Category Archives: Family

There’s No Such Thing As A Free Lunch….or a Free Dog

There’s No Such Thing As A Free Lunch….or a Free Dog

*climbs up on my soapbox*

I haven’t been on here for awhile.  A little creaky, but still comfy.

I love animals.  I have spent lots of time, energy,  and money to protect and defend all sorts of creatures.  I work with our local Humane Society, I share my home with rescued pets, and my veterinary expenses easily outpace my clothing budget 2 to 1.  I have a special place in my heart for dogs.  If you’ve shared any part of your life with a dog you’re “connected” to, you know what unconditional love is.  If you haven’t, well, I’m sorry.

I’m a pragmatic idealist.  I think every shelter dog deserves a forever home, and I also think there should be spay and neuter laws to cut down on the obscene numbers of unwanted pets.  It’s a simple concept, really.

Last week, hubby and I went to the local WalMart.  As we pulled in, we see a truck parked at the end of the lot, with a dog crate next to it, and a big handwritten poster board sign that said “English Mastiff Puppies”.  Oh, goodie!  I felt my temples begin to throb.  We decide to take a walk and take a look.

Have you priced English Mastiff puppies lately?  A good breeder will charge you around $1800 for show quality.  A good pet quality dog will run you close to $1000.  What’s the selling price of an English Mastiff in a WalMart parking lot?  A hundred bucks, cash.

Let me tell you about these puppies.  Then my rant shall begin in earnest.

There are 4, 2 males and 2 females.  They are totally lethargic, which is understandable since they’re in the sunlight with no shade and no water bowls.  They are 4 weeks old, which is much too young for a pup to be without its mother, who is nowhere in sight.  There are two extremely friendly women sitting in folding chairs near the crate o’ puppies.  We ask about the parents, and are told their “neighbor owns the mom and dad, and just asked us to sell the pups for him.”  Really?  I have had lots of neighbors in my lifetime, and lots of really close friends, too.  Not once has anyone ever asked me to take their litter of puppies down to the WalMart and sell them!  NOT ONE FRIEND, EVER!  I’m beginning to suspect that these nice ladies are either A) liars or B) thieves.

Totes Adorbs!

Totes Adorbs!

The dogs, at 4 weeks, have been weaned.  Both parents are papered English Mastiffs, we’re told, but there aren’t papers on these puppies.   Of course not.  The owners don’t want to make a lot of money, they just want the puppies to go to good homes.  Of course they do.  What incredibly generous people, wanting to spread Mastiff joy!

My husband is now watching for signs that he might have to drag me away before things get out of hand.

The father is a “Napoleon” Mastiff, and the mother is a fawn.  $100.  They need to sell them today before they go home, because the owners can’t keep them anymore.  Why, pray tell?  Too many loud parties?  They’re moving to E. Namibia and can’t take the dogs?

As we were talking with them, with my husband watching me begin to stew, 3 other cars stopped.  First question:  “How much?”  Kids running over to grab these listless pups.  Serenity Prayer, Serenity Prayer, Serenity Prayer.

Let me line out all the things wrong with this picture.

1.  It would be absolute kismet for someone who has done their doggy research and determined that a Mastiff is the dog for them to find these particular people in this particular parking lot on this particular day.  Therefore, I must assume that there are going to be impulse purchases made.  Oh, goody.

2.  There is no such thing as a “Napoleon” Mastiff.  The word is Neopolitan.  If you’re going to sell a dog, please know what kind of dog you’re selling.

3. Dogs should not be weaned at 4 weeks, sold at 4 weeks, or sold before being vaccinated / examined by a vet.

So, the whole “Purebred English Mastiff” story smells to high heaven.

Typical Backyard Breeding Operation

Typical Backyard Breeding Operation

Even more distressing are the people who I’m sure snagged themselves a big ol’ Mastiff dog that day.

Do you know what happens when someone impulse buys a dog, or gets one “free”?  They haven’t done their homework.  They haven’t selected the correct breed for their lifestyle.  They haven’t budgeted either their money for all the needs a pet has, or their time to provide training and nurturing.  The vet visits get put off….maybe not the first one, but over half will stop going before the dogs are caught up on vaccinations or spayed/neutered.  The “cute” wears off quickly when shoes get chewed up or multiple accidents happen on the carpet.  The dog walking stops when it begins to interfere with social schedules or the weather becomes unpleasant.

The end result:  within a year, more than half of these unplanned additions to the family end up in a shelter, or being given away to someone who will make the same emotional, unprepared choice to get a dog.  They are typically not well socialized, not at all trained, not spayed/neutered, not current on vaccinations, and not in good health.

Not the "Happily Ever After" this pup deserved

Not the “Happily Ever After” this pup deserved

By the way, for those of you who think you’re “saving” that puppy, you’re dead wrong.  You’re delusional.  You’re encouraging irresponsible breeding.  If people would stop buying these pitiful animals, then they’d stop breeding them.  Besides, that’s a lame story.  If someone’s first question when approaching a truck with dogs for sale is “How much?” they’re not out to save the puppies.

Don’t be part of the problem, people.  Spay or neuter, or breed responsibly.  Adopt from a local shelter (who, on average, have about 20% purebreds in their kennels at all times).  Choose carefully, after long consideration and sufficient preparation.  You deserve a forever dog, and those dogs deserve a forever family.

*climbs off of the soapbox*

Thanks for listening.

 

Being a Non-Material Girl

Being a Non-Material Girl

It’s that time again.  “Hon, what would you like for your birthday this year?” asks my husband, trying to make it sound like a lighthearted inquiry.  We both know it’s more like the commencement of a weeks-long cycle of anxiety.

I watch those “say it with diamonds” commercials and shake my head.  My husband probably wishes I would pick out a pair of diamond earrings, or some designer duds, or expensive perfume, or something else out of the “Gift Catalog for Wives”, but I’m just not that woman.  Never have been.  I’ve got nothing against the women who gasp over baubles, or furs, or 18 karat bling; but the particular gene that causes attraction to those things is missing from my DNA.

Not My Jam

Not My Jam

This makes birthdays and Mother’s Day and Christmas and Valentine’s Day and anniversaries a big problem for my husband.

Have you ever been in a group and a woman shows her friends the new jewelry that her husband bought her?  The other women ooooh and aaaaah, and the other husbands/boyfriends look uncomfortable?  My husband wants to be the oooooh and aaaaah generator.  Just once.

If he wants gift ideas, I’m always full of them.  This Christmas I asked for new oven mitts, and I got them. I love them.  I also got a new crock pot, and a soda machine.  Excellent choices!  Almost every year, I ask for the same things:  candles, slippers, kitchen stuff, and I adore what I get; but those aren’t the kinds of things that make women melt and feel cherished and tell everyone how wonderful their husband is.

So, you think I’m just pragmatic and not emotional or romantic?  Not true.  It’s just that what makes me melt isn’t available at the store and won’t need fancy wrapping.  It takes thought and effort and feeling.  I could hand my husband a list, but I won’t…..not because I’m trying to be uncooperative, but because if I have to tell him, it loses most of its appeal.  See, I want him to think, to feel, to know what’s in my heart and find a way to touch it; to remind me that he still knows what’s underneath the Mom, the professional, the volunteer, the friend, the Grandma.

Am I expecting him to be a mind reader?  No, not really.  If there is a particular thing that I am enthused over, he knows about it.  He’s my best friend; he knows everything about me.

I know I’m not alone in this feeling, so for discombobulated boyfriends/husbands everywhere, here are some ideas for women who don’t fit the mold for Cartier and Chanel.

*Write her a letter, and tell her what you admire about her, or what memories of the two of you are most cherished, or just that if you had to do it all over again, you’d still choose her

*Don’t ask her  permission or opinion about a night out for the occasion, just plan it with confidence, tell her how to dress and what time to be ready (or even better, pick out her outfit and leave it with an invitation) and surprise her

Romantic Dinner for Two

Romantic Dinner for Two

*Make her something with your own two hands:  whether it’s a framed photo collage, a new birdhouse, a window box, or a CD of her favorite songs

*Plan a surprise party.  I know that you don’t know how, but that’s what her girlfriends and family are for, to help you (and completely ignore her when she says she doesn’t like surprise parties.  That’s just something women say so they aren’t disappointed when they don’t get one)

Birthday Surprise

Birthday Surprise

*Sign up for a couples thing that you don’t want to do, but she does:  dancing lessons, cooking classes, massage school, etc. and then go happily, even if it really isn’t your cup of tea

*Get cheesy:  have flowers delivered, or take a horse drawn carriage ride, rent a billboard

*Renew your vows (which is one of the few times that a little bling should also be involved)

*Set up a session with a photographer for “couple photos”

Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect

*Take a walk down memory lane and return to your first restaurant or rent the first movie you saw together

There, you’ve just gotten the “inside scoop”.  You’re welcome.  My husband is probably still wishing he could get away with something in a velvet lined box, but whoever said “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend” didn’t know this girl.

Echo’s New Chapter

Echo’s New Chapter

I don’t know the family that surrendered their Great Dane nearly two and a half years ago.  I know they had fallen on challenging times. A change in their financial situation required a move to a trailer home, and the landlord wouldn’t allow an inside dog. I know they tried to keep her outside, chained up near the trailer, because there was a 10 year old boy in that family who loved this dog. Loved her a lot.

Eventually, they realized that this sweet animal couldn’t live like that anymore, and surrendered her to the Humane Society.

I know that must have been a sad day for all of them, humans and canine alike.

A couple of days after Echo was surrendered, I got a call to ask if I’d be willing to foster her.  I was told she was a big sweetie, a little under weight, and a lot scared.  Steve and I loaded up our other dog, Moose, to go meet Echo and see if we could let her crash with us until she found a new home.

We weren’t looking for another dog permanently.  On the contrary, we’d decided that being a one dog family was best for us.  No one told Echo that, though.

We arrived at the meeting place and let Moose outside to sniff around, hoping that if they met in a neutral outdoor spot they’d be less intimidated by each other.  Echo’s caretaker waited until we were all out in the open before leading Echo out on a leash to make introductions.

She pulled so hard that the caretaker dropped the leash.  Echo started towards me at a dead run.  I didn’t have time to react at all, let alone get out of the way.  In mere seconds, she was up against me, nuzzling her head against my rib cage, then nudging her nose against my hand.  She was forcing me to pet her head.

Amazingly, she and Moose had zero reaction to each other.  My faithful Moo-Pie, who I have always known would protect any of his humans to the death, had not paid one iota of attention when some strange dog had made a bee-line for me.

My husband, the caretaker, and I all looked back and forth at each other.  The caretaker said, “If I didn’t know better, I would swear this was your dog.”

Finally, we forced Echo and Moose to say hello. It happened again.  Both dogs acted like they’d known each other since they were pups.  It was amazing.  We came prepared to spend a couple of hours getting everyone acclimated, and 10 minutes after our arrival, it was like we’d been a unit forever.

The question was in the air, and both the caretaker and my husband were waiting for me to address it.   Was this really going to be a foster situation?  If ever a human had been adopted by a dog, I had just been.

Finally, the caretaker said that if I was amenable, the Humane Society would like to give Echo some time to relax and maybe put on a pound or two before trying to place her permanently.  I nodded.  We all knew I’d be writing a check for the adoption fee, but at least I could wait a few days before admitting that Echo had already chosen her new home.

That was the beginning.  For several days, she wouldn’t let me leave her sight.  I took her to work with me.  She laid on the floor next to my bed when I went to sleep at night, and I woke every morning with all six feet of her stretched out on the bed.  She put on those couple of pounds…..plus about 20 more.  She ate all the cupcakes for my daughter’s baby shower while we were in the other room opening gifts.  She has intestinal challenges (due to situations like the cupcake incident) that require carpet cleaning on a regular basis.  There was no “establishing Alpha Dog” in the house, she just automatically knew that Moose was in charge; there’s never been the slightest scuffle.  She chases deer and squirrels out of her yard.  When there are children here, she must remember that boy who loved her so much, because she is simply joyful.

I will be forever grateful to that family for doing the right thing by Echo.    My entire family is grateful, too, because she’s brought so much to our lives.     They surrendered her on faith that the Humane Society would find a good home for her, and I think they’d approve  of the life she has now.

I’m sorry that they don’t know the rest of the story, but maybe, somehow, they’ll see this.  I hope so.

Echo The Great Dane

Are you talking about me?