Here Kitty, Kitty

When you have a blind dog, funny things happen. Jack has adapted pretty well to his loss of vision, but he still has issues getting around sometimes. Like last night, when he was sniffing for crumbs in the kitchen floor, hoping someone had dropped a tasty morsel while fixing or eating dinner. From the living room we could hear was him bumping repeatedly into the cabinets like a steel ball in a pinball game. He did it so much it got funny. Sometimes he gets stuck in a closet or bathroom and can't figure out how to get out so he gets mad and starts barking in a dammit kind of bark. And if you're not careful when walking him in the yard, he'll run into a tree 'cause he gets so excited about going outside that he runs without caution. If they made helmets for pets, we'd buy one.


Well today, Teen Angel texted me this picture of Jack snoozing on Sabrina's bed, next to her kitty toys and a couple of feet from her water bowl.



While the cat is in the habit of stealing Jack's pillow because she's ornery that way, he NEVER EVER wants anything to do with her, let alone her bedding. I mean never. From the moment we moved her into the house, he has pretended she doesn't exist. So this picture means one of two things, either he got lost and wound up in the wrong bed or someone's having an identity crisis.

A Pop up for the Pooch

Y'all, this is the kind of silliness that goes on at my house when I'm at work all day. 

Apparantly, KOA Campgrounds set up some kind of facility for dogs.  In our living room.  Wi fi and electrical hook-ups not included.  Don't ask me what Hubby is doing.  I have no idea.  And neither did Teen Angel when she texted this picture to me.

Ready for Some Good News

Sometimes it seems like everything goes to pot at the same time. That’s not really true, but it sure seems that way whenever several bad things combine to overshadow the good that’s going on. I really am trying to stay positive right now, but health issues among friends and loved ones has me concerned for several folks. The prayer list at church is a mile long, and so many of my friends are dealing with death. It’s been a rough couple of months for many folks that I know. Janjanmom unexpectedly lost her father in law about a week after we lost Mama J. A well known member of our community died suddenly of a massive stroke even though he wasn’t even fifty years old, and the obituary section of the local newspaper has a familiar name in it every day. It’s just crazy.


Some of my current worries involve daddy’s brother who fell more than a week ago. He needed to have surgery to repair his arm, and now he’s in ICU because his kidneys just aren’t waking up from the surgery, and he has pneumonia. He should already be in the midst of physical therapy. Daddy’s sister, who suffers from dementia, is not eating and frankly, is just not doing well. I’ve gotten reluctant to answer the phone ‘cause I just don’t want to hear any more bad news. My stomach truly clenches each time it rings and I see Mama’s name or Hubby’s name on the caller ID. And while these folks are my biggest worries, there is another member of our family who is ailing too, and I have yet to share that with you.

Our ten year old miniature schnauzer, Jumpin’ Jack Flash, has been very sick for several weeks.

In fact, he almost died on us a couple of times, once while Teen Angel and I were in Europe. He was diagnosed with diabetes about two months ago, and we are still trying to get his blood sugar regulated. About the time we think we have it figured out, his sugar bottoms out and we have to reconfigure his insulin. He requires two shots a day, one in the morning and another in the evening. Now, I know some folks wouldn’t go to that much trouble for a dog, but we are crazy dog people. Jack is family. We share every part of our home with him, and while we don’t treat him like a child, he is a treasured member of our family, and we make no excuses for that. Jack loves his peeps, and we love him. He bonded with us from the day we got him, and he has brought us much joy. I’ve had dogs all my life, and I’ve never had a dog that tried as hard as he does to communicate with me or be so close to me. It is not uncommon for Hubby to wake up and find Jack spooned up against me with his little head on my pillow. We are all very attached to that dog.

One of the hardest parts about all of this is that the diabetes took his vision. Quickly. It was gone within a couple of weeks. He could see fairly well when Teen Angel and I left for London and was completely blind by the time we came home. It was quite a shock to come home to his weakened condition. While the vet tells us that blind dogs adjust very well, it is painful to watch him wander around the house and bump into things. Everything that I read on the internet tells me that it’s usually harder for the owner to accept a pet’s blindness than it is for the dog, and I believe that. If we could find him a helmet to protect his little noggin’ we would. He does seem to be adjusting to his surroundings. He loves being outside because he has room to romp and run without running into stuff, as long as we keep him on a leash and watch out for him.

In fact, he likes to go for walks more than ever now. He finds his way into the concrete curb along our street and trots fast enough to take your breath away.

The vet says he could live for two or three more years IF we can get his blood sugar stabilized. That’s a bit of a big if right now, but we are getting closer. I hope we can. We’d love to have him around for a little while longer. And honestly, I just can’t bear the thought of losing another loved one right now. Besides, who will keep my feet warm this winter if Jack isn’t around?

Because Nothing Makes You A Pet Owner Faster Than A Little Guilt

We have a new pet. I hadn’t planned on a new pet, but I got one anyway. And it’s a cat. I’m not a cat person. I’m a dog person. Don’t get me wrong, I love most all critters, but I prefer the kind that love you unconditionally, beg for your attention and live for the opportunity to please you. Not the kind that are aloof and want things on their own terms, which is how most cats strike me. However, I just couldn’t say no to this one. It’s Sissy’s cat, Sabrina.She is without a master, and Teen Angel is terribly attached to her. She is the kitty Sissy got not too long after my nephew died, so there is some emotional history with this cat. I didn’t have a chance did I? I might as well have “sap” tattooed on my forehead. From the day Sissy died, I suspected Sabrina would end up in our home. We left her at Sissy’s house, visiting and feeding her every night on her territory so as not to traumatize her any more than she already is by Sissy’s absence and all of the packing and moving going on in the house. I kept saying we would eventually figure out what to do with her when everything settled down, but my gut was shouting, “Ooh, pants on fire.”

Sabrina’s about eight years old. The odds of her being adopted from a shelter are slim since she’s not a kitten and is definitely set in her ways. I feel an obligation to Sissy to make sure Sabrina is taken care of, and I couldn’t stand it if kitty was euthanized. And she just wants to be loved and yadda, yadda, yadda and blah, blah, blah and isn’t she sweet and can’t we please keep her mom I promise I’ll take care of her and on and on and on with the kitty talk until I relented. Hubby tried to resist, too, but he’s a bigger sap than I am when it comes to animals, and he actually likes cats. So here we are, adding another critter to the fold which already includes a dog and a dozen fish, but I have to admit she is lovely. Teen Angel got Sabrina a new tag with our address the other day and took her to the vet for a well check up, which I guess means she is officially ours now. She is warming up to us fine with the exception of the loudest member of the house.And she wants no part of him. In fact, she smacked him hard Saturday night when I took him to Sissy’s house and was prepared to do some real damage to his head until I put him back in the truck. It’s going to be a slow process, introducing those two. He wants to be friends. She wants to kill him. We’ll keep trying, dragging him down there each night….while we feed the neighbors’ two dogs and cat because they’re on vacation. And because I couldn't say no to them either. Sigh. Have I showed you my new tattoo?

We Paws for This Message

I’m not naming any names but SOMEBODY in this house would rather go for a truck ride than eat. In fact, that somebody will literally fling himself against the back door when he hears the old blue Ford fire up. He knows that a ride means the wind flying through your hair.
And the warm sun shining on your face.
That SOMEBODY likes to hog the middle seat when we’re going fast.
But would rather hang his head out the window when we’re going slow.
And that SOMEBODY quivers from head to stubby tail with excitement when cars go by, especially those big brown UPS trucks.
And I’m not naming any names, but SOMEBODY literally had to go pee after this excitement happened.
SOMEBODY is going to have to buy a car seat harness if this keeps up.

Ears Lookin' At You

When we got our miniature schnauzer six years ago we made a conscious decision to keep his big floppy ears. Hubby made an appointment at the vet’s to have them cut, because everyone said that’s what you’re supposed to do with a schnauzer. But Teen Angel and I pitched a hissy, whined, moaned and pleaded with him to cancel that appointment because we loved Jack’s big ol’ ears. They give him character we said. And they’re cute and blah, blah, blah and yadda, yadda, yadda and wha, wha, wha until Hubby relented. Not that it took much convincing since Hubby’s kind of a wienie about lopping off body parts and kind of a pushover when it comes to the women in his life. Boy, are we glad we saved those ears. They make us smile on a daily basis, especially when Jack goes for a ride and let’s his hair down. That dog loves to ride in the golf cart. Nothing makes him happier than zipping down the street on the golf cart with the breeze blowing in his face. And his ears flapping in the wind. That’s how I snapped this picture Friday:This photo captures the true essence of his little canine spirit. In fact, it’s so accurate, it’s ear-ee. Ha! I crack myself up.

Anyone care to give this one a caption?

Proof We Are Easily Amused

We spend a lot of time laughing at our dog. I hope he forgives us. He's just so darn funny. Owning a miniature schnauzer is an adventure. They try desperately to communicate with you, so they are very vocal. They're very smart, too. And no other breed has more personality. Their egos are much bigger than their bodies. They'll pick a fight with a great dane and never realize what a suicidal move that is. Jack is a great watch dog. No one comes near our house without him raising ten kinds of Cane. (He hates the UPS man.) Of course, he also hides in the back bedroom when I turn on the stove, and I've found him standing in the middle of the bed with his head under the covers during a midnight thunderstorm, so he's obviously more bark than bite. He loves his peeps and is definately a lap dog. Every night around 9pm he crawls onto my lap and lays there while I read and then follows me to bed where he's been known to hog my pillow. He's one of the family. Shucks, I love him just for his cute, floppy ears. We didn't have the heart to have them cut when he was a puppy. He brings us great pleasure and gives us several laughs every day. Today's laugh? Well, before I show you this picture, keep in mind that the focus of a schnauzer's appearance is his beard. It's their trademark. It also gets in the way every time they eat, and schnauzers LOVE food, any food, especially people food. This is what happens when you feed a hungry schnauzer who's been on a diet for the last month some homemade vegetable soup.Don't laugh too hard, though. He just might get embarrassed. And then he'll ignore you.At least until you sit down with a fluffy pillow to read.