“Would you mind if I just check my email first?” Bailey asked.
Angela doesn’t make out with ALL the dogs on transport day, just most of them.
(In her defense, that is Max’s tongue you see, and not Angela’s!)
“I’ll just have some of that coffee, please.”
I believe I shared that Tom and I have moved our bed into half of my old office. And therein lies the reason for the only festive thing we’ve accomplished this season. Hanging remnants from last year’s wrapping paper on the French doors so Pollock can’t come stare at us while we sleep. He sends the Bat Pack into a barking frenzy, even though they all like Pollock. I guess they, like us, don’t feel like being a zoo or museum exhibit.
Only one in three dogs* can sleep peacefully on stripes against 1970s linoleum in a room still waiting to be recovered after flood damage almost four months later. They liked the laminate that used to cover this linoleum. Soon it will be GONE and replaced by tile.
Related: Keith the Contractor agrees with me that the faux-alligator (or is it crocodile?) wallpaper must stay. The first time I saw it, I figured we’d be pulling it off the wall. But it sort of grew on me.
*The Bad Dog. He dreams of eating alligators. Or crocodiles.
This is Bessie.
Bessie had a LOT to talk about today. We listened, but we’re not really sure what we heard. I think she was telling jokes.
“The summer between her second and third grade years, she decided she’d rather be a tree. Every day she’d take a bucket of water to the woods behind the house, pour the water on the ground, and carefully place her bare feet into the muddy soil. She’d stand still for what felt like the entire afternoon, and when she could no longer endure standing still, would examine her feet for any sign of roots.
Disappointed after a couple of weeks, she was struck by a conversation between her uncle and aunt when they talked about growing roses and what they called ‘grafting.’ She stopped taking water to the woods. Instead, she took books from her uncle and aunt’s library to read while she pressed her back, or an arm, or her feet, against a tree trunk. The grafting process never worked and she remained fully human, but she did read a lot of good books that summer.”
I take photos. I write. Mostly I only take photos of Rescued Pets Movement’s rescued dogs and cats. Since working and volunteering don’t leave me a lot of time to write, I’m spending 2017 borrowing from what these dogs and cats are writing. They said it’s okay.
I’m too busy to remember that I have a fundraiser going on, and so far, I’m the only person who’s contributed to it because I’m a terrible networker. I also know it’s a tough time of year when most people’s budgets are already strained, so I’m not surprised or even disappointed. This is just reality. If you’re able to help, please click here.
Sunday we pulled a tiny puppy from BARC–he and his brother, actually–only to hear from his foster that he wasn’t doing well. She was so worried that she took him to one of Houston’s best ER vets, and Tim went by to visit him later. He has parvo. Today he’ll be transported from the ER vet to one of our veterinary partners who has pulled many parvo puppies through for us. Tim sent this photo of him.
Parvo always hits me hard because I’ll never forget Pollock and his sister Ruby’s littermates. They were the first litter of puppies pulled by RPM from BARC, and they were to be fostered by Hanley’s mom Laura. Since she had to be out of town for a few days, Tim took them (and I shared photos of all of them in several blog posts in September 2013), then they went to Laura’s after she returned. Big Guy became sick and was held back the day the rest of the litter including Pollock (he was Little Guy then) and Ruby were loaded on the van and were on their way out of town. Laura got a call from the vet with bad news: Big Guy had parvo. So the rest of the litter were pulled off the van and came back to The Compound. The deal was that all the puppies would stay with Tim. If they got sick, they’d go to the vet, where two vet techs were fiercely committed to caring for them. Then if they made it, they’d go to Laura’s until they were well enough to travel.
One by one, each of those puppies got sick and died because of parvo despite everyone’s best efforts to save them. Ruby was the only one who got parvo and pulled through, and Laura adopted her so she could get her strong and well. Little Guy never left Tim’s and never got parvo but did get his new name, Pollock. There was no way after all that loss Tim could let Pollock travel to Colorado. They were meant to be together.
Neither Tim nor I put that story on our blogs back then because it was too painful. RPM was new and that was a tough part of the beginning. Now more than 25,000 transported dogs, cats, and pigs later, no one connected to RPM ever forgets the ones we lose. So many of them come off the streets and out of the shelter sick and broken, and that’s why we say we rescue, rehabilitate, and transport. The financial impact is huge, but that’s part of RPM’s commitment. We don’t pull only healthy animals. We pull animals in need. Thanks to our rescue partners and their compassion and commitment, we’re able to do our best to get them healthy before they travel. Thanks to our donors and grantors, we’re able to pay for it.
All that is to say that I was already emotionally invested in today’s little puppy even before I realized his name (given to him by my records partner at RPM, Lynn), which is Frisbee. That reminded me of the late Rob Edler (person belonging to Mlle. Renee, another amazing rescue dog). His LJ user name was Cody Frizbee Jr. I felt moved to contribute to little Frisbee’s medical bills because of Rob and Renee, Ruby and Pollock.
I hope he makes it.
The Bad Dog keeps getting on my desk anytime I forget to pull my desk chair far away from it. He steals my pencils. First he eats the polymer eraser covers, then he eats whatever is left of the old erasers, then he destroys the pencils. Sometimes he enlists the Middle Dog to join him in this destruction. My Two Thugs.
These two were recovered post-eraser/pre-wood damage.
It’s the last day of November and this is a very serious puppy. He’s probably wondering if he’s on Santa’s Good List as the season approaches. (He is.)