I got a delightful email from a sweet woman today, a fellow companion animals rescuer. I can't say "dog rescuer" because she rescues cats too. Wowsa. I haven't thoroughly explored her blog yet, but in even brief viewing, it seems pretty fair to say the number of pets through her home makes our total after about a year and a half of this fostering business seem pretty paltry. {For the record, counting the pups, we are standing at 19 beautiful doggie creatures.} So go Laurie go! =)
Due to her inspiration--and my recent trip to NE whereupon I learned there are people reading my blog and they do pay a bit of attention and I have been woefully inept at updating because they were asking questions that to me felt like crazy old news, til I realized if you went by my blog and thought I was on top of things...well, you get it--here is an update on our little family.
Was that really one sentence?! Goodness...if it was, it shouldn't have been huh?! And I do know where my delete key is, I just choose to let it languish while I force innocent people to follow my line of thinking. ;) Back to it...
Paisley. My love. Mi amor. Mon petit chou. Golly goodness if this girl isn't one of the top 10 best beings to ever come into my life. Don't ask me to round out that top 10, because someone would feel bad falling below a dog and all, but seriously, I loooove this girl.
And here she is in all her nekkid glory. She rarely gets to be nekkid because there are usually multiple dogs in the household, so it is a simple safety (and practicality) issue: a collar gives you something to grab should you feel the need. She was nekkid for 2 days because her foster sibs were off galavanting with veterinary students, bless their souls (the dogs AND the students!). She also got to sleep in bed with us for two nights and to not hear her Momma sound like a militant* trying to keep three dogs and a toddler in line. I *think* she was pleased with those two days. ;) Though to her credit, she has seemed pretty pleased to have her playmates back too.
Sula. Sweet, sugarpie SulaSu. Me loves. I've already been pretty forthcoming on my feeling toward this little beefcake (note to self, must post photo of her insane muscles, the girl is stacked!). Here she is doing what she does best, with an absolute stranger no less, at an adoption day event.
She did go to a family for a couple weeks, but they ended up deciding it just wasn't for the best to keep her. They adored her, so it is not a testament to her being a bad dog or them being bad people, it just wasn't the right fit. So she is here, and I am happy. =) Turns out, Su's got quite the personality, complete with rough edges, but you know (or maybe you don't) that I'm cool with rough edges. These dogs are no more perfect than you or I, so can't we cut them all a break?! ;) She gets barky toward other dogs when she is overwhelmed. That's actually not much of a rough edge, but still, she's not the "perfect" gal she may have seemed when she was exhausted from raising those littles of hers. =)
And of course, Mel. Melly. Smelly Melly--not because he stinks, but because he was the sniffin'est thing we'd seen in a while when we first brought him home.
{Photo courtesy of the J man; I love this shot, one of my new favorite foster photos of all time.}
Still here, still his own unique little dude. "Look honey, Mel's a real dog!" This is the standard joke around here when he does any of a number of things that pretty much any dog would do. Why?! Because when we met him at the shelter, he was doing pretty much nothing that lots of normal dogs would do, besides maybe walking on all fours and having a tail. ;) And the tail was in question because it was tucked so far beneath him we weren't quite sure it was there. He wasn't our typical pull. He was my "compassion" case, I had to bring him home, I had to see if there was a real dog in there...and lo and behold, much to my endless pleasure, there IS! A pretty sweet little one, if you ask me. J is in love too; I don't think I've seen him fall this hard since...well, okay Una. So that wasn't so long ago. And she's still available too! Now his tail wags and he quite nearly wiggles, or as close to the wiggles as we think Mel can get, and he is happy to see us and he seeks us out and he kisses Grady and we wuv him oh so much. =)
Except....aw man....that's the same as "but." ;) Except he can't live with cats. Of which, we have two; this is the first time we've had to crate and rotate out our companion animal species. And he has problems with his right hip and both ACLs. Yeah, I'm just patting myself on the back over this pull, believe me. Oops! But he's here, and we're banking on the fact that there IS a family out there for this little guy. My special needs boy. =)
Last but not least, there's the Bugga. Grady Boone. Goofer Snoodle. Me sure loves him too.
He certainly has his own rough edges, the rough edges of a two and half year old. ;) Wow. But those rough edges are more than smoothed out when he hugs my leg and says "I yuv you Momma," or when he screeches when his Papa gets home and says "I missed you uh-day Papa," or when he tells his Memaw he "had a bootiful day."
So there you have it. Our house in review, minus cats who are still here and still loved (have I mentioned Turdie is quite the mouser?), and J and I who must be here, because can you imagine the insanity of all those beings without two half-sane adults around?! Yeah, I don't want to think about that either...
*J just informed me that my use of the term "militant" may lead people to believe I am harsh, physically violent, and politically extreme in my handling of our household. HA! I attempted to then inform him that it was hyperbole, I was being facetious, and that the context would assure people that is not the case. So here is my little p.s. in case your brain works more like J's than like mine. ;)
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