I once read an article about the coonhound, called “The Failed Hunter”.  Watching Henry hunt is a curious thing.   He is a dreamy dog that seems to enjoy staring off into the distance.  I am never sure what he is looking for.  It almost always appears to be nothing.  I know that he does not have the best eyesight.  His nose supposedly picks up the slack for what eyesight is missing.  I believe he is just waiting for a glimpse of movement.

On dark mornings or evening walks, Henry is often spooked by a looming trashcan or lured to the chase of a plastic bag blowing in the wind.  During the day, a small ground squirrel can throw him into a tizzy, madly dashing, legs in circles, ears in circles, propelling him forward, toward the direction of the squirrel.  He nearly never makes it to the place where the squirrel has made its quick appearance.  I have watched him closely and it seems that as Henry takes off into the direction of the hunt, needing to look at his feet, he loses sight of his pray.  I have seen grace and elegance and athleticism move most dogs to their target.  Why must Henry look at his feet?  I can’t believe that he shares my own uncoordinated genes.  I wonder if other coonhounds need to look at their feet.

The body of a coonhound is very interesting.  Although Henry is clearly mixed with another breed (I believe German Shepherd), all of his personality traits are coonhound.  He has a deep throaty bay that he only lets loose for particularly fun play times or exciting hunts.  He has long fingernails that I have seen him use to run up a tree after a pray (keep in mind that this tree was growing at a 30 degree angle off the ground), over a stream.  I almost made him appear athletic.  He can walk backward as easily as forward.  His back legs are slightly bowed to allow his front legs to pass through, like a rabbit, to give him some extra power from the front.  His gate, at a trot, does not cross, rather two right legs move forward together and two left legs follow.  When he slows down, this gate can easily change into the right front leg, left back leg working together and left front with right back leg.  When he speeds up two front legs work together and two back legs work together.  I am told that coonhounds can stop on a dime and change direction.  I have not seen Henry accomplish this.  I have seen a lot off skidding and sliding around corners, legs anywhere and everywhere, but supporting him.  His nose is good and will take him far off, into the distance, away from the audible call of my voice.  However, he is clever enough (and a bit lazy) finding it easier and more reliable to check pedestrian’s pockets than to take off after a scent.  He does not like to swim or chase a ball.  Soft toys will not turn his head.  He is food motivated.  Give him a scent and it is ON!!!

Even with the need to look at his feet, I would not call the coonhound a failed hunter.  If there is one animal that turns Henry into a prize fighter, it is the raccoon.  Unfortunately, I have had to witness this time and time again.  I believe Henry has about five or six fights under his belt.  I am not proud of his taste for raccoon.  I do not enjoy dressing his wounds.  The underside of his muzzle is all scared and the right ear has a chunk ripped off.  I do not know what happens to these raccoons, I only see the aftermath of Henry’s wounds.  I imagine that it is a grizzly fate for the raccoon that has run into Henry.

Fortunately, all other animals are adored by Henry.  He loves cats, rabbits, squirrels, gofers, dogs, and all people.  I have seen him chase a cat or squirrel and on the rare occasion that he catches up, or the rarer occasion that the animal stops, Henry stops too and looks around as if to wonder, “Why’d we stop?”  I have seen him sniff a gofer, get bitten on the tip of his nose, rear his head back (gofer flying high through air) and Henry’s  hundred pound body trembling trying to get between my legs.  He is pure sweetness and love.  

On occasion, Henry becomes the hunted.  When Henry was a puppy, he grew up with a kitten that he was very fond of.  My housemate (mother to the kitten) and I had to part ways and had to split up the friendship between Henry and the kitten.  For years, Henry would get excited with every orange cat he would see.  I finally got him an orange kitten of his own.  Delighted with his new furry kitty, Henry soon learned he was the target of the hunt and a new friendship.  Now, both adults, a hunt/play session does not last as long as in the past.  Play usually begins with Henry lying down, his kitty approaching carefully, a few swats at the arms and face and then a full face tackle, claws puncturing Henry’s eyebrows and lips.  Henry’s head pops up from the ground as his kitty dangles off his face, by one or two claws, falls, runs off, hides, waits for Henry’s head to drop to the ground again, butt wiggle and pounce!

I do not know much about the hunting instincts of the coonhound.  Most of what I know comes from information I looked up nearly ten years ago to make sure that Henry would be a good match for me.  It tickles me daily, watching Henry check his feet and run off for the hunt.  I prefer to provide him his meals, so a ‘failed hunter’ is a winner at the dinner bowl and a winner in my book.

This has been a difficult year for small business owners to manufacture their products in China.  At the end of 2006, my sales and marketing representative at Pet Product News, a large Pet Industry Magazine, gave me the heads up that there was talk of an article about overseas manufacturing.   Feeling anxious and out of sorts about my own manufacturing situation, I sent in a small write up, hoping to be interviewed or added to the larger article for a bit of free press for Oh Henry. 

The piece I sent in ended up as a letter to the editor in the January or February issue of 2007, I can’t remember and I can’t find my copy of the magazine.  However, I still have a copy of what I sent in about outsourcing, it reads: 

“Oh Henry has been in business for three years, offering travel gear for pets.  A few years before opening our doors to the retail sector, I sourced all the materials necessary for Oh Henry’s Car Coveralls (car seat covers for dogs) within the United States.  However, this would clearly not be cost effective if I would hope to compete with car seat covers already existing on the market.  So, I sourced the covers in Hong Kong.  Three years later, today, I am looking at increased prices and minimums.  China’s economy is booming and skilled factory labor is moving back to the small towns they once came from having been offered jobs at Starbucks and the like.  Unfortunately, with the loss of labor, small businesses are having a hard time competing, as the minimum order is out of reach.” 

With the start of the new year, the Year of the Pig, I had renewed hope that I would be able to pork out in excess with all the successes I planned for Oh Henry.  I spoke with my broker, a Chinese American man, who initially set me up with my contacts in Hong Kong and oversaw my shipping, quality control and offered his services if I had trouble communicating with the Chinese manufacturing team.  I told my broker all about the new products I planned to have made in 2007.  I was so excited and my broker was too.  But, I was not to bring home the bacon in 2007. 

With little help and hardly any contact with my broker throughout the year, I began to look elsewhere.  I have made contact with a new manufacturer in China.  The new manufacturing team is willing to supply smaller quantities and great quality.  It looks like Oh Henry is finally ready to move forward again.  

 I am not missing my broker.  The manufacturers and I have not had any trouble communicating so far.  I am even learning new English words like, “vexatious”.  I never meant to cause any distress.  Don’t worry, it’s all worked out.  Luckily, I have spent a good amount of time traveling in South East Asia, which helps with understanding some basic cultural differences.   

My broker also warehoused all the Oh Henry inventory.   I was paying too much for a large space to house inventory that was not growing and did not fill the space I was renting.  It took some time, but I finally found a new home, closer to myself, to warehouse my inventory.  This could not have been better timing. 

I emailed my broker to let him know that I had a new manufacturer and a new warehouse.  His response: 

“I am ready to send out an announcement that my company will no longer produce tangible products for our clients.  We will merge with another company and concentrate on servicing knowledge and education only.

It is good you move your inventory closer to you so you can control it.  Besides, we are not offering warehousing/fulfillment and closing down the warehouse shortly.

There are over 4000 factories who have closed their doors this year in the Southern region due to a new law in tax, rebate and currency appreciation.  It literally kills all the small operations throughout.  The bigger players now can demand larger volume on any projects.  Some factories say not bother if you do not have two containers a week.  That is the main reason we are shifting our business focus.  There is just no room for us to grow for our small business clients.  Everyone I approached request 100,000 units before they will even talk to us and there is no way we can cover and dig out smaller operators to accommodate our needs.”

Even my broker can be hard to understand at times.   However, small language mistakes aside, the message was clear.  My broker was dropping me and his other small business clients who has poured a LOT of money into seeing our small business dreams come true.  I am feeling very lucky and blessed to find a small factory in China to work with me.

I know the climate of China’s economy and the world’s economy is changing dramatically right now.  I am not familiar with China’s new taxes.  I do understand that their economy is becoming stronger and this is creating rapid changes. 

 I am happy to move forward into 2008 with Oh Henry hanging in there, as a small pet product player who will finally offer our Car Coveralls (car seat covers for dogs) in another color (gray).  Long live the small business!  Let all those vexatious struggles be put to rest. 

My mother’s dog, Shylo, is Henry’s best friend.  He is a chow/basenji mix.  Shylo and Henry act like littermates, although look nothing alike and have a two year age difference, Shylo being Henry’s senior.  This last year has been a hard year, full of difficult, expensive surgeries. Shylo is a very active dog that loves to run.  He has always been the fastest dog at the park and a game of being chased by one or more dogs can not be beat.

Five years ago, Shylo went running through the field near our houses.  While running at top speed, with his foot practically flush to the ground, something small like a shard of glass or blackberry thorn severed his Achilles tendon within a split second.  A startled Shylo broke his full speed sprint in the following split second.  He stood still on three legs with one raised, limp foot just dangling.

We took him to the vet.  This vet, highly recommended and a specialist in the area, reattached the tendon with the help of a graft to the tune of $3000.  Five years ago, we thought this was outrageous, but certain that our beloved Shylo must keep the leg and continue his passion for running, the $3000 was forked over, without hesitation and assuming it would be a permanent solution as long as the graft would take.  The graft took and for five years, although not quite as fast as before, Shylo would run circles around the field and other dogs time and time again.

Earlier this year, while on a walk, at a different park (Albany Bulb), Shylo was chasing ground squirrels over slippery rocks. A quick slip off one of the rocks and Shylo stood again on three legs.  Same foot dangling beneath a bewildered dog, who was more concerned about the squirrel that got away (even though they always get away). 

We headed back to the same vet, who preformed the original surgery, to find out the surgery failed.  The vet found this odd, as he told us he didn’t know these grafts to fail after they had successfully taken.  So, he suggested we have the same surgery again and the price now, five years later, being $5000.

Concerned about a 11 year old dog going through this same painful surgery, we were offered no guarantees.  This didn’t do much to ease the financial reservations we were having either.  So, my mother took him to Davis, the best vet school, on the cutting edge of vet procedures, techniques, medicines, etc..  Here, we were told that this same procedure would not be a good idea, the graft would unlikely hold and that we should consider fusing the ankle.  He would be able to walk on all four legs and even run a bit.  However, he would not be able to pick up much speed on his runs.  This was one of our only options other than leaving the foot to dangle, which seemed to bother him, or take the leg off completely, which we were told is easier for a younger dog to assimilate.  So, not including an extra $500 already spent on xrays at more than one vet office who all seem to have different digital systems set up, making it impossible for them to look at each other’s xrays, thus having to take their own and each charging the unsuspecting client, the price for fusing the ankle was $2500.

Little Shylo, not having had a drink, a bite or walk, could barely get his shaking three legs to keep up with a tight leash pulling him in through the door of next surgery room.  Once out of surgery, we were to begin another painful period of keeping a highly energetic dog from running or even walking for a few months.  I did what I had done five years earlier.  I went to the local thrift shop and bought a baby stroller to place him in so I could get him out the door with Henry to take in whatever he could smell and get a change of scenery.

I knew what came next, the disapproving looks and multiple choice questions; “Is your dog really old or just really spoiled?”.  I explained post surgery to some and let the others think whatever they wanted.  Henry’s attempts to get Shylo to play and wrestle, from a stroller, slowly subsided.

Soon Shylo was able to walk again, only on leash for 15 minute increments.  But something was wrong.  He put his leg down for a week or two, but began to hold it up again.  Mom took him back to the vet.

A mangled foot with a steel plate screwed to it, held the ankle together while the bone healed and fused.  The vets looked at the progress.  It did not look good.  Shylo seemed to be rejecting the steel plate in his leg and an infection around the plate and through the bone formed.  They needed to take the plate out.  Unfortunately, it could not be taken out until Shylo’s bone has healed.  So, his infection and pain got worse, while his bone was to heal.

A new day, a new surgery…again my mother would travel to Davis to bring an incredibly reluctant dog into surgery to get his steel plate removed.  For a mere $2000, we could have the steel plate removed and the bone infection would heal.  We were looking at more stroller time and sutures.

Yesterday, mom took Shylo back to Davis for the check up we assumed would have glowing reviews.  The diagnosis: not good.  The esteemed vets suggested that because the bone infection is getting worse, we schedule Shylo for three more operations.  The first operation would be to implant antibiotic beads directly into/on the leg.  The second operation would be to take them out.  The third operation they suggest would be to put the steel plate back in his foot.  Now how’s a person to see straight at this point?!

Feeling defeated and overwhelmed, my mother has brought Shylo over for me to look after, while she enjoys a weekend of rest and relaxation, bless her.  A gimpy Shylo and happy Henry will enjoy a sleep over until the next leg (pun intended) of this journey commences.

Although Shylo regularly visits the doggy chiropractor, who has probably been the most helpful of all, but can do nothing for a bone infection.  I think I will try a local Elephant Pharmacy where they offer advice in homeopathy treatments and herbal remedies.  Or perhaps I should call a Michael Moore about my Sicko Shylo and the Sicko vet bills that make us feel Sicko.  Too bad I don’t have his number. 

My favorite place to walk Henry in the Bay Area is the Bulb.  Somehow this place never gets crowded.  On weekends it can be a bit harder to park, but this doesn’t mean you and your dog will be surrounded by tons of dogs and their people.  Many people are afraid to walk there due to the homeless population and drug users who inhabit or frequent the place.  However, I have found all those living in “Bum’s Paradise” (a.k.a. the Bulb) to be friendly or at the very least, non confrontational about us tramping through their backyard.

It is a great place for a hound because they can dart in and out of bushes, searching for dog only knows, while the land is surrounded by a body of water on three sides, so their hunting will be contained to a space where you can find them again.  Or, perhaps, they will find you.

As for the walk, it is a beautiful place that you can enjoy the best view of the Bay.  Enjoy a view of the Bay Bridge, San Francisco skyline clear across the Golden Gate to the Marin Headlands and get a peek of the sleeping princess.  You can watch sailboats, catch a glimpse of seals or otters or an array of birds.  I have not yet seen the otters, but hear of sightings. 

Although I am not interested in the birds, my senior dog, Henry, has recently picked up birding.  I am finding my interest in the birds growing, at least to the extent that I find myself trying to figure out what birds interest Henry and why.  So far, I am a failed observer.  Size doesn’t seem to matter to Henry, color doesn’t seem to matter and whether they are on land or water or diving to catch fish doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t even seem to matter if they are moving or standing still.  Something is catching his eye and I haven’t a clue what it is.  I find myself as fascinated watching him, as he is watching them.

The art exhibits at the Bulb are also what makes it so special.  There is always something new.  One of the best known pieces would be the statue of the woman in a blue dress holding her arms out to you, as you descend down a path to the north side of the bulb.  This sculpture has recently been replaced with a metal and wooden version of a woman.  My mother met the sculpture/lawyer and his wife and is sure that the sculpture of the woman is his wife.  There are many other incredible sculptures, as well as some weathered paintings.  Luckily new art always pops up around the Bulb, like shoe trees and tennis ball flowers, particularly frustrating to the ball loving dogs.

Whether you have a ball dog, hunting dog, swimming dog, beach dog etc., there is a place for you and your dog.  I have a girlfriend who has a baby and dog.  The open savannah part of the Bulb, near the parking, works great for her-no dog getting wet and easy to push a stroller around.  Another friend allows her dog in the water, but doesn’t want her dog in the sand.  She hikes to an area to the far end of the bulb where the rocks lead up to the Bay’s edge.  Has your dog just had Advantage or an ear infection?  Take your dog walking along one of the many interior paths, away from the water and wind.  Is it too hot outside? Walk the perimeter of the Bulb and stay cool, just mind your step on some slippery rocks.