I have just been informed that Boghan now has a sister, and that Seth will be keeping Ellie. Must run in the family. But really, once a dog chooses you, what are you supposed to do?
Dog Blogging
Say Hello to Ellie
I’m not sure if people are stalking the Cole family and dumping their unwanted animals ahead of us on the road, or if we are some kind of idiot savant dog whisperers, but my brother found this little angel yesterday staggering around in the middle of the road. He stopped to see if she was ok, and just like Rosie did with me, she jumped in his car and refused to get out.
He took her to the vet and had her washed and checked up, and she is healthy, but super skinny. She’s probably the same size as Lily, but only weighed twelve pounds. At any rate, he is looking for a home for her, as he has a puppy and does not need another dog.
He says she is super happy and super sweet, loves sitting on his lap, is potty trained and leash trained, gets along with his other dog and cat, and does what we call the “Lily” dance when he feeds her. I’m just so glad he found her instead of me.
Early Morning Open Thread: Pet Rescues Plus
From commentor Adolphus:
My fiance and I have rescued and adopted a number of animals over the years, she starting long before she met me. The orange dog is Ruby. My fiance adopted her from the local animal rescue years before we met. Sometime in the mid 90’s. I have no cute story about it, she was just lonely and had just lost her previous dog and they just found each other at the local shelter. When we met I was a little leery as I had never been much a dog person, but Ruby really leaped into my heart with all four paws.She was found on the street with some of her puppies over ten years ago and is currently about 15-16 years old. In February of 2008 we were told she only had three months to live due to a series of cancerous growths on various organs. Well, here it is September of 2010 and I would like to say she is still going strong, but she is clearly feeling her age. Her walks are more like slow ambles, she scampers less and less, and she sleeps more and more. While we are afraid she won’t live to see 2011, we are grateful for almost 3 extra years of love.
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The orange cat adopted us. We live in a college town where the students are forever buying or adopting cats, less frequently dogs, and then abandoning them when they graduate or just move on. Because of that there is a real stray cat problem. It is a rare apartment complex that doesn’t have from 3 to 6 to as much as a dozen stray cats lounging around or fighting for food. Even on campus it is not out of place to see strays huddled under buildings or crossing your path on your way to class. Our apartment complex has had between 3 and 6 resident strays since we moved in three years ago. The cat in the photo, we called her Ruby Jr. because of her affection for and resemblance to Ruby, started following us around on our dog walks about 2 years ago. At first she would find us mid-walk and follow us around for awhile but that escalated into meeting us at our door when we came emerged for Ruby’s walks. Then she started sleeping on our car and watching us through our windows. We fed her off and on, the raccoons ate that more often than not. Then a couple of days before Christmas after a chilly walk she zipped in through our front door in front of us. She usually only stayed the evening then wanted let out. A month later she took up permanent residence and was ensconced in time to watch Obama’s inauguration with me on the couch. (I also made a short video for my family and friends back north to introduce them to Ruby Jr.)
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Oh, and the gerbils.
Early Morning Open Thread: Pet Rescues PlusPost + Comments (29)
Well That Was New and Exciting
Went to the vet to have our toenails cut and pick up some Heartguard and Frontline, and the stress of being muzzled and having her toes clipped so agitated Rosie that she jumped down off the table and promptly took a massive runny shit on the waiting room floor, without even breaking stride.
Good times.
Open Thread: It’s the Goat that Ties the Vid Together!
Thanks to commentor J. for this link, because right now we desperately need something that doesn’t suck:
Almost as cool as the performers (including the goat, at 2:51) is the Gizmodo story describing how the video was made. One single take, no cuts, no camera tricks — Take #72 out of 124. Don’t miss the link, because the pics are just AWSUM!
Open Thread: It’s the Goat that Ties the Vid Together!Post + Comments (44)
An Afternoon Moment of Zen
Early Morning Open Thread: Dog Daze
From commentor Jacy:
This is Wilson, sleeping on Nick.
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We just passed our one-year anniversary of adopting Wilson on August 28th. I wasn’t looking for another dog. We already had two who are old and set in their ways, and a cat who does not suffer fools gladly. But my daughter’s friend volunteers at the local shelter and she called to let me know there was a Boston Terrier who had just come in, so I went down to take a look. I felt no connection with the little Boston, and knew she’d be adopted almost immediately anyway. But as I was walking out, I saw a little dog at the back of one of the runs. He couldn’t get to the front, because the three larger dogs in front were all crowding the gate. He looked pathetic, and as I walked past, he just laid down and put his head on his paws.
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He was in terrible shape. He had a punctured cornea, was missing patches of hair from mange, and was about a third underweight. They had found him running on the highway. When I picked him up, he put his head on my shoulder and just sighed. Well, that was that. A year later he is glossy and fat, and his eye (much to the amazement of the vet, who thought it might have to come out) has healed with just a tiny, cloudy scar.
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Wilson is a terrible little dog. He jumps on the counters when you’re not looking and eats anything he can find. He once ate two pounds of beef jerky, followed by an entire box of snack cakes. That was a fun weekend. He must be constantly touching you, which means he must sleep under the covers with you, with his head on your pillow. If he hears something in the middle the night, like, say, the ice maker, he’s up with a fusillade of barks that would wake the dead. We’ve had to install a permanent baby gate to the living room, because we can’t convince him that that room is NOT OUTSIDE, and he insists on peeing on anything in there.
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But, also, Wilson is 17 pounds of sheer joy in living. Every bowl of kibble is a banquet. Every word of praise a sonnet. Every ride in the car a Caribbean cruise. The boys can carry him around like a dolly all day long and he loves it. If you go out to get the mail and don’t take him, the minute you come back it’s all, “OH, BOY, OH BOY, YOU WERE GONE SO LONG AND NOW YOU’RE BACK, IT’S THE BESTEST DAY EVER!” We are much richer for having him our lives.