The Bad, who was really The Felon, now an ex-con

The Man got Patton. On Tuesday, actually - the day he escaped. While I was searching the neighborhood for two days, he was waiting in a cage at the county pound. And they didn't call me because, well, they're idiots, and they never bothered to scan him and find his microchip, and the phone number wore off of his tag. I finally thought today to call them, and ask, just to make sure he hadn't been taken there, and they knew immediately which dog I meant.

And so Three and I had a big adventure to spring him from the joint - big adventure because we had to get proof of shots from Patton's vet (he lost his rabies tag a couple of collars back - he goes through collars quickly), and we showed up with our printout and a checkbook, but they wanted cash, exact change, $25 - which means the ATM is no good, since it only spits out $20 bills. The woman didn't bother to tell me this earlier on the phone. So the boy and I raced back into town to find a bank, go inside, wait in line very impatiently while the slowest people ever were assisted in front of us, cash a check, and scoot back out to the boonies to get Patton before the place closed. Because I couldn't bear to leave him there another night. That place was so incredibly depressing, with all of the dogs barking and calling to us, knowing that many of them - most of them - don't have long to live.

We called in backup (the grandmother) to pick up Big Girl from her class, since this debacle took far more time than anticipated, and we finally got our boy back. In retrospect, I cannot believe the confluence of stupidity that kept him there two days while we ignorantly searched our neighborhood. Some bozo in a nearby neighborhood - not ours, but close - called animal control about him, and told them that he belonged to some new neighbor in that neighborhood, so the dog catcher left a note on the door of that house, and then since they assumed that they had notified the owner, they never bothered to scan Patton for a microchip. Plus our new phone number had worn off of Patton's collar tag, leaving only our old out-of-state number, which was, of course, disconnected. They didn't try to contact anyone with the name listed on his tag, since we have a fairly common last name, I suppose - I didn't press the issue at the time, since I was so relieved to get my baby back. But I feel an irate letter, perhaps even a series of letters, developing.

And I hope I never have to see that place again. We have a great humane society here that adopts out dogs. They get some dogs from animal control, but the latter is basically a kill-shelter, a tiny place crammed full of dogs waiting to die. I don't want to think about what might have happened had my sweet boy been there another day or two. The pound did metaphorical lip service to animal adoption - a couple of posters and a sign listing contact information for the humane society - but I don't think many dogs make it out of there. I wanted to grab all I could and shove them in my van and speed away.

I couldn't - I don't have the space, the money, the time, or the energy to take care of that many dogs the way they deserve - but there were so many sweet faces. So many cute, wagging tails. I hate the pound. I hate what happens there, I hate that there are unwanted dogs, unplanned litters, unfit owners who make it "necessary" to have the pound. I started crying and seething with frustration and outrage as soon as I saw the place (that van was full of rage as I raced to the bank and back to get exact change, in cash, no checks, credit cards, or debit cards). Both of our male dogs are eunuchs, and Katy will be spayed next month, as soon as she's healthy enough for the surgery and finished with her second round of shots. I look around me in this community and often see people doing stupid things - taking foolish risks, engaging in absurd behavior, getting themselves into ridiculous situations - but those whose actions, or inactions, lead to the suffering and deaths of animals seem willfully ignorant, deliberate in their decision not to spay or neuter a cat or dog when taking that action, at relatively little cost, would improve the health of the individual animal and prevent the births of future generations that may not be wanted or supported properly. Ugh.

Nighttime now, and all three puppies are sleeping, at home, where they belong.

The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly

The Good:
Katy went to the vet. She doesn't have heartworms. Her hair loss is likely due to undernourishment and a flea allergy (she had fleas when she showed up but I gave her a bath, vet treated her, and they seem to be gone). She's actually older than we thought, probably close to a year, and she won't likely get taller. She will need to fill out, but it seems that she's a golden retriever mix rather than a golden retriever (only) puppy - though she looks a lot like a purebred golden puppy. She was a very good girl in the car, and after her appointment I took her to visit her grandmother (my mom). She got the usual grandchild treatment - lots of affection, snacks, doting. My mom's very good with kids and animals and they almost all love her immediately. Anyway, my efforts to take a good picture of her remain frustrating, because she won't sit still, won't stop running around me trying to lick and kiss on me, but I'm not giving up!

The Bad:
Patton. He jumped the fence two days ago and hasn't returned. I've walked. I've called. I've whistled. I've searched, driving slowly around the neighborhood (probably looking somewhat sketchy while doing so, but I guess a minivan isn't quite as ominous as a white panel van with tinted windows). He's done this before, and we actually have the stuff to fix up the fence to (hopefully) stop him, but we were waiting for the rains and flooding to stop. And he beat us to the punch.

The Ugly:
The fungus among us. Some really ugly yellow/brown/black mushrooms sprouted in the front yard from all of the rain. Thank goodness we live on a hill, so no flooding in our yard, although other yards in our neighborhood did have some minor flooding, and roads elsewhere in the county were completely covered and closed earlier in the week. I've noticed lots of yards with mushrooms, thanks to the rain, and most of them are cute white ones, or brown ones, but the ones in my yard are just ugly. Ewww. I used a shovel to remove most of them yesterday, but missed a few - and those will go soon.

Yes, she's our problem now!

She's energetic and bouncy and never stops moving like a little furry living run-on sentence. The kids have named her Katy, and I'll be taking her to the vet in the morning, to figure out what she *should* weigh. I know she's extremely thin right now, and I'm not sure if the lack of food alone has caused her to lose a lot of fur, or if there's another cause that will need treatment. When I say that she's a rescue, I mean we literally rescued the poor girl when she wandered through our neighborhood, starving and muddy in the midst of days of rain that caused flooding throughout the area. Katy latched onto us as soon as I called to her, and when I offered her a paper plate full of dog kibble, she made up her mind to stay.

She is so extremely happy, and seems to have meshed well with Quinn,* and the glass storm door to the back deck is covered with muddy little girl dog paw prints. The kids are thoroughly enamored, although my Big Girl remains a little skittish about dogs jumping up on her (not that I blame my girl - she's a slim young lady, and our other two dogs could and have knocked her down in their exuberance). Tomorrow, the vet, which will hopefully provide a few answers such as her approximate age (somewhere between itty-bitty-fluff-ball-puppy and full-grown size, but I'm not sure of anything more specific) and her likely adult size.

*Patton developed a fence-jumping habit a couple of weeks back, and for a while we were keeping him on a very long chain when we weren't outside with him, but I took pity on him during the rain storms and unhooked his lead. And as soon as it stopped raining, the punk jumped over the fence again - sometime yesterday morning - and disappeared. He may be mad at us about the chain. I've walked around the neighborhood calling and searching, and we drove around several times this afternoon calling his name, but so far we haven't seen him. But while he was here, he seemed very interested in Katy, and they seemed to get along well. Honestly I think he was a bit rude to run off, and right after I brought him a new friend who has much more energy to play with him than that large aging fluff-ball Quinn (so fond of his siestas). Well, actually, honestly I'm worried that he hasn't come back. I hope he's okay and really hope he shows up again soon. And we have supplies to make fence-climbing less appealing and less feasible for him, once he's back - since he has been known to climb back in, I don't want to put them up just yet.

We may have a problem.

Hubs and I are somewhat notorious within our circle of family and friends for being suckers for a cute animal. Mostly just dogs for Hubs, although a few years ago he was easy game for a free kitten. That's how we ended up with two cats, which didn't deal well with the Big Girl's arrival. The boys live with my parents now and find the environment much more to their liking - except when the grandkids visit.

So we have serious issues saying no to cute animals needing homes. I've often thought that I would get a big farm and have oodles of dogs with my winnings if I won the lottery. That, of course, would require that I actually play the lottery, but I digress.

We're fond of giving out advice that we can't follow so well ourselves: never to PetSmart on a Saturday. You might come home with an extra dog instead of just some dog biscuits and a grooming brush. That's how we acquired sweet Hank, who ultimately revealed that he had some serious issues with men - due to mistreatment earlier in life - and he had to find a new home.

So Big Girl came home early from school today due to the heavy rain and flooding in our area. Shortly after she came inside, she spotted a dog in the yard across the road, and she thought it looked like our yellow lab. I went out to investigate, since our lab has, in the last couple of weeks, developed a bad habit of jumping the fence and running wild through the neighborhood. I didn't think it looked like our lab, but I called to it anyway, thinking that I could check the tag and see where it should be.

So a leggy adolescent who is mostly, if not entirely, golden retriever bounded over to me. He (I think male) was only wearing a flea collar, and he looks malnourished. Not just in a "I'm skinny because I'm growing up so fast and my legs have gotten ahead of the rest" way, but seriously thin. So (cue sucker for a cute face) I gave the little guy some kibble, and he settled down on our front mat after wolfing down the food.

I was trying to restrain my emotions. I hadn't seen the dog around our neighborhood before, so I called Hubs to run the situation by him:

Me: "There's a golden retriever puppy on our front porch. He's really skinny."
Hubs: "You're kidding."
Me: "No, really. He's skinny and leggy and doesn't have a tag, just a flea collar. And fleas."
Hubs: "Put him in the back yard. Sounds like we have a third dog."
Me: "Really?"
Hubs: "Yeah, our dogs get flea treatments. They'll be fine. Give it some food and water."
Me: "I already fed it."
Hubs: "Good."
Me: "You don't think I should call-"
Hubs: "No. You know what they do to dogs."

I kid you not. The man went from "stray dog" to "we have a new dog" right away. Not even a pause. And he thinks I'm a sentimental fool for dogs, with my Cute Overload page-a-day calendar and photos of our current and late pets around the house? So we have a temporary third dog. I'm not letting myself think that he's here for the long term. I've made that mistake before, many times, when we've taken in animals that have sought out our home as a refuge when they couldn't find their own homes.

What do our dogs think of this visitor? The lab - who was inside the fence where he should have been - thinks this new kid is neat. Our sweet old golden gave me a woeful look. Very similar to the one he gave me when we brought home a peppy young lab to interrupt his sedentary senior lifestyle, which ironically looked a lot like the look our sweet old Brittany (now in doggie heaven) gave us many, many years ago when we had the nerve to bring a tiny golden upstart into his domain.

Did I mention that this little visitor is mighty wiggly? After half a dozen attempts, I gave up trying to get a picture of his actual face.

Brrrrr.... it's cold!

Poor doggies. Their water dish keeps freezing over, and every few hours I go outside, dump out the ice block, and fill it up again. It's very cold outside. No fights to get the kids to wear gloves and keep their hoods up today!

I won! I won!

I'm so excited - I won a giveaway! Dr. Mommy Says offered a winner's choice of treat from Paw Luxury, and I can't wait for the lads to receive their treats! They will be very, very excited. Well, they get excited every time they see me, but I know they will be even more wagtastically pleased to see me coming with treats. I'll let you know what they think of their Polka Dog Peanut Butter Medley treats!

Shiba Inu Puppy Cam

Hubs made the foolish mistake of sharing this fantastic puppy cam with me last night. I just love watching these adorable dogs!

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Rosemary Wells' McDuff books

Big Girl and I went to the bookstore at the local dirt mall on Friday, and we picked up some new books for her and her brother to enjoy. Both of them are big fans of Rosemary Wells' McDuff series, which depicts the adventures of a cute white West Highland terrier named McDuff and his owners, Lucy and Fred. The illustrations are fun and well-executed, and the stories are accessible and cute. Both kids really love the McDuff character, and each story has a light-hearted message that we can discuss together. Big Girl likes to examine all of the details in Susan Jeffers' illustrations and discuss them, while Two prefers to focus on the "doggie" and read the stories again and again.

This dog

This dog escaped at some point this afternoon or evening - not sure exactly when - and ran feral about the neighborhood. Truly feral: he discarded his collar during the escape. When I went out late tonight, about forty-five minutes ago, to feed him and his punk companion, I noticed he was missing. I called, whistled, yelled his name - no dog. So I prowled around the house with a flashlight for a few minutes, and then got in my van. And drove slowly around the neighborhood with the windows down, whistling loudly like a fool. If any of the neighbors saw me (most seemed to be asleep, as their houses were dark), they probably thought I was creepy, given how slowly I was driving, and/or insane, given my persistent whistling.

I made two huge loops through the neighborhood and I was just getting ready to pull into the driveway when a big yellow goofball ran up next to the van, grinning and panting. I threw the van into park, hopped out, and for once he came nicely when I beckoned him. I put his collar back on and escorted him back to the back yard. Prodigal pup that he is, he enjoyed a big bowl of kibble and lapped up some fresh water with his dinner. Tomorrow I'll try to figure out how he managed this great escape...

Couscous - even better this time...

I made my couscous dish again for today's family dinner/birthday extravaganza, and this time I made a few modifications. I didn't cook the sweet onion first, just chopped it. I used corn, petite diced tomatoes, fresh cilantro, and half of the aforementioned onion, plus I used fresh juice squeezed from two limes. I added all of that to two cups of couscous (precooked measurement), and I served it cold, although I think warm would be delicious as well. And they liked it! I was curious to see what the extended fam said about it, and they all responded well (except my dad, who didn't eat me, but he's not exactly food-adventurous) and asked me how I made it. It may have helped that my mom, aunt, and uncle had tried the couscous at the baseball game on Friday (yes, they sat in swanky seats with ritzy food at the Braves game, courtesy of my dad's work connection - did I mention that we could see them on teevee throughout the game?).

Big Girl's cake turned out well, although the caramel icing was a bit thicker than I had intended. I tried a new recipe using sweetened condensed milk, since I couldn't find that can of evaporated milk that I know I bought a couple of weeks ago. It was very sweet, and kind of like candy - a bit chewy, even. I used my rose Bundt pan but the lovely rose shape was largely obscured due to the thickness of the caramel icing. When I make cupcakes for Big Girl's party, I'll aim for a slightly thinner icing, plus I'll serve the cupcakes upside down, since I'll be using fancy bakeware for those, too, and they'll look like rosebuds on the bottom. It'll go with the whole flower theme.

Mind like a steel trap: she's been talking about planting flowers at her party, even though I only mentioned that once when I ran the idea of a flower party by her. My mom already has some pots, and I'll pick up some plants - probably annuals in six-packs since those will be easy for the girls to manipulate - later this week. I don't want to run the risk of buying a flat of flowers only to have them die before next weekend.

In other news, a friendly random black lab, roaming loose in the 'hood, stole Hubs' brown leather dress shoes off the front porch as we were leaving for church this morning. An amusing scene in which I chased the dog, and said dog ran and encouraged the fun game, ensued. We didn't make it to church on time, but the shoes are now safe and intact. The dog chewed into a bag of potting soil (?) while we were gone, and busted open a jug of windshield washer fluid. Hubs shooed him away around lunch, and he apparently went down the street a couple of houses to see if our neighbors wanted to play, and stuck around their house all afternoon. He had a collar but no tags. We're hoping he just escaped from his yard while his people are out of town for the weekend - I hope he wasn't dumped out because his owners got tired of him, but unfortunately that happens all too often. We would have invited him to stay, but we have more than enough canine companionship at present, in the form of two ravenous blond bums. Hubs would be furious, so I squelched the voice in the back of my mind that thought he was a very sweet puppy who needed someone to love him. But I'm still a bit worried and will keep an eye out for him tomorrow.

Naked dog, in the flesh

Naked Dog

On Friday night, aliens descended on our back yard and gave our golden retriever a really bad summer buzz cut. That's my story. Nope, wasn't me spending three hours wrestling with said dog, only to end up with a funky fuzzy chubby puppy.

He looks really silly. I felt kind of bad when a cool front came through late on Sunday, since he's without his fur suit now, but he didn't seem too bothered. And he will be happy to be hairless when the true Georgia heat kicks in. Plus this should cut down on the hot spots, or at least make it easier to treat them if he does get them thus summer. Poor guy - he has a lot of health problems, and hot spots were the first to appear but not the worst. This only reaffirms my judgment that his breeder didn't really know what she was doing and hadn't taken sufficient steps to clear the health history of his parents and grandparents on both sides.

Big Girl and Two were fascinated by the process and the results. Big Girl laughed and said that our golden retriever was getting his hair cut so he would look more like the lab. She's a bit obsessed with the idea of haircuts (which scares me) and with observing who has short hair and who has long hair, and has had this obsession for several months since I cut and donated my long hair. She sees the dog haircut as something similar - the dog had long hair, and her mommy cut it, just like her mommy had long hair and her grandmother cut it.

Hearing my own words...

I was in the kitchen this morning loading the dishwasher when I heard Big Girl talking. I paused to listen, and I heard my own often-repeated words spoken in Big Girl-ese: "No! Be nice to your brother. Be careful when you play with him. Don't hurt him. That's bad." She was standing at the back door lecturing Patton, our lab, about playing nicely with Quinn, our golden retriever. Patton was really excited to see the kids at the door, and he was bouncing around and crashing in to Quinn, as he frequently does in his bouts of glee. That Big Girl is astute. ;)

Big Mistake

I just read Ashley's post about rebound dogs, and for some stupid reason I went to a couple of Brittany rescue websites and looked at the dogs who need homes. I really want another Brittany. Our dog Rusty, who was our first child and who died last summer, was a fabulous Brit, and if the punk dog hadn't appeared on the scene when he did, I probably would have persuaded Hubs to adopt another Brit. I love the punk, but he has a complete different personality. We got Rusty a few months after we got married, and he was with us for seven years. He was a wild man with so much energy, and then after a long time he started to get stiff and slower and he was an absolute sweetheart who just wanted a little peace and quiet and love in his later years. He was great with the kids - so tolerant, in the same way that he was gentle and tolerant, but not exactly thrilled, with the seizure dog when s.d. was a hyper puppy. I could go on singing Rusty's praises forever. I miss him so much.

So I looked at all of these cute Brits, and it's probably a good thing that most of the ones I saw were too far away, really young, not recommended for homes with young children. Because that made it a little easier not to fall in love with any of them. Rationally, I know we don't need a third dog now. We had three dogs at one point, and it was too much. Two of the dogs were high maintenance (seizure dog being one), and it just wasn't working with trying to get two dogs trained to behave nicely. For now I need to focus on teaching punk dog to be a good canine citizen. He's getting better, but he still needs a lot of work.