Recently in Pets Category

I absolutely love the caption for this LOLCat picture!  I totally agree with it, too.

It reminds me of my days of volunteering at Lollypop Farm.  I and another volunteer would often go around the room together reading the paperwork for each cat and comment together on the reasons the cat was surrendered for the shelter.  I remember the one time we found a paper with the reason, "New boyfriend is allergic to cats."  The other volunteer and I looked at each other and said almost in unison, "So get rid of the new boyfriend!"

That's still my attitude.  While I'm sympathetic to people with allergies, I'm also sympathetic to cats and animals in general.  I've had cats all my life and I can't imagine ever not having a cat in my life.  And I'd have a hard time making things work -- or even wanting to make them work -- with a guy who had a problem with cats -- even a medical problem like being allergic.  My honest answer would be, "Look, the cats were here first.  And quite frankly, I know for a fact they'll stick around.  I doubt I can be quite as sure about you.  So guess where my loyalties are going to stay?"

If that means I end up being a crazy cat lady, I think I can live with that.  It's more appealing than the alternative at this point.

This week, my sister and her family had a bit of a scare.  They're fifteen year old beagle mix, Tasslehoff Burrfoot (Tas for short), had a bit of a medical scare.  They took her to the vet, expecting the worst.  Fortunately, the vet gave Tas a happy diagnosis and a promising prognosis.  So everyone's relieved to know that we have at least a little longer to enjoy her company, at least when she's not too busy sleeping.

When Stephanie first gave everyone the initial news, I began to think about what I wanted to say about Tas.  I wanted to give her something of a tribute like I did with Saddle when I heard he had passed.  So having thought about it, I've decided that even though it looks like Tas is going to be with us for a while longer, I figured I'd go ahead and offer my tribute anyway.  After all, why wait until a loved one is gone before expressing how much we love and value them?

For those who may be wondering, Tas's comes from a character in the Dragonlance Chronicals by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman.  My brother-in-law, Bill, was a huge fan of the whole Dragonlance series at the time he and Stephanie took Tas into their homes as a little puppy.  Bill decided the name fit Tas as she was always friendly and high-spirited.  And of course, the day that Tas was sleeping on Bill's lap and he suddenly realized she had somehow managed to snake her front paw into the pocket of his jeans just cinched the whole deal.

When I thik of Tas, I most often think of her younger years, before she started facing the health issues of getting older.  I remember the highly energetic pup who loved to be chased through Bill and Stephanie's apartment in Rome, NY.  I still laugh when I think of how she would run up the couch at an angle, shift her body just enough to push off the wall behind the couch with her legs -- I always joked that her legs were longer than the average beagle's legs so they could fit the springs inside them -- and run back down the couch on a new trajectory.  I also remember the day that I had to stop in total amazement as I watched her leap from a total stopped position over the back of the couch (it had been moved so it was in the middle of the room rather than against a wall) and landed on the seat cushion.  I never understood how such a small dog could clear that height from a velocity of zero.

The other great thing about Tas was that as Bill and Stephanie began to have kids, she proved to be one of the best family dogs I've ever seen.  She was quite protective and nurturing of each as the kids when they were born, often expressing distress if the adults around allowed one of them to cry or fuss for to long.  (To Tas, thirty seconds often seemed to qualify as too long.)  And then there was the day my sister and I watched as Tas managed to retrieve her paw from my then-infant nephew's death-grip simply by licking his hand until he let go.

The years have worn on Tas.  She's not quite as energetic as she used to be, though the last time I saw her I still saw the occasional glimmer of that old fire in her eyes.  She's taken more to sleeping and her days of flying around the house or chasing rabbits in the yard are mostly to a close.  But she's still a sweet old girl and everyone who has known her can attest that she's probably one of the best furry family members anyone could ever ask for.  And I'm thankful we all have a little more time to spend with her.

Long-time blog friend Tracie made the hard decision to put down her beloved Bean (pictured to the left). This gorgeous furbaby had been struggling with advanced cancer for a while, and the time had come to grant her peace from her suffering. At this time, I'd like to offer Tracie my deepest condolences along with a few words.

I'm going to try my best (though I'm not sure how good my best will ultimately be) to avoid platitudes, such as how Bean is in a better place (which I definitely believe) or how even death is the part of a master plan we don't understand (which I might believe up to a point). Instead, I want to say something else to you, Tracie.

It sucks. I know you're hurting and missing your darling little Bean. If I was in your position, I'd feel the same way. I'd probably bawl my eyes out more than once today and over the next several days. So girl, you go right ahead and do that. You both need and deserve to do it. And the gods know, Bean deserves that kind of love.

And ultimately, that's what we're talking about. The reason this sucks so bad is that you loved her and she loved you. You shared a bond and countless precious moments. She was a precious part of your life that you cherished for many years and you will continue to cherish. The loss of that bond -- the loss of the chance to experience new precious moments with your darling Bean -- is worthy of much sorrow. Such love must be mourned. So give yourself the freedom to do so. It's just another way of cherishing the love the two of you shared.

I hope that you find a way to express your sorrow, cherish your memories, and find the sweetness in it all.

My thoughts are with you, my friend.

The picture in this post is a poorly scanned image of one of the professional photographs I gave my mother for Christmas yesterday. (I'm hoping the bad scan-job will save me from a copyright infringement suit if the photographer ever visits my blog. I know, bad me.) In fact, this is the shot of which I ordered an 8x10 print and took it to Jo Ann's to have it custom framed. I wanted to take a picture of the framed picture as well, but (1) I forgot my camera and (2) Mom didn't get it hung on the wall before I left yesterday afternoon. I hope to get a shot of it sometime in the next few months, however.

Needless to say, Mom was exceedingly pleased with her Christmas present this year. Similarly, Dad was happy with the electric air compressor I bought him, as well. (Of course, he should be happy with it, considering he helped me pick it out Christmas Eve.) He says he'll thank me every time he has to pump up a tire on the Jeep, the tractor, or the lawn mower. I didn't realize he was having so many problems with tires going flat.

Christmas was a pleasant time for me this year. I spent the night before Christmas at my parents' home. I had a full night's sleep which was uninterrupted by the sound of hoofbeats on the roof, despite the fact that my room is on the second floor. When I awoke, I found Mom already in the kitchen. Dad woke up shortly thereafter, and we enjoyed a pleasant breakfast together before heading to the family room to open gifts.

I received a new polo shirt and a couple pair of sleep shorts, along with some much needed items to help organize my home and keep it that way. My mother received some framed pictures from my father, including a collage of photographs which he spent more than three hours working on putting together the day before. Mom in turn gave dad a new snow gauge and some clothing necessities.

Shortly after we finished our gift exchanged, my sister called from Mississippi to wish us all a Merry Christmas and give a report of their morning. Apparently, the children were all quite excited about their gifts. (In fact, they were too busy playing with them to hop on the phone long enough to speak with my parents or myself.)

After a tasty ham dinner and an hour or so of after-dinner conversation, I decided it was time for me to scoop up Precious and head back to Rochester. The trip home was uneventful, though I could've used a nap before making it, now that I think about it. Once I got home, I spent time with Precious as she got re-accustomed to our home. (She spent the time since Thanksgiving living with her grandparents.) I then found a light, quick meal and watched a bit of television before deciding to call it a night.

I hope all my readers had an equally restful and blessed Christmas.

The picture above is of Grey, Kisa, and Paw, two of the barn cats and my parents' indoor cat. The small group decided to curl up on the love seat together tonight, and Dad shot this perfect picture of them. I think it perfectly describes the quiet, intimate evening we've all had here in the Harris household this Christmas evening. Well, everyone except for Precious, who is stressed over the number of kittens currently occupying the house.

The Yule ritual went well Saturday night. A small group of us gathered at around eight, had a light meal, and then retired to the living room for a time of honoring the gods and working magic. Everyone seemed rather satisfied with the ritual I planned. (Though a certain goddess might take some small issue with my claim to have planned it.) After all was said and done, I think the party broke up around evelen that night.

I spent the night with friends, then headed on down to Mom and Dad's Sunday. This morning, Dad and I ran out to finish our Christmas shopping together, then came home to relax. Tomorrow, we'll open gifts together and have lunch before I head back home in time to get a good night's sleep before work on Wednesday.

Overall, it's been a good holiday season. I hope my readers have also found equal times of peace and the company of loved ones at this time of year.

The picture in my post is of my parents' kitten, Kisa, and one of the "outdoor cats" that often come indoors to visit her, Gray. I figured I'd spice up this entry with a picture that my father took of them playing together last week. After all, it's catblogging day, right?

As I write this, I'm sitting at my parents' home, relaxing. I drove down here yesterday morning after getting up, finishing packing, showering, and dressing. We had the traditional turkey dinner with all the extras at three in the afternoon. Then Mom took a nap, as she had to work third shift last night. When she got back up, we all sat down and watched Sky High. My parents had never seen it before and loved it.

Today, I got up, showered, and ran to town so that I could pick up a copy of Divine Nobodies. (Special thanks to Erin for recommending it.) I decided to start it this afternoon rather than waiting until the car trip tomorrow. So far, I've enjoyed it overall and hope to write about it after I've finished it and processed through all my thoughts.

Speaking of tomorrow's trip, I was pleased to discover that only my aunt and uncle, Janet and Tom, will be riding down with Dad and I. Of all my relatives, they're some of my favorites. It also means that conversations during the trip should remain relatively casual and "safe." So that's quite a relief. My cousin, Melissa, will also be coming from Philadelphia, which means I'll get to see her a second time in the same three month period. Considering we went two years without seeing each other prior to her wedding, this is pretty significant.

I have to admit that I do miss some of my friends right now. I love my family, and I'm constantly feeling more comfortable around them (I even managed to mention a couple of gay friends in the context of relationship while talking with my mother yesterday). But at the same time, I miss spending time with those I've built mutually beneficial relationships with over the past couple years. In fact, I think I'll call Michele here in a bit.

I'm going to skip the common practice of listing the things I'm thankful for. Instead, I'm merely going to say that I'm thankful for my life in general and the countless blessings -- both large and small -- that have come to fill it.

The second picture is one I just took of Precious curled up on her grandpa's lap.

While going through my computer, I found a file in which I wrote about my old dog, Trixie. According to the comptuer, I originally created the file back on 27 December 2005. I don't remember why I wrote it, but I decided I liked it well enough to publish it here.

I can't remember exactly how old I was when my sister and I used to play with Trixie at my grandparents' trailer. All I know for sure is that it was back when my paternal grandmother was alive, back when Trixie was still her dog rather than ours. I had to be either in preschool or the first couple years of elementary school. My family would go to visit her and my grandfather every week. Each visit would require that one of the adults take my sister and me down to the pen where they kept Trixie.

She was an adorably plain dog. To this day, I don't think I could even begin to guess at the breeds that made up her muttly heritage. She was about the size of a Pomeranian, with brown and white fur and a curly tail. Her lower jaw stuck out just enough so that her four front-most lower teeth were visible when she closed her mouth. Under other circumstances, this would have made her look constantly ferocious. But to me, it just made her all that more adorable.

Being small children, we loved to play with Trixie. Often, we would pester my grandfather (often, with the help of our grandmother, who loved nothing more than to see her grandchildren having fun) to let us let the dog loose. Then she would run around with us and we'd have a great time.

On some occasions, we'd even convince the adults (again, usually with Grandma helping us to persuade the others) to let us bring Trixie into the trailer with us for a half hour or so. On these occasions, we got to play our favorite game. My sister and I would lie on our stomachs and bury our faces in our arms. Trixie would run around us excitedly, trying to get at our faces and lick us. We'd laugh and giggle.

Every now and then, Trixie would start to wander off. My sister or I would immediately raise our heads up and call to her with a little chant. "Trixie, Trixie, try and kiss me." At hearing this, the dog would become excited again and the game would start all over, making both my sister and I squeal with laughter. Grandma would watch all of this with a smile on her face. Grandpa wasn't always as impressed, but she managed to keep him from getting too upset.

Eventually, Grandma succumbed to the cancer that had been trying to claim her life ever since I knew her. Just before she went into the hospital the final time, she asked my sister and me to take care of Trixie for her. That's how that adorable little dog with the constantly bared teeth eventually came to be my dog. We had her until my second year in college. And while I never plaid the "try and kiss me" game with her after Grandma died, I loved her that entire time. Some days, I still miss her.

My father sent me this picture yesterday. He wondered how he was supposed to use the computer while Precious (who is visiting her grandparents for the month of August due to the number of times I'll be travelling during the month) is napping on the mouse and mousepad. Precious says: "Hey, if it's a mouse, I'm supposed to catch it, right?"

I finally created a YouTube account, so I thought I'd post a short video of my mother's kitten, Kisa. She's was about seven weeks old when I took this.

This weekend was absolutely fantastic. I managed to get out of work at 2:30 on Friday. I drove home, finished putting things in the car, and went to put Precious in her carrier. Unfortunately, she had figured out what was going on and had already hid under the guest bed. I actually had to tear the bed apart to get her -- which stressed her out more. I've decided that in the future, I'm waiting at least an hour after I get home before I try to cage her for a trip. She was rather worked up the entire trip because of everything. And then she was moody towards Kisa when we got to my parents' home.

The two cats didn't get along the best this weekend, though they were both starting to mellow by Sunday afternoon. Of course, it doesn't help that Precious is such a domineering bully and Kisa isn't one fifth her size. Things were exacerbated on Friday night when Precious decided to divebomb the little runt. From then on, Kisa was afraid of Precious and would hiss and spit any time she came near. Of course, this didn't keep the pipsqueak from being downright fascinated by Precious. Of course, the bigger cat had to remind Kisa who was the real boss whenever Kisa started to hiss and spit. I figure that when I go on retreat in August, things should be slightly better. By then, Kisa will be considerably larger and hopefully able to stand her ground better. Of course, I'm not sure if that will be an improvement or just a recipe for further confrontations.

On a side note, I have a one minute video of Kisa. I hope to eventually put it on YouTube. However, it's currently huge (30MB) and I first need to see what I can to do shrink the file size. This should be interesting, as I'm no expert when it comes to video. In fact, I'm rather out of my element.

Friday night, I took my parents' out to Chili's. I don't think I've taken them out to dinner since I moved up here to Rochester. That's someowhat troubling to me, as I used to take them out regularly. In fact, while I lived at home, every birthday, anniversary, Mother's Day, and Father's Day involved a dinner on me. So I figured I was well overdue. We had a great time, though the music was a bit loud for our tastes. Mom and Dad had never eaten at Chili's before, and they felt their first experience was quite well. And I had a great time admiring our waiter's aesthetic qualities.

Saturday, Mom and I wandered over to the Laurel Festival in Wellsboro. We wandered the craft fair and had a great time. I ended up picking up a gorgeous throw pillow with a black bear on it. I also picked up the Brat Queen a pillow filled with catnip, which she adores. (I figured it'd give her something besides the kitten to beat up on.) I also checked out a gorgeous stone fountain and a framed painting of a cougar sitting next to a cliff. I loved both items, but decided they each cost more than I was prepared to spend that day. (Besides, getting the car to that part of town to pick up the rather heavy fountain would've been a headache.)

Beyond that, I just had a pleasant visit with my parents. It was a fantastic weekend.

Well, I hadn't originally planned on taking a short hiatus, but it appears that's what happened. It was a matter that I got so busy the last few days, that I just didn't take the time or find the energy to write an entry. Oh well, I think I needed the break, anyway.

I needed a break from life in general, I think. This afternoon, I took a two and a half hour nap and did hardly anything today. In fact, the only thing I did was go down to the park and go for my walk. I haven't been doing that for over a month now. Well, not regularly, at least. I've been walking here and there at different times, but I need to work on my consistency again.

My sister and her kids are away for a couple of days. They decided to drive down to New Jersey today and spend a couple nights with a friend my sister made while she and her husband were stationed down there. That means that I got a relatively quiet house all day. So I don't have to stay up until almost midnight to get two solid hours of peace and quiet before bedtime.

I'm finding I need that peace and quiet before I go to bed. It helps me to relax more, so I'm more ready to drift off to sleep. And anything that will help me drift off more easily is definitely a welcome change. I think that's part of why I'm still cutting back on my television watching so much. Not having my brain inundated by television is more mentally calming too. Though I watched more television this week than the previous week. That's partly because I decided to watch a couple of movies on DVD. I was in the mood to watch Blade Friday night (I didn't get home in time to watch it on TNT from the beginning). But I couldn't find my DVD. So I ended up watching The Matrix instead. Though now I'm going a little crazy wondering where that DVD got off to.

On Friday, I had to take my mother's miniature schnauzer to the groomer. We got his shaved down. He looks funny, but I'm getting used to the look. Instead of looking like a giant dust mop with legs, he now looks like a real dog. He still needs to be trimmed up around the chin a bit, but the groomer said she was having problems with him because the sound of the clippers bothered him. But she's sure that he'll get used to it after a couple of groomings. The next one will be in six to eight months. Hopefully, getting it done will convince Mom that regular grooming will help the poor guy with his skin problems.

On Saturday, I went to see my friends Mike and Amber. I finally got to meet their little bundle of legs, fur, and teeth, Shamrock. He's a twelve week old Italian Greyhound. And he's absolutely adorable, but he's a handful. He's about the only dog I've met that is more hyper than my mother's dog or my sister's black lab mix. And unlike either of those dogs, Shamrock is flexible enough to still chew on you if you try to hold him with your hand on the underside of his neck. But I didn't get any visible scratches, so it's all good.