Fred's Breed has Been Discovered!

I present to you...the North American Pillow Hound!

No, Fred has not had his coffee yet this morning either and he missed his bath since we were in Miami last week. All will be remedied this afternoon. :-)

In Case of Emergency

Video from an Orlando Emergency Veterinary Clinic.

I realize that we don't like to think about the "bad" things in life, least of all those that haven't happened yet. Nobody wants to write a Will or think about what they would do if their cat or dog were to get sick on a Sunday or at 3am. But the above video underscores why it is important to know what we're going to do if Fluffy or Spot does fall ill at an inconvenient time.

Probably about seven years ago now, Mike's beagle puppy had fallen ill. It was a Friday night when Julia hurled her kibble on the living room floor. Okay, no biggie. She was a curious puppy and probably just ate something she wasn't supposed outside, yacked it up and would then feel better. She are and drank and seemed to be a little better through out Saturday. We walked the yard and didn't find anything suspect, so life moved on. Sunday the heaving didn't stop and she stopped even drinking water. She wanted to do nothing but lay on the cement outside and mope.

We Google'd the closest emergency vet's office, loaded her up with a blanket and off we went. It was the very same office in the video. I remember two things about them: everyone we met there was cold and it was expensive. Julia stayed one night there, being treated for what turned out to be Parvo, and the amount was beyond triple digits. We moved her to our regular vet (at that time) first thing Monday morning and agreed we'd never be going back to that location. The people there just...didn't seem right.

Since then, I've moved and found a wonderful veterinary practice that is available to be paged after hours. I adore them and can't imagine taking our pets anywhere else. They're reasonable with their pricing and don't force extra/unnecessary testing upon you. Seeing this video today reminded me of just how very lucky we are to have them. And Mike and I were right...there was (IS; apparently, that woman has not been fired after her actions, but merely moved their Kirkman Road clinic.) something wrong with those people.

So, if it's 4pm on Sunday and Fluffy has a seizure, if your vet available? If not, where will you take him? Please take a moment to search for local emergency animal hospitals in your area and check their reviews, before you're in a panic and just searching for first available. Add that phone number and address to your emergency contacts list and go on with your day. Hopefully, you'll never have to use it, but if you do, it's there.

Fred's Really a Good Boy...

Guest Post from Roger the Cat

     Yesterday, I sat in the cat room at Seminole County Animal Services. There weren't very many visitors, but one couple wandered in and started peering into the cabinets with wire doors and the cats inside of them.  I heard one of the shelter people tell them that there were a lot of available cats looking for homes and that traffic to the shelter had declined since a big trial was taking place just around the corner; it seems everyone was captivated by the happenings in lives of other people and had forgotten about the potential of adding of lovable feline to their own life. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that they've been too caught up in it all to stop bringing their unwanted cats in though.

     The couple wandered through the cages, pet the kittens and one rather large gray tabby that acted as though she would rip through the bars just for a head scratch. They came into the cat room and started petting any kitty that didn't run. The lady picked up a kissy black cat named Lita. The guy swooned over a calico. I had nothing better to do, so I followed them through the cat room and into the outside part of the cat room. The guy started petting me when I climbed up to a reachable level. "This one looks like someone spray painted him." He remarked of the white hairs randomly growing within a black spot on my back.

     The lady looked to see what he was talking about. "His tail's broken." She observed the sharp bend half way down my short tail. They went on petting everyone, holding some and pointing out the window to cats that were in inaccessible area outside the cat room. The lady sat for a while inside the cat room, with a tiger striped cat curling up on her purse for a while, another cat in her lap and a cat on either side of her. I waited patiently for her to notice me and pet me again. And pet me she did, while telling me what a good, sweet boy I am. Patient and tolerant; I didn't hiss at anyone or shove my way into the gathering crowd. I just sat and waited. She picked me, which made me squirm a little, and set me on her lap to pet me and look me over. 

     Eventually, they went back out to the cabinets full of kittens and started petting and holding them. The guy wanted a kitten to play with the kitten that he already had at home. I'm a 5 year old cat. I want to be pet, fed and given someplace that I can nap. Dang it. I watched for a bit before turning away as they cuddled a little calico kitten and talked about the choice to be made. I was confident that it wasn't going to be me.

     They finally went over to the girls working and told them they'd decided. Sure enough, one of the girls came over got the information off of the calico kitten's collar. Another girl did a little dance as a third flipped through the papers of cats to find the one they had picked. They left the cat area to finalize paper on their new kitten. Nothing new; like the girls had told the couple; I'd been flirting with everyone that came into the cat room over the weekend. I'd been there three long months. Nobody wanted me.
     When one of the girls from the shelter came in to get me a while later, I didn't know what was going on. Wasn't this a no-kill shelter?? Maybe they'd gotten too full and I was too old and had to go to make room for more kittens?? I was stabbed in the back with something, put into a box and taken up to the front office. I sat quietly in the box and realized that my box was at the lady's feet. Someone walked up to her and said, "Did you really get two?!" "Yes. Roger and a kitten." Wait...the kitten and...me?? Someone else came up and said that she had just stopped by to drop off a dressed up photo of me from last weekend, to try to help find me a home, but then she'd been told that I'd already gotten one, so the lady and guy could have the photo of me in a bow tie. (Don't I look handsome? Turns out the lady has an extra soft spot for furry gentlemen in bow ties, too!)

     I went home with them in a rainstorm. Hail pelted the car and roads flooded, but I didn't care. I was on my way home! I was greeted at the front door by Fred (a nosy guy that's a little too pushy with his introductions, but otherwise an okay dog) and Mars (a scrawny black cat that prefers to wait and hope for people food instead of eating the cat food). The lady showed me the food dish and the litter boxes. I discovered the plant ledges, that let me escape for a quiet nap whenever I need one, the scratching stations and the couple's bed on my own. The guy woke up a bit and even pet me for a while last night. I get along with everyone and I think I like it here; no more sharing space with 34 other cats and begging to go home with people. Now I can sit on the couch and eat the lady's calamari left overs with her! Me-ow!

     But today was bitter-sweet. As I sat on the couch this afternoon, cleaning calamari crumbs off my face, the lady watched a video online about an officer shooting a litter of kittens in Ohio, citing the shelters being at capacity as his "reason" for sending those kittens to "kitty heaven." The lady had some very not nice words that for that man, regardless of reason. And I'm very glad that the shelter that I was in has a no-kill policy. I may have had to share a space with a bunch of other cats for three months, but at least I was given that chance and now have a home and people to call my own. I'll take that over being shot in someone's backyard any day! So, thank you, kind people at the Seminole County Animal Shelter, for being a no-kill shelter and letting me wait there until I got my home!

Mews and snuggles,
   Roger

      P.S. The lady says that there are still plenty of great cats there and through the month of June, of of the cats over 6 months old are available to be adopted for free! So if you think you can spare a little space, a bit of extra food and the occasional head scratch or chin rub, you should check them out!

Fred's New Harness

Fred, lounging after a hard day of shopping and barking at other dogs and people at Lake Eola.

     He's rockin' his new harness from Doggone Gourmet Treats. I wanted something that wouldn't pull so much on his neck (like collars do) and that he couldn't slip out of (like he did with his old harness) aaaand we found it! Diane was very helpful in making sure that we got the right size, so there would be no more of Fred slipping free and their doggie treats look better than most human cookies! We'll definitely be visiting them again soon! :-)

Fred vs the Antler of Doom

Fair warning: Fred is LOUD. You want to turn down your speakers before playing. WAY down...

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

     So, yeah...the people at PetSmart and on the DogForum have been suggesting that I get Fred an antler when I mention that he is Captain Destruction. I finally did today...and now I'm questioning whether or not that was a great idea. >.<

Is Your Dog an Artist?

Jenna makes me LOL for days, so definitely check out her other videos. This one was really cute, but I don't think Fred would go for it. I just foresee his paws being stained blue and dirt on the canvas after he would, inevitably, go running around the backyard at warp speed and then trample the canvas with dirty paws. >.<

Do you think your pooch would paint?

Adding to Fred's Shame...

     Tonight our room mate came home from visiting family out of town. He, apparently, brought a whole Boston Cream donut in with him and left it in the bag, in his room. He then left the door open and went outside for a bit. Meanwhile, Sean and I went to the store to buy chicken wire and staples to patch up the old privacy in the backyard; to keep Fred from wandering into the neighbors' backyard and being eaten by their rather large dog. The room mate comes back in and decides that that donut sounds good aaaaand discovers an empty bag. No donut to be found, just a Fred with a sticky face. >.<

Fred's Shame

...or lack there of.

Fred is a Resource Guarder.

     About three weeks ago, I went to the local animal shelter to adopt a dog I had seen on their website. It was advertised as a 6 year old poodle, found roaming the streets. It was obvious from the photo that his coat would need a little TLC, but he met the landlord's requirement for a small dog and my want for a furry one. Most people know that this story took a turn when I arrived at the animal shelter and discovered that poodle was much older than "6" and needed a lot of medical attention that the rescue group, that was offering to take him, could get for him and I could not. I ended up browsing the other dogs, many of which were either too big, were breeds that are adopted out on the spot (yorkies, chihuahuas, etc.), or had very out going personalities that would also be quickly adopted out. The there was Fred. Head and tail slung low, sitting in the corner while one of his "cell mates" barked her head off and the other two prodded him with their noses. He just looked so...sad. I couldn't leave him there. Well, I had to, for almost a week, until the shelter was able to process him out, but he was the little furry boy I adopted that day.
     What we know of his background is this: He's a three year old little boy that was already neutered when he arrived at the shelter. This former owners reported him as a "Jack Russell" mix, though most people see more of a West Highland terrier when they look at him. (I just see Fred.) He was dropped off at the shelter because the kids that he was purchased for didn't take care of him.
     His coat was pretty sad looking, but he's very well house trained. He liked the kids at first. He adores Sean and I. He didn't like the room mate at first, but they've grown on each other. Over the past few weeks, he's gotten a bit more comfortable in our house. However, it's become obvious that he's very insecure. He barks at people and dogs outside. He freaks out when any dog gets too close. He gets along okay at places like the pet store or the lake, for a bit. But he cowers when there are too many people too close or larger dogs around. At home, he's a bouncy, happy little dog, most of the time. Outside these walls, his head and his tail go down and he starts barking and growling. Even at home, he growls if the cats get too close to the bed or us, his people, in general. It took a few weeks to get a clear picture of everything, but, indeed, it seems like Fred is an insecure resource guarder.

     We've gotten tons of help from the Dog Forum and all of their wonderful members. I also picked up a book on my Kindle that the posters there recommended; Mine! And I've begun working with Fred on the "Leave it." command. This is just another leg of our journey. :-) (I realized recently that my content is going to end up all over the place, but...that's life!)
     If you suspect that your dog may be a resource guarder, you may want to start here. If you just want to work on basic training with your four-legged friend, the Dog Forum is still a great place for more info on that or anything related to dogs. We are AprilNFred there and we'd love to have you! :-)

Meet Fred...

     It's come to my attention that I can't begin to call this a proper website without at least an assistant editor. Therefore, meet Fred. Well, Prince Wilfred Heise, to be precise. He officially joined the family on May 7th, 2013 and has quickly become my right-hand man. (Even earning a spot in my bed and I've had a long-standing "No dogs in the bed!" rule. I think my dear mother likely fainted when she heard that one!) But here he is, a 3 year old Jack Russell terrier mix with an affection for bow ties, that has vowed to keep me honest and not let me post anything too bitchy on this new adventure!