Where have I been?

Dealing with this 

Between T-giving and C-mas we found a pretty little girl who was shot and left for dead in northern MN (that's the tundra for those of you not from here.) The group I work with rallied around her and managed to raise $15,000 for her medical care. The major university in town used experimental surgery to remove portions of her stomach and she is expected to live a hearty fully life. Sweet huh? Because we were picked up on 4 local stations and CNN, it has been CrAzY here for the volunteers.

But since we saved a life, I'm imaging I'll be forgiven right?

Take a look at Miss Orphan Annie, how cute is she?

There is a local car dealership that is donating all of their space for a HUGE party for everyone to meet her, people  have been sewing her coats to keep her warm in the sub-zero temps since most of her fur was shaved off, donations have come from as far as TX and NY. It's been a crazy response, but makes me feel so good that for all the crappy people I meet in this line of work that there are some great ones out there. 

I like me some challenges....

...apparently. 

First off I want to say belated Happy New Year and all that jazz. Hope the life and the furrys in your lives are treating you well, if not better. 

A new guy came to town right before the New Year and let me tell you, this guy puts the Great Jackdini to shame. I have a feeling this guy is going to stretch my dog resources to the max. But hey, if I wanted easy I'd have kids right? Kidding. (I'm gonna get slaughtered by bi-ped moms just for saying that.) 

Hawk is 2 years old (I think) yellow lab/Coonhound mix. He was abused as a puppy and then ran away or was dumped and ran wild with a pack of 5 stray dogs in the country for 6-8 months. He was live-trapped and set for euthanasia when he was rescued by his first foster mom in July. Poor guy knows NOTHING about humans. He was with first mom for about 4 months or so and still doesn't trust most humans. He was moved to us in hopes that transferring his bond to another human would at least start to expand his world a bit. 

He spent his first 4 days with us hiding in his kennel or behind the couch, which is a pretty tight fit for a 65 pound lab. He is slowly starting to come out of his shell and will now let us pet him and will sit with us on the couch, chair, or bed. But never on the floor. The floor is like hot lava to him, he can't handle being at a level below us. Doorways are a novelty, as are stairs and the fenced in yard. He can't handle the openness, it makes him so nervous he freezes into a dogsicle. You can just forget about putting him on a leash. Believe it or not this is actually leaps and bounds above where he was four months ago. 

So here we go again, embarking on a challenge. But I can't help it, it's a compulsion. Pics and funny holiday stories to follow.

Simple math

1 border collie/lab 

+

6 GIANT frosted cinnamon rolls

= 

2 moved endtables, 1 rearranged couch, and insanity

Will try to post pictures of the carnage later....

Broke the lucky streak

We've gone three months without a veterinary emergency. Broke that record this week. Dang. We were shooting for 6 months this time, fell short by half. 

DH got home and made the call. You know the one. 

"Honey? I think Cody ate something."

Crap. "Like what?"

"Well......"

Double crap. Probably the fridge this time. "Oh just tell me."

"8 english muffins plus the packaging. Plastic, cardboard and all."

I'm ashamed to write what went on in my head after that statement. 

"That's not too bad. I'll call the vet anyway."

That's right. In my house, 8 english muffins plus the packaging qualifies as not bad. 

Kids should be a breeze.

Karina Karina

Our second foster dog. 

Is she not the most gorgeous creature you have ever seen?

The story of the atomic poo....

Great title huh? 

Story is even better. 

So remember the "On the count of three, fling the poo" story?

A car was following us the other night again. DH starts joking around and says get ready to fling the poo. He jokingly pulls his arm backwards rather slowly and all of a sudden Cody's poo flies out of the bottom of the bag and hits the front grill of the car. 

What does DH do? 

He runs with Cowgirl down the nearest alley, leaving me and Cody to defend ourselves against the angry driver. 

Awesome.

Turns out Cody's poo (now lovingly referred to as Atomic Poo) ate through the plastic. 

How's that for a hidden talent? My dog is so smart.

Snow, Driveways, Puppies and other lovely things....

Highlights from my month in a deep dark hole.....

1. It snowed today. 2 inches. Which is nothing compared to the 36 inches that South Dakota got. Yeah that's right it's November 7th. Love MN. 

2. Cody discovered where we keep all of the high value items (i.e. chocolate, other bad for him things) and learned how to open the child safety lock and drawer and ate them. He survived. Little turd.

3. One of my rescue groups busted a puppy mill and we took in a 2nd foster dog for a grand total of 3 dogs. Nevermind that this little sweetheart had never seen doors, stairs or anything else of a similar nature. 

4. Above dog was pregnant. Oh boy.

5. Pregnant dog now a false alarm. Rollercoaster anyone?

6. Cowgirl/Sweets suddenly started peeing EVERYWHERE. Turns out she has a raging bladder infection. Cleared that up much to my carpet's relief. 

7. Came home from work one day to find my driveway missing. Yup you heard it. It was MISSING! Called the city. Turns out that there was a problem with the utilities and they had to fix it and by doing so took out my driveway. No big deal ma'am. Oh you're right sir, it's just my DRIVEWAY! 

8. Came home a week later and I had a new driveway. Nice in the end, but would a phone call have hurt? I don't think so.

Last but not least, Cowgirl is getting adopted this Saturday! Yipee! I'll do a photo montage later. Because I'm cool (or cheesy pick your adjective) that way. 

The good thing about falling into a black hole for a month? I now have a month of wicked stories to share with you. Stay tuned.

What happens when a city girl marries a country boy...

Cowgirl killed a rabbit and decapitated it the other night. Which is way beyond my animal tolerance level. There was blood and little rabbit organs in the backyard. Naturally Cody wanted a piece of that action. After wrangling the two killing machines I did what any city raised woman would do, I yelled for DH. He comes running out in a panic and looks at me in disbelief when I frantically tell him he needs to get rid of the dead eviscerated rabbit. After realizing that I was serious he went to the garage, got a shovel and a bag and comes back ready to oblige me in my request. 

Right before he picks it up he looks at me and goes, "you know at home, this would be considered a quality dinner."

I just gave him a blank stare. 

Yup. Totally married a country bumpkin. 

I'm back from the black hole that is my life

My goal of being a multiple times a week blogger officially went bust. Life was such a black hole this last week that it just didn't happen. Working OT at work and working double time at the second job, plus mulitple vet visits and mischief courtesy of my rugrats = blogging hiatus. Oh well, I'm back at that's all that matters....right? 

The kids are still doing good. We had a double cancer scare this week which has sped up my aging process. At this rate I'll be dead at 30. Seriously. First Cody developed a fist sized lump on his chest (scary) and he went in to get that looked at. We decided to stick a needle in it (ouch) although he was a really good boy. Negative. Turns out that he was injured when he was in that dog fight last month and it's scar tissue. Dodged a bullet there. 

Then Cowgirl starts developing seizures and we figured epilepsy.  Vet says the dreaded words "brain cancer." DH and I start talking about whether or not we want to be her hospice parents or if we should put her in the rescue hospice program. Agony, worry abounds. Turns out she they're muscle tremors brought on by a childhood bought with distemper. So basically she just has the shakes like Muhammed Ali. That I can live with. 

So now we're back to finding a home and moving forward. Crossing our paws for no more drama. 

Couldn't have said it better myself....

Got an email from my step-mom and had to post this. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Dear Dogs - 

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest. 

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

 I cannot buy anythign bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm. 

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, and try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years -- canine or feline attendance is not required. 

The proper order is to kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:

To all non-pet owners who visit and like to complain about our pets:

1. They live here. You don't.

2. If you don't want hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it 'fur"niture.

3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people

4. To you they are an animal. To me, they are adopted sons/daughters who are short, hairy, and walk on all fours and don't speak clearly.