Greetings Mouthketeers:

This was a week I really should have been on vacation or in a state where I should not have gotten out of bed. During this week I learned my friend’s dog passed away, learned another friend’s transgendered cousin committed suicide and hung herself, heard an old friend’s elderly dad had fallen, found out a book agent began pitching our clients to media without including us in the negotiation; and this week was the week a bat flew into my home at 5am and fluttered around me in my bedroom while I naked in my bed and screaming…as if I was a woman.

The bat story is worth detailing. It’s not a good feeling when your house alarm goes off at 5am, and it’s even worse to get a call from the alarm’s dispatcher telling you the motion detector in your living room is where the alarm was tripped.

I sleep in the buff (TMI); but imagine contemplating the notion that someone is walking up your stairs ready to murder you; only to learn that the violator is a bat, fluttering around you in your bed, while you are butt naked to the wind. (Thank God I wasn’t sitting naked on the terlet when this creature decided to freak me out.)

This is a true story.

The sounds that came out of me when this bat violated my space was only equal to the sound of a woman giving birth—only there were no stirrups to strap me into. Instead of taking a breath and remembering that bats are harmless little creatures who simply carry diseases; I launched an all out screaming campaign in the hopes this bat will fly back to whatever cave he came from. (Where were my neighbors during all of this? Were they afraid if they called the cops I would have pulled a “Henry Louis Gates” on them??)

So, I called the police. They gave me the name of an animal control service—who unfortunately wasn’t opened 24 hours-a-day. As I screamed down the hall to the guest bedroom, shutting the doors behind me as if the attacker would find me again and try and tussle my hair (did I tell you I’m bald?), I decided to boot up the laptop in the hopes of finding an around-the-clock company who will rescue me and put me and the bat out of our misery.

Jim—who lives in Connecticut—but owns a company called New York Bat Control (or something of that ilk), was kind enough to take my call, and talk me off a ledge of fear.

Two hours after my call, Jim arrived in his company uniform—looking as if he was Kevin Costner in that baseball movie he starred in. Sadly for me, the sun was rising just as Jim’s truck had pulled into the driveway, and if you remember anything about bats, they hide and sleep (upside down) by day, and flutter around by night. Needless to say, after an hour of bat hunting with a pair of rubber gloves and a flashlight, Jim did not find the intruder.

But Jim charged me $400 and the promise that he would meet me at 10pm (for free), and catch the bat when it woke up from its power nap.

Jim kept his promise and showed up, and found me sitting in my car refusing to go into my house. Jim asked me to open the door, which lead into a pitch black living room, and as I peaked through the panes of the old looking colonial window, I could see Jim doing a bat dance with the flashlight—and I could see the bat dancing to the beat of Jim’s song.

Frankly there was no music, but trust me when I say Jim and the bat gyrated to a tune I never heard of at any disco—and sadly the dance ended in about three minutes when Jim grabbed the flying mouse (uh, b-a-t), and broke his neck. (I know, I know, I asked Jim to let the bat go back to the wild but for some odd reason Jim said that the town wants all captured bats killed and tested for Rabies.) So my 15-hour saga with the bat ended on a high note.  (Boy I wish the stories of the dog that died, the woman who committed suicide, the agent who spoke out of turn, and the elderly man who fell would have had a happier ending; but when it comes to capturing bats, Jim is now on the top of my list of vendors I will definitely use in the future!) 

Bat behavior and bad behavior is not tolerated; however there’s gotta be some moral to the story, right?  What I also learned from Jim was that earlier in the morning he saw a coyote slithering in my yard, and reminded me to never let my dog off a leash—or on the deck without supervision because there will be a tragic ending.  I would have never learned about how to protect my dog if it wasn’t for the bat; and although the entire week was chock full of human bats circling me as if I was Dracula, deep down I knew there was going to be a brighter day at the end of this tunnel of sadness, drama and insanity.

Today is my company’s retreat, and I’m firing up the BBQ and grilling some chicken burgers for the staff. If the party is overshadowed by thunderstorms, I will switch gears, book a massage for my employees at the local day spa, and treat everyone to lunch at the state’s most critically-acclaimed smokehouse.

Darkness will eventually turn into light—and all I will need to do is take a breath and look toward the future.

Hey, wasn’t Teri Garr hysterical in “Young Frankenstein”?

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator Pet, Pop Culture, entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

I was going to blog about the “dead mom,” the guy who disguised himself as his mother (who died years ago), in order to collect her benefits, but then I thought I’d share some real news that will help you or someone you know.  (We’ll play dress-up another day.  OK?) 

Some of us inject a poison, such as Botox, in your faces, (what’s up with those crazy eyebrows, people?), others shove saline or silicone to poof up your bust line—just in case you need a floatation device when you’re swimming; but do any of us slather our bods with pesticide?  If the answer is “no,” why on Earth would we accept rubbing that crap on our dogs and cats to protect them from Fleas and Ticks? 

You got that right.  Products such as Frontline, is a P-e-s-t-i-c-i-d-e! (And people wonder why we’re all getting Cancer?  Excuse me.  Are we crazy?)  Please don’t be confused with where I’m going with this.  Just take it for face value, and if you are a dog or even a pussycat owner (or know someone who is), please pass this blog along to them because I’m gonna share some useful info for a change.  Deal?

Here’s the setup:  So I have a Silver-Dappled Mini Daschund named Rufus, a little hotdog of a thing who specializes in “whisper singing.” Anyway, the other day we attended the 11^th Annual Dachsie Fest in Westport Connecticut, which was nothing more than a group of hundreds of hotdogs and their slightly eccentric owners and admirers parading around a park, showing off their pooches, and looking to rescue other Dachsie dogs in distress.  During the event, at least fifteen strangers asked me why Rufus’s coat was so soft and silky . . . so in the spirit of sharing my trade secrets for keeping Rufus’s coat the way it is, I’d thought I would also reveal other eco-friendly remedies:

Trade Secret Number One:  For a silky beautiful coat, add a supplement called “Dreamcoat” into your pet food everyday.  It’s put out by a former client of mine, called Halo Purely for Pets, and is an organic oil supplement that will not only stop your dog (or cat) from itching, but will cut down on the shedding and dander, and make their coats so shiny, you’d swear you honey bunny is ready to audition for a Preference by Loreal commercial!  You can get Dreamcoat in pet stores including PetCo, as well as on the Internet. 

Trade Secret Number Two:  To get rid of Flea and ticks, throw away the Frontline and the Hartz, etc. in favor of an eco-friendly powdered supplement put out by Earth Animal in Westport CT, called Earth Animal Herbal Internal Flea and Tick Powder Yeast Free. (There’s also another version on the site too.)  Friends, when you add this to your pet’s food, it will smell as if you’re feeding them an Italian dinner. According to the store, this stuff will also “clean” their blood while warding off those F&Ts.  (BTW, you can also get Dreamcoat on this site too.)

Trade Secret Number Three:  For those doggies who can’t express their anal glands as easily as others (I can’t describe this any further because I’ll be grossed out so please ask your vet about AGs—especially if you have a male dog), I also add a big fat tablespoon of Libby’s 100% Pure Pumpkin (from a can) into the food as well.  This supplement will not only bulk up the food, but help Fido expel his anal toxins more easily.  FYI, the holiday season is a great time to stock up on cans of the pumpkin, which can last for years.

Trade Secret Number Four:  Feed your dog Spot’s Stew, also put out by Halo.  This miracle food, which incidentally, can be eaten by anything, including humans, comes in Chicken, Beef, Lamb and Salmon flavors.  I serve Rufus the wet; however they recently launched the dry. 

So if you’ve got some trade secrets you’d like to share, please let me know.

You must check out a great book called Broadway Tails published by Globe Pequot, and written by Bill Berloni, the guy who found and saved the original “Sandy” for the musical “Annie.”  Bill and his wife, Dorothy, are premier trainers for the stage and screen as well as rescuers.  BTW, I only love eating my hotdogs with Ketchup.

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator News, Pet