Category Archives: Pet

I got to watch about 1/2 hour of the Westminster Kennel Show this evening, Sporting Dogs. What an incredible group they had. I left to make dinner and never came back.

Before saying anything I must congratulate our dogs that served us well and are no longer with us. Chani was my rescue girl who ended up loving people, other dogs and raised my cats. Gus, the black Lab/Golden cross we cared for and was trained to go to the VA for pet therapy. Sunegga, everyone’s little ray of sunshine whose presence always lit up a room. Woody, the happy dumb Golden who dragged me to my house to visit… me. Micey, a dog rescued from a Brazilian forest who survived over 14 years. Makai, Hawaiian for guard, who was Chani’s best friend and when I took care of her, she attacked the vacuum cleaner and tossed numerous tennis balls into my bath. Gigi and Charlie and Harley, so many others. Savannah chose her clothing, still does. She’s the only one left of the original pack. She’s a four pound Yorkie and doesn’t fit into anything so Joan, the milliner (husband Jim married us) made her clothes. Her July 4th outfit is incredible. Denim on the outside, gingham inside, and a cap.

Now I have to say that MB is getting another dog, one with the temperament to be trained to visit hospitals and such. Losing Gus was a big blow. I have to say it was wonderful to see him one last time, the Gus-inator. He knew me and whined (very un-manly of him but he only does this with loved ones). He’s been gone some time now and MB has a pup in her sights. It may not be this one but here’s a cute photo anyways.

Hugging a Pup

We wish our friends all the best in their search for the best pup for them and for volunteer work when he/she is ready to go to work. Yes, dogs rule. But I wait to move out to the country where every stray dog and cat will find me. Jim’s highly allergic to cats but if I can make sure the outdoor cats are healthy and neutered it’s OK.

If I ever met a guy who didn’t want to pet a puppy or kitten, relationship ended, period. If my dog growled at a potential suitor, forget the guy. Ladies, I’m not saying get a dog or cat, just borrow one you know well and see how it goes. It’s a good man-meter.

I’ve been off the market for too many years and don’t twitter or tweet, but know that if a guy treats his mother well, that’s how you’ll be treated as his spouse. If he instinctively pets the dog tethered outside the community grocery store, he’s probably a good guy. If the dog growls at him, watch out!

Luckily, I married an inveterate dog-spoiler who is terribly allergic to cats. In order to date me, he bought me a cat feeder, electronic with frozen compartments that rotated on a battery. See Techie. It worked. We’ve been married for years. It’s funny to see his early ploys all dealt with my animals. Happy trails, Dee

There are many birds on the farm, before that I’d like to ask that Margie contribute a piece on farm life, whether it be cattle, goats or birds, as a guest editorialist. Let’s hope she accepts the challenge.

Just this morning, I saw at least ten male cardinals, Jim saw a bluebird. I saw a hawk 20 feet away sitting on a fence post, the largest hawk I’ve ever seen and the first I’ve seen so close. I think she had her eye on the sick pup, who wisely hid in the garage. I watched her for a moment and yearned for my camera 350 miles away. Then I opened the door to see her take off and fly and see those wings. It was magnificent.

I can’t tell you that my eye or camera would have gotten any of those shots but my mind did and I’ll always remember this morning as I did yesterday afternoon, when I walked into the bathroom and saw goats in the driveway! The gate was left open and they were five feet away. We herded them back into the pasture.

It’s very interesting watching herding animals and seeing how they reflect on human culture. Picture fashion. One fancy goat goes one direction, everyone else follows.

We left town this morning and watched cardinals flitting across the road. Later on we saw guinea hens right by the highway. Going to the farm centers us, lets us be in touch with the land and people who strive every day to make a living. They’ll have nothing to do with this “stimulus package” and only think of it as government robbing peoples’ pockets to give more money to Wall Street and the rich.

The farm we see now, where Jim’s parents have lived for nearly 30 years, will be flooded by the government, and they’re forced to move. Today Margie was looking at a farmer’s magazine saying that the EPA wants to exact a tax of $187 per cow for a “methane tax,” and they just sold cows they’d bought and spent hundreds to raise for $500 per head. They made no money and if they were assessed another $187 on top of that loss and our recession farmers would be out of business.

I don’t think the American public wants to give up milk or beef anytime soon, so one might look to ask the farmers what they think. Not the farm lobby, the farmers. So before you let the EPA put all farmers out of business, if Senators or Representatives want to visit I’m sure folks there will make the time. Don’t be put off by some sweet tea or a dessert, it’s just tradition.

The stimulus package is evident. It’s us! In 1776 we pledged to be an independent nation. We never envisioned having the government owning and buying our banks and insurance companies. This is we, the people, paying forever for this bailout. We, the people need to do better and make our Congress and President accountable. Did I tell you how beautiful is the male Cardinal, flitting about? Dee

One could say that in the French, as re-su-me (don’t expect me to do the ague or whatever I haven’t done since college), or English as to resume.  I actually found a job of interest today.  It utilizes skills I learned at a younger age and have not been involved with for several years.  But one of them is writing, check on that, working with people, yep, and other qualities I exude.

Now I find that we have a couple versions of Jim’s (husband) resume and none of mine on this nearly two year-old MacBook and placed my old files on it.  I can’t find them for the life of me.

The worst of it is that our five year-old mutt Zoe has two resumes!  I wrote one to get her into a boarding/daycare facilities and another for instructions for feeding et al.

How can I look for a job at my age and a few years out of the public market when I have to start my resume from scratch?  Perhaps I’ll do it much better this time.  Perhaps a perfectly written letter will get me in the door for an interview.

My immediate circle of life has become about my husband of now six years and my dog who is now five and all the things that come with those responsibilities.  Cooking is a passion, as are free spay/neuter programs for low-income pet owners and education on the same issue for all.

Perhaps when Jim and Zoe arrive from their walk I’ll nearly have dinner ready and he can use his magic to find my old computer files.  Must go now.  Hope you had a great day.  Cheers, Dee

While in L.A. this weekend, I was asked a question and answered without a pause. “What do you think about people who go to a breeder instead of adopting a shelter pet?” was the question.

I answered, to the consternation of many friends who subscribe to the “do not buy while shelter pets die” theory, I said that it’s up to the individual. If Jim’s father needs a cattle dog, he’ll get one. Probably from another farmer.

I’ve worked with dogs and cats most of my life, and spent 15 years working in shelters and spay/neuter clinics. I get shelter animals. That’s my choice. My first cat was born of Mija, my sister’s cat, fell off the 7′ shelf he was born on in her garage and Mija wouldn’t nurse him after that, so she sent him with my brother, cross-country on a plane at five weeks. It was 1987 and I had no clue about cats.

My first dog was severely abused and in the shelter for a year before she became a danger to others and herself.

They had a staff meeting and considered euthanizing her. Luckily I was volunteering that day and a fellow volunteer turned staffer alerted me to that and the next day she was home with me. It took an intensive six months and immediate obedience training, but after six weeks she was lying on her back with legs spread out, not a frightened dog at all! And she was a constant companion and love for ten years.

Jim and I got married nearly six years ago and vowed to get a dog. I wanted a shelter dog, but a pup so I could train her and see if we could have one “normal” dog in our lives. We fell in love with Zoe, an Aussie mix, aka Runty Mutt at six weeks of age. She was the test to see if Jim could be a good Dad. He failed miserably and she loves him for it. I’m the disciplinarian and he lets her do anything she pleases. As my brother says, “she’s awfully needy” and she’s a herder so that is true.

Our good friends are adopting a purebred English Lab very soon, from a TX breeder. I’d show you a photo but they haven’t given me permission to do so. Their last Lab/Golden cross, Gus, was a sweetie who we regularly housed when they were away. He was trained as a therapy dog at the VA. This dog will be trained as well, and it’s wonderful that our friend MB does this.

My beef is after you choose the dog. Know that it needs shots, vet visits, training, a place to stay when you’re away, regular walks, good food and love. I don’t care what dog you choose or where it came from. I care that you know your responsibilities will last at least 10-15 years and you have to commit to that timetable. In my lifetime I’ve helped put four animals down. The first, my family’s Collie, I wasn’t there but gathered up her things and ran the bill and coached.

This is a phase of life every pet owner should go through (small children, perhaps not). But saying goodbye to Fido or Fluffy is a rite of passage and you will know that they had their loved one there in their final moments.

A word on cats. Nathan was a talkative joy, a Burmese/Tuxedo DSH from my sister. He lived to 13. Mick was a feisty one I had for seven years and then gave to a neighbor when I married Jim, as he’s allergic to cats. He was from the shelter, nine weeks of age, a Tuxedo DSH that loved every dog in the neighborhood (my old dog raised him) and certain dogs would run away from home and I’d get a phone call. Is so-and-so at your place? Yep. He wrestled with the Llhasa and Shih Tsu next door and let his adopted Corgi place his entire head in his mouth. A wild and crazy guy.

It was an interesting question. Another thing to keep in mind is your lifestyle and how a pet meshes with it. Don’t think a big dog can’t flourish in a small apartment. They sleep much of the time. As long as they have regular long walks or time at the dog park, they’re fine. That’s my work for tonight. Thanks for reading. Dee