Horst Hoefinger was born in Leoben, Austria at a very, very young age. Moving to the the United States at the age of six, he and his family ultimately settled in the upstate New York area.
It was here he developed his interest in dogs. Whether it was the dogs that slept with him in his youth or living with the dogs he rescued in his adult life, he developed the lifelong bonds that are created when you truly love an animal.
It was this passion that led him to write a book about his dog Bo, to give to his wife as a Christmas gift in 2006. He wanted to give his wife something to memorialize Bo’s life, something she could cherish long after Bo was no longer with the family. The book was written through Bo’s eyes about the adventures the family had with him over the past 14 plus years.
His wife Lisa enjoyed it so much that she found Bo a literary agent. Finally a canine with an agent! The newly released book (Oct ’09) is titled “BAD TO THE BONE: Memoirs Of A Rebel Doggie Blogger,” published by Kensington Books. Bo will undoubtedly make a guest appearance to let you know about it.
After 16 months as the bloggers on ‘For The Love Of Dog’ the Hoefingers are moving on to their next adventure. They will still be on Dogster everyday, and continue to be very active, just not blogging. You can always reach them via pmail, Facebook, or Twitter. You can stop by Bo’s author page at BAD TO THE BONE MEMOIR. And you can always order Bo’s book online at Amazon, or your favorite retailer. They will continue to write freelance and starting on December 1, 2009 blogging off of Anna Nirva’s SunbearBlogSquad. Of course you can always check out Bo’s blog; Bo Knows: A Funny Dog Blog to hear from the dog himself. Here you’ll find sarcastic, witty and funny commentary directly from man’s best friend on all things dog.
Horst now lives in the suburbs of Atlanta, GA with his wife Lisa and three dogs; Bo, Copper and Logan.bags Show
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
About Dog
The dog is a not later than 14000 years ago, even in May
Paper-cut dog photos (20) highlights a 16000 years ago, the southeast Asia have been domesticated a wild Wolf man from livestock. The dog, the Wolf is now under originated from the consensus, but around specific birthplace and time is controversial. So far, the first dog fossil evidence from Germany 14000 years ago is one of the mandible bone fossils, the other one is from the Middle East about 12000 years ago a small canine animal skeleton fossils, these archaeological evidence to support the dog is originated in southwest Asia or Europe, and on the other hand, the dog bone learn identification features tip the dog may be originated in the Wolf, the author proposed the dog east Asia origin said. In addition, different breeds of dogs in shape, he seems extremely rich diversity tend to dog originated in different geographical population of the Wolf hypothesis. So only on archaeology, it is difficult to provide clues to the origins of the dog reliable. Swedish scientists team of research of the five continents from 654 dog, analyzes their body a through the maternal inheritance is called "the mitochondrial DNA" the genetic material of the bases, found the dogs are almost the same with genes. They think, human and dog friendly origin can be traced back to 15000 years ago, when the first began, east Asia human domesticated animals such as Wolf, and in the long years of the domesticated dog gradually to Europe, and even across the bering strait brought to America. Think that east Asia, because in the east Asian region dog gene most abundant type, the scientists concluded that the region should genetic testing is the birthplace of the dogs, but not the past people always think of the Middle East. Peter gaza walter lai south said: "a lot of the early research based on the Middle East a small amount of archaeological materials, says the area is the dog place of origin, and in fact, there is some other domesticated animals, but not a dog." At the same time, through the comparison of the gene and the Wolf, and they believe that 15000 years ago, several different Wolf to differentiate into the dog. The study is from the two international study group has gone hand in hand with the land. On the other hand, the U.S. and Peru and other countries to the part of the scientific research team compared south and North America and Asia, Europe, the mainland of European colonists to dog and just before the American continent in Latin America and Alaska, the survival of the dog bases arrangement. Found Latin America and Sweden dog part of the genes from the past the Eurasian Wolf. This part of the gene in the 15 th century European colonists to America before it was in America on domestic dogs appeared. They think, the dog in east Asia origin and expand to the whole of Asia and Europe, and then in 14000 to 1.2 years ago by America's first group of settlers across the bering strait brought to America. Sweden a livestock expert thinks that the east Asia Johnson pearl is the first of a dog that the domestication is "very can convincing", America's first group of settlers took the dog, it shows before it for many years when the dog and Asian life together.
Paper-cut dog photos (20) highlights a 16000 years ago, the southeast Asia have been domesticated a wild Wolf man from livestock. The dog, the Wolf is now under originated from the consensus, but around specific birthplace and time is controversial. So far, the first dog fossil evidence from Germany 14000 years ago is one of the mandible bone fossils, the other one is from the Middle East about 12000 years ago a small canine animal skeleton fossils, these archaeological evidence to support the dog is originated in southwest Asia or Europe, and on the other hand, the dog bone learn identification features tip the dog may be originated in the Wolf, the author proposed the dog east Asia origin said. In addition, different breeds of dogs in shape, he seems extremely rich diversity tend to dog originated in different geographical population of the Wolf hypothesis. So only on archaeology, it is difficult to provide clues to the origins of the dog reliable. Swedish scientists team of research of the five continents from 654 dog, analyzes their body a through the maternal inheritance is called "the mitochondrial DNA" the genetic material of the bases, found the dogs are almost the same with genes. They think, human and dog friendly origin can be traced back to 15000 years ago, when the first began, east Asia human domesticated animals such as Wolf, and in the long years of the domesticated dog gradually to Europe, and even across the bering strait brought to America. Think that east Asia, because in the east Asian region dog gene most abundant type, the scientists concluded that the region should genetic testing is the birthplace of the dogs, but not the past people always think of the Middle East. Peter gaza walter lai south said: "a lot of the early research based on the Middle East a small amount of archaeological materials, says the area is the dog place of origin, and in fact, there is some other domesticated animals, but not a dog." At the same time, through the comparison of the gene and the Wolf, and they believe that 15000 years ago, several different Wolf to differentiate into the dog. The study is from the two international study group has gone hand in hand with the land. On the other hand, the U.S. and Peru and other countries to the part of the scientific research team compared south and North America and Asia, Europe, the mainland of European colonists to dog and just before the American continent in Latin America and Alaska, the survival of the dog bases arrangement. Found Latin America and Sweden dog part of the genes from the past the Eurasian Wolf. This part of the gene in the 15 th century European colonists to America before it was in America on domestic dogs appeared. They think, the dog in east Asia origin and expand to the whole of Asia and Europe, and then in 14000 to 1.2 years ago by America's first group of settlers across the bering strait brought to America. Sweden a livestock expert thinks that the east Asia Johnson pearl is the first of a dog that the domestication is "very can convincing", America's first group of settlers took the dog, it shows before it for many years when the dog and Asian life together.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
HOW COULD YOU? A DOG'S STORY
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 have 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 goodbye 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. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. 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 dog speak, 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 you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
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 have 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 goodbye 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. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. 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 dog speak, 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 you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)