Observations on the Ridiculous, Chapter 2

Because of a crazy busy week, I’m re-posting from May 25, 2014. I’m certain you won’t remember it since I barely did myself, but then I’m known for my poor memory. Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

The ridiculous continues. Here are this month’s 7 picks…

My ridiculous dog, Nellie

Nellie

1. My dog Nellie. The last 3 times I’ve walked my Greyhound she’s chosen to stop at the same house to do her business. That wouldn’t be so bad if her business wasn’t comprised of a load of disgustingly runny poop. (Hope you aren’t eating right now.)

poop bags To make matters worse, the homeowners are always out front. What are the odds? I do carry poop bags and always clean up after my dogs but still, this is getting ridiculous. Try as I might to coax her over to the next house (where those homeowners have the good sense not to be home), one simply cannot budge a pooping Greyhound once she becomes so inclined. I believe it’s time to change our walking route. Continue reading →

Welcome Home, OC

I’ve been on a cat kick these days. Not exactly a surprise since they occupy a good part of my day. But each story is unique and in this tale, the life of OC (Orange Cat) is exactly that. I promise next week my post won’t include anything containing fur or with four legs.

Many years ago, OC showed up in a small colony of ferals living behind a movie theater. We trapped him, scanned his microchip, and returned him to his registered guardian who had 20-something ferals. Seems OC isn’t a social butterfly, so he hightailed it back to his preferred stomping grounds.

Over the years, our dedicated group of volunteers fed the cats their daily meal. As time passed and colony cats died, OC was like the Energizer Bunny who just keeps on going. So eventually, he lived out there alone.

Continue reading →

The Doggie Heist

As you may know, I’d do just about anything to help a neglected or abused animal, even if it means getting arrested. In fact, it’s #12 on my bucket list. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s probably inevitable. Fair warning: this post isn’t humorous but it has a happy ending.

Being in feral cat rescue for 20 years, I’ve had my life threatened, been chased, harassed, flipped off, even had our equipment destroyed and stolen. Fun stuff. But I’m not intimidated, nor are my cohorts. We’re fearless (which might not be smart) because when an animal is being abused or neglected, we take action.

In our area, Animal Control can’t remove a pet who has food, shelter, water, and who seems to be in good physical condition. So when they were called to check on this dog (let’s call her Sadie), she appeared to be okay. But when her physical condition deteriorated, our phone rang. The caller was worried Animal Control might have to return the dog. But us? Not a chance. There was only one solution:

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One of These Days

When one has 5 cats, 4 dogs and an array of rotating foster kittens, one can expect constant activity, except maybe in the wee hours of the night. And sometimes not even then when one particular dog snores like an inebriated sailor cursed with sleep apnea.

Skip, my snorer, sleeping with Oliver

Now don’t get me wrong. Skip’s snoring is actually kind of endearing. But how such a small mutt creates so much noise is baffling. Being an insomniac with 2 functioning ears, I can attest he is loud.

That’s when I started thinking of how one of these days it might be nice to sleep 8 hours instead of my usual 5. And I thought, what would life be like without my animals? Well, the dam burst and within mere minutes these 17 thoughts poured out of me.

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That’s Just Jack

Marley and Me

Spoiler Alert

I just watched the movie Marley and Me with my fat cat, Jack. Yes, Jack watches TV; he’s a very observant guy. But if you haven’t seen the movie, I’m about to ruin it for you so you should probably skip the next paragraph.

Marley and Me is a comedy about a dog but also a tearjerker because Marley dies, as dogs will do. I’d already seen the movie but I still cried like a baby. I’m talking crocodile tears that spilled from my eyes, missed my cheeks entirely, then landed on Jack, who lounged on my lap. Pathetic? Yeah, I’d say so.

Now that you virgins of Marley and Me are back with us, let’s continue.

Continue reading →