My Groovy Guy, Dash

Last week you met Dash, the feral-turned-domestic-cat I adopted when his allergic guardians had to give him up because he wanted to come inside. Dash

But it wasn’t an easy decision for me. Yes, he’s very sweet and about as laid back as a 1970’s hippy, just high on life — a groovy guy filled with peace and love. So no, it wasn’t Dash that made my decision difficult. It was Taffy.

Taffy with paws to mouth

Really? It was me?

As you know, Taffy is my 10 pound Papillon mix. She’s the tiniest of my pets, yet I believe the one most feared — including and especially by Dash. Turns out he’s a big wuss. The first 2 weeks after I brought him home, I told him often: I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep you if you keep letting Taffy scare the bejeebers out of you. But I don’t think he believed me. Continue reading

Don’t Let Cute Fool You

So it’s been nearly 4 months since I adopted Taffy, a 2 1/2 year old female Chihuahua mix. If you remember, I’ve already blogged about her twice. And although she simply can’t be much cuter, she’s not exactly what I expected from our initial meeting. In other words, don’t let cute fool you.Taffy cute 2

Now don’t get me wrong. I adore that little pain in the ass who’s only slightly bigger than a gnat. But when all is said and done, Taffy misrepresented herself when we first met. Yes, she’s a sly one, that gal. She caught my eye with her adorableness, but I wasn’t alone. On walks at the shelter, nobody passed by who didn’t comment on that sweet face. Her cuteness is like a magnet pulling you in. And trust me, she uses it to full advantage.who me

While I fostered Taffy after she had puppies, she was on her best behavior. I mean, she’s no dummy. She saw a sucker coming and thought, here’s my chance to escape the shelter and go home with this lady who I bet has a bunch of animals I can play with. And she was right.

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Holy Crap: The Final Chapter

As promised, this is the last Holy Crap posting. Here’s how it ended:

Gracie proved to be nearly impossible to trap. Worried she’d inevitably be hit by a car (like Brownie), we brainstormed for a solution when I remembered seeing a discarded portable basketball system on the side of a secluded dirt road. view of basketball hoop 2

We rolled it down to where Gracie eats, cut up licorice plants, then placed a 4’ round net under the hoop. After tying ropes to the edges of the net and connecting them with a carabiner, we looped another cord through that and over the hoop. We covered the net in plantings, then practiced “trapping” a large rock. It worked beautifully, so we put food in the middle.basketball set up Continue reading

Holy Crap, Part 4

When I left you last, we’d finally caught Brownie. But little Gracie is another story. That gal’s quite the survivor — smart and stubborn, refusing to enter any type of trap.

I disguised our remote control drop trap with clippings from my garden…no luck.drop trap with leaves

I made a taller prop to hold up another drop trap for her easy access…no go.

We tried using nets, walk-in traps and fat-cat traps. We followed on foot and by car hoping she’d tire so we could net her…still nothing.me with net2

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Holy Crap, Part 3

If you haven’t read Holy Crap and Holy Crap, Part 2, you’ll want to do that now. (Holy Crap) (Holy Crap, Part 2)

As you know, an Animal Control Officer informed me he’d received word that 2 small dogs had been run over and killed on Mare Island the night before. Refusing to believe it, yet feeling sick to my stomach, I walked every foot of the reported area, thankfully encountering no dead dogs.Mare Island foxtails

Then, while heading back to my car, I spotted the little gray dog, aka Gracie. What a relief! I immediately texted Loretta and Toni, alerting them she was heading their way, toward a palm tree where she and her buddy, aka Brownie, nap. Mare Island palm tree

By now unsuccessful with traps, we resorted to nets.

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