Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 12, 2020
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Fantasy
The Empty Nest period of my life draws enticingly nearer by the day.
I don't care that it's still several years away, a girl can dream, can't she?
To that end, I have begun to fantasize.
Please enjoy a few images from my fantasy collection...
What. At least some of these things are obtainable.
I don't care that it's still several years away, a girl can dream, can't she?
To that end, I have begun to fantasize.
Please enjoy a few images from my fantasy collection...
What. At least some of these things are obtainable.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Wordless Wednesday
Happy birthday (+/-), Blue! How's it feel to be 15? Doesn't that make you like 105? What's your secret?
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Sweet Sophie
The worst part of having a pet, by far, is saying goodbye.
We had to say goodbye to one of our most cherished pets last night.
To make matters worse, we were completely blindsided. We had just returned from vacation, and we were greeting all our dogs, when we realized our little Sophie Cakes was not among the horde. I sent someone outside to call her, and Daniel went into the Dining Room and Game Room to look for her.
He saw her lying next to the door in the Game Room, and thought she was asleep. He walked over to her, excited to say hello. He called her, and reached down to pet her and nudge her to wake, and realized she had died.
Needless to say, we were all traumatized, and what followed was much crying and questioning and hugging and comforting and more crying and more hugging and so much sadness.
Since we had someone coming over twice a day while we were away, and it didn't seem like she had been gone long, we think she had died earlier that day. By all appearances, she died in her sleep. There was no sign of struggle or trauma. Her belly was not enlarged and we saw no blood or evidence of anything out of the ordinary. Stroke? Aneurysm? Heart attack? We'll never know.
What we do know is that we are all left with an empty space that hurts.
We will miss her bat ears.
Her spins.
Her cuddliness.
Her couch potato ways.
Her silence.
Her big melty eyes that said so much.
Her trust in us.
For those of you not familiar with her story, you can read about her here.
But in a nutshell, we got her from the shelter about 5 1/2 years ago. We were told that they had tracked down her previous owners, but they didn't want her back because she was always running away. Well, judging by the scars all over her head, we think we had a pretty good understanding of why she ran away.
She took to each and every one of us right away, and was content to stay with us. She formed a strong bond with James, and went up to his room every night to sleep cuddled up next to him. Silent, and with a history of trauma, they had much in common.
I'm glad to know that the bulk of her life was happy, and that she was loved and cherished.
But we will miss her.
So, so much....
We had to say goodbye to one of our most cherished pets last night.
To make matters worse, we were completely blindsided. We had just returned from vacation, and we were greeting all our dogs, when we realized our little Sophie Cakes was not among the horde. I sent someone outside to call her, and Daniel went into the Dining Room and Game Room to look for her.
He saw her lying next to the door in the Game Room, and thought she was asleep. He walked over to her, excited to say hello. He called her, and reached down to pet her and nudge her to wake, and realized she had died.
Needless to say, we were all traumatized, and what followed was much crying and questioning and hugging and comforting and more crying and more hugging and so much sadness.
Since we had someone coming over twice a day while we were away, and it didn't seem like she had been gone long, we think she had died earlier that day. By all appearances, she died in her sleep. There was no sign of struggle or trauma. Her belly was not enlarged and we saw no blood or evidence of anything out of the ordinary. Stroke? Aneurysm? Heart attack? We'll never know.
What we do know is that we are all left with an empty space that hurts.
We will miss her bat ears.
Her spins.
Her cuddliness.
Her couch potato ways.
Her silence.
Her big melty eyes that said so much.
Her trust in us.
For those of you not familiar with her story, you can read about her here.
But in a nutshell, we got her from the shelter about 5 1/2 years ago. We were told that they had tracked down her previous owners, but they didn't want her back because she was always running away. Well, judging by the scars all over her head, we think we had a pretty good understanding of why she ran away.
She took to each and every one of us right away, and was content to stay with us. She formed a strong bond with James, and went up to his room every night to sleep cuddled up next to him. Silent, and with a history of trauma, they had much in common.
I'm glad to know that the bulk of her life was happy, and that she was loved and cherished.
But we will miss her.
So, so much....
Friday, April 12, 2013
Farm Friday: Ill-Conceived Notion
This is something I posted a couple years ago. I file it under the "what was I thinking?" category...
As I was making the appointment with the vet's office, I thought to myself,
This is an ill-conceived notion.
A few of my critters were due for their annual shots
OK, 2 mths past due, but who's counting?
so I was figuring who to take. Since my vet gives a discount to any client deranged enough to bring in more than two animals at a time, I thought it prudent to take advantage of the savings. Also, more animals at once means fewer trips all together.
And I knew my yellow Lab had another ear infection. See, I'm kind of like an animal expert, so when she tilts her head back and scratches it slowly with her hind foot, then examines the foot, sniffs it, and licks the bacteria-laden puss from her claws, I just made that leap in my brain. I'm smart that way.
It's sorta like when a hillbilly picks some festering bit of squirrel from between his teeth, studies it, then eats it.
So I decided two dogs and two cats would be a nice, balanced mix. Wisely, I determined that putting both cats in one carrier would free up one hand, making things more efficient. They would be comfortable, I was sure, as it was quite roomy.
By roomy, I mean it was roughly the size of a one-car garage.
As it had a handle, I considered it a "carrier", but much like a hanky in a breast pocket, it was all for show.
This was meant to be set in place in one's home and remain there. If the house were to be sold, this "carrier" would be sold along with it, much like a refrigerator or an oven.
With the cats comfortably lounging in their respective corners, I hoisted it up and proceeded to get it downstairs to the car. Besides the mass and the bulky dimensions of the carrier itself, I hadn't thought that I would also be hauling the combined 25 lbs of the cats themselves. My back and neck muscles were bulging, I started to break out in a cold sweat, and I was muttering obscenities under my breath, but get it downstairs I did.
Next I brought the dogs down. Sunny (the Lab) was wiggling all over, excited at the prospect of
going somewhere
and
doing something.
She leaped before the door was fully open.
You know how when Wile E Coyote runs headlong into a cliff painted deceptively like a tunnel, and his body accordians up and he plays music? I can attest that this happens in real life.
When her body straightened out, and with the door in its fully upright position, she jumped into the back of the car. By the time I leveraged the carrier into place beside her, I had to spend a few minutes picking up the crayons, coloring books, headphones and socks that had been dislodged from the car due to Sunny's perpetual state of wiggle-iness.
We got to the vet's in short order and I proceeded to unload without incident. Getting them into the office was another matter.
First Sunny wedged herself into the doorway just as I was edging the carrier through.
She is not known for her intellect.
They were jammed, but I unstuck them and tried again. This time I told the dogs to stay as I tried to put the carrier through first. But Cindy Lou, the little Rat Terrier, darted under the carrier and around my ankles a couple times, winding me up like a top, then sprinting back the way she came, sending me spinning.
Unfortunately the act of unwinding herself only served to wind Sunny up.
I put the carrier on the ground and proceeded to intricately step over and under leashes, much like Tom Cruise avoiding lasers in a spy movie.
Untangled, I left the carrier where it was and got the dogs in the door, then dragged the portable shed through the doorway inch by inch.
We had made it.
Into the foyer.
We then had to repeat the whole process to get through the next door and into the office proper.
Only once I opened said door, the antiseptic smell of Vet's Office washed over the dogs and they knew where they were. This was no longer an adventurous outing, but an excursion through the gates of Hell.
They both put their full body weights into pulling back against their leashes. This while I was pushing the carrier through the doorway with about 1/2 inch to spare on either side, like I was moving a dresser into a bedroom. I pushed it into the office as far as my arms would reach, then stepped back and flung the dogs in with one mighty, adrenaline-surge of strength.
I recovered my breath for a few moments in the waiting room, slumped in a chair, my hair plastered to my face, my clothes enshroudeded in dog hair. The dogs were trembling in the corner. The cats, nonplussed, gazed out at me from the confines of their mini mansion.
The time came to weigh the dogs and Sunny lumbered onto the scale. I know I heard it creak. For a split second her motion stopped and her weight registered.
101 pounds.
My mind's eye offered up several snapshots:
Sunny parked under the table, catching each food particle before it hit the floor.
Sunny beating the other dogs to the dishes placed on the floor to pre-rinse before going in the dishwasher.
Sunny trying to wedge her massive body inside the dishwasher to get any nuances of food left behind from the pre-rinse.
She was all about the food.
Next it was Cindy Lou's turn.
"Go ahead and put her on the scale", instructed the tech.
"She is on the scale", I replied.
She weighed all of 8 pounds.
We got them all in the exam room and the the vet did his thing and all went well. Except Cindy, having never been to the vet's before, was nervous. Standing on the exam table, facing the vet, she saw his hand reach out to her and she wanted away. With her little tail being pressed up against my arm, she had nowhere to go. So she started backing her hindquarters up my body till her back legs were on my shoulder and she was doing a full handstand, completely vertically, upside-down.
Yes. I have normal animals.
The exam over, with thorough examinations and multiple vaccinations for each of them and two new drugs for Sunny's ears, I headed to the desk to check out.
There was much clicking of the keyboard.
There were many papers printed.
There were consultations in hushed whispers.
I was presented with the bill.
$401 dollars.
My God in heaven.
This was 1/2 a month's worth of groceries.
This was a pair of shoes and a pack of socks for each member of the family. And throw in some underwear.
This was a couple month's worth of school lunches.
This was a trip to WalMart when I only planned on getting some Tide and Ziplock Bags but ended up buying everything that I saw that I thought we needed at the time including that cute little throw-rug that would look just right by the front door.
There was only one thing for it.
Sell the children for scientific experimentation.
As I was making the appointment with the vet's office, I thought to myself,
This is an ill-conceived notion.
A few of my critters were due for their annual shots
OK, 2 mths past due, but who's counting?
so I was figuring who to take. Since my vet gives a discount to any client deranged enough to bring in more than two animals at a time, I thought it prudent to take advantage of the savings. Also, more animals at once means fewer trips all together.
And I knew my yellow Lab had another ear infection. See, I'm kind of like an animal expert, so when she tilts her head back and scratches it slowly with her hind foot, then examines the foot, sniffs it, and licks the bacteria-laden puss from her claws, I just made that leap in my brain. I'm smart that way.
It's sorta like when a hillbilly picks some festering bit of squirrel from between his teeth, studies it, then eats it.
So I decided two dogs and two cats would be a nice, balanced mix. Wisely, I determined that putting both cats in one carrier would free up one hand, making things more efficient. They would be comfortable, I was sure, as it was quite roomy.
By roomy, I mean it was roughly the size of a one-car garage.
As it had a handle, I considered it a "carrier", but much like a hanky in a breast pocket, it was all for show.
This was meant to be set in place in one's home and remain there. If the house were to be sold, this "carrier" would be sold along with it, much like a refrigerator or an oven.
With the cats comfortably lounging in their respective corners, I hoisted it up and proceeded to get it downstairs to the car. Besides the mass and the bulky dimensions of the carrier itself, I hadn't thought that I would also be hauling the combined 25 lbs of the cats themselves. My back and neck muscles were bulging, I started to break out in a cold sweat, and I was muttering obscenities under my breath, but get it downstairs I did.
Next I brought the dogs down. Sunny (the Lab) was wiggling all over, excited at the prospect of
going somewhere
and
doing something.
She leaped before the door was fully open.
You know how when Wile E Coyote runs headlong into a cliff painted deceptively like a tunnel, and his body accordians up and he plays music? I can attest that this happens in real life.
When her body straightened out, and with the door in its fully upright position, she jumped into the back of the car. By the time I leveraged the carrier into place beside her, I had to spend a few minutes picking up the crayons, coloring books, headphones and socks that had been dislodged from the car due to Sunny's perpetual state of wiggle-iness.
We got to the vet's in short order and I proceeded to unload without incident. Getting them into the office was another matter.
First Sunny wedged herself into the doorway just as I was edging the carrier through.
She is not known for her intellect.
They were jammed, but I unstuck them and tried again. This time I told the dogs to stay as I tried to put the carrier through first. But Cindy Lou, the little Rat Terrier, darted under the carrier and around my ankles a couple times, winding me up like a top, then sprinting back the way she came, sending me spinning.
Unfortunately the act of unwinding herself only served to wind Sunny up.
I put the carrier on the ground and proceeded to intricately step over and under leashes, much like Tom Cruise avoiding lasers in a spy movie.
Untangled, I left the carrier where it was and got the dogs in the door, then dragged the portable shed through the doorway inch by inch.
We had made it.
Into the foyer.
We then had to repeat the whole process to get through the next door and into the office proper.
Only once I opened said door, the antiseptic smell of Vet's Office washed over the dogs and they knew where they were. This was no longer an adventurous outing, but an excursion through the gates of Hell.
They both put their full body weights into pulling back against their leashes. This while I was pushing the carrier through the doorway with about 1/2 inch to spare on either side, like I was moving a dresser into a bedroom. I pushed it into the office as far as my arms would reach, then stepped back and flung the dogs in with one mighty, adrenaline-surge of strength.
I recovered my breath for a few moments in the waiting room, slumped in a chair, my hair plastered to my face, my clothes enshroudeded in dog hair. The dogs were trembling in the corner. The cats, nonplussed, gazed out at me from the confines of their mini mansion.
The time came to weigh the dogs and Sunny lumbered onto the scale. I know I heard it creak. For a split second her motion stopped and her weight registered.
101 pounds.
My mind's eye offered up several snapshots:
Sunny parked under the table, catching each food particle before it hit the floor.
Sunny beating the other dogs to the dishes placed on the floor to pre-rinse before going in the dishwasher.
Sunny trying to wedge her massive body inside the dishwasher to get any nuances of food left behind from the pre-rinse.
She was all about the food.
Next it was Cindy Lou's turn.
"Go ahead and put her on the scale", instructed the tech.
"She is on the scale", I replied.
She weighed all of 8 pounds.
We got them all in the exam room and the the vet did his thing and all went well. Except Cindy, having never been to the vet's before, was nervous. Standing on the exam table, facing the vet, she saw his hand reach out to her and she wanted away. With her little tail being pressed up against my arm, she had nowhere to go. So she started backing her hindquarters up my body till her back legs were on my shoulder and she was doing a full handstand, completely vertically, upside-down.
Yes. I have normal animals.
The exam over, with thorough examinations and multiple vaccinations for each of them and two new drugs for Sunny's ears, I headed to the desk to check out.
There was much clicking of the keyboard.
There were many papers printed.
There were consultations in hushed whispers.
I was presented with the bill.
$401 dollars.
My God in heaven.
This was 1/2 a month's worth of groceries.
This was a pair of shoes and a pack of socks for each member of the family. And throw in some underwear.
This was a couple month's worth of school lunches.
This was a trip to WalMart when I only planned on getting some Tide and Ziplock Bags but ended up buying everything that I saw that I thought we needed at the time including that cute little throw-rug that would look just right by the front door.
There was only one thing for it.
Sell the children for scientific experimentation.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Blue Dog
The most senior of our six dogs is an old feller named Blue. Whether I call him Blue Dog or Handsome or Bubby, I have to say it a little louder now because he's beginning to lose his hearing. Since he's 13 and that's really his only physical problem, we can't complain. When we take him in for his yearly checkup and shots, the vet is always amazed at how great he's doing, and thinks he looks half his age. We got him before our youngest was even crawling and our oldest was still in preschool. So he's been a part of this family for a very long time.
But a week ago it looked like his age had finally caught up with him. The poor old thing was gravely ill. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say it involved lots of purging of his system, from both ends.
And a good deal of blood.
We actually thought we might be looking at his last days. And this while my oldest child was halfway around the world in Italy.
We brought him to the vet, and she wasn't too optimistic. She kept him there over Easter weekend, hooked up to IV fluids and meds. I was dying the eggs and cooking Easter dinner, but frettin' and pacin' the whole while. Finally got that phone call to give me an update, and I was thrilled to learn he was on the mend.
He came home the day after Easter looking MUCH better. And he's going to be just fine.
If only I can make it through two weeks of managing his meds. I give him some tube medicine I have to squirt in his mouth twice a day for two weeks, but I have to give it an hour after his pills. I give him two pills twice a day that I have to give him 1/2 hour before or after his special canned food. And I need to give him 1/2 a pain pill as needed. Ummm, last I checked, he can't talk. So when do I give it, when he's clutching his belly and rolling his eyes?
That's OK, I don't mind. I'm just SO happy to have him home!!!!
Love you, Blue....
*******
Throw me a vote? You know the drill by now. Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
*************
Check out my blog-hoppin' schedule in my sidebar, and come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Wordless Wednesday: He's BACK!
MY BOY IS BACK!
HER boy is back!
************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs. You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
HER boy is back!
************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs. You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
How My Dog Makes a Difference in Our Family
“This post is underwritten by Dog Fence DIY, the most affordable resource for wireless dog fencing.”
How My Dog Makes a Difference in Our Family
People get dogs for all sorts of reasons.
To be a companion for their children,
Watchdog for house and home
Exercise, hobbies, sports…
Dogs will generally fulfill whatever role you have in mind for them, with a tongue-lolling grin and a wag of the tail.
In my home, we have gotten dogs to protect livestock, to herd sheep, to keep our family safe, to play with our children.
However, one of our little dogs came into our lives without a purpose, and then accidentally found one.
Sophie is a shelter dog; a mixed breed whose owners didn’t want her back. The scars on her head and her history of being a repeat runaway told a story of abuse. After she had been home with us for a while, I was watching a program on TV about animal rescue workers. When our Sophie heard the sounds of the dogs yelping in the animal shelter, she ran across the room, jumped up in my lap, and buried her head in my arms as she trembled. It seems that between her abusive first home, and her time spent “behind bars” in the shelter, she had some trauma to deal with.
Our family is no stranger to the issue of trauma. Three of our six children are adopted, and were old enough at the times they were placed in the orphanages to remember the abuse. Their years in the orphanage were not easy, either, and when they finally joined our family at the ages of five, 10, and 13, the memories of their traumas were here to stay.
Sometimes, just like with our little dog, when these kids appear happy and well-adjusted, it’s easy to forget what they’ve been through until something triggers memories of darker times. Sophie made it clear to me, because dogs don’t pretend. The sound of the crying dogs triggered a memory of a traumatic time for her, and she came to me for comfort. With my kids, it’s rarely so obvious what’s at play, but Sophie’s actions help me to look a little more closely at what’s going on, and to question what might be happening under the surface.
Besides being a good reminder to me of what to look for, she is also a fount of unconditional love for the oldest (and most traumatized) of my adopted children. The two of them share a very special bond that can’t be put to words. If he is sitting on the sofa watching TV, she is beside him as he strokes her velvet ears. When he starts up the stairs to go to bed, she is right behind him. They sleep together in his bed every night, both haunted by dreams of days past, but comforted by the warmth of the one snuggled against.
Friend, companion, therapist. Sophie fills many roles in this family, and for one special boy in particular.
****************************
Read it.
Like it?
Follow it.
Please?
Thanks.
(Follow my blog by adding yourself as a follower with Google Friends Connect in my sidebar!)
***************************
Just like Sophie loves James, I will love you forever if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs. You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller.
Come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
How My Dog Makes a Difference in Our Family
People get dogs for all sorts of reasons.
To be a companion for their children,
Watchdog for house and home
Exercise, hobbies, sports…
Dogs will generally fulfill whatever role you have in mind for them, with a tongue-lolling grin and a wag of the tail.
In my home, we have gotten dogs to protect livestock, to herd sheep, to keep our family safe, to play with our children.
However, one of our little dogs came into our lives without a purpose, and then accidentally found one.
Sophie is a shelter dog; a mixed breed whose owners didn’t want her back. The scars on her head and her history of being a repeat runaway told a story of abuse. After she had been home with us for a while, I was watching a program on TV about animal rescue workers. When our Sophie heard the sounds of the dogs yelping in the animal shelter, she ran across the room, jumped up in my lap, and buried her head in my arms as she trembled. It seems that between her abusive first home, and her time spent “behind bars” in the shelter, she had some trauma to deal with.
Our family is no stranger to the issue of trauma. Three of our six children are adopted, and were old enough at the times they were placed in the orphanages to remember the abuse. Their years in the orphanage were not easy, either, and when they finally joined our family at the ages of five, 10, and 13, the memories of their traumas were here to stay.
Sometimes, just like with our little dog, when these kids appear happy and well-adjusted, it’s easy to forget what they’ve been through until something triggers memories of darker times. Sophie made it clear to me, because dogs don’t pretend. The sound of the crying dogs triggered a memory of a traumatic time for her, and she came to me for comfort. With my kids, it’s rarely so obvious what’s at play, but Sophie’s actions help me to look a little more closely at what’s going on, and to question what might be happening under the surface.
Besides being a good reminder to me of what to look for, she is also a fount of unconditional love for the oldest (and most traumatized) of my adopted children. The two of them share a very special bond that can’t be put to words. If he is sitting on the sofa watching TV, she is beside him as he strokes her velvet ears. When he starts up the stairs to go to bed, she is right behind him. They sleep together in his bed every night, both haunted by dreams of days past, but comforted by the warmth of the one snuggled against.
Friend, companion, therapist. Sophie fills many roles in this family, and for one special boy in particular.
****************************
Read it.
Like it?
Follow it.
Please?
Thanks.
(Follow my blog by adding yourself as a follower with Google Friends Connect in my sidebar!)
***************************
Just like Sophie loves James, I will love you forever if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs. You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller.
Come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Wordless Wednesday: Snow Dog
Photo by Rosie
************
Read it.
Like it?
Follow it.
Please?
Thanks.
(Follow my blog by adding yourself as a follower with Google Friends Connect in my sidebar!)
***************************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs. You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
Come take a look at my full hoppin' schedule in my sidebar, and come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Friday, January 25, 2013
A Lab? Never Again.
This is a piece I posted some time ago, but thought I would dust it off and throw it up again.
Because we are currently fighting yet another of Sunny's infamous ear infections.
*********************
Sunny is only 4 years old. The prime of her life. Should be the picture of health. Instead I have this dog who chews herself to the point of oozing and whose sizable ears seem to take turns getting infections.
Sunny's latest ailment was a huge hematoma in her ear. Her ear looked like a giant engorged tick. In order to save yet another costly trip to the vet, I talked Fred into bringing a syringe home so he could drain it himself.
It did not go well. Blood and body fluids, a yelping, twisting 95 pound dog and a frustrated and disgusted surgeon-turned-vet does not make a pretty picture. And of course, like the Gulf oil geyser, the thing refilled in no time flat. Took her to the vet finally, piggy-backing her onto my regularly scheduled appointment with another dog and two cats, and the vet said to leave it alone and it might go away. Which, I think, is Fred's philosphy with our animals in general. But, like the philosophy, the vet's theory didn't work. The thing kept getting bigger. And bigger.
She finally got to the point where she was walking around with her head held sideways. Whether from discomfort or the actual weight of the thing I don't know. But we bit the bullet and scheduled the surgery. More than $600 later, and armed with a bag full to bursting with medications, I walked out the door with her in one of those E-collars. The vet told me she might bump into things for awhile, but there was a learning curve and she would soon get the hang of it. Thing of it is, Sunny's learning curve is more like a flat line, so she pretty much continuously walks into doorways and flips over kitchen stools.
Less than a week later we were back at the vet's because she managed to develop yet another ear infection
while she was on antibiotics.
They removed her bandage and gave me more antibiotics, a topical spray, and drops to put inside her ear.
She's still bumping into things and scraping everyone's legs and her collar is now duct-taped because she managed to rip the plastic from catching it on stuff so often.
Hey, at least she can't chew her legs right now.
And, if I want to remain positive, she has matured to the point where she pretty much only chews on herself, which is a good thing. In her younger days, she has been know to chew up pool noodles, hoses, pricey water pumps, and the siding on our house. I can truly say I have a dog who eats us out of house and home.
Marley's got nothin' on Sunny.
************
Oooooh, how nice, this post was a favorite on the Farm Girl Friday blog hop!
Thanks, my peeps!
************
Take my mind off my canine problems by voting for me on Top Mommy Blogs!
You know the drill by now, don't you?
Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
Take a look at my full hoppin' schedule in my sidebar, and come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Because we are currently fighting yet another of Sunny's infamous ear infections.
*********************
Sunny is only 4 years old. The prime of her life. Should be the picture of health. Instead I have this dog who chews herself to the point of oozing and whose sizable ears seem to take turns getting infections.
Sunny's latest ailment was a huge hematoma in her ear. Her ear looked like a giant engorged tick. In order to save yet another costly trip to the vet, I talked Fred into bringing a syringe home so he could drain it himself.
It did not go well. Blood and body fluids, a yelping, twisting 95 pound dog and a frustrated and disgusted surgeon-turned-vet does not make a pretty picture. And of course, like the Gulf oil geyser, the thing refilled in no time flat. Took her to the vet finally, piggy-backing her onto my regularly scheduled appointment with another dog and two cats, and the vet said to leave it alone and it might go away. Which, I think, is Fred's philosphy with our animals in general. But, like the philosophy, the vet's theory didn't work. The thing kept getting bigger. And bigger.
She finally got to the point where she was walking around with her head held sideways. Whether from discomfort or the actual weight of the thing I don't know. But we bit the bullet and scheduled the surgery. More than $600 later, and armed with a bag full to bursting with medications, I walked out the door with her in one of those E-collars. The vet told me she might bump into things for awhile, but there was a learning curve and she would soon get the hang of it. Thing of it is, Sunny's learning curve is more like a flat line, so she pretty much continuously walks into doorways and flips over kitchen stools.
Less than a week later we were back at the vet's because she managed to develop yet another ear infection
while she was on antibiotics.
They removed her bandage and gave me more antibiotics, a topical spray, and drops to put inside her ear.
She's still bumping into things and scraping everyone's legs and her collar is now duct-taped because she managed to rip the plastic from catching it on stuff so often.
Hey, at least she can't chew her legs right now.
And, if I want to remain positive, she has matured to the point where she pretty much only chews on herself, which is a good thing. In her younger days, she has been know to chew up pool noodles, hoses, pricey water pumps, and the siding on our house. I can truly say I have a dog who eats us out of house and home.
Marley's got nothin' on Sunny.
************
Oooooh, how nice, this post was a favorite on the Farm Girl Friday blog hop!
Thanks, my peeps!
************
Take my mind off my canine problems by voting for me on Top Mommy Blogs!
You know the drill by now, don't you?
Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
Take a look at my full hoppin' schedule in my sidebar, and come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Chicken-Scratch-Saturday: Guest Post on "The Perks of a Pet"
Today I have a wonderfully eye-catching guest-post on "The Perks of a Pet", created by Allison Morris for Masters in Health Care.
The Perks of a Pet
If you’re a pet owner, chances are your Fluffy or Fido is one of your best friends in the world. Pets can definitely make your life a little bit sweeter, but what you may not realize is that they can also make your life a little bit healthier. If your health is important to you—and it probably is—then you might think about picking up a new furry best friend.
Depending on your health needs, either a dog or a cat can prove equally beneficial in many ways. Need a little more exercise in your life? Dog owners walk, on average, nearly twice as far as non-dog owners do in a given week. Or if it’s a cat you crave, your feline friend can drastically reduce your stress levels. People who have owned pets in their lifetime actually tend to live longer than those who haven’t.
If you’re pursuing a degree in healthcare, chances are that when you enter the field, you’ll be able to tell a difference between the states of health of people with pets and those without. The following infographic takes a look at just how having a furry friend makes life happier, healthier, and a whole lot better.
*********************
Don't forget to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs! Just click on this brown button with the juggling chick. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller. Check out my full schedule over in my sidebar and come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
The Perks of a Pet
If you’re a pet owner, chances are your Fluffy or Fido is one of your best friends in the world. Pets can definitely make your life a little bit sweeter, but what you may not realize is that they can also make your life a little bit healthier. If your health is important to you—and it probably is—then you might think about picking up a new furry best friend.
Depending on your health needs, either a dog or a cat can prove equally beneficial in many ways. Need a little more exercise in your life? Dog owners walk, on average, nearly twice as far as non-dog owners do in a given week. Or if it’s a cat you crave, your feline friend can drastically reduce your stress levels. People who have owned pets in their lifetime actually tend to live longer than those who haven’t.
If you’re pursuing a degree in healthcare, chances are that when you enter the field, you’ll be able to tell a difference between the states of health of people with pets and those without. The following infographic takes a look at just how having a furry friend makes life happier, healthier, and a whole lot better.
*********************
Don't forget to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs! Just click on this brown button with the juggling chick. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
***************
In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller. Check out my full schedule over in my sidebar and come join the fun!
*************
Rudeness disclaimer:
I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Farm Friday - If You Give a Mouse to Granny C...
As you may remember, I've been training Bella's Rat Terrier, Cindy Lou Who, to hunt rats, which are the scourge of our barn. And not so long ago, she caught her first....
The night before, she was hell-bent on getting at something in the heat baseboards. She was going at it, scratching and clawing and just going nuts, but to no avail.
The next morning, my Dad and stepmother (Granny C) were sitting at the dinner table, talking over a cup of coffee. They were visiting with us from Kentucky, a wonderful treat that doesn't happen often enough.
Granny C is an accountant by trade, and is a very mannerly, button-down gentlewoman.
I'm sure you can tell where this is going.
Yeah. Cindy Lou once again started going berserk over something in the baseboards. Only this time? She got it. A mouse. Or maybe a small rat? It was in that in-between place that it's hard to tell.
But she got it out from under the baseboards and carried it with head held high and legs a-prancing, making a bee-line for you-know-who.
She walked right under the table with it and dropped it at her feet. Granny C was a model of deportment. She shut her eyes and tensed up, but remained where she was with an "I never did mind about the little things" smile on her face.
As I was getting a paper towel to scoop the rodent up with, my youngest child, 12 year old Daniel, began a running commentary on the events:
"Look, Cindy dropped the rat right next to Granny C's feet!"
"Awesome, there's blood on the floor!"
"Oh my gosh, it's still moving!"
With each exclamation, Granny C's body tensed tighter and tighter, her eyes squeezed closed just a little more, and her smile grew slightly wider across her face. But never once did she yelp, never once did she jump up onto her chair and scream in holy terror, never once did she race across the room like the hounds of hell were on her heels.
I don't know if Miss Manners has ever handled the question:
How does one behave if one's host's dog drops a partially dead rodent at one's feet?
But I just know she would have been proud of Granny C's reaction.
**************
Thanks for stopping by.
If you like my blog, I hope you'll be able to take a minute to add yourself as a follower.
Come back soon! I'm here every day, rain or shine...
~Anne
**************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs: You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
**************
(Vintage Apron patterns)
Friday, June 8, 2012
Farm Friday - Snake in the Grass
Put my garden in a few weeks ago.
Weed-wacked it.
Tilled it.
Raked it.
Mulched it.
Planted it.
Watered it.
All the greenery at the back is strawberries. They're coming in like gangbusters this year.
I buy my plants already started.
FAR too lazy to start them from seed. Don't judge.
And the place I get them was out of some of what I needed, so I'll need to make another trip. Right now I've got parsley, chives, tomatoes, red peppers, and cukes.
I need to put in a bunch more peppers and cukes, plus some basil, mint, and scallions. I'm also going to plant carrots in pots, and try growing potatoes in a trash can like I've seen on the internet.
What else. Oh, I'm going to grow some corn and some sweet potatoes over by the chicken run, and feed them directly to the chickens as they come in.
Also going to try growing a whole mess of pumpkins this year.
Anyway, when we were raking and tilling and what-not, I noticed Cindy was watching something in the grass. So of course we all went over to investigate. It was a snake. Just a harmless black snake, but it was a doozy. Cool, huh?
Doesn't that just make you wanna go start a garden?
**************
Thanks for stopping by.
If you like my blog, I hope you'll be able to take a minute to add yourself as a follower.
Come back soon! I'm here every day, rain or shine...
~Anne
**************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a couple votes:
Circle of Moms: click the pink badge, scroll down to my blog (Life on the Funny Farm), and click the thumbs-up button to vote. You can vote every day till June 20th!
Top Mommy Blogs: You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
I'm linking up today's post with the barn hop at Deborah Jean's Dandelion House. Come check it out!
Weed-wacked it.
Tilled it.
Raked it.
Mulched it.
Planted it.
Watered it.
All the greenery at the back is strawberries. They're coming in like gangbusters this year.
I buy my plants already started.
FAR too lazy to start them from seed. Don't judge.
And the place I get them was out of some of what I needed, so I'll need to make another trip. Right now I've got parsley, chives, tomatoes, red peppers, and cukes.
I need to put in a bunch more peppers and cukes, plus some basil, mint, and scallions. I'm also going to plant carrots in pots, and try growing potatoes in a trash can like I've seen on the internet.
What else. Oh, I'm going to grow some corn and some sweet potatoes over by the chicken run, and feed them directly to the chickens as they come in.
Also going to try growing a whole mess of pumpkins this year.
Doesn't that just make you wanna go start a garden?
**************
Thanks for stopping by.
If you like my blog, I hope you'll be able to take a minute to add yourself as a follower.
Come back soon! I'm here every day, rain or shine...
~Anne
**************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a couple votes:
Circle of Moms: click the pink badge, scroll down to my blog (Life on the Funny Farm), and click the thumbs-up button to vote. You can vote every day till June 20th!
Top Mommy Blogs: You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Wordless Wednesday
Needy much?
This is Cindy Lou under my desk while I'm on the computer....
Thanks for stopping by! ~Anne
***************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a couple votes:
Circle of Moms: click the pink badge, scroll down to my blog, and click the thumbs-up button to vote. You can vote every day till June 20th!
Top Mommy Blogs: You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till, like forever.
Thanks!
This is Cindy Lou under my desk while I'm on the computer....
Thanks for stopping by! ~Anne
***************
Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a couple votes:
Circle of Moms: click the pink badge, scroll down to my blog, and click the thumbs-up button to vote. You can vote every day till June 20th!
Top Mommy Blogs: You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till, like forever.
Thanks!
Friday, May 11, 2012
Farm Friday - Orphaned lamb "adopted" by unlikely Mama
I saw a story last week about a lamb who was rejected by her mother
it happens in the animal kingdom, too, folks
and then again rejected by all the other Mama sheep she approached.
Where did she find acceptance? By the Pyr-mix farm dog.
Watch the clip. Love it!
I'm throwin' in with a barn hop today with my post Let the Carnage Begin. Come check it out!
Throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs? Just one click of this button (below) and you've voted. You can vote every day!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
it happens in the animal kingdom, too, folks
and then again rejected by all the other Mama sheep she approached.
Where did she find acceptance? By the Pyr-mix farm dog.
Watch the clip. Love it!
I'm throwin' in with a barn hop today with my post Let the Carnage Begin. Come check it out!
Throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs? Just one click of this button (below) and you've voted. You can vote every day!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Friday, March 30, 2012
Farm Friday - Rat Training
Bella has a little dog named Cindy Lou. She is a Rat Terrier.That means that she and her kind have been bred to, you guessed it, hunt rats.
Living on a farm, though I hate to say it, rats we've got a-plenty. Our barn is a Shangri-La for rats, with ample food, water, and cozy dark hiding spaces.
I don't like to use poison, b/c I'm afraid it will be found by someone or something it was not intended for. My cats are good for nothin'. So I figured we might as well get with the program and start using our rat terrier.
We started training her a couple weeks ago. Back then, "training her" consisted of carrying her to the barn, where she would quake and tremble and look ready to keel over of heart seizure at any moment until chores were done and we returned to the house.
But after a while, she started getting a bit bolder, and she soon started getting excited when I told her it was time to go to the barn. Now she just about dies when I say "barn" and races out there the second I open the door. She has discovered one of their hiding places in the rabbit pen, and as soon as I open the gate she runs in and starts sniffing and scratching and trying to get at 'em.
She's still a virgin -- hasn't caught her first rat yet, but she's gotten close. She's chased and nipped, but they've always gotten away from her.
Soon. Very soon.
I will keep you posted....
No scratching and sniffing to vote for me. Just a click of this button. Thanks!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Sunday Social - Fiona
Next one down on my siggy line...
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
Is Fiona.
She's the newest canine in the group.
She's sweet.
She's awful.
She's a terrible, awful dog.
She's a lovey-dove lap-dog.
She's a terror.
She's a cute l'il l'il baby puppy.
She is exceedingly smart. She shamed all the other dogs in the obedience class.
She was a rescue dog, slated for euthenasia the next day. Probably a Border Collie/Lab cross.
She is a terribly mannered dog that has taken things from counter-tops, gotten on top of the table, chased the cats, gotten things out of the trash, chewed up stuffed animals and Christmas ornaments, ruined her Invisible Fence collar, gotten into the pasture and chased the goats.
We love her.
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
Is Fiona.
She's the newest canine in the group.
She's sweet.
She's awful.
She's a terrible, awful dog.
She's a lovey-dove lap-dog.
She's a terror.
She's a cute l'il l'il baby puppy.
She is exceedingly smart. She shamed all the other dogs in the obedience class.
She was a rescue dog, slated for euthenasia the next day. Probably a Border Collie/Lab cross.
She is a terribly mannered dog that has taken things from counter-tops, gotten on top of the table, chased the cats, gotten things out of the trash, chewed up stuffed animals and Christmas ornaments, ruined her Invisible Fence collar, gotten into the pasture and chased the goats.
We love her.
Sunday Social - Sunny
Next one down on my siggy line...
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (13)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Annabelle, Fiona, Sophie and Cindy-Lou; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
Is Sunny.
Sunny is our infamous yellow Lab. She is Patrick's "Baby Dog".
We picked her out on a farm about five years ago. Well. More like she picked us out. I had a black Lab in mind. Never did care for the yellows. But all these pups were squirming and rolling all around us, and after a bit they lost interest and ran off in pursuit of something more interesting like a bug. All except this one. She stayed right by us, following us everywhere. And after a few minutes, we got the hint and scooped her up, paid the man and brought her home.
She was tail-waggin' hell the first year or so of her life. She ate everything. She chewed up hundreds of dollars worth of pool pumps and hoses. She ate the siding on our house.
She was lethal when she first learned to swim in the pool with the kids. In her enthusiasm to swim over near them, she'd generally end up scratching the bejesus out of their backs and shoulders. Kids learned to put their hands out when they saw her coming and yell, "Space, Sunny, SPACE!" and she'd veer off to the side at the last minute.
When she was about four, she developed an enormous hematoma in one of her ears and ended up needing surgery. That was fun. Nearly two years later the thing is still draining and smelling like death warmed over. We take her back to the vet now and again, each time more hopeful than the last that they will be able to give us a cure-all, each time just as disappointed as the time before. You can smell her across the room. We clean it, we ply her with ointments and drops and pills, but she will forevermore be stinky.
Every night she faithfully follows Patrick up the stairs and sleeps on the foot of his bed. She is completely devoted to him. They play this hide and seek game where we have her sit in another room while he hides, and then we ask her, "Sunny, where's Patrick? Find Patrick!" Then she goes absolutely berserk looking for him everywhere. She whines, she runs, she pants, she sticks her head out the dog door and looks left and right, then back in to run around looking in every nook and cranny till she finds him. When she does, and she always does, she dissloves into a puddle of wiggly happiness.
Fat, happy, wiggly, stinky.....
Sunny.
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (13)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Annabelle, Fiona, Sophie and Cindy-Lou; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
Is Sunny.
Sunny is our infamous yellow Lab. She is Patrick's "Baby Dog".
We picked her out on a farm about five years ago. Well. More like she picked us out. I had a black Lab in mind. Never did care for the yellows. But all these pups were squirming and rolling all around us, and after a bit they lost interest and ran off in pursuit of something more interesting like a bug. All except this one. She stayed right by us, following us everywhere. And after a few minutes, we got the hint and scooped her up, paid the man and brought her home.
She was tail-waggin' hell the first year or so of her life. She ate everything. She chewed up hundreds of dollars worth of pool pumps and hoses. She ate the siding on our house.
She was lethal when she first learned to swim in the pool with the kids. In her enthusiasm to swim over near them, she'd generally end up scratching the bejesus out of their backs and shoulders. Kids learned to put their hands out when they saw her coming and yell, "Space, Sunny, SPACE!" and she'd veer off to the side at the last minute.
When she was about four, she developed an enormous hematoma in one of her ears and ended up needing surgery. That was fun. Nearly two years later the thing is still draining and smelling like death warmed over. We take her back to the vet now and again, each time more hopeful than the last that they will be able to give us a cure-all, each time just as disappointed as the time before. You can smell her across the room. We clean it, we ply her with ointments and drops and pills, but she will forevermore be stinky.
Every night she faithfully follows Patrick up the stairs and sleeps on the foot of his bed. She is completely devoted to him. They play this hide and seek game where we have her sit in another room while he hides, and then we ask her, "Sunny, where's Patrick? Find Patrick!" Then she goes absolutely berserk looking for him everywhere. She whines, she runs, she pants, she sticks her head out the dog door and looks left and right, then back in to run around looking in every nook and cranny till she finds him. When she does, and she always does, she dissloves into a puddle of wiggly happiness.
Fat, happy, wiggly, stinky.....
Sunny.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Sunday Social - Annabelle
Next one down on my siggy line...
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
is Annabelle.
Annabelle is our farm dog.
That means she is on patrol to watch over the critters on our farm. Namely, the goats.
See, at our old place, before we ever had a livestock guardian dog, we had sheep. And one day some neighborhood dogs got into our pasture and tore the place up. They killed one ewe, leaving her week old lamb without its mother. It was around that time I started to learn about LGDs.
Turns out they've been around for thousands of years. They are used to keep livestock safe from predators such as dogs, wolves, coyotes, mountain lions and anything that would think of taking a goat, sheep, chicken, calf, etc. LGDs consist of several different breeds, but most times when you see a large, white, hairy dog? It's a livestock guardian. Great Pyrenese, Akbash, Anatolian, Kuvasz, Komondor, Maremma. There are others, too, but that's all that comes to mind at the moment.
Guardians are NOT to be confused with herders like Border Collies, Australian Shepherds, Shelties, Collies, German Shepherds. Those dogs are bred to move the livestock from one spot to the next at the direction of the farmer/shepherd. LGDs patrol and protect. If you have more than one LGD in charge of a flock/herd, and there's trouble afoot, usually 1/2 of the dogs will run out in pursuit of the threat, and half will stay glued to the flock. There is no training required for them to learn this, it's all instinct. If you've only got one LGD, and that's all we've usually had at a time, it will run about 1/2 the distance between the flock and the threat. See, sometimes critters that work in packs, like wolves or coyotes, will create a distraction to draw the guardian away, and the others will circle in to the flock. Easy pickins. That's why the LGDs have learned to never completely leave them. So cool.
When our old LGD, Bear, was getting up in years, we decided we would need a new one. Couldn't find any in our neck of the woods, but we learned of some puppies in North Carolina. So I loaded the kids up in the car and we drove the 7 hours down to NC to a large goat farm. How do you choose which of these adorable balls of fluff to take home? Near impossible. But we chose our little cutie with the badger-colored ears and the heart-shaped nose.
Before too long she figured out what she needed to do. Bear taught her everything he knew before he passed. I never got too confident of how well she would be able to handle things if they got dicey, b/c she just seemed like such an ol' softie. But then one night we heard a huge ruckus, and ran outside to find Annabelle in a vicious fence-fight with a neighborhood dog. The goats had all run to the barn when the trouble began while Anna kept this very large dog at bay. We closed the goats up and put Annabelle in with them until we were finally able to get the owner to come collect their beast. Annabelle saved the day that night.
Now she has chickens to add to her collection of critters to keep safe, and she's as gentle as can be with her new charges.
With her human flock, too, I know I would never have to worry. If the kids are out in the fields, she follows them around, quite literally, like a puppy dog. She is gentle and sweet and affectionate and always smiling.
Since her tail is always wagging, I sometimes call her Swisher. Sometimes Belly Button (from Anna BELLE).
Whatever we call her, she's our good dog.
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
is Annabelle.
Annabelle is our farm dog.
That means she is on patrol to watch over the critters on our farm. Namely, the goats.
See, at our old place, before we ever had a livestock guardian dog, we had sheep. And one day some neighborhood dogs got into our pasture and tore the place up. They killed one ewe, leaving her week old lamb without its mother. It was around that time I started to learn about LGDs.
Turns out they've been around for thousands of years. They are used to keep livestock safe from predators such as dogs, wolves, coyotes, mountain lions and anything that would think of taking a goat, sheep, chicken, calf, etc. LGDs consist of several different breeds, but most times when you see a large, white, hairy dog? It's a livestock guardian. Great Pyrenese, Akbash, Anatolian, Kuvasz, Komondor, Maremma. There are others, too, but that's all that comes to mind at the moment.
Guardians are NOT to be confused with herders like Border Collies, Australian Shepherds, Shelties, Collies, German Shepherds. Those dogs are bred to move the livestock from one spot to the next at the direction of the farmer/shepherd. LGDs patrol and protect. If you have more than one LGD in charge of a flock/herd, and there's trouble afoot, usually 1/2 of the dogs will run out in pursuit of the threat, and half will stay glued to the flock. There is no training required for them to learn this, it's all instinct. If you've only got one LGD, and that's all we've usually had at a time, it will run about 1/2 the distance between the flock and the threat. See, sometimes critters that work in packs, like wolves or coyotes, will create a distraction to draw the guardian away, and the others will circle in to the flock. Easy pickins. That's why the LGDs have learned to never completely leave them. So cool.
When our old LGD, Bear, was getting up in years, we decided we would need a new one. Couldn't find any in our neck of the woods, but we learned of some puppies in North Carolina. So I loaded the kids up in the car and we drove the 7 hours down to NC to a large goat farm. How do you choose which of these adorable balls of fluff to take home? Near impossible. But we chose our little cutie with the badger-colored ears and the heart-shaped nose.
Before too long she figured out what she needed to do. Bear taught her everything he knew before he passed. I never got too confident of how well she would be able to handle things if they got dicey, b/c she just seemed like such an ol' softie. But then one night we heard a huge ruckus, and ran outside to find Annabelle in a vicious fence-fight with a neighborhood dog. The goats had all run to the barn when the trouble began while Anna kept this very large dog at bay. We closed the goats up and put Annabelle in with them until we were finally able to get the owner to come collect their beast. Annabelle saved the day that night.
Now she has chickens to add to her collection of critters to keep safe, and she's as gentle as can be with her new charges.
With her human flock, too, I know I would never have to worry. If the kids are out in the fields, she follows them around, quite literally, like a puppy dog. She is gentle and sweet and affectionate and always smiling.
Since her tail is always wagging, I sometimes call her Swisher. Sometimes Belly Button (from Anna BELLE).
Whatever we call her, she's our good dog.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Sunday Social - Cindy
Next one down on my siggy line...
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
Is Cindy.
Cindy is pretty new to our family. In fact, we've had her almost exactly one year, as she was a Christmas gift to Bellalast year.
See, the farm down the street from us where I used to get my eggs before I got chickens had these cute little dogs that would run out to greet me everytime I pulled up. And the times Bella came with me, she was just nuts over these dogs. And then I got to thinkin. Bella would just love one of these. So one day I asked Sarah about them, and she told me they still had a couple puppies left over from their summer litter. So I took a look at them and decided on a little female, and arranged to get her on Christmas morning. And after the kids were all done opening their gifts and things were settling down, I told Bella to have a seat and close her eyes, and then I brought little Cindy up and placed her in her arms. When Bella saw her, she just cried and cried with happiness, and they've been inseparable ever since.
I was told they were fox terriers, but all the pictures I've seen online are telling me she's a rat terrier.
All I truly know is she is a fiesty little so-n-so. She loves everyone in her family but hates anyone who is not. She barks, she nips, she lets you know in no uncertain terms you are not welcome. She knows no tricks, she is not obedient.
Her chief occupation is chew toy to our puppy Fiona. When Fiona first arrived on the scene, she was only Cindy's size, and they played together non-stop. Now Fiona towers over Cindy and is about quadruple her weight, but they still race and wrestle constantly. And I'm here to tell ya', Cindy can hold her own. Ain't nothin can take her down.
Nevertheless, she is still a cuddlebug. She wakes Bella up every morning with kisses and wiggles, and she jumps up and paws at the legs of all her human family to say hello to each and everyone of them throughout the day.
Pain in the tush, that one. But she's our little Cindy Lou Who. We'll keep her.
Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.
I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...
Is Cindy.
Cindy is pretty new to our family. In fact, we've had her almost exactly one year, as she was a Christmas gift to Bellalast year.
See, the farm down the street from us where I used to get my eggs before I got chickens had these cute little dogs that would run out to greet me everytime I pulled up. And the times Bella came with me, she was just nuts over these dogs. And then I got to thinkin. Bella would just love one of these. So one day I asked Sarah about them, and she told me they still had a couple puppies left over from their summer litter. So I took a look at them and decided on a little female, and arranged to get her on Christmas morning. And after the kids were all done opening their gifts and things were settling down, I told Bella to have a seat and close her eyes, and then I brought little Cindy up and placed her in her arms. When Bella saw her, she just cried and cried with happiness, and they've been inseparable ever since.
I was told they were fox terriers, but all the pictures I've seen online are telling me she's a rat terrier.
All I truly know is she is a fiesty little so-n-so. She loves everyone in her family but hates anyone who is not. She barks, she nips, she lets you know in no uncertain terms you are not welcome. She knows no tricks, she is not obedient.
Her chief occupation is chew toy to our puppy Fiona. When Fiona first arrived on the scene, she was only Cindy's size, and they played together non-stop. Now Fiona towers over Cindy and is about quadruple her weight, but they still race and wrestle constantly. And I'm here to tell ya', Cindy can hold her own. Ain't nothin can take her down.
Nevertheless, she is still a cuddlebug. She wakes Bella up every morning with kisses and wiggles, and she jumps up and paws at the legs of all her human family to say hello to each and everyone of them throughout the day.
Pain in the tush, that one. But she's our little Cindy Lou Who. We'll keep her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
