Thanksgiving is less than a week away. So every day until Thanksgiving, I'm going to give thanks for something in my life.
Today, it's my family. God blessed me with the most fantastic, loving, loyal family on the planet. We may be a disfunctional mix of steps and halves and full bloods, but we work. My mom died when I was 3 years old. My little sister and I were raised by my dad. He married my step mom when I was like 8yo, and that brought my two step sisters, and they brought their two half sisters. We also have a half sister from my dad before he met my real mom.
This leaves me with six amazing sisters. My parents have siblings. Many many siblings. I've got a slew of aunts and uncles and cousins around the country. And they are all amazing too.
Growing up, we had family meals each night. Our Easters and Thankgsgivings and Christmases are a flood of happy, warm memories, with a celebration of good food, laughter, games, church and pretty lights.
My family is something I cherish.
I grew up with friends who didnt have the same childhood I had. Either they were raised by a single parent who didnt try as hard as they could. Their unorganized homes smelling of stale cigarettes and burnt food, with dim, ugly lighting.
I feel so lucky at the family I come from. They are good people who gave me every opportunity to succeed and be happy. And because of them, I am. Lord thank you for my family.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Duck, Duck... Goose?
Are you guys sick of reading about dogs?
Aussies?
Aussies?
I talk about them... quite often. I won't apologize. But I will change the subject.
Would you rather talk about....
Duck?
Would you rather talk about....
Duck?
Duck?
Goose?
Llama?
Eeore?
I really loved the Eeore. But he was kind of mean to the other donkeys in the paddock.
I'm not a Llama fan either. But this guy was so beautiful I couldn't help snapping his picture.
And who woulda thunk that birds could photograph so beautifully?
There, you happy? No dogs!
Oh. Well except at the top...
I never said I was perfect!
I'm not a Llama fan either. But this guy was so beautiful I couldn't help snapping his picture.
And who woulda thunk that birds could photograph so beautifully?
There, you happy? No dogs!
Oh. Well except at the top...
I never said I was perfect!
Monday, November 8, 2010
October North
Last month Red and I took a weekend off from our lives and headed north with my sister and her man.
It was during a time when my anxiety was getting the better of me and I needed some time with no responsibilities, no phone, no computer and no schedule. We relaxed in the sun, the boys went fishing while Jenny and I went paddle boating and to see some of the town. Wine and campfires and dogs running around their little gypsy camp type property in one of the most beautiful areas by the MN/WI border.
It was just what I needed.
This photo almost hurts my eyes. Its the sun coming to set on Poplar Lake.
It was crystal clear.
On another note, does my dog kind of look like a deer?
It was during a time when my anxiety was getting the better of me and I needed some time with no responsibilities, no phone, no computer and no schedule. We relaxed in the sun, the boys went fishing while Jenny and I went paddle boating and to see some of the town. Wine and campfires and dogs running around their little gypsy camp type property in one of the most beautiful areas by the MN/WI border.
It was just what I needed.
It was crystal clear.
On another note, does my dog kind of look like a deer?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Pet Dog vs. Performance Dog
There's a difference. A big, fat, elephant sized difference.
I never gave it much thought until today. A woman who had met one of our foster dogs over the weekend sent an email stating that we should watch how we train and socialize our dogs. It was not directed at me, I was merely copied in as the team leader. But it got me thinking.
I never gave much thought to the fact that I encourage my dogs to bite hard, and I encourage them to bounce of my body, and I encourage them to be a bit psycho. Granted, I only encourage such behaviors when I ask for them, when we're playing frisbee.
I've had TommyBoy for almost 4 months now. During this time, I have never thought to put a stop to his body bouncing. Why would I? Tommy has huge potential to be a disc dog. As a performance dog owner/trainer, thats all I see when I go to work with Tommy.
But I forget that the people who are going to look at Tommy to adopt may not want a performance dog. They may not want a dog that doesnt hesitate to bounce his entire body off theirs. Tommy has a trait that I've been struggling to pull out of my own dogs. I first saw Tony Hoard's Aussie do it. During a frisbee routine, the dog hops up and bounces off Tony's hip 3x in a row. I love it, its flashy, and Tommy does it without hesitation. Man I'd love for Frankie or Kirby to be able to whip this out during a routine! But what I dont consider as I encourage Tommy's bouncing is the people who may adopt him one day.
There is a good reason that your average person doesnt really like my dogs. And it's not the dog's fault. Its just the behaviors that I ask for on a daily basis are not appreciated by your average dog owner.
But I should think about these things. I have a Lab who is a pet dog. When he jumps on me, I correct him. When he gets mouthy, I correct him. I dont even think about it.
I never gave it much thought until today. A woman who had met one of our foster dogs over the weekend sent an email stating that we should watch how we train and socialize our dogs. It was not directed at me, I was merely copied in as the team leader. But it got me thinking.
I never gave much thought to the fact that I encourage my dogs to bite hard, and I encourage them to bounce of my body, and I encourage them to be a bit psycho. Granted, I only encourage such behaviors when I ask for them, when we're playing frisbee.
I've had TommyBoy for almost 4 months now. During this time, I have never thought to put a stop to his body bouncing. Why would I? Tommy has huge potential to be a disc dog. As a performance dog owner/trainer, thats all I see when I go to work with Tommy.
But I forget that the people who are going to look at Tommy to adopt may not want a performance dog. They may not want a dog that doesnt hesitate to bounce his entire body off theirs. Tommy has a trait that I've been struggling to pull out of my own dogs. I first saw Tony Hoard's Aussie do it. During a frisbee routine, the dog hops up and bounces off Tony's hip 3x in a row. I love it, its flashy, and Tommy does it without hesitation. Man I'd love for Frankie or Kirby to be able to whip this out during a routine! But what I dont consider as I encourage Tommy's bouncing is the people who may adopt him one day.
There is a good reason that your average person doesnt really like my dogs. And it's not the dog's fault. Its just the behaviors that I ask for on a daily basis are not appreciated by your average dog owner.
But I should think about these things. I have a Lab who is a pet dog. When he jumps on me, I correct him. When he gets mouthy, I correct him. I dont even think about it.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Aussie Birthdays!
Today is the given birthday of my 2 Australian Shepherds.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRANKIE! She's 3 today.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIRBY! He's 2 today.
Now, since both of my Aussies are rescued dogs, I dont know their actual birthdays. But here is a brief rundown on how I came to give them each this day as their birthday.
When I first adopted Frankie from the shelter, she was appx 9 months of age. She arrived on July 13th. Count 3 months out to her 1st birthday. October 13th.
I adopted Kirby in September of 2009. He was 10 months old when I got him, I fostered him for a number of weeks and ultimately adopted him. 11 months. Count out 1 month to his 1st birthday. October. Since Frankie's was already the 13th, I decided they would share it.
Because that's just how I roll.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRANKIE! She's 3 today.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIRBY! He's 2 today.
Now, since both of my Aussies are rescued dogs, I dont know their actual birthdays. But here is a brief rundown on how I came to give them each this day as their birthday.
When I first adopted Frankie from the shelter, she was appx 9 months of age. She arrived on July 13th. Count 3 months out to her 1st birthday. October 13th.
I adopted Kirby in September of 2009. He was 10 months old when I got him, I fostered him for a number of weeks and ultimately adopted him. 11 months. Count out 1 month to his 1st birthday. October. Since Frankie's was already the 13th, I decided they would share it.
Because that's just how I roll.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Blue Tornado
That's the name I've settled on for him.
"Oh, but look how cute and innocent he is!"
Blah blah blah
I'll thank you to never refer to this monster as sweet or cute or innocent, or any of the other adjectives you might use to describe a tiny, half pint kitten.
This dog is none of those things!
He's crazy.
He's a freak.
He's the equivelent Hurricane Carl, in how it continued to torment the country long after it was gone.
Carl flooded my hometown a few weeks ago ya know.
He's... high octane? High voltage? High...
You almost have to be high to tolerate him.
He's a freak.
He's the equivelent Hurricane Carl, in how it continued to torment the country long after it was gone.
Carl flooded my hometown a few weeks ago ya know.
He's... high octane? High voltage? High...
You almost have to be high to tolerate him.
"Who, me?"
Shut up, Two Socks.
He torments you with his charm and his looney antics until you want to knock yourself out with a frying pan.
Then he laughs at you.
He torments you with his charm and his looney antics until you want to knock yourself out with a frying pan.
Then he laughs at you.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Over It
I'm back, for the most part. I've managed to push away most of the debilitating stresses of panic off my shoulders and resume normal life.
But now you know. This is how I react to things that threaten my well being. My only defense machanism is throw a blanket of denial over myself and hide from the world.
How does that even help, anyways?
My life is good. It's great, in fact. I dont have anything to complain about.
These are the things that make me cherish what's really good in my life. The things that make me happy and the things that truely matter to me.
When I lose control of my emotions, I seek comfort and escape from anything around me. Movies. Coffee. Friends and family. My dogs. A good book.
October 3rd, I'd messaged to my facebook that I was genuinely happy right at that moment. There was not a single thing wrong with my life. Less than 72 hours later, my life falls apart (in my head it did, at least).
How does that happen?
I keep trying to go back to October 3rd. The way I felt at that moment.
It's coming back.
We're going out of town this weekend. A mini vacation. I'm fortunate to have multiple sisters who live on lakes. Red and I are taking what is potentially the last truely nice weekend and spending it on the lake.
It won't be quiet though. We're bringing all of the dogs with. All five dogs. Including the blue psycho. Blue tornado? Blue hurricane? Two Socks?
TommyBoy.
Total we will have 7 dogs for the weekend.
Talk about stressors.
But now you know. This is how I react to things that threaten my well being. My only defense machanism is throw a blanket of denial over myself and hide from the world.
How does that even help, anyways?
My life is good. It's great, in fact. I dont have anything to complain about.
These are the things that make me cherish what's really good in my life. The things that make me happy and the things that truely matter to me.
When I lose control of my emotions, I seek comfort and escape from anything around me. Movies. Coffee. Friends and family. My dogs. A good book.
October 3rd, I'd messaged to my facebook that I was genuinely happy right at that moment. There was not a single thing wrong with my life. Less than 72 hours later, my life falls apart (in my head it did, at least).
How does that happen?
I keep trying to go back to October 3rd. The way I felt at that moment.
It's coming back.
We're going out of town this weekend. A mini vacation. I'm fortunate to have multiple sisters who live on lakes. Red and I are taking what is potentially the last truely nice weekend and spending it on the lake.
It won't be quiet though. We're bringing all of the dogs with. All five dogs. Including the blue psycho. Blue tornado? Blue hurricane? Two Socks?
TommyBoy.
Total we will have 7 dogs for the weekend.
Talk about stressors.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Comfort
I needed to blog today. Blogging, and viewing the blogs written by my fellow followed bloggers, is a source of comfort for me.
Fellow followed bloggers? Yeah.
I'm the type of person who is weirded out, wigged out, freaked out by the most random things. When it comes to my health, it get freaked out when something goes wrong.
For instance, Wednesday afternoon at lunch time, I broke a tooth.
I broke. A tooth.
I was chewing my sandwich and my tooth just broke off.
My first reaction was panic, quickly followed by denial. This did not just happen! It's a dream! Wake up! But alas, it was not a dream. A hunk of one of my molars is gone. Well not gone. Its probably still in my truck somewhere after I dropped it when my hands went numb.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a fuzzy, nauseating mood.
Thursday morning, I went to the dentist, where I was given a hoard of good and bad news. The good news is, they can probably fix it. The bad news? The cost to fix my mouth will run me around $7000, on the high side. If they dont have to do a root canal on my broken tooth, then it will be more like $5500. Ish.
I left the dentist office and before I even reached my truck to drive to work, I burst into tears. The panic of knowing that I had 6 hours worth of dental work ahead of me. (The dentist is one of my greatest fears. I'd rather fly on a plane than go to the dentist. Those of you who know me will understand the power of that statement.) The fear of knowing that I don't have $7000 sitting in the bank to spend on my teeth. Then once those feelings had been dampened down, the sheer shame of feeling like I was going to disappoint Red. We have so many dreams and goals together. $7000 would surely shatter them all.
I was only able to make it through about 3.5 hours of work yesterday. I was so worked up over the entire thing that I hadnt eaten since my tooth had broken, which was over 24 hours. I finally went home and took a nap. Then Red came home and we talked about it. And he assured me that none of the things that we are planning for are more important than getting myself healthy. He's so amazing.
Today I feel okay. There is a thick, sickening layer of stress floating in my gut currently. I cant seem to push past it. I'm waiting for a phone call back from the dentist to tell me if they will let me do a payment plan. Until I know, I dont think the stress will go away. Once I have an idea of the plan, I will feel better about it. After this, the actual terrifying procedure will seem like nothing.
Things are not as bad as they seem. I cant seem to wrap my head around that though. I'm not dying. I'm not in that much pain. And its just money. I'll have enough eventually. So why cant I just be happy that its going to be a beautiful weekend and I dont have a damn thing planned? I get to relax.
Fellow followed bloggers? Yeah.
I'm the type of person who is weirded out, wigged out, freaked out by the most random things. When it comes to my health, it get freaked out when something goes wrong.
For instance, Wednesday afternoon at lunch time, I broke a tooth.
I broke. A tooth.
I was chewing my sandwich and my tooth just broke off.
My first reaction was panic, quickly followed by denial. This did not just happen! It's a dream! Wake up! But alas, it was not a dream. A hunk of one of my molars is gone. Well not gone. Its probably still in my truck somewhere after I dropped it when my hands went numb.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a fuzzy, nauseating mood.
Thursday morning, I went to the dentist, where I was given a hoard of good and bad news. The good news is, they can probably fix it. The bad news? The cost to fix my mouth will run me around $7000, on the high side. If they dont have to do a root canal on my broken tooth, then it will be more like $5500. Ish.
I left the dentist office and before I even reached my truck to drive to work, I burst into tears. The panic of knowing that I had 6 hours worth of dental work ahead of me. (The dentist is one of my greatest fears. I'd rather fly on a plane than go to the dentist. Those of you who know me will understand the power of that statement.) The fear of knowing that I don't have $7000 sitting in the bank to spend on my teeth. Then once those feelings had been dampened down, the sheer shame of feeling like I was going to disappoint Red. We have so many dreams and goals together. $7000 would surely shatter them all.
I was only able to make it through about 3.5 hours of work yesterday. I was so worked up over the entire thing that I hadnt eaten since my tooth had broken, which was over 24 hours. I finally went home and took a nap. Then Red came home and we talked about it. And he assured me that none of the things that we are planning for are more important than getting myself healthy. He's so amazing.
Today I feel okay. There is a thick, sickening layer of stress floating in my gut currently. I cant seem to push past it. I'm waiting for a phone call back from the dentist to tell me if they will let me do a payment plan. Until I know, I dont think the stress will go away. Once I have an idea of the plan, I will feel better about it. After this, the actual terrifying procedure will seem like nothing.
Things are not as bad as they seem. I cant seem to wrap my head around that though. I'm not dying. I'm not in that much pain. And its just money. I'll have enough eventually. So why cant I just be happy that its going to be a beautiful weekend and I dont have a damn thing planned? I get to relax.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Distressed is Distressing
For me, anyways.
I've been a big fan of blogging diy'ers for some time. To the point where they inspired me to do a handful of my own projects, most of which turned out wonderfully!
You recall the bedroom makeover:
I've been a big fan of blogging diy'ers for some time. To the point where they inspired me to do a handful of my own projects, most of which turned out wonderfully!
You recall the bedroom makeover:
Which lead to the home-made headboard:
The hutch makeover:
And the Ottoman Recover:
I had great fun with each and every one of the projects I've tackled. And all of them were inspired by other bloggers who DIY on a daily basis.
I don't like change enough to want to be changing things so frequently, which is why all of these projects were so spaced apart, and the reason that this blog will never become 'Musings of a Minnesota DIYer'. That's just not how I roll.
My vision is turning onto my furniture at home. Most of it, dressers, the coffee table, etc, is older and hand me downs from siblings when I was 18. Much of the pieces are solid wood. I've been seeing the results people are getting with some sanding (okay, a lot of sanding) and some primer and paint or stain. And I'm getting excited about it.
However... and I'm probably going to get kicked for saying this, it really bums me out when people purposefully 'distress' a piece after they have spent hours or even days refurbing it. I guess I am not seeing the magic that others are seeing in finished distressed pieces. To me, they just look older and spookier. And dirty. Distressing gives them a very dirty look.
It's distressing. Get it? But seriously.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Resist the Finnius
LOOK at this baby!
Yeah. Resist him. It's okay, I'll give you a few seconds to try.
Ha, FAILED! Just like I knew you would.
Oh, I've totally got faith in you. But just not on this subject.
Nobody resists Baby Finnius.
Nobody resists Baby Finnius.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
It's Different This Time...
I don't expect anybody else to understand my passion for dogs and rescue. When 'it' found me, it gobbled me up whole and it will never spit me out. And if it did, I would never be whole again.
But I struggle with it because nobody else understands. It's most difficult being in love with a man who just doesn't get it either. Red isn't a dog person, which is unfortunate because it's a constant source of tension between us.
When I adopted my dogs, there was something there. There was a feeling about the dog that brought about an understanding that that dog was to be mine. It's a specific emotion, and I've never had it for any dog other than my own. Jake, Frankie and Kirby. Maggie is Red's dog... I didnt have a feeling about her for me. I had a feeling about her for Red though. I knew the day they met that she was his. Yeah, we went through 2 more adoptions and returns before Red finally realized it for himself.
But I struggle with it because nobody else understands. It's most difficult being in love with a man who just doesn't get it either. Red isn't a dog person, which is unfortunate because it's a constant source of tension between us.
When I adopted my dogs, there was something there. There was a feeling about the dog that brought about an understanding that that dog was to be mine. It's a specific emotion, and I've never had it for any dog other than my own. Jake, Frankie and Kirby. Maggie is Red's dog... I didnt have a feeling about her for me. I had a feeling about her for Red though. I knew the day they met that she was his. Yeah, we went through 2 more adoptions and returns before Red finally realized it for himself.
Jake is my soul. He's the driving force behind the strength of my passion for rescue. He is the reason that I took the path that brought me to where I am today. Without him, I fear where I might be.
Frankie is my heart. She sprouted something in my heart that is so huge that is sometimes overwhelms. She makes me laugh, she makes me cry. She's amazing. And she has eyes only for me. Non-dog people just dont understand the beautiful power in that.
Kirby is my love. He's a clown and a fool. He keeps me grounded and slows me down when I push my life too quickly. And he constantly reminds me of why I love dogs in the first place. Kirby will not be pushed, and thats what makes me a better dog owner.
This past weekend, Kirby, Frankie and I travelled south to Napervilla, IL for a frisbee comp. We brought back with us 5 Aussies who were facing death. Konrad, Babaloo, Finn, Aubrey....
And Smoke.
This past weekend, Kirby, Frankie and I travelled south to Napervilla, IL for a frisbee comp. We brought back with us 5 Aussies who were facing death. Konrad, Babaloo, Finn, Aubrey....
And Smoke.
Smoke is my light. And he should be mine. The minute Smokey stepped off the transport on Saturday and I wrapped my arms around him, he was mine. He didnt leave my side all weekend. We were bonded instantly. And last night when I had to say goodbye to him and send him with his foster mom, it was like the light went out. I've been sad since he left me. I have tears in my eyes when I see the pictures I took of him.
Smoke is meant to be mine. I know it. He knows it. It breaks my heart that I cannot have him simply because my love isn't a dog person. I feel blue.
Smoke is meant to be mine. I know it. He knows it. It breaks my heart that I cannot have him simply because my love isn't a dog person. I feel blue.
Its so dark without my Smokey Boy.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Booted
I've been booted out of two of my favorite sleepings spots.
Next to Red
Next to Red
And in the hotel beds when travelling for disc dog comps.
All because the dogs have taken over.
Fine, I'll just sleep on the floor. Or order a cot from room service.
Yeesh.
Fine, I'll just sleep on the floor. Or order a cot from room service.
Yeesh.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Orange Positives
It's storm season. No point in going into denial over it. I've been in 4 tornado warnings so far this year, 2 of which while I was camping. Outside. In a tent.
That was fun.
But while I can bitch and whine and complain all I want (and I can, because I said I can) there is one upside to these storms....
That was fun.
But while I can bitch and whine and complain all I want (and I can, because I said I can) there is one upside to these storms....
The beauty that follows is almost impossible.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Colorado Countdown
The countdown to the Colorado Canine Challenge has begun...
This glorious image, taken by me last CCC as I walked into the Colorado mountains to whoop some mountain disc golf butt.
Yeah, except those mountains and the disc golf actually kicked my ass, so that I was forced to spend the rest of the evening on the hotel patio drinking beer. Mountain disc golf will do that to ya...
Leaving in... 20 days baby!
Yeah, except those mountains and the disc golf actually kicked my ass, so that I was forced to spend the rest of the evening on the hotel patio drinking beer. Mountain disc golf will do that to ya...
Leaving in... 20 days baby!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
...And Again
Actually I did two things... again. You'll notice that I got sick of my blog there for a while. I kept changing it and I just wasn't happy. So I abandoned it completely. Totally and without remorse. But then I started missing it. And you. So I got rid of all the color and I'm happy again!
Apparently I'm just not a colorful person. Wonder what that means.
I also took on more dogs. Again. But not just any dogs.
Aussie Dogs!
Apparently I'm just not a colorful person. Wonder what that means.
I also took on more dogs. Again. But not just any dogs.
Aussie Dogs!
This is Pax. He's a 5 month old black tri Aussie boy. I love him.
And Molly.
Molly is a 7 month old black tri female Aussie. She's a lover, not a fighter.
And her brother Tommy
Tommy is Molly's brother, also 7 months old. He's a blue merle beauty! Tommy broke his leg last week before he came to me. He underwent emergency surgery to repair it. He will now have to wear the cone and the cast for the next 9 days, as well as be on mandatory crate rest.
Tommy is not a happy camper right now. Not because he's in pain. But because he is so Aussie that being crated and unable to move for so long is beginning to drive him insane.
In other news, baby Lyric was adopted by a wonderful couple!
And his mama, Reese, will likely be adopted by her foster parents. They have renamed her Betty and they just love her. Crossing my paws that they keep her! She's got a perfect life with them. I mean, who wouldnt want to spend their weekends at a lake cabin?
Anyways. I'm back. I missed my blog. I can't abandon it. I just love it too much.
Peace Out
Em
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Oops, I Did It Again
I took on another foster dog.
Um, I mean dogs. As in more than one. More than two. More than three actually.Reese is a 2 or 3yo Husky/Lab/Coonhound mix. Probably. Maybe?
Luckily for Reese, somebody was watching out for her and intervened before any more damage could be done. But it didn't stop there. They pulled her and her pups out of the filth. But they still had nowhere to go. Something about this picture grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I responded and offered to take them. All of them.
Sunday after our Pawsitive Vybe training camp, I drove to Iowa to pick them up and bring them home.
Oh, what was Red's reaction to this little family's arrival? Use your imagination.
No, he was fine with it. He even named the puppies for me! He's always been better at it than I have. The black tri boy is 'Lyric', the darker red boy is 'Sosa' and the buckskin boy is 'Hooch'.
And Reese played with a frisbee last night. Like chase and tug and the whole bit. Shhhhhh.... *wink*
No, he was fine with it. He even named the puppies for me! He's always been better at it than I have. The black tri boy is 'Lyric', the darker red boy is 'Sosa' and the buckskin boy is 'Hooch'.
And Reese played with a frisbee last night. Like chase and tug and the whole bit. Shhhhhh.... *wink*
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Kitten
I have a kitten.
Well he's like 9 years old. But I call him Kitten. Or Kitteh. Or Mufasa the Mighty Lion.
He likes that last one.
Well he's like 9 years old. But I call him Kitten. Or Kitteh. Or Mufasa the Mighty Lion.
He likes that last one.
Sylvester can be a sweet cat. He's 20 pounds of lazy, orange nonsense.
Yeah, I said it.
I love his pretty green eyes.
I love his pretty green eyes.
Oh, hi Kitten. You big, mightly lion, you...
And then he's all sweet and cuddley and soft... He does this on purpose.
It's a set up.
Because as soon as your hand gets into position to pet his soft fur....
And then he's all sweet and cuddley and soft... He does this on purpose.
It's a set up.
Because as soon as your hand gets into position to pet his soft fur....
WHAM!
He's trying to chew your hand off.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Vanilla Beans
Ever heard of 'em?
I guess if I honestly think about it, the only personal reference to them that I can think of is Vanilla Bean lotion. And then, I just thought it was a fancy name for it. I didnt realize that vanilla came from actual beans. I thought it came from those fancy little Watson's bottles.
What?
Don't look at me in that tone.
I'm baking a bunch of goodies for a bake sale tomorrow night. I decided that since you dont really see scones at bake sales, I would give them a try. So I turned to the only woman I know who can make anything with perfection. Including scones. P-Dub.
I'm going to take a crack at her Vanilla Bean Scones recipe. I've got everything I need. Now... It's time to bake.
What?
Don't look at me in that tone.
I'm baking a bunch of goodies for a bake sale tomorrow night. I decided that since you dont really see scones at bake sales, I would give them a try. So I turned to the only woman I know who can make anything with perfection. Including scones. P-Dub.
I'm going to take a crack at her Vanilla Bean Scones recipe. I've got everything I need. Now... It's time to bake.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Time Again
It's that time again. The time when I am bored with my blog and I am going to make some changes.
I'm sorry. Please don't go away. I promise you'll like it!
And plus it's pouring rain outside.
And plus it's Friday.
And plus it's my blog and I can do whatever I want with it.
I'm sorry. Please don't go away. I promise you'll like it!
And plus it's pouring rain outside.
And plus it's Friday.
And plus it's my blog and I can do whatever I want with it.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Pibbleless
My home is now pibbleless.
My emotions are on the fence.
My emotions are on the fence.
On one hand, when Annie left with her new parents, I felt the relief of having only my own amazing pets left. But on the other hand, I will miss her. I dont want her to come back! But I do miss her. She kept me busy. And she was the best kisser.
I'm not sure how to explain how easy it was this morning to let my own dogs out without having to fight with a long line and water buckets and all of the extra stuff needed for Annie. Annie leaving was almost like 3 dogs leaving. Life just got really good and simple again!
I can tell you that I don't want another foster dog for a while. Just a while. Until the next hopeless soul comes across my doorstep (or inbox). Which will likely be soon. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the peace that comes with knowing that I'll be going home to my own.
Monday, April 26, 2010
I Like Big Butts
Alright, it's time to bring out the big guns.
Horses.
I like big butts and I cannot lie... Big horse butts that is. Because of who I grew up with, the only natural looking horses to me are the big, muscular Quarter Horses and Paints.
With big butts!
I haven't been on horseback in a number of years. Since my accident really. I still love them tremendously, and the longer I go without them, the more I realize how engrained they are in my soul. I have to have horses again, and luckily, Red understands this. And luckily, I understand that i cant keep a horse in the backyard. So I'll wait until we move somewhere where I can keep a horse in the yard. (Like a farm, guys. C'mon)
I did a lot of showing. Western Pleasure, mostly. I didn't love it like my friends did. But I did it and I learned a ton. I rode a horse who didnt much care of it either. Doc, the old cow horse. He hung in there with me through my show phases. But now from an 'outsider's' perspective, I'm beginning to lose my understanding of just where 'western pleasure' comes from.
Here is a video I pulled randomly from Youtube. Watch.
Horses.
I like big butts and I cannot lie... Big horse butts that is. Because of who I grew up with, the only natural looking horses to me are the big, muscular Quarter Horses and Paints.
With big butts!
What most of you don't know about me is that half of my life was spent on horseback. Dogs took over only after a riding accident that both shook me up and halted my equine 'career'. Who knows what the face of this blog would look like if that accident had never happened. I can almost guarentee you that I'd still only have Jake and rescue wouldn't even be in my vocabulary.
The barn I learned everything from is amazing. The crew, the trainer, they were like my second family. I, like most young girls, was horse crazy. But, unlike most young girls, I was given opportunities that most kids can only dream of. I was surrounded by people who wanted me to succeed in the horse world as much as I did.
The barn I learned everything from is amazing. The crew, the trainer, they were like my second family. I, like most young girls, was horse crazy. But, unlike most young girls, I was given opportunities that most kids can only dream of. I was surrounded by people who wanted me to succeed in the horse world as much as I did.
I haven't been on horseback in a number of years. Since my accident really. I still love them tremendously, and the longer I go without them, the more I realize how engrained they are in my soul. I have to have horses again, and luckily, Red understands this. And luckily, I understand that i cant keep a horse in the backyard. So I'll wait until we move somewhere where I can keep a horse in the yard. (Like a farm, guys. C'mon)
I did a lot of showing. Western Pleasure, mostly. I didn't love it like my friends did. But I did it and I learned a ton. I rode a horse who didnt much care of it either. Doc, the old cow horse. He hung in there with me through my show phases. But now from an 'outsider's' perspective, I'm beginning to lose my understanding of just where 'western pleasure' comes from.
Here is a video I pulled randomly from Youtube. Watch.
Now tell me that that doesn't look torturous to that horse? It's not torturous. Not really. But who decided that it should be natural for a horse to have such an insanely collected trot and lope/canter that I could walk faster on my own two feet than that horse would go at either gate?
That's why Doc and I were never good at it. We wanted to stretch our legs over open fields with nothing more than a halter and leadrope to guide us. And the more I see this, the more I'm happy that I dont do it anymore. I love going to the shows. I love helping to dress up the horses and I loved the training. I loved every single aspect of showing horses. Except for when it actually came time to walk into that ring. I hated it. Every minute of it. Maybe it's the lack of competitiveness in me. Maybe I just didn't want my horse to be as unhappy as I knew he would be for those 5 minutes in the ring.
I used to have this obsession with a horse called 'Kid Clu'. He was the biggest, most powerful stallion I'd ever seen. The buckskin above is his son. I like them BIG!
That's why Doc and I were never good at it. We wanted to stretch our legs over open fields with nothing more than a halter and leadrope to guide us. And the more I see this, the more I'm happy that I dont do it anymore. I love going to the shows. I love helping to dress up the horses and I loved the training. I loved every single aspect of showing horses. Except for when it actually came time to walk into that ring. I hated it. Every minute of it. Maybe it's the lack of competitiveness in me. Maybe I just didn't want my horse to be as unhappy as I knew he would be for those 5 minutes in the ring.
I used to have this obsession with a horse called 'Kid Clu'. He was the biggest, most powerful stallion I'd ever seen. The buckskin above is his son. I like them BIG!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Disc Dog & A Video!
If you've followed my blog for any period of time, you realize that dogs are pretty much the center of my life. Every blog entry mentions them to some degree. Last year I was struggling with the disappointment in realizing that my baby, Kirby, may never be a frisbee dog. And then with the help of my disc doggin friends, I overcame that started working Kirby in other things.
Kirby only really saw a frisbee once over the long, cold winter, on Christmas Day, when I shot the 'Aussie Christmas Disc' video. Then it was put away again for another handful of months.
Kirby and I completed beginner obedience and worked on crate games through the winter to keep us occupied. Minnesota winters suck. But in that time, Kirby and I formed a new relationship. Now he's so my baby boy.
Kirby was still showing a lot of distraction early in the spring when we started playing frisbee again. But I focused on Frankie and didn't push Kirby. I signed him up for agility and was completely to terms with my non-disc Aussie boy. He is good at just about everything else I throw his way.
Three weeks ago, we had a frisbee playdate with a few of the club members. I brought both Aussies just so that Kirby could have some fun and its just good socialization for him. I took him out when everybody had gone through once with their dogs, and he started catching throw after throw. He's never really caught them out of the air. Was this a one time thing? Is he just feeling good? Jealous because all of the other dogs are playing disc in front of him?
DK took him out a second time and again, he was catching and flipping. I was so excited! The next day, I took him into the backyard to try again, and was bummed to find that he was more interested in eating the new grass than playing frisbee with me. But that was fine. He had a blast at the playdate.
Last weekend, Kirby made his disc doggin debut. It was his first comp, and he played well enough that it was worth it for him to go out and have some fun. Even if he wasnt taking it seriously, he still is clearly having a blast when he plays. He's such a dork. Even DK commented on what a doofus he was, but that he was having fun. That's all that matters anyways, right?
But interestingly enough, he never got distracted.
In the past couple of weeks, we've been building it up. He is less distracted now and seems to want to play. And his eye/mouth coordination is finally matured enough that he can jump and catch them from mid air. He makes me think of Kai, a black bi Aussie of Jason and Andrea's in Florida. I've never met this couple, but I've followed their blog for months and they are Aussie and disc crazy like me. Plus, they are such sweet people and both have offered me so much advice. Kai was acting similar to Kirby in the beginning. Distracted, uninterested. Young. But they have since turned Kai into an up and coming rockstar. Their advice, paired with advice from my own club, is starting to pay off I think. I couldn't be happier!
I was of mind enough to shoot a short video. It's shakey because I'm trying to play and shoot at the same time. But you'll get the idea. Enjoy!
*disclaimer* I realize how rediculous I sound in this video. Don't judge. Kirby loves the baby talk.
Thank you and have a nice day.
Kirby only really saw a frisbee once over the long, cold winter, on Christmas Day, when I shot the 'Aussie Christmas Disc' video. Then it was put away again for another handful of months.
Kirby and I completed beginner obedience and worked on crate games through the winter to keep us occupied. Minnesota winters suck. But in that time, Kirby and I formed a new relationship. Now he's so my baby boy.
Kirby was still showing a lot of distraction early in the spring when we started playing frisbee again. But I focused on Frankie and didn't push Kirby. I signed him up for agility and was completely to terms with my non-disc Aussie boy. He is good at just about everything else I throw his way.
Three weeks ago, we had a frisbee playdate with a few of the club members. I brought both Aussies just so that Kirby could have some fun and its just good socialization for him. I took him out when everybody had gone through once with their dogs, and he started catching throw after throw. He's never really caught them out of the air. Was this a one time thing? Is he just feeling good? Jealous because all of the other dogs are playing disc in front of him?
DK took him out a second time and again, he was catching and flipping. I was so excited! The next day, I took him into the backyard to try again, and was bummed to find that he was more interested in eating the new grass than playing frisbee with me. But that was fine. He had a blast at the playdate.
Last weekend, Kirby made his disc doggin debut. It was his first comp, and he played well enough that it was worth it for him to go out and have some fun. Even if he wasnt taking it seriously, he still is clearly having a blast when he plays. He's such a dork. Even DK commented on what a doofus he was, but that he was having fun. That's all that matters anyways, right?
But interestingly enough, he never got distracted.
In the past couple of weeks, we've been building it up. He is less distracted now and seems to want to play. And his eye/mouth coordination is finally matured enough that he can jump and catch them from mid air. He makes me think of Kai, a black bi Aussie of Jason and Andrea's in Florida. I've never met this couple, but I've followed their blog for months and they are Aussie and disc crazy like me. Plus, they are such sweet people and both have offered me so much advice. Kai was acting similar to Kirby in the beginning. Distracted, uninterested. Young. But they have since turned Kai into an up and coming rockstar. Their advice, paired with advice from my own club, is starting to pay off I think. I couldn't be happier!
I was of mind enough to shoot a short video. It's shakey because I'm trying to play and shoot at the same time. But you'll get the idea. Enjoy!
*disclaimer* I realize how rediculous I sound in this video. Don't judge. Kirby loves the baby talk.
Thank you and have a nice day.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Every Cry at Work?
I have. Usually it's over an animal.
This time, it was over an animal.
Next time... it will likely be over an animal. And animal that I couldn't save. An animal that I can't save. An animal that I have no room for. And animal, likely a dog, that nobody will save.
Don't watch this video if you don't want to cry at work. I just did, and I cried. When the last clip came before the message, it was a feeling of devestation. I know this stuff goes on, but to watch it and have it embedded in my memory doesn't help.
This is why I do dog rescue. This is why I will never stop.
This time, it was over an animal.
Next time... it will likely be over an animal. And animal that I couldn't save. An animal that I can't save. An animal that I have no room for. And animal, likely a dog, that nobody will save.
Don't watch this video if you don't want to cry at work. I just did, and I cried. When the last clip came before the message, it was a feeling of devestation. I know this stuff goes on, but to watch it and have it embedded in my memory doesn't help.
This is why I do dog rescue. This is why I will never stop.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Scream Like Banshee
Dogs Deserve Better. They got me into this mess. I never did dog rescue prior to DDB. I blame them!
No, I don't blame them for anything. The rescue's efforts are for a cause that I believe in and feel very strongly about. I don't believe in 'outside dogs'. You can't tell me that a dog would prefer to sit outside chained to a mudhole than be inside sleeping in front of your fireplace.
Anyways, don't get me started on that rant. I've fostered dozens and dozens of dogs for DDB in the past years. And every single one of them posed some sort of challenge for me. There have been many different occassions where I could do nothing but sit on the steps and cry while my foster dogs turned into tazmanian devils and wreaked havoc on my home and my relationships. There have been so many times where I felt that giving up was my only option. Throw in the towel. Toss in the sponge. Be done.
And even today there are always tiny flickers of time where I question how much longer I can put myself through this. Fostering dogs is difficult. Fostering dogs who have only known life on a chain is near impossible. There is nothing easy about it.
So the founder of our lovely rescue wrote a book. Tamira Ci Thayne, also known as Tammy Grimes, knows as well as any of us (or even better) the kinds of difficulties these dogs pose to their foster families. So she kept a diary of a month when she had a foster dog named Banshee. And she sent us a copy. And I started reading it last night.
And it's like she is speaking right to me! It's as though she read my mind as I tossed away yet another $75 crate that my foster dog tore apart and she responded... through the book.
Scream Like Banshee. It's an absolute must read for people who foster dogs for rescue. Or even for people who own dogs who give them 'guff' every once and a whlie. It really helps to put things into perspective. I'm only a few chapters in and with every single page I find myself saying 'Yes! That's exactly how I feel!'
Scream Like Banshee. Get it. Right now! You won't regret it I promise.
No, I don't blame them for anything. The rescue's efforts are for a cause that I believe in and feel very strongly about. I don't believe in 'outside dogs'. You can't tell me that a dog would prefer to sit outside chained to a mudhole than be inside sleeping in front of your fireplace.
Anyways, don't get me started on that rant. I've fostered dozens and dozens of dogs for DDB in the past years. And every single one of them posed some sort of challenge for me. There have been many different occassions where I could do nothing but sit on the steps and cry while my foster dogs turned into tazmanian devils and wreaked havoc on my home and my relationships. There have been so many times where I felt that giving up was my only option. Throw in the towel. Toss in the sponge. Be done.
And even today there are always tiny flickers of time where I question how much longer I can put myself through this. Fostering dogs is difficult. Fostering dogs who have only known life on a chain is near impossible. There is nothing easy about it.
So the founder of our lovely rescue wrote a book. Tamira Ci Thayne, also known as Tammy Grimes, knows as well as any of us (or even better) the kinds of difficulties these dogs pose to their foster families. So she kept a diary of a month when she had a foster dog named Banshee. And she sent us a copy. And I started reading it last night.
And it's like she is speaking right to me! It's as though she read my mind as I tossed away yet another $75 crate that my foster dog tore apart and she responded... through the book.
Scream Like Banshee. It's an absolute must read for people who foster dogs for rescue. Or even for people who own dogs who give them 'guff' every once and a whlie. It really helps to put things into perspective. I'm only a few chapters in and with every single page I find myself saying 'Yes! That's exactly how I feel!'
Scream Like Banshee. Get it. Right now! You won't regret it I promise.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Australian Shepherds Are Not For Me, & a BSL Rant
It's Friday here at work, and it's caused me to stray once already from my work to look at some Aussie thing. It happens. Anyways, one Aussie thing led me to some other Aussie thing, and link by link, I ended up at this site about Australian Shepherds as a breed and how to decide if they are right for you.
As I read the long description about the breed charactaristics and all that, I decided that if I had read that prior to adopting my first Aussie, I might have changed my mind! I didn't like what they had to say about my breed at all. Aussies are not for me I guess.
So either that means that the people who write those 'is this breed right for you' things are whack jobs or writing based of their experiences, or my dogs are exceptions to the rule.
Who knows? I mean, I've only owned 2 Aussies. It's quite possible they aren't 'normal' for the breed standard. I don't have much experience outside of Frankie and Kirby. I didn't really care for this person telling me about my Aussies when he didn't know them. Maybe I should re-write the book, eh? Or maybe not.
And on that note, I still have Annie. Now, I've never owned a Pitbull before, as I'd said. And I guess while I've never supported BSL, it didn't mean as much to me as it does now. I have never agreed that people should punish a breed as a whole for the actions of just a few and it angered me that it was happening. But it was just part of rescue and I didn't think much more about it. Breed Specific Legislation, or BSL, started really making my blood boil once I'd joined the disc dog club. Wallace and the other Pits I've met through the club have made me even more passionate about the breed than I ever was, and now that I have Annie, I can feel myself bristle everytime I'm walking her and someone gives us an accusing stare or crosses to the other side of the street.
I'm becoming defensive and protective of her the longer I have her. I live with her. I feed her. I play with her and walk her and train her and I get to spend every spare minute I have with her. How dare anybody else judge her based on news reports and accusations and the actions of idiot owners. This 'menace to society' kisses me good morning every single day. She wiggles her whole body when Josh or I walk in the door. She's well mannered and sweet and just a dream to work with. She has less problems than the majority of my foster dogs in the past. This Pitbull has taught me a valuable lesson in the time I've had her. If I didnt have a cat and Josh were a little more lienient, Annie would not leave me. I'm in love with her. And I no longer feel like I can take this BSL fight laying down. America is screwing up a brillient, hard-working dog. It breaks my heart to think that someone might want to put Annie down based on the actions of a famous NFL player. Or a backyard dog fighter. Or an idiot business owner using her as a guard dog.
Aussies & Pits. Oh I just heart them! (And Labs and Corgis too) :o)
As I read the long description about the breed charactaristics and all that, I decided that if I had read that prior to adopting my first Aussie, I might have changed my mind! I didn't like what they had to say about my breed at all. Aussies are not for me I guess.
So either that means that the people who write those 'is this breed right for you' things are whack jobs or writing based of their experiences, or my dogs are exceptions to the rule.
Who knows? I mean, I've only owned 2 Aussies. It's quite possible they aren't 'normal' for the breed standard. I don't have much experience outside of Frankie and Kirby. I didn't really care for this person telling me about my Aussies when he didn't know them. Maybe I should re-write the book, eh? Or maybe not.
And on that note, I still have Annie. Now, I've never owned a Pitbull before, as I'd said. And I guess while I've never supported BSL, it didn't mean as much to me as it does now. I have never agreed that people should punish a breed as a whole for the actions of just a few and it angered me that it was happening. But it was just part of rescue and I didn't think much more about it. Breed Specific Legislation, or BSL, started really making my blood boil once I'd joined the disc dog club. Wallace and the other Pits I've met through the club have made me even more passionate about the breed than I ever was, and now that I have Annie, I can feel myself bristle everytime I'm walking her and someone gives us an accusing stare or crosses to the other side of the street.
I'm becoming defensive and protective of her the longer I have her. I live with her. I feed her. I play with her and walk her and train her and I get to spend every spare minute I have with her. How dare anybody else judge her based on news reports and accusations and the actions of idiot owners. This 'menace to society' kisses me good morning every single day. She wiggles her whole body when Josh or I walk in the door. She's well mannered and sweet and just a dream to work with. She has less problems than the majority of my foster dogs in the past. This Pitbull has taught me a valuable lesson in the time I've had her. If I didnt have a cat and Josh were a little more lienient, Annie would not leave me. I'm in love with her. And I no longer feel like I can take this BSL fight laying down. America is screwing up a brillient, hard-working dog. It breaks my heart to think that someone might want to put Annie down based on the actions of a famous NFL player. Or a backyard dog fighter. Or an idiot business owner using her as a guard dog.
Aussies & Pits. Oh I just heart them! (And Labs and Corgis too) :o)
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Kirby Agility
It's official. I've finally gotten off my lazy bum and signed Kirby up for agility class. We finished obedience late last year and I never got around to following up with agility. Partially because I didnt want to drive, and partially because I refused to let go of my dream of Kirby becoming a frisbee dog.
I have since let go of that dream and I'm moving on. For Kirby's sake. Kirby is, however, making his disc doggin debut this weekend. And not because I'm forcing him... Well, I mean I am putting him into my truck and driving his ass on up to the comp... But thats not forcing him. I'm doing it because since I've given up my Kirby disc dream, he's actually come out of his shell more and his disc game has improved tremendously. The other weekend at our indoor playdate, Kirby was catching long throw after long throw, all four feet off the ground, spinning around and bringing them back. He was flipping and spinning and I was shocked and impressed. I've since tried him outside with only about half the success, but Kirby is easily distractable outside. His distraction? New grass. How annoying. He stops mid flight and chews on grass.
Whatever. I am happy that Kirby will play just enough to have some fun on the disc field at these comps. If he shows me that it's just not his thing or that he's not enjoying it, we'll stop. In the meantime, I have high hopes for agility. He's agile, athletic, smart and highly food motivated. And he did extremely in his obedience class with the clicker method. So that's the route we'll go.
We start in about three and a half weeks! This will mostly be me learning cues and Kirby being introduced to the obsticals. I think he'll have great fun. He likes to learn and seems to enjoy working things out. Agility will keep him busy enough. Cross your fingers for us!
I have since let go of that dream and I'm moving on. For Kirby's sake. Kirby is, however, making his disc doggin debut this weekend. And not because I'm forcing him... Well, I mean I am putting him into my truck and driving his ass on up to the comp... But thats not forcing him. I'm doing it because since I've given up my Kirby disc dream, he's actually come out of his shell more and his disc game has improved tremendously. The other weekend at our indoor playdate, Kirby was catching long throw after long throw, all four feet off the ground, spinning around and bringing them back. He was flipping and spinning and I was shocked and impressed. I've since tried him outside with only about half the success, but Kirby is easily distractable outside. His distraction? New grass. How annoying. He stops mid flight and chews on grass.
Whatever. I am happy that Kirby will play just enough to have some fun on the disc field at these comps. If he shows me that it's just not his thing or that he's not enjoying it, we'll stop. In the meantime, I have high hopes for agility. He's agile, athletic, smart and highly food motivated. And he did extremely in his obedience class with the clicker method. So that's the route we'll go.
We start in about three and a half weeks! This will mostly be me learning cues and Kirby being introduced to the obsticals. I think he'll have great fun. He likes to learn and seems to enjoy working things out. Agility will keep him busy enough. Cross your fingers for us!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Exhausted
Annie joined me and my family yesterday for an Easter get together. She met a lot of new people and dogs and she did wonderfully.
We took her hiking with us, along with Frankie and Maggie and my sister's two little dogs.
This is what happened when we arrived home last night.
She wedged herself into a small dog's bed.
Actually, this is what happened when we got home last night.
We took her hiking with us, along with Frankie and Maggie and my sister's two little dogs.
This is what happened when we arrived home last night.
She wedged herself into a small dog's bed.
Actually, this is what happened when we got home last night.
I love it when this happens!
Friday, April 9, 2010
No Means NO
Unless of course it's in regards to an animal in need. Then 'No' means 'Of course we can take your animal and find it a new home!"
It's no secret in my small farming town that we do dog rescue. We've had people leave dogs on our doorstep before, and it will likely happen again as long as we live here. But last night we had a first.
Our neighbor lady is a sweetheart. They have dogs of their own and they occasionally leave us bags of dog biscuts hanging on our doorknob for the rescue dogs we have. Last night there was a knock on the back door. As I approached the door, I saw through the window that it was the neighbor lady, and she was holding the most gorgeous kitten. My hand touched the doorknob right as I saw the cat. My already knew where this visit was going and began shouting "RUUUUN! Do not answer that door young lady!" But, pretty kitty! I was drawn. She knew I was home anyways. So I opened the door.
She explained that they had found her curled up on their front porch that morning and the bus stop kids were carrying her around. I started to give her a firm but polite 'NO', but instead I found myself hollaring for Red. I couldn't say no. So he would have to be the meany and say no. But Red, my knight in shining armour, tells me that the kitty is cute. And agrees that we can take her for a few days while we find a rescue for her. So much for helping me say no.
So whatever. We have a new cat for the time being. I've dubbed her 'Rat Cat' after the giant Ragdoll cat we had as a little girl. he probably wasnt that giant. But when I was 4 years old, he seemed pretty effing huge to me! The RatCat in my childhood brain remembers only a beautiful sable Ragdoll cat that was half as big as I was.
And she's quite the talker. Red looooves that. Not.
It's no secret in my small farming town that we do dog rescue. We've had people leave dogs on our doorstep before, and it will likely happen again as long as we live here. But last night we had a first.
Our neighbor lady is a sweetheart. They have dogs of their own and they occasionally leave us bags of dog biscuts hanging on our doorknob for the rescue dogs we have. Last night there was a knock on the back door. As I approached the door, I saw through the window that it was the neighbor lady, and she was holding the most gorgeous kitten. My hand touched the doorknob right as I saw the cat. My already knew where this visit was going and began shouting "RUUUUN! Do not answer that door young lady!" But, pretty kitty! I was drawn. She knew I was home anyways. So I opened the door.
She explained that they had found her curled up on their front porch that morning and the bus stop kids were carrying her around. I started to give her a firm but polite 'NO', but instead I found myself hollaring for Red. I couldn't say no. So he would have to be the meany and say no. But Red, my knight in shining armour, tells me that the kitty is cute. And agrees that we can take her for a few days while we find a rescue for her. So much for helping me say no.
So whatever. We have a new cat for the time being. I've dubbed her 'Rat Cat' after the giant Ragdoll cat we had as a little girl. he probably wasnt that giant. But when I was 4 years old, he seemed pretty effing huge to me! The RatCat in my childhood brain remembers only a beautiful sable Ragdoll cat that was half as big as I was.
She's really a sweetheart. She can't be more than a year old, if that. And she's teeny tiny. Like 7lbs tiny.
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