Posts Tagged “Animals”

There’s been a lot going on in my head lately and that’s why I’ve been slacking on the blog/Entrecard lately.

My dd sent me some cool pics so I thought I’d pop one up real quick until I get a chance to get more time on here.


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I have a weakish stomach. Certain body fluids really make me cringe, gag, dry heave, etc. Like my husband or kids or anyone else blowing their nose. Or seeing someone spit. Bloody noses.

If it’s my kid (a little one) it’s easier. But once they hit 3-4 yrs old, it’s over for me. And if it’s someone else’s kid, forget it.

Pets really get me, too. I can’t tolerate cat vomit (rare, but it happens). My poor kids have to take care of it. Oddly enough, I prefer to clean up cat poop than vomit.

Dog is the worse, though. He’s pretty gross.  Cuz it comes out gooey and he licks it up as he’s throwing it up…..’scuze me while I dry heave…..*gag*

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My dd and a friend are doing an AEP (advanced enrichment program) project together this year for school…their subject is the local animal shelter/pound. So today the girl and her mom and dd and I went to the shelter to get information and statistics.

While we were there, I told the lady we were interviewing about the dog we picked up and asked for rescue organizations’ numbers. She asked me some questions as well, and I told her about the dog.

She looked at me, kinda shocked, and said, “I think it was Monday when someone called; they said they had a Corgi about 7 years old they needed to get rid of. But we’re not taking in anymore animals until after the new year. I wonder if it could be the same dog! Is yours a male, neutered?”

I told her that it was and I guessed his age to be about 8. So, 7 or 8….makes sense! It must be the same one; maybe the people just didn’t want to take care of it anymore and dumped him off, then my dh happened to be there and got him! Crazy, huh??

Anyway, one of the numbers she gave me was to a Welsh Corgi Rescue group. I called that group up, told that lady my story and she said  she or another woman would arrange a pick up for the dog this weekend.  So we may have a place for this doggie to go to soon! Yay! I’m happy he’ll be going somewhere he can find a home that’s right for him.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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Ok, another “Are you kidding me???” moment! This one is serious though. I was totally shocked and appalled at the hypocracy of PETA, a supposed animal-saving organization.

Read this.

I’m not much of a soapbox person, but really, this is one of those moments. News of this needs to be spread. Something’s got to be done. This needs to be brought out in the open and talked about!

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So….can anyone look at this and still think they have the worst job??

I didn’t think so.

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You know those stories of dog-saving-owner? Check this out.

An Arizona German shepherd named Buddy has called 911 3 times! His owner has seizures, so he was trained to call for help.  His owner Joe Stalnaker adopted him at 8 weeks from a Michigan Paws with a Cause, an organization that trains for special-needs owners. The dog is now 18 months old, and can push the programmed buttons until a 911 operator picks up. He then squeaks and makes noises to the operator and they send the ambulance.

I’d like to think so, but I don’t think our Squeaky Chicken would be man enough to do something like this. He’s a good dog and keeps an eye on the kids, but I think when it comes to the phone, he’s rather clueless. Maybe training him will be my new year’s resolution in January…

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That Evil Furball….So we ended up taking her back to the vet, who put 5 staples in her to keep her put together.

She’s chewed out 2 1/2. How does she do this??? Doesn’t it hurt?

Guess we’ll have to duct tape her after all.

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Can you just feel the sarcasm dripping down my page?? It’s there I assure you.

This morning I woke up to rain. That’s fine, I love it when it rains.  But not when I have things to do.

I came downstairs and looked at Evil Furball’s stitches…and saw her intestines. Nice…gotta call the vet and get her restitched. But first, I had to get my car to the dealer for it’s first new-car maintenance done.  We took both cars, (he drove his, I drove mine) because the plan was to just leave it there and have it picked up later.  Then the dealer told us it would only be an hour…so then what?? We went for a nice country drive. Then Pierce had to go potty, so we drove back into town and stopped at a store. Paul and Pierce came back out with breakfast (we hadn’t had time to eat) of Nutter-Butters and M&M’s. They were peanut, so at least Pierce had something healhty.

Anyway, we picked up my car and came home. I called the vet…no answer. So what am I supposed to do…use duct tape on the cat??? Grrrr….

Oh, and to top it off (can you tell I’m a bit ornery??), by back is so sore! I worked out yesterday, doing things I hadn’t done in a year…I forgot I had muscles back there.

And the boy just got his head stuck in the kitty crate.

This is definitely the makings of a migraine.

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😀 Knew you’d look.

I picked up our kitten, Jasmine, aka Evil Furball, up from the vet yesterday. As rotten as she can be, I feel bad for her! We had her spayed, declawed, feline leukemia tested, and 4 shots done. She’s up and walking, but not the happiest cat I’ve seen!

But we’ll all be better for it…she won’t get squirted for scratching the couches, poor little Dean won’t get his toes bitten, Squeaky Chicken won’t have his bed peed in anymore (hopefully), and Gab’s hands won’t look like she’s been playing with a barbed-wire fence.

This is the kitten Paul brought home from work. One of his coworkers came up to him and told him maintenance found 4 tiny kittens and were about to throw them away (heartless redneck hicks!!!). One was already dead from starvation. The coworker knew we’re animal-lovers, so she knew Paul would take one.   Jasmine  was almost 2 weeks old, judging from her eyes and walking (she wasn’t). We really didn’t think she’d make it…she was totally bony, you could feel every one. It was so sad! I put her in a cat bed next to me on my bed for the next few nights (so I could feed her at night) and every morning; I didn’t think she’d be alive each day. But she made it. I bottle-fed her for 4 weeks (5 or 6 times a day) then taught her to eat canned cat food, then dry. Squeaky Chicken taught her to drink out of a dish…I wasn’t about to do that. (He had to b/c the other 2 cats wouldn’t go near her. )

And now she’s about 6 months old and a very normal, healthy, wild kitten! It’s nice to have her home again.

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