Meet Contessa!

This is Contessa, Tess or Tessa for short. She's a Dachshund mix mom adopted on Wednesday. She was born Jan 9, 2008 according to the adoption papers. Which means they probably made that up since she's a little over a year old. She is leash and potty trained. We pulled up and a volunteer was walking "Lilly" (their name didn't fit). Mom looked at her and said "I want him." It's a her, of course, but she's not pregnant and very loving. Wednesday I got tired after bringing her home and we took a nap for 1.5 hours. She and I were cheek-to-cheek. Apparently she's been looking for me since I left. (Aww!) We adopted her from the Georgia SPCA, which was about 5 minutes from my mom's house.


She enjoys playing in the freshly-cut grass. Later today we're gonna take her to the vet and then PetSmart to get some cute clothes since it's getting chilly here. Don't want her getting sick! She's on Blue Buffalo food, since it's highly recommended on not being grain based. We don't want her getting heavy like Wrinkles was. She still doesn't know what to do with beds and toys. Treats are kind of a hit or miss, mostly miss. But she found the Kong with little treats fairly entertaining Wednesday night. Tessa jumps on the bed from the floor, which is no small feat. Mom has high box springs and a nice padded mattress. She's doing so well. Glad I dragged Mama there now. She needs companionship. And Tess is a complete lapdog and shadow. No one gets out of her sight.

I can't wait to see her tomorrow. The picture quality sucks since all I had was my camera, but I'm taking my Rebel over tomorrow to take better pics. Tessa is an absolute doll. And smart! She rode in the back, without use teaching, her leash attached. We didn't have a crate since we thought we'd have to wait a few days. Not so much apparently.

There was an adorable Cocker/Beagle mix that I would have snatched up if I had a fenced in yard. He was only 4 months, but so cute! Eli was simply precious.

Damn it all to pupperoni!

Well, Gale is off.

You see, for some reason, in the time animal control had her...no one thought to, oh, I don't know, examine her, before placing her out for adoption. So it was quite a surprise that the dog had a pup last night. Right, you have the dog a week, that we know of, and you don't bother to examine it in that time? How the hell do you know they don't have rabies and stuff exactly, then?

If we want to wait on Gale, it'll be two months of my mom being in an even deeper funk. Gale was helping her get over Wrinkles, helping her feel better. Right. So, I wonder, do shelter workers even fucking EXAMINE the dogs? At all? Gale will be living in a foster home during that time and we'll have first choice. Yeah, dude. We've been this route. Mom lost another dog because of puppies through rescue. This is becoming a joke, I swear to god. I'm starting to think that the rescue system can go to hell with all the "unexpected babies." It's really easy - examine before placing. Seriously. Not difficult.

Now my mom feels like shit and I'm pissed off an angry. Fantastic.

Here She Comes....

So! We all know Wrinkles was put to sleep last July, yes? If not, here's the post. For the longest time, Mom thought she had killed Wrinks instead of setting her free of pain. Recently, about 2 months ago, she started consider getting another dog. I am an aficionado of Petfinder by now; I was already proficient to begin with. She's been interested in some breeds: Havanese Silk Dog, Papillion, Yorkie, Shih Tzu, Lhasa Apso to name a few. She contacted a Havanese breeder, but apparently, you can love a dog too much. For 1400, um, I'd think that would be a good thing. But moving on.

She backed off for a bit then I showed her a pic of this adorable dog named Wilma. Wilma had unexpected puppies and that pushed her date back, what with Bam Bam and Pebbles being in the world and all. Cool. We had 2 months to wait, but we'd be able to. However, I think the receptionist of the rescue was bugnuts. She said a) they weren't taking names or applications - even though Mom had filled one out already, and b) Wilma magically no longer appeared on the website. Personally? I think Wilma went to a friend of a rescue worker. Call me crazy, but it was just too WTF.

Mom was kinda depressed for a couple days and went back to Petfinder. She kept printing out Paps, which is great, but I don't think she'd like to take that much care of the groomer. That's a lot for a 75-year-old woman, let's face it.

So Monday night, she spent the night with me because we were meeting her CPA for lunch out here. Yesterday after lunch we were going to look for animals at Fulton County Animal Shelter while out here, but dude, who the hell can find it? So I said fuck it and went to the one in her home county. Five minutes and she walked out, max. She wasn't into it. So I was pissed because a) that was a bitch to find and b) she wasn't understanding the fact finding another Wrinks was impossible. So I lambasted her. We got back to her house. I was fuming still. I explained why she needed to go meet the dogs and understand that there will be no other dog like her. Finally it sunk in.

Made her get the clothes back on and we went back (again, during the beginning of traffic on a very weird highway that also has two stoplights at busy intersections). I pointed out the one I thought she'd like....the same one I showed her the first time.

We got the dog out and the lady went to see if the dog had any holds on her. She didn't. Outside, we got to know the dog. Such a lover! Stayed in our arms the whole time, except for when she had to pee and poop. Apparently she's house- and leash trained. Such a doll! We put a hold on her and pick her up next Tuesday. Has to get spayed and checked out by the vet first. I can't wait! Mom fell in love instantly. She was a stray that was wandering about. At 2, the dog is a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix.

Afterwards we went and bought some basics (rain jacket (with duckies!) and sweater), water & food bowl, food mat, leash, harness, toys, shampoo & washing glove, and beds. Oh! And food and treats. She's gonna be so lovely to have around for my mom, and my instincts were right. I know her so well. I can't wait to meet her personality. Got a doxie body with a dox muzzle and one ear that goes up and one down. Oh my gosh. I can't wait to have pics to show you.

The name choices so far are: Charlie, Chloe, and Maya. More to be added as I look for soft, feminine names. I need to look them up this week on homework break.

My former BFF also found her German Shepherd mix puppy there, too. She goes home today.

Now! The interesting part. Our Animal Control moved in Sept 2007 to this great facility that has 33,000 sq feet. It has a bigger area for the K-9 unit, a barn for livestock, and a spay/neuter facility on hand. That means you can find an interesting mix. On the first visit, looking out the back of the dog's viewing area, I looked up and blinked. Really, really blinked. Why would that be, you ask? Glad you asked!

There.Was.A.Mid-sized.Bull.Calf.Out.Back. Talk about freak out! I was a little leery, what with the calf having the horns already. Apparently, it was theirs now to find a new home for and caged in for now until the pen was ready. I still gulped. A lot. And there were two men outside with him. Strange men. I was freaked out, still.

Attack of the Cat

I hope everyone had a good New Year's. Mine was fairly uneventful, which is the way I like them. No resolutions because I never make them past the first week. So, whatever. Tomorrow I need to hit the grocery and post office.

But that's not the point of this post. I realized the other day that I hadn't introduced my latest cat.

In October, after I moved here I decided Noelle needed a playmate. A single cat can be destructive after all. So I looked on Craigslist, selected a cat. I could have chosen a purebred Ragdoll (so close!) but decided to take a Ragdoll/Siamese mix. A mix I think is dead wrong, for the record. I think she's a purebred Snowshoe.

So, I got her a week after I moved in, after my mom went home from fracturing her nose. She has talent, that one. Anyway, so the cat arrived with the name Bindy. I promptly decided to change it. For the next five days I tried out over 30 names, and it wasn't until after the doctor visit she answered to Teyla. As in, the character from Stargate Atlantis, which is ironic since she's not nearly as calm as the Amazon queen. But the name stuck so there you have it.

Here's her story. Her original owner died and a cousin took Tey, locking her in a back room during the time before they move. They feed her nothing but wet food. No dry, which meant the week after I got her was...interesting. The smell was there, oh yeah. She moved again, a couple months later - making her second move - when they changed apartments. So just when she settled into the new place, in the daughter's bedroom, they left and a family member came in and rearranged everything. Meaning she was feeling less than secure. They let her run around a little at least, trying to give a little exercise.

Finally she arrived to my house, and dear lord. The cat is fat. She was fifteen pounds. Fifteen pounds! Eesh. After about two months she lost just under half a pound, and I'll consider this a good thing. She has teeny little legs. Think miniature dachshund. Occasionally she'll decide to lay with me for a couple hours, so long as I don't touch her too much. She's real big on hissing and trying to eat me for dinner. But it's okay, we're working on the whole trust thing. You move 3 times in about as many months, see how you reaction.

She came with a cat tree and she lives up on the perch up top. It's probably about 4-4.5 feet or so. She loves mini Pringle sour cream and onion chips. Doesn't get but one crushed. Doesn't care. She knows that I'll show those. She also likes Fruit Loops. Has her own pillow, next to mine, so she can look out the window during the day. Loves to curl around the boob area. It's the best place ever in the morning apparently. She and Noelle are not getting along, but whatever. They'll work it out. It's only been about 3 months. That sort of thing takes some time. I stop all the big fights and I'm trying to stop Noelle from attacking Tey when she's in the litter box.

Now, you've heard about it...so let's see her.


(Click on the pic to see bigger pics. If you look at the sets, she's under Teyla. Obvious, I know.)

Over the rainbow

Wrinkles
(9/16/1995 - 07/27/2008)

We made the decision to put Wrinkles down. She had diabetic ketoacidosis after throwing up for 2 days. She couldn't even take water without vomiting. Her sugar was off-the-charts. The doc thought she might have dementia along with all her other problems (blind, deaf, arthritis, diabetic, inability to stand for more than 5 minutes, had to use the wall as guides to go wherever, and had no sense of direction). At nearly 13, she had outlived most pugs. It was a hard decision and hurt like hell, but it was the right thing to do. I just wish I didn't feel so terrible.

Mom thinks she did a lethal injection, which she really didn't. She stopped a creature from being suffering. It feels so weird to be in the house without hearing her. I was petting her as the pink cocktail took hold. Petting her as she died. I just. Yeah.

And A Cow Says Moo...

I was reading Alyssa Day's blog, who incidentally enough has four pugs, and was struck with the idea of making this post. So, I wanted a happy one. I haven't had one of those for a while, and hey, we all need a little happy in our lives. And lord, that sounds like a soap opera come on, doesn't it? Oops.

Birds of a Feather
First up is a picture of my mom and Wrinkles. I love love this pic because they look so much alike. Which is pretty normal for them, actually. I see this look a good bit when I walk into the living room and they're sitting on the chaise. Like owner, like dog.



Who Lived In A Shoe
I love her little grey mask. It used to be completely black, but around eight it started to grey up. Now it's more grey than black, and it's just so cute on her. For some unknown reason, I love the little shit. She takes her shots without noticing, eats like a pigpug now that she gets chicken mixed in, and as ornery as she is, I wouldn't trade her for the wide world.


I'll put up some of Noelle's Christmas as soon as I finish transferring the last of the pics onto the computer. You should see her little cubes and how much she loves to go through them, confused as hell as to why it's a nifty pass through and lookout point yet has absolutely no height to them. She's not the brightest bulb, but she's my little nimrod.

Don't you dare make this place domestic.

So the vacation post will be coming when the world calms the fuck down for a minute. Until then, I have more Wrinkles news.

You see, because God has such a fabulous sense of humor, He's given Mama and the dog the same ailments. Until now. Oh, yes. There is a bigger joke out there now. You see, the senior pug is now a diabetic. That's right, for all you reading comprehension skilled people: she has the same disease I do. That also means we get to give her shots twice a day. She's on Vetsulin now.

Because, of course, the vacation from hell has outreaching tentacles of WTFery. Fantastic!

It's a snow time...

I have so much bullshit to write about my vacation from Hell, live and in stereo. Kinda, sorta. Okay, maybe not. But the point is that in the next couple days it'll be posted. I'm trying to catch my breath, since we've gone from WTFland to GTFOville back to WTFland so often that I'm seeing internet terms in my sleep.

But! There was one awesomely bright spot. Ninja Kitty loves and adores me right now. Actually, more than that, really. After being gone a week, she's keeping a close eye on me. Making sure I'm not leaving her again. Which, of course, I won't. Not until Spring Break (more will be explained on that in the long post of doom). Speaking of which, Misty Dawn, could you post the cut tags for Blogger? I know Livejournal's (who are now owned by a Russian company...haha! We ran SixApart's dumbasses out), but this isn't the same one. Though, I think Brad works over on this company now.

I missed Noelle so much. And she actually gave kisses. You have to understand that she rarely honors humans with that. Because we clearly have cooties. And I got to snuggle with her. And that's the first time....ever, I think. This is only the third time I've been away from her, and the longest. Most of the time it's Labor Day weekend.

I love my little dork. So very much. It's been two years since I got her. Well, was on Dec. 8th. It doesn't seem that long, but then, I can't remember all the parts of my life before her, either. Sometimes it's just nice to have something that you can love unconditionally, and they return the favor. And that's why I will kill and bury a bitch for hurting an animal. I do mean that too. I have plans, people. Devious really should have been my middle name.

Road Trip To Hell...

A picture of Marineland, Florida taken on 12/15/07.











Okay, so we left for Florida on Wednesday. All happy and ready to enjoy our vacation. We had about six hours sleep each the night before, so after I got us through the Atlanta traffic, I went to sleep in the backseat. I was just that tired. And my mom drove from about Jonesboro to Tifton. And then we had to stop. Why? Because our dog was having a heat stroke. Two hours in. I broke about 8 different traffic laws finding the local vet, on I-75 no less. I was aching for a ticket, but I didn't get one. Thank god.

I found the vet, and a good thing, too. Wrinkles's head was lolling to the side, and her tongue was turning purple. Let's put it this way. It resembled a chow's. The techs, who have never seen us before, rush in to save her. We're scared to death since she's 12, and that's old for a pug. She couldn't hold her stool, or walk. Literally, she could only crawl around. So, we're waiting for the vet to get there (it was lunch break), and in the meantime we're freaking out more. Thinking what kind of crackpot clinic did we land in. Mama's thinking the dog will die, and I'm holding out hope she'll live.

So they have to put her under anesthesia because she can't breathe, even with oxygen. We hope and pray, and leave when they suggest it since the dog had shitted a bit on the seat. And my jeans. Oh, right forgot to mention that. I look down and there's a big spot of shit on my jeans. And I didn't even care. I washed them off a bit, and then worried about the dog. When we had to get gas, I stopped and changed. Tossed the shit on jeans because if we ended up taking the rest of the vacation, who wants to put that in their car for seven days. Good thing they were my Wallyworld ones.

We find the recommended car wash and they wash off the seat and vacuum it for fifteen bucks which was good since the seat couldn't be used until it was cleaned. So we kill time with that (pre tossing of jeans), and then go get the gas, where the jeans came off. And after that, we were like "you hungry?"so I asked the attendant a good place to eat at. See, we hadn't eaten since about 10 and it was close to 4 by then. Yeah, I was brilliant for a diabetic, wasn't I? But we had been dealing with Wrinkles and the ER trip since 1:30. We park into Ruby Tuesday's three exits up and I notice that we missed the phone call from the vet. She's stable for now! And we can come see her if we want. We leave the restaurant (hadn't even made it in), and rush over. Puppy is awake, but groggy. They're in love with her, no surprise, and she's handling it okay. Which is awesome since she's never been in a kennel before. Oh, and they need to take some blood.

They're going to keep her overnight, so we need to find a place to stay. We go back to the restaurant and get some really good food. My dad calls and I'm filling him in on the events leading up to it. After awhile, the manager, who helped with mama's dairy issue choices, recommends the Holiday Inn next door.

Okay, it seems awesome. Except not so much. The curtains are like see through, and there is no heavier fabric to keep it dark. But okay, we can handle it. It wasn't that bad. Not really. Just, weird since we're on the bottom floor and everyone can see in. We had unpacked enough clothes and stuff to last the night and didn't cart everything in. We had said if the pup didn't make it, that we were turning around. No need to go on vacation while in mourning.

The doctor calls around 6. The bloodwork came back fine, very well in fact. They were surprised since the age of the dog. Go team us. And no, the pup doesn't have her vaccinations, because of severe allergic reactions. I mean, she shits and vomits for two weeks afterwards. And at that age, it's just not worth it. We're told to call in the morning and we'll see if she can go.

The next morning we're out the door by 10:30, ready to pick up the dog. There's a Starbucks in the parking lot (like literally it was about 20 feet from the motel), so we go get some pastries and coffee to go. Then we go pick up Wrinkles and while still groggy, she's okay. We're told to not use her harness unless absolutely necessary and to chuck the travel harness out since it was cutting off her air supply. Mama rides in the back with her, like she always does when it's her turn. And the total vet bill for oxygen, fluids, anathesia, eye drops, antibiotics, and general stuff? 236. Yes, that's like a fraction we were expecting. For all that, including Pill Pockets, and those are about 10 bucks. We wanted to take these people home with us.

If you're ever in Tifton and have an emergency, I fully endorse Quailwood Animal Clinic. The people are awesome. They even handfed Wrinkles chicken. We usually just feed her Purina Beneful (something the doc actually endorsed, too), but they spoiled the hell out of her. But Quailwood is like top notch.

We make it to St. Augustine, finally. In about three hours or less. I'm a speed demon and I can change lanes like no one's business. I mean, hey, I learned to drive in Atlanta. I can handle any traffic combat.

I'll continue the motel adventure tomorrow. This is already a book. But the moral of the story is that Wrinkles is fine.

Here lies...

So, last Thursday night, my gerbil CC died. She was spazzatic, and old, but I liked her. She was older, though. Almost two, and for an inbreed gerbil, she lived a long time. I found her Friday morning and felt terrible. But I was expecting it.


Cherry Coke (C.C.)
2005-10/11/07
[No pic.]


However, I wasn't expecting Jack. Jack is - wait, was - my hamster. I'd had him for about 11 months, and the shit kicked ass. He was awesome. But he died. At 11 months. Which is really young, even for a pet store hammie. I have no idea what killed him. I didn't notice until about 11:30 tonight, when he wasn't spinning on his wheel. Going around and around. And we just got the wheel about six weeks ago, maybe two months. It was a Wodent Wheel. You know, one that didn't break in no time flat. I don't know what to do. Cause it's Jack. I got him about a week after my last male gerbil died last year. I just. Man.


Jack
11/18/06 - 10/19/07

[Taken first day I had Jackers.]


It was the terrific end to a sucky day.

Flip That Switch

So, I know I complain a lot on here. And it does bother me somewhat that y'all might think I'm not a sunny side up person. I'm actually pretty upbeat. I just use this blog as a way to let myself be able to feel unhappy and not have to deal with the emotional repercussions my family makes me feel ashamed of. It's a nice release.

I named this blog after Noelle, aka Ninja Kitty, because she is the light of my life. Seriously, when the rest of the world can go suck it, she gives me the chance to enjoy the sunbeams. She curls up with me while I sleep. Takes my pillows before I go to sleep. Generally is never far enough away that she can't tell every step I take. She doesn't like being held, but will tolerate it for about 30 seconds before starting to squall. But it's a nice warm, cozy feeling.

And, here's the thing that really, really gets me: she needs me. I have a maternal streak a couple oceans wide. It's a natural thing, and most of my friends end up at some point saying, "I don't need a second mother." And like a mother, I totally ignore them. Hey, I'm not changing my personality. Take it or leave it. I take care of my own. It's a natural thing that I don't try to force on people, but it's a given with me.

She doesn't care that I can't parse a sentence, that inequality graphs and notations are the bane of my existence, that I have some serious road rage, or that I'm not always the brightest bulb in the lot. She just loves me. That's an amazing feeling, and one I'm not really acquainted with. Usually people only like me for as long as they can use me up. I know, and I still let them. That's all right, though. Not that they do it, but if I'm aware, then it's on me. But having that kind of love at my fingertips has actually kept me from going off on a lot of people.

As for the upbeat thing. Man, sometimes I can make Pollyanna look like a downer. It's that whole "hey, I've lived through hell so the rest of life must be a cakewalk." I never said I was bright, did I? But it makes it easier for me to handle the bad spots. I find the oddest situations funny. Like I can start laughing over something totally stupid and I'll keep laughing until I can't breathe. Like when I tickle my godmom's feet and she wiggles around like a 4-year-old, or I'm on the phone with one of my best friends and we'll start discussing how damn stupid some fans are, like making My Little Pony characters of characters (note: I have, in fact, seen Stargate ones, along with hearing about Dr. Who) and how the sanity train musta never left those stations. Or I'll get tickled over the dumbest knock-knock joke, especially when my baby brother was younger and would tell them.

I'm not totally upbeat, as you've noticed, but I do try and keep some perspective. Hence the fairly twisted attitude. I might wanna choke a bitch, but I'll do it with a small on my face.

Burn, Baby, Burn!

Vick was told he can't go to pre-season training camp. I wish he wouldn't get paid, but I'll take what I can get.

Do you know how much this makes me giddy?

Oh, my god. If I could, I'd invite everyone over and have some serious alcoholic drinks. Cause hot damn, there's a little justice. Especially added with the Commissioner's statements. *boogies*

"Leave Me Alone, Mama!"

So, I'll be posting about White Trash Woman, aka Jennifer, later because apparently my story wasn't done yet. But! First I have to share my cat pic. I took this a couple weeks ago, and well, she's just so cute. Ahem. Oh, come on, we all know I adore my cat. The light of my life. The thing that puts meMama in the poorhouse.


She usually sleeps on my bed, curled up like that. But the flap over her eye is just so cute. Like she's mimicking how I put a pillow over my face when the light is too bright in my room (yes, I sleep with a night light, so sue me). So adorable, the little shit.

Wassit?

This was taken last year, at some point, and it was the first flower bouquet that Ninja Kitty had been around. Being the incredible goof, she ended up hitting all the petals off. But I chose the pic because look at that face. She has the most expressive face ever. She couldn't figure out what the camera flash was and why it was going off all the time. She was about a year here. You can tell cause she's not quite as wide.

I had bought the arrangement for my godmom, just because she was feeling awful and needed something purdy to look at. Too bad they didn't last long. I think she got a kick watching Kitty attack the plants. Speaking of which, we should get some more. If nothing else, the odd looks Noelle shows off and makes us laugh with. Little shit.

Okay, funny post coming up later tonight. I was just looking through the camera pics and had to share this one. And she really doesn't have laser eyes. My camera just likes to make everyone think she does.

Happy Time

Okay, really, I don't have a lot of happy things to mention about my day (mostly because I only left the house for about two hours), but well, the blog was getting rather bitter. I try and dole that out slowly as to not scare the nice people away.

So positive things. Reading Crystal McBoob's blog, I found this place. And truly, if you've ever had a pug, you understand how well they control humans. We are their puppets, and we dance, dance our little hearts out until we give them what they want. Granted, no one reads my blog (darn my promotion skills), but hey, I'll add it out there because what's posted is so true. I mean, honestly. Go read, laugh, and see how those us that are owned by pugs live. *grins*

Noelle is crashed out beside me, loving the floor lamp that keeps her nice and toasty since the cruel humans didn't raise her window today. Maybe we will tomorrow. God knows we're weak-willed when she looks sad. But...kitty. Pretty kitty, even. That's my Thunder Kitty (okay, and Ninja Kitty, as named when she was a kitten and would attack randomly). Thunder Kitty comes from the fact she sounds like it when she runs to follow from the front.

And oh my god. WORST KITTY MOTHER EVER. Today was her birthday. *headdesk* I was thinking it was July, but no, I gave her June 12 so it's three months in front of mine. Damn it. I owe her something. Hmm...wonder if I can get my godmom to buy her a toy or something. Probably. Godmom loves her almost as much as I do. Well, shit. Okay, *ponders* since it's late anyway, I should make it a good present. That means I've had her for about a year and a half. She's the best thing that's happened to me in that time. Why? Because she makes me laugh and giggle, keeps me from sliding into depression, and most of all just loves me. The unconditional love of a pet is the best thing ever. Because when I'm sick, she guards me. When I'm crashing at night and dangerously low, she'll paw at me. When I'm sleeping, usually she can be found curled around my feet snoozing right along with her brain-dead human. Every day I realize how lucky I am to have her. God, and since we don't speak often I'll take this on high authority, blessed me with her. She healed some old wounds helps me remember why I'm on this earth. Because I'm part of a team.


Best. Cat. Ever.

Ninja Kitty: The Guard Dog

Ninja Kitty loves to sleep at my feet. Why, the world may never know, but she usually gets up when my godmom does, since godmom is the window opener, and we know how high up that is on the list compared to a warm bed. However this morning Ninja decided to get close and curl up tight. The same cat that doesn't let me out of her sight, or gives me kisses just for being there. I must walk her legs off when I go from my room to mama's. She might attack me for walking by her funny, but she loves her mama.

Or she could just want treats for existing. Probably that.