My Sweet Tara

Tara is gone. She is now playing with Scarlett, Katie, Mellie, Scupper, Sam and Sam II. Her battle with Lymphosarcoma was short, just shy of 12 weeks, but she was a fighter. Her case was atypical, and there were no guarantees when we started chemo, but we had to give it a shot. After trying three different protocols, the oncologist took her off meds last Tuesday. She has been on "comfort care" for a week. Last night, or really early this morning, she was struggling to breathe, and could barely stand on her own. This morning, we made the hardest decision, but really there was no decision to be made at all. We were not going to have her suffer. She was too good for that.

Everyone has been so supportive through this, and I feel fortunate to have so many wonderful people in my life. The words of encouragement here on the blog and on Facebook are truly what got me through some of the roughest days. My whole family has been wonderful, from going to appointments with me, letting Emma and Cooper out on the days that Tara had chemo and I would be away from home for most of the day, to just being there when I needed them the most.

My work has been wonderful, allowing me to work from home when I couldn't leave Tara, approving vacation days no-questions-asked, and my coworkers picking up the slack the days I wasn't at work. I even got a new boss in the middle of all of this, and I wasn't there until the afternoon on her first day of work because of one of Tara's treatments. How lucky am I to work for a place that understands that pets aren't just pets, they are so much more than that?

OK, I'm really blubbering now, so I will just share some of my favorite pictures of my sweet girl and then go to bed.

Tara the first day we brought her home from the American Brittany Rescue transport. Look how scrawny she was!




When she first came here, she didn't know what toys were, but she learned pretty quickly!




She liked to help around the house, from cleaning out the cabinet where the trash and recycling bins are kept...











...to helping with the dishes.












She was fashionable...

...refined (eating off of a fork)...











...and loved. Loved so very much.















 I am positive that she is in heaven right now, because if there is a heaven, the worst dog in the world would be more deserving of a place there than the best human.

Ups and Downs

It has been a month full of ups and downs. Literally. One day Tara would be covered with lumps...


...and after a treatment at Red Bank Veterinary Hospital, they would be gone.












Now if only they would STAY gone. Everyone following on Facebook knows that Tara is now on her third protocol. The first one worked great, but only for 4-6 days at a time. By the time her weekly appointment with the oncologist rolled around, the lesions were creeping back. They kept coming back faster and more numerous as the weeks went by, so Tara was switched to a second protocol. That was last Wednesday. Things looked good on Thursday, but by Friday the lumps returned. Over the weekend, they kept growing, and more and more kept coming. Clearly protocol 2 wasn't working. Tara went back to Red Bank on Tuesday, and the oncologist put her on yet another protocol. It's Thursday now, and the lumps are getting smaller, but not at the rapid pace that they shrunk up before. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe this time they will slowly shrink up and go away and stay away. Maybe the third time is the charm???

On another matter, totally unrelated to Tara, (who am I kidding, everything I think about and everything I do is 100% related to Tara), remember those posts I did a while ago about getting out of debt? You know, how I took a second job, and I cut up all my credit cards and vowed never to go into debt again? Funny thing about that... It's not gonna happen. I cash flowed the first month of Tara's treatment from my emergency fund (after all, what could possibly be more of an emergency than a sick dog, right?) but that well quickly ran dry, and guess who opened up a credit card?

It's not a terrible kind of credit card, though. It's called "Care Credit" and it's only for medical or dental expenses, for you and your pets. I hate posting about this and including a link, but I thought I would mention it in case anyone else finds themselves in a similar situation.

So, back to Tara. I don't want anyone to think that I'm allowing Tara to be used as a canine pincushion or a lab rat. I hate the fact that she is getting poison in her system every week. I hate the fact that that there isn't one treatment that works for every dog. I hate the fact that Tara's case is atypical, which just adds another element of surprise. (These kinds of surprises I could do without!) That's a lot of hate. But, as long as Tara is tolerating the chemo well with no (or minimal) side effects, we are going to give her every shot (no pun intended) to go into remission.

In the meantime, Tara spends her days hanging out with her brother and sister...

...taking naps...












...letting the ceiling fan blow her belly hair...












...and modeling mommy's knitting.

Tara thanks everyone for their continued prayers and healing vibes. She says she can feel your support, and it just makes her want to fight all that much harder. Keep 'em coming!

What a Difference a Day Makes!

If I didn't see it with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, I wouldn't believe it. Tara woke up this morning (after a good night's sleep), and the tumors are smaller. I'm not crazy. Maybe I am crazy, but the lumps really ARE smaller. Some of the little ones are gone. The bigger ones that were about the size of a goose egg are smaller. They have maybe decreased by half. One dose of chemo, and the lumps are going away. I can't tell you how thrilled I am. I had to share right away since I know so many people are following her progress and sending prayers, vibes and healing thoughts her way. We feel all of that support, and are truly appreciative. It makes a huge difference.

I've tried to get photos, but it's hard with her long fluffy hair. The best I can do is show you this one from May 1st. She is eating a french fry after one of her vet appointments, and you can see a couple of lumps on the top of her head. That was five days ago, and they were just getting larger every day.

Here is a picture of her this morning. Can you see the lumps? Nope! They are so small that you can't tell they're there unless you feel her head. She looks a little grumpy in the photo, but that's just because I've been following her all around and rubbing her all over, keeping her from getting her morning nap.

She is tolerating the chemo really well, slept great, and had a hearty breakfast. One of the lumps in her mouth was bleeding quite a bit yesterday whenever she would lay on her right side, so her "hearty breakfast" was all soft foods, but she enjoyed it just the same.

I don't have any false expectations, and know that each week she will get a different chemo drug, and she may have side effects. Her best case prognosis is 18 months, but they will be 18 quality months. It would have been a few weeks, at the most, without chemo, and I have to believe they would have been rough weeks for her. Right now, every day with her is a blessing.

Too Numerous To Count

This past week feels like it has been at least a month long. This past month seems like a year, or a decade. I feel like I have been walking through a fog, with occasional episodes of a reality so freaking unreal. I've got to tell you, the fog is looking pretty good right about now.

Four days ago we got the detailed report on Tara's tumor. You know, the ONE tumor she had on April 9th. The ONE tumor that was removed on April 10th. The ONE tumor that, one week later was joined by six others. The six tumors, that just one more week later were joined by 20+ others. And then this morning, I found out that if there are more than 50 tumors on your dog, the doctor lists it as "too numerous to count." Yes, indeedy.

Two days ago we saw an Oncologist in Malvern, PA. Wonderful facility, but they kindly said that they don't take cases as extensive as Tara's, and referred us to Red Bank Veterinary Hospital in Tinton Falls, NJ. That same day we took Tara to an Holistic vet. Somebody asked me what holistic is, and I don't know what the official definition is, and I'm too tired to make the effort to link to wikipedia, but it's all natural remedies, with herbs, massage, acupuncture, and stuff like that. I learned a lot about the body and blood, and got some really good suggestions on changes to make to their dog food recipe. I also got a couple of supplements to aid in digestion and restore energy. The holistic vet also highly recommended Red Bank Veterinary Hospital. Her exact words were, "run, don't walk, to an oncologist." Not something you want to hear.

That brings us to this morning. We left at 7:00am for our 9:40am appointment with the head of Oncology at Red Bank Veterinary Hospital. (By the way, if anyone is keeping track, that's seven visits to four different vet offices in 4 weeks.)

 I have to tell you that I was immediately impressed with the facility. Bright, airy, immaculate, well thought out. You have got to go to the link above and click on "virtual tour." Really, really impressive. Every staff member I dealt with was kind and compassionate, even though I had been up all night (and looked it) and couldn't stop crying from the moment I got there. There was something so very final about this appointment. This was our last hope, and it is incredibly terrifying to take your sweet little girl through this door:

The doctor was so good with Tara, and kindly did not comment on the fact that I was a blubbering idiot. He was incredibly calming, he took his time with us, and answered every question. Even the stupid ones. In a nutshell, we learned that Tara's cancer is atypical. Lymphomas usually appear in the lymph nodes (around the neck, in the groin area, etc.) and then go to the internal organs. Tara's cancer is sub-cutaneous, under the skin, and is over her whole body, but ONLY directly under the skin. No organ involvement. That's a good thing. It is also extremely aggressive. Remember the "too numerous to count" comment? That's a bad thing.

Typical lymphomas have a 75-80% remission rate after chemo. That's good. With Tara, he said all bets are off, and would estimate a 50-50 chance of remission. That's either good or bad, depending on the whole is the glass half full or half empty kind of thing. Apparently dogs have only about 10-15% chance of having side effects from the chemo, as opposed to 90% chance in humans. If this was a typical lymphoma, we could expect an 80% reduction in the lumps in the first week. Again, Tara is not typical, so no guarantees.

With all that in mind, we elected to begin chemo. With such a low chance of side effects, we had to go for the 50-50 chance. She goes back next Saturday to be evaluated, have more blood work done, and round two of chemo.

It is wrong for me to hope that since the tumors appeared so quickly, they might leave just as quickly? Maybe I'm not hopeful. Maybe it's wishful. More than likely it's delusional, but let me have my little fantasy, OK?

In the meantime, I am sitting here watching her.  Watching, watching, watching.

 







Is she breathing too fast? Too slow? Does she look thirsty? When did she pee last? Are those lumps any smaller yet? Less numerous???

Burgers and Fries!

Thanks to everyone for your kind and supportive comments to yesterday's post. Tara would really appreciate them, if she could read. Now the hugs and belly scratches from everyone...that's a language she understands. She says keep them coming! I appreciate the good thoughts, healing vibes and prayers, too.

Tara had a fun time at the vet today. She got to visit all the the vet techs, she saw her nanny, and she even got a massage from Dr. Bill. Truth be told, he was just checking out how many lumps have popped up the the last 7 days, but Tara thought it was a massage, so we're sticking with that. The decision was made not to remove any of the lumps. There is no reason to put her through another surgery at this point. Dr. Bill just did a needle biopsy of some of the larger lumps, took some X-rays, and then came back in the room with some choice expletives. Gotta love him.

Tara didn't care. She got to see her friends at the office, and then she got burgers and fries on the way home. The burgers she saved to share with her brother and sister at home, but the fries? Nope. She ate them right down.

Watch those fingers, mommy!

Emma and Cooper were not pleased that Tara got to go for a ride without them, but all was forgiven when she came back smelling like the Vee-Eee-Tee. The burgers she brought home helped, too.

What's next? In addition to the holistic vet appointment on Thursday afternoon, we have a 9am appointment with an oncologist in Malvern, PA. Unfortunately, we already know where that facility is. We took sweet Mellie there in 2007.

Oncology and Holistic in the same day? Sounds like we don't know what we are doing and are trying to cover all bases, doesn't it?

That's just about right.

More Burgers in Tara's Future...

Contrary to my last two posts, I have found that I am not at all brave. A brave person doesn't want to crawl right back into bed every morning so she doesn't have to face the day. A brave person isn't on the verge of tears every second of the day. A brave person wouldn't feel as though her whole world was caving in when she finds a new lump on her dog.

The additional testing came back on Tara's tumor, and it is not good. It has spread to the lymphatic system, but I didn't need the report to know that. There are new lumps appearing every day. Every freakin' day. Her head, neck, legs, back, sides...everywhere. You know that feeling of being punched in the gut and having all of the wind knocked out of you? That's what it's like with each new lump.

Last Tuesday when Tara had her stitches removed (from her surgery on April 10) we showed the vet the half dozen lumps that had appeared at that time. Tomorrow he will be taking one (or more) of them off to be biopsied, just to confirm what we already know to be true. It has spread. Like wildfire.

Thursday we will be taking her to a holistic veterinarian. At this point I kind of feel like it's closing the barn door after the horse has run off, but it can't hurt. Plus, Tara really loves to go for rides in the car, and she knows she gets a burger after every appointment! Here she is after getting her stitches out last week.

Nom, nom, nom!


The only good thing about this whole situation is that Tara feels perfectly fine. She is acting normal, eating and "eliminating" normally, playing with her toys, running around the yard, and generally being the sweetest dog in the whole wide world. Don't get me wrong, this whole thing sucks, but at least she has no idea it sucks.


It's my goal to keep it that way...

In Which I Become Brave...

Well, it's been less than a month (barely) since my last post, so I guess I'm getting better at blogging??? Probably not. I've just been so busy, and quickie updates on Facebook are much easier. Haven't found me on Facebook? Here I am. I am making up for the absence of posts with this very, very long one, so settle in...
Those of you who follow me on Facebook already know the worst. Ten days ago I found a lump on my sweet little Tara. 

 



It wasn't the normal fatty tumor that lots of female dogs get. It was large (about the size of a half dollar), round, hard and flat. I immediately thought the worst, of course. I called the vet right away and they said to bring her right in. As soon as WonderVet saw it, he said it had to come off and to bring her in the next day. (Love my WonderVet!)

 Tara is such a little trooper. She did great with the surgery and the stitches (and she has a LOT of stitches). Any time she would try to mess with the stitches you just had to look at her and say "Tarrrraaaa, Tattie, Tattie, Tattie" and she would stop.
She is such a sweetie pie... I have been trying (mostly unsuccessfully) not to freak out...too much.

We got the preliminary lab results that it is a malignant sarcoma, and that the surgical margins are clear. We are still waiting for a more detailed report. Tattie gets the stitches out on Tuesday, and the WonderVet will show me where all of her lymph nodes are so I can check them every day. Apparently that's the next probable place for a lump to appear.

 I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I hate the month of April. I totally blame April for every bad thing in the world. Not really, but I have so much anger over this. So very much...


So what about the title of this post... "In Which I Become Brave"? What's that about? Certainly not anything to do with Tara. I am the opposite of brave where the dogs are concerned. Not at all.

A very good friend who has a large heart, and an even larger dose of craziness (the way all good friends should be) has gone through a very nasty divorce over the last two years, and decided to move from New Jersey to Ohio. Her main concern about the move was her cats. She has 6 indoor cats, and 5 outdoor cats. The indoor and outdoor cats do not get along, or else they would all be indoor cats, so I offered to help drive the cats to Ohio. The plan was for her to drive the indoor cats and I would drive the outdoor cats. The moving date? April 15. April 15, 2011.

That date came and went, obviously, so then the moving date was was July, then November, then February, and then April again. (Yes, freaking April!) Plans were made to leave on April 4th, and I would return by train on April 6th in time to go to work on the 7th. I arranged for vacation time from work, we rented an SUV, and I bought my train ticket home.

 April 2nd comes, and she says she will never be ready, can we delay a week? I couldn't go the next week, so we decided on Monday, April 16th. We would leave early in the morning, arrive at her new home outside of Cleveland in the afternoon, have a couple of days to unpack and get things settled, and I would catch a train home on the 19th. The only passenger train that comes through northern Ohio heading east arrives at 12:25am. Middle of the night. Ugh, but no problem. We can deal with that.




She called me on Friday the 13th (that should have been a red flag) and said the movers would not be finished packing, and could we leave on Tuesday? Sure. No problem. At that point I was just as happy to be home with Tara, as it was six days after her surgery. I drove to her house anyway on Monday to help with getting the rental car, and any last minute packing that needed to be done.

Last minute packing? It looked like a tornado hit the house with "stuff" still everywhere. (This should have been another red flag.) Not to worry, she says, she is leaving lots of stuff in the house. OK. No problem. We pack until late that night, and make plans to leave at 9:00am on Tuesday.

 What happens next? Do we catch all of the cats? Do we go to Ohio? Stay tuned for the next installment in a day or so. For now, I am headed to Fortescue. No phone, no internet, but plenty of gnats! Heaven!

All about the dogs

It has been brought to my attention that the dogs didn't get a single mention in the last blog post. Of course, it was the dogs who made me aware of this major oversight. Actually, it was just Emma, but she said that since she is the alpha dog, hers in the only opinion that really counts.



So anyway, all three of the hooligans are doing fine. Emma continues to dominate everyone, including me, while Cooper continues to be the clueless boy that he is, and Tara continues to be the sweetest little thing in the world. Seriously, I have never had such a calm, quiet, easygoing dog as Tara. Just between the hours of 6am and 10pm, though. She is up at least two times every night, around midnight and then again around 3am. I've tried to ignore her and pretend I'm sleeping, but she knows better. She will stand over me and do one sharp, chirping bark every 10-15 seconds until I give up and take her outside. Her bark is just like the smoke detector when the battery is running low-- very hard to ignore. Having Tara is kind of like having a newborn baby, not that I have personal experience with that. Also, a newborn eventually sleeps through the night. Tara arrived on the Brittany Transport on St. Patrick's Day in 2005, so it's been almost seven years since I have slept through the night. Oh, well. A good night's sleep is highly over-rated.

Speaking of the Brittany Transport, I had this past Saturday off from Glitter World, and was able to finally participate in a Transport! This cute little guy's name is Jed.



He is four years old, and has been living with a foster family in Rhode Island. On Saturday, with the help of seven drivers, Jed made his way from Rhode Island to his forever home in Virginia. He is such a sweet boy. It only took a couple of miles on the NJ Turnpike for me to fall head over heels in love with him.


If he was going to a foster home instead of a forever home, I think Jed would be my fourth dog right now! He is in an excellent new home with a loving daddy, though. While we will never know what Jed's first few years of like were like, I am certain that his remaining years on this earth will be happy, and he will be a much loved, much spoiled little boy.

Another bite.

First things first... Happy Thanksgiving to all! Yes, I know it's not until tomorrow, but I am working tomorrow, and don't know if I will get a chance to blog.

Yes, that's right. I am working. On Thanksgiving. Glitter World is open, so I will be putting on my happy face and ringing up tons of glitter-covered-crap that people just can't live without and feel the need to buy on Thanksgiving Day. It's not so bad, really. It's just another thing to be thankful for, right? A job. Two jobs, actually. So many people would be thrilled to be working tomorrow, or any day at all, that I don't feel as though I can complain about working. At least I don't have to cook a Thanksgiving meal. Cracker Barrel, here we come! Yet another thing to be thankful for!

What else am I thankful for? Emma, Tara and Cooper, of course. Although they have their cute little noses out of joint because their little mousey brothers Stevie and Carlos got their pictures in the last blog post. Was there a single picture of the dogs? Nope. Sure, the dogs were mentioned in passing, but apparently that wasn't sufficient, and their egos have taken a hit. So, without further ado, I give you (drumroll, please)...

Cooper, Emma and Tara!


I wanted to get a picture of them doing something cute, but this is what they do 99% of the time. This photo is unusual in that all three babes are in one photo--a rare occurrence! I am so thankful that they are happy and healthy, particularly as Cooper and Emma would technically qualify as "seniors", although both can still act very much like puppies on occasion.

Here is another picture of the babes from today when I ran home from work to let then out at lunchtime.



That's Tara and Cooper. (Emma was camera shy.) It was raining, and Tara and Cooper hate getting their feet wet. I was standing out in the rain, getting soaked, cajoling and pleading with them to "come down and do pee pees". They are doing their best to ignore me. Notice the closed eyes... It kills me that the think that if they can't see me, I can't see them. Silly babes.

At the risk of doggie overload, here is a picture of Cooper and Tara from last week.


The chicken on the gate? That's Hanna. She is (or was) the neighbor's chicken. She has been living here for a couple of years. Notice Emma is not in this picture. She's afraid of Hanna. I know, I know... a bird dog who is afraid of a chicken. My dad says I have single-handedly ruined the breed by coddling my sweet babes.

Anyway, Cooper quickly lost interest, but not Tara. She and Hanna had a standoff, and I was about to be late for work.


The only thing I could do was "shoooo" Hanna off the gate.



Oh my, look at that ugly scar on my hand... We'll come back to that later.

Hanna decided she didn't want to be "shoooo'd" and found somewhere else to perch. On me.


She stayed on my arm until I walked to the woods and found a tree limb for her to perch on. Silly bird.

Back to the scar...

Ugly, isn't it? It's about six weeks old now, so it's actually looking a LOT better than it did. How did I get it? Another bite. It was more like a rip, really. My sister and I were on the beach at Fortescue, and a woman down the beach was fishing, and a seagull got caught in her fishing line. How? I have no idea. I've never seen that happen before.

Of course, I go running down the beach to lend a hand, and the seagull bites the hand that frees it! It wasn't his fault, though. The poor thing was terrified. The fishing line was wrapped around both wings and both feet. Between the three of us we managed to get him free and he flew away (thank-you-baby-jesus) leaving nothing but three happy women, and some blood on the beach. My blood, not his.

Fortunately, the seagull was not harmed in any way.

Fortunately, I now have a house a Fortescue, so was able to go and wash the wound with antibacterial soap & wrap it up.

Fortunately, I recently had a tetanus shot, (you know... from the mouse bites) so I feel protected from any heebie jeebies that seagulls might carry.

Unfortunately, I have an ugly scar, despite the use of Vitamin E cream.

Unfortunately, seagulls creep me out now. This is what I imagine every seagull is saying to me:



Unfortunately, the seagull incident was not the end of my adventures that day...

Stay tuned for another bite. Literally.

Pot Pie, Anyone???

Thanks again, everyone, for keeping dad in your thoughts and prayers. He came home from the hospital Thursday night, and is already driving mom crazy, ummm, up and around. You can't keep a good man down! The next milestone is Monday the 28th when we go back to Fox Chase for the full biopsy report and removal of the catheter. Ouch.

In other medical news, the babes all had their annual checkup at the evil Vee-Eee-Tee, (a.k.a. the WonderVet) yesterday. As I was getting my little car ready for the onslaught of three big brits, look who decided to help.


Yes, that is one of the neighbor's chickens. In my car. A chicken in my car.


I opened all of the doors and ran from side to side, trying to shoo that bird out of my car. At one point I might have been heard to threaten her with the stew-pot if she left any chicken poo in my car. Eventually, I did get her out of my car without having to act on that threat, and was able to get the babes into the car. By myself. I took all three hooligans, by myself, in my little Prius. What was I thinking? I have no idea. Here are a couple of shots of the babes in the back seat of my car





They were a little squished, but not for long. Emma jumped right into the front seat and planted herself in front of the air vents. She loves the feel of the air conditioning blowing right in her face, so I turned it on full blast. Big mistake. It felt like a meat locker in my car, but every time I turned the fan down, Emma would whine. :sigh:

Luckily, I had an early appointment and it wasn't too crowded in the waiting room. As soon as I got the babes into the office, they took off in three directions with me in the center holding the leashes. I felt like the hub of a wagon wheel. After much tangling and untangling of leashes, I managed to get them signed in and seated.

Then the vet's three-legged cat wandered out from behind the counter. Now, my babes hate cats, but a three legged cat? They figured that was easy prey. There was much whining and woo-wooing on the dogs' part while the cat calmly sat just out of reach, yawning, while I was pulling on the leashes with all of my strength, saying "we love kitties...kitties are our friends."

At that point the vet techs saved my arms from being pulled out of their sockets by calling us back into the exam room. God Bless the Vet Techs!!! I tried to get a photo of the babes, but this was the best I could do. Notice the leashes wrapped around my legs...



It was all worth it, though, as the WonderVet pronounced all three babes to be beautiful, healthy, happy and frightfully undisciplined. Who could ask for anything more? :-)

Desperate Cry for Help...

OK, knitting peeps... I need help. Big time help. I need a pattern and have been searching Ravelry off and on for a few weeks, and nothing pops out at me.

I want to knit an afghan and need a pattern. Not just any pattern... just the right pattern.

For a couple getting married. Not just any couple... my favorite couple.

That's right, two of my favorite people in all the world are getting married. The WonderVet and the WonderNanny are becoming one, which make me think that everything is right with the world! Seriously, could there be a more perfect union?

Now for the pattern... WonderVet is very Irish, so an Aran-celtic-cable-y pattern would be fabulous. Both are clearly animal lovers, (even going so far as raising a sheep in the house...remember this post from a couple of years ago?) so some kind of paw print or other animal-related-thingy incorporated into the design would be a plus. They have lots of dogs, so washable and durable are very important.

Is that too much to ask?

Any suggestions?

Oh, and because no blog post is complete without a photo, here is a seldom-seen shot of all three dogs in one photo! That's Emma peering over the back of the sofa doing her impersonation of a vulture, with Cooper and Tara on the big doggy bed below. Enjoy!

Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.....

First of all, thank you, everyone, for all of your support. Dad read the comments, and they are really appreciated!

The residents of Britknitterville woke up to more snow this morning. Ugh. Enough already!!! Yeah, it's pretty, but I refuse to take any more picture of the nasty white stuff. The good part about it is that work is closed until noon today. Yay! So, in between laundry and paperwork and scratching bellies, I am finally getting in another blog post.

Do you remember my little house at Fortescue? Well, not really MY house, but I consider it mine.



Hopefully some day, but more on that another time... Anyway, the little town of Fortescue has been in the news lately. This article on the feral cat colonies at Fortescue was in yesterday's paper. How can some of those people be so unfeeling? These cats are not hurting anyone. In fact, they are keeping down the rodent population on the island. Sheesh!

Here are some photos of the cats. We go down and feed them at least once a week. Aren't they beautiful?



The blue tubs are cat shelters. They are a tub within a tub, stuffed with insulation in between, and the "porthole" allows access for the cats while keeping the inner tub (stuffed with straw and blankets) nice and cozy.


Here is a recent photo of dad working on one of the tubs for the cats! Who knew he was a cat lover?


Tara says those cat shelters may be cozy, but she'll stick with her big doggy bed.

Dogs on Thursday, Halloween Edition

Hey, blog buddies...It's Emma, and I am hijacking the blog. Our momma has been so busy working two jobs that she has been seriously neglecting us, not to mention the blog, so we decided to take matters into our own hands. I mean, what are the chances that she would have gotten her act together and written a Dogs on Thursday post? Slim and none, I would say. So, without further ado, I present this humble offering, and wish one and all a Happy Halloween.

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Cast, in order of appearance:
Mad Scientist.....................Emma
Frankenstein.....................Cooper
Vampire..............................Joseph
Bride of Frankenstein........Lizzie
Werewolf...........................Tara

Inspired by.....Emma
Written by.......Emma
Directed by.....Emma
Produced by....Emma
Casting by.......Emma

Video Dogs on Thursday

Yes, I know I have missed two Dogs on Thursday posts. No excuse, other than the fact that I am obviously a very bad dog mommy! To make up for this lack of attention to the dogs (and the blog), I am including, for your viewing pleasure, a clip of the babes eating their breakfast this morning. It might be weird to some people that I filmed the babes eating, but I happen to think that the sound of dogs enjoying their food is one of the best sounds in the world. I just love the slurp-slurp-slurp sounds. It shows that the food is good, the babes have a hearty appetite, and for them, all is right with the world.

Enjoy!

Dogs on Thursday on Friday...again

Dogs on Thursday completely got by me this week. No excuses. No good excuses, anyway. I'll try and do better next week. ~sigh~

Anyway, remember the neighbor's chickens from this post? The ones that have been taunting the dogs? One of those not-too-terribly-bright chickens decided to make a nest and lay some eggs. Now, it's not the nest that I object to, it's the location of the nest. It is so close to the fence that the dogs can taste those eggs. Literally.


Not too smart of that silly chicken. Here is a video that I took yesterday of the dogs and chickens.



The real fun part is that Spartacus (the rooster) feels the need to hover around the nest and display his machismo whenever the dogs or I are out in the yard.



It wouldn't be so bad, except that he is not content to simply flap his wings and cock-a-doodle-doo. He feels need to chase you, which can be might inconvenient when you need to get to work in the morning. I've told him he's going to end up on a rotisserie, but I think he knows it's just an empty threat. Maybe I should play him this video clip from Cold Mountain. It's one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite movies:



Take that, you floggin' rooster!

Dogs (and Chickens) on Thursday

Cooper here!

I'll be your host for this week's Dogs on Thursday. For the second week in a row, we have been invaded by evil pests just in time for the DOT post. Last week it was evil cats, this week it is evil CHICKENS!

Momma calls them Spartacus (for the bad-boy rooster) and Hanna and her Sisters. She can't tell the hens apart, so they're all either Hanna or Sister.


These pesky strays are always hanging around. Momma isn't sure where they live, but the certainly like to visit us. They eat the birdseed out of the bird feeders, and the cat food right off of the cat's plates. Guess what their favorite flavor is... Chicken! Stupid cannibals...

But I digress. This morning, Spartacus came right up to the fence and started pecking at us through the gate! The nerve of that feathery beast! Doesn't he know that Brittanys are bird dogs?

We had no choice but to teach that bird brain a lesson! That's me there, on the left, with Tara and Emma. I figured I should hang back and let the girls take the lead.

Eventually Tara got bored, but Emma was nose to nose with that evil bird. Again, I was a strong back-up.


Yeah, that's right... Get on outta' here, you flea bitten bag of feathers.


Run away, just like the chickens you are!

My work here is done!