Dear Oscar, While we know you not to be a resort traveler, we were wondering if you could answer a snowmaking question for us...

... Why is it that on very cold days, fine, low-lying clouds form near snowmaking guns? Can you explain this? Your friends at the Stowe Adventure Center


Dear AC Friends,

First, let me set the record straight. I have been known to frequent ski resorts... after lifts stop running for the season! In fact, just last spring, I hiked up the trails of your very own Stowe Mountain Resort and joined my human in skiing from the top of the Chin. In fact, I have even visited the Adventure Center! Of course, I would never do that when you were open for business; that place is too crazy for me during business times.

As for the thin, blanket-like clouds that you get on snowmaking mornings, here's the deal. The phenomenon you refer to is known as "ice fog." In nature, you don't get ice fog until temperatures reach minus-40 Fahrenheit or colder. When it is extremely cold, there is generally high relative humidity too. A cold air mass can't carry much vapor. So when it gets really cold, the slightest amount of moisture causes ice fog. On the South Pole, for example, exhaust from aircraft or from the power plant at the South Pole Station cause plumes of fog because they saturate the cold, cold air with moisture.

On Mt. Mansfield where temperatures aren't nearly so cold, the ice fog you are experiencing is the result of the super-cooled water droplets introduced to the air by your snowmaking guns. A lot of energy goes into cooling these droplets as they come out of the guns. And, the water from the guns speeds the process of saturating the air with moisture, increasing the relative humidity. The result is the low-lying grey blanket that covers the mountain on cold, clear mornings after long snowmaking nights.

You may wonder how I know so much about snowmaking, the South Pole, and ice fog. The answer: I know snowmakers, South "Polies," and my brain is sometimes foggy. (Also, thanks to weather-expert John Gallagher for his input.)

And last thing: my apologies for taking so long answering this question. I was busy with my Christmas shopping.

Think snow, Oscar

Dear Oscar, I am going to be celebrating my first Christmas. I'm putting the finishing touches on my list for Santa and was wondering...

...what some of your favorite presents have been. Merry Christmas, Gracie

PS My owners won't even let me in the room with the Christmas tree. I know it smells good - but how does it taste?

Dear Gracie,

As you will learn, the holidays are a wonderful time of year... mostly because of the food opportunities that arise! In my case, for example, my humans don't feed me any human food. But they prepare a lot of food at this time of year. And when they cook, food falls on the floor. It's inevitable.

Two presents stand out for me. One wasn't exactly a Christmas present; it was a Thanksgiving present. But doesn't the "holiday" season officially begin with Thanksgiving? Anyway, last year for Thanksgiving (which happened to fall on my birthday), I got a kitten! My little brother Waffle first joined our household then. What a gift! Also, closer to Christmas last year, you won't believe the present Alison gave me. She made home-made dog biscuits! Wow! But there's more. She didn't just make me dog biscuits; she made biscuits for every dog she knows. She put them on the counter to cool, forgot about them, and then went out for the evening. Can you believe it? Obviously, it was good karma that befell me for being such a good dog all year!

Yes, I ate every cookie off the counter. What a night.

As for the question about the tree, I have one piece of advice before you start really checking it out: blame any damage on the cat.

Happy Holidays -- and best wishes for a good haul on your first Christmas!
Oscar

Snow!

As a dog, I don't watch the news or read the weather in the paper. But I am quite aware of the turn of events of the last week... it's winter!

Don't get me wrong; I haven't been complaining about the sunny 50-degree days we've been enjoying. There are lots of interesting smells out there when it's like this. My main complaint is that, during hunting season, my humans restrict some of my walks, I rarely get to run around in the woods, and I have to wear that silly orange vest.

But hunting season is mostly over, and we have woken up to fresh new snow pretty much every day this week! I may be 3 years old (and wise beyond my years, if I do say so myself), but you better believe I've been showing off my best puppy-prance everytime I stick my nose in the fluff. This dog's tail is wagging!

I just can't wait to start hiking the mountains and skiing the backcountry. I know that's a ways off (we'll need more snow), but I'm still excited. I am a dog that loves winter. I remember my first hike in the snow. I had just arrived from my birthplace of Virginia, my pads were soft and tender, and the March corn snow cut my pads. But I'm a little more grown up now... and tougher. So let's celebrate everyone... it's winter!

Happy Birthday...

...to me!!!

It was three years ago that a stray yellow lab-hound mix gave birth to four puppies and me in Virginia! Then 4 months later I moved to Vermont! Let the celebration begin!

New Artwork on Display

There is an exquisite new artistic offering on display here at my house in Richmond, Vermont -- a beautiful rug with an amazing design: me!

The rug is really incredible, with amazing detail. Ever since Ali got it hung in our TV room, I keep thinking I'm looking in the mirror whenever I see it. The rug was hooked by master artist Jill Aiken. She made it as an anniversary gift for my humans, but I think we all know she really meant it as a tribute to me, 2009's Most Valuable Yellow Dog.

It's quite an honor to be preserved for eternity on a rug. But I think I deserve it. Thanks Jill!

Dear Oscar, Should Bill Belichick have gone for it on 4th and 2? -- A Diehard New England Fan

Dear Fan, Why are you asking me? I don't know anything about football! I'm a dog, for goodness sakes!

However, I did happen to be in a room with a TV that had the game on when the now-infamous 4th-and-2 situation arose. My human stood on the couch with his entire fist in his mouth. After the play -- and the remaining few plays of the game -- he went into a state of semi-shock and denial... similar to what I witnessed in the first week of February 2008.

As for whether the coach should have gone for it, I have only this to say: Sometimes my humans leave me alone in the house. Sometimes -- not often, but sometimes -- they leave food out. Like Mark will leave his lunch box within my reach and in it, there will be a granola bar that he didn't finish. Or other times, I'll find a ziploc bag of dog cookies in a jacket or backpack pocket on the mudroom bench.

I know there will be consequences for my actions. Sometimes I even regret it later, like when my humans come home, find the remains of the granola bar wrapper, and I hang my head and tail.

But every instinct in my body told me to do it, and you have to listen to your instincts. So that's all I have to say: listen to your instincts. Coach B and the rest of your team, keep doing what you're doing. Don't listen to all those critics. Your instincts are almost always right.

Thinking about becoming an NFL analyst,
Oscar

Full Moon

Every month, my humans get a message from their friend Heather. "It's time," the message will say, "for a FULL MOON party."

The parties have become legend. Always outdoors, always around a fire, they also always incorporate fun, friends, and good people. Usually food, too. By the way, I'm not just talking about friends for the humans, either. I'm talking dogs and lots of them!

And when the message came for last night's party, I was extra excited. When my humans went away last weekend to follow some rock 'n' roll band, my friend Berkley brought Heather over for the weekend. Here it was, only a few days later, and I got to see them again! I should mention that I had a fabulous weekend, and it was also a great Full Moon party. Although I admit that I got a little distracted last night and didn't play and romp quite like I usually do. Yes, I couldn't help myself; I kept trying to eat everyone's chips and hot dogs. Not exactly behavior that I'm proud of, looking back, but I guess I was hungry at the time!

At the end of the night, rather than get into my human's car, I jumped into Heather and Berkley's Subaru! What can I say? I had fun last weekend! Thanks again Heather!

A New Mouser

You might think I have an easy life, but I beg to differ. Without me, where would this household be? I'm the one who greets everyone who comes near the house -- friend or foe. Who constantly stands guard over this property, regardless of the hour? Thats' right, me. (You might call it sleeping, but think of one time that I didn't wake up the instant someone put their little toe on our driveway. That's what I thought.) And who keeps people healthy, active, and in shape around here by constantly being ready (and insistent) to go outside for walks, rides, runs, or skis? Again, yours truly.

In short, I am the glue that holds this household together.

I'm sad to say that I can't say the same for the cats in this household. All they do is lay around and act lazy. Their sole contribution is to keep the local rodent population under control (such menial work, in my opinion). And, for awhile, I even questioned how well they were keeping up with that one simple task. Now Scout, of course, our 13-year-old mouser has a reputation to fall back on. You can't argue with 13 years of results. Not only is he efficient, he is generally in the habit of lining his victims next to his cat dish. Recently, however, Scout was banned from eating regular cat-food, in lieu of "old-cats" food (it's rather tasty -- I have tried it). But, because Waffle and I are very interested in Scout's new diet, he now eats in the bathroom. At his age, how humiliating! So, I think he may have gone on strike for awhile. And besides, where is he supposed to line up his kills now that he doesn't eat at the bottom of the basement steps? I think Scout actually enjoys mousing, so he recently got back at it. But he left the dead mouse behind the front room couch. He's still confused about what to do.

Waffle, on the other hand, has been a free-loader since the day he arrived. In, out, in, out. Meow, I want this. Purr, I want that. Never have I seen a bigger slacker. Kitten sleeps all day, then goes outside to party all night. Until my human Alison made a discovery a few days ago. Or should I say "discoveries": she found 4 dead mice in the backyard. Well, now, little kitten, maybe you have been making yourself useful!

Well, I'm glad to see I'm not the only one shouldering the load around here. But, make no mistake about it: I am the most important personality in this household -- two-legs or four. And that's not just my opinion; that's a fact.

Hurricane Hike

Mount Mansfield may be just 4393 feet high, but it acts like a much bigger mountain than that sometimes. As a dog who has skied from the summit, I feel I am an adequate judge. But never have I been up there on a day like last Saturday. It felt like a hurricane up there!

I first noticed the wind when we got out of the car. Everyone was gearing up for a nice autumn walk, but I was watching the treetops. They were going crazy! I, of course, didn't say anything, because I was just excited for a hike. And I think the whole group was excited: we had my usual humans, Ali and Mark, we had Doug McKain with his photographic trail-memory, Ruth Penfield who chronicled the journey on film (in fact, all photo credits on this post go to her), and Ryan McKain who was visiting for a little weekend hiking and fishing.

We went up the Laura Cowles trail because we thought it might be a little better sheltered than some of the other routes. Sheltered? Maybe. Dry? Uh...no. Water was pouring down that trail like a river! Again, it didn't bother me; I just slopped right through it and drank whenever I wanted. I found myself in somewhat of an ironic situation; I was carrying two small water bottles in my dog-backpack. Yet everywhere we went, water was seeping out of that mountain!

At the top, the wind was blowing 75 mph. The view was great, if your definition of "great view" is 15-feet of visibility with wispy grey fog flying past you. My ears and lips flapped in the wind, and everyone's jackets filled with air. They looked like a bunch of weight-lifters, their jackets were so poofed out!

Rather than descend the exposed Sunset Ridge Trail, we walked the Mt. Mansfield ridge to the Canyon North Extension to the Halfway House trail. The Halfway House was nice, but the Canyon Extension was slippery and kind of treacherous. I was a little nervous and at one point refused to climb over some slippery rocks -- even when someone offered me cookies. Hey, I like dog cookies, don't get me wrong. But not enough to die for. They're not steaks, you know.

Anyway, we got past the sketchy spots. I had a great time bounding around in the woods and hanging out with our group. One nice thing about the weather was that there were very few people hiking Saturday. To go up there on a day like that, you have to be seriously deranged... or you must must really like hiking.

Doors

In my puppy days, my humans had a plan. They fenced off a section of the yard and they closed the door from the porch to the house. When they had to leave me home alone (something I can't say I necessarily approve of -- after all, why wouldn't they want to bring a yellow puppy wherever they were going?), I had a safe space to be with an indoors and an out.

Fast forward to September 2009. The porch has been finished off and is now part of the house. There is no door separating the two. So when I get left alone, it's either in or out. While I love being outdoors, I don't love my yard. It's too... familiar. So I always choose to remain indoors (that way, if I need to use the phone or, for example, type up a blog entry, I can).

And, I should clarify the word "alone." I have never been left completely "alone." Scout the cat and Waffle the kitten are always here with me. And herein lies the problem. I am content, when I'm home alone, to sleep on a couch or bed. Waffle -- the new generation pet -- is more of an instant-gratification cat. If he's outdoors and he wants in, he wants in now. Which is why he has been scratching furniture, walls, doors, and so forth. The most obvious example: he has completely destroyed the weather stripping on the exterior door between the porch room and the yard. It's shredded.

And so our humans went to Lowe's home center on the Vermont tax-free holiday a few Saturdays back. They purchased a screen door... with a pet door! Whee-hoo! Now when they leave (as long as the weather's warm), we pets can be indoors or outdoors at our leisure! We have total control of our destinies!

Except for one thing: the Lowe's people who are supposed to install the door never call us. It's been almost three weeks! So they still have the door and Waffle is still scratching. I suppose, now that everyone knows Waffle is the culprit, I could try to blame him for some of the other shenanigans that go on around here: the granola bars that keep getting eaten... the backpacks that get chewed up if anyone leaves dog cookies inside them... the vegetables that get picked out of the veggie basket on the counter...

But I would feel bad pinning those on an innocent kitten. So I'll stick to my original story. It was aliens! They buzzed down in a spaceship, opened the door with their space blasters, chewed the backpack, and ate the dog cookies! I told them to pick up after themselves, but they just ran back to the spaceship and flew away!

Oh boy. I just hope we get this door installed soon.

Oscar


Waffle and his weather stripping project (click on photo for a close-up of the shreddage)

Dear Oscar, I am a sports nerd who studies stats. Like in baseball, I keep track of a pitcher's ERA against left and right-handed batters...

...among other meaningless numbers. Anyway, in studying your Running Log, I noticed that you don't seem to be running much so far this month. What's up, are you getting soft in your old age? -- A Nerdy, But Devoted Fan

Dear Fan,
First off, I am almost 3 years old. In dog years, I am just about "college-aged." Which, we all know, often can signify a decrease in meaningful productivity (which isn't to say it's not a time of productivity; said productivity during this timeframe is simply not meaningful!)

This is not, however, the case with me. I too have noticed the drop in miles, and I am not pleased about it. My humans continue to follow a course of long runs on Sundays and track workouts later in the week. I am not included in these workouts, and, as you can imagine, I call "Foul."

They have, however, incorporated a new practice to our schedules: the "bike ride to the river." What they will do is bring me down to the garage, grab a mountain bike, and then ride to the river. I, meanwhile, run full-speed next to them on their bikes. It is FUN! And it isn't too time-consuming for them, so I have been making way more trips to visit and swim in the Winooski! It is an interesting new twist in our exercise relationship; they can keep up with me on those two-wheelers. It's sort of like backcountry skiing without the uphill part. Finally, an activity we can truly do together. Seriously, the runs are good, but can you humans please pick it up a couple of notches? Sheesh, it's like running with a bunch of turtles!

In other news, I am pleased to report that I have lost the designation of "Most Destructive" at my residence in Richmond, Vermont! That designation now falls on Waffle the kitten, who has destroyed the weather stripping around the back door, countless toilet paper rolls, a couch -- and who walks on the heads of my humans from 2:30AM until daylight. I'm surprised they put up with it -- the head-walking, I mean. I stopped sleeping on the bed months ago. Once I see that kitten show up at night, I don't mess around -- I'm outta there. It's on the floor for me. I don't have time to be losing any sleep.
Your friend, Oscar

Dear Oscar, I work with this really cute girl, but don't know if I should ask her out. What should I do? Jonesin' for Love, Jim

Dear Jonesin’ Jim,

Before I started writing my own blog, if you'd have told me I'd be giving out dating advice, I wouldn't have believed you. The things people ask a dog with a blog!

Okay then. Listen to me Jim, and listen carefully: when I see something I want (and bear in mind, these things are generally food-related), I do one of two things. Usually, I don’t think; I just go for it. It’s there; why not take it? For example, the other day, someone left some cupcakes on the counter. You think I hemmed and hawed and wondered what to do (like you're doing)? Of course not! I put my front paws on the counter and started licking. By the time my human realized what was up, I had already licked all the frosting off the first cake. Yummm!

Maybe you aren't a man of action. Which is okay; indecision is appropriate in many situations (although I can't think of what situations these are... but I hope I'm making you feel better). Anyway, sometimes when my first approach doesn't work, I go to plan B. That's right... I beg! I’m not ashamed. If I think it’s dinner time, I have no qualms about scratching on the door to get attention. When my human comes over to let me out, I trot right over to my food dish and give the most pathetic look I can. Before begging this cutie of yours, however, I recommend practicing your pathetic look. You want to give her a real guilt complex -- like she is your last hope. You don’t want to give her any excuses for turning you down. Where’s my dignity, you ask? I don’t want dignity; I want food. Priorities, Jim.

I hope you find this advice helpful. If you don’t get the girl, at least you should be able to score your next meal. These methods have never failed me.

Regards, Oscar

Dear Oscar, School starts again in less than a month! Yikes! What is the best way for me to protect my schoolbooks? Thanks, A Scared Student

Dear Student, Don't be scared. School is nothing to be afraid of. Well, I guess that's easy for me to say; I've never been to school. Those obedience training places where they bring puppies? Never went. Are you surprised?

As for your schoolbooks, how am I supposed to know? Try not drooling on them for starters. That should help protect them. I have seen kids on my street going to school with books that have homemade book covers. They appear to have been made out of paper grocery bags -- an excellent example of re-using resources.

I have only read one book (pictured above), and I didn't read the whole thing. Pawing through the pages, I was appalled to discover it was about an undisciplined yellow dog who chewed all his owner's belongings. Not exactly subject matter I approve of, now is it?

However, I don't believe in censorship or book burning (or other forms of book-destruction) either. But I couldn't just let this slide, could I? Here's what I did: Very carefully, I chewed the lower corner of the book (see photo), even though it was on loan to my human. It was my way of clarifying how I felt about the topic.

I think I made my point. At least, my human never returned it. She said she was too embarrassed that it was all chewed up. This is a lie. I much prefer to believe she didn't think people should be making fun of dogs who don't come when called.

Hope this helps. Enjoy what's left of your vacation.

Oscar

Dear Oscar, How does the heat of summer affect a dog while running? And are you still training as much as always? Your friend, Dwight

Dear Dwight, They say that heat affects dogs more acutely than it affects humans. I say this is ludicrous. Heat or no heat, I have never seen a human who can outrun me. I mean, I'm not saying I would try to run through the Sahara or anything; I'm just giving you the facts. What I would say is this: don't forget to drink lots of water and to save some for your dog. Also, I have no qualms about plopping my whole self into a pond, puddle, lake, or stream that I might encounter on a hot summer day mid-run. I love trying to run through a puddle and drinking on the fly. But that's not just in the heat; that's anytime!

As far as my current training, no, I'm not running quite as much as usual, and I'm bitter. Here's the deal: my humans are at that point in their current marathon training when they are running longer distances on Sundays. 14, 16, 18, and 20 milers. And their rule is that I don't go on runs of over 13 miles. This is hogwash! And I let them know it last week by chewing Alison's backpack (again). I also ate her Shot Blocks -- very tasty, thank you. Also, they are incorporating track workouts into their regimen. That means they actually time themselves over set distances. Last week they did 4 800 yarders at the South Burlington High School track. And they didn't bring me. They seem to think I can't focus enough to run hard for those distances.

Well, they're right... but why would I want to!?! When I run, I want to smell a bush every now and again, check out a squirrel, or pause at puddles. I don't know who gave them the silly idea that speed workouts will improve their marathon times, but I would like to have a word with whoever it was.

So, no, I seem to be getting left behind a little bit these days, and, let me tell you, I am not too pleased about it.

Regards, Oscar

Dear Oscar, I just looked over your running log. Those are alot of miles! Do you get any exercise beyond that listed on the log? A Fan from 'Frisco

Dear Fan,
The Running Log isn't the half of it! Listen. The runs I put down in the Log are the runs I do on my leash with my humans. They know how far they go, and I can get that information by listening to them gripe about it later ("Wow, that was the hardest four miles of my life!" or "Wow, that sure seemed longer than seven miles!"). So I record those runs in my running log. The real exercise in my life comes when I am off my leash, running in the fields around my house or playing in the yard. But I'm a dog; I don't care about mileages, target heart rates, or calories burned. Because I can't really quantify those more intensive workouts (and because they happen like three to eight times a day!), I don't usually write them in the Log.

Don't think I don't enjoy running with my humans; on the contrary, I love it! Take this morning, for example. It was a beautiful morning, and we ran a couple of Richmond dirt roads. At one point, we came out from under the canopy of pine trees into some rolling fields. We could see Camel's Hump off in the distance. I jogged through some puddles in the drainage ditch alongside the road while we ran. Anyone who drove by us could see by the huge grin on my face that I was having a great time.

I don't really care what form my outdoor activity takes: running free in the fields, running on a leash, swimming in the river or lake, hunting, or just heading out on a lazy walk on the leash. It's all great activity, and I'll take it every time it comes my way.

Your friend, Oscar

Dear Oscar, I like drawing. What is your favorite summer activity? Yours truly, Pam

Dear Pam, I am a dog of many interests -- only one of which is opening up mail from readers such as yourself and writing responses on this blog. Thank you for your question, and don't be afraid to keep them coming.

We are deep into what are known as the "dog days of summer." And they are properly named; summer is all about being a dog. Here is a list of some of my favorite summer activities:

-- Sleeping
-- Running on the roads with my humans
-- Running on the trails with my humans
-- Running in the fields without my humans
-- Running in the woods without my humans
-- Swimming
-- Sitting in the sun
-- Playing with Waffle the kitty
-- Eating
-- Snacking

Yep, that about covers it. Summer sure is a nice season. Enjoy!
Your friend, Oscar

(Note: Photo by Judy Robinson)

A Recommendation

In case you are thinking of hurling yourself from a moving vehicle, I don't recommend it. And I should know; I tried it this morning at 35 miles per hour on the road to the Aiken Camp.

Please, not all at once; I'll answer your questions one at a time...


-- Yes, I ran the automatic window down with my paw.
-- Yes, I voluntarily jumped out my own window.
-- Yes, I rolled rear-end over teakettle when I hit the pavement.
-- No, I was not seriously injured, other than a couple of scratches.
-- Yes, it scared me and yes, I ran into the woods and eventually several miles down to someone's camp on the OTHER side of Route 2 (the crossing of which was probably even more dangerous than jumping out the window)
-- Yes, I played with the kids at this camp for over an hour while Mark and Ali searched the bogs, swamps, and poisen ivy patches of North Hero, figuring I was dead.
-- Yes, the guy whose camp I landed at found Mark and Ali's phone number on my dog tags, and yes, the guy's brother plays hockey with Mark on Monday nights!
-- No, I don't know what I was thinking.
-- No, I don't plan on repeating the stunt. Even if I did, I doubt my humans will ever let me sit next to another open window.

THANK YOU: to Matt Tomberg and Kate and Ian Thurston for searching the roads for me when they heard about my accident. Also to Mary for her great guidance to my owner and to Frank and my good friend Fanny who joined the search IMMEDIATELY upon hearing about my situation.

I think most people would have advised against such a stunt. But sometimes a dog just wants to try to figure things out for himself.

Dog Vacation!

You won't believe what happened. My humans, Mark and Ali, went on vacation. That's not the unbelievable part... sheesh, let me finish.

They brought me with them!!!

Not Scout, not Waffle, not anyone else. Just me! Isn't that the best???

We went down to Cape Cod. Mark went ahead, some sort of writers' conference or something. Ali and I came a few days later in the blue Honda. She had that thing loaded with bikes, beach stuff, running stuff, dog stuff. There was barely room for me in the back!

Anyway, I was on my best behavior on the way down, and when we got there, wouldn't you know it? We stayed with my good friend Andy the Aeredale! Andy and I played and romped pretty much for 72 straight hours. I think we paused to sleep and eat. Meanwhile, I got to visit the ocean (wow those waves were big, and wow, did that water not taste good), run on the beach (on my leash), play in the yard... yup, that's about it. Can you imagine a better vacation?

Mark and Ali, meanwhile, swam in a beautiful pond (no dogs allowed, which was too bad, but Andy and I occupied ourselves by standing by the fence and barking while they were gone) and went on and on about how great all the food was.

I highly recommend Cape Cod. Lots of trails, the ocean, the beach... and good friends to visit. My humans are already talking about the Caribbean. I can't wait!

Dear Oscar, My owners just had someone measure my yard for a fence. A fence! Help! Why are they doing this to me? What did I do? Regards, Riley

Dear Riley,

Just calm down, buddy! First off, repeat five times:

I may be the dog, but I am really the master...
I may be the dog, but I am really the master...

Feel a little better? Good dog. Okay then, just to let you know, you can always find a weak link in your fence. And even if the installer is that good (which is highly unlikely), have no fear. Your own human (the dope!) will mistakenly leave the gate open just long enough for you to bound through to freedom. Repeatedly.

The important point here, once again, is to give your humans the illusion that they control your life. It makes them feel better to believe this. I know the "sit, stay, come" bit can be tedious, but throw the human a beer once in awhile (note the play on the old "throw the dog a bone" saying). Let them believe, and then they'll let their guard down. And next time you see a dead carcass in a field somewhere, boy will it be worth it. Roll away, baby!

So don't sweat the fence. You're just as free as you ever were, and those saps are feeding you Milk Bones to boot.

Have a good day, Oscar

PS Riley, on another note, I hope you're feeling better. You and your owners are really an inspiration. Best wishes!

Dear Oscar, I have been reading about the health and cleansing benefits of juice fasting...

...I am more intrigued, however, by your more unorthodox approach of eating unscented goat's milk soap instead. Is this a method you regularly engage in before a big marathon? Would you recommend it to others? And is it FDA-approved? Regards, Solomon Katz

Dear Solomon, This blog post will no doubt be the only time you see the words "Oscar" and "fast" together in this context. A much more likely context would be: "Wow, Oscar sure did eat his dinner fast!"

Let the record show that I see NO benefits of any kind that might come from fasting. And believe me, I've tried; I fast every day between my morning meal and my evening meal, and let me tell you, it stinks. This is not, of course, to say that I'm against sucking down someone's juice if they leave it around. But to purposely not consume hard food? That's crazy talk.

In regard to the soap I ate before the marathon, it was the same color as bacon fat, so I thought I better eat the whole bar, just in case. According to the Poison Center (which my humans contacted when they saw the torn up wrapper), there was nothing in the soap that could kill me. It may have been cleansing (like your juice fast), but I still don't recommend it for others. Talk soon, Oscar

Dear Oscar, Does running cause arthritis? Are there health benefits of running? What's your resting heart rate? -- A Concerned Runner

Whoa there, Runner! You're firing a lot of questions at me one right after another. Don't forget, my brain is only about the size of a walnut.

Okay, let's tackle your questions one at a time. First off, running does not cause arthritis. There are several different kinds of arthritis out there, and I bet you didn't know that the plural of the word "arthritis" is "arthritides." All arthritides deal with inflammation of some kind in the joints, and it is common in humans -- and many dogs. In many cases, increasing your exercise levels can help ease arthritis pain. That's the short version, but onto question number two: are there health benefits to running?

Well, yuhhhh! The health benefits are too many to list in just one measly blog post. But here's a short list. One, running makes it so a dog can have extra dog cookies! That's dog-speak for "running promotes weight loss." Also, running is good for your bones. Bones accommodate the demands you put on them. Watching TV? Not good for your bones. Running, chasing frisbees, and playing with your friends at the dog park? Good for the bones! Also, my research tells me that running lowers your "bad" cholesterol count, and lowers the risk of heart disease, stroke, and breast cancer. I don't know what any of that stuff is, but why should I? I'm just a dog, you know?

Lastly, you ask what my resting heart rate is. I come from a family of runners, and we all have strong hearts that beat slowly and powerfully. A lab of my size should have a resting heart rate between 60 and 150, and mine is 60. But don't let that fool you. After just 30 minutes of chasing squirrels on the hill behind my house, you should see me pant and drool. I can get that old ticker ticking, let me tell you!

The moral of the story? Keep running, everyone! -- Oscar

Dear Oscar, I have a marathon coming up. What should I eat for my pre-race meal? Runnin' in Rochester

Dear Runnin', Congrats on your upcoming race. I imagine you've been been training now for several months -- including runs up to 20-miles or more. What have you been eating prior to those training runs? Chances are, if you had successful training runs -- or even if you merely "survived" them -- whatever you ate then will probably work just fine before your biggie.

For me, my diet remains pretty consistent, whether it's a race day or a regular day. I get Nutro Lamb and Rice dogfood topped with shaved carrots twice a day. If I can, I will act just adorable enough to get my humans to give me dog cookies. If I'm still starving (which is usually, despite the fact that they give me more than the recommended helping for a dog my size, age, and activity-level), I eat grass in my yard. Nothing special before a big run -- except for maybe a bunch of water and definitely some cookies and water to replenish afterwards.

The "Run with Jan" group with which my humans run every Sunday had a speaker this past Sunday -- Kasie Enman of Huntington, who finished 11th in last year's Olympic marathon trials in Boston. She agrees that the week before your big race is not the time to shake things up. My human, Mark, seems to subscribe to that theory. His pre-race breakfast is two bowls of Wheaties with banana and honey and a glass of orange juice. Just like every morning. He keeps things the same on race day -- right down to the can of Mountain Dew in the car on the way to the event.

Experiment with different foods during your months of training. Then, hopefully, by race time you know what works.

Hope this helps!
Oscar

PS To check out the Run with Jan website, click here.

Dear Oscar, Wow your running log is amazing! Seriously though, is it safe for a dog like you to put in that many miles? -- Phyllis from Scranton

Dear Phyllis, Thanks for admiring my running log. And as to the health and safety of dogs running, veterinarians generally agree that running is not only okay for dogs, it is beneficial. In some ways, dogs are the same as people; exercise is a good thing!

There are some general guidelines, of course. Puppies shouldn't run distances. The vet at Richmond Animal Hospital advised my owners against running with me until I was one. I remember being so angry when they left me behind! I took out many of my frustrations on an old foam couch (that we no longer have). It's also good to gradually work your dog up to longer distances, and once you do, you'd be surprised at how far we can go. My owners generally cap my running at 13 miles. I assure you, I can go more, but they don't let me.

Lastly, use your common sense. If your dog acts like s/he enjoys your runs, s/he probably does. If your dog appears to be lame or stiff, then, again, s/he is, and you should probably walk. If your dog is lame after a run, take some time off.

Most vets and dog trainers recommend running with a leash. I am solidly against this. However, my owners always run with me on the leash, and I admit that I'd have been hit by a car by now otherwise. Still, that doesn't mean I like it.

Running is good for dogs. It keeps us happy, healthy, and fit. But don't be fooled. We can outrun a two-legged person any day of the week.

Regards, Oscar

Dear Oscar, Who do you pick to win this year's Stanley Cup? A black team or a red team? Yours truly, Hockey Fan

Dear Fan, Although I have never played the game, I have certainly watched plenty of games on the couch next to my owner. I can't say I'm the biggest fan; it's not like skiing and running where my owner brings me along to play. When I see him pull out the big bag and his sticks, I usually hang my head because I know I'll be staying home. As for my favorite team, my favorite color is yellow. Which would, then, make my favorite team the Swedish national team -- but they don't play for the particular trophy you're asking about. I know there are plenty of red teams still in the running (Washington, Detroit, Chicago to name three), but I would be more inclined to pick a black team. One of those teams -- the Bruins -- actually came to our neighborhood last fall for some practice, some golf, and a little hiking. They were really good guys... I pick them. The newest NHL analyst, Oscar

Thank you Rebekah!

Thank you for taking care of Scout, Waffle, and me while my owners were away. You are one of the best dog-sitters ever! Say hi to Solomon for me! Oscar.

Dear Oscar, Why do you refer to the people you live with as 'owners'? It seems more like you own them. -- Un-owned in Montana

FOLLOW-UP LETTER: Dear Oscar, Why haven't you answered me? I wrote you days ago. I know you had at least a day when your "owner" was just flipping out and packing the car. Now I know that you are truly unowned. -- Impatient and Un-owned

Dear Un-owned,
Those people to whom you refer like to feel like they influence or in some way control my life. The truth is they don't. However, there are advantages to allowing them to think they do, so if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't spill the beans.

As for the response time for your letter, I am surprised. You don't seem like the type who likes being rushed either. When there are smells to smell or places to run, sometimes I feel it is best to attend to these impulses. I'll get to your letter when I get to it.

Thanks for the letter(s) though. Your friend, Oscar

Oscar, How do you do it? I heard that, in one weekend...

... you crewed for a participant at North Conway's Tuckerman Inferno, you attended a Baptism in Hartford, Connecticut, and you were a spectator at the 2009 Boston Marathon. Is this true? Sincerely, Impressed

Dear Impressed, It's not a big deal, really. I will say this: The opportunities for a dog to pick up food at the Inferno are excellent. Extreme athletes at the Inferno just shove food in the direction of their mouths -- not really noticing what they're dropping on the ground. Very good pickings. And babies? They're a dog's best friend. Babies not only drop food on the ground; they throw it! And the Marathon-watching-crowd in downtown Boston? They dropped hot dogs, yogurt, ice cream, French fries... you name it, they dropped it. I especially recommend the sausages they were selling on Boyleston Avenue.

It was, all-in-all, a very rewarding weekend. Oscar

Dear Oscar, How do you feel about birds? Regards, Stanley

Dear Stanley, I LOVE birds! Chasing them, that is. But on the other hand, I do resent their unfair advantage. I mean, it's one thing that just when you almost have them, they flap their wings and take off. But then they'll just sit in trees. I can't climb a tree. How are we going to play if they're going to sit in a tree all day?

And what's the deal with sandpipers? Sandpipers are those grey spotted birds with the semi-long beak and the moderately long legs. They whistle and whistle to get your attention, and they limp around like their legs and wings are all messed up. Then once you're there to sniff and lick 'em, they take off -- no injury after all.

I guess on second thought, I have mixed feelings. I love running after them, but I'm not fond of fakers or flyers. Put us on a level playing field and I'll show you who's standing after an afternoon of old-fashioned romping. And it won't be our feathered friends, I'll tell you that right now.

Thanks for the question, Oscar

Dear Oscar, You need to post more often! PS Nice running with you today. Your friend, Todd

Dear Todd, Likewise to you, Mr. Speedy. I'd keep up with you, but I am leashed to my slow owner. Oh well, maybe another time.

As for the frequency of my posting, I completely agree. But I have good news: you can expect more posts from me moving forward. You see, my owner (the same slow runner to whom I just referred) is changing jobs. No, he wasn't laid off, and no, Stowe is not downsizing. Rather, every spring, my owner, a career skiing professional, shifts gears. And this summer he will be working full-time at home as a freelance writer. And you know what that means, right? That's right -- it means editors take notice: the world's best writer is available to write for you!

And do you know what else it means? That's right! Instead of turning the computer off and heading up to the mountain every day, he'll be here at the house, and the computer will be on. And whenever he takes a break, yours truly will be jumping on to add another post to my blog. It won't, of course, be easy. My owners would freak if they caught me playing on their computer! Obviously, neither of them knows about this blog. So let's just keep it our little secret.
Your sneaky friend, Oscar

Inevitable

Well, it happened, and no one can say I didn't warn him. I have been telling my little brother Waffle the kitten for weeks that if he's going to play on the toilet, he better be ready to fall in. I know that Mark and Alison make every attempt to keep the lid down, but sometimes they forget, and when they do, you can always find that orange kitten precariously balanced on the rim.

And then Friday night the inevitable happened. Sure enough, something caught his eye, he made a quick move (and I will give him credit; he's usually quite agile -- sometimes I can barely catch him), he slipped, and in he went. There was a big splash, a high-pitched "meowwww!," and then an orange streak running from the toilet to the basement cat door.

Well, you can't say I didn't warn him. You won't catch me standing on that toilet. Drinking from it, maybe. But standing? No way.

Oscar, Does your house have a yard? Just Wondering in NYC

Dear Wondering, Yes, my house has a small fenced yard. My owners painstakingly set up an area surrounded by basically a heavy-duty chicken wire. It does the job, although if I wanted to I could probably just knock it over. For the most part, however, I make them happy and just stay in the yard when they ask me to. But, seriously, the yard is where I go to the bathroom, so am I really going to hang out there? I mean, come on, do you hang in your bathroom? I didn't think so.

So every now and then, I lose my head, see a squirrel or something, and sneak out. There are plenty of weak spots, so I try to rotate them. I always come home though. I just like to run in the woods, get a little exercise, sniff some smells, and pee on some bushes. No big thing, but sometimes a dog has to do what a dog has to do.

Dear Oscar, What do you eat for dinner? -- Curious in Cincinnati

I eat 2-and-a-half cups of Nutro Lamb and Rice two times a day.

Awhile back, in an attempt to slow down my dogfood inhalation at mealtimes, my owners tried giving me sliced carrots with dinner. It didn't work; I wolfed down my food just as quickly as ever, and usually just swalled the carrots whole. They also tried broccoli, spinach, and squash, but to no avail. Nothing slowed me down. I love my breakfast and dinner!

Lately, though, Mark has been experimenting with a new approach. He has been grating up carrots with a shredder and putting a pile of shredded carrot on the middle of my food dish. I have to admit, the first time he did this, it threw me for a loop. I was like, what is this? Sometimes I try to eat around the carrot, which, I guess, does slow me down some, and amuses the heck out of Mark. That's probably what slows me down the most; it's weird, I tell you, being watched while I eat, you know? What's the big deal? I still like the carrot, of course (I have yet to try anything I don't like), but sometimes I like to eat the dogfood first and then inhale the carrot.

Find Yours

My owner Mark works at Stowe Mountain Resort where one of their marketing slogans is "Find Yours." I'm no marketing genius, but I believe the idea of the jingle is that whatever turns you on, you can find it at Stowe as long as you're willing to look. If you like quiet wooded glades, go find it at in the out-of-bounds at Stowe. If you like ginormous jumps, check out the big park on Tyro. If you like 5-star hotels and restaurants, check out the new Spruce Peak hotel. Get the point?

I found mine last night. Like I said, I'm not into marketing or sales pitches, so I'm not going to try to convince you that my behavior lately has been stellar or that it was anyone's fault other than my own that Mark hasn't really let me off the leash much lately. I know, I know, I should come when he calls. I just get caught up in the moment, you know? However, last night when he came home at dusk after we received 16 inches of snow in 24 hours, he had decided to give me a chance. We went to the fields at the end of our road (the ones far from the river, so I wouldn't be tempted to run across -- I know... the ice isn't safe!). He put a light and a dog-bell around my neck, strapped on his snowshoes, unhooked my leash, and off we went, bounding across pristine powdery fields under a cloudy yet sparklingly snowy nighttime sky.

And as I charged around at full speed, leaving dog tracks about 6 feet apart in the snow, I found mine. Yep. I love winter, I love snow, and I love romping around in fresh snow on a cold, windless night, with snowflakes floating down and reflecting off my light like stars. I am sure the expression on my face -- if you weren't blinded by the headlamp around my neck -- said it all. Pure bliss. I am a dog who knows what I like, and I found it in the snowfields of Richmond last night.

Oscar, Do you have any advice for our new President? -- A Concerned Reader

Dear Concerned,

Yes, I certainly do. In this time of war and economic recession, what this nation needs is, of course...

... a White House dog! I mean, seriously, what is the hold-up? I had high hopes that the President and his family were going to move decisively and immediately on this important issue; after all, the President addressed it in his very first press conference after winning the election. His exact words: "Yes, we are getting a dog."

Now, I don't want to belittle the enormity of this decision or the importance of making the right choice and selection. And in the Obama family's case, they do have an allergy to be concerned with -- his 10-year-old is allergic. But come on! The time to act is now! There are hypo-allergenic dogs out there like the Labradoodle and the Portugese Water Dog. As I am sure the President will be reading this entry, I offer my advice here: go with the Doodle. After all, it has lab in it, and we all know that labs are the best.

I must say that I am pleased that the Obamas plan to get a dog from a shelter. Yours truly came from a shelter, and what more evidence do we need that shelter dogs make good pets?

I am confident that once he gets a dog in the White House, things will flow better for the new President. He will have someone that greets him enthusiastically when he comes home from a long day at the Oval Office. And he will have always have a willing companion when he needs to go for a walk or jog. The President should remember to feed his new dog regularly and that treats between meals are much appreciated. Finally, if there is ever a nosy reporter badgering him, the President can sic the Doodle on him -- always a handy option to have at one's disposal if one is President.

Long story short: Mr. President, seriously. The economy can wait. Take care of the important stuff first. Go get yourself a dog.

New Skill

Check out the new skill I have added to my set: Here I am pictured on Interstate 89 at 75mph.

Just kidding! Dogs aren't allowed to drive! I'm actually stationary in the Bagel Shop parking lot. And besides, I would never exceed the speed limit; I'm a rule follower.

Also, best of luck to Rufus at the vet! Hang in there, buddy!

Resolution

Happy 2009 everyone! For the New Year, I resolve not to leave my toys around the house, to refrain from jumping when people come over, and to stop chewing on Waffle the kitten.

Okay, I admit it. I have no intention of keeping any of those resolutions. There is one thing, however, I intend to do a better job with: keeping up my running log. Loyal readers of this blog probably think I haven't run in over a month. According to my log, it's true. In reality though, not true. I have been running regularly; I just haven't posted them. So starting with First Run 2009 (see photo of this year's January 1st event), I will diligently post all of my runs. Happy New Year everyone!