Too bad it kept moving on him.

Turkey dogs and toothpaste (or to be more precise, freshly brushed teeth) really don't mix. Yes it seems obvious, but I was running late this morning. May have turned me off of turkey dogs for a while, though.

It's been a very educational week for me. I've learned a lot of new things and feel it is my duty to share with the world. If it helps even one person, my work will be done.

Life Lesson #1
When you're watching Scare Tactics and they mention the upcoming clip involves a clown, CHANGE THE CHANNEL. Otherwise you will be up all night. Don't believe me? See for yourself:

Life Lesson #2
When your friend asks you to be in his wedding, always ask what they have planned for the reception before agreeing. Otherwise you'll buy the dress and then six months before the wedding find out there's no graceful way to get out of it when you get an email like this:

PS: We all need to learn this dance before April. :)  Start practicing!!!!

Yeah, I'm sure there will be video come April. Just another reason for me not to join facebook.

Life Lesson #3
It's okay to put training treats in your mouth when you're working with your 30 pound terrier mix because you know she's going to jump up in a moment of unbridled enthusiasm. It's not a good idea to put training treats in your mouth when you're showing the inmates that's it's possible to work a totally untrained dog without yelling and jerking the leash when the dog looks like this:

150 pound, untrained, 18 month old mastiff
+
4' 10" tall person with training treats in the mouth
=
my nose touching the back of my skull.

Life Lesson #4
Enjoy the simple things in life. And there's nothing simpler than half a rawhide stick:

I guess you can teach an old weasel new tricks. Who knew!?

Photographic evidence of the Terrifying Headless Husky

Scary no matter which way you look at it

Maybe it isn't totally headless; it does have a nose after all

Two of the residents of my household are suffering from serious ear infections. They're both walking around with their left ears cocked to one side and are having some balance problems. I've got ear medicine for both of them and the treatment is beginning to work. But wouldn't you know it, the patients are Quinn and Dodger - the two residents who HATE to be touched.

I'm really surprised the neighbors haven't called animal control on me (of course I'd probably be the one answering the phone so it doesn't matter). I corner Dodger and she starts screeching like a banshee while I hold her down and put the medicine in her ears. Then I have to lock Eli and Avery into their crates and listen to them scream while I chase Quinn around the house trying to corner him and get the medicine into his ears.

Of course they might be a tad more cooperative if I didn't laugh at them so much. Poor Dodger tries to jump from the floor to the back of the couch but the vertigo takes over about halfway between. She usually ends up bouncing off the back of the couch and running along it trying to figure out which way is up. And poor Quinn starts to shake his head and his back end goes out from under him; then he can't get up. Every try to hoist a dog that doesn't like to be touched up off of the floor? Not a recommended form of exercise!

I'm still trying to get a picture of the pair of them with their ears sticking out to one side, it is really cute to see.

Random Images

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The light at the end of the tunnel!

The same shot summer and fall

When your dog is this tired?

You tuck her in for the night

I swore in January that I wasn't doing any favors for anybody this year. I also swore I wasn't going to be involved in the new dog park in town. So how in the world did I end up doing both (and then some) all in one day?

When the kennel manager at the shelter said she wanted her birthday off and asked if I'd work for her, I didn't even think before saying "No problem".

When the shelter director asked for some help with the grand opening celebrations for the dog park, I didn't even think before saying "No problem".

When Avery gave me that "we are going to agility class, right" look, I didn't even think before saying "No problem".

When it occurred to me that all of these things would be happening today, I started to see the problem. The first problem being I had to be at the shelter at 8 am. Since becoming unemployed, I don't generally get up much before 8 am. Even the dogs looked at me with disbelief when I dragged them outside (in the dark) at 7 am.

Get the dogs fed and myself ready for work. No time to prepare something to eat, so breakfast was a Devil Dog. Spend the next four hours running around the shelter. Finally lock the doors at noon with plans of running home, picking up Avery and heading to agility class.

Problem number two cropped up when one of my little volunteers called her mom for a ride home and mom hadn't arrived by noon. There's no way I'm leaving this 14 year old girl standing by herself in front of the shelter; so I had to stick around until mom showed up at 12:15. Pretty sure this was the same volunteer who called last week and wanted to come in early because "my mom wants to go to Bingo so she'll need to drop me off before 8:00" Which begs the question, what kind of freak goes to bingo at 8:00 in the morning? Followed by why do so many people think we're here to babysit their children?

Get home and have just enough time to slice up turkey dogs for training treats and head to Muncie for agility. Problem number three arose. Problem being the Devil Dog had worn off and I'm now starving. I ended up eating half of the turkey dogs before we even got to class. And, of course, ran out of them way before class was over. Not to mention the fact that Avery was so wound up about being crated all morning that she had difficulty focusing on the task at hand - which just gave me another excuse to eat turkey dogs during class.

Class ran late (of course) but we finally made it back to New Castle. My "low gas" light came on right at the town line so I had just enough to get us to the park. Due to the fact that it was 45 degrees out and raining, they decided to wrap things up early. Finally something goes my way!

I got there just in time to help clean up. Well, and to check the quality of the fence before deciding whether to join the park at all. I met the fence guy several times and all I can say is holy crap on a cracker! I know more about putting up a fence than this guy! No way I was going to let huskies loose inside that thing if he didn't get around to securing it.

Finally got home at 4:00 with Avery's leash in one hand and a personal pizza in the other. I'm done for the day! I don't care what anybody asks me for, there will be no more favors for at least six months. And damn, I was only outside for half an hour but I'm still chilled to the bone. I think it's time to consider relocating to Arizona.

Well, after a promising few days my little bunny friend took a turn for the worst last night. I'm so bummed out. He started out so well; he was eating and he even moved around a little in his crate. I even saw him twitch one of his back legs. I knew his survival was a long shot, but I was starting to feel so positive about his prognosis.

I'd joined two online forums, one for rabbit owners and one for people with disabled rabbits (you really can find anything on the internet), and the general consensus was he wasn't a wild rabbit but rather an agouti colored domestic rabbit. So I was already starting to ponder names and long-term caging options for the little guy.

But in the end it wasn't meant to be. Poor little guy went through so much and he just couldn't go on. At least he spent his last few days safe and loved with a full belly. And he received a proper burial in my backyard, right under my bedroom window. I could have taken him back to the shelter for disposal, but how else would I have learned not to try digging a hole wearing Crocs?

Of course the biggest problem is that now I really want a bunny. I've never had a house rabbit before and I really like the looks and personality of the Flemish Giant. Pretty sure a 15-20 pound rabbit can hold its own with Avery and the cats. The boys would probably be scared to death of it given their absolute terror of Amadeus.

So now I really need to find a job so I can satisfy my bunny lust.

RIP little bunny!

For nearly 15 years, any animal in my care goes to the same vet clinic and sees one of two or three vets. Dr. Wisecup and Dr. Rich have been the main vets in the practice. Thanks in large part to me and mine, Dr. Rich was able to fully pay tuition to vet school for the next generation - his son, Dr. Rich II.

Dr. Wisecup has cut his hours quite a bit since the addition of the new vet, so odds are when I take someone into the office we're going to see a Dr. Rich. The process and conversation is pretty routine. Tech comes in and does the preliminary, then says "Dr. Rich will be in soon" I say "Okay, thanks" and the tech leaves the room. Oddly enough, the routine is pretty similar when I go to the dentist. Hygienist comes in and does the preliminary, then says "Dr. Rusch will be in soon" I say "Okay, thanks" and the tech leaves the room.

So today I'm at the dentist, the hygienist comes in and does the preliminary, then says "Dr. Rich will be in soon" I say "Okay, tha-. Wait! What?" I had a moment of total panic there. Why oh why would my vet be working on my teeth?! I usually give the vet a hard time when I see him, is this some form of cruel and unusual payback?

I forgot that Dr. Rich II is married to a dentist. Turns out she is the new doc in my dentist's office. So now it seems I'm not only going to have to keep track of my appointments and the dogs' appointments, but now I'll have to keep track of which Rich is which to figure out who goes to what appointment when and where. Not to mention trying to explain that the dogs and I don't really see the same doctor, just doctors with the same name.

Although, I can't help wonder which Rich Quinn should see. Look at those scary teeth!