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Dobergramps Regis

Regis is the resident Dobergramps at Fort Doberdale. He was adopted within a few weeks of Ginger at the end of 2005. He has wobbly back legs, and had probably been in an accident of some sort years ago because he has some scars on his back legs where hair will not dare grow in.

Regis is a big boy, and like a lot of seniors of all species, a lot of his parts sag. He has the best neck. I love to hold it and watch it wobble. His underbelly, now that it has something in it to sag, does a nice wobble as well. He came to Fort Doberdale a little undernurished and very depressed. Another old dog left to die at a shelter.

I would guess Regis was a studly boy, as he was not neutered until I adopted him, and he was no spring chickie then…er rooster, I mean. But he likes his girls, and it has taken him a while to realize he’s not the macho guy he once was. He loves to boss Bouchard around, and Bouchard is a little scared of Regis, which isn’t a bad thing really. Bouchard needed a little bit to be put in a place where he could revere an elder male. And he does.

Regis favorite thing to do is get out the back door first, turn around, and bully Bouchard until I come along to break it up so Bouch can get outside. Regis moves like a rusty old tank, and Bouchard moves like a Doberduck. Unfortunately Bouchard’s time of malnourishment was in his formative months, so he had nothing to build his bones and muscles till after they were put in place and lacking.

Regis barks in Bouchard’s ear when the Fort Doberdale Squirrel Posse is tracking the progress of the local squirrel patriach, Clem, or one of his relatives. He also barks in his ear when he finds it necessary. Regis reminds me of a drill sergeant, and Bouchard is the frustrated boot camp soldier.

When I throw the ball for the Posse, Regis gets riled up to the point that he has jumped up at me if I’m on a chair, and grabbed at the ball. He can’t run after the ball, and he wants his turn to hold onto it so everyone can honor him as the ball keepper.

Today was one of those times. I gave him the ball, and with the exception of one finger, the pass off went fairly painlessly. Regis was the honorable Cuz Ball Mann, aka, “The Mann,” and had his time in the sun where the other players tried to figure out how to get the ball back into circulation.

You may notice another Cuz ball in this picture. There may be a half dozen other Cuz balls, but once one Cuz ball is nominated as “the ball,” the other ones don’t count if you’re a player in the big game.

Regis with the Cuz Ball

While the other big game players figured out how they were going to retrieve the ball from the Dobergramps, Regis tore into the grass, ripping it out like Macho Mann, and showing his might.

Regis eating grass

Sometimes, Regis has senior moments and trips over things…like the hose or the threshhold. And other times he gets a look on his face as if he is trying to remember what he was doing. Like today when he was guarding the Cuz Ball, that look suddenly came over his face.

I’m thinking

That’s when the others know they can safely get the Cuz Ball back…because he forgot he was guarding it.

Time’s up, Leissl says.

By the time he realizes what’s going on, it’s time to start the game over again.

Please throw this ball!

By the way, November is Adopt-A-Senior Month. Seniors are often overlooked, but, with their antics, love of life, and calm natures, are a wonderful addition to a household. They appreciate having a warm hearted person to love and a soft place to rest their old bones. Check our seniors page out for some very lovely adoptable characters looking for love and stability in their golden years.

Harness News

Guess who got a new harness this morning.

Raven!

Meanwhile, the Dober-maid learned not to wash the harnesses with the towels.

Lint Basket

There are some harnesses in this basket of lint. I swear!

Ginger’s First Pain Pill

Today, Ginger limped on her right front leg for the first time. Her back right leg has been bothersome now and then. Before knowing about the cancer, I thought it was from playing too hard and muscle aches.

I reached down to massage her under her front arm pit, and felt the hard, massive lump there. How fast these ugly tumors grow. When her back leg would ache, I could massage the pain away. But it wasn’t so for this disgusting thing I felt beneath her today. She didn’t get comfort from my massage, so I stopped. Instead, for the first time, I went into the house to look at the two bottles of pills the veterinarian sent home with us. I noticed they were for pain. That’s all I looked at when I put them in the medicine chest. I didn’t believe we would need them. I thought praying, diet, lots of love and visualization would clear Ginger’s body of the cancer. But this cancer is deaf to the tones of healing. It’s claimed her body and is taking it over without mercy.

I read the bottles today, figuring I would have to guess which pain pill to give her. Not so. This veterinarian knew what was coming. I chose the bottle that said, “Give for pain and limping,” and gave her the dose with food.

After Ginger’s First Pain Pill

Ginger still played. She tried to keep up, but she wears out faster now. Luigi is her best playmate. He is my boy, and is the best energy around this house. He played her game, and we are blessed for his patience and fun spirit. No matter who he’s battling wits with.

Luigi and Ginger playing

Bouchard has been the most blessed by Ginger’s adoption. She came home on December 7, 2005. She brought him out of his shell and taught him to play. Ginger is the only red girl in the pack, and Bouchard is a red boy. Ginger validated him. Bouchard was pulled from a shelter when he was under a year old, a skin-and-bones boy who’d been left behind when his people moved. He was scared, water he drank went right through him, and he had no concept of dogspeak. He seemed to think any move towards him by a dog was an aggressive one and he’d react first, think later. He’s much better now, and a lot of credit goes to Ginger who gently got his playful self rolling. I have a feeling Bouchard isn’t doing well with recognizing Ginger’s new scents. The scents from cancer. Tonight, he chose to watch the sunset rather than play.

Bouchard’s Sunset

Parking

I don’t want to forget this ever, so thought I’d write a quick piece on it.

After lunch, I was driving into the parking lot, which is 6 stories of driving a circular staircase. The only difference is, there are no stairs…just circulars. And you multiply that by 2, as each story takes two semi-circles to complete.

On my 4th circle, I spotted a fairly good spot, which I’d have to back into. When I started to arrange my back end, I noticed an even better spot two spaces away. That is two spaces CLOSER to the elevator! So I tried to fix the rear end of my truck to fit, but I was way off.

I pulled back out and looked both ways. Still had no one coming, so I tried again. Boy was I off for a second time! But now I had two cars waiting behind me and one in front of me. I felt defeated and a little embarrassed.

I inched forward to move onto another spot when I heard someone yelling, “You wan me to do dat for ya? Huh? You wan me to do dat for ya?”

I looked up and saw a short fellow, sort of having a Santa shape, with the car of his trunk opened and he was looking at me. I yelled, “I really could do it myself, but everyone’s got me blocked in now.”

Next thing I hear, “OK, move it along! Let’s go!” He’s directing people around me!

I yelled, “That’s very nice of you. Are you from New York?” Usually, I don’t think of the two in one sentence. Sorry. But I don’t run into many New Yorkers who want to HELP me into a spot. Most of the time, they are trying to run me out of one. So I was very confused. Greatful, but confused.

He cleared the way for me, and asked again, “You wan me to do dat for ya?”

I said, “No, really, I can do this. Just watch me!” And I did do it. With one full swoop.

After I got out of my truck, I asked him again, “Thank you so much. Are you from New York?” He did have an accent.

He told me he was not and did not offer his origin, so I figured I wouldn’t ask again. He was carrying his shoe shine box, and a smile on his face. That was enough for me. He was a nice guy. They are not as easy to find around South Florida as one would hope or think. It was my lucky day.

A few Photos from BCAS

I took these pictures on Sunday, October 22. They were for a friend who doesn’t live around here. This is the front of Broward County Animal Services.

Front Door of BCAS

This is there sign, which when I read it, got me into action. I was saving cans at work and home to bring to the shelter.

Sign

Other people drop their cans off, too. This day, I had to throw the cans over the barb-wired fence because the lot is locked up on Sunday.

Rolling bucket of cans

The next day, a Monday, I found Mr. Fawn in my neighborhood, so I returned to the shelter parking lot anyway.

Here is the colorful Spay Mobile of BCAS.

Spay Mobile