Moving on up...

Okay, so this blog is basically defunct, I know. Sorry, sorry. But if you want any information on where to find me now - you know, if anyone checks a year and a half later - let me know by commenting. I have several, but I think I outgrew this one's purpose. I'm not that funny or humorous at the moment. Life's too twisty. Maybe it'll come back eventually.

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.

Asshole, star of the next Batman movie!

Okay, so he's baaack. I haven't given him a bit of attention, been thinking but not acting on him, and what happens? He calls me. I never did answer my phone, or call back. But Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What the hell can I do? So I get curious, because he only wanders over to me when the A and B girls dry up.

Snooping, I go read his journal entry on LJ. What does he talk about? Babies and scary dreams. *sigh* Question answered. Dude, I'm not a human incubator. Go. Away. I haven't blocked the number, really no cause since I don't answer.

But here's what I've done since unceremoniously deleting him. Ready?
+ Deleted him from my private journal entries.
+ Blocked him from actually being able to comment on said journal.
+ Do not answer any communication. (Seriously, hello clue, much?)
+ Don't keep up with him at all.
+ Asked my mom if I can borrow a male relative to go kick his ass.

*sigh* I don't wanna be a Grade A, kick your ass and eat your balls bitch. I'm trying my best. But he's really not making it easy. I'm not a damn rabbit, so stop playing chase.

(Post title because I'm catching up on Gail Simone's awesomeness with Birds of Prey. Yes, yes I am a geek. For an explanation of breaking the fourth wall, I came up with: Ferris Bueller, Saved by the Bell, Deadpool, The Boy from Oz, and Doctor Who all on my own. Oh, yeah. Geek girl.)

I can't wait until my best friend T comes to town for Dragon*Con. God help him if he crosses her. *grins* Girl-o will bust his ass down...then call in the military for a little back up. *draws hearts all over T's internetness*

And the Asshole goes on...

So, yesterday, Asshole called. I was asleep, purposely avoided the phone, and ignored the message until 13 hours later. Now, you have to admit, that's some serious restraint. But mostly 'cause I'm beating my head against the wall over the 11th Doctor choice. Anyway, so I listened.

"Hi this [Asshole] just calling to wish you a Happy New Year."

What the fuck? I blocked him from my other journal entirely. He's not on my list and I banned him. I just want him to go. away.

I'm gonna have to get shitkickery. I don't want to. I really don't. I don't like being the best bitch this side of Sunnydale for no good reason. I might be Queen Jessica, cousin to Queen Cordelia, but damn. Even I need a break.

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.)