantic inquiries later, Dr. Harner assured me that both Toby and I would be fine and that two simple rounds of a de-wormer would do the trick. Slightly calmer (but still nauseous) I took out my Toby Binder and added “worms” to our ever growing list of medical mishaps.

Hotel Rodman

I have said before that Toby is a sensitive dog, and while it would make sense that perhaps I passed that less than flattering trait on to him, I believe that Toby’s personality is more a function of environment and past experience. On my recent business trip to New York Toby was forced to leave the nest, reluctantly spreading his wings and facing the massive world before him. Since long term boarding would be a major fiasco, I decided that Toby would benefit from staying at the ultimate dog spa and hotel…my mom’s home. My dad was reluctant, my mom sent Toby an email saying that grandma was ready and waiting.

Of course I received Toby updates from my mom, but also a few from my dad which I found surprising. While he continuously called Toby a “she”, there was a moderate amount of enthusiasm in his report that struck me as odd. Was it possible that my dad was starting to like Toby? I was confused, but as my trip went on so did the positive feedback. It started small, “she is doing pretty good”, and progressed into “your little dog is kind of cute”, and then shockingly “Toby greeted me at the door and then chased after me so I could play with him”…was that affection I was hearing in his voice?? Well not only had Toby miraculously turned back into a male, but if I was a gambler I would bet that my dad was starting to like her, HIM! I was stunned! If Toby could actually win over my dad maybe he could win over more people. Maybe, just maybe, my serial monogamist was ready to explore the possibilities of life with more than one love…oh the possibilities!

Dog People

I am an unapologetic dog person. In fact, I am proud to say that I love all animals. I don’t kill spiders and I am still working on a way to deter my persistent ants from their seasonal home invasion (so far no luck). I believe that the world is big enough for all living things to peacefully coexist, and I try to live my life with that sentiment in mind.

As much as I love dogs, I openly admit that having a dog in your life can be extremely demanding. Adopting a dog as a single person is even more intense, and it is important to understand the amount of personal sacrifices that you will have to make. These sacrifices are yours alone, and the people that you meet post dog will either get it or get out (in my case). Your time is no longer yours, and one must be prepared to take on the vet bills, walks, accidents and overall chaos that can often become all consuming. I say this not to scare anyone away from adopting, but to make the firm statement that the decision to adopt is profoundly permanent. Your little companion will have accidents, and you will be the one to clean up the mess (figuratively and quite literally). There are the nights that you will long to stay out just a bit longer but can’t because your dog is waiting, patiently, for that last walk. Having a dog changes everything, but more importantly, having a somewhat difficult dog tells you quite a bit about the people in your life. It's easy to love Lassie, but Toby, well Toby is a wonderfully acquired taste.

Toby is not easy. I say that because I live in realty, and understand that my little Toby comes with a some baggage. All dogs (and people for that matter) have issues, but rescues in particular are often faced with extreme trauma and neglect that can take years to recover from. Toby, for example, becomes highly stressed in new environments and doesn’t always respond well to new people. In people terms, Toby has irritable bowel syndrome and releases his stress via, well, you get it. A recent scenario left Toby with a $150 tummy ache and me with the realization that new friends are hard to come by when you have a socially wary pup.

Stomach issues aside, Toby is a quick character judge. You learn a lot about someone when they interact with an animal, and while I have often challenged Toby’s initial prognosis, I must admit that so far he has been spot on. Toby will never jump in your lap and greet you “lab style”, but I think he has an innate sense about people, their intentions and even their character. My close friends understand that Toby is an unmovable fixture in my life, and they have all been patient and persistent in their efforts to pursue their friendship with Toby. I love my friends and family for loving me enough to accept my little Toby and all the quirks that come with him. I get that Toby isn’t easy, and it makes the people who accept him that much greater. To you, friends, Toby thanks you for trying to love him despite the fact that he may not be quite ready to reciprocate. In time we will unpack Toby's heavy and overflowing baggage, but until that day comes I will make it a point to give extra love from the both of us.

The Great Relocation Project of 1987

As much as these endless storms are putting a major damper on my living situation (flooded apartment), I have to admit that I secretly love the rain. Rain makes the snail community magically appear, and snails make me think of my mom. To understand the connection you have to understand a little something about my mom, but to appropriately and accurately paint a picture of my incredible mom would be impossible. Do me a favor and trust that she is like no one you have met…I swear I am not biased and I am quite certain that nothing I write could truly do her justice.

When I was seven we moved into our home in Danville. My parents were both meticulous about every detail of the house but my dad was particularly passionate about the backyard. The plants were lined up in perfect rows like pristine little soldiers, and I swear I saw a few people pull a flower petal just to see if they were real (they were!). At long last things were finally just so and my dad could once again sleep at night. Weeks passed as we settled into our new home, but something wasn't right in our serene and perfect yard…snails, and a massive infestation of them at that. There was no way my dad would allow these tiny slimy shelled slugs to ruin his paradise, and we knew that something drastic would be done. A calculated plan was formulated and the next weekend poison would be spread throughout the yard. My mom and I were horrified, but there was no reasoning with the unreasonable, it was too late. Our snails had better pack their bags or pay the price. I was frantic, but my mother has a way of picking her battles and even winning the ones she forfeits. D-Day was quickly approaching and yet I was assured over and over that a counter plan was in place. A short time later giant empty fish tanks appeared and so began the “relocation project of 1987”. The objective was to collect the snails from the backyard and release them into a nearby field. Most people laugh when I tell this story, the immediate response being that there is no way we successfully relocated every snail. Unfortunately we didn’t take role, but in my heart I believe that we got every last one. In fact, I think those snails live today and tell their grandsnails about the “Great Cari Rodman”. For my mom, no life is too insignificant or too small, and I think those snails realize that they truly met a hero…I am sure it is not surprisingly that I couldn’t agree more.

So this evening when you walk your Toby, keep an eye out for those little snails. Watch your step and tread lightly, Cari Rodman would expect nothing less.

Love is Blind

Call it mother’s instinct, call it crazy, but I knew early on that Toby wasn’t well. I sensed his illness in every move he made, and I grew fearful as I watched him deteriorate. While home for Thanksgiving I made an emergency appointment with our family vet, Bud. Bud was beyond sensitive, and expedited a blood panel to help shed some light on a dim situation. I suppose love really is blind because what I saw as petite, clumsy and shy was diagnosed as underdeveloped, unstable and despondent. In hindsight I guess I should look at it as a positive, I saw the good in a situation that was not…it was irrational, yes, but who said rational was such a regarded trait? So maybe I was temporarily blinded by love, but now I can admit to my 8 readers (since there are only 8) that there is a cautionary warning and “take away” for those that know me. Yes, it is hard to talk about, but amongst friends I can say that “My name is Lisa and I am slightly delusional and completely out of touch with realty when it comes to passing judgment on animals…my name is Lisa and I literally love all animals.” You may have a snarling out of control terror and yet I am quite sure that I would confidently call your Cujo “high energy”, “nervous” or even “agitated with a smidge of pent up anxiety that must stem back to a bad owner somewhere down the line”. Trainer and Behaviorist I am not.

The twenty fours of waiting were unbearable, and when the results finally came in the news was grim. My poor little 5.7 lb dog had abnormally high bile acid levels which Bud suspected was indicative of a liver shunt. A liver shunt is a blood vessel that carries blood around the liver instead of through it. In some animals a liver shunt is a birth defect, but in others multiple shunts form because of severe liver disease such as cirrhosis. A liver shunt is a common, yet highly serious condition often requiring invasive and very expensive surgery that is not always successful. I was instructed to seek a surgical consultation and additional blood work. Did I mention that this was only day 5? I must admit that I cried for an hour before my brother and his girlfriend were able to calm me down. Once the tears dried I did what any highly motivated ‘type A’ business woman in my desperate situation would do- I formulated a comprehensive action plan to get Toby healthy in a hurry! Now while I certainly don’t want to ruin the ending, I will say that Toby is now 7.1 pounds and we have graduated from health issues to those of a more behavioral nature. Not perfect, but I’ll take it!

Flight to Forever

Because life is nothing without a slew of complications, I took Toby home on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. With little thought to transportation or logistics, I suppose you could say that I was somewhat irresponsible with my timing. Traveling with a dog is not as easy as one might think, and traveling with a paperless rescue is even more complicated. From Virgin America’s corporate standpoint, Toby was an illegal alien that I was harboring. Millions of phone calls later, I switched our flight to Southwest and called my parents with the exciting news that they should prepare to meet their new granddog! My mom was thrilled, and my dad, well, not so much.

We had a few days before takeoff, and in those days it became apparent that something was very wrong with Toby. His energy level was nonexistent, and depression and angst seeped out from every fiber in his little body. I would have moved mountains to see just a little wag in his tail, but all my efforts were unsuccessful. As time progressed, Toby’s condition deteriorated.

Out of desperation I called the woman who so willingly handed Toby off to me. She was less than unhelpful, responding to my desperate call with an email writing my cries for help off as Toby’s “new home adjustment period”. While the original plan was to foster Toby, I soon realized that Toby was mine, adoption papers or not. I wasn’t looking to bring a dog into my already complicated life, but the situation was grim, and helping was not an option. Toby found me for a reason, and from this point forward I had to be his advocate, campaigning and petitioning on his behalf. So I deleted her email, looked at my new “son” and realized that we had a long road ahead of us.

In hindsight, I suppose I never really planned to find Toby a home. I brought Toby to work one day and a coworker made a rather intelligent observation. She asked me when I was planning to find Toby a home, before or after I had his tags engraved with all of my information? The comment was a “realty check” and a realization that engraving those tags was symbolic in ways that I didn’t understand at the time. That night I sent out a mass email with a subject title that read, “Toby Patton Has a New Home!”

Crash Rodman

As a teenager I was known for being a terrible driver. My dad dubbed me “Crash Rodman” and the name followed me through my early twenties. I crashed my fifth and final car during a summer holiday, and I remember thinking to myself that I had two options; buck up and call my dad or drive the partially totaled car to Mexico and never look back. I went with the call, but it was a decision that I seriously contemplated! After what seemed like an eternity, my dad lifted his silence and reminded me that “it’s just a car”. This is just one example of why I have the best dad. My dad is always endlessly understanding and supportive, no matter how many times you make the same mistake (which in my case can be a lot). I was reminded of my fifth crash when I brought Toby home from the farmer’s market.

Last winter I fostered a male Chihuahua, Sherman, from a local rescue group. Sherman was a handful- a true Chihuahua through and through. Sherman ran circles around me and my apartment; marking his territory anywhere and everywhere, literally pissing all over my life. Sherman was unbelievably overwhelming, and completely nocturnal. I hardly slept, and I was convinced that my new roommate was not exactly “adoptable”. Despite being mismatched, Sherman deserved a break and I made a commitment to help him find his forever home. Sherman and I went to doggy school, had all night slumber parties, and just had a grand old time. The weeks turned into months, and I grew accustomed to upgrading to super sized coffees and sleepwalking my way through life. My mom, an animal whisperor and true saint, sympathetically tried to help me better manage the situation. My dad, a realist and animal tolerateor, thought that Sherman was sucking me dry and wanted to find a way to expedite his adoption.

It did take some time, but eventually Sherman was adopted by a wonderful family. I was sad to see my little friend go, but I knew he would be happier in home with kids and other doggie siblings to keep him busy. So I brushed the experience off as a job well done, took a long nap and promised my dad that I would never commit myself to another high maintenance Chihuahua again.

Back to the present, and Toby and I are heading back to Irvine. As I stared at the now sleeping bundle of Chihuahua on my lap I couldn’t help but think “Shit, maybe I should consider taking that drive to Mexico.”

Meet Toby

I am far from a writer, and even further from a computer savvy "blogger", but there are people, moments, places, and in my case, dogs, that simply beg to be memorialized. My dog, Tobias Patton, has inspired me to share his story and attempt to articulate my deep fondness and affection for my new companion. I will apologize now, and I am sure many more times, for the endless typos, grammatical errors, run-on sentences and overall incoherent thoughts that are likely, no highly likely, to ensue. I hope that the writing will be acceptable, but more importantly, I hope that Toby’s story will touch you.

Before I go on, I must preface this entry (and all my entries) with a serious warning. I have made the mistake of speaking about Toby with such pride and affection that the people on the receiving end begin to envision Toby as somewhat of an untouchable super-dog. This seemed like the correct sentiment to me, but to be fair, I should tell you that if Toby decided to grace you with his presence you ought to be prepared for a chilly reception. Toby is a Chihuahua through and through, and true to his breed he is a one person dog. Try not to be offended and I will try not to gloat that the greatest dog on earth loves me best. One of many Toby adventures is about our futile attempts at socialization, so don’t feel bad because it isn’t you...I promise, this isn’t me blowing smoke, maybe it’s normally you but this time it really is “me” (or him). This is a hard one for my friends and family, but I keep reminding them that there is a special dog who wants to be their one and only who is just waiting to meet them!

My little Toby was handed to me like a bag of fruit at a Farmer’s Market in Los Angeles. The market often hosts different rescue groups, but this particular group was especially chaotic and disorganized. I was scared for the dogs who seemed visibly stressed amidst the shoppers and pedestrians who were practically tripping over the pens. The dogs were tense and heartbreakingly pitiful, so my attempts to keep moving were futile. I tried to be strong, but the pull on my heart was simply too strong to resist.

Toby was huddled in the back, shaking like a leaf in a tornado. I wasn’t sure he would approach me, but our eyes met and I put my hand near his noise so he could give it a little sniff. With less apprehension then I expected, Toby placed his entire head on my hand and let out a big sigh. So to put it simply, Toby “had me at hello”. If Toby were a man, I might say that it was love at first sight. Since Toby is a dog, I affectionately say that it was absolutely positively love at first sight. Love comes in all different shapes and sizes, and no matter how prepared you think you are, love has a sneaky little way of creeping up on you when you least expect it. I went to the market for olives and came back with a dog...shocking and unexpected, sure, but wonderfully worth all that followed? Absolutely.