In every group of puppies there is one who always putters off in the wrong direction, and one who constantly complains.
The latest batch decided to economize, and have one puppy doing both jobs.
My newest foster puppy just is not getting the concept of drinking from a bowl.
A year from now I will be sitting there with a 110 pound Rottweiler on my lap nursing him from a gallon jug.
Phoebe is in pretty good shape. Pooping worms like she’s getting paid. But now that they’re starting to go – she is starting to eat. All fleas and ticks are off. Life is good.
(On the rare batch of kittens)
So far Rippa is the only who is not buying the “we got new puppies” story. But she’s playing along because Emma is giving her hell if she gets too close to the babies.
It is Runty-Bits who first popped an eye open today, and Velvet who first popped a poop out all by himself. Well he did – one time. Not dancing in the aisle quite yet.
Thank God for spare keys. Now if I only had a spare brain!
Dropped my keys when feeding the puppies. I have no clue if I picked them up, and then put then heaven knows where, or if the puppies dragged them off to heaven knows where.
In any case, they’re heaven knows where.
11 dogs of all shapes and sizes are sleeping with me in the 200 square feet that is my bedroom tonight. Keeps me nimble-footed in my old age.
4am. Emma hops up on my bed and promptly throws up all over the place.
Dear Emma: if you just wanted to say “Wake up, Sunshine!” there are other, BETTER ways to say that.
My dogs played musical bed last night.
We started off the usual way with Gudrun on her quarter of the bed and me on my half. Then some commotion made her jump off and go outside. Emma, who is no longer allowed on the bed, jumped into Gudrun’s place and plopped down with a grunt of utter joy. I didn’t have the heart to make her leave.
Of course in short order my half bed was only a third and when I returned from getting some water I only found enough space to spoon up to Emma’s back. Would be nice in the winter. Not so now. She puts out some serious heat.
Next thing smart Gudrun let out a big bark, Emma fell for it, and jumped off the bed. Like greased lightning Gudrun took back her space, and the rest of the night was uneventful.
Here’s why little lap-yappers have a leg up on the bigger dogs.
When I’m eating, little Gracie shows up with the “I’m desperate here” look. When I can’t stand those begging eyes anymore, I hand her a morsel which she daintily takes.
If I were to allow Emma, the Great Dane, to beg, I would have to fork over half of what I’m eating. This, she would slurp out of my hand leaving me sopping wet and slimy.
Every once in while I have plans for my day that require a little brain function, today being such day. Sleeping well the night before helps in that department.
But NO! Gudrun went to bed, happy as a clam, then woke up, jumped off the bed and started walking around. Click, click, click on the wooden floor. She did not want to go out, did not want to go to bed, did not want anything I offered. Just click, click, click. No obvious injuries, no discernible pain in any body part. Just click, click, click.
At 4am I got up, no sense lying there any longer.
She now sleeps like a log on the floor.
Emma fell off the bed. Luckily it was Gudrun who slept on the doggie bed down below. George would have bitten her head off if disturbed in his beauty sleep. Anyways, Gudrun decided to go sleep somewhere else before it starts raining cats too.
5 am puppy wake-up alarm: a little tongue up my nostril. Yeah, that gets me going quickly.
So now I not only have five pups who think not getting up before 4:30am makes me a slacker, I’ve also got two kittens who agree.
He’s a wiggler. I swear, he does not sleep more than 10 minutes in one spot.
At one point he suddenly motored off at high speed, and I didn’t grab him fast enough so off the bed he went. Thankfully between the wall and the bed, for a slow slide down the wall rather than a headlong pitch off the front onto the floor or a sleeping dog.
Turned out he had to poop.
I’m rather grateful he went looking for another place than my armpit to do his business.
This morning my little guest dog Sessy slipped right between my legs into chickenlandia as I was exiting from the gate.
Chickenlandia is on a steep quarter acre of uncut bush with crisscrossing retaining fences. The fences have small pass-through for chickens and the Bunnster, who happily cohabits with the chickens. Unfortunately, the pass-through is just big enough for the little Wiener dog to slip through but not for me.
As it turned out, Sessy has zero interest in chickens. The Bunnster however had her undivided attention. For 45 relentless minutes she was after him.
I called, hollered and cursed, ran after her only to be on the wrong side of the fence. Every time.
I kept seeing the Bunnster burst out of hiding to find a new place, and Sessy hot on his heels.
I was in a house dress with Chinese rubber slippers, not the ideal clothes for dog chasing on steep hillsides. I didn’t dare to leave because I needed to be there if The Bunnster got caught.
Which he did in the end.
When the screaming started I was able to get there fast enough to grab him from the dog. Surprisingly he had no wounds, no blood anywhere. But he was in shock. And bunnies die from stress real easy.
I put him into his night cage where he remained very quiet till afternoon. This evening he was eating like normal. Lesson learned.
Sessy is no longer allowed out of the kennel when I go back and forth through the chicken gate.
(For those that don’t know: A potlicker is Belizean terminology for a mutt).
The difference between a Potlicker and a Purebred: A Potlicker is happy with a coconut as a chew toy. Purebreds eat Birkenstock.
This is what a Christmas present in Belize looks like in January.
Staked out by the side of the road, starved, abused.
Meet Bridget, my newest foster puppy. (Sigh)
Good bye Ruby! Today she went to her new home.
I saw her through her puppy-hood, made sure she got spayed and has had all her shots.
Now she can protect the yard of my gardener and be her aggressive little self.
I hate to say it, but with the possible exception of Emma, nobody here will miss her. We now return to being a peaceable pack.
Here’s a quick hack when you need all the dogs in the house immediately, like NOW:
Go into the bathroom and close the door.
When you reemerge, there they will be. Every single one of them in front of that bathroom door.
Ahh – The unintended consequences:
Nitwit neighbor blew his air horn at the dog across the street who was inside the house barking. Probably playing.
All of my dogs who had been soundly asleep on the porch woke up, and barked their heads off at the sound of the horn.
I let them.
Hope this does not turn into one of those cases where someone gets killed – in this case me and/or my dogs – and then everybody says that they knew the neighbor was off his rocker.
Back when my neighbor first introduced himself as “Dick” I politely asked if I could just call him Richard.
Turns out he was spot on with his introduction.
A couple of young men walk past our houses, go on a few yards, then turn around and walk back
My dogs are furiously barking at the fence. My neighbor is furiously honking his air horn.
I think I finally figured it out:
The little wanker does not have a dog so he pretends to be one himself.
As of this morning my collective dogs are up for grabs. Make me an offer, and I throw in a few Tree Possums. This way you too get to enjoy the night time entertainment lovingly provided by your newly acquired dogs.
Cause 12 dogs in the house is for Sissies, I added three more. A friend wrote: “Susanne, you have entered Saint level!” I had to correct her: “I think you misspelled *Insanity* level.”
It’s all the fault of Facebook:
I always clean up after eating. Today I just put the dirty plate on the counter and got carried away here. I hear slurping and look over to see Emma, front paws firmly on the counter, licking my plate. I better go do dishes.
Well this is awkward!
There’s a dead chicken in my unpleasant neighbor’s yard.
One of the little chickens squeezed out under the gate right at play time for my dogs. Needless to say she didn’t last a minute. Emma won the prize and took off happily flinging the dead chicken about. Next thing you know, she flung it over the fence.
And I can’t retrieve it.
I suppose it will have decomposed by the time he returns in January.
My current bed partner is Sam.
My bed is neatly divided into a dog half and a people half. But once we fall asleep we tend to infringe on each other’s space. My legs end up on the dog side, Sam’s head ends up on my pillow. A diagonal/sideways sort of arrangement.
This led to the need for a pillow talk last night. I made the teensy-weensy request that Sam PLEASE not lick his anal gland before plopping his head back onto the pillow mere inches from my face.
The mangy ones are starting to look a bit less like possums and a bit more like puppies.
OMG, another keeper: Sam. Foster failure # idon’tknow. How can you not love this face?
Nice sunny day. Great day to give the puppies -and myself- a bath.
We now should all be flea free.
Up for adoption: 60 pound Alpha female, black Terrier Mix. Spayed, current on all shots. Very protective of owner. Suspicious of strangers. Needs to be alone or with other large dogs. Needs 5 foot fence at a minimum. Owner with a chainmail suit a plus.
If the dogs’ barking does not do it, then I usually send a few rocks over the fence – that makes the flea-ridden cows put a few feet between them and my fence line.
Except this lone one.
Then I get to looking.
It’s huge big Bull.
And he is so not impressed by my dogs, or me or the rocks being thrown his way.
Back inside I go.
You know you have a puppy in the house when …
…the kitchen towel that was just here a minute ago is gone.
…the shoe you are not wearing have disappeared
…there’s a little puddle on the floor
From now on, ZERO Tolerance for Cane Toads.
Almost lost Gudrun. Came out from feeding the chickens when she was already foaming heavily at the mouth. Washed out her mouth and got two 500mg pills of Benadryl in her. Next thing she was going down.
Thank you Dr. T, for getting here so very fast!
She got a shot of Atropine to counteract the worsening paralysis of her airways and a muscle relaxer.
After a while she was able to get up, and I got her off the porch onto the doggie bed in the bedroom. But instead of using it to rest she produced the most awful barf all over it. I was expecting to find a toad in that, but there was none.
She’s now on the bathroom floor, not passed out but not awake.
On a positive note, there are three less cane toads in the yard.
Sometimes you wonder …
4:30 am. Dogs bark frantically to be let out. I do let them out. They dash off.
30 seconds later Emma my big bad Dane comes shooting back up on the porch with that “OMG I’m not dealing with THAT” look in her face.
Well, I’m not either. Apparently the rest sorted it out. All is quiet on the western front.
Up for adoption: Several dogs and a chicken.
The chicken started it!
Every half hour until 2:30 they staged an event that woke me:
The chicken fell off the roost and screamed like it was being eaten alive. This got me up and out there.
When I came back in George had taken Emma’s bed, Emma is unable to cope with this situation, and paced endlessly in and out the dog door, clack, clack, clack.
Eventually Rippa needed/wanted to go out. She has learned that she can pull on the metal security door causing a loud TWANG that will wake the dead. So I let her out.
Half hour later – big Bark Fest at the front fence.
Half hour later- TWANG – she wanted back in.
So I let her in.
Half hour later – Emma does a repeat performance of Rippa’s stunt.
Eventually we have a Barfer, a Toilet Paper Unroller and another Bark Fest at the front with some passerby dog this time staged by Leo.
I’m too old for this!
If the puppy is pretending to be peacefully asleep under the table – don’t fall for it.
She is secretly working on the demise of your electric cables.
Making rice for dinner after picking maggots out of the puppies’ wounds all day may not be the best idea I ever had.
If you think dogs don’t get pissed off at you, think again. Got home rather late today. My new Birkenstocks are no more.
Guess that shows me …
My place is not a picture of serenity at the best of times. But when the cows are on the pasture just behind my back fence I am ready for a vacation in a far, far-away place. This bunch Just. Won’t. Stop.
That mud-colored dog at the top of my stairs? That’s Emma, my fawn Great Dane. Emma has since gotten all cleaned up.
My couch cover, however, is another story…
If it keeps raining like this, I might have to install an outdoor dog shower large enough for Emma, and probably myself. Sponge bathes just don’t do it. The 5 gallon water bucket needs changing 4 times before her body is remotely demudded. Never mind the legs.
My Emma is Pig-Pen from the Peanuts cartoon.
My house is small enough to where nothing should happen without my noticing. But when I get involved in design, I lose track of time, forget to eat and drink, and am oblivious to what is going on around me. Hence I never noticed that Emma-Pig-Pen had dug a nice little nest in my bed on a rainy day.
Time to do a complete change of bedding.
Yeah, and I thought this was bad until Rippa came in covered in cow s#@t.
This year the fleas seem to consider Frontline Plus a minor inconvenience. For the expense I would like to see more bang for my buck.
Puppy 4, the one with the broken leg, just got upgraded to temporary member of household.
Easiest puppy sitting job ever. Just listen for the clomp, clomp, clomp of the cast.
Here’s a good reason to have your dogs sleep in bed with you:
Woke up to Sam choking to death on his own puke. I Heimliched him over the side of the bed, and thankfully that cleared his throat, and we were good again.
Unlike years ago, with my Gudrun where the Heimlich did not work. Only when she relaxed into death was I finally able to finger swipe the offending piece of food from her throat.
She made it but I think the oxygen was gone a bit too long from her brain.
She was one big goofy girl!
And here is my wisdom for the day:
Never wake a sleeping puppy.”
Learned this from Carol Darrow, she was referring to babies. But the same applies to either.
Every day, calls, messages:
“I found this dog / puppy / cat / kitten. It’s hurt / malnourished / abandoned. Can you help?”
And for the most part, the answer has to be NO.
There are not enough crazy people like us who take in a zillion dogs or cat to foster.
There is never enough money to pay for it all.
I’m so very, very sick and tired of saying NO.
Dogs are in lock-down for what could be a very long day.
Heard them before I saw them, a swarm of bees in the front yard. They settle in right where the dogs like to play.
Now we wait.
Not the first time. Every other year a swarm settles in for a day or so. Hope they move on soonest.
One year I hosed them down from a good distance. They stayed even longer since they had to dry up first. So I do nothing but wait.
Dog #7 is not turning out to be anybody’s idea of a good mate. My gang is peaceable. Ruby on the other hand is extremely aggressive. She is constantly in everybody’s face. George is the only one who stands up for himself. Poor Gracie has taken to hiding.
I need to find a strategy to fix that or Ruby may need a new home.
It is so peaceful around here without foster dog, Ruby! The dogs slept all day yesterday.
They were like the exhausted parents of Triplets who finally left for Grandma’s house.
Back to our calm, collected selves.
What’s the difference …
7 puppies, 10. 2 litters … 3 litters.
They all poop.
I don’t need no stinkin’ gym membership. I got puppies!
Squat, grab a 10 pound puppy under each arm, lift, slalom goose step over and around sleeping dogs, master the stairs, slowly put down puppy on the grass. – Repeat hourly starting at 4am.
The laundry, cleaning, feeding walk. 160 step round trip. – Repeat about 10 times daily.
Adopt a puppy or two, and you too could reap the health benefits of pet ownership.
Bonus, free puppy kisses!
I don’t mind waking up at 4am.
I do mind being woken up at 4am.
You hear that, puppies?! Big difference.
Now they are back to blissful sleep, and I sit here sucking coffee at o’darkhundred hours.
My dogs are soo in the dog house!
Yesterday I notice a chicken that had worked its way up a climbing vine, and was eyeballing the greater yard. I thought I might need to fix that.
Well I shoulda!!!
While the dogs and I were inside on a rainy afternoon a half dozen chickens decided to go on a walk-about.
After the rain, the dogs and I came around the corner, chickens started running, dogs started running, I started running. I managed to save all but one chicken. The biggest one – of course – the slowest one, bit the dust.
Then I had to chase down Emma who was tossing around her prized new toy.
Good thing the month is almost over. Apparently, it’s *What- Does- It- Take- To- Make- Susanne- Run- Screaming- Into- The- Night* Month.
Leo, my Shepherd, has what seems to be a beef worm firmly in his ear. He screams when you touch it and won’t let me near it. So vet tomorrow.
This morning I wrestle Leo in to submission. Yes, beef worm still in his ear. Between downpours, I wrestle him into the car. At the vet, I wrestle a muzzle on. Then we wrestle him into submission again.
No beef worm!
I’m gonna take a shower and start drinking early.
So today Maybelline with the to-die-for eyebrows and her 6 babies took up residence in the family bungalow suite at Dog Care Hotel.
That poor little family has not been here two hours when we get the storm from hell. Wind and rain from all directions.
There goes my 5 Star rating.
Woke up at 4:30 cause I hear Mabelline – my last foster dog – out there crying in her kennel. I get myself out there and discover every ant known to man in her dog house, and kennel.
So I got her into an empty kennel where she’s ok for now.
Sprayed and powdered the place down and didn’t even make a dent into all those ants – big ones, little ones, fire ants, all in there and around there.
So once it gets light, I see what is going on and kill what I can. Then of course I’ve got to wash all that poison down before putting the poor dog back.
So there will go the better part of my morning.
On the bright side, I should be done by the time I go to lunch.
It’s going to take significant bribage with food to move above the Dump status for Dog Care Hotel today.
I’m getting accusing looks.
New puppy Alice is one of THOSE.
Come bed-time, she sat in her kennel and howled for two hours straight.
Of course I finally gave up, wrapped her in a blanket and took her to bed with me.
Still can’t claim a good night’s sleep what with waking up to a puppy sucking my earlobe.
7 years! George was neutered 7 years ago.
And Luz was spayed 2 years ago, yet she goes into heat twice a year.
And then she and George get tied at least once daily.
But since there will be no puppies, I suppose it’s all good fun.
I have come across criticism about the lack of social skills in the animal rescue community.
You know what? I don’t give a rat’s a$$ how you feel about me.
It’s not about you.
And it’s not about me.
My job is to help heal where I can, and to absorb the pain and misery of those I can’t help heal- as I sit with them when they pass on.
And you are correct. For the most part I don’t like people, and the dislike grows daily.
It is thoughtless people who cause all this misery.
What goes on in a dogs’ head?!
I put down sleeping blankets at night. They are not much for softness, but the dogs consider sleeping on a one a prize.
This morning everybody went out to do their business when suddenly Olivia comes racing back in a million miles an hour, pisses on a blanket, and takes off back outside like shot.
I swear I saw her grinning.
I do hope this is not something she plans to do again!
I understand that dogs establish their dominance by controlling the space and movement of lower ranking pack members.
What that translates to at my house is a Shepherd and a Great Dane forever laying across door ways, the porch or the steps.
And I get my exercise high stepping over them.
Just watched a short video of a dog whose owner was in a car accident. EMS folks were attending to the man, and by-standers were holding the dog while the pros did their job. The dog didn’t understand what was going on and was determined to get to his person, now on a stretcher.
He broke away, ran to his owner and tried to shield him from the people working on him by laying on his torso.
Just a little run-of-the-mill Potlicker looking dog. Like there are thousands in Belize that nobody wants. I have an identical one up for adoption right now.
But they love you the same as a fancy purebred.
So now that everybody is done with the firecrackers, go check if your dog ran away in a panic.
Cause I got an extra one in my yard.
Young female short hair black and gray. Long leash. She jumped in over the fence.
Tried to put her out onto the street but she jumped right back in.
Let’s just say I’m not holding my breath on this one.
Born this morning to a sicklyish mom who has no milk, and already killed the sibling.
Got the body temp up and it is nursing.
Cleaning and sex check come later, not the most important things right now.
Happy to report little new-born Martin is all systems go!
Drank 1.5 cc every other hour through the night and kindly let me sleep the last 4 hours.
Today he will have to go on his first road trip. Can’t leave him home till he can control his temperature and feeds less often.
So you will see me with my puppy carrier the next two weeks.
Good night little Martin, my foster puppy of 12 days.
You fought hard, I fought hard. But Death won this time.
Death won a lot this month around here. But heads-up, you ba%$#rd, your lucky streak at my place it over! Get your innocent lives somewhere else!
Thank you, Josh for helping me bury Helga.
Just this morning I posted a picture of her nursing her puppies a year ago, and this evening she is dead.
She had a good year here with us and seemed happy to the end.
I hoped she had longer.
Up for adoption: 7 dogs of varying sizes.
Will sleep while a mouse gnaws a hole into their dog food bag right next them!!!
When I so much as touch my hair brush – meaning I’m getting spiffed up to go out in public – they are all front and center in my bathroom within seconds.
But a mouse chewing away on their food bag…nada!
Some adoptions are harder on me than others.
This one near done me in. I love Mona.
But because of that I have to let her go to a better home than I can provide.
Mona and Lynn hit it off from the start. And Mona will get so much more attention.
It is a good adoption.
My Mona is back.
Too much of a hunter for the new home.
I’ve got to say, I am so happy to have her back!
Grateful for SMALL puppies – When you here that pftpft-splat sound behind you in the room.
Only took 3 paper towels to clean up.
Had it been Emma I would be calling the backhoe now.
The little one bites down on the mop head and won’t let go.
She thinks it’s fun.
So now I have a new mop extender.
I can clean a larger area with one sweep.