If you're happy and you know it

Clap your hands!

Of the three ferrets, Squish is Caden's favorite.  She was neglected when I got her.  Skinny (you could see hip bones even) and with a bald tail (sign of stress), she was never really outgoing.  While my male, Sammy, was always the happy-go-lucky crazy ferret, Squish has always been more mellow and happy to just cuddle. 

Last night Caden and Squish were just too cute.  They were both in my tiny kitchen as I was cooking.  They sat together just hanging out.  Then, Caden thought it was just easier to lay down so Squish could lay on him.  Later Caden came back into the kitchen eating his Teddy Grahams.  Squish wanted to check it out, so he let her sniff it.  She wasn't interested in eating it- she was just being nosy lol.

 

Then, to ensure all cuteness was recorded, I caught him singing If You're Happy And You Know It, using Squish as a prop.  You've gotta see the YouTube video.

 



 

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Pups in Heaven

Today was a great day.  We took Bruce for a nice walk, went to the beach where we got mobbed by sea gulls, buried Caden and Sean's legs in the sand, played with Caden in the water, and just had a wonderful family fun day.  But when the kids hit the bed and Bruce fell asleep at my feet, my heart had a little bit of a throb in it.  Like it was missing something.  And that's when I remembered.  I don't think I'll ever forget.
Today is Boston's 3 year anniversary of going from "Mommy's Baby" to "Missing."  Who's Boston?  Just one of the few angels God had sent to me.  If you don't know me very well, you'll need to know this:  I love animals.  I love them like I love children.  I believe God has given us these wonderful things as gifts and we're responsible for appreciating them if not because we just love them, then at least in honor of His love for us.  So from time to time, you'll come across a blog post about a past pet or any animal that has touched my heart in some way.  In honor of his memory, I'll tell you a little story about him.  I think I need to write about him anyway.  It'll probably help me deal with it tonight. 
While I was married to X, I had two dogs: Prissy and Boston.  I had Prissy way before I met X and Boston was adopted maybe a year after we married.  Both were lost at the hands of X which marked the beginning of an extraordinary journey to departing my and my kids' lives from a life of abuse to one of victory.

Prissy was an American Eskimo Spitz and Boston was a Boston Terrier/Chihuahua mix.  They were both so different in personality, Prissy being well.. prissy and Boston being a bouncy little pup.  Like all dogs, they wanted nothing more than affection and love.  They gave me more than I could ever give them and in the end that proved true.
During my marriage life was very chaotic and I suffered from depression and anxiety.  The three of us (the dogs and I) endured abuse together.  Prissy and Boston not only comforted me when I needed a friend, they eventually gave their lives.  I won't go into the details of everything because this isn't meant to be a sad story.  But I will highlight that Prissy's death and Boston's disappearance opened my eyes to something I wish I had the courage to see earlier: LEAVE.  But if I left earlier, I wouldn't have two beautiful children in their place.  No, I believe I left when the time was right.  God already had things planned out for us all.

Three years ago today, Boston left.  But he left behind wonderful memories of life in his presence.  He always reminded me of Scrappy, Scooby Doo's nephew.  Remember Scrappy?  That little pup with all the spunk in the world?  That was my Boston.  When he ran, he hopped.  He could chase a tennis ball forever.  In fact he would be dead asleep and if I accidentally dropped his ball, he'd bounce outta sleep and come looking for it.  There were so many things about him that just melted my heart.

One of the sweetest things he did was carry this small, beat up teddy bear around.  It was like his comfort object or something.  He'd sleep with it or just want it near him.  He chewed a hole in the thing and still wanted it around!  I still have the bear but I keep it in a safe place where sticky toddler fingers won't reach it.  :P
When Boston left I was terribly sad.  My heart just sagged.  I remember even praying, "God I know you can do miracles, please bring him back!"  Foolish, I know.  But at the time I didn't care.  I loved him so much.  Losing him was like losing a child.  He was such a good dog.  He was quiet, followed me everywhere, loved anyone who would cuddle him and anytime I cried he was right there looking at me with his big brown eyes.  Both he and Prissy gave me so much love during the times I really needed it.  Losing the both of them was devastating.  And I struggled with my faith when I lost them.  A few Christians I asked told me that the Bible doesn't say anything about dogs going to heaven.  That not only pissed me off but it broke my heart!  But after speaking to a couple of chaplains about it, they both told me the same thing:  Just because it isn't mentioned in the Bible, it doesn't mean they don't go to heaven.  If you read through Revelations, you'll see that Jesus comes down on a white horse!  That itself tells me there are animals in heaven.  :)
So tonight, I guess my heart is just aching a little for them both.  Even though it's Boston's anniversary and not Prissy's, they both were lost to the same cruelty and both gave me such an incredible boost of courage.  I thank God for giving me these two little angels to comfort me.  I know that whether they're in heaven or at the bridge waiting for me, they're happy and healthy. 
Whenever the Lord decides to take me home, I know they'll be running to me at full speed.  So to the both of them, "Goodnight, babies."

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Bruce

He's my rebound dog.  Sweet.  Adorable.  BIG.  Bruce.  I don't know why he chose me but I think he knew I needed him.  When he was brought out of the kennel, he came up to me and gave me the most gentle welcome.  He put his paw up for me as I knelt down and petted him.  When I rubbed his ears he immediately slumped onto his back looking for belly rubs.  The workers that took him out said that he's usually shy, so it was odd that he warmed up to me so quickly.  He acted as if he knew me.  I knew then that I would be taking him home.

The humane society labeled him as Rottweiler/Shepherd mix because of his coloring.  But the vet said he looked more like a bloodhound mix.  I researched the Black and Tan Coonhound, which he resembles very much.  I'm thinking he's mixed with that and Lab or something.  He bays like a hound dog.  Walks with his nose to the ground trailing a scent with his tail up.  And he's got such a droopy face.  I don't care what he's mixed with, I love him.

He's great with the kids, super gentle despite his 77lbs.  And he actually loves kids.  Very patient.  And all he wants is to be rubbed on.  He's such a ham.  All this goodness aside, though, there is one thing that breaks my heart about him.  He has hip and elbow dysplasia.  The poor guy was in a lot of pain-- so much that his front legs shake when he sits.  So our vet, who is just wonderful, suggested some treatments for him.

We started laser therapy last week, we're 8 days into it, and he showed an immediate response to it.  He's able to jump into the hatch of my SUV without any help or encouragement from me.  He's walking better (his hind legs are a little more limber).  And he just seems so much happier!  The other day he picked up a toy from the floor and did a funny slow-moving gallop around the living room.  He seems to be very mindful of his size, though, which is a huge relief for all of us.  He's very gentle and doesn't push or shove. 

This week we started him on Adequan injections.  After a month of treatment, he'll go down to just once a month injections.  Poor dude.  I don't know how long he lived with his pain but I pray that God will continue to bless me with the ability to get him the help he needs.

So I guess he's a rebound dog with some baggage.  We're kind of made for each other in that way, I guess.  :)

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Changes in the Pack

This is the second time I rehomed Charlie.  When I brought him home he was a stray about to be brought to the pound.  I couldn't stand another dog in the pound.  One more dog in means another cage needed, which means someone's gotta  go.  And you know what that means-- unnecessary death.  So I brought him home.  And it was one wild ride.

With two kids (and Sean was just a little baby) in my life, I don't know what I was thinking bringing in a puppy.  And boy was he a big puppy!  With his long legs and gigantic head, Charlie ran and jumped and did all the normal puppy things.  When he got older, about 7 months, I just couldn't handle him and two little guys.  So I found him a home with a big fenced yard.  Four months later his owners called me and said it wasn't working out because their other dog wouldn't get along with him.  He's a good boy who gets along with anyone and anything, but he can be overwhelming and their chihuahua just couldn't tolerate his high energy.  So I took him back.

Now he was even bigger!  But I didn't want to give up on him.  I worked some training into him and at the time we lived in a house with a backyard, so I took the time to exercise him.  And with enough walks and backyard run time, he did great.

After my deployment I moved into an apartment.  At first it was great!  It was just the two of us, going for multiple walks and jogs a day.  But once I brought the kids back home, all hell broke loose.  I realized I couldn't take him for walks as much as he wanted.  Having to haul two toddlers down a second floor for a walk as often as Charlie wanted was just not happening.  We'd go for a long evening walk and as soon as we went back inside, he was at the door wanting to go back outside.  He started getting stir crazy.

When the kids napped, poor Charlie was sitting by the door wanting out.  If I didn't take him out, he'd find something to destroy and just destroy it.  Though he was potty trained, I would come home to find poop and pee on the carpets.  The poor thing was just so cooped up that he was acting out in crazy ways.  Shredding anything he could get his jaws on, peeing in the kids' rooms, peeing on the couch, barking at the door for yet another walk.  He was just going nuts!  Even though we walked him for an hour in the morning and two hours in the evening on the weekdays, and then three walks a day on the weekends, he just couldn't get enough outside time.  I realized he wasn't going to do well in an apartment like I hoped. 

I found a family who was looking for a dog.  The husband used to have a German Shepherd and decided their dog would be of that breed.  I spoke to them about Charlie and they were dying to take him.  So that night I packed all his toys and leashes up.  As I was doing so, my heart began to sag.  Even though he was such a pain, he was still my baby.  He reminded me of Marley in the movie Marlie and Me.  Crazy but lovable.  I reached behind the TV on the entertainment center and found his squeaky toys.

I hate his squeaky toys.  And he loves them.  He carried them in his mouth all over the place just squeaking and it drove me insane.  But I never had the heart to throw them away.  Instead, I'd just hide them and he always found them.  I put the squeaky toys in his bag.  And that's when the tears came.

I called Patrick, who did all he could to console me even resorting to humor saying "He'll be fine!  They'd probably give him a better home than yours."  Of course that just made me cry more and he immediately explained that he was only kidding.  Men!

When I brought Charlie to his new family, all the worries I had about them faded.  He went straight to their yard, which is a huge fenced area that wrapped around the back and sides of their home.  Their kids (older ones, thank goodness) opened the gate and let him in and off he went.  He ran with all his heart.  He ran in circles, jumped, rolled on his back.  I knew then that this was the life he needed.  A place to run unleashed.  A place to burn his energy.  Anytime he needed.  Older kids who wouldn't get knocked over when he decided to go on a pupy run.  Two adults in the home so one could take him for a walk while the other stayed in with the kids.  A balanced home.

They had his own room prepared-- a sunroom filled with toys and a dog bed.  They explained that he'd have free run of the house but at night they wanted him to sleep in his room.  That all changed a couple of days later when they called and said he now sleeps in their son's bed with him.  That made me happy.

They love him.  And they have room for him.  And he doesn't need to wait at the door for everyone in the house to get ready for a walk.  He just goes out their doggy door and runs.    I sent them his puppy pictures.  And they sent back stories of what he'd been up to.

Being in the home without him seemed strangely calm.  Which was a nice change.  But it also left a void.  Since I had been a single mom, I always wanted a dog with us.  Something big that would provide an appearance of security.  Not an aggressive dog, but something that might make predators think twice before messing with us or even just a single woman living without a man in the home.  Sometime after Charlie was rehomed, I visited the humane society.  And that's where I found Bruce.

With the perfect temperament and energy for a single mom with little boys in an apartment, Bruce filled a hole in my heart.  A big part of me knows he's a rebound dog.  I missed Charlie.  I missed having a dog in the home.  But he's more than a rebound.  If you keep your eye out, you'll get to know more about Bruce in an upcoming blog.

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Guess Who's Back!!

Who has big feet, a large head and pair of funky ears? 

I moved into my apartment a couple of days ago.  I don't know if I just didn't want to be alone or if I couldn't stand the fact that he was only a 20 minute drive away and wasn't with me.  All I know is as soon as I got the keys to my apartment, I picked him up and brought him to our new home.  And it was like we were never apart anyway.

His toys are everywhere!  And his smiles are huge!  I was super happy to have him back again.

So he has big feet that go thump everytime he trots around the place.  He has a big head and a long pointy muzzle.  And I never got his ears taped, he has soft ears, so they're all floppy and funky looking.  If you guessed Charlie, you are awesome.  Yep, I picked him up from his foster home and brought him to our apartment where he got nice and comfortable real fast.

We did lots of snuggling, training and playing.  I've missed his gooberness!  He's so friggin lovable!

The morning after I brought him home, I woke up because something was dropped onto my belly.  I picked it up and saw that it was Charlie's little toy.  He sat in front of me, staring at me as if he was saying, "Play?"  LOL Like a little kid.

Okay, I do have to admit one thing:  Dog toys are gross.  Aren't they?  They're always covered in slime if you play with them.  And they have tons of holes in them from always getting punctured by canines.  And if you let them play with the toys outside?  You're looking at a dirty, grassy, slimy hole punched piece of rubber that for some reason our pets find so appealing. 

Anyway, we are having a blast together!  I can't wait til the kids get here.  Can you imagine?  My home will be filled with so much noise, food and activities than a single person can stand.  I'm excited!

He carries this big rubber ball called the Jolly Ball.  He carries it around and shakes his head back and forth.  Then he rolls it to me and looks at me as if I'm expected to roll it back.  Of course I do!

The poor baby.  It was thundering and he had the most pitiful look on his face.

I was online looking for furniture.  And he was bored.  He kept doing this obnoxious sigh, as if he was sooo disappointed in me.

Now that I have my Charlie back, it feels like I'll have my whole family back in no time!

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