10 posts tagged “dogs”
Show us a puppy.
Our puppy Oliver is such a cute handful though our senior dog Maddie will always be our puppy too.
Since we lost Wrangler (something I still really can't fully talk about) we've kept our eyes on Craigslist and the local shelters. Though Rain does not have the history I do, she understood that since my first memory, I've always had dogs. It's built into my psyche. Not only do I feel unsafe without them but...the loss of that leaves me feeling not quite whole. So though we just lost Wrangler, we understood that Maddie still has mouth cancer and it is an inevitability that we will lose her as well. We wanted to take in another dog before that happens. That way, Maddie would help keep the new dog in line and when that terrible time comes that we have to put her down because the tumor is too large in her mouth, we'll be forced to not close ourselves off. After all, that dog would be there to remind us that though the loss is substantial, the relationships are worthwhile.
With that in mind, we had been looking forward to the Super Adoption event that was held this last Saturday. Shelters from all around the area would bring hundreds of cats and dogs to the event, already spayed, microchipped, and ready to go home. Because Rain worked the night before, Tabby and I took my sis and we went and looked for ourselves first. At first, I was disappointed since there were very few dogs that met what we were looking for. We wanted a large breed dog because I've never liked small dogs and we wanted a senior, because they tend to be so well mannered already and so few people are willing to even consider them. The problem was that the shelters were bringing only the dogs they thought most likely to be adopted. That meant small and young. I only saw one dog there that they admitted was a senior (out of hundreds, remember) and there was perhaps three or four that would qualify for our definition of large (80 pounds or so). On our first round, we were just looking for what was available. A little dog with an adorable face caught our attention the first time but we still went around the second time. I asked the staff after possible dogs left at the shelters that would meet our hopes. There were exceedingly few. One was a golden lab that was undergoing heartworm treatment, the exact same thing that we just lost Wrangler to. The staff woman tried to write it off as being something minor, though the dog had just begun, and in some ways I was angry because it belittled the loss and the threat these dogs represent to the community but I was also saddened because I have been hearing more and more about other heartworm cases. The main reason we put Wrangler down when we did was because his threat to the community. But because of the dogs being brought here after Katrina and the laxadaisical attitude people hold for its seriousness, it looks to be spreading anyway.
We would have left then but I remembered that small dog that had caught our eye. Within a few short minutes he had won our hearts. He is much smaller then any dog I'd usually consider, though some referred to him as large. He's 25 pounds and they told us he was 8 months old. In many ways, he was the opposite of everything we were looking for. But there was something in his eyes. We ended up adopting him. Soon after, we found out that in fact, he was not 8 months, that he was much closer to 5 1/2 months. That's the youngest dog my family has had since I was 11 and a rott pup followed me home. Also, he has the promise of getting much larger. Perhaps 4 inches taller and 20 pounds heavier, which makes us happy. He's really adorable and though he and Maddie had a rough beginning, they now get alone splendidly. He has yet to show very bad habits beyond a tendency to be mouthy when playing and jump up toward the table when there's food.
We will have him tested for heartworm ASAP.
In good news, something strange has happened with Maddie's tumor. It seems to have receeded. It no longer looks angry and she can close her mouth all the way again. It seems to be pulling away from the jaw and though it sound weird, it looks like if it continues to do that....that it'd fall off. It's the oddest thing but where the molar used to be almost fully encased, the tumor has pulled back, exposing the whole thing and allowing the top teeth to clench without causing problem. We tried to get a picture but were unable to. It seems very possible that the doxy (antibiotic) we're giving her is helping. Wouldn't that be an irony? That the simple med that was the first, supposedly-easy step for treating Wrangler, and the reason he had to be put down, might actually extend Maddie's life, something that we were told was little more than impossible?
We'll see.
Pics.
I just got home from having to euthanize one of our dogs. It's a really terrible situation and I find that I simply can't write about it. But the reason for this post is to mark what the first thing I read when getting back was. I was checking out the wonderful site, Jezebel, when I came upon this article. At first, I thought it was terrible luck to come across that right after having to put Wrangler down. But I think it was actually the opposite. What it said really helped me deal with the situation. So, thanks Jezebel. And thanks, Wrangler; love you, babe.
Quote:
As I've said before, adopting a pet is perhaps the most masochistic thing we humans can do to ourselves. We develop affection, friendship, and unconditional love for our companion animals, all with the knowledge that we will be completely bereft and broken-hearted when we (inevitably) outlive them. But the upside of that total buzzkill (sorry) is that those of us who grew up alongside animals are lucky to have experienced those emotions; through them, we were given the tools to cope with love and loss, specifically, the ability to understand that just because loved ones are out of our lives, the impacts they made remain.
Today was one of those days so here are 9 things I'm grateful for...
1. ibuprofen. My beautiful, invisible necessity.
2. Benedryl/Atarax. So versatile, such a life saver.
3. Hot cocoa. Simple and Scrumptious.
4. Sherbert. Fruity, yummy goodness.
5. Scrubs. Funny and great relaxer for bad day.
6. House. Love the layout of our house, so comfortable.
7. Dogs. Both of them are laying right next to me and are so sweet for however long we have them.
8. Kitty. Not only do we have kitty spayed but found her a good home.
9. Friends. Had a great conversation with 2 friends today.
Yesterday evening, we took Wrangler for his first trip to Starbucks. Of course we couldn't leave Maddie behind. And I thought it was a good opportunity to better his training and his feeling as being one of the "pack". I know that the first walk we took him and her on together the other day really made leaps and bounds in his behavior. He began listening when we gave him commands and didn't seem so ill at ease as the first couple days. I'm a big believer of walking your dog being the key to having well-behaved dogs. And I definitely believe last night's walk helped get him more into the hang of things. The dogs seem much more relaxed around each other and he seems happier.
I can handle both dogs while walking under normal circumstances. Maddie on the left and Wrangler on my right since he's stronger and I'm generally right-handed. If they were of the mind of it, I could definitely be pulled away but that's the same with even one dog of this size. They're both rather well-behaved so I think I can pretty much handle them on a walk by myself. That is until mud and little dogs are thrown into the mix. But I think I've learned something from that experience.
That will be another post.
There was a very nice woman working at Starbucks who gave each of them a doggie treat. She confided that she always carried a few in her pocket since a lot of people bring their dog and she's trying to get over a fear of dogs. We let her feed it to Maddie since we knew how she'd behave but I fed Wrangler because we've had him for a shorter period of time and weren't as sure about his behavior. Maddie's a huge teddy bear (while Wrangler is a bit more energetic but no less loving) so she pet Maddie for a little bit before going inside. The dogs behaved themselves wonderfully and I think within a few more walks, Wrangler will be in the hang of it all.
Here are some pics of the trip.
His name is Wrangler. He's an 8 year old black lab from a family up in the mountains.
Unfortunately, circumstances were such that they could no longer keep him and needed to find another home for him. We had planned to drive up to get him on Wednesday but a storm came in with snow and sheets of rain. So couldn't do that. Luckily, there was a break on Saturday and it was warm and beautiful for enough time that we could go get him. Here are some pics:
Maddie was of course up to any ride. We were happy to see that her and Wrangle got along very well. He's very strong. The first time I held his leash he nearly pulled me down a hill. I'll need to train him appropriately before Rain can walk him. Even then, I might have to be the one walking him. Still, he's an absolute sweety and though we are so happy to have him, I'm saddened that it had to be such a sorrowful experience for his last family. I really felt for them as they are going through some of the things we've had to go through this year.
The first night went rather well. He only cried a little bit. But around midnight, I was going to bed and he jumped up into the bed with me! We have a rule about the only piece of furniture the dogs can jump up on is the couch in the sunroom since it's our most casual room. I probably would be ok with the dogs sleeping on my bed with me but my grandma made me a wonderful quilt and it can't get dirty. So, though I was temped to let him sleep like that the first night, I thought it'd be meaner not to be consistant. And I refuse to have a double standard for my dogs. So, I tried to get him to sleep on the couch in the other room. Usually Maddie sleeps up there too though they both have dog beds too. As soon as I went back to go to sleep again, he jumped up on my bed again and refused to move. Here's vid and some pics.
Don't you love how he doesn't even budge? It's only recently that he's started taking us seriously. Usually I use more of a commanding voice when I expect to be answered but it was midnight and he was so cute and I felt so bad...Eventually I got him down by moving his dog bed into my bedroom but it in all probably took about a half hour. Which is a lot when it's already midnight and you're tired. Luckily, he seems to understand the house rules now.
Last night he got a bandana like Maddie. His is Spongebob and it has dual purpose. One is he looks so fricken cute. Another is that now I can see him outside at night by following the ghostly yellow bandana prancing around the yard. Very useful, mind you. What was really cute though was when the kids were saying goodbye to him last night. Specifically my neice Jaden who just can't pronounce his name. I had to get video of her cuteness.
Here are some pics of the dogs today. They seem to be falling into a groove which is so nice. I'm not one of those people that loves pets the most when they are "new". I want to get through that period fast. I love having everyone snuggly fitted into the family and knowing the drill. He's a really sharp, sweet dog so it's coming along really nicely. We're very happy to have him.
So, what did I do yesterday (yesterday having ended an hour ago)? Well, it was a rather uneventful day over all.
I ended up sleeping like the dead until I was called to save people from the wacked out dog! She was barging into everyone's room and being a menace. I feel bad saying it because I think this is a sign that she's getting very old and may be dying soon. But considering that everyone else in the house but me was calling for her head at 8 this morning, I don't feel like such an absolutely bad person.
Siobhan's cough is really bad. Really, really bad. It's now gotten to the point where if she laughs she goes into a coughing fit. And not a dainty cough. I mean this cough has character. More so than a seven year old girl should have coming out of her body. I'm getting really, really concerned. Of course, what are we going to do? Bring her into the doctor and have them give her steroids? We do not believe that is a good idea with my health history. We're worried that she's actually gotten this from Flavia, since she works with the sick.
I ended up cleaning and then I got a call from my mom. I picked it up. She was having car trouble. Her car told her that brake failure was immenient and to stop the car immediately. Of course, she wondered what the fuck to think about this. Especially since it told her to stop but that her breaks were about to go out. She was on an onramp onto the freeway to and from one of the busiest streets in the city. She had to stop the car on the ramp. She nearly got herself killed several times. She tried calling my brother. She tried calling my father. To ask either/or what the fuck to do! Meanwhile, her car is stopped on this busy ass onramp from a busy ass street. Then she calls me. Me! I am the only one to answer a phone. I answer the phone! Me! Anyone who knows me knows how ridiculous this is. She is freaking out on the phone because she's sure she's going to get hit (Siobhan is in the car with her) but she can't take the risk of moving the car because what if she can't stop it again? She tells me to call my brother again and again until he picks up. So I hang up and I call (Yes! Me! On the phone! Again!) my brother, making sure to unblock my number so he knows it's me. I don't leave a message because he has a long ass message. I just keep calling back again and again. And just at where I'm waiting for his message to go through so that I can leave him a message to call mom so that I could hang up and call her back and figure out what's going on and that he wasn't picking up, the phone beeps telling me it's mom on the other line. So I leave a quick little message telling him, "It's really important. Call mom." I hang up and pick up her line. She's still on the ramp. Can't get my dad. She's saying, "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. What should I do?" And I'm sitting there thinking, 'Could she possibly be on the phone with the worst person to be on the phone with, none the less asking car questions of?' But I try to calm her down and I tell her that I left my brother a message. She says, "Did you remind him to call me on my business cell phone because I left my main one at home?" And not only do I realize that no, I didn't tell him to call her through that cell phone, but that I didn't tell him to call her on a cell phone at all. And so, he could simply end up calling the house. So, I get off the phone with her and end up calling my brother again and saying, "This is really important. Call mom on her business cell phone." There. Done. I end up running and taking a shower. So that I could get presentable for people because mattering on how long this took, I could be greeting the guy scheduled to come by the house at 2. Finally, my mum and Siobhan end up back at the house. Hale and whole. Flavia had given them a ride.
Thus it must be officially noted:
My brother is little help.
I'm little more.
Flavia is a saint.
Figwit is an fanon abomination of all that is holy canon.
France has far too much history for my own good.
In the 18th century, the French weren't people. They were peacocks.
Yet, I digress.
Apparently, Passats have shitty breaks. Our mechanic said his son had to have new breaks put on his Passat after 15000 miles. Ours has twice that. Shit. We now need new breaks. That'll cost about 250 dollars at least. Shit. But at least Siobhan and mom were not killed by oncoming traffic. That would have been tragic and ironic. They lost their breaks but were harmed because they stopped? Well, I suppose when you lose your breaks, it's always the stopping that hurts. Still, I want people to mark the date. I was the ONLY one that picked up and spoke on the phone. I was no use in car questions, but I was asked them. Of course, it was by a remarkably desperate woman. But it still counts.
Then there was other stuff.
Then I decided that I was going to paint Noire's nails. I got two. I plan to wait until she's in the right mood, then try again. See, this is an obvious sign she loves me. She attacks peoples heads when they try to pet her belly. I try to paint her nails and she just get annoyed and gives a perfunctory hiss and I knew she was already in a bad mood. Still, I get credit for two nails claws. I only plan to do the front ones. How many front claws does the average cat have? Ironically, if she had scratched me, I'd be able to plan my next attack better from counting the claw marks. Of course, it may have messed up the polish on the two claws I did get.
I did an enormeous amount of work on research for my novel. Enormeous. So far, off the top of my head, I've studied: The Englightenment, The Revolution, Marie-Antoinette, King Louis XVI, the causes of the Revolution, top figures in France before and during Revolution, French Parlors, French Blue Stockings, Madam De Stael, Madame Jeanne Recamier, eighteenth century Fashion (both French and English), eighteenth century manners (both French and English), how to create Estate Names, 18th century first and surnames (both English and French), how monarchies and peerage works (both French and English), ranking, manners of address, manners of dress, Eunuchism, geography, working with honorable blue-blood and dishonorable blue blood, marriage laws, geneology . . . In other words a fucking lot. But I've got a great deal worked out now.
I'll probably post a bit more specifics about where I am in the novel later behind proper filters.
I had planned to ship out a couple packages today. But nope. No car. No packages. I swear, God seems to not want these people to get their packages.
I saw the Project Runway episode tonight. Ironically, it was on because my mother was in the room. But she slept through it.
Shit, my mind just went blank about the other things I wanted to post about in here.
Ah, some nice Youtube videos I've come across lately. Yes, I know I have a thing for Youtube. It's my crack. I could stop anytime I wanted to. Shut up! Stop attacking me! You don't understand me! Shut up! I hate you I hate you I hate you!
There ya go. I may have forgotten something really important. But unless it's a call for an organ donor, I'll probably survive to post about it.
Ass like a Hard-Core Slasher! She's so freakin' awesome. She must come to our BBQ, you guys. You must read her phone interview at OutZone.
Here's some pics of Laura Bennett in honor of her awesomeness:
Thanks to Crystal for giving me this link. Apparently, it's a Pug and Beagle mixed breed. They are really cute and I don't usually like tiny dogs. I think they are cuter than pugs. Mom, I know you love Pugs. What do you think?
Here's some pics:
