Boxers and bullies

Here's a batch of play pics taken over the past several days.  Lana is not feeling well today after the surgery yesterday.  She is laying low, hunkered down in the office with me and Molly.  Dixie is feeling much better but we are making her take it easy too.  Women's health matters, even if limp dicked republican men want to pretend that it doesn't.  These dogs were not spayed so they can have sex without consequences.  They had a necessary medical procedure because it was the responsible thing to do.  What kind of sick, twisted mind equates birth control with pornography?  The drug addicted Rush Limbaugh, that's who, the heart and soul (if they had one) of the republican party.  Will they never tire of being on the wrong side of history on every single social issue in this country since slavery?  Probably not.  The GOPigs make me sick, Governor Vaginal Probe and all the rest.  Have a nice day.

(The dog with the brown cow spots is Radley, the brindle dog is Lana, and the fawn colored boxer is Augie.  The sheperd in the final picture is Trooper, of course.)

Spay day and another birthday

Today was spay day for Dixie and Lana.   I took them in this morning.  Several people remarked on how pretty Dixie is. 

When I picked them up at the end of the day, several people remarked on how sweet Lana is. 

Both girls were good and came through it without problems.  Lana was still quite groggy, Dixie was content to crash in the crate but her ears were up and she was ready to go.  If she metabolizes drugs the way she does food they may have been to give her more half way through the surgery. 

Both girls are in my office tonight and will be for a few days.  They will get pain meds starting tomorrow and I think I'll worm them too because they couldn't get a stool sample from Lana when we were at the vet yesterday.  I'm talking to someone about Dixie and hope to meet them this weekend.  She's a nice girl and they have a boy shepherd for her to boss around.

I don't always see messages left for me on Facebook other than postings on my wall.  I have started to make a point of checking them more often and had one today from the adopter of my former foster, Harlan.  The pic on the left is Harlan when I had him, which apparently has been six(!) years ago now.

My apologies to those readers who have adopted shepherds from me, but Harlan is, in my opinion, the best looking German Shepherd Dog I have ever seen.  Not just "ever had as a foster," I mean the best looking shepherd I have ever seen.  The AKC would probably disagree, but I don't have any use for that group of breeders anyway.   Harlan (now Barth) is everything I like in a shepherd.  He's got a big head, long and broad nose, and that gorgeous red and black coat.  He's got a great home and I'm not sorry that I didn't keep him, but I sure do like to see him from time to time. 

He's also a sweet boy, loves his toys, and when he's not curled up he still likes to stretch out on his back and sleep with all four legs in the air. 

He's nine years old now and six years in his new home.  He looks good with just a touch of gray.  The dog I thought was coming today has been pushed off to next week, which is fine.  With two post-surgery here in the office, I have enough to keep me busy right now.   

Pre-op

On Thursday morning I'll be taking Dixie and Lana to the CASPCA to be spayed.  Today was pre-op day.  For Lana that meant a trip to my vet at Old Dominion Animal Hospital for vaccines and heartworm test. 

All that could have been done with the spay on Thursday, but I had another reason for wanting her seen before I took her to CASPCA.

Lana is a sweet girl, probably half boxer and half pitbull, and it's the pittie half that I was concerned about.  That's a fear born of prejudice born of ignorance and inexperience on my part, I'll admit that right now.  Rotties and shepherds don't often worry me, but that's due in large to the fact that I know them pretty well.  I am not familiar with pitbulls and I'm a bit cautious, even though I know that they are among the most wonderful and loving dogs there are. 

Lana has never been anything but sweet and loving around here to us, but her initial greeting behavior with new dogs is very domineering.  She has worked it out fine with everyone she has met around here, but with the wrong dog (i.e., another alpha female) I think there is the potential for some unpleasantness.  I don't think she will ever be a dog park kind of dog.   

Anyway, I wanted to use the good folks at Old Dominion as guinea pigs to make sure Lana would be vet friendly before I took her in to be spayed.  I told them up front that she was nice but I didn't know how she would react to vetting.  They are cautious and experienced, and she was wonderful, no problems whatsoever.



Dixie had been to the vet for vaccines a couple weeks ago when I first got her.  What she needed before her surgery was a bath.  The recent rains and snow have created a lot of mud and Dixie isn't a dainty dog who avoids getting her feet wet.

Her legs and belly, where the surgery will occur, were caked in dried mud splattered up there as she ran through mud and puddles.  I couldn't take her in there like that.  When I finished work this evening, she came in for a bath.  The water ran like mud for a while and she's probably not spotless yet, but it's much better. 

Dixie is spending the night in a crate in my office so she can dry in a warm environment and stay clean.  After their surgery, both she and Lana will be in my office, and Augie is still up here too, so we'll have a full house.  And I'm bringing home a new foster tomorrow who will be up here, but hopefully will be moving on to another foster home in the next day or two.  Hmmm, I may have to do a little juggling. 

Snow days, snow dogs



This is Tessa, a former foster,
posing with a snow dog made by her mom.

Monday, 9:00 a.m.:  We've had only our second snowfall of the winter.  I should say "we are having" because as I'm writing this it is still falling.  This one was a bit of a surprise because although the possibility of snow had been mentioned, they didn't hype it as a "snow storm" as they would have if actual accumulation had been anticipated.  We've got about 3" so far and it's supposed to end soon so there won't be too much more.  It should all be gone tomorrow, but it is another pretty snow and I'm stocked up on straw, dog food, and really everything we need to survive 4 hours indoors followed by another muddy afternoon.

Zachary and Cabell

I brought Augi inside after breakfast because he was limping when he came out of the shed this morning, telling me there must have been an altercation after I put him to bed last night.  No wounds, no broken skin, but he looks sore and sad so he's inside. 

Spartan discovered a way out of our big kennel yesterday, twice, so he spent the night indoors, but is back out there today after I have secured and re-secured the gate against his egress.  He's a bit of a wanderer.  He doesn't run off and he comes right to me when I call, but he clearly prefers being free.  He'd make a good farm dog.  He was inside long enough for me to conclude that the smelly skin condition still isn't entirely cleared up, however.  Today I added an antihistamine to his food and pills.  I don't think the special diet has had any effect.

Trooper, Zachary, and Cabell
Ready to come in, they were
joined by Bremo moments later

Our guys did a quick romp in the snow but they are mostly older and aren't as excited by snow as they once were.  Neither am I.

2:00 p.m.:  The snow stopped, but not before piling up about 5" of very wet snow.  The sun comes out and melting happens so fast it sounds like rain falling on the metal roof of our front porch.  I put on a crockpot full of venison chili, but need onions and peppers so I run to Thomas', the very local grocery store.  On the way back crossing the bridge, I notice how high the water is in the Rivanna and get an idea.

4:00 p.m.:  The internet has slowed to a crawl so I give up on work, put the canoe on the car and get Clay to drive me to Rt. 600 bridge where I put in.  There is no wind, thankfully, so it's not cold, but it is still and silent on the river.  The only wildlife I encounter are ducks and geese.  What I see that I've never seen before are a number of houses along the river, much closer than I would have guessed and visible now only because the trees are bare.  No one else is on the river, no surprise, I have it to myself.  The water is flowing pretty well and is high enough that the usual obstacles, rocks and logs, are submerged, although they create varying degrees of turbulence on the water's surface.  I would have made pretty good time just floating, but I paddle for the exercise, for the warmth, and because I want to get to the bridge in Palmyra before dark.  I made it but not with too much daylight to spare. 

Sprung on a spring day

This is Augi leaving the shelter on Saturday.   He was ready to go.  He came in as a stray, with a leash and collar, already neutered, but no tags and no one came to look for him.  Is that crazy or what?  He's a nice dog but the outcome wouldn't have been so nice in many shelters because he proved to be food aggressive on the behavioral evaluation.  That is the least problem a dog can have in my book so I didn't hesitate to say I would take him even before I met him.

With just getting Lana on Monday I wanted a few days to get everyone settled in a new routine around here before adding another dog, but I had planned to get his guy before Friday.  Well, Friday came and went, along with more rain and thunder, and I hadn't been to town all week.  Saturday morning I realized that we didn't have enough of Cabell's K/D food to make it through the weekend.  I needed to get to the vet's office to get the food before they closed a noon and I made it, but not by much.  Then I picked up four more bales of straw at Southern States to help with the mud around here, and then went to pick up Augi.  They also gave me all the dog food I had room for, thank you very much, and I was needing it as my storage box is pretty bare right now and the barrell is getting low. 







Augi is everything I've liked about every boxer we've had.  He's sweet, friendly, outgoing, and gives a nice hug.  I walked him into the dog yard with Trooper and Radley with nary an introductory sniff and he was fine.  I introduced him to Lana as well, as I am planning on them sharing a kennel.


Everyone got along fine.  Lana has a very dominant greeting style, which makes me think that she would not do well in a dog park, but she is fine with others once she mounts and humps them.  Maybe after some time here and experience with a few more dogs she will mellow out a bit.  For now, however, I'm only putting her together with pretty easy going males.  Augi and she were fine, and both were fine with Trooper and Radley as well. 


I also got appointments for both Dixie and Lana to be spayed next Wednesday, which means I need to get them both to my vet for vaccines on either Monday or Tuesday next week.  Dixie should be good to go by next weekend. 

The passage of time

I have never had very good time memory.  I know the year of my birth, and the dates that I graduated from high school, college, and law school (actually I only know the first of these but I can add 5 and then 4 to get the latter two).  Unless I can relate an event to one of these things, I really can't tell you when it happened.  (Fortunately, Clay is very much the opposite in this regard.  He can even put dates to events in my life that occurred before we met.)  I am always surprised then to get an email from a former adopter telling me that it has been x number of years since I introduced them to the love of their life. 

Those are the best emails to get, of course, but I'm always amazed when they tell me how long it's been.

This pretty girl is Abby.  She's a beautiful ruby red golden retriever. She is really, really red, like Irish Setter red, the first of her breed I had seen in that color.  I received a email a couple weeks ago saying that it was the fifth anniversary of her second adoption.  I don't remember where she originally came from, but I adopted her out to a couple who lived up around Culpeper as I recall.  She was wonderful, but she was returned when the husband slipped and fell on ice and died of a brain injury.  A horrible tragedy and a reminder to us all to be extremely careful.  The wife didn't think she could handle both the dogs, so Abby came back to me.  I know she wasn't back with me long when I received an application, email, self-supplied references, and photographs from a woman in Delaware.  My Scooby sense told me this was a good adopter and they drove down from Delaware to meet me and Abby in Gainesville one day.  Abby went on to a new life and a new career as a therapy dog.  The picture on the right is a 5' tall poster displayed in the lobby of a hospital cancer center.  Abby is a remarkable dog in an excellent home. 

Stonewall (a/k/a Stoney) is a rottie I took in from a young woman who was divorced, worked long hours, and no longer had time or room in her life for a dog.  Rotties are both laid back and demanding.  To have one is to serve one. They are a big presence in one's life.  They have needs.  They aren't high strung and demanding in the way of a shepherd.  It's almost more of a guilt trip, you just feel terrible if you disappoint them.  The rottie folks will understand. 

Anyway, Stoney's adoption happened almost eight years ago and he is now a 13 year old dog.  That's quite old for a pure bred rottie and although Stoney has been well cared for his entire life, he's having some old dog issues now.  I can't believe it's been that long.  His adopter has become a good friend and she and another friend raised the money for all of Rocky's very extensive and expensive surgeries and medical treatment. 

Stoney was also a certified therapy dog, which is a job rotties are well suited for because they love nothing more than to sit and lean against someone for contact, touch, petting, and attention.  I know he's still done some nursing home visits, but most of his therapy work has been done at home for the past eight years, being a companion second to none.  He has also spread the gospel to many people he has met and encountered over the years-- the good news that rottweilers are good dogs. 

The odd couple

I'm not a big fan of adopting large dogs into small dog homes.  People who have small dogs generally have a reason for it and those reasons generally mean that a large dog isn't going to work out there.   I don't feel obliged to try to find a dog that will work for a small dog home.  I just saw an email saying that someone with a pomeranian had just been approved to adopt a shepherd.  Good luck.  It won't be one of mine.   I think that certain choices one makes in life foreclose other choices, that's just the way it is.  You can't have it all. 

But I've also learned that you never say never.  And so it was that today I sent Max, one of the larger shepherds I've had, to a home with a miniature daschund. 

Max has been fine with every dog around here and he didn't mind the little one at all.  The little guy had met Dixie prior to Max and probably felt a great relief because Max didn't bark at him or try to herd him the way Dixie did. 

I see this pretty much like adopting a dog into a cat home.  Some people can make it work if they want to make it work.  The adopter seemed to be well motivated and I don't think Max will give them any trouble really. 

They will have tons of cute pictures if the dogs become friends and hang out together.  Max is very people-oriented, so I don't think he will be bothered by the small dog.  The first email since they arrived home sounded like things were going very well so far.  Max needed to be in a home again, so I'm glad he is and I sure hope it all works out.