Zero Balance

For once, and I know it may not last, I have a zero balance at the Vet's office. For some, especially my vet, its the equivalent of paying off a mortgage. A huge endeavor, and a wonderful event. I think this needs to be reflected in my credit report. Heck, even a billboard might be in order.

True publishing this proclamation may in fact jinx things. But, why miss a chance to celebrate. This has been a life goal of sorts. Thankfully, my vet has given me lots of time to get there.

On the other hand, those bills at the clinic are memories, some good, some not so good. Either way they deserve honor. I believe a trip out to the pine trees where Kobe and Maddie are buried is in order. Those bills were a necessity to care for my Prince and Ms. Maddie in their illnesses. I wouldn't have missed that for the world. So, vet bills are/were a good thing. I did a lot of loving at the clinic. Those bills weren't necessarily a bad thing.

So, while my vet bill has a zero balance, my heart is full to the top. Both good things in my book.

The State of Rescue in Nebraska

The state of Nebraska recently passed Legislative Bill 910. This bill establishes a new licensing category for animal rescues operating in the state. This bill is intended to weed out rescues that operate with very bad conditions, and others that are animal hoarders calling themselves rescues. There is a mandatory $150 annual fee for licensing, a mountain of paperwork to fill out, and required inspection of the property. This applies to state run rescue organizations and national breed rescues that operate in the state of NE.

In the attempt to weed out some irreputable "rescues", the state may also run out some national rescue organizations that work tirelessly to promote breed rescues and save dogs. Pointer Rescue Organization is one such rescue entity. We have foster homes in many states across the US. If every state charged a licensing fee, such as NE, GA and MA do, many, many dogs would die in shelters because no one stepped up to save them.

Pointer Rescue is in the process of determining if they will pull out of state of NE, as it has ceased assisting dogs in GA and MA. As the only Pointer Rescue Organization volunteer in the state of NE it breaks my heart to know this may happen. Rescue organizations are run by volunteers who give their heart and soul to help just one more dog find it's forever home. How sad that in an effort to weed out the few bad "rescues" we also eliminate some of the good ones.

Visiting Dignitaries

I think anyone who doesn't like animals should immediately be deemed suspect and have their DNA tested for genetic abnormalities. The flip side of that is that anyone who is an animal lover, especially a dog lover (I am a bit biased) should move to the head of the class. So perhaps I'm making some wild generalizations, but there is some truth to this theory.

The Big Guy upstairs led me to the dogs, and in turn the dogs have led me to some awesome people. We enjoyed the company of one of those dog lovers last night. The fact that we had never met before was irrelevant. A friend of a friend of a friend who is a dog lover is a friend of mine. If they are a pointer lover even better.

Ms. Sophie was quite enamored with our visitor. Sophie rubbed against her like dogs do a dead fish on the river bank. Really, I mean that in the nicest possible way!! Hank graciously leaned into her for some loving in his "it's all about me" sort of way, and Mick did the whole "I'll make like I'm shaking hands, but really I want to see some cleavage" manuever. Amanda was enchanted (I think) as only a dog lover would be! I mean really, if a strange human did those moves the police would be called. Thank God dogs have a special magic that makes them all the more loveable for acting this way.

Suffice it to say, if there was an underground railroad of dog lovers we would be a safe house along the way. Our door is open to dog lovers. That just about says it all.

Returning the Favor

Several years ago, Prince Kobe went walk-about. He ambled off the property and took a little stroll. I suspect he just wanted to wander and enjoy the neighborhood. He only got about 1/2 a block from home - thank God - before some kind woman picked him up and took him to the shelter. Kobe was walking with a dreaded cone of horror on, so I'm sure he only saw straight in front of him and missed some of the sights.

Today I got to return the favor. A little Shih Tzu, named Snickers, wandered into the yard. How could you not help a dog named Snickers? The gods of candy karma would smite you if you didn't! I tried to call the owner, but got no answer. Luckily Snickers was micro-chipped, licensed and had a tag with his owner's phone number on it. One of his tags said he "needs medicine". He was obviously well loved.

Now, I'm hoping he was really lost. My luck he was visiting a neighbor and just wandered out to the front yard. No one else was in sight and I wasn't taking any chances. Snickers got the same treatment Prince Kobe did. A gentle hand, some kind words and ride to the shelter to wait for his owner.

What goes around, comes around. I was happy to return the favor.

My House My Rules

Part of the joy of fostering is seeing a dog learn and blossom. In some cases, especially a dog like Sophie, you get to see them put aside their fears and just become a dog again. Many times they learn from other dogs, which is a blessing because there are just some dog behaviors I don't mimic very well! This in itself is a good reason to own multiple dogs - as if I needed a legitimate reason.

We have to laugh at little Ms. Sophie. She's decided it is canine appropriate to bark ferociously when someone walks in the front door. No, she didn't learn this from the other dogs. Unless the spirit of Ms. Maddie is teaching from over the bridge. Two nights in a row she's gone ape sh*t when Reno has walked in the front door. We have laughed ourselves silly over this. Little Miss Chicken Little charging down the stairs barking up a storm. Until she remembers to be scared and dashes to the safety of her crate again. Either she is taking ownership of the house, or she has had years of abuse from men and she's starting to say she's not taking it anymore!! I'm voting for the former. But the latter is not bad either.

Growth happens, fears pass, joy returns - sometimes it's a noisy process.

Did I Listen?

Sophie told me. But did I listen? Ummmm, no.

You often hear of dog owners who are livid with their dogs because they got into the trash, or soiled their crate, or made some other mess. Basically they were doing what dogs do. The owner has the responsibility to prevent issues or respond to them in the process. It's not always the dogs problem.

Case in point. I spent the first 50 minutes of this morning cleaning Ms. Sophie's crate and some carpet what had been soiled during the night. Not a fun way to spend your morning, but I absolutely can't blame her. She told me, around 3:30am that she needed to go out. Granted, what she said, and what my brain was willing to hear were two different things. She was most emphatic in her need, and I was most reluctant in my bed.

In my defense, the rowdy neighbors were hitting the obnoxious stage in their party. I did not want to be seen darting out in my robe with a dog who is known to have performance issues while relieving herself. I did take her out the back door, which we never do. I didn't give her sufficient time before scooting in the back door which we also never do. Nothing like stressing her a bit more. Bless her heart, not long after she again sent a rather direct message that she needed to go back out, but I refused to listen. I hope she will accept my apology.

It was a rough night for Ms. Sophie. For me not a great morning, but part of fostering and owning dogs. Sh@t happens. And sometimes it's in the crate. I didn't do my "owner" part very well with her last night. So I had my work cut out for me this morning. Thank goodness "To Err is Human, To Forgive Canine".

Whiskers

No, this blog is not about a pup named Whiskers.  But I usually write about the dogs.  Since I referenced dogs during my first sentence I can move on to other subjects.

This blog is for my friend Joan who pondered recently why women are cursed in later life with facial hair.  I've been thinking about this myself lately.  Her query got me thinking even more about it.  Well, and then last night while doing some selective tweezing I thought about it yet again.

I told Joan whiskers were pay back from the whole Adam & Eve fiasco with the apple in the Garden of Eden.  I believe menstrual cramps, menopause and mood swings are also the result of that.  Funny how plucking used to be limited to eye brows.  Mmmm, not so much anymore.  It's just not fair I tell you.

I admit experiencing a fair amount of angst about this.  They say to embrace your beauty as you age, but I don't think this applies to facial hair.  I reserve the right to detest this part of aging.  I used to adore my mascara wand, now my tweezers have more value.  The other day I wondered if duct tape could be used like wax for hair removal.  No, I wasn't drinking when this thought came to me.  I haven't actually tried it, some things are best left to professionals.

So, my dear friend Joan - I feel your pain.  The women of the world (at least the older women) can relate.  One day your skin is smooth and lovely, the next there is a wicked long whisker.  At least we have tweezers.  Eve probably didn't.