Bully Sticks For Your Dog

Bully Sticks For Your DogBully sticks are made from beef, and are dog treats or chews that are made from the penis or pizzle of a bull. Thus it is made of pure muscle and nothing else. They are made differently by different vendors but are a favorite among all the dogs. They are frequently sold loose in bins and are dried without cooking for consumption. Many vets themselves are unaware of the body part used in bully sticks. If bully is mentioned in the name of your dog’s chewy treat, you can be sure that the penis is part of it.

Most buyers are aghast at this revelation, but soon get used to it as something the family dog is fond of.

How are they made?

When cattle are processed for human consumption, the pizzle or penis is gathered with other parts that eventually become treats for dogs. Trachea, gullets, lungs all become chewy treats. Though these parts are clearly spelt out on the packets, they are known as just that – bully sticks.

The penis, which measure about 25 inches is cleaned and hung out to dry so all the fluids drain off. It is then stretched to about 40 inches and then divided into smaller sticks. The standard length sold are 6″ and 12″ or anywhere between four and thirty inches.

How should you store them

You can store your bully sticks in zip bags so they can be used and reused again and again. You can also preserve them in the freezer to prolong their life and to increase their hardness. You can give 12″ piece to your dog and keep the remaining half chewed piece in the freezer and give it to your dog the next day after it has become hard. The freezer will keep it fresh. You should not store them in open as otherwise insects could attack and contaminate them.

Different types of bully sticks:

They may be curly, braided or full cane bully sticks. They can be even shaped like pretzels or rings.

How are they useful

  • They keep puppies and young dogs busy chewing, so that they don’t chew on footwear, curtains, newspapers and just about anything they normally like to do. It will keep them busy for hours together as it takes a long time to chew.
  • They do not have the danger of bones being embedded in them. They are pure muscle.
  • They are made 100% of a single natural ingredient and does not contain fillers. They are a good source of protein.
  • Dogs can be disciplined with the help of chewy bully sticks-
  • Since they are all natural, they tend to stay longer than other chewy products like manufactured bones.
  • They are good for the dental health of the dog.

Why they are not recommended

  • An obese dog could get fatter because of the protein content.
  • They are packed with calories with 9 to 22 calories per inch of the bully stick. Excessive feeding of these is not good.
  • They could be contaminated with bacteria. Pet owners are advised to wash their hands after use. An outbreak of salmonella was linked to contaminated dry pet food in 2010. E. Coli, Clostridium Difficile, Staphylococcus Aureus (MRSA) were some of the pathogens found in chewy treats.
  • While many pet owners are against the concept of pet food because they incorporate the byproducts of the meat industry, they are unaware that bully sticks are also a byproduct.

Where does the meat come from.

The pizzle or penis comes from free range cattle in South America, who are hundred percent grass fed. Most are odor free.

A Rich Semi-Reality: Eleanor Grace Miller’s Still Life Paintings

If Eleanor Grace Miller’s oil-on-board still life paintings of fabric and solid objects were photographs, the camera would have to be suspended in perpendicular alignment from the ceiling – and the lens would have to stay open for a long, long time. So dark and rich are Miller’s colors, that an almost surreal sense of depth infuses each carefully-arranged scene.

Miller’s work was lately on view at the wonderful Garrison Art Center, which backs up to the icy Hudson River in Putnam County just across from West Point; the show, with Hudson Valley painter Donald Alter, closed today.

Although realistic and fully representational, these are views that do not exist in everyday life – indeed, they are created by the painter herself; Miller has designed some of the patterns on the pottery and material in the paintings. So each view is not merely a collection of items interpreted by the artist – the still life itself is the creation. Each painting seems an execution of the original vision of color, design, and assembly.

The dominant colors are blacks and reds and gold, with bowls and fruit serving as the three-dimensional focal points for swaths of brilliant fabric, some of it designed by the artist specifically for the painting. The result is brilliant – a golden view at a simple world.

The object is a bright and clear vision. As Miller says in her exhibit statement with a quick slash of wit: “I dislike beige. I find it arbitrary: I like the clarity of color.”

He is uncouth but has a wonderful range of mind

With a crowd of family in tow in a sea of bustling fine art tourism, I took in the astounding Joseph Mallord William Turner retrospective at the Met last week, jostling through the headphone-wearers to gaze at a few of the finer works at some small length. Turner was an artist of empire, a prolific careerist who grew up as the son of a barber and wigmaker in London and set his sites on becoming the acknowledged heir to Europe’s great classicists. Yet his toil over a very long career spanned the tail end of the enlightenment, ignited as war swept the western world, and lasted long after, well into the industrial spread of the 19th century. And although Turner aimed for classical landscape fame, his later worked presaged expressionism in their layering of color and homage to light.

What a talent, and what range as well. There are the great historic paintings, of course – the Trafalgar images, The Field of Waterloo, and his near-journalistic work covering the great fire that destroyed the parliamentary campus in London in 1834. There are classical landscapes in strict diagrammatic patterns, and classical scenes. But there were two groups that stood out as favorites. One comprised everyday scenes of life in Turner’s times – times that also inspired the writing of a range of my favorite writers, from Austen and Dickens to the brilliant maritime series of Patrick O’Brian. The other was the later work, painted when Turner’s eyes were failing him, works that critics of the day dismissed as “the fruits of a diseased eye and a reckless hand.”

I stood longest before Keelmen Heaving in Coals by Moonlight, exhibited by Turner in 1835 and on loan from the National Gallery, where I’d seen it before. It is a media-sized oil painting of the waterfront at Newcastle, a portrait of every day toil in small boats and small ships. The sky is moonlit, almost like day, and the light and clouds form a sort of visual tunnel toward open water. The ships have that classic Turner lyric of beauty discovered in hull and sail, but it’s no longer the age of Napoleon – or the age of pure sail, either. Coal feeds steamship boilers, ships move under power, and the factories are open. There is work to be done even at midnight. Smoke sends its industrial signal into that brilliant sky, obscuring some masts.

You think: it would be the 1960s before England’s skies grew cleaner again. The coal-powered London fog of Sherlock Holmes was a wisp in Turner’s painting, but it was beginning to swirl. Jane Austen is dead, Charles Dickens had just started his journalistic career, and Wellington was his dotage. Victoria was a princess yet to ascend, Darwin was in the Galapagos, and on these shores, Texas won its independence and Mark Twain was born. I love images like this that blend a “wonderful range of mind” like Turner’s – as famously described by his rival John Constable – with a clear turn of history. Sometimes you can see so much, and come away the better for it.

Highly recommended: J.M.W. Turner, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, through September 21, 2008.