All She Wants for Chrismas......

....Is a home of her very own!  This is Lucy the beagle mix, and she is looking for her forever home in or near southern Ontario, Canada. 

Hai! I'm Lucy! And I need a home!

(All photos and info used with Lucy's permission -
or at least that of her foster mom!)

I don’t usually profile out-of-province dogs here – heaven knows there are enough dogs in rescues and shelters right here in BC.  But Lucy has been in foster care for 528 days and counting – yes, you read that correctly.  Five Hundred Twenty-Eight Days.  A dog-forum-friend of mine just north of Guelph, Ontario is fostering her for Speaking of Dogs rescue.  And the rescue, the foster mom, and Lucy really, really, really want to find her forever home by Christmas.

A home of my own would be
even better than a stuffed kong!
Yes!  Really!

So I said I would help.  About 10% of my blog readers live in Ontario.  And  while 70% of my blog readers are in BC,  I bet at least half of those know people in Ontario. And even if those readers and friends can’t take on a dog, they also have friends in Ontario. You tell two people, and they tell two people, and so on and so on and so on.  And somewhere, somewhere among the 12 million or more people in Ontario (or within a short distance of its borders) is Lucy’s forever home.  They don’t have to live in Guelph, but Lucy can’t be shipped so they need to be close enough (within a few hours drive) for the home check, the transport, the follow up.  

I gotta be able to get to
your place by car!  

And,  like any responsible rescue, they are looking for the RIGHT home for Lucy.  Someone who has done their homework, read the information, has the right home, has the commitment, is willing to work with her.  In return, Lucy will give them tons of entertainment (just check out the videos on her facebook page!) and love. 

From Lucy’s facebook page:

My name is Lucy, and I've been in rescue for WAY too long. Will YOU take me home?
I’m a 7-year-old spayed female Beagle mix who weighs in at about 45 pounds. I was given away by the only family I ever knew May/2013 because they were having a baby. It was a sad day, but I guess I'm glad I didn't have to live with a baby! 

My foster parents say I am a good problem solver. I love my puzzle toys and Kongs. I’m a thinker and really thrive when I am kept busy with training and learning new things. Nothing makes me happier than the sights and scents of a trail hike. I need an owner who enjoys keeping up with my superior mind!

My foster parents say that I have the cutest wiggly greeting they've ever seen. I, of course, need to be holding my ducky or rabbit for the full effect. A favourite past time is balling up my blanket and sucking on a big chunk of it. You can see all the endearing things I do in the pictures and video on this page.

Even though my good points definitely outweigh the so-called “bad” ones, there are a few things my new people need to consider in order to ensure we are a good match: 
Dogs and children make me very uncomfortable, so I need to be in a home where there are no dogs or children younger than their mid-teens. I've been cat tested, and my foster parents said that I got a little too crazy to be able to live with one - but gosh I wish I could! (It would be so fun... for me, anyway) 
I’m still learning that dogs aren’t as bad as they appear, but they still upset me, so it’s important that my new person is able to help and protect me rather than punish me if I become upset or flustered. Whoever wants to take me home has to be ready to help me with this issue and go about it the right way - I know it can be frustrating to have a dog who barks and gets upset, but I'm just trying to save myself from those who frighten me!
A house would be the best place for me; I don’t bay like a hound and I certainly don't bark excessively, I will bark if I hear activity outside the window. I don't have any troubles with separation anxiety right now, but I used to, so my new forever people will have to help me transition into my new home.
I have two medications that I take daily, the total cost per month is less than $50. No big deal!

I’ve been waiting a long, long time for a forever home. Will you be my "happy-everafter"?

If you are interested in meeting me you can email Lorraine (Lorraine@speakingofdogs.com) or Emily (emilyannefisher@gmail.com) for an application.

Hope to meet you soon! Wags, Lucy

 

Pleeeease?  Find my forever home?
(How can you resist these eyes?)

So let’s see if we can’t help out my friend Emily and her foster dog Lucy by spreading the word.  Send a link to this blog page to everyone you know in Ontario or who might know people in Ontario, or share Lucy's facebook page and ask your facebook friends to share too.  And if you are part of a rescue organization, will the director give her a courtesy post? They can share her photos from here, share her facebook page, or send a message to the links below and the foster mom will send a bio and pictures.

Let’s help Lucy get the one thing she really, really, really wants for Christmas.  It’s not two front teeth.  It’s simply a forever home.  And it is out there waiting to hear about Lucy. Help spread the word. 
 

Where you’ll find out more:

Lucy’s facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/Lucyneedsahome 

Lucy’s rescue’s website: http/speakingofdogs.com

Lucy’s petfinder ad:  https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/30240116

Foster mom’s email:  emilyannefisher@gmail.com

Musings on ageing dogs and ageing parents

But mostly on ageing dogs and the quality of life.

On Thursday, I delivered Petey to the rescue where he is to be placed with another foster home and be more accessible to potential adopters if he is deemed adoptable, and to vet care if he is not.  Today, I ran over to the mainland to visit my 93 year old mom in her care facility.  Two hours each way on a ferry give one a lot of time for thinking about their similarities, and the issue of quality of life.

There are some who would say it is wrong to send a blind, deaf, ancient foster dog to yet another home instead of finding a way to continue to provide care here.  There are some who would say that they would never put their ageing parent in a facility; that it is the responsibility of adult children to look after ageing parents.  There are some who will keep critters and humans alive at all costs until they are immobile, incontinent of bowel and bladder, and devoid of all pleasures in life.

I am not that person. 

The very elderly, be they human or canine, need 24-7 care. The caregivers at my mom's facility are far more competent and well trained than I am to provide her with the care she requires, even though I know she wishes she was not there. 

Dogs, however, pose a different challenge.  As a deaf, blind, ancient little dog who has obviously had a traumatic and neglectful past, Petey becomes very distressed when left alone.  I live alone, in a small village with two very small convenience stores.  Period.  If I need to do some banking, go to a doctor’s appointment, do a major grocery shop, pick up something from a hardware or drugstore, I am going to be gone at least two hours. Taking Eddie for his much-needed walks means Petey is guaranteed to be left alone for at least an hour twice a day.    I don't have an army of volunteers or any paid staff to tend to the dogs. And one can only call on friends so often – a situation I try to reserve for emergencies or at least very important family –related concerns. 

Taking Petey with me is seldom an option – he can't be left alone in the car, even if the temperature isn't too hot, and virtually no stores here (with the exception of pet stores) allow dogs inside -  not even the post office where I pick up my mail. 

Petey  is a very content dog when lying in my arms , and does usually nap peacefully in one of his many beds as long as I’m in the same room.  He even putters around the yard with me quite happily for a half hour or so at a time.  But his need for 24 hour care cannot be met here, and I will not see a dog in frequent distress with no chance of it being relieved in the current environment.  

A challenge indeed. 

And that leads to a bigger question:  At what point does one decide that a dog's quality of life is so compromised that it may be time to euthanize?  Only when a medical crisis hits?  Or is there a point at which a dog whose little ticker beats just fine should be helped to cross the bridge?  Petey's situation aside, I will eventually face that dilemma with my Sadie, who has insulinoma, an incurable cancer with a poor prognosis.  I will not see a dog become totally immobilized in its own urine and feces, reliant on a human to even get them from basket to door.  I honestly do not think a dog who has been ‘clean’ since puppyhood likes that feeling – even if it is contained in doggy diapers.  As a short term or occasional issue – such as post surgery, or the occasional accident – that’s okay.  But as a permanent situation – No.  When Sadie reaches the point where she can no longer get up, or where her occasional accidents in the house become a routine from total loss of bladder and bowel control,  I will opt to euthanize her.  So far, I have been lucky that all my many dogs have decided for themselves before reaching that point.

When I took on Petey nearly six months ago, I anticipated he may be with me for two or three months – while he had and recovered from his dental surgery and his eye surgery – and then he would be promoted on the website and facebook and find a forever home.  I was prepared to give up that much time, that much of my life – temporary responsibility is part of the reason I foster rather than adopt more dogs. For reasons that are complicated, and for which no one is as fault, this did not happened.  The decision on his eye surgery is still pending as far as I know;  and no one foresaw the incredible need he has to be with a human full time, nor the extent to which being some distance from the preferred vets used by the rescue would be problematic.

I have been blessed to have Petey in my life for these six months, and I hope I have been some comfort to him.  But I also know that I do not want to, and cannot, provide 24/7 care for a dog over whom I do not have full decision making power.  

The dogs I adopt will always be with me to the end.  But I am the one who decides when the quality of life is no longer satisfactory.  Sadie will never be given away or euthanized simply because she needs frequent care due to her insulinoma. But nor will I keep her alive once she no longer has what I consider to be a reasonable quality of life – once she can no longer walk, can no longer control her bladder and bowels, once her collapses can no longer be controlled by medications without significant negative side effects.  I do not look forward to making that decision, but I also won’t rush it.  

With Petey no longer here, I can once again leave the house for 4-5 hours at a time.  There may come a time when Sadie’s needs mean those outings are shorter.  But I am convinced that when it means she needs 24 hour care, seven days a week, her quality of life will be one that neither she nor I would consider acceptable. 

Perhaps others have greater tolerance than I for being away from the house knowing full well that one of the critters is barking and crying hysterically.  Perhaps others are home more, or have other family members or volunteers who can stay with a dog so needy.  If so, then Petey is better being moved to such an environment than staying here.  And if not, then it will be up to the rescue to make a decision regarding his quality of life.

I know what I would do.

And not everyone would agree. 

(Postscript:  as of this afternoon, Petey is now listed on the rescue's Facebook  page as available for adoption. The rescue having made its decision, it is my sincere hope that he will find the type of home and 24/7 caregiver that he needs for his final months or years.)

Sumbody Save Me!

By Petey

Ah dunno about my foster mama.  First she takes such nice
photos of me to show my transformation



An' then she sticks me in this dorky hat she found
at some thrift store on the mainland.



Do I look happy?



Sumbody adopt me and save me from this humiliation!



Doggy Dynamics and Kitty Chaos

Watching the dynamics around here is interesting, with each day, each week, each month that Lucy is with us bringing changes in both Lucy's personality and in her relationship with the other critters.

Yesterday I made another one day trip to the mainland to see how mom is doing in her new place (very well! she loves it!), and Lucy spent the day at Gail's. My neighbour, Mary, came over to let Sadie and Charley out, feed them and take them for a walk. When I brought Lucy home thirteen hours later, she went into the same over-the-top OMG-I'm-so-glad-to-be-home zoomies, bouncies, and kissies as she did the last trip. What was different this time, compared to just ten days ago, was Sadie and Charley's reaction to her - they both wanted to play with her, with their ears up and tails wagging and happy, happy faces. Now, that I did NOT expect - especially from Charley who gets incredibly upset when Lucy hogs all the attention around here, and surely would prefer that Lucy just stay away.

There's been a few other changes, too, in the past few weeks. Lucy now routinely chases the cat and tries to play with her. That's not as bad as it sounds - don't forget, Allie is a tortie cat, full of mischief herself. Allie taunts Lucy, sitting on the edge of a piece of furniture, hunched over like a vulture, ready to swat Lucy as she walks by. I have seen Allie strut up to where Lucy is sleeping and meow right in her face. And Lucy never hurts Allie, and I've never seen Allie hiss or swat at Lucy even though she has done so at other dogs (and people) we've had here. So it's all in fun.

The problem with Lucy's and Allie's fun is that it becomes messy, destructive fun. Allie tears around the house, flying from furniture to furniture. Lucy is close behind, bouncing up and down on her invisible pogo stick, trying to see the tops of the furniture to track Allie's movements. And anything loose on the top of the furniture either goes flying with Allie or gets knocked off by Lucy. Of course, once it is on the floor, it is fair game - a dog toy!

And so in the hour I spent away from the house today, they managed to drag the cover off the sofabed (again), knock the placemats off the table (again), and bring a tiny foot-high live Christmas tree to its knees. The tree was a gift from my friend Else, and came decorated with styrofoam snowballs and a comical black and white styrofoam penguin. It was placed in the very centre of the dining room table. The tree survived, the snowballs and penguin did not.

Fortunately, Lucy didn't eat the styrofoam. She just decided to scatter the little white pieces everywhere and leave the evidence for me to clean up. She and Allie also rearranged the furniture somewhat - lightweight furniture apparently slides easily on laminate flooring, and tips over where flooring meets carpet - with the help of a cat and a fifty pound pogo-sticking dog.

I finally brought in an extra crate so the serious crate training can begin. Lucy does use Charley's big crate sometimes (with the door open), but Lucy has already taken over Charley's raised bed (as well as Sadie's couch and my chair), so I decided it wouldn't be fair to Charley to lock Lucy up in Charley's crate when I'm out. From now on, all treats and meals will be fed to Lucy in what used to be Oliver's crate, and she shall learn to comfortably spend increasing lengths of time in the crate with the door shut. She did very well at dinner tonight - not a whine or a peep when she was done. She just sat at the crate door and sent me a look that clearly said "Okay, that was good, let me out now". And I did. At which she and the cat resumed their little game of indoor tag.

Lucy really needs a home of her own. Any takers out there?

(Lucy is being fostered for the Cowichan and District SPCA. She really is a wonderful dog - a cuddlebug extraordinaire, who listens well, walks nicely on leash, loves being brushed, holds up her paws to have her nails done, and is the most loyal companion imaginable. She will eventually outgrow her youthful exuberance, and no doubt if I stuck with my own motto of "A tired dog is a good dog" there would be a bit less chaos around here.)

A different kind of homecheck

I often do homechecks for various rescues, ensuring the applicant for a dog is as good a match in person as they appear on paper. Homechecks involve meeting with the potential caregivers/new family, having a look around the home to watch for potential safety and comfort issues, as well as finding out where the dog will sleep and where she/he will stay when caregivers are tending to other matters. Homechecks also involve having a discussion about such things as food, exercise requirements, special needs, and appropriate training methods for the particular dog the family hopes to adopt.

Some people object to the lengthy application forms and inconvenient homecheck process imposed by responsible animal rescues. They'd rather just buy a puppymill dog from a petstore – no questions asked, no information exchanged. And some unethical breeders dispose of their pups just as carelessly – selling them to the first person to reply to their newspaper ad and bring the money to the breeder. No concern for what happens to that pup, no concern for the type of care it will receive.

Yesterday, my family received a call that a 'complex care' bed was finally available for my mom who has been on the health authority’s priority wait list for six months now. Under the rules for subsidized care, the bed must be accepted and the senior moved into it within 48 hours or the person is removed from the list for a month and forfeits their place at the top of the list.

This 48 hour rule is, of course, a challenge when the adult children don't live in the same community as mom's current seniors' residence. It is even more of a challenge when one sibling is out of the country, another on an island with animals to care for, and the third has just that morning left mom's to head back to her home on the other side of the mountains, five hours away.

And the facility with the available bed is neither one that was on our preferred list, nor even in the same communities as the ones we had targeted. In fact, we'd never heard of the facility. But the goddess smiled, and we were able to catch my sister before she crossed the mountains, and send her high-tailing it back to the coast to check out the place.

It may seem like I have digressed from my original topic, but it occurred to me this morning that there are parallels between checking out a complex care facility and doing a homecheck. In both cases, we are trying to find surrogate families and safe havens for sentient beings who have been displaced for reasons beyond their control.

If, as we animal lovers claim, animals are 'family members', then why would we not want to ensure that their placement is appropriate and they will be safe and well cared for? Why would we not want to meet the potential caregivers and see the dog's potential home? Why would we not want to be just as cautious in their placement as we are in placing our moms and dads into care facilities?

Just as the relevant BC ministry or health authority sets out standards of care that seniors’ care homes must meet or exceed, and develop guidelines and procedures to match people with places, so too rescue organizations develop standards, guidelines, and procedures. When I do a homecheck for a reputable rescue, I can be confident that the place and people I am going to see have already met some of the basic criteria set out by the rescue. My job is to ensure that the home will, in fact, be the right match for this particular dog.

And so with my mom, we take a certain amount as a given - that the facility the health authority is sending us to look at meets certain standards for care. But whether this is a right match for mom is up to us to determine by a 'homecheck'. And so my sister met with the potential caregivers, saw the room mom will have, checked out other aspects that would affect mom's quality of life such as issues of physical comfort, mental stimulation, and safety. And she talked with the caregivers to reassure herself that mom will always be treated with dignity and respect.

And much to our relief, it all checked out. Tomorrow my mom moves to her new facility and begins yet another chapter of her very, very long life.

Now……if only we can find the right match for a certain foster dog named Lucy. And, yes, a homecheck will be required.

Adopting pups from shelters and rescues

Deli has a family!

Yesterday I received a call to let me know Deli has gone into foster-to-adopt (pending her spay). She is the long legged brindle girl with lots of energy, and has gone to a home with two young boys who will no doubt give her a run for her money. Good luck, Deli, I hope you had a good first night with your new family.

Whee! I gotz kids!

On a dog forum I belong to, a poster put up a photo of her new pup (who looks quite a bit like Zuke from our Lucy's litter!) - a pup she obtained from a newspaper ad when she was looking for a Doberman pup. Three months later, she can tell it is no doberman - more like a lab/rat terrier mix. But she loves it and she is very involved with her dogs, so it will have a good forever home. Her post got me thinking, though.

Some of Lucy's litter are now listed on the SPCA website. I chuckled - or to be honest, I groaned - to see them listed as “corgi cross”. There may be some corgi in there somewhere, but the pups like Pumpkin and Hubbard are much more Newfie cross or Mastiff cross than corgi!!!

I'z no corgi - I'z gonna be a GIANT breed! Mah mama's genes sure don't fit ME!

In fact, the only ones that may be corgi-sized as adults are Peanut, Summer, Patty and Acorn. And even that is a “maybe”. Many, like Deli, are more likely to be lab sized.

For those who have been reading this blog for information on the pups, a relative of Lucy’s late owner says Lucy is a corgi-pitti cross (which would be my guess too-- corgi with either rednose pitti or possibly some Rhodesian ridgeback), and there is a good chance the father of the pups was a newfie cross (newfie-pitti, perhaps?) who also lived on the property.

It is also possible there was more than one dad (as often happens in backyard breedings) –those fawn pups with black muzzles look like they have some mastiff or boxer in them somewhere!

Whatever we are, we is 100% CUTE!

So here is the bottom line: the breed identities on both the BC SPCA site and on sites like Petfinder.com , may be misleading and sometimes downright wrong. This is particularly true with pups - young pups often look amazingly similar regardless of breed. These sites are excellent resources when looking for a pet, but searching by breed may mean you miss a dog that would be perfect for you; searching by size is no guarantee that the pup will end up the size you want.

Meet the pup, find out what you can about its history, consider its current age and weight (an eight week old pup who weighs 15 pounds is NOT going to be a small or medium sized dog!), and be prepared for anything. Hopefully by the time you accept the fact that this cute little pup is a hundred and twenty pound fur-covered teenager, you will have spent lots of time teaching good manners, and will love him/her so deeply that you would no sooner get rid of the dog than of your human kids. In fact, if you've done your job as a doggy parent, you might even prefer to get rid of the human kids!

And if you really want to know what size your dog will be as an adult, please consider adopting an adult or senior dog. In fact, consider adopting Lucy - a lovely, lively, cuddly 2-3 year old - um - corgi cross!

Lucy and her litter are currently in foster care and are available for adoption through the Cowichan and District SPCA, pending their spays/neuters.

Morning Reflections on Perfect Solutions

I stand in my back yard, hands encircling my hot cup of coffee, and watch the sun rise over Saltspring Island, turning the waters of Osborne Bay a golden yellow. It is a crisp, frosty morning, the harbinger of the winter mornings to come. The clear sky overhead belies the snow in last night’s weather forecast.

The puppies have been fed and their nighttime mess cleaned up, and the three big dogs are enjoying the sunrise with me. Lucy has the zoomies, tearing around and around the yard like a whippet chasing a lure. Occasionally, she pauses to playbow in front of Sadie who humours her with a game of kissyface or some happy, growly jump-and-bump.

This is the last full day at my home for five of the puppies. Tomorrow, they will make the next step toward finding their families. And a day or two after that, the remaining five will move on, too.

They are truly lucky little pups. Instead of going to the shelter, all ten are moving to Karen’s and Norm’s Puppy Prep School. Okay, I made that name up – but it suits the situation. (Regular readers will know Karen from the Wednesday Walks, and be familiar with her many dogs, especially the passing of Pearl and the loss of Luger). Karen and Norm have fostered literally dozens of pups, and have recently renovated their detached garage into a comfy sitting room/dog room/puppy training room.

There, where Karen and Norm spend much of their time, the puppies will have a cosy place with a dedicated puppy yard, and they will learn to go outside to do their business. They will also receive their first shots, be cared for after their spays/neuters, and be available to meet with approved applicants for adoption. It is a perfect solution which keeps the pups in a home environment and continues with their socialization. Thank you, Karen and Norm, for providing them safe haven.

As I return to the house from my morning reverie, Lucy charges through the door ahead of me and tears off after the cat. The honeymoon is over – Lucy is a two or three year old dog with all the exuberance of youth, the cat is pissed off, and my old girls are not sure what to make of this new, young, joyful dog. Charley opts to stay outside – like me, she enjoys her morning hour of quiet reflection – and Sadie dodges left and right to avoid Lucy’s joyous jumps and playful nudges as we negotiate the hallway back to the kitchen to refill my coffee cup. Allie, the cat, retreats to the top of the fridge, safe from bouncing butternut squashes named Lucy.

Though the pups are leaving, Ms. Lucy will stay with me for a bit longer. Her milk has nearly dried up, and once that is complete she will be spayed. Applications for her adoption will be reviewed, potential adopters will meet her, a homecheck will be done, and the transfer to her forever home arranged - all done with Lucy’s needs at the forefront. She, too, will be kept in a home environment rather than returned to shelter life. Another perfect solution. Well, perfect for Lucy - though I think Allie, Charley and Sadie would disagree.

One creature's perfect solution may be another's challenge. But we've made it this far, and together we'll see Lucy and the pups the rest of the way to their forever homes.


If you, or someone you know, wishes to adopt a pup or to adopt Lucy, can make the 15-20 year commitment required to give a dog a home forever, and can provide excellent training, healthy food, appropriate vet care, and a safe and loving environment for this new family member, please apply to the Cowichan and District SPCA. Lucy and the Butternut Squash Kids will be ready for adoption once they have been spayed/neutered.

Nugget

Nugget in basket

As his name suggests, Nugget is a little gem, a cuddlebug extraordinaire who loves to be picked up, to be cuddled, to sit on my lap or be held in my arms while he licks my neck and nibbles my ears. He comes running when I enter the pen and grabs onto whatever part of me he can - a shoelace, the buttons on my sweater as I squat down to pick up poop, the hem of my pants as I try to walk about. But he's not obnoxious about it - he just wants to be acknowledged and petted and to climb up for a kiss.

Nugget is a light brown (fawn?), short-haired, average size pup with legs that appear to be proportionate to his body. He has absolutely the most adorable markings on his face - jet black muzzle and nose, teeny white tuft on the chin, dark mascara lining his eyes. He also managed to get mascara along the outer edge of his ears, and the underside of his ears have black fur. He has some black down the centre of his back and onto his tail, and he has one white toe on one back paw, plus some white hairs on his chest.

Today, at just over five and a half weeks, he weighs a surprising 8 pounds 9 ounces (though this was right after he inhaled his lunch). By comparison Hubbard and Pumpkin, the largest of the litter, are both 9 pounds 14 ounces after lunch today, and the smallest pup is 6 pounds five. Nugget's compact body, dressed in his sky blue collar, is heavier than it looks - he's a solid little guy.

Nugget is going to be a wonderful companion for someone. Like his mother, he will likely bond closely with his special person. While he is very people-oriented, he also plays well with all his siblings, both initiating play and responding when another pup initiates it. He is good at give and take - backing off when told to, but not fearful or shy. With the right training, food, and affection, he promises to be an outstanding friend.

Nugget

Ohhh, whazzat?

Nugget and Lucy

An armload of luvin'

Sweet face

(Nugget is one of ten pups I am fostering for the Cowichan and District SPCA, also known as the Duncan SPCA. Each is being featured in a seperate blog entry. The pups and their mama, Lucy, will be available for adoption shortly. All applications should go to the Cowichan and District SPCA. More information on Lucy and the pups can be found by reading the past two months' blog entries - starting September 11/2010 for Lucy and October 1/2010 for the pups. If you are considering adopting Lucy, feel free to email me with any questions you have about her personality and behaviour, using the link on the side of this blog. )

Hubbard

Hubba Hubba

Hubbard is a big boy named for a big squash. Today, at five and a half weeks, he weighs 9 pounds 5 ounces. He and Pumpkin vie for top place among the heavy weights -one day Pumpkin is heavier, the next Hubbard.

Hubba Hubba is a brindle boy with longish fluffy fur which appears to have a grayish hue mixed in with the brindle - perhaps foretelling an undercoat. Given his size, he will be a big dog. When I looked at growth charts for various breeds, he and Pumpkin both match the average weight for 5-6 week old Newfoundlander pups or Mastiff pups. They are considerably bigger than their eight littermates.

Like most of his siblings, Hubbard has a black muzzle. He also has a flash of white on his chest, and one white-tipped toe. He has sad, slightly droopy eyes, and his legs appear midlength - neither long and gangly nor short and stubby.

Hubbs is the pup who worries me the most. He is quite lethargic - very occasionally engaging in play but tiring quickly and going off by himself for a nap. He often whimpers after meals, and his heart rate is always very, very rapid compared to his siblings. He will, of course, be checked by a vet when he goes for his neuter. My best guess - though I have no medical training - is a heart murmur. This is not uncommon in dogs and not usually a life threatening situation, but certainly a concern.

Hubbard was mostly nonresponsive to his photoshoot, despite my best efforts to get some lively shots by squeeking toys and whistling - this is fairly typical of Hubbard who prefers to just lie quietly and watch the world go by. He is a sweet, sweet boy.

Hubbard being unimpressed with squeeky toy

Hubbard standing

I don' wanna play, fank you.

Cuddling Hubbard

Hubbard in a Basket

Being Coy

I wouldn't look so sad if ya didn't have a stoopid cat collar on me! Itz even got picshures of catz on it. How embawwasing!

(Hubbard is one of ten pups I am fostering for the Cowichan and District SPCA. Each is being featured in a seperate blog entry. The pups and their mama, Lucy, will be available for adoption shortly. All applications should go to the Cowichan and District SPCA. More information on Lucy and the pups can be found by reading the past two months' blog entries - starting September 11/2010 for Lucy and October 1/2010 for the pups. If you are considering adopting Lucy, feel free to email me with any questions you have about her personality and behaviour, using the link on the side of this blog. )

A little comic relief

I hate the first hour of the morning with the puppies. I am a person who likes to spend my first hour of the day sipping coffee, reflecting quietly on my plans for the day, being totally alone. My own dogs respect this. My guests usually respect this. I don't talk, I don't move around, I just sit.

But with ten pups screaming for attention, and wall-to-wall poop and pee in the pen (in which they pounce and roll), and three adult dogs and a cat getting all excited at the commotion, morning solitude is not an option.

I gingerly step into the pen, trying to avoid the forty paws and ten tails that mob me at the entrance. A pup squeals as my avoidance technique fails - I yell at them to "MOVE OUT THE WAY THEN!!" Patience and positive training are not gonna happen during the first hour of my day.

I hate this. I hate this I hate this I hate this.

I plonk down their food dishes and while they madly gobble up the softened kibble, I try to whip out the soiled newspapers without stepping in the muck myself. To my early morning disgust, one or more of the pups has also soiled liberally in the bed - the bedding is so covered in poop I am going to throw it out rather than wash it. The little bit of early-morning-tolerance I have is fast fading. It vanishes totally when the pups decide they would rather mob me again than finish breakfast, and all of a sudden I have ten little vermin....er puppies...crawling all over me as I try to clean the pen. I shudder.....I can't deal with this.....I want OUT....Pups and mama are going back TODAY......

I give up and race out of the pen. One of the adult dogs has reacted to my stress by pooping all the way down the hallway (they DID all go out and do their business as soon as I crawled out of bed, so I know it was reaction to the environment that caused the accident). My cat is hiding - she is pissed off because usually the first thing I do in the morning is feed her and I forgot. Charley has her head in a corner. I feel terrible.

And then I see Lucy. Lying on the couch Lucy. The cause of all this woe Lucy. And she does this:



And all the stress of the past hour magically evaporates. I head to the computer with my cup of coffee, the pups settle down for another snooze, the cat comes out of hiding and the dogs go back to their customary beds, and all is right with the world. All because of a goofy dog who knew when I needed a silly face to make me smile.

Pumpkin

I'z a party boy!

Pumpkin, aka chunky monkey, weighed over a pound at birth, and at 8 lbs 9 oz today (one day after turning five weeks) is the largest of the pups. He is also the lightest in colour, being almost fawn in appearance. However his light brown colouring is accented with a black muzzle, black ear tips and tail, white tips on three paws and some whitish-grey chest hairs. He appears to have midlength legs - not stubbies like Lucy's, but not long and gangling either. His fur is quite thick and fuzzy compared to several of his siblings, so he may have a midlength coat when mature. He has the potential to be quite a big dog given his current size.

In the pen with his siblings, he is outgoing, rambunctious, a bit of a bully, and has been humping the other pups from the time he was three weeks old. He also likes to bark and growl and pounce around, letting everyone know he is the boss. Pumpkin is also an escape artist, having climbed over the 18" barrier on more than one occasion, and having squeeeeeezed between the end sections of the x-pen on the one occasion I tried putting a few pups out on the grass. He's going to be a handful, and a very big handful at that.

Curiously, when taken away from his siblings for his photoshoot, he became shy and nervous (even though he has come out for cuddles and socialization at least every other day for the past four weeks). Consequently, it was hard to get a picture of him standing tall as he usually does.

I'z shy!

I cud be a soccer player, mehbee???

I likes cuddles

I don't wanna stand up, mama!

I sitz in cosy basket wiv mah new toy!

Peanut

Peanut

Note: For the next week or so, I am going to feature one pup in each blog entry - or most entries, anyway, give or take the occasional diversion. 'Way back when Lucy was pregnant, I commented on her similarity to a butternut squash, and someone commented that we could name all the pups after squashes. I've taken that idea, as well as the suggested squash names readers offered, and I'm somewhat arbitrarily applying a squash name to each pup. Until now, I've avoided naming them as I have a notoriously bad memory for names and figured I'd never be able to remember/identify them anyway. But...for the sake of the blog...I shall give them names. For some good images of squash varieties, check out this link. Like squashes, these pups are truly diverse - as different from each other as acorn squash is from Hubbard squash, reflecting their unknown and very mixed genetic heritage .


Peanut is a little boy who has inherited his mother's short legs. At six pounds four ounces on this his fifth-week-birthday, he is the smallest of the male pups - smaller by only one ounce from the next male pup, but over two pounds smaller than the largest pups. His short fur looks tan in colour , and he sports a black muzzle and tail, light underbelly, and some black hairs on his back. Some of his paws have the slightest hint of white tips.

Peanut is one of the most timid of the pups, but sometimes takes it upon himself to pounce on his brothers and sisters to initiate play. Peanut is wearing a blue collar with white dots and red bones on it, and doesn't mind it in the least.

Peanut sitting

Beautiful face

Doesn't struggle!

Short legs and black tail

And Peanut has this to say:

I luvs my mama

We's good buddies

I weally luvs her...

...even if she won't let me nurse no more!

(Ha ha I sticked my tongue out at her!)

Puppy Poop and Puppy Play

I gots teeth to chomp you wiv!

Yesterday morning, the pups weren't feeling well. Some really gross stuff, which I won't describe in detail lest I challenge your gag reflex, led to a decision to immediately deworm them rather than wait until week five* as is customary at the SPCA. Fortunately, two SPCA volunteers were coming over to puppysit while I went to a couple of appointments (thanks, Ann and Sheila!), so they picked up the Strongid-T dewormer enroute. They also brought along a basket of toys to keep growing pups busy.

The dewormer led to even grosser stuff, not for the faint of heart (or stomach) ....but the upside is that most of the pups are now full of piss and vinegar** instead of worms and mucus. (While I don't ever plan to foster pups again, this past twenty-four hours is certainly something to remember if I am ever even slightly tempted to do so!!!)

And so, now that most are feeling better, they have discovered TOYS...and paper and tarp and wire and clothes and anything else they can get their teeth on to shred, whip, chew, shake, tug, or simply take a nap on.

Here's a few of my favourite pics from this morning:

Is there a way out?

Pup meets rope toy

Boys can too like pink !

A nummy ball

Paper fun

Shake it!!!

Duz you like mah paper hat?

Dog with ball

Footnotes:

* Ninety-five percent of puppies are born with a roundworm infestation. Eggs lie dormant in most healthy adult dogs, but are passed on to the pups in utero and/or through nursing, where they grow in the immature immune system of the newborn pup. Personally, I would recommend deworming at week two or three, before they have a chance to create a serious health risk. Deworming is then repeated every couple of weeks until twelve weeks, then monthly until six months, and annually after that.

**Piss and vinegar: an expression which likely arose in the 1920s or 30s (as it is found in Steinbeck's novel The Grapes of Wrath, 1938) and which means rowdiness, exuberance or enthusiasm, youthful energy. I remember my dad using it when I was sassy and boistrous.

***And a final footnote: One of my appointments was with my doctor, regular follow up on a chronic medical condition. I mentioned to her the stress I was feeling with the foster pups to care for. We both had a good laugh when we discovered that my blood pressure had dropped from 143/90 (high) just before the pups arrived, to 117/70 (very good) - the lowest it has been in over a year! I guess animals really do reduce blood pressure....even ten monster pups and their very needy mama. Sigh.... and I was so hoping the doctor would say, "Whoa, danger, danger, danger....you'll have to send the pups back!!!"