Thursday, December 29, 2005
Merry Christmas to all!!
And to all, a good night, indeed!! Christmas was a good one this year:
It started out on December 23rd, when, after work, we wanted to walk down to the little wine store about ten blocks from our place. We were originally going to take all four dogs with us, but that didn’t work out so well since Bullet and Beau have no manners on a leash, and when we started out, they seemed to want to pull my arms off. Rob, of course, had the two “good” dogs. I gave up after about four blocks and said I was going home, and instead, Rob and I hooked the two new dogs up to training collars and took them to the store, teaching them to “heel” along the way. They learned the idea pretty quickly and by the time we got home, they were doing very well.
That evening, we went out to visit with Rob’s friends at a neighborhood restaurant near where they all grew up. Fantastic pizza.
We spent Christmas Eve with Rob’s family at his father’s house. His brother and sister-in-law have two girls at just the right age for presents and appreciating the stuff of Christmas, so it was fun. Dinner was, as usual, very good. We ate, opened presents with the kids and had a great time in general. I headed home because I was just so tired, though, instead of staying to sit around and visit with the family. Rob drove his aunt back to her residence, and then caught up with some friends at their big Christmas Eve do. I was sad to miss them, but was just too tired to drag myself around.
Christmas morning, we woke up covered in dogs and cats, and opened some presents at home by ourselves. Then, we trucked a bunch of presents to my parents’ place to open with my family. My family does Christmas in a big way, and it’s probably the only time of year we really have to spend hanging out with one another. It was fun and relaxed and a good time all around. Rob and I returned to the house to tend to the animals, inviting the Mac and Lala to join us later on. Christmas Day here was fabulous weather – warm enough for us to sit out in the yard with a fire going in the fire pit. Lala and the Mac bailed out on us, so we didn’t have to do too much cleaning, after all, and just enjoyed the afternoon. We played ball with the dogs, and worked a little with Bullet and Beau on their training collars, continuing our teaching them to “heel”. They’re doing remarkably well with “heel” considering they had no concept of the word a week ago.
We went back for Christmas dinner to my parents’ place and played a game with Lala and the Mac afterwards, and it was pretty fun, all around. Uneventful is the way I like to play it…
Christmas night, we parked the camper in the parking lot of the electronics store where we wanted to get a big screen TV. We went back at 3:30a to get in line, and managed to be about 30th in line, where we watched a movie on the camper TV and had hot chocolate and fresh coffee from the camper. You’d think that would be good enough for us to get what we came for, but it wasn’t. They had sold out of the TVs in the flyer by the time we got into the store, much to our disappointment. We shopped around, though, and found a different TV that seemed like a reasonable buy, so we bought it. We also got three DVD players – one for a dollar, which we gave to Rob’s father, one with a VCR component (since our VCR upstairs has died), and a new one for downstairs. The deals were alright this year, but nothing like they used to be. I was a little disappointed with the sale, but not with our purchases. We will be expecting delivery of a new Sony Grand Wega some time next week.
Instead of following our original plan of then going shopping at the mall after the electronics store, we went home to sleep. I was flat-out exhausted, and I think Rob was pretty tired, too, and we slept for a few more hours to make up for our early morning. We saw the Mac for lunch, and did a little running around, and somewhere in there, Rob lost his wallet and palm pilot thing. We didn’t discover that until the next day, of course… Boxing Day evening was spent watching slides at my parents’ place. My father does up a slideshow every year, and this year’s was pretty good – a lot of different slides we kids had never seen from before we were born. And of course some from when we were kids, and some from our teen years… Poor Rob – this was his first exposure to the slide night. I think he did alright, though, in spite of our being very tired towards the end of the evening!
The holidays have been great except for the wallet loss… Rob is currently replacing all of his I.D. today, which is a bit of a pain, and not how he expected to spend his days off. I, of course, am at work. I’m not working very hard, though, as you can see.
We did a home check this morning to see if a guy who had applied to adopt Bullet is any good. He sounded great on paper, and when I talked with him on the phone, he seemed like a great guy. After thinking about it, I decided that we’d take Bullet with us this morning rather than drawing out the goodbye process… The guy turned out to be a very nice guy. When he heard that I was bringing Bullet this morning to meet him, he called in and took the day off work on the chance that he’d get to keep him, so that indicated to me he really values the dog… And Bullet liked the house (I think!), and it’s well laid-out for him. We brought some toys along with us to leave with him, and a bag of food, and his leash, of course. Bullet fit right in, and explored the place and we asked and answered questions for a little while. Even though he’s in a great home and will do very well with this guy, I am still going to miss him, and cried nearly the whole way home this morning after we left him. He’s such a good dog – all wiggly and happy and sweet. I hope his new owner gives him tons of hugs, all the time, and plays with him and treats him like gold.
We’re going camping for New Year’s Eve again this year, leaving tomorrow after work and returning on Sunday. We have to take two vehicles since we have three dogs, and we won’t all fit into the truck. I’m not sad about that at all – I kind of prefer driving myself in the Jeep… it’s an emergency out if I get too cold camping or have a bad experience, and it’s good to have a second vehicle available. We’re also going to get some firewood to bring home, which I always enjoy. I love getting firewood, for some reason. I’m not too sure why, except I think it’s because we’re getting wood for no money. Sure, there are the incidental costs of gas and time, but it’s fun, and we get to spend time outside with the dogs, and we get firewood!
Beau and I are scheduled to start obedience classes next Tuesday. I’m kind of secretly hoping that if Beau turns out to be a well-behaved dog and doesn’t cause us any additional trouble, Rob will want to keep him as much as I do. I know that’s silly, because he’s already said that he only wants two dogs, but I love the Beau… and if he’s better-behaved, maybe it won’t be too much trouble to have three. And teaching him obedience will make him a better dog all around… even though I hate the idea of him being adopted… He’s doing so well on the leash with the training collar now, and I think he’s smart enough to learn quickly, I’d also like to teach him to track. He’s got a great schnozz on him…
That’s all for now. I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday and that your New Year’s Eve plans are all set and will be fun and safe.
It started out on December 23rd, when, after work, we wanted to walk down to the little wine store about ten blocks from our place. We were originally going to take all four dogs with us, but that didn’t work out so well since Bullet and Beau have no manners on a leash, and when we started out, they seemed to want to pull my arms off. Rob, of course, had the two “good” dogs. I gave up after about four blocks and said I was going home, and instead, Rob and I hooked the two new dogs up to training collars and took them to the store, teaching them to “heel” along the way. They learned the idea pretty quickly and by the time we got home, they were doing very well.
That evening, we went out to visit with Rob’s friends at a neighborhood restaurant near where they all grew up. Fantastic pizza.
We spent Christmas Eve with Rob’s family at his father’s house. His brother and sister-in-law have two girls at just the right age for presents and appreciating the stuff of Christmas, so it was fun. Dinner was, as usual, very good. We ate, opened presents with the kids and had a great time in general. I headed home because I was just so tired, though, instead of staying to sit around and visit with the family. Rob drove his aunt back to her residence, and then caught up with some friends at their big Christmas Eve do. I was sad to miss them, but was just too tired to drag myself around.
Christmas morning, we woke up covered in dogs and cats, and opened some presents at home by ourselves. Then, we trucked a bunch of presents to my parents’ place to open with my family. My family does Christmas in a big way, and it’s probably the only time of year we really have to spend hanging out with one another. It was fun and relaxed and a good time all around. Rob and I returned to the house to tend to the animals, inviting the Mac and Lala to join us later on. Christmas Day here was fabulous weather – warm enough for us to sit out in the yard with a fire going in the fire pit. Lala and the Mac bailed out on us, so we didn’t have to do too much cleaning, after all, and just enjoyed the afternoon. We played ball with the dogs, and worked a little with Bullet and Beau on their training collars, continuing our teaching them to “heel”. They’re doing remarkably well with “heel” considering they had no concept of the word a week ago.
We went back for Christmas dinner to my parents’ place and played a game with Lala and the Mac afterwards, and it was pretty fun, all around. Uneventful is the way I like to play it…
Christmas night, we parked the camper in the parking lot of the electronics store where we wanted to get a big screen TV. We went back at 3:30a to get in line, and managed to be about 30th in line, where we watched a movie on the camper TV and had hot chocolate and fresh coffee from the camper. You’d think that would be good enough for us to get what we came for, but it wasn’t. They had sold out of the TVs in the flyer by the time we got into the store, much to our disappointment. We shopped around, though, and found a different TV that seemed like a reasonable buy, so we bought it. We also got three DVD players – one for a dollar, which we gave to Rob’s father, one with a VCR component (since our VCR upstairs has died), and a new one for downstairs. The deals were alright this year, but nothing like they used to be. I was a little disappointed with the sale, but not with our purchases. We will be expecting delivery of a new Sony Grand Wega some time next week.
Instead of following our original plan of then going shopping at the mall after the electronics store, we went home to sleep. I was flat-out exhausted, and I think Rob was pretty tired, too, and we slept for a few more hours to make up for our early morning. We saw the Mac for lunch, and did a little running around, and somewhere in there, Rob lost his wallet and palm pilot thing. We didn’t discover that until the next day, of course… Boxing Day evening was spent watching slides at my parents’ place. My father does up a slideshow every year, and this year’s was pretty good – a lot of different slides we kids had never seen from before we were born. And of course some from when we were kids, and some from our teen years… Poor Rob – this was his first exposure to the slide night. I think he did alright, though, in spite of our being very tired towards the end of the evening!
The holidays have been great except for the wallet loss… Rob is currently replacing all of his I.D. today, which is a bit of a pain, and not how he expected to spend his days off. I, of course, am at work. I’m not working very hard, though, as you can see.
We did a home check this morning to see if a guy who had applied to adopt Bullet is any good. He sounded great on paper, and when I talked with him on the phone, he seemed like a great guy. After thinking about it, I decided that we’d take Bullet with us this morning rather than drawing out the goodbye process… The guy turned out to be a very nice guy. When he heard that I was bringing Bullet this morning to meet him, he called in and took the day off work on the chance that he’d get to keep him, so that indicated to me he really values the dog… And Bullet liked the house (I think!), and it’s well laid-out for him. We brought some toys along with us to leave with him, and a bag of food, and his leash, of course. Bullet fit right in, and explored the place and we asked and answered questions for a little while. Even though he’s in a great home and will do very well with this guy, I am still going to miss him, and cried nearly the whole way home this morning after we left him. He’s such a good dog – all wiggly and happy and sweet. I hope his new owner gives him tons of hugs, all the time, and plays with him and treats him like gold.
We’re going camping for New Year’s Eve again this year, leaving tomorrow after work and returning on Sunday. We have to take two vehicles since we have three dogs, and we won’t all fit into the truck. I’m not sad about that at all – I kind of prefer driving myself in the Jeep… it’s an emergency out if I get too cold camping or have a bad experience, and it’s good to have a second vehicle available. We’re also going to get some firewood to bring home, which I always enjoy. I love getting firewood, for some reason. I’m not too sure why, except I think it’s because we’re getting wood for no money. Sure, there are the incidental costs of gas and time, but it’s fun, and we get to spend time outside with the dogs, and we get firewood!
Beau and I are scheduled to start obedience classes next Tuesday. I’m kind of secretly hoping that if Beau turns out to be a well-behaved dog and doesn’t cause us any additional trouble, Rob will want to keep him as much as I do. I know that’s silly, because he’s already said that he only wants two dogs, but I love the Beau… and if he’s better-behaved, maybe it won’t be too much trouble to have three. And teaching him obedience will make him a better dog all around… even though I hate the idea of him being adopted… He’s doing so well on the leash with the training collar now, and I think he’s smart enough to learn quickly, I’d also like to teach him to track. He’s got a great schnozz on him…
That’s all for now. I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday and that your New Year’s Eve plans are all set and will be fun and safe.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The season improves…
Ok, yeah. I was down yesterday. Really down. I hated the thought of losing my Beau, and I was perturbed by the ongoing car repairs in the garage. But today? Today, I am happy. Very, very happy.
Beau met this woman yesterday, a potential adopter. She wanted a companion dog for her Greyhound. Greyhounds are mostly lovely dogs, quiet and reserved, but with amazing spurts of energy when they want to stretch their legs (which is why they are they way they are – they were built for speed!). However, Greyhounds are also very tall, and Beau has a little bit of the short-man syndrome, and he tends to get a bit snippy with larger dogs when he meets them. Beau did NOT get along with the Greyhound at all, and she didn’t give them any time to get acquainted after he snapped at the poor, tall, skinny thing, which is fine by me. Beau is staying put, at least for the time being.
I wasn’t there for the meeting. I had told this woman to meet up at our house at 3:30p, and we’d introduce them in the back field behind our house, so the setting was a little more neutral than what Beau considers to be his yard. She completely ignored everything I had said and showed up at the house at 2:30p, when I was still at work and completely oblivious, nursing my discontent. Rob, however, was home working on the Jeep (yeah, yeah). Rob apparently has too many days off saved up. But either way, he was there, and he presided over the introductions.
She brought both of her dogs (Greyhound and a small Poodle) into the yard. Rob had wisely taken the NoodleDog and Cooter inside the house for the meeting, so they wouldn’t swarm the newcomers. Beau took a look at the Greyhound and growled, and then snapped around the poor dog’s face. The Greyhound did nothing to provoke him, and reportedly just stood there, feeling very put-upon and probably more than a little worried. The woman just watched, decided Beau was not for her, and left with her dogs, saying “Oh well, no playmates for you today…” (presumably addressing the Greyhound, although I have no proof of that).
He called me right afterwards and told me the good news. Yay!! I felt like someone had lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders, and could breathe, and felt like a new person. I instantly regretted posting my bitter post of yesterday. Rob’s comment was that Beau wouldn’t have suited her little dog family anyway because he’s so rambunctious, he would have torn the Greyhound’s ears playing, and probably would have terrorized the little Poodle. Beau needs someone strong to play with, and someone very tolerant, because he likes to bite ears. Luckily, Cooter’s ears and entire body are well-protected by a good coat of long, long fur, and the NoodleDog is infinitely patient (up to a point, and after that, he just barks his immense bark at whoever is tormenting him).
I floated home, and recharged on the sofa for a few minutes, and then we took the dogs out into the back field and played ball with them. Beau doesn’t get the concept of playing ball – he takes the ball and runs away with it, forcing the NoodleDog and Cooter to chase him all around. He loves that part of it – the chasing. Except Cooter is quite a bit faster than he is, and the NoodleDog is very motivated to get the ball, so he gets knocked around a little bit. Cooter will shoulder-check him, and then the NoodleDog will bark in his face, attempting to reason with him to drop that ball! He’s pretty tenacious about it, though, and keeps a good hold on the ball. We brought a second ball with us, so we could still throw it for the NoodleDog. He does love playing ball, that guy. Everyone frolicked, and it was a pretty scene.
Rob has some great news today, as well. He had applied for a promotion at work – his manager is moving on up the ladder, leaving a vacancy to oversee Rob’s team. He got the word this morning that he has been promoted, and is happy. It will mean more hours working for him, but that’s alright. It’s a good thing.
Smudge still insists on nesting in the Christmas tree. I had thought that after she got up there once or twice, and learned that it doesn’t do anything other than just… stand there, she’d get tired of it and go play with her toys, or torment Cooter by zipping by his nose while he slept from time to time, or pounce on a sleeping Tobey cat, or slide her tiny charming white paw under the Feral Cat’s door. She hasn’t tired of the tree at all. It’s as though the tree is her mission now. She wants to make it DO something. She climbs up to her nesting spot, about halfway to two-thirds up, and she thrashes around. She winds her little lithe body around the trunk, and sort of shakes up and down. Consequently, the Christmas ornaments all do a little dance, and shake up and down, too. Then, she shoots our her little white paw and whacks the ornaments, and when they fall off the tree, she looks very pleased with herself. Pretty, yes. Charming, yes. Deadly to the ornaments, though.
So today is a much better day. I even look forward to battling the malls now, and getting the rest of the presents on my list. I feel recharged and ready to take on the season, silliness and family and business and everything. Merry Christmas, all!! Yay!!
Beau met this woman yesterday, a potential adopter. She wanted a companion dog for her Greyhound. Greyhounds are mostly lovely dogs, quiet and reserved, but with amazing spurts of energy when they want to stretch their legs (which is why they are they way they are – they were built for speed!). However, Greyhounds are also very tall, and Beau has a little bit of the short-man syndrome, and he tends to get a bit snippy with larger dogs when he meets them. Beau did NOT get along with the Greyhound at all, and she didn’t give them any time to get acquainted after he snapped at the poor, tall, skinny thing, which is fine by me. Beau is staying put, at least for the time being.
I wasn’t there for the meeting. I had told this woman to meet up at our house at 3:30p, and we’d introduce them in the back field behind our house, so the setting was a little more neutral than what Beau considers to be his yard. She completely ignored everything I had said and showed up at the house at 2:30p, when I was still at work and completely oblivious, nursing my discontent. Rob, however, was home working on the Jeep (yeah, yeah). Rob apparently has too many days off saved up. But either way, he was there, and he presided over the introductions.
She brought both of her dogs (Greyhound and a small Poodle) into the yard. Rob had wisely taken the NoodleDog and Cooter inside the house for the meeting, so they wouldn’t swarm the newcomers. Beau took a look at the Greyhound and growled, and then snapped around the poor dog’s face. The Greyhound did nothing to provoke him, and reportedly just stood there, feeling very put-upon and probably more than a little worried. The woman just watched, decided Beau was not for her, and left with her dogs, saying “Oh well, no playmates for you today…” (presumably addressing the Greyhound, although I have no proof of that).
He called me right afterwards and told me the good news. Yay!! I felt like someone had lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders, and could breathe, and felt like a new person. I instantly regretted posting my bitter post of yesterday. Rob’s comment was that Beau wouldn’t have suited her little dog family anyway because he’s so rambunctious, he would have torn the Greyhound’s ears playing, and probably would have terrorized the little Poodle. Beau needs someone strong to play with, and someone very tolerant, because he likes to bite ears. Luckily, Cooter’s ears and entire body are well-protected by a good coat of long, long fur, and the NoodleDog is infinitely patient (up to a point, and after that, he just barks his immense bark at whoever is tormenting him).
I floated home, and recharged on the sofa for a few minutes, and then we took the dogs out into the back field and played ball with them. Beau doesn’t get the concept of playing ball – he takes the ball and runs away with it, forcing the NoodleDog and Cooter to chase him all around. He loves that part of it – the chasing. Except Cooter is quite a bit faster than he is, and the NoodleDog is very motivated to get the ball, so he gets knocked around a little bit. Cooter will shoulder-check him, and then the NoodleDog will bark in his face, attempting to reason with him to drop that ball! He’s pretty tenacious about it, though, and keeps a good hold on the ball. We brought a second ball with us, so we could still throw it for the NoodleDog. He does love playing ball, that guy. Everyone frolicked, and it was a pretty scene.
Rob has some great news today, as well. He had applied for a promotion at work – his manager is moving on up the ladder, leaving a vacancy to oversee Rob’s team. He got the word this morning that he has been promoted, and is happy. It will mean more hours working for him, but that’s alright. It’s a good thing.
Smudge still insists on nesting in the Christmas tree. I had thought that after she got up there once or twice, and learned that it doesn’t do anything other than just… stand there, she’d get tired of it and go play with her toys, or torment Cooter by zipping by his nose while he slept from time to time, or pounce on a sleeping Tobey cat, or slide her tiny charming white paw under the Feral Cat’s door. She hasn’t tired of the tree at all. It’s as though the tree is her mission now. She wants to make it DO something. She climbs up to her nesting spot, about halfway to two-thirds up, and she thrashes around. She winds her little lithe body around the trunk, and sort of shakes up and down. Consequently, the Christmas ornaments all do a little dance, and shake up and down, too. Then, she shoots our her little white paw and whacks the ornaments, and when they fall off the tree, she looks very pleased with herself. Pretty, yes. Charming, yes. Deadly to the ornaments, though.
So today is a much better day. I even look forward to battling the malls now, and getting the rest of the presents on my list. I feel recharged and ready to take on the season, silliness and family and business and everything. Merry Christmas, all!! Yay!!
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
'Tis the season...
This time of year is always busy. Busy with social stuff, but also busy with work. We have a bunch of projects that all year-end at December 31, so there is a ton of work associated with that, and it’s Annual General Meeting time at my commercial properties, so I’ve been trying to set those up and get them over with. Being busy is not a bad thing, necessarily, but it’s busy. It means I’m worried about more things than usual, and I have a lot on my mind.
Add to that the fundraiser that I’m working on for 1atatime, and the general family and friends obligations that come with Christmas time, and it makes for a tensed-up sort of feeling.
I love Christmas, I really do. I look forward to it as soon as October hits. I try and push it to the back of my mind through Hallowe’en, and through Remembrance Day, when I’m trying to be somber. By December, usually, I’m shopping and having fun and meeting people for drinks and food and good times. This year, though, I feel I really haven’t had the chance to get into the Christmas spirit at all.
We put our Christmas tree up on Sunday evening. I’ve wanted to get to it for the past couple of weeks, but there was never a good time. On Sunday, we hauled out some boxes of Christmas decorations, and put up the tree. Rob is sort of particular about his tree – he likes the fake tree, says it’s saving a real tree, which I can see. I, myself, prefer a live tree, and by that, I don’t mean a cut one, I mean a potted tree that will last year after year. I had a Norfolk Pine for a lot of years that I’d decorate every year, so my decorations tend to be small and light so they wouldn’t break or bend the branches too much. We put the tree up without much fanfare, and decorating it was a little stressful because I was worried about Rob’s preferences and thought that my decorations wouldn’t fit in with his concept of a properly-decorated tree.
My family always had a nice big star, a home-made cardboard star covered in tinfoil – it seemed to emanate love, you know? Or the feeling of family, anyway. In later years, after the cardboard star had endured numerous Christmas batterings, we retired it in favour of a shiny plastic sort of star/snowflake sort of thing. I never liked the star/snowflake as much. We also had home-made ornaments in with the fancy ones, the sorts of things kids will make in craft classes that are sort of ugly, but sort of pretty and heart-warming.
Rob is strictly an Angel man. He likes an Angel at the top of the tree. To me, it suggests a little too much religiosity, but I can live with it. It doesn’t bother me at all, but it’s different. And the fake tree is different. His decorations are all very nice and matching. Mine are more of a higgeldy-piggedly sort of grouping of small silk Christmas balls, little white snowflakes, little maché apples, some coloured glass balls that have survived the cats over a period of eleven years (originally a package of twelve, I think five or six remain), and various ribbons I bought in an effort to class up my tree. Oh, and candy canes – you can’t have a tree without candy canes.
We have a mix on the tree this year – some of his, some of mine. And last year, during the post-Christmas sales, we bought a package of silver balls and some plastic snowflake thingies (the snowflakes, I think, I rationalized because they weren’t breakable, but the balls are another matter entirely).
Smudge sees the Christmas tree as a large toy, purchased and set up entirely for her own amusement. The first day, she was content to just bat the ornaments off the lower branches, but the second morning, she was halfway up the tree, nesting in it and chewing on nearby ornaments. My little snowflakes seem to bear the brunt of her fascination, and she also knocked off one of the silver balls and broke it. She is a little devil, but oh-so pretty. She even looks like an ornament, herself, so I’m actually a little charmed when she nests in the tree.
It drives Cooter bananas, though. We blocked the tree off from the dogs with the feared and hated vacuum cleaner and the two sofas so they wouldn’t try to eat or destroy it, and he can’t get at her when she’s under or in the tree. He can see her, and he can see evidence that she is there, what with the tree shaking like it’s possessed, but he can’t get at her. And it doesn’t help when I yell “Smudge! No!! Get out of there!!” and he can’t do anything about it. Usually, if one of the cats is doing something untoward, I say “NO!” and the dogs take that as a sign to “get” them. They never really do anything to the cats, but they sort of pounce at them, and Cooter will nudge them with his nose, and he thinks that’s performing the biggest duty in the house ever. He’s confounded by the tree, though. Even if he could get near the tree, he wouldn’t be able to reach her unless he sort of stood up to get her.
Adding to the stress is a sadness this year that eventually, someone will want to come and adopt Beau, my foster dog. I have gotten way too attached, and love him like I would love a child of my own. It absolutely breaks my heart to think that he wouldn’t be in my life any more. He is a funny little fellow… and is learning the rules of the house. He was so good yesterday – no destruction in the house at all, and he was quiet and well-behaved in the evening. We played ball yesterday, and he managed to get the ball from the NoodleDog and Cooter once, and he ran around with it in his mouth, trying to get the others to chase him all over the back field. He loved the attention and the game, and had a great time. He’s cute and cuddly and pays attention to me – the other dogs just listen to Rob and would prefer to snuggle with him. But Beau, my baby Beau, is really mine. Rob’s been trying to steal him, but I think Beau is still loyal to me.
I don’t know what I’ll do if someone actually takes him… he has just stolen my heart completely. I want to buy him Christmas presents, and take him to obedience school, and teach him to track, which I think he would just love. And I want to play with him, and snuggle him and tell him he’s loved more than he could ever imagine. I want to keep him close to me, and pet him all the time, and give him toys and treats and take care of him. I don’t know if it’s that I can imagine that the other dogs don’t really need me much – they really look to Rob for more of the care, and like his games better, and like his style better, or whatever – or if it’s just that he’s new and different and funny. I still love our dogs tons and tons, but Beau… I don’t know. Just the thought of losing him crushes me.
I didn’t really expect to get this attached to him. I knew he was a foster dog, and wanted him to find a happy home where he could be loved and have his own place. I figured we’d get him out of that wretched kennel and into a home situation where he could be happier until someone would adopt him, and I’d be glad to see him move on in his life and be someone else’s dog. But now, after having been around him for over a month, I love him more and more every day! He’s fitting in well with our dogs and cats, and he doesn’t cause too much trouble – no more than you’d expect from a dog his age with his energy level and attention span – and he’s easy to take care of when I’m already taking care of two other dogs anyway… it doesn’t cost much more to feed him, and he doesn’t take up too much room… and he’s smart and is learning all the rules, and, well, he just fits.
Rob, though, says that three dogs is too many. It’s “too hard” to go places with them, or “too hard” to travel if there are three of them to find someone to take care of them, or he can’t walk all three at once (I can walk all three at once – it’s a challenge, but it’s fun), or it’s a lot of trouble training another young dog, or it’s too much fur, or dirt, or dust or whatever. Or he just doesn’t want three. Two is better? I don’t see it, myself. I just don’t understand, I guess, how you could trade love for stuff like that. From my perspective, you deal with things if you have love motivating you. You vacuum more often. You arrange for friends to take care of them, or you board them if you have to go away. You figure out a way to take them with you if you can. You walk them separately if you have to.
Rob would like to have only two cats and only two dogs. I don’t know why two of each. Why not none? Why have any if they’re troublesome? You don’t NOT have pets because they’re troublesome… you have pets because you want them and you love them and can take care of them, and everyone’s lives are enriched by the experience. Yes, you have to cap it when you can’t take care of them at a certain standard. Two is an arbitrary number, though, and doesn’t fit with the standard of care model. One cat is a lonely number, two is better, and if you have two, you wouldn’t really notice a third, and if you have three, four is no problem. Yes, after four, you start getting into territoriality, and some cats don’t get along with the other animals in the house, and you certainly have to clean more. But really, if all the cats get along and you can care for them, four shouldn’t be a problem. Neither should five, if they all get along. I’m not asking for five cats, of course – I know better. There are some kittens on the shelter websites that could use homes, but I don’t ask for that…
With the dogs, you have one, and he’s alright by himself and he probably gets a lot of attention, and maybe a little spoiled. You have two, and they can play. And sure, you have two hands, so they’re easy to walk and you can deal with them. You add a third, and it gets a little more logistical when you’re thinking about leashes and walking and stuff, but really, it’s not that bad. Four, I’ll agree, depending on the dogs, can be too many. It’s pretty tricky to walk four dogs. It’s a little tricky walking three, I’ll agree, but it’s manageable, and will only get easier as the third dog learns how to walk properly and learns to “heel”. A third and fourth dog, well-trained, would probably not be much more trouble at all, though.
I don’t know. I’m trying to justify it, and there’s no point to trying. We simply won’t agree on this, and I’m not sure what will come of it. I’ll be very sad if/when someone adopts Beau.
The Jeep is still out of commission. Rob has been driving around in his truck with the camper on it for the past couple of weeks. We didn’t take the camper off the truck because we’re supposed to go camping for New Year’s, and the yard wasn’t set up to unload the camper, and we really ran out of time to do it to make it worthwhile. And the Jeep isn’t done yet. Rob is doing all of this body-work himself on the Jeep, and with the cost of the accidents (stress, time, aggravation, injury value, pain, etc.) and the additional time it’s taking to do the repairs, I have personally decided that doing things ourselves is no longer worthwhile. Fun, side-jobs that have no impact on our lives may be alright, as long as there are no artificial deadlines associated with them that would add any stress. But jobs that are necessary, like getting a daily driving car back on the road, are probably better left to professionals who have safety protocols and worker’s compensation and more than one person to do the work. It gets done faster, you pay the money you earn so you can live your life, and it’s over. You get your car back and it’s fixed. I don’t see the problem with this. You want to build a truck in the garage as a fun project? Fine. That has little impact on everyone’s day-to-day life. You get to do something you enjoy for fun as a hobby. Hobbies are good. And if you actually get a working truck out of the deal, even better. But if you’re talking about repairing a vehicle that you need, to try and do it at home when there’s no guarantee the repair will work, and it takes a lot longer than you expect, it seems like there’s a problem with that. You outlay the time and money for the repair, and possibly injure yourself in the process, and it just seems like some sort of law of diminishing return, or a negative labour productivity rate, and the opportunity cost is too high (I have been reading economics stuff today). I don’t understand, again.
Maybe I’m dense. Maybe, possibly, I’m extremely stupid. I have no idea. But from my perspective, you make the money at your job where you get paid so you can trade for goods and services. Repairing a car is a service. You can pay for it. They have people out there whose entire jobs are repairing cars. Just think of the impact to the economy if we all repaired our own cars!! Economic terms define waste as: “When the relative value of a good is different from that goods marginal cost of production, waste occurs. Goods or resources are wasted when they are allocated to uses which are not the most valuable.”
Gah.
So it doesn’t feel all that Christmas-y. I did a little shopping last weekend, and enjoyed that alright. I have a lot more shopping to do, of course, but we’ll see how that goes. I prefer to stay out of the malls when they’re crowded so that pretty much lets me out of shopping until Christmas. I will have to go one morning when the malls are a little quieter, hopefully.
I am also dreading a certain number of Christmas-related things, like the family gathering, because invariably, every single year, there is an argument, and I can’t stand the fighting at Christmas.
Maybe I don’t like Christmas as much as I thought. Maybe it’s just a big scam. Maybe, this year, I should just stay home in bed for Christmas, or spend it with the critters, who don’t fight about silly things, and don’t insult one another (at least that I know of or can hear). Maybe I should just forget about all the things I could hope for, and just be content not to be horribly, horribly injured, or witness anyone I care about being horribly, horribly injured this year in a back-yard or garage accident. I can tell I’m not in a great mood about all of this – what with the Beau situation and the stupid car repairs going on and the being too busy. It does not feel very Christmas-y at all this year. It’s busy and stressful and sad.
Add to that the fundraiser that I’m working on for 1atatime, and the general family and friends obligations that come with Christmas time, and it makes for a tensed-up sort of feeling.
I love Christmas, I really do. I look forward to it as soon as October hits. I try and push it to the back of my mind through Hallowe’en, and through Remembrance Day, when I’m trying to be somber. By December, usually, I’m shopping and having fun and meeting people for drinks and food and good times. This year, though, I feel I really haven’t had the chance to get into the Christmas spirit at all.
We put our Christmas tree up on Sunday evening. I’ve wanted to get to it for the past couple of weeks, but there was never a good time. On Sunday, we hauled out some boxes of Christmas decorations, and put up the tree. Rob is sort of particular about his tree – he likes the fake tree, says it’s saving a real tree, which I can see. I, myself, prefer a live tree, and by that, I don’t mean a cut one, I mean a potted tree that will last year after year. I had a Norfolk Pine for a lot of years that I’d decorate every year, so my decorations tend to be small and light so they wouldn’t break or bend the branches too much. We put the tree up without much fanfare, and decorating it was a little stressful because I was worried about Rob’s preferences and thought that my decorations wouldn’t fit in with his concept of a properly-decorated tree.
My family always had a nice big star, a home-made cardboard star covered in tinfoil – it seemed to emanate love, you know? Or the feeling of family, anyway. In later years, after the cardboard star had endured numerous Christmas batterings, we retired it in favour of a shiny plastic sort of star/snowflake sort of thing. I never liked the star/snowflake as much. We also had home-made ornaments in with the fancy ones, the sorts of things kids will make in craft classes that are sort of ugly, but sort of pretty and heart-warming.
Rob is strictly an Angel man. He likes an Angel at the top of the tree. To me, it suggests a little too much religiosity, but I can live with it. It doesn’t bother me at all, but it’s different. And the fake tree is different. His decorations are all very nice and matching. Mine are more of a higgeldy-piggedly sort of grouping of small silk Christmas balls, little white snowflakes, little maché apples, some coloured glass balls that have survived the cats over a period of eleven years (originally a package of twelve, I think five or six remain), and various ribbons I bought in an effort to class up my tree. Oh, and candy canes – you can’t have a tree without candy canes.
We have a mix on the tree this year – some of his, some of mine. And last year, during the post-Christmas sales, we bought a package of silver balls and some plastic snowflake thingies (the snowflakes, I think, I rationalized because they weren’t breakable, but the balls are another matter entirely).
Smudge sees the Christmas tree as a large toy, purchased and set up entirely for her own amusement. The first day, she was content to just bat the ornaments off the lower branches, but the second morning, she was halfway up the tree, nesting in it and chewing on nearby ornaments. My little snowflakes seem to bear the brunt of her fascination, and she also knocked off one of the silver balls and broke it. She is a little devil, but oh-so pretty. She even looks like an ornament, herself, so I’m actually a little charmed when she nests in the tree.
It drives Cooter bananas, though. We blocked the tree off from the dogs with the feared and hated vacuum cleaner and the two sofas so they wouldn’t try to eat or destroy it, and he can’t get at her when she’s under or in the tree. He can see her, and he can see evidence that she is there, what with the tree shaking like it’s possessed, but he can’t get at her. And it doesn’t help when I yell “Smudge! No!! Get out of there!!” and he can’t do anything about it. Usually, if one of the cats is doing something untoward, I say “NO!” and the dogs take that as a sign to “get” them. They never really do anything to the cats, but they sort of pounce at them, and Cooter will nudge them with his nose, and he thinks that’s performing the biggest duty in the house ever. He’s confounded by the tree, though. Even if he could get near the tree, he wouldn’t be able to reach her unless he sort of stood up to get her.
Adding to the stress is a sadness this year that eventually, someone will want to come and adopt Beau, my foster dog. I have gotten way too attached, and love him like I would love a child of my own. It absolutely breaks my heart to think that he wouldn’t be in my life any more. He is a funny little fellow… and is learning the rules of the house. He was so good yesterday – no destruction in the house at all, and he was quiet and well-behaved in the evening. We played ball yesterday, and he managed to get the ball from the NoodleDog and Cooter once, and he ran around with it in his mouth, trying to get the others to chase him all over the back field. He loved the attention and the game, and had a great time. He’s cute and cuddly and pays attention to me – the other dogs just listen to Rob and would prefer to snuggle with him. But Beau, my baby Beau, is really mine. Rob’s been trying to steal him, but I think Beau is still loyal to me.
I don’t know what I’ll do if someone actually takes him… he has just stolen my heart completely. I want to buy him Christmas presents, and take him to obedience school, and teach him to track, which I think he would just love. And I want to play with him, and snuggle him and tell him he’s loved more than he could ever imagine. I want to keep him close to me, and pet him all the time, and give him toys and treats and take care of him. I don’t know if it’s that I can imagine that the other dogs don’t really need me much – they really look to Rob for more of the care, and like his games better, and like his style better, or whatever – or if it’s just that he’s new and different and funny. I still love our dogs tons and tons, but Beau… I don’t know. Just the thought of losing him crushes me.
I didn’t really expect to get this attached to him. I knew he was a foster dog, and wanted him to find a happy home where he could be loved and have his own place. I figured we’d get him out of that wretched kennel and into a home situation where he could be happier until someone would adopt him, and I’d be glad to see him move on in his life and be someone else’s dog. But now, after having been around him for over a month, I love him more and more every day! He’s fitting in well with our dogs and cats, and he doesn’t cause too much trouble – no more than you’d expect from a dog his age with his energy level and attention span – and he’s easy to take care of when I’m already taking care of two other dogs anyway… it doesn’t cost much more to feed him, and he doesn’t take up too much room… and he’s smart and is learning all the rules, and, well, he just fits.
Rob, though, says that three dogs is too many. It’s “too hard” to go places with them, or “too hard” to travel if there are three of them to find someone to take care of them, or he can’t walk all three at once (I can walk all three at once – it’s a challenge, but it’s fun), or it’s a lot of trouble training another young dog, or it’s too much fur, or dirt, or dust or whatever. Or he just doesn’t want three. Two is better? I don’t see it, myself. I just don’t understand, I guess, how you could trade love for stuff like that. From my perspective, you deal with things if you have love motivating you. You vacuum more often. You arrange for friends to take care of them, or you board them if you have to go away. You figure out a way to take them with you if you can. You walk them separately if you have to.
Rob would like to have only two cats and only two dogs. I don’t know why two of each. Why not none? Why have any if they’re troublesome? You don’t NOT have pets because they’re troublesome… you have pets because you want them and you love them and can take care of them, and everyone’s lives are enriched by the experience. Yes, you have to cap it when you can’t take care of them at a certain standard. Two is an arbitrary number, though, and doesn’t fit with the standard of care model. One cat is a lonely number, two is better, and if you have two, you wouldn’t really notice a third, and if you have three, four is no problem. Yes, after four, you start getting into territoriality, and some cats don’t get along with the other animals in the house, and you certainly have to clean more. But really, if all the cats get along and you can care for them, four shouldn’t be a problem. Neither should five, if they all get along. I’m not asking for five cats, of course – I know better. There are some kittens on the shelter websites that could use homes, but I don’t ask for that…
With the dogs, you have one, and he’s alright by himself and he probably gets a lot of attention, and maybe a little spoiled. You have two, and they can play. And sure, you have two hands, so they’re easy to walk and you can deal with them. You add a third, and it gets a little more logistical when you’re thinking about leashes and walking and stuff, but really, it’s not that bad. Four, I’ll agree, depending on the dogs, can be too many. It’s pretty tricky to walk four dogs. It’s a little tricky walking three, I’ll agree, but it’s manageable, and will only get easier as the third dog learns how to walk properly and learns to “heel”. A third and fourth dog, well-trained, would probably not be much more trouble at all, though.
I don’t know. I’m trying to justify it, and there’s no point to trying. We simply won’t agree on this, and I’m not sure what will come of it. I’ll be very sad if/when someone adopts Beau.
The Jeep is still out of commission. Rob has been driving around in his truck with the camper on it for the past couple of weeks. We didn’t take the camper off the truck because we’re supposed to go camping for New Year’s, and the yard wasn’t set up to unload the camper, and we really ran out of time to do it to make it worthwhile. And the Jeep isn’t done yet. Rob is doing all of this body-work himself on the Jeep, and with the cost of the accidents (stress, time, aggravation, injury value, pain, etc.) and the additional time it’s taking to do the repairs, I have personally decided that doing things ourselves is no longer worthwhile. Fun, side-jobs that have no impact on our lives may be alright, as long as there are no artificial deadlines associated with them that would add any stress. But jobs that are necessary, like getting a daily driving car back on the road, are probably better left to professionals who have safety protocols and worker’s compensation and more than one person to do the work. It gets done faster, you pay the money you earn so you can live your life, and it’s over. You get your car back and it’s fixed. I don’t see the problem with this. You want to build a truck in the garage as a fun project? Fine. That has little impact on everyone’s day-to-day life. You get to do something you enjoy for fun as a hobby. Hobbies are good. And if you actually get a working truck out of the deal, even better. But if you’re talking about repairing a vehicle that you need, to try and do it at home when there’s no guarantee the repair will work, and it takes a lot longer than you expect, it seems like there’s a problem with that. You outlay the time and money for the repair, and possibly injure yourself in the process, and it just seems like some sort of law of diminishing return, or a negative labour productivity rate, and the opportunity cost is too high (I have been reading economics stuff today). I don’t understand, again.
Maybe I’m dense. Maybe, possibly, I’m extremely stupid. I have no idea. But from my perspective, you make the money at your job where you get paid so you can trade for goods and services. Repairing a car is a service. You can pay for it. They have people out there whose entire jobs are repairing cars. Just think of the impact to the economy if we all repaired our own cars!! Economic terms define waste as: “When the relative value of a good is different from that goods marginal cost of production, waste occurs. Goods or resources are wasted when they are allocated to uses which are not the most valuable.”
Gah.
So it doesn’t feel all that Christmas-y. I did a little shopping last weekend, and enjoyed that alright. I have a lot more shopping to do, of course, but we’ll see how that goes. I prefer to stay out of the malls when they’re crowded so that pretty much lets me out of shopping until Christmas. I will have to go one morning when the malls are a little quieter, hopefully.
I am also dreading a certain number of Christmas-related things, like the family gathering, because invariably, every single year, there is an argument, and I can’t stand the fighting at Christmas.
Maybe I don’t like Christmas as much as I thought. Maybe it’s just a big scam. Maybe, this year, I should just stay home in bed for Christmas, or spend it with the critters, who don’t fight about silly things, and don’t insult one another (at least that I know of or can hear). Maybe I should just forget about all the things I could hope for, and just be content not to be horribly, horribly injured, or witness anyone I care about being horribly, horribly injured this year in a back-yard or garage accident. I can tell I’m not in a great mood about all of this – what with the Beau situation and the stupid car repairs going on and the being too busy. It does not feel very Christmas-y at all this year. It’s busy and stressful and sad.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Let it never snow, ever again, except possibly on Christmas Day, although I’d still be fine with a nice sunny Christmas…
Man, is it cold out. -20C, which is cold. It has been cold since last week. We did so well with November being pretty much the nicest it’s been in a while. And now that is all over but the crying, and we’d cry, but the tears would freeze to our faces and we’d all die.
This winter is going to be a long one. I know time has been flying, but when it’s this cold out, it seems like it’ll never be nice again. My favourite time of year is the two weeks in summer here when it gets up to +30C, and I can just bask. I bask all over the place. I bask in the back yard, I bask in the car. I bask even on my way to the office. I can’t really bask IN the office because they run the air conditioning to make it +15C, and I die because I’m only wearing summer clothing, and that repertoire does not include wool sweaters and heavy pants. It includes summer dresses and light linen pants, and cute tops. I have to keep a heavy sweater at my desk for those a/c days.
Rob, seeing my distress in the summertime, bought me a little space heater for under my desk. I run it constantly in the office. Even now, in winter, when the heat is actually ON for a change, I still run the heater. It keeps me toasty warm. I hate to get up from my desk now because the heater is there, keeping my feet nice and cozy, and when I leave the bubble of heat the heater creates, I am sad.
Rob is a genius when it comes to dealing with the environmental weather changes of Calgary. He bought us each seat-warmers, because we drive vehicles built before some other genius thought to include built-in heated seats. These ones are purchases from The Great Canadian Tire, and were only about $12, and they plug into the car lighter. I run the seat heater constantly in the car, too, and my ass is the only part of me that is nice and warm running around from place to place, shop to shop, foster home to foster home. I love my seat heater.
Rob may be a genius with the weather challenges, but he’s had some bad luck lately in the garage. I had told you about his toe, which was a bad accident. Well, I guess that wasn’t enough to make up for his ten years accident-free garage working, and last week, he managed to cut the living hell out of his arm. I had three evening meetings last week, never a good thing, and we had our first major snowstorm last Monday, making traffic really horrible. On Tuesday, I had to get across the city, and although I gave myself an hour to do so, it took the entire hour just to get to the parking lot where I was going. And as I pulled in, cursing the traffic and swearing at various idiot drivers, Rob called. He sounded very upset, and I asked if he wanted me to come home, and he said yes, so I knew it must be extremely serious, because Rob is not a complainer. Luckily, my boss was doing the presentation meeting with me, so I gave him the presentation materials and headed home. The same distance that had taken me an hour to traverse only took me 20 minutes going in the opposite direction, and it was good that it only took 20 minutes, because man, the house and the gore.
I got in the back door, and there was blood everywhere. There was even more blood all over the kitchen. And the bathroom. Rob had cut his arm with a utility knife, and had, in the process, nicked a little artery. Nice long sprays of blood decorated the kitchen counter, along with the dishes in the dish drainer, the cupboards and floor… it looked like a slasher flick.
Not wasting any time (and trying not to step in the little pools of blood), we rushed in to the hospital. He was covered in blood from his face to his waist, and I’m not kidding. His arms were all bloody – the one from the two inch-long cut, obviously, and the other from holding pressure and a tie around the cut – and the arterial spray had caught him in the face, and he had a big bloody patch on his chest from holding his arm there. He looked terrible! The ER people got him a wheelchair right away, presumably because they didn’t want him fainting on them and being immovable, and he got in to the stitching area very quickly. Even more quickly than the previous week with his toe!
The ER doc put in three temporary stitches after looking at it. She figured he’d need plastic surgery because of the depth of the cut. He had managed to cut through the skin and subcutaneous fat and into the muscle bed. She made him an appointment with the plastic surgeon for the following afternoon.
The next afternoon, we went back and waited for two hours to see the surgeon. I was getting impatient and was just about to call “time” and make an appointment with another plastic surgeon through our regular doctor when he finally showed up. He was worth the wait, after all, and was very nice and professional and thorough. He let me watch the entire time, and explained everything he was doing. He extended the cut by about an inch to an inch and a half, stitched up the fascia over the muscle, then stitched beneath the skin to close the cut, and then stitched the entire thing closed properly. All in all, Rob got nearly 30 stitches for that cut.
His arm is out of commission except for light regular use (i.e. knife & fork, TV remote control) for three weeks so as not to herniate the muscle through the stitches. This means he gets out of shoveling the walk and lifting anything around the house.
You would think that would be enough excitement for a week, but it wasn’t. No further injuries, but there was a lot of work getting the rescue dogs out of their kennel space. Pet Planet, after having promised kennel space until all the dogs were adopted out, took back their space under the auspices of it being a busy Christmas season. There was a mad panic last week trying to line up foster homes for all of the remaining dogs to be transferred on the weekend. We did alright, all things considered, but Saturday was really too long of a day.
Saturday started with me getting up to pick up Alissa (the Calgary Director of 1atatime) for us to go to Red Deer and get the two dogs left up there from the vet hospital who had donated neuters for them. One of the three dogs left had an adopter, which worked out great. I think Zeus (his new name yet to be determined) will do very well with his new dad, who seemed like a really great guy. We had a possible adopter for one of the other dogs, as well, but she reneged at the last minute. Alissa had also thought it would be a good idea to take her own dog, Adora, in to the vet there for a quick allergy check since she had eaten something and her skin was turning red/pink. After finishing with Zeus’s adoption, we were waiting for the other two dogs to be brought out, and to finish the paperwork, when Alissa noticed blood in Adora’s urine, so there was another round of checking her over.
Although we had gotten to Red Deer early (around 9:30a), we didn’t get out of there until 11:45a. And I pushed it past the limit of speed to get home as fast as possible, knowing I had to get two dogs into foster homes by the end of the day, as well as having to get to Pet Planet to get another dog over to my place for the weekend, and to take another load of donations and 1atatime stuff to the storage place we had to rent.
The two foster homes worked out well in spite of a couple of hiccups, and we got Bullet, a little hound mix, over to my place, and then dropped off the load to storage. I didn’t get home until after 5p, and was very tired. We had no chance to eat throughout the day – just no time.
Bullet was overwhelmed at my place what with the Cooter and the NoodleDog and Beau swarming him as soon as he got to the yard. We had to split everyone up and just introduce him to Cooter, who is a good ambassador dog for that sort of thing. Cooter is playful enough and secure enough that he really doesn’t mind if another dog is uncertain at first. He won Bullet over by running around him in circles until Bullet had to forget why he was so upset and just chase him. It didn’t hurt that Cooter was twice Bullet’s size, too. And once Beau and the NoodleDog saw that Cooter was friends with the new dog, they accepted him quite well, and everyone played played played until bedtime.
Bullet had a foster home who could take him on Monday, so yesterday, I brought him in to the office and he got taken to his new temporary home. He’s such a happy little guy, he was thrilled to meet new people and get a real home to settle into for a while. He has a big bark – you can really hear the hound in him when he barks his sort of baying/howling bark, and man, is he loud!!
I took a break from rescue work on Sunday, and tried to relax. We ran a couple of errands and then did nothing for the rest of the day. It was nice. We were supposed to go for dinner to my parents’ place, something we haven’t done for going on four months now, but we cancelled due to the extra dog situation.
Things are settling down to sort of normal at home, now with only the three dogs. I took the feral cat, who turned out to be a boy (or formerly a boy as of his appointment), to the vet yesterday to be fixed and given a health check. He’s reasonably healthy, and instead of putting him back into the garage, I put him into the spare room. I’m going to try acclimatizing him to people, slowly, over the next month. I think it can be done. He seems like a fairly smart cat, and I think his big worry is that we’re going to eat him or hurt him. Once he learns that we’re alright, he should be OK. He probably won’t ever be a lap cat, but he might be able to live in a house and deal with people. I won’t be able to introduce him to my cats at all, but I think I can get him used to me, at least, and that’s a big step.
I am completely heartbroken at the thought that someone wants to come and see Beau for possible adoption. I was told last week that someone was interested in him, and have been doing my best not to think about it since then. But of course, I can’t stop. I love my little Beau – he’s a great little guy. I knew when I fostered him that eventually, someone would want to adopt him. I can’t quite understand why they’re not all adopted since they’re such great dogs, but I guess that’s just me. I’m just way too attached to Beau for my own good. He’s snuggly and he loves me. I know that if Rob and I were to each call the NoodleDog and Cooter, they’d go to him first (traitorous dogs!). But if Rob and I were to call Beau, Beau would come to me. I’m sure of that. I think Beau knows and is glad I took him out of the kennel. And I think that makes a difference, somehow.
Rob’s point is that three dogs is too many. Two are manageable because there are two of us. And two fit into the car and the Jeep, and sort of the truck if one sits on me. Three would just be cramped if we were to travel with them. Three are harder to control on the leash. If I try to walk all three, I can almost manage, but it’s definitely easier if there are just two (because I still have two usable arms, unlike Rob!). Four is too many – I agree completely with that after having Bullet stay over for the weekend. There’s no way you can control two untrained dogs and two trained dogs, there are too many factors for chaos. The NoodleDog and Cooter know all the words, but even still, if they don’t listen and you have to put them on leash and try to control everyone, it all ends up with me being dragged along by four dogs.
I just think that three dogs could be manageable if we trained Beau properly. Once Beau knows the words and gets better with recall, it’ll be like he’s not even there! He’ll be even better than not being there, he’d be there, but he’d be no trouble, really!!
I know I have to give him up to his own home, but I just can’t stand the thought. Let’s hope we have a little more time with him.
And if you know of anyone thinking about getting a dog, tell them to check out our website at http://www.1atatimerescue.com/ – although the dogs are in foster homes, we can still arrange for meetings and are hoping to find homes for all the dogs by Christmas.
This winter is going to be a long one. I know time has been flying, but when it’s this cold out, it seems like it’ll never be nice again. My favourite time of year is the two weeks in summer here when it gets up to +30C, and I can just bask. I bask all over the place. I bask in the back yard, I bask in the car. I bask even on my way to the office. I can’t really bask IN the office because they run the air conditioning to make it +15C, and I die because I’m only wearing summer clothing, and that repertoire does not include wool sweaters and heavy pants. It includes summer dresses and light linen pants, and cute tops. I have to keep a heavy sweater at my desk for those a/c days.
Rob, seeing my distress in the summertime, bought me a little space heater for under my desk. I run it constantly in the office. Even now, in winter, when the heat is actually ON for a change, I still run the heater. It keeps me toasty warm. I hate to get up from my desk now because the heater is there, keeping my feet nice and cozy, and when I leave the bubble of heat the heater creates, I am sad.
Rob is a genius when it comes to dealing with the environmental weather changes of Calgary. He bought us each seat-warmers, because we drive vehicles built before some other genius thought to include built-in heated seats. These ones are purchases from The Great Canadian Tire, and were only about $12, and they plug into the car lighter. I run the seat heater constantly in the car, too, and my ass is the only part of me that is nice and warm running around from place to place, shop to shop, foster home to foster home. I love my seat heater.
Rob may be a genius with the weather challenges, but he’s had some bad luck lately in the garage. I had told you about his toe, which was a bad accident. Well, I guess that wasn’t enough to make up for his ten years accident-free garage working, and last week, he managed to cut the living hell out of his arm. I had three evening meetings last week, never a good thing, and we had our first major snowstorm last Monday, making traffic really horrible. On Tuesday, I had to get across the city, and although I gave myself an hour to do so, it took the entire hour just to get to the parking lot where I was going. And as I pulled in, cursing the traffic and swearing at various idiot drivers, Rob called. He sounded very upset, and I asked if he wanted me to come home, and he said yes, so I knew it must be extremely serious, because Rob is not a complainer. Luckily, my boss was doing the presentation meeting with me, so I gave him the presentation materials and headed home. The same distance that had taken me an hour to traverse only took me 20 minutes going in the opposite direction, and it was good that it only took 20 minutes, because man, the house and the gore.
I got in the back door, and there was blood everywhere. There was even more blood all over the kitchen. And the bathroom. Rob had cut his arm with a utility knife, and had, in the process, nicked a little artery. Nice long sprays of blood decorated the kitchen counter, along with the dishes in the dish drainer, the cupboards and floor… it looked like a slasher flick.
Not wasting any time (and trying not to step in the little pools of blood), we rushed in to the hospital. He was covered in blood from his face to his waist, and I’m not kidding. His arms were all bloody – the one from the two inch-long cut, obviously, and the other from holding pressure and a tie around the cut – and the arterial spray had caught him in the face, and he had a big bloody patch on his chest from holding his arm there. He looked terrible! The ER people got him a wheelchair right away, presumably because they didn’t want him fainting on them and being immovable, and he got in to the stitching area very quickly. Even more quickly than the previous week with his toe!
The ER doc put in three temporary stitches after looking at it. She figured he’d need plastic surgery because of the depth of the cut. He had managed to cut through the skin and subcutaneous fat and into the muscle bed. She made him an appointment with the plastic surgeon for the following afternoon.
The next afternoon, we went back and waited for two hours to see the surgeon. I was getting impatient and was just about to call “time” and make an appointment with another plastic surgeon through our regular doctor when he finally showed up. He was worth the wait, after all, and was very nice and professional and thorough. He let me watch the entire time, and explained everything he was doing. He extended the cut by about an inch to an inch and a half, stitched up the fascia over the muscle, then stitched beneath the skin to close the cut, and then stitched the entire thing closed properly. All in all, Rob got nearly 30 stitches for that cut.
His arm is out of commission except for light regular use (i.e. knife & fork, TV remote control) for three weeks so as not to herniate the muscle through the stitches. This means he gets out of shoveling the walk and lifting anything around the house.
You would think that would be enough excitement for a week, but it wasn’t. No further injuries, but there was a lot of work getting the rescue dogs out of their kennel space. Pet Planet, after having promised kennel space until all the dogs were adopted out, took back their space under the auspices of it being a busy Christmas season. There was a mad panic last week trying to line up foster homes for all of the remaining dogs to be transferred on the weekend. We did alright, all things considered, but Saturday was really too long of a day.
Saturday started with me getting up to pick up Alissa (the Calgary Director of 1atatime) for us to go to Red Deer and get the two dogs left up there from the vet hospital who had donated neuters for them. One of the three dogs left had an adopter, which worked out great. I think Zeus (his new name yet to be determined) will do very well with his new dad, who seemed like a really great guy. We had a possible adopter for one of the other dogs, as well, but she reneged at the last minute. Alissa had also thought it would be a good idea to take her own dog, Adora, in to the vet there for a quick allergy check since she had eaten something and her skin was turning red/pink. After finishing with Zeus’s adoption, we were waiting for the other two dogs to be brought out, and to finish the paperwork, when Alissa noticed blood in Adora’s urine, so there was another round of checking her over.
Although we had gotten to Red Deer early (around 9:30a), we didn’t get out of there until 11:45a. And I pushed it past the limit of speed to get home as fast as possible, knowing I had to get two dogs into foster homes by the end of the day, as well as having to get to Pet Planet to get another dog over to my place for the weekend, and to take another load of donations and 1atatime stuff to the storage place we had to rent.
The two foster homes worked out well in spite of a couple of hiccups, and we got Bullet, a little hound mix, over to my place, and then dropped off the load to storage. I didn’t get home until after 5p, and was very tired. We had no chance to eat throughout the day – just no time.
Bullet was overwhelmed at my place what with the Cooter and the NoodleDog and Beau swarming him as soon as he got to the yard. We had to split everyone up and just introduce him to Cooter, who is a good ambassador dog for that sort of thing. Cooter is playful enough and secure enough that he really doesn’t mind if another dog is uncertain at first. He won Bullet over by running around him in circles until Bullet had to forget why he was so upset and just chase him. It didn’t hurt that Cooter was twice Bullet’s size, too. And once Beau and the NoodleDog saw that Cooter was friends with the new dog, they accepted him quite well, and everyone played played played until bedtime.
Bullet had a foster home who could take him on Monday, so yesterday, I brought him in to the office and he got taken to his new temporary home. He’s such a happy little guy, he was thrilled to meet new people and get a real home to settle into for a while. He has a big bark – you can really hear the hound in him when he barks his sort of baying/howling bark, and man, is he loud!!
I took a break from rescue work on Sunday, and tried to relax. We ran a couple of errands and then did nothing for the rest of the day. It was nice. We were supposed to go for dinner to my parents’ place, something we haven’t done for going on four months now, but we cancelled due to the extra dog situation.
Things are settling down to sort of normal at home, now with only the three dogs. I took the feral cat, who turned out to be a boy (or formerly a boy as of his appointment), to the vet yesterday to be fixed and given a health check. He’s reasonably healthy, and instead of putting him back into the garage, I put him into the spare room. I’m going to try acclimatizing him to people, slowly, over the next month. I think it can be done. He seems like a fairly smart cat, and I think his big worry is that we’re going to eat him or hurt him. Once he learns that we’re alright, he should be OK. He probably won’t ever be a lap cat, but he might be able to live in a house and deal with people. I won’t be able to introduce him to my cats at all, but I think I can get him used to me, at least, and that’s a big step.
I am completely heartbroken at the thought that someone wants to come and see Beau for possible adoption. I was told last week that someone was interested in him, and have been doing my best not to think about it since then. But of course, I can’t stop. I love my little Beau – he’s a great little guy. I knew when I fostered him that eventually, someone would want to adopt him. I can’t quite understand why they’re not all adopted since they’re such great dogs, but I guess that’s just me. I’m just way too attached to Beau for my own good. He’s snuggly and he loves me. I know that if Rob and I were to each call the NoodleDog and Cooter, they’d go to him first (traitorous dogs!). But if Rob and I were to call Beau, Beau would come to me. I’m sure of that. I think Beau knows and is glad I took him out of the kennel. And I think that makes a difference, somehow.
Rob’s point is that three dogs is too many. Two are manageable because there are two of us. And two fit into the car and the Jeep, and sort of the truck if one sits on me. Three would just be cramped if we were to travel with them. Three are harder to control on the leash. If I try to walk all three, I can almost manage, but it’s definitely easier if there are just two (because I still have two usable arms, unlike Rob!). Four is too many – I agree completely with that after having Bullet stay over for the weekend. There’s no way you can control two untrained dogs and two trained dogs, there are too many factors for chaos. The NoodleDog and Cooter know all the words, but even still, if they don’t listen and you have to put them on leash and try to control everyone, it all ends up with me being dragged along by four dogs.
I just think that three dogs could be manageable if we trained Beau properly. Once Beau knows the words and gets better with recall, it’ll be like he’s not even there! He’ll be even better than not being there, he’d be there, but he’d be no trouble, really!!
I know I have to give him up to his own home, but I just can’t stand the thought. Let’s hope we have a little more time with him.
And if you know of anyone thinking about getting a dog, tell them to check out our website at http://www.1atatimerescue.com/ – although the dogs are in foster homes, we can still arrange for meetings and are hoping to find homes for all the dogs by Christmas.
