No Loss in Animal Magnetism

You know, when I started C.R.O.W., I wondered if as many animals would find me in my personal life outside of C.R.O.W. Needless wonderings, really.

Tonight at the store, we were greeted at our car by this fellow, looking much like this:


His tail was between his legs, he was clearly nervous, but he didn't hesitate when the car door opened. He hopped right in and came home with us, and his excited noise was thrilled with our crumbfull car. The crumbs weren't enough, however.


This hungry boy didn't take his face out of the bowl for even an instant until it was licked clean.


He doesn't like cats, but responds quickly to correction. He's very vocal and cocks his head at me when we talk to each other. He's neutered, has a small abrasion on his nose and some mats in his fur, and smells of farm. He's very smart, like almost every heeler I've known. We're calling him Jack. I sure hope we find his people soon. I hope he HAS people.




Wish him luck, please.

I'll have to blog about the pigeon later. Yeah, you heard me. Pigeon.

Seriously?

Yesterday's little dogs were reunited with their humans at about 8:30pm last night. Yay!

Got home from a morning errand at about 11am today and found this old lady waiting for us in the front yard. All I could do was laugh. I mean, come ON!





She's sweet, loves the kids, drools a ton, and most of her teeth are worn down to little nubs. The kids say they saw her roaming on Saturday when Grandma took them to the parade, so she's been loose for awhile.






I'm working on tracking down her people from her 2006 city registration tag.
PSA: Put collars and tags on your dogs and make sure the info is CURRENT!

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Safe House

I think the local animals have all marked my mailbox and tree with big urinary indicators that flash "Safe house! Safe house!"

Look who was waiting for us at the mailbox when we stepped out today.




Pardon the crappy pictures. They were a bit squirmy.

Surely these sweet little Maltese girls are missed. We've canvassed the neighborhood with no takers yet, but I'm hoping their people are just at work. The girls' feet are dirty, they were hungry and thirsty, and the little one is thin and matted. I'm printing fliers as I type.

Wish them luck!

Serendipity

It's been a critterful couple of days.

Yesterday I visited the cats at the shelter and found that a former foster of mine, Honey, was terribly sick. Her eyes were glued shut, her nose hermetically sealed with dried snot, and she was a bit dehydrated because she couldn't coordinate drinking and breathing in her condition. Weak and snotty, she accompanied a human to the vet and they came back with interesting instructions that Frank and I had to implement. Have you ever had to medicate 20 cats at a time? Okay, imagine it. Now imagine that not only do they receive meds by mouth, but also nose spray and eye drops. Twenty cats. Twice a day. Can you believe I do this voluntarily?

So for the past two days, I've been the official cat restrainer, and we have five more days to go. The good news is that the Honey, by far the sickest, is already improving, so all this hard work should result in a big roomful of adoptable cats again.

The same vet that diagnosed Honey and sentenced me to a week of cat wrestling, also fixed up a wounded foster dog earlier in the day. A tall, wiry, terrier mix, Fish is not my foster, but he and I really connected when he was at the shelter prior to going into foster care. (Yes, Fish. I know, I know. He came with the name and now I can't think of him as anything else.) Anyway, Fish has major issues that extend far beyond his name and he bit the crap out of everyone at the vet's office. After they did his surgery, they refused to let him recover there and shelter folks had to come pick him up; this is the first dog I've known personally who was banned from the vets office for life. He also bit the shelter guys as they got him ready to come to the shelter and again after they let him out of this carrier so he could lay on blankets. I arrived awhile later and loved on him a bit (I could tell he remembered me), and by the time evening rolled around and it was time to close up, I was unanimously nominated to be the one to get Fish back in his crate. I think others may have gotten impatient watching me with him, but I coaxed him into his crate with love and patience and cheese, and he ended up going in on his own, with no trauma or upset to either of us. Mission accomplished!

Now, the big news. About two months ago, I brought home Banjo. Since then he has become a romping, affectionate, playful, obedient, loving little dog. At home. When out and about, he's still very timid, but will let people pet him if I'm holding him. He adores me completely, thinks he's my dog, and more than once I've caught myself thinking of him as mine as well. Last night we had a little photo shoot, and then he slept in my bed because his beloved crate had been usurped by an escaped shelter chihuahua that I'd finally caught and brought home until I could return him this morning. (Usurper went to a great foster home today.)

The Usurper:


Banjo Beans, last night. Feeling playful:


He hasn't put on a lot of weight, but is otherwise doing very well. Here he is in all his sweetness.





When he got neutered last week, I spent the whole day missing him and kept looking for him in his usual spot, only to be surprised when he wasn't there. With his existing issues, I figured I'd foster him for several more months at least, and was concerned about his ability to find a home when he was already so attached to me. We had an extra fun and bonding night last night, which was quite serendipitous.

Well. Today he got adopted. Adopted! It was so hard to give him up, and I know he's so scared and will be for awhile, but the couple who took him have kind eyes and gentle hands and patient spirits (and all my contact information). I know he is in a good family. They know that he can come back to me if for any reason it doesn't work out for them. And I know that I can foster dogs without keeping them all, which I would never have known if I had kept Banjo. I love him and miss him and there is a hole where he was. His presence also helped curb my ache for Penny and now I feel as if it has been ripped open again.

I'm all raw and sore inside. I know I did the right thing, I know this is what we were working toward, but I need to go off and have a good cry.

The Talk

Elmo! Elmo! Elmo!

Take a deep breath and be prepared to concentrate:




Now, relax, and enjoy the 20 second cuteness.

Thanks, Joe

They find me.

When we arrived home from our outing, the kids and I were greeted by a stray in our front yard. My dog-smart kids avoided contact and actively pretended he wasn't there while I checked him out. Nervous and flinchy at first (thus having the potential for fear-biting if startled), he didn't take long to trust me completely.

I found his happy spots, the kids brought him food and water, I pulled out tons of his winter coat, we hooked him up to the mailbox, and we all hung out in the front yard for several hours waiting for Steve (animal control) to come by. (He was scared when roaming, his pit face might cause others to see him as a threat, and the shelter was closed today.) Leo named him Joe and we'll see him tomorrow. Thanks to Joe, we had a nice afternoon outside in our shady front yard.

Here's our afternoon benefactor:

Half shepherd--


Half Pit Bull--



He was happy and grateful and lovely with the kids and cats both. When did I become such a dog person? How the hell did that ever happen?


While we waited, Marian practiced her new skill.




Baby sister Sophie looks up to her big sister--can you tell?




Note the lack of training wheels on Leo's bike.


Note the lack of teeth in Leo's face.


Helmet hair to counteract the fluffy pics posted awhile back.

Miscellaneous Menagerie Musings

Peek-a-boo. Dozing doggie. This is where he spends most of his time, though more often with his head peeking out the top.

Banjo likes the sling, cheese, and grass. His first bests. He walked a lot (for him) today, but unless I walk backwards in front of him, he goes in circles (around me) or paces anxiously. His legs are getting stronger and he willingly went up 3 porch steps to follow me. I force nothing and all my movements are very, very slow; my pedometer is getting quite annoyed. He continues to get world-blurring shakes around dogs and adult humans (other than me and Frank), but stays calm around my kids and even touched noses with cats with no problem. I see him befriending a cat in the future.




He are the other dogs, minus Penny, under a living room window. This is where they tend to hang out in the afternoon and evenings and where they sleep at night until they sneak in with me. Gus wears his diaper 100% of the time he's indoors (we're all happier), and Cesar looks demonic in this picture, but generally isn't.



Cesar's doing doggie yoga, right next to Sophie's yellow yoga mat.



Manny.

There was a lady had a dog...

And Banjo was his name-o.





When I brought Banjo home a couple days ago, I discovered what a mess he truly is. The slightest thing makes him shake so hard his whole world must turn blurry. He was terrified of the floor, the kids, the air, everything. He peed and pooped indiscriminately, and spent most of the time with his snout buried in my cleavage. (Ah, who wouldn't enjoy that?)

I've learned more about where he came from. A man in Ft. Garland was breeding chihuahuas and had 130 chihuahuas in tiny carriers in a small camper on his land. Banjo and the others never once received any kind human contact, never set foot on the ground, never smelled fresh air, never went for a walk, never had room to jump, never played, never loved, never lived. Of the 130 dogs, 127 were immediately euthanized due to severe health problems. This, my friends, is the truth about puppy mills.

Only 3 of the 130 remain. 2 are terribly aggressive, and bite and bark almost constantly. Nobody has succeeded in picking them up without ending up bleeding.

Then there's Banjo.

Because I'll be leaving town for 5 days at the end of June and won't be able to take him with me, I want him to get accustomed to both home and the shelter. So he'll be spending some nights at the shelter since I don't want him to be traumatized when he has to stay at the shelter during my trip. He slept there last night.

Today I picked him up for a field trip, and he accompanied us to the bank, Sonic, and the park. He enjoys riding in the car now and looks around interestedly from his perch in the sling on my chest, sniffing the wind without trembling in fear. He ate a few specks of grilled cheese sandwich from my fingers. He watched the kids and let them touch him. But the two biggest milestones today were these: (1) He licked my fingers and my chest, and (2) He stood up and walked around. Yep. Nobody had ever seen him stand up to his full height and actually walk. After a couple minutes his legs started shaking, not from fear, but from lack of use.

He clearly enjoyed basking in the sun and eating some grass, and he pottied outside of the sling this time. I was mistaken in my weight estimate, not realizing how big his frame was. He weighs closer to 7 pounds, but as you can see here, he is severely underweight.


I cannot wait to see his tail up and wagging. It will be a long road, but I'm up for it I think. He's at the shelter again tonight, but tomorrow morning I'll pick him up and keep him until Monday at least. More updates to come.

Learning about love:

I got a banjo

Banjo.



See those metal rings by his face? Those are the sling rings. For those who are familiar with baby slings, that will give you an idea of his size. He probably doesn't weigh any more than 5 pounds, is about 10 months old (aka close to full-grown), and is my new foster dog. He was rescued from a puppy mill that got shut down, he has never known love, is unfamiliar with kind human contact (but has been injured by them), and has spent days trembling around the clock at the shelter. His terror has not abated at all in that time, so today I brought him home and he is asleep against my heart. His trembling has stopped. I will teach him about love.

Joyful Dancing Dog

A Good Tuesday

Toby came through his neutering well, so my concerns about anesthesia were needless. He charmed the vet staff with his sweetness and clumsy antics. (His CH is mild, and he's not so clumsy that he evokes pity, but rather amusement. He is so not bothered by his condition that it is didfficult for anyone else to be before long. His sweet goofiness makes clumsiness really work for him.) When the time came to pay for his neutering and his new eye drops (for his chronic eye issues), they told me my total was just over $5. Yep, $5. Someone anonymously put money on my account, leaving me with a credit that covered almost all of today's visit. Thank you!

Sleeping off the day



The other night I cried for Heidi and Penny for the first time since the night Heidi died. I've since been wondering if I'm supposed to just let Penny go so I can heal, since the two events are so inextricably tied together in my head and heart now in spite of being otherwise unrelated. A kind Sgt. Lopez called today from the police department and asked me a bunch of questions about Penny and our situation, and said he wants to find out who took her. It's been three weeks, and if a town cop isn';t giving up, I'm not either.

I'm still here for you, Penny. I know you want to come home as much as I want you here. Go now in peace, Heidi. Go now in peace.


I rarely attach myself intensely to dogs at the shelter, since I'm mainly "the cat lady." Every now and then one gets to me, though, and I've been fortunate that all have been adopted to good homes. Today I got news that Henry--a mostly deaf, mange-ridden, cancer-suffering sweetheart of an old dog--would be getting euthanized on Thursday. His treatment expenses were so far beyond the shelter's capabilities that there was no other option, and I understood completely. I'd been expecting this, so I told him goodbye, and wondered if I was supposed to be by his side when he crossed over. A couple of hours later, I got a call from the shelter with good news--one of their regular donators has chosen to taken on the expense of ALL of Henry's treatment! (Frank, don't think I don't know that you went to her on both mine and Henry's behalf, either, you big softie.)

So today Henry got knocked out so the vet could clean out his horribly infected ears, and they determined that he still has some hearing left in one of them. I'll be helping to bathe him with special medicated mite shampoo every four days for the next month to heal his skin, and I don't know what his cancer treatment will be. He is an old dog with a gimpy front leg in addition to everything else, but the vet thinks he's got a few good years left in him, even with the cancer on his nose. I went to see him after his treatment this afternoon, and he was like a whole new dog. For the first time he had some bounce in his step, and a big smile for me. I went back to the shelter for a third time today just to get some pictures of him. Isn't he cute?




A smile!



Handsome old shepherd



A future ahead.



It's been a good day. Thanks for reading.

Furry love.

Cesar (my dog who almost died of parvo right after I got him last year), and Toby (a long term fosterling with cerebellar hypoplasia).

And yes, he'll be getting his nails clipped ASAP.

Soulful Sunday

Today I researched my ayurvedic dosha, psychic children, aloe vera properties, sunflower seed butter, gluten-free foods, and care of puncture wounds. The kids and I played nearly an hour of Sight Word Bingo and did a hilarious Mad Libs. It's been an interesting day, and much better than I anticipated when I woke up much too late feeling like complete and utter crap.

Gus hums. Yes, Gus the dog. You know, the one with the doggie diaper and backyard anti-digging collar. He hums.

I seem to attract odd animals into my life with almost supernatural regularity. Too bad I can't put that on my resume.

Problem Dog II

Problem dog, foiled? Think this will keep the digging escape artist in the yard?

My problem child.

These little doggie diapers/ belly bands are so freakin' awesome, I have to say. I have them in three fabric and there are a lot to choose from. I just stick a diaper doubler in there (any maxi pad or the like would work as well) and velcro it shut. They do lay totally flat, but I'd just slapped that one on without paying attention. Gus doesn't mind it a bit and goes about his life as though nothing is different. I'll have to get a picture of him lifting his leg next time.

Moms of incontinent dogs everywhere, unite!

Sweetie Doggydums

Walked in my beloved front door many hours after leaving it behind me this morning, only to discover that only two dogs, not three, were there to greet us. Shit. I had about 85 messages on my machine from the enthusiastic alley neighbor who found him last time, and after the steak diner, yes, STEAK dinner they fed him, "sweetie doggydums" (as they have affectionately dubbed him) will never want to stay home. He has a formal invitation to join them for dinner tomorrow night.

Annie

"Abscess Annie" was in my home from May 20, 2007 to June 26, 2006. It's hard to believe she was here only just over a month; it felt like much longer.

Annie came to me after languishing at the shelter with horrible abscesses all over her back. She was simply unable to receive the kind of intensive care she needed in that environment, despite the workers' best efforts. While nobody knows for certain what caused her injuries, professionals speculated that she was doused with gasoline and possibly burned. She had already been in the shelter for quite some time when I brought her home.

She had 6 large abscesses covering her back, many of them oozing puss. She had a raging fever, and was severely emaciated, though her thick fur hid it from first glance. I'd never seen an adult cat so skinny. The pictures don't even begin to do the damage justice. :(

With a lot of TLC, antibiotics, twice daily abscess lancing, draining, and cleaning (eew!), and high-quality kitten food and canned food, Annie began to put on weight and recover. Then suddenly she took several steps back. Just as I thought all her abscesses were gone, she developed a very high fever, and her hip bones felt mushy and hot. I feared the tissue had turned necrotic, and rushed her to the vet. The put her under anesthesia and cleaned her out as much as they could. At this point the shelter had spent as much on her as they could, and the rest of was to me, Annie, and fate. She got worse for a few days, then finally began improving again.

The whole time she was in my home, she was nothing but utter sweetness, even when she felt her worst.

By the time I returned her to the shelter, she was a solid, hefty, and healthy cat. She has since been spayed and her hair is growing back beautifully. She is not happy to be at the shelter, but greets me warmly when I visit her near daily. Please keep your fingers crossed that she'll find her forever home soon.