I think I'm still losing my hair. Mom and dad were watching a movie with grandma last night and mom was taking dead skin of my back (I know it sounds gross, but it feels so GOOD). All of a sudden a big piece came off and it had hair on it. Mom cried. Jeez mom, it's MY hair! How do you think I feel? I think it's going to be a really cold winter - being naked and all...
I haven't been to see the vet in a long time. Mom says that too, but then she says, "knock on wood". I have no idea what that has to do with anything, but I am glad I haven't had to go to the doctor. Dad was cutting Heidi's toenails Friday night and he made her scream and cry and her toenail was bleeding all over mom's leg. Cool huh? Mom didn't think so I guess, but Heidi got held and petted, and held and petted. It was sickening I tell you, sickening! I wouldn't be such a big baby about such a stupid thing. It's a TOENAIL Heidi, get over it. Geez what a girl she is... (Heidi, not mom.) I saw mom cut her leg in that big bathtub thing once and she didn't cry. She said those words that she doesn't say all the time and she yelled when she said them, but she didn't cry. Mom is NOT a baby.
Dad was gone for a long time last weekend. I guess it was only 4 days mom said, but that doesn't mean much to me. Anyway, when he came home he smelled so great! I just smelled and smelled all the stuff on his pants and boots. Then mom made him take a bath. She said he stunk up the place. I thought he smelled great. I guess he went out with his big gun and shot at some deer and that's why he smelled so good. Or maybe it was 'cause he didn't have a bath for a couple days. Mom made him though. She obviously doesn't know what a GOOD smell is!
I think tonight I'm going to get a bath. I'm not looking foward to it, but mom says I could knock a buzzard off the north end of a southbound donkey and I guess that's a bad thing. I've been trying not to eat so much poop lately, dad's been picking it up and throwing it over the fence so I can't reach it. Not very nice of him, is it? I'll forgive him though, because he got me more rabbit meat dog food. For a while they were buying other food for me. The gravy was nice, but it made me itch, so I got my old food back. Now I don't itch anymore. Guess I'll forgive him for throwing the poop away.
Dad got me some new toys the other day too. He says he got them for all of us, but I know he says that just because he doesn't want the other dogs to know how special I am. It must be hard to be them and never get any new toys. Mom found my favorite peanut treats at the store too. She says if I have to be bald I might as well have my favorite treats. I don't know if that's an even trade - hair for peanut treats, but I'll take them anyway.
Uh oh, dad's home. I gotta get off the computer. Love you all!
Chuck
Monday, November 20, 2006
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Hey! Have you Missed Me?
Mom has a job now where she's gone ALL day and I have to stay in the little room with the other kids. I don't like it one bit, but she says it won't be forever and pretty soon she'll be back home with us during the day. Nothing happens during the day when you have to stay in one little room. Do you know how BORED a guy can get with nothing to do? So far I haven't caused any trouble, but I bet I could if I wanted to!
Mom and dad think I have pemphigus (I don't know if I'm spelling that right or not), so I take prednisone all the time and I also take Imuran. Aunt Missy and her friend Brad think my hair is growing back in on my sides and on my head, but mom's not so sure. Maybe it is. I know my back feels better, the skin isn't so thick and icky. Mom puts lotion on it every night and it sure feels good when she rubs it in, I wiggle and wiggle and wiggle... Last night she put her pajamas on early and went to bed to watch TV and I got to lay in bed with her under a blanket for a long time. It was so nice. I was kind of mad at dad when he put me in my bed, but I have my heating pad to keep me warm, so it was okay. I guess. It's really cold outside. At least none of that wet white stuff is here yet, but it's been wet and cold sometimes and I don't like that. Dad has to carry me outside after dinner because I run for my bed. He says I have to poop after dinner. How does he know when I have to poop?
Tonight all kinds of weird things are coming to our door and ringing the doorbell. Dad gives them candy to make them go away. The other kids are barking and barking, but I think I'll just stay in my bed and hope the monsters don't find me here.
Mom and dad think I have pemphigus (I don't know if I'm spelling that right or not), so I take prednisone all the time and I also take Imuran. Aunt Missy and her friend Brad think my hair is growing back in on my sides and on my head, but mom's not so sure. Maybe it is. I know my back feels better, the skin isn't so thick and icky. Mom puts lotion on it every night and it sure feels good when she rubs it in, I wiggle and wiggle and wiggle... Last night she put her pajamas on early and went to bed to watch TV and I got to lay in bed with her under a blanket for a long time. It was so nice. I was kind of mad at dad when he put me in my bed, but I have my heating pad to keep me warm, so it was okay. I guess. It's really cold outside. At least none of that wet white stuff is here yet, but it's been wet and cold sometimes and I don't like that. Dad has to carry me outside after dinner because I run for my bed. He says I have to poop after dinner. How does he know when I have to poop?
Tonight all kinds of weird things are coming to our door and ringing the doorbell. Dad gives them candy to make them go away. The other kids are barking and barking, but I think I'll just stay in my bed and hope the monsters don't find me here.
Monday, October 02, 2006
My dad is the best
Maybe dad finally figured out what was wrong with my back. He thinks I might have something called pemphigus, which is actually and autoimmune disease and is a side-effect of my heart medication (ACE inhibitor). He talked to Dr. J and I'm taking prednisone all the time now and mom and dad think my back is looking better. I don't have any more open sores and it feels good again when dad rubs my back, instead of hurting. My fur isn't growing back, which I'm kind of sad about because that means I still have to wear those darm sweaters, but if I don't have any more sores that's okay with me!
Dad tried to find another heart medicine for me to take, but ACE inhibitors seem to be what I need and we can't find a substitute, so Dr. J cut my dose down to 1/2 a pill once a day. My heart seems to be doing okay with that, so maybe between cutting back the heart medicine and taking the prednisone my back will get totally better. Mom and dad are pretty happy.
It was really cold last week and dad took old the old soft stuff off the living room floor and some guys came in and put in a new floor in our living room. It's like the floor in the kitchen. Mom called them "wood floors". I called them stinky floors last week. Peeeeee Uuuuuuuuuu. It sure smelled bad in here. Mom says it smells better than the old carpet, I guess that was the soft stuff. I have to admit I may have been responsible for that soft stuff smelling bad. Sometimes I guy just has to go and can't quite make it outside, ya know? Mom has to find me a nice soft blankie or something to put in my corner again. It's not quite the same as it was. I haven't even moved my toys back there as a protest about the hard floor.
I'm still loving the heating pad Grandma Judy sent me. Mom has it on low and I sleep on a nice warm blanket in my bed. Better than the hard cold floor any day!
It was raining a lot too in the past couple of weeks, so being the mighty hunter I am, I was catching little snakes that were in the yard and all over the driveway. Dad laughed and said they weren't little snakes, they were only worms. Oh, well. I was having fun hunting them down anyway. Friday I got another bird too. All dad found was the wing and a bunch of feathers. Ha ha! I am a mighty hunter!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
I'm the healthy one for a change!
We've had a bunch of sick babies at our house! I told you all about my sister Buttercup hurting her neck. She's feeling much better, but mom and dad still carry her outside and she can't go down the stairs by herself. Mom says she going to get a hernia carrying her around. What's a hernia anyway? Mom is also talking about diet food - I hope she means for the other guys. I don't think I'd like diet food. Mom says she doesn't.
Then, Ruger ate a LOT of chocolate and had to go to the vet! Boy was mom upset. At first I thought it was because the chocolate was gone, but no, she was worried about Ruger. He ate a whole bunch of chocolate that was almost all cocoa, I guess that stuff is BAD for dogs. First she tried to make Ruger throw up by giving him some yucky stuff to drink, but Ruger wouldn't throw up. Them mom had to take him to the vet and THEY had to make him throw up. He came home later that night, but he wasn't feeling very well. He got in trouble from mom yesterday because she found some more chocolate he hid behind the desk in her office, so he got yelled at. Why would he want chocolate when he always gets the good stuff mom has, like bones and stuff? I don't even get those because I can't chew them, but if I did get them I sure wouldn't be eating any icky stuff like chocolate. Mom said next time she gets a dog she's getting something called insurance. I don't know what exactly that is, but mom made it sound like a good thing. If you can eat it, I wish she'd get it now.
It's been kind of cold outside, so mom put my sweater on me today. It was one of the sweaters that Grandma Carole gave to me last year. I tried to take it off, but it got stuck. Mom couldn't find the camera, but she said it looked like I had a skirt on. Don't girls wear skirts? I think I should be insulted, being the manly dog I am, but I'm not sure.
We found a great big spider outside yesterday. I would have eaten it, but mom actually screamed and grabbed me before I could get it. I guess she doesn't like spiders much. Maybe next time. We had some company at our house and they took it home with them in a jar. I wonder if they're going to eat it? Probably not. Humans don't eat bugs much.
Well, I hear mom coming back, so I better get off the computer. We can't have any more excitement around here. Mom says she had enough, so I don't want her to know I can type!
Love,
Chuck
Then, Ruger ate a LOT of chocolate and had to go to the vet! Boy was mom upset. At first I thought it was because the chocolate was gone, but no, she was worried about Ruger. He ate a whole bunch of chocolate that was almost all cocoa, I guess that stuff is BAD for dogs. First she tried to make Ruger throw up by giving him some yucky stuff to drink, but Ruger wouldn't throw up. Them mom had to take him to the vet and THEY had to make him throw up. He came home later that night, but he wasn't feeling very well. He got in trouble from mom yesterday because she found some more chocolate he hid behind the desk in her office, so he got yelled at. Why would he want chocolate when he always gets the good stuff mom has, like bones and stuff? I don't even get those because I can't chew them, but if I did get them I sure wouldn't be eating any icky stuff like chocolate. Mom said next time she gets a dog she's getting something called insurance. I don't know what exactly that is, but mom made it sound like a good thing. If you can eat it, I wish she'd get it now.
It's been kind of cold outside, so mom put my sweater on me today. It was one of the sweaters that Grandma Carole gave to me last year. I tried to take it off, but it got stuck. Mom couldn't find the camera, but she said it looked like I had a skirt on. Don't girls wear skirts? I think I should be insulted, being the manly dog I am, but I'm not sure.
We found a great big spider outside yesterday. I would have eaten it, but mom actually screamed and grabbed me before I could get it. I guess she doesn't like spiders much. Maybe next time. We had some company at our house and they took it home with them in a jar. I wonder if they're going to eat it? Probably not. Humans don't eat bugs much.
Well, I hear mom coming back, so I better get off the computer. We can't have any more excitement around here. Mom says she had enough, so I don't want her to know I can type!
Love,
Chuck
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I've been a resident of Omaha for a year. Can I vote now?
I've been living with mom and dad for a whole year now! They thought I was sick when they brought me home and that I wouldn't be here long. Silly them! Guess I fooled them all, didn't I?
Mom had people over to our house for dinner yesterday and baked me a cake and everything. She said it was the end of summer and we should all have a cookout, but I know that really the celebration was for me... Because I'm special. She tells me that all the time. I bet she just didn't want to tell everyone that it was for me because then the other dogs would be jealous and mom would be baking cakes all the time for their birthdays and to celebrate the day they came to live with her and dad. It would just get to be too much, so she tells everyone it's the end of summer even though I know it's really for me.
My uncle, Tucker the Cat, has been sick again. He has congestive heart failure and grandma and grandpa have to give him some kind of yucky medicine in the morning and at night. Poor Tucker. Mom says that I have it too, but I don't feel sick, so I don't think we have the same thing at all. Besides, mom and dad don't have to shoot medicine in the side of my mouth. Mom hides stuff in my food sometimes though, but I don't spit it out. I'm not BAD like other dogs I know... Don't worry Buttercup, I won't tell mom that you spit that pill out on the carpet in the living room yesterday. She won't hear it from me. Huh uh. No way and I a tattletale...
Grandma Judy sent me a nice warm heating pad that mom and dad put in my bed and it makes me so warm! I don't have to curl up in a little ball to be warm and I sleep really, really good with it. But, I think grandma told mom to put my water up at night because they don't put it in my bedroom with me anymore. I never have to get up and go pee during the night anymore, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm so warm I sleep really good, or because mom doesn't give me my water. I know mom's glad she doesn't have to scrub the floor every day!
Grandma and Grandpa S gave me a new octopus for my birthday. It squeaks and squeaks and squeaks. I guess maybe it squeaks too much 'cause mom put it on the piano last night. She gave it back to me today though. I guess she never found the Kong though. I'm kind of sorry she hasn't found it because I can't remember where I put it!
I'm going to post some pictures that mom took the other day. I don't want anybody to be upset or anything about my back. Really it doesn't hurt. Even where there's scabs, mom and dad put lotion and medicine on them, so they don't hurt, so don't worry about how it looks okay?
I'm starting to lose some hair on my head now. Mom says I'll look like my grandpa Art if that happens. Uh oh.
Gotta get those pictures posted. I hope you like them.
Chuck
Mom had people over to our house for dinner yesterday and baked me a cake and everything. She said it was the end of summer and we should all have a cookout, but I know that really the celebration was for me... Because I'm special. She tells me that all the time. I bet she just didn't want to tell everyone that it was for me because then the other dogs would be jealous and mom would be baking cakes all the time for their birthdays and to celebrate the day they came to live with her and dad. It would just get to be too much, so she tells everyone it's the end of summer even though I know it's really for me.
My uncle, Tucker the Cat, has been sick again. He has congestive heart failure and grandma and grandpa have to give him some kind of yucky medicine in the morning and at night. Poor Tucker. Mom says that I have it too, but I don't feel sick, so I don't think we have the same thing at all. Besides, mom and dad don't have to shoot medicine in the side of my mouth. Mom hides stuff in my food sometimes though, but I don't spit it out. I'm not BAD like other dogs I know... Don't worry Buttercup, I won't tell mom that you spit that pill out on the carpet in the living room yesterday. She won't hear it from me. Huh uh. No way and I a tattletale...
Grandma Judy sent me a nice warm heating pad that mom and dad put in my bed and it makes me so warm! I don't have to curl up in a little ball to be warm and I sleep really, really good with it. But, I think grandma told mom to put my water up at night because they don't put it in my bedroom with me anymore. I never have to get up and go pee during the night anymore, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm so warm I sleep really good, or because mom doesn't give me my water. I know mom's glad she doesn't have to scrub the floor every day!
Grandma and Grandpa S gave me a new octopus for my birthday. It squeaks and squeaks and squeaks. I guess maybe it squeaks too much 'cause mom put it on the piano last night. She gave it back to me today though. I guess she never found the Kong though. I'm kind of sorry she hasn't found it because I can't remember where I put it!
I'm going to post some pictures that mom took the other day. I don't want anybody to be upset or anything about my back. Really it doesn't hurt. Even where there's scabs, mom and dad put lotion and medicine on them, so they don't hurt, so don't worry about how it looks okay?
I'm starting to lose some hair on my head now. Mom says I'll look like my grandpa Art if that happens. Uh oh.
Gotta get those pictures posted. I hope you like them.
Chuck
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Dog days of August
Hey, remember me? I can't believe this month has gone by so fast and I haven't had a chance to get to the computer. It was so hot this month, I spent a lot of time just laying around trying to get cool, so I haven't felt much like typing. :-) There really hasn't been too much going on either. Just eating, sleeping, and spending a little time outside. I've been feeling really, really tired lately too, so I've been sleeping a lot.
Life is about as good as it gets I think. Every night when mom has to go to work I go downstairs with dad and watch TV. He spends a lot of time with just me, petting me and putting lotion on my back. What else could a guy ask for? My back was getting pretty sore earlier this month so mom talked to Dr. Jesske and got some MORE pills for me to take. I really don't care though, if I'm really lucky dad gives them to me in a hot dog. If I'm not so lucky he gives them to me in a little chunk of my regular food, but either way I get to eat more, right? I also got a prescription for prednisone, so mom gets to take her medicine back. She doesn't really care though because her doctor said she doesnt have to take it for very much longer. Mom thinks maybe she'll lose weight if she doesn't take it anymore. I hope I don't lose any weight when I quit taking it, otherwise I'd blow away in a strong wind! A kite that pees mom says and then she laughs. Hmph. I don't think it's very funny.
My sister Buttercup is pretty sick tonight. Her neck is hurting her really bad. Mom was crying about it earlier, but dad says not to worry until they go to the vet tomorrow. I guess mom and dad had another fur baby, Schnapps, and he went to the Rainbow Bridge when his back started hurting him, so mom is really worried. I didn't know what to do to make her happy tonight. I peed in the hallway. That's didn't make her happy, but at least it took her mind off of Buttercup for a minute or two. Hey, give me some credit for trying! When mom was trying to get Buttercup to drink some water she took this thing called a heating pad off of Buttercup's back and put it on the floor, so, being the curious guy that I am I decided to lay down on it. Wowser! It was nice and warm! I wish I could have one of those things in my bed. Mom made me get off of it though so she could put it back on Buttercup. I hope she gets me one!
Next week is going to be special for me. I've been living with mom and dad for a whole year! Isn't that great? I can't believe it's been a whole year since Grandma Judy took me in and put me on Petfinder so mom and dad could find me. I've been so lucky! I can't decide what the best part is though, my own bed, ALL the toys, having good friends like Lucy in New York and her human Melissa; Sasha, Roxie and Cosmo in Minnesota and their human Kate; Grandma Judy; all my great friends in Missouri; my own toys; all the cool dogs on Lovedachs; my sisters and brother; my human sister and brother; good dog food; all the toys, my own blanket; applesauce; bananas; my furry cousins, Medusa and Shorty; all my toys; grandma and grandpa Sieborg; grandpa Art; all my toys; going outside and just laying in the sun; chasing the neighbor kids; Mr. Tucker my cat cousin... And did I mention ALL THE TOYS? I wonder if mom will bake me another cake? Ooooooo with ice cream. I love ice cream too...
Well, I think mom is up to check on Buttercup so I better sneak back to my OWN blanket and go back to sleep. Zzzzzzzzzzz
Love ya! Chuck
Life is about as good as it gets I think. Every night when mom has to go to work I go downstairs with dad and watch TV. He spends a lot of time with just me, petting me and putting lotion on my back. What else could a guy ask for? My back was getting pretty sore earlier this month so mom talked to Dr. Jesske and got some MORE pills for me to take. I really don't care though, if I'm really lucky dad gives them to me in a hot dog. If I'm not so lucky he gives them to me in a little chunk of my regular food, but either way I get to eat more, right? I also got a prescription for prednisone, so mom gets to take her medicine back. She doesn't really care though because her doctor said she doesnt have to take it for very much longer. Mom thinks maybe she'll lose weight if she doesn't take it anymore. I hope I don't lose any weight when I quit taking it, otherwise I'd blow away in a strong wind! A kite that pees mom says and then she laughs. Hmph. I don't think it's very funny.
My sister Buttercup is pretty sick tonight. Her neck is hurting her really bad. Mom was crying about it earlier, but dad says not to worry until they go to the vet tomorrow. I guess mom and dad had another fur baby, Schnapps, and he went to the Rainbow Bridge when his back started hurting him, so mom is really worried. I didn't know what to do to make her happy tonight. I peed in the hallway. That's didn't make her happy, but at least it took her mind off of Buttercup for a minute or two. Hey, give me some credit for trying! When mom was trying to get Buttercup to drink some water she took this thing called a heating pad off of Buttercup's back and put it on the floor, so, being the curious guy that I am I decided to lay down on it. Wowser! It was nice and warm! I wish I could have one of those things in my bed. Mom made me get off of it though so she could put it back on Buttercup. I hope she gets me one!
Next week is going to be special for me. I've been living with mom and dad for a whole year! Isn't that great? I can't believe it's been a whole year since Grandma Judy took me in and put me on Petfinder so mom and dad could find me. I've been so lucky! I can't decide what the best part is though, my own bed, ALL the toys, having good friends like Lucy in New York and her human Melissa; Sasha, Roxie and Cosmo in Minnesota and their human Kate; Grandma Judy; all my great friends in Missouri; my own toys; all the cool dogs on Lovedachs; my sisters and brother; my human sister and brother; good dog food; all the toys, my own blanket; applesauce; bananas; my furry cousins, Medusa and Shorty; all my toys; grandma and grandpa Sieborg; grandpa Art; all my toys; going outside and just laying in the sun; chasing the neighbor kids; Mr. Tucker my cat cousin... And did I mention ALL THE TOYS? I wonder if mom will bake me another cake? Ooooooo with ice cream. I love ice cream too...
Well, I think mom is up to check on Buttercup so I better sneak back to my OWN blanket and go back to sleep. Zzzzzzzzzzz
Love ya! Chuck
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Hey, I'm Back
Well, really I didn't go anywhere, but I've been so busy (sleeping) that I haven't gotten around to using the computer. The weather here has been really, really hot. I don't want to go outside, but I don't want to get scolded for going potty on the carpet either, what's a dog to do? I spend most of the day laying on mom's lap while she watches TV or reads, which is fine with me, but the other guys get, you know, jealous or something. Heee hee.
My human brother Matt came over yesterday and I let him give me some banana. He doesn't live here with us and when I first met him he scared me a little. He's really, really tall, even when he stands by mom he's really, really tall, so he makes me feel very, very small. I wasn't sure I liked him for a while. Every time he would come over I wouldn't let him get close to mom, I would growl and show all of my teeth, but he would just laugh. He never hurt me so and today he gave me a whole banana (well, little pieces at a time) so I guess he's okay. I let him pet me today for a long time, but when he tried to pick me up I screamed for mom! I don't want to be that high in the air!
I haven't been to the vet in a long time! When mom told grandma that today she said, "Knock on wood". I'm not sure what that means, but maybe you better knock on some wood, just in case. A few weeks ago mom went to get me some food, but they didn't have the good soft stuff in the can, so she bought some of that dry stuff. Yuck. I wouldn't eat it. How can mom and dad expect me to eat the old dry stuff when I'm used to the good soft stuff. It smells so much better and the taste... Yum! After a couple days of me not eating very much (except for bananas and applesauce) mom and dad finally got the idea and went back to the vet and got me some REAL food. I guess they aren't trained as well as I thought, since it took them 2 whole days. I better work on that some more.
I have a couple more sores on my back, but dad is putting medicine on them every night. I don't like the stuff, it doesn't taste very good. The sores don't really hurt a lot, except when dad touches them so I cry and stuff and then he feels sorry for me. Sometimes I try to lick them when I think mom and dad aren't looking, but they always catch me. How do they do that? Mom always says, "Charlie stop licking yourself like that?" Well, geez, how am I supposed to lick myself anyway? I heard mom tell dad today that they were looking better and I haven't been licking, so maybe she knows what she's talking about...
All the other guys got their nails cut tonight. Haha! I only have 2 nails and they're short most of the time. Sometimes Dr. Jesske cuts them for me. It doesn't hurt, but you wouldn't know that the way the other dogs carry on. Mom has to hold them while dad cuts their nails and Ruger runs and hides as soon as they get done. Even I'm not that big of a baby. Mom said one time Heidi had her nails cut at Dr. Jesske's office and she cried and screamed so loud they had to come get mom to hold her. What a BABY! I guess that's a girl for you.
Well, I think maybe it's going to rain because it started to thunder a little while ago. I hope it rains, we haven't had any good mud or stinky things to roll in for awhile and rain always helps that. Maybe it won't be so hot outside either. I can't even lay down outside by mom's chair because it's too hot. I don't like it when it's like this. It burns my feet on the cement.
Well, I better go. Thank you to all my friends who read my blog. I didn't forget about you, I've just been a lazy dog. I love you!
Chuck
My human brother Matt came over yesterday and I let him give me some banana. He doesn't live here with us and when I first met him he scared me a little. He's really, really tall, even when he stands by mom he's really, really tall, so he makes me feel very, very small. I wasn't sure I liked him for a while. Every time he would come over I wouldn't let him get close to mom, I would growl and show all of my teeth, but he would just laugh. He never hurt me so and today he gave me a whole banana (well, little pieces at a time) so I guess he's okay. I let him pet me today for a long time, but when he tried to pick me up I screamed for mom! I don't want to be that high in the air!
I haven't been to the vet in a long time! When mom told grandma that today she said, "Knock on wood". I'm not sure what that means, but maybe you better knock on some wood, just in case. A few weeks ago mom went to get me some food, but they didn't have the good soft stuff in the can, so she bought some of that dry stuff. Yuck. I wouldn't eat it. How can mom and dad expect me to eat the old dry stuff when I'm used to the good soft stuff. It smells so much better and the taste... Yum! After a couple days of me not eating very much (except for bananas and applesauce) mom and dad finally got the idea and went back to the vet and got me some REAL food. I guess they aren't trained as well as I thought, since it took them 2 whole days. I better work on that some more.
I have a couple more sores on my back, but dad is putting medicine on them every night. I don't like the stuff, it doesn't taste very good. The sores don't really hurt a lot, except when dad touches them so I cry and stuff and then he feels sorry for me. Sometimes I try to lick them when I think mom and dad aren't looking, but they always catch me. How do they do that? Mom always says, "Charlie stop licking yourself like that?" Well, geez, how am I supposed to lick myself anyway? I heard mom tell dad today that they were looking better and I haven't been licking, so maybe she knows what she's talking about...
All the other guys got their nails cut tonight. Haha! I only have 2 nails and they're short most of the time. Sometimes Dr. Jesske cuts them for me. It doesn't hurt, but you wouldn't know that the way the other dogs carry on. Mom has to hold them while dad cuts their nails and Ruger runs and hides as soon as they get done. Even I'm not that big of a baby. Mom said one time Heidi had her nails cut at Dr. Jesske's office and she cried and screamed so loud they had to come get mom to hold her. What a BABY! I guess that's a girl for you.
Well, I think maybe it's going to rain because it started to thunder a little while ago. I hope it rains, we haven't had any good mud or stinky things to roll in for awhile and rain always helps that. Maybe it won't be so hot outside either. I can't even lay down outside by mom's chair because it's too hot. I don't like it when it's like this. It burns my feet on the cement.
Well, I better go. Thank you to all my friends who read my blog. I didn't forget about you, I've just been a lazy dog. I love you!
Chuck
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
My pictures
I put some new pictures up from my birthday. I really had a lot of fun. I found a new good thing - strawberry ice cream! Wow! Where have they been hiding that all my life? Mom didn't let me have very much, but it was the best thing I ever ate. She won't let me have any more though, even though it didn't make me itch or anything. Oh well. Grandma and Grandpa came over again and all the people got to eat cake with their ice cream. Doesn't seem fair to me that I didn't even get a piece of my own cake. Does that seem fair to you? Humph. Mom baked a cake especially for me. I put a picture of it down below. Mom thought it didn't look very good, but I thought it was great - it was my very own doghouse! I liked it. Mom is taking a cake decorating class, so I think we're probably going to have lots of cake around the house. I bet I won't get any either. I think mom was going to e-mail our friend Kate in Minnesota to get some good recipes for dog treats. Maybe she'll have something that I can eat too. I remember at Christmas she made some very good peanut butter things, but I don't think I can eat them now.
It's been really nice here, mom had the windows open and I was outside a lot. Then it rained and I didn't like that so much. Now it's hot again and the windows aren't open. I don't like that as much, there's nothing to smell but old inside smells. You don't know how boring it is to be a dog and live inside the house! Mom's glad when I don't like to go out very much, she doesn't want to have to take a bird away from me. All the baby birds are gone now, so mostly I just bark at the ones that come to eat the food that dad puts out for them. Silly things. Dad puts all the bird food in a nice place for them to eat it and they sit in it and flap their wings and get it all over the deck. It doesn't even taste that good. I like to try and eat the corn that mom puts out for the squirrels, but it's hard and I can't chew it. Mom says I'm not supposed to eat it anyway and always takes it away from me.
I still have a sore on my back. You can see it in the picture of dad and me. It just won't go away. Dad puts some medicine on it every night and mom keeps putting lotion on my back, but it's still kind of dry and itchy. I love it when people rub my back - it feels so good! I like the lotion too 'cept it makes me smell like mom! Maybe she can find some lotion that smells like dad. I'm no sissy.
Well, enjoy my pictures. I'll be back with more adventures when I can.
Love,
Charlie
It's been really nice here, mom had the windows open and I was outside a lot. Then it rained and I didn't like that so much. Now it's hot again and the windows aren't open. I don't like that as much, there's nothing to smell but old inside smells. You don't know how boring it is to be a dog and live inside the house! Mom's glad when I don't like to go out very much, she doesn't want to have to take a bird away from me. All the baby birds are gone now, so mostly I just bark at the ones that come to eat the food that dad puts out for them. Silly things. Dad puts all the bird food in a nice place for them to eat it and they sit in it and flap their wings and get it all over the deck. It doesn't even taste that good. I like to try and eat the corn that mom puts out for the squirrels, but it's hard and I can't chew it. Mom says I'm not supposed to eat it anyway and always takes it away from me.
I still have a sore on my back. You can see it in the picture of dad and me. It just won't go away. Dad puts some medicine on it every night and mom keeps putting lotion on my back, but it's still kind of dry and itchy. I love it when people rub my back - it feels so good! I like the lotion too 'cept it makes me smell like mom! Maybe she can find some lotion that smells like dad. I'm no sissy.
Well, enjoy my pictures. I'll be back with more adventures when I can.
Love,
Charlie
Friday, July 07, 2006
I'm having a birthday party
I'm so excited! My mom is baking a cake and everything! I don't think I get any of the cake, but I bet I get some kind of other treat! Maybe a whole baked potato. Maybe some more of my rabbit and potato! WOW! I'm so excited.
My real birthday was July 5, but mom had a cake decorating class that night, so we had to wait until tonight, but my grandma and grandpa Sieborg came over and gave me presents anyway. I got a whole bag of potatoes (yum) and a squeaky monkey. I love my monkey. Heidi tried to take it away from me, but I growled really loud at her and she ran away and let me have it. Smart girl, that sister of mine! I'm sure mom will have some more pictures of me tomorrow, so I'll be sure and put them here on my blog.
It's sure been noisy around here! Mom said it was the 4th of July, all I know about that is it's the day before my birthday. Maybe they were making all that noise for ME. If they were, I hope mom tells them I didn't like it, so they don't do it again. I stayed in the basement with dad and watched movies, it was scary going outside. Heidi didn't like the noise either, she hid under a blanket by mom, but silly Buttercup would bark and bark at the noise. Every time there was a big BOOM Buttercup would start barking. Mom said she didn't know which was worse. I don't know if Ruger was scared or not, he was under the sofa like he always is. I don't think he's scared all the time. Well, I don't know, he's kind of a chicken, maybe he is... It doesn't matter I'm brave enough for both of us.
Well, I better go stand around the kitchen while mom frosts my cake. You never know when she's going to drop something good.
My real birthday was July 5, but mom had a cake decorating class that night, so we had to wait until tonight, but my grandma and grandpa Sieborg came over and gave me presents anyway. I got a whole bag of potatoes (yum) and a squeaky monkey. I love my monkey. Heidi tried to take it away from me, but I growled really loud at her and she ran away and let me have it. Smart girl, that sister of mine! I'm sure mom will have some more pictures of me tomorrow, so I'll be sure and put them here on my blog.
It's sure been noisy around here! Mom said it was the 4th of July, all I know about that is it's the day before my birthday. Maybe they were making all that noise for ME. If they were, I hope mom tells them I didn't like it, so they don't do it again. I stayed in the basement with dad and watched movies, it was scary going outside. Heidi didn't like the noise either, she hid under a blanket by mom, but silly Buttercup would bark and bark at the noise. Every time there was a big BOOM Buttercup would start barking. Mom said she didn't know which was worse. I don't know if Ruger was scared or not, he was under the sofa like he always is. I don't think he's scared all the time. Well, I don't know, he's kind of a chicken, maybe he is... It doesn't matter I'm brave enough for both of us.
Well, I better go stand around the kitchen while mom frosts my cake. You never know when she's going to drop something good.
Monday, June 26, 2006
THE BEST NEWS EVER!!!
I'm adopted! I'm not a foster dog anymore! I know mom and dad are really excited too! I'll miss being part of Grandma Judy's foster family, but I really belong to someone now. For the first time EVER I belong to someone who loves me! Mom and dad are really excited too! Woo hoo! Mom and dad are going to get some pictures of all of us together so we can put a brand new picture up - and send one to Grandma Judy of course, 'cuz she'll always be my special grandma! Mom gets paid today so she says we're going to PetSmart, just the 2 of us, and I get a new squeaky toy! That's good 'cuz I've broken all the squeakers on all the other toys. Even Ruger has been hiding his favorite duck from me, it has one squeaker left - I know 'cuz he squeaks it sometimes when he has it in bed with him and I can't get to it!
Isn't that the best news? I'm so happy I'm doing the doxie happy dance!
Isn't that the best news? I'm so happy I'm doing the doxie happy dance!
Friday, June 16, 2006
Please read this...
This is pretty much the story of my life until someone saved me from the puppy mill and then grandma got me, and from there I came to live with mom and dad. Please rememeber there are a lot more dogs just like me in places like these. These are evil, wicked places where dogs have no fun and we're always afraid.
Born In A Missouri Puppy MillBy Brenda Shoss 6/14/06
ht tp://www.KinshipCircle.orgShe waddles over, a puffy "hair-do" perched upon stubby legs. The four-pound pup nestles against my chest and gives me the goofy sideways glance. I'm a goner. I'll call her Mandy.
I first laid eyes upon this irresistible Lhasa Apso at Flawdogs Adoption, a rescue dedicated to "little puppy mill leftovers" about 45 minutes southwest of St. Louis in Morse Mill, Missouri.
There are no kennels or cages at Flawdogs. A tree-lined bridge leads to a canine Shangri-La where Silky Terriers, Corgis, Chihuahuas and Yorkies frolic amid pools and sunbathing decks in outdoor runs across eight yards. Inside, Shih Tzus, Poodles, Bichon Frises, and Dachshunds tumble over toys and each other. It's Camp Cute, with an army of wide-eyed fluffballs auditioning to steal your heart.
But Mandy's doubtful peer recalls another setting. During her first week home, direct eye contact threatens her. Reaching han ds remind her of harsh hands that once threw her from cage to cage. She pauses before open doors, remembering other dogs smashed in gates when they tried to flee. She freezes on a leash. My gentle tug reminds her of a yank by the head or neck.
Love and a loose leash soon erase Mandy's memories of birth inside a Missouri puppy mill. Yet though Flawdogs had tested and vaccinated her for ailments commonly spread inside breeding mills, Mandy grows anorexic and lethargic. She is treated for coccidia and giardia parasites. Her back legs cave in as she walks. An x-ray reveals the head of femur bone is missing in her left leg. The same bone in her right leg is porous, ragged and dying.
Still, Mandy is one lucky dog. Flawdogs founder Sally Ives, former director of Open Door Animal Sanctuary in House Springs, MO, talks about wire hair terriers salvaged from a puppy mill in northern Missouri. One dog's entire nasal channel was exposed where his face had been torn away in a fight. A Dachshund came with third degree heating pad burns over 60% of her tiny body.
"It's a miracle that dog lived," Ives says. "Those are the heartwarming cases -- the ones who are supposed to die, but insist on living instead."
Puppy mills are profit-driven enterprises that typically fail to provide adequate veterinary care, diet, exercise or shelter. Large sites house up to 1,000 dogs in rusted chicken wire cages heaped three or four tiers high. Urine and feces seep into lower cages. Dogs at the top swelter in the summer and freeze in the winter. Smaller facilities may board 50 or more dogs in squalid kennel runs.
The mass breeder's bottom line is low overhead and high return. So bulk food purchases are often comprised of sweepings from the food manufacturer's floor. Dogs are so nutrition deprived, their teeth rot as young as one or two years of age. Sometimes their jaws di ssolve. Others lose their front teeth from gnawing on the metal bars that contain them.
There are approximately 5,000 mill-style outfits nationwide. Cruelty investigators have uncovered parasite-infested dogs with oozing eyes, ear infections, and fur so matted it forms a cocoon over sores. Mange can transform a puppy's skin into a blanket of red scabs. Dogs in congested quarters easily spread worms, upper respiratory infections, coccidia, giardia, and deadly parvovirus and distemper.
Dogs are found with gangrenous skin where collars became embedded in flesh. Others are balding, blind, emaciated. Some long-term mill dogs have been debarked by shoving a steel rod down their throats to mutilate vocal cords.
Breeding factories function primarily in Missouri, Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Pennsylvania. Missouri leads the way, with an estimated $40 million per year in puppy mill profits.
Ives' relationship with mill managers, mostly women, is unique. On 24-hour call, she awaits their invitation to collect the rejects slated for euthanasia. "They see themselves as professional breeders. I must appear positive and flattering. The few times I've leaked a look of horror, I've never been invited back. My commitment is to any dog I can get out.
"Federally licensed Class A breeders form contractual agreements with brokers, or Class B dealers, who purchase mill pups for resale to some 3,500 U.S. pet outlets. Brokers seek flawless 8-week-old puppies to pile into crates for shipment by truck or plane. According to the Companion Animal Protection Society, a half-million puppies pass from mill to broker to pet shop in the U.S. and Canada every year.
A dog who misses a broker's weekly pickup from the mill may be deemed "too old" by the next collection day and consequently killed. If a broker reaches his sales quota in a region, he has nowhere else to market puppies. In most cases, these leftovers are healthy young animals.A broker's criterion is based on what the public will pay for. "We've saved a lot of Bichon and Maltese pups who have biscuit-colored ears. They won't accept biscuit on a white dog, or any color considered inconsistent, even an odd-colored eye," Ives explains.
Ives rescues any animal a mill will release: Too small. Too large. Undescended testicles. Umbilical hernias. A sparse coat. A short tail.
"How do you pick which ones to save and which ones to pass a death sentence on?" she asks. "They ride quietly in our crowded van. We hold as many in our laps as we can to start the socialization."Mandy was a disposable mill dog. Her twisted back legs were likely injured in a cage jam-packed with puppies. Dogs suffer abscessed feet, hyperflexion, loss of limbs or bones, and deformed or broken legs from trauma inside overcrowded wire encl osures.Mills usually cull puppies with leg defects. Ives acquires many Italian Greyhounds dismissed for luxating patellas. In fact, their wobbly kneecaps arise from insufficient muscle growth. After days of open space and nutritious food, they "run around like lunatics," she says. The "flaw" in older dogs is their inability to produce a viable litter of six or more pups. Mills breed females from six months of age to every heat cycle thereafter. When too worn to turn a profit, dogs as young as two to five years are shot or clubbed in the head. Other throwaways are sold to research laboratories or simply discarded.
Brandylyn, a 17-year-old "chocolate" poodle, was five pounds and pregnant when Ives retrieved her from a mill. Three baths later, Brandylyn emerged as a white dog. "She had been sold, auctioned, and traded so many times, they lost track of her color," Ives says. "Her babies were stillborn."One overbred Yorkshire Terrier arrived with 12 mammary tumors. Ives compares their insides to "cole slaw, filled with adhesions, cysts, and scar tissue. Some are boiling with pyometra (an infection of the female organs) that can fatally rupture.
"While breeders and brokers retain consulting veterinarians, they rarely call upon them. "Their idea of medical intervention is to stick a sick dog in a garage, basement, or barn," Ives claims.Shoddy breeding methods predispose dogs to chronic infirmities such as hip dysplasia, dislocating kneecaps, seizures, eye lesions, liver and heart disease, and autoimmune disorders.
In California, a state financed study revealed almost half of pet store pups were sick or harboring diseases.The Animal, Plant and Health Inspection Service (APHIS) arm of the USDA regulates animal industries. This financially strapped agency employs a relative handful of inspectors to monitor thousands of Class A licensees (breeders), Class B licensees (brokers), Class C licensees (exhibitors), handlers, and biomedical researchers.
Present law categorizes high volume breeders who sell directly to the public as "pet stores, and exempts them from U.S. Animal Welfare Act guidelines. Thus, a breeder who sells animals via a middleman broker, the internet or newspaper ads functions with minimal oversight. Kittens, puppies and other companion animals easily cross state borders with no information about the decrepit surroundings in which they were raised. This loophole undermines a key intent of the AWA and deceives consumers, who are conned into spending huge fees on animals with health complications. When I ask Ives about her role in a system clogged with lax laws, she pauses and then quietly clarifies her mission: "I am their caretaker. I get to touch their lives for a little while and send them bouncing into people's arms. I am upstairs right now, looking over my little dogs in their playhouses, just hanging out the windows. This is grand. I am way too happy.
"Somehow, Ives finds homes for even the most traumatized animals. One family traveled 300 miles to adopt Trina, a blind dog with detached retinas. Mufasa's family adores him, despite undernourishment that left him permanently hairless over most of his body. Tick, an underweight Dachshund who couldn't sustain his own body temperature, is photographed weeks later amid a swirl of shredded paper towels. Once they can wreak puppy havoc, Ives knows they are okay.
In closing I mention to Ives that although I currently have two cats and two dogs, I really want to rescue a beagle. "If I can talk my husband into more animals... Do you get beagles?""Funny you should ask," she drawls. Ives knows I'm already hooked, but offers this advice: "You need to break your husband in gradually."Honey , how do you feel about beagle pups?"
Flawed Dogs
a poem by Berkley Breathed
So in this world of the simple and odd,
the bent and the pain,
the unbalanced body,
the imperfect people and differently pawed,
some live without love...
THAT'S how they're flawed.
WHAT YOU CAN DO1. Boycott pet stores that buy and sell companion animals. Without pet store sales, mass pet producers would be squeezed out of business. Meet and fall in love with your own puppy mill rescue at Flawdogs! Out-of-state adoptions welcome. View animals online and visit Flawdogs (by appointment): Flawdogs Adoption ph: 636-274-2511; email: gnsives@aol.com web: http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/flawdogs.html
http://community.webshots.com/user/flawdogs
P.O. Box 99
Morse Mill, MO 63066
In Missouri, Flawdogs is at the Arnold Petco every Sunday from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. They are also there on the second and fourth Saturday, each month.
Born In A Missouri Puppy MillBy Brenda Shoss 6/14/06
ht tp://www.KinshipCircle.orgShe waddles over, a puffy "hair-do" perched upon stubby legs. The four-pound pup nestles against my chest and gives me the goofy sideways glance. I'm a goner. I'll call her Mandy.
I first laid eyes upon this irresistible Lhasa Apso at Flawdogs Adoption, a rescue dedicated to "little puppy mill leftovers" about 45 minutes southwest of St. Louis in Morse Mill, Missouri.
There are no kennels or cages at Flawdogs. A tree-lined bridge leads to a canine Shangri-La where Silky Terriers, Corgis, Chihuahuas and Yorkies frolic amid pools and sunbathing decks in outdoor runs across eight yards. Inside, Shih Tzus, Poodles, Bichon Frises, and Dachshunds tumble over toys and each other. It's Camp Cute, with an army of wide-eyed fluffballs auditioning to steal your heart.
But Mandy's doubtful peer recalls another setting. During her first week home, direct eye contact threatens her. Reaching han ds remind her of harsh hands that once threw her from cage to cage. She pauses before open doors, remembering other dogs smashed in gates when they tried to flee. She freezes on a leash. My gentle tug reminds her of a yank by the head or neck.
Love and a loose leash soon erase Mandy's memories of birth inside a Missouri puppy mill. Yet though Flawdogs had tested and vaccinated her for ailments commonly spread inside breeding mills, Mandy grows anorexic and lethargic. She is treated for coccidia and giardia parasites. Her back legs cave in as she walks. An x-ray reveals the head of femur bone is missing in her left leg. The same bone in her right leg is porous, ragged and dying.
Still, Mandy is one lucky dog. Flawdogs founder Sally Ives, former director of Open Door Animal Sanctuary in House Springs, MO, talks about wire hair terriers salvaged from a puppy mill in northern Missouri. One dog's entire nasal channel was exposed where his face had been torn away in a fight. A Dachshund came with third degree heating pad burns over 60% of her tiny body.
"It's a miracle that dog lived," Ives says. "Those are the heartwarming cases -- the ones who are supposed to die, but insist on living instead."
Puppy mills are profit-driven enterprises that typically fail to provide adequate veterinary care, diet, exercise or shelter. Large sites house up to 1,000 dogs in rusted chicken wire cages heaped three or four tiers high. Urine and feces seep into lower cages. Dogs at the top swelter in the summer and freeze in the winter. Smaller facilities may board 50 or more dogs in squalid kennel runs.
The mass breeder's bottom line is low overhead and high return. So bulk food purchases are often comprised of sweepings from the food manufacturer's floor. Dogs are so nutrition deprived, their teeth rot as young as one or two years of age. Sometimes their jaws di ssolve. Others lose their front teeth from gnawing on the metal bars that contain them.
There are approximately 5,000 mill-style outfits nationwide. Cruelty investigators have uncovered parasite-infested dogs with oozing eyes, ear infections, and fur so matted it forms a cocoon over sores. Mange can transform a puppy's skin into a blanket of red scabs. Dogs in congested quarters easily spread worms, upper respiratory infections, coccidia, giardia, and deadly parvovirus and distemper.
Dogs are found with gangrenous skin where collars became embedded in flesh. Others are balding, blind, emaciated. Some long-term mill dogs have been debarked by shoving a steel rod down their throats to mutilate vocal cords.
Breeding factories function primarily in Missouri, Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Pennsylvania. Missouri leads the way, with an estimated $40 million per year in puppy mill profits.
Ives' relationship with mill managers, mostly women, is unique. On 24-hour call, she awaits their invitation to collect the rejects slated for euthanasia. "They see themselves as professional breeders. I must appear positive and flattering. The few times I've leaked a look of horror, I've never been invited back. My commitment is to any dog I can get out.
"Federally licensed Class A breeders form contractual agreements with brokers, or Class B dealers, who purchase mill pups for resale to some 3,500 U.S. pet outlets. Brokers seek flawless 8-week-old puppies to pile into crates for shipment by truck or plane. According to the Companion Animal Protection Society, a half-million puppies pass from mill to broker to pet shop in the U.S. and Canada every year.
A dog who misses a broker's weekly pickup from the mill may be deemed "too old" by the next collection day and consequently killed. If a broker reaches his sales quota in a region, he has nowhere else to market puppies. In most cases, these leftovers are healthy young animals.A broker's criterion is based on what the public will pay for. "We've saved a lot of Bichon and Maltese pups who have biscuit-colored ears. They won't accept biscuit on a white dog, or any color considered inconsistent, even an odd-colored eye," Ives explains.
Ives rescues any animal a mill will release: Too small. Too large. Undescended testicles. Umbilical hernias. A sparse coat. A short tail.
"How do you pick which ones to save and which ones to pass a death sentence on?" she asks. "They ride quietly in our crowded van. We hold as many in our laps as we can to start the socialization."Mandy was a disposable mill dog. Her twisted back legs were likely injured in a cage jam-packed with puppies. Dogs suffer abscessed feet, hyperflexion, loss of limbs or bones, and deformed or broken legs from trauma inside overcrowded wire encl osures.Mills usually cull puppies with leg defects. Ives acquires many Italian Greyhounds dismissed for luxating patellas. In fact, their wobbly kneecaps arise from insufficient muscle growth. After days of open space and nutritious food, they "run around like lunatics," she says. The "flaw" in older dogs is their inability to produce a viable litter of six or more pups. Mills breed females from six months of age to every heat cycle thereafter. When too worn to turn a profit, dogs as young as two to five years are shot or clubbed in the head. Other throwaways are sold to research laboratories or simply discarded.
Brandylyn, a 17-year-old "chocolate" poodle, was five pounds and pregnant when Ives retrieved her from a mill. Three baths later, Brandylyn emerged as a white dog. "She had been sold, auctioned, and traded so many times, they lost track of her color," Ives says. "Her babies were stillborn."One overbred Yorkshire Terrier arrived with 12 mammary tumors. Ives compares their insides to "cole slaw, filled with adhesions, cysts, and scar tissue. Some are boiling with pyometra (an infection of the female organs) that can fatally rupture.
"While breeders and brokers retain consulting veterinarians, they rarely call upon them. "Their idea of medical intervention is to stick a sick dog in a garage, basement, or barn," Ives claims.Shoddy breeding methods predispose dogs to chronic infirmities such as hip dysplasia, dislocating kneecaps, seizures, eye lesions, liver and heart disease, and autoimmune disorders.
In California, a state financed study revealed almost half of pet store pups were sick or harboring diseases.The Animal, Plant and Health Inspection Service (APHIS) arm of the USDA regulates animal industries. This financially strapped agency employs a relative handful of inspectors to monitor thousands of Class A licensees (breeders), Class B licensees (brokers), Class C licensees (exhibitors), handlers, and biomedical researchers.
Present law categorizes high volume breeders who sell directly to the public as "pet stores, and exempts them from U.S. Animal Welfare Act guidelines. Thus, a breeder who sells animals via a middleman broker, the internet or newspaper ads functions with minimal oversight. Kittens, puppies and other companion animals easily cross state borders with no information about the decrepit surroundings in which they were raised. This loophole undermines a key intent of the AWA and deceives consumers, who are conned into spending huge fees on animals with health complications. When I ask Ives about her role in a system clogged with lax laws, she pauses and then quietly clarifies her mission: "I am their caretaker. I get to touch their lives for a little while and send them bouncing into people's arms. I am upstairs right now, looking over my little dogs in their playhouses, just hanging out the windows. This is grand. I am way too happy.
"Somehow, Ives finds homes for even the most traumatized animals. One family traveled 300 miles to adopt Trina, a blind dog with detached retinas. Mufasa's family adores him, despite undernourishment that left him permanently hairless over most of his body. Tick, an underweight Dachshund who couldn't sustain his own body temperature, is photographed weeks later amid a swirl of shredded paper towels. Once they can wreak puppy havoc, Ives knows they are okay.
In closing I mention to Ives that although I currently have two cats and two dogs, I really want to rescue a beagle. "If I can talk my husband into more animals... Do you get beagles?""Funny you should ask," she drawls. Ives knows I'm already hooked, but offers this advice: "You need to break your husband in gradually."Honey , how do you feel about beagle pups?"
Flawed Dogs
a poem by Berkley Breathed
So in this world of the simple and odd,
the bent and the pain,
the unbalanced body,
the imperfect people and differently pawed,
some live without love...
THAT'S how they're flawed.
WHAT YOU CAN DO1. Boycott pet stores that buy and sell companion animals. Without pet store sales, mass pet producers would be squeezed out of business. Meet and fall in love with your own puppy mill rescue at Flawdogs! Out-of-state adoptions welcome. View animals online and visit Flawdogs (by appointment): Flawdogs Adoption ph: 636-274-2511; email: gnsives@aol.com web: http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/flawdogs.html
http://community.webshots.com/user/flawdogs
P.O. Box 99
Morse Mill, MO 63066
In Missouri, Flawdogs is at the Arnold Petco every Sunday from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. They are also there on the second and fourth Saturday, each month.
Well, maybe I'm not the mighty hunter after all...
I woke up the other night and there was something in my bed. I didn't like it, so I barked and barked for mom or dad to get up and help me. First dad got up and thought I wanted to go outside, since I was standing by the gate. I went outside to make him happy, but that really wasn't the problem. Then I came back inside and dad put me back in my room and left me alone with that thing in my bed again. I barked and barked again. This time dad thought I wanted some applesauce, so he got up and gave me some. (I must rememeber that if I bark in the middle of the night I might get applesauce...) Anyway, after I ate he left me alone again. I barked and barked. I think dad was trying to ignore me because I had to bark a LONG time before he finally came back. Mom told him to make sure there wasn't a bug in my bed. Well, it wasn't a bug, it was a big old poop!
Dad took it out of my bed, and flushed it down the big water bowl and then I went right back to sleep. Man, what you go through to get people to understand you!
Dad took it out of my bed, and flushed it down the big water bowl and then I went right back to sleep. Man, what you go through to get people to understand you!
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