Soft Feathers on a Duck

I was on Skype with my sister the other day, who lives in Germany & has an 18mo Saint Bernard… probably not the dog I would recommend to a first time dog owner with limited access to obedience classes, training supplies, & breed & training books. I’m sure all these things can be found in Germany… but my sister hasn’t come across them and hasn’t been able to get anything shipped to her from US suppliers like Petsmart, because it’s an APO. Anyway, she’s got this 120 pound dog she can no longer control, and she and her husband are at complete odds as far as how to manage it. I was giving her some suggestions and pointers that have worked for me, and thought… what the heck. It’s not like my blog doesn’t already go in seven directions at once, and decided I’d blog about my training efforts.

So far, the new additions to our crew are working out really well… The dogs are getting along remarkably well with each other, and have been great with the kids. Sassy is really warming up and starting to seek out attention, and Rico… well, he has love like an ocean for everybody. Slowly but surely, Sassy & Rico are learning the new house rules.

Training, I have to admit, has been going a little slow… in part because I’m not just training, I’m re-training… and not just one dog, but two, as this is the first time I’ve introduced two new dogs into the mix at once. Not to mention, I have three little helpers who want to chime in every time I speak to a dog… and now the dog in question has a variety of commands coming from all corners.

Wordless Wednesday

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

Cyndi’s House Rules for Four Legged Members

1. Mommy is a fan of the NILIF philosophy… Nothing In Life Is Free (I can see that your previous owners were swayed by your adorable faces and puppy dog eyes, but if you want a treat from me, you’re going to have to earn it)
2. Four legged’s are only allowed on furniture when invited by a two-legged (but be aware that invitation will NEVER include Mommy’s bed)
3. I am not swayed by table beggars (Sassy, laying your head in my lap and gazing up mournfully while I’m eating dinner is a good, but you’re wasting your time cuz that stuff doesn’t fly when it comes from one of the three other two-leggeds sitting at the table… and I birthed them)
4. Mommy prefers her arm in its socket (Rico, if you prefer to breathe during a walk, I suggest you do not dislocate my shoulder)
5. We do not eat table legs (Sassy, I know as well as the next girl that dieting is rought at times, but trust me… you are NOWHERE near starvation)
6. We do not mark territory on other pack members (Yes, Rico, I agree she should not have had her face all up in your stuff, but peeing on her nose was uncalled for; a growl or light nip would have done it)
7. We do not chew off each other’s collars (Sassy, again… stick to what’s in your dog dish)
8. DO NOT DROOL ON THE LAPTOP (Rico, you short out my cracktop and I will ban you from my lap)

a new chapter

It’s hard to even know where to start after my last blog, but first I want to thank everyone who offered comfort to my family and I after the loss of our dogs. I didn’t respond to wall posts or comments like I normally do, but I read them all and can’t tell you how much they meant to me.

The kids all slept with me Tuesday night… I sent the girls to Ro’s the next day, and Tyler and I tried to go through our regular day. As melodramatic as it sounds, I was finding it hard to breathe. When the tears overcame me, it wasn’t the dainty pretty cry. It was the snot blowing, leave your stomach muscles aching full on ugly bawling. Not a real attractive look at work, so I went home as soon as I could.

Doggie Doorbell

Once I got there, I remembered why I went to work in the first place. I didn’t want to be in my house without Roxie and Beau. I didn’t want to walk past Roxie’s kennel in the hallway. I didn’t want to look at Beau’s bed, or vacuum up the piles of hair he left behind. I didn’t want to go to my room because I would have to pass the the back door and think about how I hung that bell on the knob, and then with the power of clicker training, taught Roxie to ring it with her nose when she wanted to go outside. I didn’t want to remember all the times the first few weeks that she woke me up at three or four in the morning with that bell… not because she had to pee, but because she wanted a treat. She may have been a badass, but she was no dummy.

After coming home the next evening, Halle told me that Daddy had said he would get her another dog… which was well intentioned, but you all know what happens when Ro buys something. He always goes overboard (I say we need a van, he shows up with an Escalade). I could see him doing what he tried to do after Ramie died, and getting a puppy that would have me running home in the middle of the day and up in the middle of the night; but I could totally understand why he did it. Halle was in tears or on the verge of almost every time I looked at her. She told me,

I want the dogs back for my birthday. I know we can’t get OUR dogs back… but I want the dogs back.

 

Please wait at the Rainbow Bridge

When I got home from the girls’ bus stop yestereday morning, instead of pulling in and immediately closing the door with the remote like I usually do, I got out of the car and moved a couple things out of the garage for bulk trash pickup… one of those items being the airline grade kennel that Beau busted out of earlier this year. Like, literally… he popped the door right out, then broke Roxie out of hers. I gave up kenneling him after that (it was the second kennel he’d destroyed) and reinforces the door & all corners of Roxie’s kennel with zip ties.

After I put the items at the curb I headed inside, and closed the garage door from the wall switch and simultaneously opened the door into the house… Roxie was right on the other side and rushed past me so fast I couldn’t even get a hand on her… and as I stood there screaming Roxie NO and praying the garage door would close FASTER… she dodged under it. I’m standing there with the house door partly open (I’ve got one of those door stops at the bottom for when I’m carrying in groceries and it fell down) so while I’m slapping the wall switch trying to get the garage door up and clearly NOT THINKING about the door from the house not being fully closed, Beau damn near knocks me over. I couldn’t find them before I took Tyler to his bus stop, and drove around a little afterwards but there was no sign of them. I went on to work, not wanting to call my boss and tell her I was going to be late two days in a row because of my badass dogs.  Initially I wasn’t worried; half the time one of them gets out, the errant dog is waiting for me at the front door when I get home from looking for them. Both their collars have our home phone & full address AND my cell phone, and they’re super friendly. But as the day went on, there was no call.

Roxie: 30 SECONDS FROM FREEDOM

Roxie mastered a new skill about two weeks ago.  Yesterday morning, right after she jumped out of the yard & before I took a jaunt through the neighborhood that resulted in me being 15 minutes late to work, I thought to myself,

I bet it doesn’t take her more than 30 seconds to get over that wall from the time she gets out the back door.

Sadly, I was right.  The good news? She’ll jump back in… and stay in.

Live, from the kitchen…

Current mood: annoyed 

I’m in the kitchen multitasking… cooking dinner and on the phone with reservations to change Ro’s itinerary and check on the company’s policy on emergency travel for employees.  I’m holding patiently while Ms. Fabulous Reservations Agent it searching the policy (made me feel less dumb, I couldn’t find it either). 

 

Daddy’s Girl appears.

 

Momma, I am so tired of Princess.

 

Really, Daddy’s Girl?

Yes.  I am JUST SO TIRED of Princess.

Why are you tired of your sister?

Because I told her two times to clean up the poop.

Daddy’s Girl… what poop?

THE POOP.

Daddy’s Girl, where is the poop?

In you room.

Daddy’s Girl, can you show momma the poop?

O-tay…

Damn dog.  Anyone want a Shih Tzu?  Ms. Fab Res Agent declined as politely and professionally as one can while choking on laughter.

A must read… while your (ADHD) child is sleeping… (2006)

March 12, 2006 – Sunday 10:20 PM

A must read… while your (ADHD) child is sleeping… Current mood:  thankful Category: Life Celebrate! ADHD   NEWSLETTER 03.09.06   We love giving practical tips to help your children at home and in school, but I wanted to take a break this time from trying to figure everything out. Instead, I’m going to share something really personal (that my wife doesn’t like me sharing, but oh well).   In This Issue While Your Child Is Sleeping Camps on the Road Quick Tip—Love Like a Dog   Take a Fresh Look While Your Child is Sleeping I look at other people’s kids who are compliant, excel in school and are sailing through childhood. And I really like those kids, I do. At one point, I wanted a child like that and wished I had an easy kid at home. But now? I wrote the following one night after peeking in at my son sleeping. I encourage you to do the same. I hope you will discover some common feelings toward your child. ~~~~  I peek in at him late at night lying in bed, fast asleep, my no-longer-little guy sprawled out across his bed, long unruly mess of hair covering his face…and I smile. I smile because he is full of personality. He is so different than me in many ways, different than my expectations, different than the little boy I had always imagined. And for that I am grateful. He’s his own person, knows what he likes and doesn’t like. I look in at him, peaceful and innocent while he sleeps. The fight is gone and his little mind is resting. He’s gone full force for the last sixteen hours, he needs a break.  I like it that he pushes the limits, like it that he questions everything, because one day he’s going to do something spectacular. Along the way, he’s going to make some big mistakes, but he’s going to live large and dream large. Underneath the spunk and mouth is a heart not only lined with gold, but filled with it. It is large and feeling, and it wants to do good even when his impulses lead him astray at times. I think God must look down and confuse him with a little tornado. But I also think God looks down and likes what he has created, likes the little tornado who is growing into a man.   I think He sees Himself in my little boy, funny as that sounds. The part of God who is the Creator, who by the sheer force of His energy and being created life and all that is in the world. The part of God who was willing to step into humanity and persevere on a rugged cross because it would help people. The part of God who walked among men, largely misunderstood, often reviled because He was different and didn’t do things the way the rulers of His era thought they should be done.   But He kept going. Because He, too, had a mission. He didn’t care what others thought. His vision was larger than a mere thirty-three years on earth.   I think God must see Himself in the part that sometimes misses out on earthly things because he’s in tune with something deep inside another person. The part who remains an idealist even when the world around him is less than ideal. The part that isn’t afraid to look into eternity and see better things in all of us.   That is my son sleeping there. We fought each other until we couldn’t fight anymore. Until I realized that I was the one who needed to change, because I wasn’t going to change his nature. Perhaps he has been given to me so that I would change.   That is my son. He makes me angry sometimes, makes me frustrated. Then he makes me laugh, even smile in resignation. And as I look at him, he makes me cry. He is a wonderful creation. Through all the struggles, I can see the imprints of the Creator.   He is my son. He marches to the beat of a different drummer. Thank God.   QUICK TIP—LOVE LIKE A DOG Dogs make great pets for our kids, especially teens. Funny as it sounds, sometimes dogs are the only ones who “wag their tails” when our kids come around. Teens can talk to their dogs without judgment or fear, and the dogs always listen and give their love. Sometimes we need to love just like dogs J Thank You To each of you has invited us into your homes and families and lives, thank you for the trust. We do not take it lightly. Let us know how we may serve you.   Kirk and Anita Martin Founders, Celebrate!ADHD http://www.celebrateadhd.com/

A must read… while your (ADHD) child is sleeping… – CURLYGURL’s MySpace Blog | Cyndi–s Jewels

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Herbie’s still sputtering…

Right now, just making sure I don’t kill him is consuming a lot of time I should be spending keeping house.  There’s tons of stuff on mature sliders that contain warnings about hatchlings being illegal and their extremely high mortality rate as pets, but very little about how to keep a hatchling alive after your dumb ass buys one. I was online for hours last night because I didn’t think he’d really eaten since Thursday or Friday.  Sliders are supposed to be pigs, so I was really worried I was going to wake up to a dead turtle if I couldn’t get him to eat soon. On top of that, he wasn’t really basking.  He was just hovering in the shallow water of his reservoir most of the time, and seemed terribly lethargic in the deeper water. I had to sat Tyler and Halle down and explain, in terms they could understand, that turtles as small as Herbie are usually so sick they die within a few months. After realizing how very young he must be, I thought maybe he’s too young to feed in deep water.  So I tried feeding him both pellets and cucumber in a plastic container, but not a nibble.  So I threw in some whale krill that came in the turtle kit and is supposed to be an occasional treat for adult turtles.  No interest.  Eventually I piece together that a) it’s common for sliders to stop eating and have decreased activity for a couple days under stressful conditions (like moving to a new habitat or having a {well intentioned} giant hovering over your habitat) and b) hatchlings generally eat only animal protein and c) they may need to actually be in water to swallow.  So I threw some whale krill in some shallow water in his basking area, put him back in his tank, and walked away for a while.  When I checked on him later, he was tearing into it like nobody’s business.  This morning he was basking, and is swimming a lot more, and he’s actively swimming, rather than looking like he’s barely treading water. 

So to answer Ei’s question about his maintenance… Once he’s acclimated and healthy, he’ll require daily feedings through the hatchling and juvenile stage; as an adult will need to be fed every 2/3 days.  That’s not so bad, but he can’t live on ‘turtle food’ unless I want him to have a short life span.  I’ve learned that hatchlings are primarily carnivorous (which explains why he wasn’t eating the turtle pellets), but as an adult at least 50% of his diet should be vegetation, with animal protein and commercial food making up no more than 25% each.  I guess I’ll be saving salad and veggie scraps. The maintenance factor for his habitat is pretty high if I do the bare minimum as far as housing him goes, and has an inverse relationship to how extensive or elaborate of a habitat I create for him.  Right now he’s in a glass tank with a small filter.  I’ll probably need to change the water every 1-2 weeks… but if I feed him in another container and just replace part of the water on a weekly basis, I could keep his tank clean enough to only require monthly water changes.  However, the bigger he gets the messier he’ll be.  Unless I want to be draining a very, very big aquarium on a frequent basis, I’ll need to invest in some powerful filtration equipment.  If I keep him indoors, that is.

I’m assuming that the Phoenix Zoo doesn’t heat that whole pond, and I’ve read there are a few parks in LA that have thriving wild slider populations that have resulted from illegal dumping of unwanted pets.  So even though these turtles are ‘natives’ of the southeast, it appears that red-eared sliders can thrive in ’semi captivity’ in Arizona.  I’ve read a couple articles on creating outdoor habitats, and so far it seems that pond structures are considerably cheaper than aquariums and because they are softer, they’re actually better for a turtle than glass.  It looks like I could create an almost completely natural outdoor pond for considerably less and it wouldn’t be any more complicated than setting up a large aquarium, and once set up, would almost maintain itself.  With just a basic pond pump and some water plants, I would almost never need to change the water.  Having the pond outdoors would eliminate the need for any special lamps, and possibly not even require a submersible water heater.   I know that sounds like an awfully big project, but (assuming he lives and we want to keep him, which we may not have any other option, the few turtle rescues can’t keep up with the demand to rehome unwanted turtles) I think it might be the least expensive and lowest maintenance option, not to mention the most ideal habitat.  And not having a 40 to 100 gallon tank in my house would just be icing on the cake.  There is actually one section of yard on the side of my house that I have no idea what to do with… and one of my living room windows overlooks it, so I want to do something out there.  It’s not big enough for one of those jacaranda’s I love, and because of the way the property is graded for water run off (snort, snicker) I couldn’t put a flower or vegetable garden there… it’s even questionable whether I could grow pretty grass there.  It is, however, definitely big enough for either an above ground or sunken turtle pond.  The house and block wall would create three of four walls, and I could easily completely enclose it with one section of fencing to protect Herbie and Reggie/Ramie from each other. 

 via Herbie’s still sputtering… – CURLYGURL’s MySpace Blog | Cyndi–s Jewels.

Herbie, the family turtle

Sometimes I get a little too big for my britches. I know this about myself, and I know y’all know it about me too.  And in case I haven’t mentioned it, I appreciate that y’all love me enough to put up with it.  “It” being my tendency to get up on a soapbox, or two or three, about something I’m passionate about, and set my jaws into it like a bulldog. But there’s a thing about soapboxes, especially two or three soapboxes.  The bigger (or higher) they are, the harder you fall.  And oh, how the mighty have fallen. 

Some of you have been subject to my rants about responsible pet ownership. That when you commit to an animal, you commit to that animal for a lifetime, and that people would be doing themselves and their pets a favor by educating themselves before making that commitment.  About how many animals, adopted with the best of intentions, have a temperament or care requirements their people just didn’t bargain for…and how important it is to research the pet and know what they were originally bred for, what kind of personality they have, what level of care is required, as well as what health problems they are prone to.  And in that rant you probably heard me go on about ‘pet mills’ and ‘backyard breeders’ and how they are a major contributor to the number of animals that are euthenized in shelters.

Do you see what’s coming here?

So last Sunday Halle went out with LaTonya.  Not too long after they’d left, I got a phone call from LaTonya.

Can Halle have a $10 turtle?” LaTonya asks.

“Halle wants a turtle?” I ask in an amazed stupor.  Halle won’t even walk by a cricket in the hallway… I spend every monsoon escorting her to the toilet or her bedroom.Oh yes… she held it and everything.” LaTonya assures me.

Still confused, I inquire, “Well, what kind of turtle is it?”

“It’s just this little water turtle… the guy here says all he needs is a bowl and some gravel and water.”

“Oh… my friend Julie had a couple of those.  They’ve got round flat shells about an inch across right?”

So I sign up for this, so long as Halle understands it is a FAMILY TURTLE, because while I’m willing to take one turtle (which I believe is basically the equivalent of a highly interactive goldfish or beta), I’m not willing to get three.

Well, thank God for small slivers of insight. 

So they bring this thing home.  He’s cute as a button, and not much bigger. 

“Where are the directions?” I ask, a little horrified.

He just came with food, they tell me.

Well, where’d you get him?”  I ask, more than a little horrified.

“This guy was selling him on the corner of 7^th St. & Broadway.  Halle read the sign and wanted to go back and look,” LaTonya explains.

I’m thinking that’s probably not a good thing, but what’s done is done.  So we set this turtle up in a plastic shoebox with some rocks and water, and I make a note  myself to take the turtle to work with me on Friday.  We usually get sent home early so I’ll take him (or her?) over to the PetCo by my house and see if they can identify him.

Do you see what’s coming here? 

The week goes by and Halle finally chooses a name for the turtle:  Herbie.  So I now officially refer to the turtle as he, and am wondering if he should be a little more active because he seems to snooze a lot. 

Friday comes, and I put him in a little mini bread tin that came with a plastic cover which I poked holes into… I feel pretty ingenious.  Herbie hangs out at my desk, and spends a good part of the morning trying to get out of his mobile home.  I figure either we’re just not home at a time where he’s alert, or my driving really freaked him out.

So I get the OK to take off as soon as the operational requirements are taken care of, and Herbie and I head over to PetCo.  I head for the amphibians and must have looked clueless because help was promptly offered.

“Herbie needs a new habitat,” I say, and hold out the little bread tin.

“Oh, a red eared slider?” the associate replies.

I’m feeling buoyed by the fact that she has so quickly identified Herbie, thinking this is a sure sign that I have a nice run of the mill turtle and not some exotic turtle that’s going to cost me a fortune.

Do you see what’s coming here?

“Yes, just like these,” she says and gestures to a tank with several turtles that really don’t resemble my little button on legs and who, compared to Herbie, are gigantic.  Picture a horse jockey standing next to a pro basketball player.  And these aren’t even full grown; apparently, depending in part on the sex of the turtle, red-eared sliders can grow to be 12 inches long.

“Oh,” I said.  Cuz that’s about all I could think in that moment.  She asks me if I’ve been to the Phoenix Zoo, and when I indicated yes, she informs me that I’ve seen these full grown before.  There’s a lovely bridge over a pond that you cross to enter the zoo, and we always buy kettle corn before we leave to we can feed the turtles that sun themselves on the logs in the pond.  Those turtles, apparently, are also red eared sliders.

“It’s actually illegal to sell those when they’re under three inches long,” she informs me, and as the blood drains from my face she assures me, “Oh, it’s not illegal to OWN them, just to sell them.”

“Oh, OK,” I said, momentarily relieved.  “Just out of curiosity, why is that?”

Oh, yes.  Here it comes.   One hell of an education about red-eared sliders. 

Apparently, it’s illegal to sell them until they are three inches long because back in the seventies, there was a major problem with children contracting salmonella poisoning from dime store turtles.  The logic apparently being a) a four inch turtle is too big for a child to put in his/her mouth (eeewww), b) they are no longer tiny and cute and small enough for a fish bowl.  And this is important, because without proper filtration, aquatic turtles are much more likely to carry (among other bacteria and parasites) salmonella.  Salmonella can, in very rare situations, cause meningitis, and there have been a handful of cases where children have died after contracting salmonella from turtles kept in the exact living conditions that Mr. Backyard Breeder/Bootleg Turtle Seller says they should be kept in as he sold one to my daughter, who still has her thumb in her mouth half the damn time.

So, I ask this fountain of knowledge to show me what kind of tank I need.
She tells me she’d start out with a ten gallon tank; I could do five, but I’m going to need a ten eventually and the ten gallon tanks are actually cheaper anyway.  I gather up my courage and ask how big of a tank I’m eventually going to need, seeing as ten gallons was considered a ’starter.’

I’m not sure where I’m going to put a 40-plus gallon tank, which will probably be the minimum size adequate to house a mature slider.  I try really hard not to hyperventilate.

It’ll be a while before we get to that point.  I’ve got time to figure it out.

So I think my education is over, but no.  I finish Red Eared Slider 101 and move on to Aquatic Turtle 102.  I need a ‘water turtle kit’ which will include a filter, and among other things, drops to remove the chlorine from the tap water.  Because chlorine can kill aquatic turtles.  I also need a heat lamp and a special UV bulb to warm the basking area I need to create.  Herbie needs a place to sun himself and allow his shell to dry completely for several hours each day so that he doesn’t develop shell rot.  He also needs UVA/UVB rays, but rather than buy one of those $35 bulbs, I can just put him outside in the sun for about 15 minutes each day.  Now, the heat lamp might keep the water at the right temperature, but I’ll probably need a submersible aquarium heater.  I need gravel, and since I don’t relish the idea of looking for enough rocks of the right size to create a basking area, I also need a reservoir.  And a thermostat.  And a screen top, because Herbie will become quite a climber.

I think vile thoughts about Mr. Bootleg Turtle Seller as I kick myself in the ass for adding another high maintenance pet into the household.  Like Reggie the Piddler isn’t enough to keep up with, now I’ll have Herbie the Crapper. And while I might gripe about Reggie the Piddler, it’s not anything I didn’t know I was risking by adopting a toy breed, and a rescue pet at that.  And Ramie is starting to act like she’s approaching ten years old, so she’s going to need some babying for her golden years.

One bootleg red-eared slider:  $10

Minimum supplies to provide an adequate habitat:  $138.60

Taking a big dose of your own medicine:  priceless

The silver lining?  At least y’all will get a good laugh out of this.

Ei	Ahem…I (choke-cough) wouldn’t laugh (cough-cough) at (cough) you. At least it was only $138.60.  That decimal could easily be moved elsewhere.    Posted by Ei on December 28, 2005 – Wednesday – 8:32 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	CURLYGURL	Shaddap… I know you are laughing your ass off.    Posted by CURLYGURL on December 28, 2005 – Wednesday – 7:02 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	CURLYGURL	Oh, and did I mention the life span of a red eared slider?  For a healthy specimin, the average is 25 to 40 years.  But he might live to be 75.  Or more. My grandchildren will have something to remember me by.    Posted by CURLYGURL on December 28, 2005 – Wednesday – 8:02 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	Ei	Ah, the family heirloom…gotta love it. Yeah, I was…mopping the tears offa my face, in fact.    Posted by Ei on December 29, 2005 – Thursday – 7:29 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	Belle Belle Godfrey	Love ya girl…but I am laughing!  Do you think Halle would think it was responsible to move him to his natural habitat at the Zoo?  She could go visit and tell others that Herbie was actually hers and she was sharing with them by placing him at the Zoo? Just a thought…. Hugs chica! Belly  Posted by Belle on December 28, 2005 – Wednesday – 10:05 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	CURLYGURL	The thought crossed my mind, girl, but I think even giving him away would be ‘distributing’ him, and (as I learned today), that is also illegal until he is four (not three) inches in length.  Besides, I’m not entirely sure how old Herbie is or his exact origins, but he is probably a hatchling and was probably bred and hatched in captivity.  I’ve never seen a zookeeper out in the pond with the turtles and never seen an employee feed them, so my guess is they’re relatively wild.  I don’t know if Herbie would be able to forage for food (which in the wild would be insects and small fish), or even be strong/aggressive enough to compete with the big turtles for kettle korn, assuming that at one inch in length, he didn’t become a snack himself (a full size red slider can get up to 11 inches in length).  And I’m not sure what the zoo’s policy is on animal surrenders, but I imagine that even with the animals they don’t really have to do much care for, they would want some kind of health history before knowingly introducing a new animal into the environment.  I read that most ‘pet store’ turtles have been under stress from improper living conditions, and are more prone to respiratory and bacterial infections and tend to be malnourished and dehydrated.  Considering I kept him in a shoebox with unfiltered and chlorinated tap water for close to a week and god knows what he lived in before that, it’s a miracle he’s lived this long.  Unfortunately, he’s still as likely as not to die even if I provide 100% perfect care from here on out, just from the conditions he lived in before.  So I’m going to do the best I can to keep this little guy kicking.  If his maintenance turns out to be too much, I’ll cross that bridge if/when he reaches healthy adulthood, or at least a size I could ethically find him another home.   Posted by CURLYGURL on December 28, 2005 – Wednesday – 7:59 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	Belle Belle Godfrey	Your amazing……a heart as big as the size of my home state sista!  Those three kids are truly blessed!  Most moms would have already folded!!!!!!! Bel~    Posted by Belle on December 29, 2005 – Thursday – 7:50 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

CURLYGURL

Girl, don’t you know that one of the things that stuck with me from the bible (mind you, this is my own personal interpretation), is that Eden and the animals came first, and the human race was brought to eden to work and care for it and it’s inhabitants, to rule over all the creatures that fly in the air and walk on the ground. I figure if Adam and Eve got the boot for eating an apple, I’m in deep doodie if I kill this turtle.   Posted by CURLYGURL on December 29, 2005 – Thursday – 11:20 PM

  

 

via Herbie, the family turtle – CURLYGURL’s MySpace Blog | Cyndi–s Jewels. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ramie Meets Reggie…

We took Ramie down to meet Reggie and that went well. They checked each out, and once she’d given him the once-over, she turned her attention to sniffing down the rest of the holding area. Reggie, on the other hand, would have had his nose glued to her *ahem* backside if he’d had the choice. LOL, poor little guy – her stuff (hopefully) won’t be all that interesting to him after tomorrow. Halle was so disappointed when I said it was time to go, I told her we’d come back in the afternoon and hopefully they wouldn’t be so busy. We decided to take Ramie to Petsmart to get her new tag, and wound up with a travel carrier for Reggie. If they continue to get along really well and *if* he doesn’t have any trouble housebreaking, I’ll probably return the crate, but we’ll need something to keep him from roaming the car when we go out, or if we take him on a trip. After we dropped Ramie at home and grabbed Reggie’s leash & halter, we went back to animal control to make sure it fit/give him a little more leash time and a chance to get to know his ‘carseat’. The most adorable thing happened when we were walking out. The dog kennels are indoor/outdoor, and a few feet beyond the exterior of their kennel fence, is another fence that has that green plastic stuffthreaded through it. We were walking along to the car and Halle was trailing behind peering through the fence at the dogs who are outside. I hear this ‘BARK BARK’ and Halle says Mommy that dog looks just like Reggie and I look and it WAS Reggie. Little sweetheartmusta been wondering ‘I heard her say AT LEAST 50 TIMES that I was her new dog, SO WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME HERE AGAIN?’

Regulus “Reggie” Leo

My GAWD, I forgot how expensive it is to get a new dog. The leash, the harness, the name tag, the food, the food dish, the book that had the best grooming section, the slicker brush, the crate, the water bottle, the ‘pee stake’ and a couple toys and I’ve already spent well over the adoption fee on supplies for the little booger. Ramie has gotten into a bad habit of dragging whoever is walking her… since we’ve had an enclosed yard her walks have become few and far between. Now that Tyler finally weighs more than Ramie does, I have been thinking that I need to get off my duff about breaking that habit and letting him walk her. So I get her a regular 4′ leash because you can’t loose leash train with a retractable leash (what she has now). So tonight I decide to give a quick lesson, and when we’re leashing up I notice Ramie’s name tag is worn almost bare and you can’t make out any one line in it’s entirety, so we need a new tag for her. God save me from myself, I find more ways to spend money than anyone I know.

But on a more cheerful note, I took my nana out for coffee today as a ‘Happy Grandparents Day’ gift… given her age and health I just can’t handle giving her ‘things’ because I can’t help thinking about her not having long to enjoy them. After that, I let Tyler & Daija stay at my mom’s while Halle and I went over to have a little visitation with Reggie. Since he wasn’t technically up for adoption Thursday night when we went to see him we couldn’t play with him. She wasn’t with me when I did the adoption paperwork Friday, which is when I got to hold him. I wanted to give them some time to bond without the other two kids battling for his attention. Also, he’s probably not going to feel too hot Monday night when we pick him up, so I figure spending a little more time getting to know us before his juevos are sore wouldn’t hurt his stress level when we pick him up. He enjoyed being held and carried by both Halle and I and walked really well on a leash for both of us. I mentioned we were coming back the next day and asked if it would be OK if we bring something with Ramie’s scent on it for him, and they said we were welcome to bring her with us and introduce them. I am so thrilled, because I was not looking forward to trying to get both dogs, separately, to a neutral location for their introduction. He seems friendly towards other dogs and was alert but didn’t get hyper when they walked past us today… but assuming he’s not going to be feeling great after a neuter and a car ride, he might not be very receptive to a once over by a dog four times his size (which, btw, is about 9.5 lbs).

So as far as the name, I did this great build up with the definition… “I read about this great name that means Heart of the Lion, Little King, the Prince” and she looked very intrigued. Then I told her “Regulus” and she wrinkled her nose. When I tried to sell her on the Reggie & Ramie combo, she started whining and was on the verge of tears. Moomba got only a slightly better reaction. So I’m tossing out names on the list, and when I get to Leo, she asks me if it’s spelled l-e-o… she wants Leo because she can spell it. I assured her that I would absolutely teach her to spell any name we chose. She was firm on Leo. So I said okay, and then commented in an offhand manner… “Do you remember Miss Neicey? Zoe’s mom?” And she did. She loves Zoe, and since Miss Neicey not only brought Zoe into the world, but also permits Zoe to have Bratz dolls, Miss Neicey is also an object of affection. So I went on to say that I had emailed with her today about the new puppy, and that Miss Neicey had thought Reggie and Ramie sounded REALLY cool. Suddenly, Reggie sounded like a great nick name, and Leo could just be his middle name instead.

Guess What?

ding ding ding ding ding ding

Oh, and he was so happy to see me… he was actually a little wiggly when I stopped outside his pen before someone came to take him out so I could hold him. Of course we had to walk ALLLL the way through this long row of cages of barking dogs to get to a holding area and he was just trembling when the guy handed him to me. I swear he crawled right up to my shoulder and clutched my neck with his paws, just like a little monkey. He’s not a puppy though – they estimate he’s about two years old. And he was a stray with no tag/identification. That, coupled with the fact that he wasn’t already neutered at two years old tells me his previous owner was a careless and/or uneducated owner and that the dog is probably the product of a backyard breeder… the really good breeders usually require you to spay/neuter as part of the purchase contract. So, with that in mind I’m going to assume he may not have much of the right kind of training… so we’ll start with the clicker when we pick him up on Monday.

Halle had planned to name her dog, whenever she got one, Christina, but this fella being a boy, now she needs to come up with a new name. I told her that since Shih Tzu’s were known as ‘little lion dogs’ we should find some names that mean lion. Of course the final decision is Halle’s here are the names I’m going to present. Cool trivia fact: the Shih Tzu is reported to be the oldestand smallest of the Tibetan holy dogs, the lion being associated with the Buddhist deity. Tyler, who has always had a strong affinity for Buddha, thought that way cool.

Abbas (Lion)
Amra (the Lion)
Ari (Lion)
Ariel (God’s Lion, Lion of God)
Asad (Lion)
Danh Tu (Lion)
Leo (the Lion)
Moomba (cute little lion like creature)
Nada (roar; battle cry of a warrior)
Regulus (heart of the lion, little king, the prince)
Shiku (Lion’s Roar)
Simba (Lion)
Tau (Lion)
Usamah (Description of a Lion)

How much is that doggie in the window…

Have I ever mentioned that I have been looking for a Shih Tzu for Halle since January 04? I won’t buy from a backyard breeder, and I can’t afford one from a real breeder (it’d probably run around the equivalent of my mortgage payment), so I’ve been watching out for one to pop up in a shelter and it’s finally happened! Last night I raced over to Animal Control like a maniac to get there before they closed at 5:30. Turns out he isn’t available to adopt until 11AM today. He looked absolutely thrilled when we stopped at his cage… stood on his hind legs with his paws on the cage wagging and sniffed us and licked Halle’s hand, but didn’t bark, spin in circles, or jump, so I’m hoping he’ll be of good temperament. He was in a cage alone and there was some doggie doo outside, and a piddle just inside the door… I figure that’s a good sign that he’s at least got the general idea that his mess belongs outdoors and he makes an effort to get there. Especially in a smelly place like that where he’d be tempted to mark his territory all over the place. Unfortunately, they said they can’t tell me anything about him until today… so I will have to race back over there like a maniac, cuz they don’t take phone inquiries, to find out if he was a stray or an owner turn in, and if he was an owner turn in, why. If he was a lost pet/stray, or the owner just couldn’t manage his hair (possible, cuz he’s only been there since Tuesday and is sporting a very recent ‘buzz cut), he’s ours. If chewing or potty training was an issue, I can probably even handle that (says the woman of a 2yo who won’t use the toilet) cuz problems with that are just as often a owner not training or crating, as a problem with the dog. But if he was a turn in for biting or aggression, that we can’t do.

I’m heading over there at ‘lunch’… I’m afraid he won’t be there by the time I get off work. These dogs just don’t usually turn up in shelters.