Facebook is Killing my Blogging, but is There Something Else Killing Willis?

Facebook...I on it. I read it mostly. I post occasionally. It has ruined my blogging. Instead of coming here to write, I go to FB to be a voyeur. I feel the need to write about things, but I would never post it on FB for the world to see. Some of my friends on FB are just acquaintances from high school or elsewhere that I would not want to have here reading what I feel to be my personal and intimate thoughts.

And due to FB, my close and intimate audience here is no more either. Not because of anything other than I haven't given anything here to read. I keep trying to get restarted, and then the craziness of life happens to keep me from it.

Today I have decided I want to tell you about my dog Willis. You know her, she's the black lab pup we adopted in 2004 with the yellow lab Ella. Ella has since passed away, but Willis is still here with us - she's a sweet, sweet lass.

Last year, we adopted Eloise. A cute black lab puppy who is now a teenager dog. It wasn't long after her arrival that Willis aged, and aged rapidly. We've jokingly said she hates the puppy so much she's has become allergic to sharing us. She started developing hot spots, her hips began bothering her, and she all around became slow, cranky (at least towards the puppy), and generally old.

Going up and down the stairs, laying down and getting up from sitting, getting in and out of the cargo area of my car...those are just a few things that started getting tough for her. She has a dog bed in our room, but sometimes she would decide to just stay down stairs at the bottom of the landing (poor dog - our home is elevated so stairs have to happen in order to be in the house with the family). Again - we've all just decided that she aged due to the puppy and that her proximity to the young energy of Eloise has made her age more obvious.

Recently she developed an aural hematoma that had us visiting the vet on Saturday mornings for drainings and re-checks. Last week we loaded up to go have a re-check. Upon getting into the car (or her attempt at getting in the car) she fell back squarely onto her hips and then backwards onto her back. It was a hard hit; so hard she shook for about an hour afterwards. I felt bad for her.

Fast forward to yesterday (Saturday). Since last week, Willi's tail hasn't been untucked. She hasn't eaten more than a few nibbles of food on any day since she fell. Friday night ,after a whole day of having no energy, I once again decided to see if I could find a tender spot on her back or hips. That's when I realized that she had a large "dip" in her back. I then got afraid that she had broken a vertebra or slipped a disc. Her attitude was one of being barely here. I began to get truly worried and started the thing I'm known most for...crying. Bryan and I were convinced that she may not make it through the night and if she did, we were going on another trip to see the vet.

She spent the night in Julia's room - a very unusual thing - and we were thrilled to see that she had made it through the night. So, off to the vet Bryan and I went with Willis. I had come to terms with the fact that we may not be bringing Willis home, and I let the vet know that I was ready for that kind of bad news. Well I was lucky and got to bring Willis home. Fast forward through the appointment, we left her for tests, and because I was at "Wicked" with Julia, Bryan got to do the return pick up - we met him there. This is what he emailed me after the doctor called to say we could come get her...

"Blood work ok. There is a bony mass under spine on x-ray. Could be arthritis. Has not seen it quite so bad. Could be something worse. Can't tell without $200 ultrasound if its connected to spine, ok/bad/etc. Told him no on that because the fix is a specialist, etc. and we would not do that. Gonna put pain shot in her and see if she does ok. Need to get her around quitting time. I think we bring her home and give her paid meds. If she eats, drinks great - otherwise not sure what is left to do. Love you, "

The thing it could be the "something worse" is a non-invasive type of bone cancer.  So...the treatment, other than pain meds, would be seeing a specialist and doing back surgery or maybe even some chemo. NOT doing that with a dog that is a minimum of 9 years old. I also don't want to have a doped up dog ALL the time. So far, Julia has spoon fed her to get her to eat (she had lost 5 pounds in a week), and that seemed to jump start her and give her some energy. She's eaten several times since. She seemed to have much better energy today. We go for a re-check on Saturday to re-evaluate. Wish us luck. Say prayers for Willis.

The awful thing that happened last Friday (or RIP Oscar)

It was approximately 6:00am and I realized that I was awake, and awake because I had heard a funny sound.

A few minutes later I heard the sound again and it sounded vaguely familiar. Kind of like the sound that your nose sometimes makes after you've blown it. You know the sound - kind of squeaky - like your nostrils have somehow stuck together at the end of the blow. I instantly felt sorry for Julia - I was thinking she hadn't taken her allergy medicine and was paying for it as she woke.

Then I heard it again...this time it sounded like one of my cats crying out (well, kind of crying out). It was disturbing enough that I jumped up to see what was going on. Was this Julia, or was it a cat? And if it was a cat, which one was it?

As I flew down the hall, I noticed that Julia was sitting up in her bed. I stopped at her door and asked if she was ok. She quickly responded that she was, but that something was wrong with Oscar.

As I rounded the bed, I could see him crouching in the floor. I instantly thought he was dead. Then he looked up at me, with the wildest look in his eyes, and let out the sound again. At this point I also noticed that his tongue was kind of thick looking and starting to turn blue as it fell out of the side of his mouth. My thought instantly took me to thinking he was choking on a fur ball. Having worked for a VET in college, office practices and an old Red Cross class took me over as I grabbed him and began probing his throat to see if I could dislodge the hairball that I knew he must be choking on. Imagine my surprise when I couldn't find anything.

I kept on trying to find a blockage, feverishly probing my fingers down his throat. I then began giving him my version of a feline Heimlich maneuver followed by some mouth to mouth and chest compressions. For a split second I just knew I was going to save him. Why else would I have thought to do all of this? My children watched me acting like a fiend with wide eyes. I was calling to Oscar, begging him to stay with us. I wasn't admitting to myself that he had just died in my hands. But he really was gone.

I began crying, all the while checking to make sure that he hadn't miraculously started breathing again. He was like a warm little rag doll in my hands. Felix looked on with a spooked expression. I was sobbing in the floor. Legare was sobbing with me. Julia and Bryan both seemed bewildered and unbelieving of what they had just witnessed.

I then placed my sweet Oscar into a used USPS "Priority Mail" box and kept checking to make sure he wasn't really breathing. Then, my sweet husband took my shell shocked children to school (I sent teachers an email about the mornings happenings) and he came back home to gather up Oscar and take him to the farm to bury him. Oscar now lies in peace in "Pet Row" next to all of the other pets...Drake, Poogan, Calhi, Deacon, and a friends dog whose name I don't recall.

I haven't dwelt too much on it - I still have a cat and two other dogs to love and care for - no time for miring down in sadness. I have shed a few more tears. One when I was reading a Harry Potter book and they described someone's tongue hanging out of the mouth as they struggled, and again tonight as I put together this post.

Oscar was a great pet. He was a bit aloof, but he always purred when petted. He was also very quick to reveal his tummy for you to pet whenever you began petting him elsewhere. Did I mention that his fur felt like mink? Well, it did. He let our neighbor's child carry him around like a Raggedy Ann doll and never seemed to really mind it. Oscar also loved jumping on the back of the couch when I was sitting on it. He would not sit beside me (or on me as Felix often does), instead, he would take that flat spot at the top of his head and rub my head with his several times before he would settle down by my head to purr and sit with me for a while. He could always be found napping somewhere - he loved napping. He would take month long turns at which ever spot he chose. He loved Julia's bed the most, but frequented everyone's. There were lots of times I would wake in the night to the soft feeling of Oscar snuggling down beside my shoulders or head.

Oscar was a truly special cat. I guess that's why I tried so in vane to save him. He wasn't sick (to my knowledge), and certainly didn't act ill. This came out of no where and smacked us all in the face. But life goes on. We rescued him from the pound in '05 when he was around 4 or 5 years old (or so they say). Of course this means that we offered him a much longer life than he was going to have at the shelter (this was NOT a no kill shelter). By best guesses he was 9 or 10. Given the way shelters like to underestimate ages to get animals adopted, he could have been much older than that.

Rest in Peace Sweet Oscar. You were a wonderful part of our family!

How Do I Name Thee? Let Me Count the Ways

I apparently use pop culture to name mine. Let me tell you about our pets' names...

When I was a little girl my mom and dad got me a chocolate lab puppy that I named Cocoa. He was a great dog. Shortly after we moved from the town where we got him to where we live now, he ran away and/or got run over because he was trying to run free. He roamed a lot when we moved here - I think that's just what dogs do.

Around the time of Cocoa I also went through a hoard of kitties. The one I remember naming was Town Clown (I was a big Captain Kangaroo fan). I don't remember Town Clown being around for long. I'm not sure what happened to him though I have a vague memory of one of the many kitties we tried to have become part of our family getting killed by a neighborhood dog.

After we moved to Charleston we got a new, fluffy, gray kitty when I was in the second grade, and my brother named him George. I think it was because of the cartoon where the Abominable Snowman finds Daffy Duck looking like a "Pink Bunny Rabbit". You know, "I will name him George and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him. And I will pat him and pet him and rub him and caress him". I loved the name and loved the kitty but was always a bit jealous that my brother's name for him was the one that was picked.

George died while I was in college. It was very sad for me, George had always kind of been my cat - sleeping on my bed every night, sitting with me in the family room. I missed him when I went away to college and Bryan, my then boyfriend, now husband, purchased some gerbils for me for Valentine's Day. I named them Rocky and Bullwinkle. (From "The Bullwinkle Show" aka "The Adventures of Bullwinkle and Rocky". Are you seeing a naming trend yet?) Rocky and Bullwinkle were some cool gerbils. They had precious personalities and lived several years with me moving to and from college and even lived on the sorority hall with a hamster and a guinea pig. (all of which I might add were breaking the dorm rules).

After moving off campus, a neighborhood cat started hanging with us. Since he always came to our front porch at the same time every day, I lovingly started calling him "Porch Monkey". I think there is some kind of politically incorrect undertone with that moniker, but Porchy was a great cat and I loved his name. I saw nothing wrong with it.

I then adopted Cahli (sounds like Callie). That name was short for Calhoun, the son-in-law of the founder of the University I attended. I wanted desperately to name her after Clemson somehow, or one of the characters from the movie "Shag", and Calhi was the only thing I ended up liking.

On to the next animal, the first black lab daughter that Bryan and I adopted. I wanted to name this puppy something after Charleston since that was the place I grew up and I longed to get back. We housed her on our sun porch for quite some time, and after a week or two of trying to come up with names like Stono, Cooper, Ashley (all rivers here in town), or Folly, Sullivan or Edisto (all beaches around here). I then started with old Charleston names and never found one that struck me.

This poor puppy started out her life with us being kenneled on our sun porch when we went to work (or law school as was the case with Bryan). That's where she got paper trained and left all by herself until someone got home in the evenings or did a quick trip to come home for lunch to spend time with her. That's when it hit me (or hit a friend of mine - I can't remember who came up with it first)...Poogan. Poogan had to be this dog's name.

Why? Well, there was (and still is) a restaurant in the historic district, inside an old Charleston single house, called Poogan's Porch. It got its name because of the dog that used to frequent the porch. And so our little puppy got her name...Poogan.

Since then, Poogan and Cahli learned to love each other and are now both in that "big pet heaven in the (where ever it may be)". Because of this we now have more pets in our brood.

There's Oscar (who took over after Cahli's 14 year life ended [could have been only 12]). I let the children name him though I should have just done it my own self. I don't really know what my name would have been, but I don't think it would have been Oscar. But it pretty much suits him now. He was named for Will Smith's character in the movie "Shark Tale". For no particular reason other than they liked that movie at the time. We now like to pretend that he is a prim and proper English gentleman.

Then along came Felix (you also know him as my Trouble Cat). He's a black and white cat who is a fluffy version of Felix the Cat from the first 1960's animated show on TV. In the name deliberation process I was hoping for Bovine (Bo for short) or Holstein (as in the cow breed) because of his markings making him look like a fluffy Holstein/Bovine (aka cow). But none of the family would bite on these for some reason. So my mom offered up Felix in an ode to us having a Felix and Oscar of The Odd Couple from 1970's TV fame. Only my Felix and Oscar had swapped personalities from the ones on the TV show.

After Poogan died we adopted two dogs that we found with the help of Lowcountry Lab rescue.
The naming of the black one, Willis, was due in part to all of my old standby Charleston names and places being thrown out - AGAIN - and my jovial reading of signs in a mountain town as we traveled from visiting her. Jaunita (of Juanita's Taco Palace) was rejected as well as Ingle (of Ingle's grocery store), and several others (whew). Then I again, jokingly, threw the name Willis in the mix after seeing the sign for "Willis' Auto Body Repairs". With this dog being a girl I was truly joking (though it had a nice ring to it), and I was thinking, "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout Willis?" in the back of my mind when 3 year old Legare pipes up that he likes that name and that we should definitely call her "Lillis". And so there you go - that's how we got Willis.

That day of visiting Willis, we also decided to love and adopt a Yellow Lab (female) as well. Since we deliberated so long with naming her, and I kept calling her Yella Dog, and because Julia wanted her to have a girly name, unlike Willis', we chose Ella. Sounded like Yella (which she had already been responding too) and I convinced Julia that it was short for Cinderella. She bought it and thus...Ella had her name.

Along the way we had several fish, two of the last ones were named Cosmo and Melman (again from some kind of kid's tv shows or movies. Cosmo from "Fairly Odd Parents" and Melman, from the movie "Madagascar".

So that makes a total of 14 pets. 10 of which have definite ties to TV shows or movies (planned or not).

All of this to bring you to the name of our new furry baby. We planned and made lists just like always and have come up with the name Eloise ("Weesie" if you're in a hurry). Eloise, because we like the name. Not because we see her being a trouble maker like the little girl that lived in The Plaza hotel, but because we like the name AND the nickname it lent.

Since Eloise has had her own book and movies, and since there was Weesie Jefferson from "The Jefferson's", I guess it is now safe to say that, over my lifetime of having pets, the total is now 11 of 15 pets having to do with TV shows or Movies in some way or another.

Our New and Furry Family Member

This is the (sleepy) face we met this morning. We went looking for puppies and were a bit disappointed when we got there and only males were left. The owner promised there was one more female puppy and that her favorite place to sleep was wedged under the ramp that went into their storage shed.

Well she was there. DEEP back against the leading edge of the ramp and DEEP asleep. We finally got her out and it was very difficult to have her break her puppy coma. We decided we loved her and wanted her. The cheer the kids gave to Bryan when we had him on speaker phone making sure this is what we wanted was one like I haven't heard. And I've heard some good ones.



So we got her home and she perked right up. Excited to see her new surroundings and her new Big Sis Willis (our adult black lab). She frolliced and romped with Willis and showed Willis a toy so they could play. And then.....
And there she has been (for about 2 hours). I hope this doesn't mean she'll be up all night.
We haven't named her yet, but we have a list started.

Anyone want to add your 2 cents to the list? We're open for suggestions.

One Down....

So we've had these fish for quite a while. We've lived in this house for three years, and we had them for at least 3 before that. I didn't go out looking for fish to buy, or otherwise add to our brood, it just kind of happened.

I had a friend who gave fish as the "party favor" at her child's first birthday. My daughter was two and my son was not quite 6 weeks old. Both children got a fish that day (Tank and Orange-Orange). One died before the sun set the next day. And since it was already lovingly named by the two year old I felt obligated to get a new one. Thanks to the refractive nature of the glass bowl, she didn't realize there was only one fish until I was able to spend the twenty or so cents to replace.

Not to much time had past (several months, not quite a year), and these guys died. No big deal. And then, sweet Aunt Chelle gave each child a Beta fish while they were in her care for a weekend while we attended a football game. I can't complain - it was free babysitting. Now, my son was around 2, totally into the fish. We went through a few Beta's before I decided no more. Then, the cuteness of the children, and their willingness to spend their own money, got to me and I caved and took them to Walmart to get more fish (Cosmo and Melman). I steered the children to the "Gold" variety, helped them pick their bowls and a decorative bowl statue and we were on our way.

It wasn't until we moved in here that the fish moved in together - thanks to a slip of the bowl in the ceramic sink (my fault, not the children's). With nothing else to move Cosmo into, he and Melman became bunk mates; and have been until last week when Melman died. Upon looking back, I think it wasn't old age that took him, but the jump into the colander during his bowl cleaning that lead to me having to pick him up. I may or may not have had detergent on my hands at the time. This may or may not have killed him.

Well, Cosmo started looking sick. He just sat at the bottom of the bowl. Bryan was convinced he was on the way out too. I had changed the water after Melman's death and thought surely old age was taking the toll on him too. Then cuteness prevailed again, and Julia convinced me to splurge and I spent twenty nine cents and let her get a new fish.

So now we have Kevin. A cute goldfish variety that is silver on his bottom half with a blaze, neon orange top half. Very cute. And much smaller than Cosmo (chalking that up to being much younger). The craziest thing is that Cosmo has perked up and isn't just laying around on the bottom anymore. So instead of being on the countdown, "One Down, One to Go", kind of thing, we're back where we started. Again.

We have all decided that Cosmo was suffering from a bout of depression due to Melman's passing. Now we're all taking bets as to how much longer these guys will be with us.

While You Were Sleeping

It started with the dog waking in the middle of the night and me hoping she didn't want me to get up to let her out. This was in the wee hours of the morning - I don't really know when, 'cause this time I didn't look at the clock to see how much more time I had to sleep.

At 6:15 the alarm went off and I did the unusual thing of snoozing until 6:30. I hadn't done that since I had kids that need to be up and getting ready for school.

I headed to the kitchen, making sure the children were awake as I passed by their rooms. All was o.k .considering it was the first true day to require waking up since the time changed. I began getting ready to make breakfast when the dog came into the kitchen and wanted out - NOW. She usually wants out, but this time she didn't do her normal saunter, she wasn't waiting around. Which I thought was an urge to go potty.

As I was letting her out, it occurred to me that I could see light shining from the garage onto the driveway. This was not a good sign, this probably meant that Bryan left the light on, potentially inviting someone into the garage. Or, a bay door could be open possibly letting the dog out into the neighborhood (just an FYI - we never leave our garage doors open at night).

So I went down to check and I found not only the light on, but both bays open. CRAP. I checked my car (because I usually leave my purse in it), and the door was not shut all the way. My purse wasn't inside (I won't make you wait on this one....but it was up in the kitchen for the first time in like, EVER). So I headed in to see if my purse was in the house when I turned around and realized that our hide a key was in the door and then it dawned on me that the playroom light was on. So, I went in. And then noticed a big pile of papers where my Vera Bradley bag had been. And of course I kept getting more irritated at Bryan for leaving the bays up (he likes them up when he's outside) and leaving the key in the door. As I entered the playroom (did I mention my house is raised, so the garage laundry and playroom are on the ground floor and you go up stairs to get to the main part of the house?), my eyes took a second to focus on the fact that the entertainment console was bare. That's right - BARE (except for the dust).

And by BARE I mean no Wii console, no XBox, no games, no remotes, no cords. Nothing. Simply nothing. Luckily the TV is big and mounted on the wall - not so easy to pick up and take.

Long story short - I spent the morning with the finger print crew, mid morning thinking someone was in the house because of an opened door that had previously been closed and locked (this required the second visit of Charleston's Finest), mid afternoon shaking in my boots and answering a plethora of phone calls from concerned friends, loved ones and lock smiths. And then this evening I got a call from a neighbor telling me we weren't the only ones...about 4 other houses on his end of the street had been robbed. We don't know if they had been burglurized as we had been (the trespassory breaking and entering of the dwelling of another at night with an intent to commit a felony therein - and yes, they were in my house while we were upstairs sleeping), but apparently it had happened all over the neighborhood.

So back to the dog getting up in the wee hours, I think she heard them, went to check them out, and actually kept them from getting away with more. I keep thinking maybe they came upstairs because I am missing several stems of crystal from the dining room. And I keep saying "they" because the officers informed me that a patrol of the neighborhood was made in the middle of the night due to another neighbor calling because of seeing suspicious people out and about. So there was definitely a they.

So sad the fridge is out of beer right now. I sure could use one.

Felix is so Good, He's Getting Hired Out

You all know the stories of Felix earning his keep here with our family. I've talked about them here, and here.

Well, we have a favorite little haunt around the corner from the children's school. It's a very European "corner store" that sells a little bit of everything. Coffee, sodas, snacks, candy, baked goods, produce, boxed food items, beer, wine, milk, etc, etc. They even make the best crepes you have ever had. I had never had a savory crepe before eating theirs, but you can serve me one of theirs with goat cheese, ham, spinach and dill sauce any time. And that's just one of them that I'd take any time. I've slowly eaten my way around their crepe menu and haven't found one that I wouldn't get again.

So anyway, back to Felix. The other day I decided to stop and let the children get an after-school snack since I had some "Uncle Ken Money" (that's what the children are calling the money Mom gave us for Christmas because she said Uncle Ken always used to say you needed "walking around" money), and there was plenty of parking on the street.

Well, with all of the very unusual cold weather we're having, the rats have apparently decided to move in to the little store (very old, historic building with plenty of drafty holes) and Legare and I happened to see one. Well....we made light of seeing this furry creature when we went to the register and they were lamenting the recent "move in" that had taken place and that they needed a cat. Well....

....I shared with them the stories of Felix's prowess and they seriously asked if they could borrow him. So after I dropped Julia off at her play practice last night, Legare and I took Felix to the corner store.

With Litter box, food and a toy in tow. As we got there I took him straight to the back room (the room with the fancy beers and milk coolers). He got a scent and right away went around sniffing out the place. He was doing this all the while letting out the saddest cat cry you ever did hear. I think he thought we were going to leave him and never pick him back up. He finally went under a beer cooler and stayed.

Legare and I said good bye and good night, we left the girl my phone numbers in case she needed us, went on our way. Needless to say I thought about Felix all night. You could also tell that the other cat and the dog were kind of acting odd. We all wondered if we imagined it or if they were wondering where the heck Felix was.

Anyway, I picked him back up this morning after dropping the children off for school. I got there right before the store opened and we saw no signs of a dead rat. We did see signs of two TWIX bars being eaten. I don't know if they were there before or after we left Felix. At any rate, we can see no evidence of Felix being up to his normal stunts.

I offered to let them try it again. I also offered to help them pick out a cat at the Charleston Pet Helpers. We'll see what happens.

Was Mickey Mouse really a Mickey Rat?

Mickey Mouse made everyone love him. He had big, cute ears, big, dark eyes, and a super long tail.

He was a rodent. And his pointy nose and long tail really point to rat-type rodent, wouldn't you say? But we all loved him; because he was so cute!

I don't mind rodents. I've had hamsters and hosted the school Guinea Pig at our house this summer. I even enjoy looking (and occasionally oohing and aahhing) at rodents in pet stores. But I draw the line when they move into my house not in a cage. You know...just move in because they like my digs. I can't, and don't, tolerate it.

You may remember me mentioning some of the times we had run ins with mice when we lived under the red tin roof. These little mice were very cute, but very irritating. Always in the food cabinets. We trapped some, sticky trapped one (never again), and then trapped some more. We even let Felix have a run at getting one out of the cabinet in the kitchen. It took him about 10 seconds. I am not exaggerating. It may not have even taken that long.

So here I am at the new house (not that it's really new anymore since we've been here three years, it's just not the Red Tin Roof) and several weeks ago I walked the family to the car as Bryan took them to school and a motion caught my eye. It was a mouse in the dog's water bucket. So, I took it outside and poured it out. The poor little guy had been treading water for quite some time and just laid their catching his breath (ie: panting hard) when I dumped him out. I then realized that this mouse was pretty big for a cute gray mouse. Then it dawned on me that his nose was a bit pointy and his tail was twice as long as his body. OK...I had a rat. And I had just let him go.

What to do??? Get Felix. So I went and got Felix and introduced him to the still panting and out of breath rat and went back inside. I peered out of the window a few times and could see Felix up to something with the rat. After an inspection later I found no rat, but Felix seemed awfully content.

So a few days later, Bryan and I noticed a rat (or two) scurrying away in the mechanical/furnace room. There are a few places where you can access the bowels of the house if you're the size of a cat, so what did we do? We went and got Felix and put him in the mechanical room.

We then went next door to visit our neighbors and have a cocktail. About 10 minutes later we got a call from Julia that there was a dead rat in the floor of the playroom. NICELY DONE, FELIX!

So for a few days, we just let Felix come and go as he pleased in the furnace room. I thought we were done. I was also wrong.

We then began noticing rats in the garage. Up on the shelf where we store the pool umbrella, on the tool table, running up the vacuum cleaner line, and even simply scaling the drywall at face level scaring poor 11 year old girls.

So...Felix got to stay outside for several nights. But I never saw a dead rat. I also didn't really see them much after several days. Then they were back. I went and bought a BEAR TRAP of a rat trap as well as a conventional snap trap for rats. A few bags of poison were also thrown around some of their favorite haunts (away from my pets). All of this before Thanksgiving, and still no dead rats.

Until yesterday.

Driving in after getting the children from school there was a rat in the process of dying from poison in Bryan's spot in the garage. So he got scooped up and slung into the marsh behind the house. Then, this morning, the bear trap rat trap had done it's job and caught one too. Get that...nothing for weeks and then two in one day.

And let me tell you, even though they are in the bowels of my house and garage (luckily no evidence of them anywhere else), and even though I don't, let me repeat, DON"T want them in my house, I still feel awful when I see them dead or dying. Why...because I love animals. And because they are so danged cute. Seriously...see....

Our Sweet Animals Love Us So!

Over the years I've had many sweet gifts from my animals (can you feel the sarcasm yet?).
What kind of gifts, you ask? Many of you animal owners will have had some of these yourselves...

(live variety)
Lizards. Frogs. Mice. Baby Possums. Snakes

(half-alive variety)
Lizards. Frogs. Raccoons. Moles

(dead variety)
Lizards. Frogs. Raccoons. Moles. Rats. Mama Possums. Chickens (yes, chickens). Various Birds. Snakes. Fish. Bugs.

(dead and in the house variety)
Lizards. Bugs.
Until yesterday lizards and bugs were about the only critters that had actually been brought inside the house for us (or killed while in the house), most of the others (ie: the bigger ones) have been left at the doorstep or somewhere in the yard. But yesterday, I had a critter in the house that beat all critters....

Dead bird. In the middle of the carpet in Julia's room. NICE.

And it was a fledgling - still had pin feathers. I'm thinking the dog (who can hide all kinds of things in her very gentle, Labrador mouth) must have brought it in with her as we came in from school.

Just thought I'd share. (Have you had similar gifts left for you?)

Fleas

Yep. Fleas. All of my animals have them.
So, I do what any self respecting mother does and hop on PetMeds to order more flea medicine.
I did this Monday or Tuesday....it's already here today - can you believe that!?

I'm so excited. So I dose everyone up with the stuff you squeeze on them and give them each a Capstar. That's the pill that begins killing the live fleas within 20 minutes so that the topical stuff can start working it's 4 week magic more effectively.

I've always kind of felt sorry for, but also giggled a bit, at how funny it is to watch the animals scratch to death while the Capstar works its magic. It's a few minutes of misery until the fleas are all dead. Then - relief.

Except that I'm feeling awful for Felix (aka Trouble Cat). As the fleas began to start dieing this time he began running all over the house trying to find the perfect perch to get away from what ever it was that was making him itch. He was literally going mad. He jumped on the counter and tried to hide, he jumped on me and tried to hide, he RAN as I opened the door to go outside. He went under bushes, around the tree, up and over the fence...just like someone was chasing him. All the while letting out the most mournful cat sound you ever did hear.

He scaled the fence to get away and ended up hiding under the trailer in the driveway next door. Still with this awful moan. And panting. I am not laughing anymore. I am feeling horrible for my cat and hope he can make it through the next few hours of flea death. However, he has white fur and I was seeing a gracious amount of black spots surfacing in his fur, so hopefully it wont' take too long. Poor Guy! And per the Capstar product insert - this whole scenario is something, though rare, that can happen to cats.

And you wonder why we call him "Trouble"? If he's not into it, it follows him around.

Who's Your Alpha Dog?

I really did get a picture posted - hooray for me keeping my promise to you!

I keep writing in my head, trying to come up with a cute and witty way to relay this story, but I'm tired, and have just decided to go for it - leaving cuteness alone.

Everyone knows how much my cat and dog love each other. Felix (the 12 pound cat) and Willis (the 100 pound dog) are often found laying in the floor, licking and nuzzling one another. This always gets a laugh from friends who haven't witnessed this before. And it always makes me smile.

Willis loves the cat. And the cat uses Willis. Oh, I think he likes Willis a lot. I would even say he knows that Willis loves him. And Felix uses Willis' love for grooming and petting wants, and of late, for keeping warm. He (the cat) snuggles against her (the dog) everywhere - the yard, the house, and now - her bed.

Willis doesn't seem to like this so much.

At first I thought it was so cute to see a little cat all curled up and snug in Willis' big 'ol bed. Then, two nights ago, I realized that the dog is no longer getting in her bed for naps or to sleep at night. Even when the cat is not in the bed, Willis will not, and I mean WILL NOT, lay in it. (lie in it? you know what I mean).

I have invited Willis over to it and even kicked the cat out when necessary. And all Willis does is stand on it, sniff around and quickly retreat. She acts like Felix has marked it somehow (Felix is fixed). I've gone so far as to smell it, but the bed just smells like dog to me. I don't know what her nose is picking up on, but Willis will not enter the bed.

Because of this I have begun feeling sorry for the dog. I've always said this cat was Willis' Alpha Dog but this is ridiculous. Last night I decided to cover the bed with an old sheet. Finally, Willis decided to lay down and relax in her bed.

About 2 minutes later she was joined by Felix (a week ago I would have thought this was really cute and sweet). Willis quickly leaned down to nuzzle her cat then she shot a pleading glance at me from across the room. Felix continued snuggling in to Willis and even offered a few scratchy cat licks of appreciation. This was to no no avail, as Willis waited just long enough to be considered polite and then vacated.

Damn cat! I've told you over and over that he was trouble. I think I may get a shoebox or something and move Felix into that...he's shown a great love for boxes in the past.

If this doesn't work, do you have any suggestions?

Gratitude is Our Attitude!

That's the title of the literary work that my 10 year old daughter brought home on Monday. "Gratitude is Our Attitude" is the class motto and yes, the teacher weaves that through everything they do. It's fantastic.

Well, since Thanksgiving is tomorrow, I thought I would share this piece of work with you. For the assignment the class was given the title and told to come up with a list of at least 7 things they were grateful for. And since they were in computer class, this is typed and alternating colors are used on each line. I'll try to duplicate it here. These colors are very "fall" like.

Gratitude is Our Attitude!

I am grateful for...
..God because he created me.
..my dog because she's a friend when I'm alone.
..my friends because they comfort me when I'm sad.
..my family because they're always there for me.
..my shelter so I'm not out side.
..scientists for all they do for us.
..nature for fresh air.
..my grandparents for everything they've done for me.
..technology because I can learn more.
..everyone for everything.


That pretty much sums it up, don't you think? Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I'm grateful for your friendship and for those I don't know, that you stop by and read.

25 Rubber Bands Today

That's right = 25!
He decided to forgo the individual bands and picked out her whole "spring ring" that's full of them.
All his favorite colors - including the yellow and black ones.

Crazy cat!

Trouble Cat's Getting Kids in Trouble

My cat, Felix, is a true original.
I call him Trouble Cat. And sometimes he is - for instance he has gotten my sweet daughter in trouble.

Some time ago I was finding rubber hair bands ALL OVER the house. I kept thinking Julia and her friends had been doing American Girl hair and were leaving them everywhere. I then thought that I was finding them in the pantry and closets because the cats were finding these left behind hairbands and turning them into their toys.

One day - downstairs in the playroom - I think I found 7 or more. And I blew it. When Julia got home I crawled her about how tired I was at finding and picking up these hairbands and I made her pick them up right then and there. She swore she didn't do it. To which I think I answered that I didn't think it was her brother and his friends.

Then one day, when I was tidying her room, Trouble Cat was sitting on her table watching me. I then saw him stand up and gaze into her little "hair basket" that was on her desk. He took his paws, shuffled them around until he found the one he wanted (yellow) and sauntered away with it to go play. I shared this with Julia and we had a good laugh.

Since then we have caught him opening the drawer in the bathroom where they are now kept (it's down low near the floor). But before we actually saw him do this we kept finding piles in the bathroom floor. Seriously usually 5 or more. Some plain bands and some with ribbons. We just thought he was finding them in forgotten places.

Then we saw him actually choosing his poison.
And he'll do it on demand. If you're around in the bathroom, he'll come check you out to see if you are going to create easy access. If not, he politely uses his paw to open the drawer and help himself. It's almost on demand.

I told you he was Trouble.

March Showers bring May Puppies

Haven't posted since our fun Spring Break "quickie" to Myrtle Beach - pictures will be coming - the kids had a ball.
But I thought now would be an o.k. time to let you know our fun new news...

Some of you may know that Bryan and I have been talking about getting a puppy to add to our furry brood. Well, looks like we're going to have a litter. If we can find them all homes hopefully we'll only have a litter for 8 weeks or so, but one never knows.

Seems as if when Willis got "fixed" when we adopted her, she didn't really get fixed - or it didn't take. They always say there's that chance - but that never happens to us, right?!
I noticed not long ago that she's had an odd place at the base of her tail, and wondered what it was. I just assumed she'd been getting under the car and it was an oily spot. And now, several weeks later, after a trip to the vet because she's been acting odd and getting fat, we have been told that we're going to be Grandparents.

WHAT!! This isn't some poisoning that can wear off? I like to think I'm a bit more science savy than being blindsided like this! How did I not see it?

No, I never noticed a heat - why would I? I wasn't looking for it, after all - SHE'D BEEN FIXED! And though she has had a rare few occasions where she has gotten out and visited down the street, I had no idea! And I have no idea who Dad is either!

Well, the vet has told us that these bundles of joy should be with us in approximately 1 month. Canine gestation is about 60-64 days and she's already half way through. So, come the end of May, if anyone you know wants a cute puppy (a mix of Lab and whoknowswhat) we'll have several ready to go to good homes. Hopefully I won't have to take them to the pound - that would break my heart. I'll keep you all posted!

Not my Trouble Cat!

Cute picture.

And I promise it's not Felix... even though I'm sure my "Mr. Trouble" could find a "warming bidet" somewhere. This and other funny cat pictures can be found at www.icanhascheezburger.com

Enjoy!

Standard Operating Procedure

Anytime I'm on the laptop, so is Felix. Here's a picture from back in the summer showing what his standard operating mode is when anyone is on the laptop. He saves this behavior for me and the kids. Bryan wouldn't be so accommodating. As I'm typing currently, I'm slightly contorted to the right to give him room. I did manage to get him onto my thigh this morning instead of the keyboard.

I always try to claim my space, but he never seems to care. He just readjusts. The only thing that would persuade him to leave would be to physically remove him. But he's too warm and purr-y to do that. What you call the true Warm Fuzzy. Deep down I really don't mind. And the kids don't either.

Oh, the Places We Nap

Felix: the children's dirty, dark clothes hamper that's left in the hall on laundry day
Oscar: making a nest on the fabric that may be eventually be hung in the master bath

Felix: catching some z's in the master closet under and on top of Bryan's clothes

Oscar: under the warmth of the vanity lights

Oscar: cuddled up on the pillows on my bed. He does this frequently on Julia's as well

Musings from the Cat

"b b bnnb..;;.;m, k bnjjnccd

de4ededxchvhy v huu yvuvuvu7v7y7y7vbv vbb n88u8uoi989"

Things the cat could write if he thought to push down where his paws were resting. Instead, I pushed them down for him.

He will lots of times stretch out under and across me while I'm on the computer. But tonight I thought it quite appropriate that he stretched out his front legs when I had the picture of Farm Girl's cute, newly hatched chicks on screen. So I thought I would come back here to let him type out a message.

I think translated, his note must say something about wanting chicken for dinner.

My short bout of typing here has aggravated him enough that he decided to leave.

"Best Of" 2006

Let me know if you think I have left out that "one favorite". These are the ones I think Mom liked most.

Dolphin Funeral

The Naivete of Children

Check out the Frog

A little Tin Roof Wildlife

Thought You might Enjoy a few Pictures

Boogie Fever - Tiger Style

**other requests I had forgotten

Fire Seasaon Has Begun