Doberkids

Happy Birthday, Regis!

Today was Regis O’Verten’s birthday. That’s right. He’s a Valentine’s day baby.

Birthday boy, Regis

First, Regis made his wish over his birthday hamburger.

Make a wish!

Then he finished what he started.

Yum yum yum…

Then came the sky show for him.

Wow!

Another rocket followed the first. Regis is very popular!

Ooooo…ahhh…

This was the sky from this weekend, but Regis liked it so much, he wanted me to show it to everyone. It’s his birthday gift to you.

Beautiful sky.

While I made dinner tonight, Raven and Luigi played the Valentine’s Kissy Ball Game.

Valentine’s Day Buddies, Raven & Luigi

Now we are all about to say adieu to another Valentine’s Day and Regis’ umpteenth birthday.

Helen
(click to e-mail me)

Bouchard, who knew you were left behind?

As I was getting ready to leave for work this morning, I heard on the Martha Stewart channel 112 on Sirius radio that Tracie Hotchner will be speaking about a travesty in the mortgage crisis.  Did you know that when people are losing their homes, many of them leave their dogs/cats behind in the abandonned structures?  They end up starving or trying to eat the wood paneling and whatever else they can pull from the walls or floors of the houses they are trapped in.  Tracie mentioned in her 15-minute segment on The Morning Show that this is prevalent in Chicago, but is happening all over the country in record numbers.  You can listen to her show tonight at 8 pm for the entire story.

Bouchard was one of those left-behind and forgotten dogs.  His people moved out and left him in the backyard of his home in 2003.  He barked and barked and barked, which is how the Orange county Animal Services got involved and found him.  

Bouchard had a baseball-sized bruise on his side, which I assume came from the dark side of human beings who were bothered by him.  His whole body was abused in one form or the other.  His bottom front teeth are nothing but nubs due to his trying to chew out of his containment.  Was it a chain?  Was it chainlink fence?  I don’t know, but his teeth do. 

He was horrified to have anyone even think of touching his paws.  He’d hide them by tucking them underneath his body, and when it thundered, he’d curl up in a corner to hide.

Bouchard was very scared of thunder storms

My friend and co-rescuer who pulled Bouchard from the shelter and brought him down to meet me halfway from Orange to Broward county asked the shelter if they were sure THIS was the dog because he was so emaciated.  The shelter actually neutered this boy in his condition.

This is what he looked like when I got him from the shelter in Orange county, Florida.  He still had tape fragments from his ear crop sticking ot his ears.  Thank God they got to him when they did.  He wasn’t in any shape to last much longer.

Bouchard from the side in November 2003

He was so thin, this 18-inch collar fit him like a necklace.

 Bouchard’s thin neck in November 2003

Bouchard couldn’t hold water.  As fast as he drank it, the water came right through.  I kept him in an ex-pen with covers on the floor and everyday I came home from lunch, I’d change his covers. 

Bouchard 11/24/03 

We got to a point where he could hold it till we ran to the back door, but he couldn’t make it all the way, though he tried, the movement made him let loose. 

Sooner or later, there came a day when he did hold it, and did make it out that back door.  Also, finding the right antibiotic to put him on helped.  His body was adjusting, but due to the fact that this happened during his growth stage, his back legs are formed sort of like a duck’s where they stick out to the sides and he waddles around the back yard.  He’s a fast waddler, but it is a noticeably unique gait.  At obedience practice, I always get asked, “What’s wrong with his legs?”

Bouchie’s back duckie legs Bouchard and Hannah

Well, Bouchard is a happy boy now.  I had placed him twice, and he came back twice.  He’s got some piss and vinegar in him, and he’s a little reactive due to his former circumstance, so he’s got issues that only his Dobermom can understand.  How cruel it was to abandon this boy.  Though, through all the neglect, he came out of it with a light in his heart.  

I think of all the other dogs out there trapped in abandonned homes, and wonder if they will be so lucky.  So please, keep your eyes and ears opened.  Maybe you will be the one to save a pet trapped in an abandonned home in your neighborhood. 

Helen
(click to e-mail)

Follow-up on the Missing Waffle Cone and Thensome

Well, the evidence has been dropped and frankly, the cup segments weren’t there. So I had to use self-hypnosis on-the-fly to re-visit the scene, and what was apparent that night was the two prime suspects were busy. Pippin was hunting the Papaya Tree Rat…

Innocent Pippin

and Raven was busy running around and shoving toys at me…

Innocent Raven

They were both occupied. Actually, all were occupied outside with me except for the non-Raven in this picture.

Raven and Luigi

That is part one of the evidence.

Part two was the plastic spoon that came along with the waffle cone. It had been splintered all over the pavers, and there was several pieces of spoon in the doo-dee in the place where Raven and Luigi deposit their daily or twice-daily gifts. I give Raven a lot of credit for mischief, but the credit for being the brains behind the Waffle Cone caper goes to Luigi.

Luigi - the guy who did it!

Congrats, big guy, for being labeled. We all go through it.

Next, we find these two beautiful doves upon the utility lines. I innocently started taking pictures of them…this is one.

The Love Doves

Then, with the snap of the next picture…we have a pre-Valentine day love fest.

X-Rated

X-rated stuff!

Mercury is still in retrograde. I just went into the kitchen and turned on the light. Nothing. No light. Oh, the light’s up there still on the ceiling. But it’s not going on. All four of those fluorescents are deadsville. <sigh> Maybe tomorrow? My dinner was not going to ring – rice cooker – so after an hour, I decided to eat whatever’s in there. An hour? You think rice would be cooked by then? Seems so to me.

Back to the weekend. Look at what was outside our window.

Cat

Dogs went crazy. Here kitty! Here!

Here kitty!

Look who stopped by!

Al and Jude

Hi!

These roses bloomed just for my friends’ visit! More Valentine’s Day activity, I say.

Valentine’s Roses

Ginger’s main lump is so very large. Think grapefruit-sized. This is a lovely picture of her…lump is unavailable.

Beautiful GinGer

I ran into a friend who has Golden Retrievers Sunday. She told me how many of hers died of cancer, I was appalled. The last one, she said, came up sick suddenly and they took him to the vet and found the dog was full of cancer. How amazing these dogs are that they hide their pain so well. If not for Ginger’s apparent symptoms, the lumps, I wouldn’t know she had cancer.

I wanted that cancer to go away. I can’t fool myself. The lump won’t let me. But I am still feeding her the herbs and vitamins and mushrooms. I think that is helping to keep her with me longer. She is a gem of a Dobergirl. She is slowing down some. Everyday is a blessing, though. When it comes down to it, we should all think that way because it is the case.

Case of the Missing Coldstone Waffle Cone

9:56 pm – I walked to the front door, hands full, waved good-bye to my friends and shut the door. My Doberchildren greeted me with yelps of joy, demand barking and pokes to the legs. I had my hands full with jackets, purse, and the waffle cup with melted coffee ice cream that I hadn’t gotten to eat yet. I put everything down somewhere, and opened the back door so the stampeding Doberherd could enjoy the cool air.

 

The papaya tree rat, I assume, was what caught half the herds interest. It was not a squirrel, so the full posse was not interested in the goings-on of those that surrounded an area and maintained a perimeter until 10 to 15 minutes later when I called everyone into the house. Immediately before that, I was thinking about divvying up that waffle cone to a few deserving Doberchildren.

 

10:19 pm – I went for my waffle cone, but notice something suspicious when I reached for it. There was no cone. No cone, no yummy liquid ice cream, no paper cup holding it. Huh?

 

10:20 pm – I searched other places where I may have stashed that cone, but it wasn’t there either. The cone left the planet, took a hike, was no more.

 

10:21 pm – I looked around me, and wondered. Could one of the innocent faces surrounding me have put paws on stove, pulled cone and all off and eaten it? I thought about it, and decided yes, that could have happened. There are two particular characters amongst the posse toward whom I hold these suspicions.

 

Suspect #1 – Pippin

Suspect #1 - Pippin

Altnames: Pippin Shitz, Pips, Pippinator

 

Pippin has a grab-and-eat rap sheet a mile long. Her most monumental heist was 16 cooked chicken thighs cooling on a plate in the sink – plucked out and devoured all 16 of them in under 3 minutes. She’s the shortest Doberchild in the household, has a bum front elbow, but neither of those hindrances slow her down. Her drive is bigger than her midget size and her mechanically challenged limb combined. Was seen dodging the nosy noses of several of Fort Doberdale’s finest sinffers shortly after the waffle cone went missing.

 

Suspect #2 – Raven

Suspect #2 - Raven

Altnames: Little Big Pants, Raving Raven

 

Raven’s been seen with paws on top of tables, chest freezers, crates, you name it. She’s comfortable walking on tables, flower beds, through papaya trees, and if not for gravity, the ceiling would be her stomping ground. No rap sheet yet on grab-and-eat. Continue to monitor.

 

Evidence will be collected in the a.m. Most likely, if perp is caught in the act of taking dump, cardboard cup fragments will close this case.

 

Follow-up then.

 

Oliver and The Psychic

Last night I called Cat Chat on Sirus radio, and after waiting 32 minutes, got to talk to Ann Marie Sawicki.  She is very popular!

My question revolved around Oliver.

Oliver

About six or seven weeks ago, he came inside with a nickel-sized gash in his left side.  Eeek!  The next day or two, he had one on his outter right thigh!  I put a t-shirt on him, and went looking around the back yard for that chunk of fur that was missing.  Didn’t find it.  Meanwhile, Ollie worked hard to shake the shirt.

Ollie shakes it

When I got on the air, Ann Marie asked about fencing, and I told her we have wooden around the yard and metal around the plants.  Tracie thought that was a clue, but Ann Marie asked if there are cats and if Ollie would have jumped at a cat.  We have two cat neighbors, but only one has the nerve to walk along the fence and that’s only at night.  Also, Ollie’s not a jumper. 

Ollie’s background – he was boarded in a vet’s office from his 3rd month birthday to his 1st year birthday.  He had a buddy in there, a GSD, but not in the same containment, and when the vet office got a call from the owners who decided to stay in Canada, it wasn’t a good call.  “We don’t want our dogs.  Do whatever you need to.”  This was after these people paid a $6,000 bill along the way for boarding and care.  Lucky for Ollie, he landed in rescue and I was looking for a handsome Doberboy to be a playmate for the Queen Mother, an only child back then. 

While in boarding, Ollie had to entertain himself for hours, and when I got him, realized he must have spun in little circles when he got excited about something or out of boredom.  He knocked himself in the head a lot at first because he moved around in a sudden swoop and didn’t realize in the real world, such things as furniture exists.  He learned.  Now when he gets excited, as in there is a squirrel running by the FD campus, he runs in big circles on his paved track.  But Ollie doesn’t jump up on anything except the furniture.  He’s a spinner, not a jumper.

After I said no to the cat/jumping answer, Tracie asked me a few questions about Ollie while Ann Marie tried to connect to my $6,000 dog on the psychic level.  Tracie applauded that Oliver has natural ears, and I told her I was pro-tail, too.  I told her that I’d put a t-shirt on Oliver when he had his boo-boo’s because let’s face it, you cannot keep an Ace bandage around the middle of your dog.  I know.  I’ve tried. 

Then Ann Marie came back in and said she’d connected to Oliver and he didn’t want to talk about it.  Great.  I’d waited for 32 minutes, and the Divo didn’t want to talk about it?

Ann Marie said that Oliver said he did something stupid when he got gashed, and didn’t think I would see it.  Ann Marie told him, “Yes, but you did it twice.”  Ollie returned with, “Yes, I know.  I was strutting my stuff and did something stupid, and won’t do it again.”

Well, so far he hasn’t done it again, but dagnabbit, I wanted to find the place in the yard that bit him, so I could fix it.  I suppose it will remain a mystery at this point, and any fur that had been hanging from the spot is gone.  I’d wondered, though, with the way these kids play fetch games, if Ollie’s fur wasn’t in between someone’s teeth.

Raven

Na.