Things I thought you should know.

Some people have extra compassion for certain types of animals. For example, I am a sucker for a deaf dog. One of my rescue friends told me she likes older cats, and Abyssinians. She offered to take Barney Rubble from me to foster, and I immediately said "Yes, can I bring him to you tonight?" I wanted to make sure she didn't change her mind. But I have to tell you, I already miss the old guy. Okay, not really. I am just grateful to my friend for taking him. Not nearly as grateful as Barney is, but still - very grateful. It also opened up room at my house to save some kittens. More about them tomorrow  whenever I get around to taking their pictures soon.  

Remember Duke? He used to be my foster dog. Then he ate my wall. Then I persuaded another foster home to take him, by taking one of her foster dogs that didn't get along with her own dog. We switched fosters, and the foster dog I took from her got adopted almost immediately, while she's had Duke for over three months now. In my own defense, I have offered to take Duke back - several times. The first time was right after he ate her wall. The second time was after he dug out of the yard underneath the fence. The remaining times were usually after another one of my foster dogs went home and I had room to take him back. Each time she declined, claiming she liked the little guy. So I happily went on with taking in other foster dogs that as of yet have NOT eaten any drywall in my house. Oh and as for Duke, last Saturday he went out on a trial adoption! I am now taking bets on how long it'll be before he eats their wall and gets returned. Is that wrong?


You know how sometimes you hear a story after its been told by several people, and later you find out all of the details were wrong? I'm about to tell you one of those stories, and since I don't know all of the details, I think I'll make up some of my own. Just so you know.

A family was driving down the road in their car, their much loved family dog on the seat next to them. The dog had been with them for his whole life, and he was now a senior dog, looking forward to spending his last years with his family. Then the family was pulled over, and the police officer found that they were illegal aliens. The family was detained by Immigration, and the dog was removed and sent to a shelter.  The dog was so depressed, he decided to live out the rest of his days under a van. 

No, not really.  The ending of the story hasn't been written yet. The dog is in a shelter now. Will he find a new home with owners who will love him his remaining days? Will he take too long to be adopted, and have to be euthanized? I met him at an adoption event last weekend. He was napping in the shade under a van. I thought about joining him, but I didn't want to get too attached. And I didn't want people to make fun of me. But mostly I didn't want to get too attached.

Ziggy is still with me, and is still generating as much drama as ever. My sister asked if it would be possible to just give him away. I told her no one would take him.  Then my husband asked if we could just let him go free (he wants to do this with the cats on a regular basis too). I told him Ziggy was microchipped so he'd just find his way back to us. He was still willing to take the chance, but I said no. On the plus side, all of the All Paws volunteers agree with me that he is making progress. For example, at adoptions this Saturday he chewed up and ate the following: two rawhide bones, six beef jerky treats, four pieces of trash found on the ground, one dog toy, and twenty-seven sticks. This is an improvement because last week he ate all of that plus a plastic water bottle. Also because he spent a little bit less of his time trying to chew on people's hands this week. Overall, I'm very satisfied that our training regimen is working. At this rate of improvement, he is still on track to be adoptable by the time he turns three or four years old!

Actually I may have figured out a way to market Ziggy a little bit more. Besides his Fan Club (autographed pictures are forthcoming to all fans!), I think I can leverage the whole "Green" Environmental craze to get Ziggy a home. After all, we already know he is a "green" dog. And obviously he is working hard to recycle every single thing he can fit in his mouth. If I can turn it into a positive instead of a negative, maybe Ziggy will be in high demand! In the meantime, I'm still keeping an eye out for that lumberjack family to come along.

Introducing Barney Rubble

He's old. Almost as old as his namesake from the Flintstones. Someone heard him, sitting in the road outside their house, crying for hours. They finally went outside to see what was wrong. He was limping, and was all wet like someone had thrown water on him. He was dirty, and he was hungry. And he was so happy to have someone to love. He began purring and rubbing against the person, as though asking for help. They brought him in and fed him, gave him a bath, and then they contacted me for help. I agreed to take him if we couldn't find his owners. At the time I didn't know he was ancient.

The vet did x-rays since Barney's leg was injured, and fortunately nothing was broken. His blood tests all looked good except he has a UTI so he needs medicine for that, and then he'll need a dental to clean up the very few teeth he has left in his mouth. The vet said he is an Abyssinian, which explains his unique coloring.

Finding homes for one year old cats is difficult enough - I have never tried, but I think it is going to be very difficult to find a home for a twelve to fourteen year old cat. I'm embarrassed to admit that since the day I took Barney home, I have been feeling sorry for myself for being "stuck with" an ancient cat that may never be adopted. When I should have been feeling sorry for him, being stuck with me and the rest of my pets and foster pets. My house is definitely not his idea of a cushy retirement home. He's been through some awful things, lost his home, his family, and his familiar surroundings. Somehow he injured his leg (which now seems to be healing) and now he's stuck in a scary place with loud dogs and a person that comes in twice a day and shoves some really bad tasting medicine down his throat. I am sure he is just wishing he could go back home. Maybe his family didn't look for him because they couldn't be bothered. Maybe they looked but they were looking in the wrong places. Maybe they just kicked him out when he got too old. I don't know what happened, but if Barney had been microchipped we'd have been able to find out. Please microchip your pets. Don't ever make them go through what Barney is going through. Even grouchy ancient Abyssinians don't deserve that.