• 3/4 cup Flour• 1/2 teaspoon Baking Soda• 1/2 teaspoon Salt• 2/3 cup Butter• 2/3 cup Brown Sugar• 1 Egg• 1 teaspoon Vanilla extract• 1 1/2 cups oatmeal• cup Cheddar Cheese –shredded• 1/2 cup Wheat Germ• 1/2 pound Bacon — or bacon bitsCombine flour, soda and salt; mix well and set aside. Cream butter and sugar, beat in egg and vanilla. Add flour mix mixing well. Stir in oats, cheese, wheat germ and bacon. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets. Bake at 350 for 16 minutes. Cool and let the critters enjoy!

As the new school year begins, many teachers may consider adding a pet to their classroom. It sounds cute and fun, but before you make the big leap there are many factors to consider for the safety of your students and the animal.

The American Association for Laboratory Animal Science advises teachers to think first about why they want a classroom pet. Good reasons to adopt a classroom pet include a desire to share your love of animals or a specific learning objective which can only be met by having a pet in the room. If you’re hoping to teach the children responsibility by having a pet, think twice. A child should already have a sense of responsibility before they are asked to care for a pet.

Remember as the teacher, the primary care of the animal will be your job. You’ll need to bring the animal home for weekends and over the Christmas, Spring, and summer breaks. It will also be your responsibility to take the animal to the veterinarian for proper care, buy all the supplies needed to keep the animal safe and healthy, and meet its behavioral and psychological needs.

Deciding which animal to adopt is essential. The Humane Society says many animals do not do well in a classroom setting. Dogs and cats need more social interaction than can be provided by children. Bunnies are cute but sensitive animals-the noise of the classroom, moving from school to home and back, and overhandling by children can cause them to fall ill and die. Lizards are easy to care for but may also carry the risk of salmonella poisoning. Hamsters can also transmit disease to children. And birds tend to be too noisy and disruptive. The Humane Society recommends aquarium fish, rats, gerbils and guinea pigs as the best choices for classroom pets.

It’s best to send a note to parents informing them of your intention to adopt a classroom pet before you get the animal. This gives the parents a chance to warn you if their child has any allergies to animals.

Caring for the pet should be a reward for your students, not a punishment. You’ll need to monitor the children to make sure they are giving the animal food, water, a clean cage, and proper interaction. Establish a schedule and keep records of who completes the task each day. Be sure to put the animal in an area of the classroom that is relatively quiet and out of direct sunlight and drafts. You’ll also need a plan of action in the event that a child is injured by the animal or contracts an infectious disease from the pet. And in the event that your classroom pet dies, decide how you will handle the students’ grief over the loss of the animal.

There are other ways to teach children about animals without committing to a classroom pet. Some parents may be willing to bring their own family pets into your classroom for a special, supervised pet show-and-tell. Just be sure the animal is socialized and that your students understand the rules for interacting with the pet. You might also consider a class birdfeeder hung just outside your window, where students can watch wild birds eat and interact. You can invite an animal conservationist into the class to make a special presentation. Some conservation groups allow classes to adopt a wild animal for learning purposes.  Some good choices include the World Wildlife Fund, the Adopt a Seal program at the Marine Mammal Center and the Adopt an Animal program at the Cincinnati Zoo.
 

For more info: American Association for Laboratory Animal Science brochure on classroom pets

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was “bad,” you’d shake your finger at me and ask “How could you?” — but then you’d relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because “ice cream is bad for dogs” you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a “dog person”…still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love.

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch — because your touch was now so infrequent — and I would’ve defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered “yes” and changed the subject. I had gone from being “your dog” to “just a dog,” and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You’ve made the right decision for your “family,” but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said “I know you will find a good home for her.” They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with “papers.” You had to pry your son’s fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, “No, Daddy! Please don’t let them take my dog!” And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked “How could you?”

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room.

She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured ” How could you?”

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said “I’m so sorry.” She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn’t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself –a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.

And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my “How could you?” was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master; I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

Copyright © 2001 Jim Willis
All Rights Reserved

“I’ve seen a look in dogs’ eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts.” - John Steinbeck

“Even the tiniest Poodle or Chihuahua is still a wolf at heart.” - Dorothy Hinshaw Patent, Dogs: The Wolf Within

“When you feel dog tired at night, it may be because you’ve growled all day long.” - Unknown

“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring–it was peace.” - Milan Kundera

“Old dogs, like old shoes, are comfortable. They might be a bit out of shape and a little worn around the edges, but they fit well.” - Bonnie Wilcox ‘Old Dogs, Old Friends’

“If your dog doesn’t like someone you probably shouldn’t either.” - Unknown