Bad Day by Chi-Ping

The second Sunday in July began like any other; mom looked on the floor in the spare room to see if I had an accident, as we walked to the door. Blondie and I made our rounds inspecting the neighborhood. Lola, Lucky and Robert Redford stayed close to the house waiting to be fed. Blondie and I would be back before the third bowl hit the floor.

Some time later, we were sniffing around up the hill, when we heard mom scream and yell. Before we could get home she came flying, I mean going fast for her down the hill hollering, “Ayuda me!” My ears went back, it scared me. I jumped at her leg as she hurried back to our house. What was happening; I wanted to know. The door slammed in my face, when I tried to walk in with her. What’s wrong with her?

“Kirt,Kirt!,” mom cried, then we ran to the patio outside the bedroom windows. I couldn't hear dad. His scent changed, we knew he was in trouble. Lucky and Red hid in the bushes nearby with wide eyes peering out. Blondie, Lola and I went into guard mode.

A man in a uniform stayed in his car in front of the house. We bounced and barked surrounding the car. “No,” mom commanded in a tone that set us back on our tails. “Hurry, hurry!” she repeated to the man over and over again. Soon other people arrived. Lola and the puppies barked, defending the door. Lucky’s hackles were up like the little boy was seriously defending his home. Lola barked, but I could tell she wasn't too sure about what she was doing. Mom told us, “NO,” before and that was good enough for me and Blondie; we know the woman. What was wrong with dad? His scent lacked vital force.

Mom yelled in Spanish and in English at people in uniforms. We stood ready to protect, but when mom started crying we didn’t know which way to go. We wanted to get in the house to comfort her. Mom and dad’s friends, the dog lover ladies, Alma and Adri arrived. Mom screamed and cried while telling them that the uniformed people wouldn’t help dad.

People from the neighborhood filled the yard and began coming into the house. Blondie, Lucky and I streaked in with some. A uniformed man waived us away from the bedroom with dad, mom, friends and uniformed people. Blondie and I know death when we smell it. Lucky ran outside to hide under the car. The only other death he ever smelled was his sister a couple of weeks ago.

It can’t be dad; he’s the greatest dad in the world. His scent was flat. Mom sobbed, wailing so hard I waited for her to howl, so I could howl with her. The uniforms retreated to the porch for a smoke. Blondie tiptoed into the bedroom, where dad sat slumped over in his wheelchair, ash grey. I stood there looking up at him, when my turn came. No more scratches behind the ears from those hands. No more sweet words from his lips. My tail dropped to the lowest, since the day I was dumped here.  I touched my nose to his leg to fill it with his scent one last time.

Farewell, friend to all, father of the furry kidz and all round great guy,

Clure “Kirt” Carr, July 14, 2013 RIP

We love you,

Chi-Ping, Blondie, Smoki, Lucky, Robert Redford, Lola

And “Mom”

Ligature Marks Found on New Dog

Skinny, mangy with big feet, Lola, the soon to come in heat German Sheppard won us over the first time she cocked her head, when I spoke to her, following instructions sealed the deal. In the evening I walk around the house with the puppies, Lucky and Robert Redford, to get them to potty before going in the bath room for the night. On these excursions I’d admire Lola’s clean trot, but her feet were so big they looked like paddlewheels. Blood oozed from her legs at the pastern/ankle joint in front and hock/foot in the rear. Her feet looked swollen. I attributed it to the mange. She must have been confined to a very small area; she poops and pees right where she stands. Her nails would make Freddy Krueger jealous. A three inch wide collar wore into her neck creating a smelly ulcer.

Three weeks into treatment her hair is coming back. Puppy bucking during a happiness spasm makes her look like a basketball player after winning a big game. She’s old school German Shep in conformation, coloring and temperament, steady, easy to train. So far I’ve seen little of possible head trips from her former life, which amazes me given what I’m about to tell you.

This morning, while I made breakfast, Kirt, my husband sat in his wheel chair staring at Lola. “What do you see?” I asked as I handed him coffee. “This dog has had her feet bound,” was his startling reply.

The new hair growth pronounced the marks across her feet where rope or wire held her tightly enough to leave deep indentations more than three weeks later. I can’t even speculate how long she could have been tied. Under what circumstances do you hog tie a dog? Who does something like this? Does a person feel so sorry for themselves that they spare no empathy for another being? I’m sick to my stomach that this marvelous animal would have been handled like that, and then thrown out. I’m glad they tossed her out rather than continue this torturous treatment.

Kirt and I sat on the porch examining the ligature marks. We don’t do poor baby. We’re rather matter of fact about things, so it surprised me to see that the other dogs were aware of our change in attitude or perception about Lola. Chi-Ping did a double take looking from me to Lola and back to me. Lola, who was lying down got a surprised look on her face, when Chi walked over to her wagging her tail. Chi gave her a lick on the face and walked into the house with me tail still wagging. An hour before Chi-Ping snapped at Lola until she dropped to her belly. That’s how they usually get along.

This gruesome bit of news needed to come from me and not my darling Chi-Ping or Chi-Pi as Lucky likes to call her.

Thanks for reading, Tricia 

Look at Lucky

Look at Lucky rolling around on his back in the grass, just showing his balls to God. That’s right, Old Girl, God gave them to me and will be proud to see how they’re growing. Why, I lifted my leg when I peed this morning. God will be delighted with my early progress. Lucky gave the toothy grin he impresses Blondie and Chi-Ping with when they hassle him. Chi barked from the porch. You’re not fooling anyone with a submissive smile. Lucky slithered side to side like a snake, and then suddenly thrust his hips in the air. Soon, I’ll be putting this equipment to use.

Chi-Ping’s eyes bulged. You’re not but a minute old. Do you think the grownup machos are going to let you at any lady? I’m a pi-bull, Chi-Pi old girl. Lucky sat erect, arched his neck displaying an already strong male profile. You bad little puppy, Chi-Ping barely barked out, as she play bowed to him.  Not so little any more, I’m bigger than you. Chi-Ping barked threats. Cute or not, I’ll put some holes in you.

Blondie and I are the house dogs, we rule. Not the way I see it, Lucky proclaimed. You and Blondie spent all day at the neighbor’s house or in the street. Robert Redford and I go in the house, during the day, when you’re gone. We get treats and gravy on our kibble. Yesterday I slept in the bedroom while mom worked on the computer for three hours. I didn't have an accident in the house, the way some do. Go ahead Chi-Pi get in my face, growl, show your teeth; it’s only a matter of time until mom likes us best.

I hate smart-alecky puppies. Chi-Ping grrred. 

Meet Lola by Chi-Ping

Look, Lola’s eyes don’t have a yucky discharge today. They’re clear, not sicky looking. She sniffed me just as I came out the door this morning. Her nose has been grey, dry and cracked, but today it’s black, cold and moist. As mom would say, “Saints be praised.” Don’t ask me, I don’t understand it. Why she would praise a football team when good stuff happens I’ll never know, but she does all the time. Frankly, you humans are a mystifying lot.

I hot foot it down to Geri’s to see what’s happening/ que pasa, but then mom was playing good morning with Lucky, Robert Redford and Lola, while the coffee brewed. Hold on I’m coming to join the game. You can’t play good morning without me. With the game already in progress I raced around the porch with my butt tucked well under me to cut corners. Mom loves it when I do that. I’m the center of attention with mom yelling woo-hoo,woo-woo. The critters in awe of my speed looked on, while my tail curved like a c to the left as I skittered the corner with toe nails grabbing, and then that stupid Robert Redford pounced on me. I flipped that impudent red dog on his back so fast, as I grabbed his throat mom told me to go easy, be a good girl. She just doesn't understand that I must teach him respect now, while I can. This mutt is going to be three times my size or more, easy my well rounded behind.

     Blondie went straight to the street, when the door opened. She lived here as a street dog for so many years sometimes she doesn't remember where she lives. We love the neighbors. They've been good to us. This is the face of trap, neuter and release whether mom likes it or not, this is what we’re going to do.

After a light breakfast I joined Blondie for a trek up the road. People are staying in the house where the old farmer lived. Sometimes they bring a pit bull male, we must check out all activity close to home. The yellow lab we chased off a couple of weeks ago is still hanging out near the vacant house where the little girl Eileen used to live before her mother got cancer. The satos on the peak raised hell last night so we took the long road to visit Blondie’s cousins.

Thirst drove me home. Ours is the only place with a fresh bowl of water waiting all day long. My tongue was hanging way out when we get to the bend in the road above where we live, but not a puddle in sight. Blondie dawdled sniffing some darn thing. Intruder alert, the barking comes from the house; I’m coming slowly, carrying my head low to take some weight off my tired butt. I didn’t see Lola and Lucky crouched, stalking me from the top of the drive until Lucky barked a threat. Being a resident I told them how not funny I found this behavior, but they maintained the crouch, so I stopped to assess the situation, when Blondie came along side me, then Lola and Lucky dropped low and gave us the little tail wags of one who has done wrong and is sorry.  We paused briefly to accept the apology before getting a drink.

Neither Blondie nor I could get over Lola and Lucky giving us a threat display. We decided to spend the day on the porch with mom and dad.

Once a Street Dog by Chi-Ping

No new dogs dropped off here for about a week. Blondie won’t relax her vigilance. She’s down in the street all day, every day prepared to let people know we don’t want any more discarded dogs here. She lies in the street. Mom calls her, but she doesn't even look.

Lola and the puppies, Lucky and Robert Redford have taken over our porch. The silly things play with toys. Every step we take we’re bumping into things that rattle or squeak. Blondie and I don’t like the puppies, but Blondie hates Lola, who is larger. Blondie lived here as a street dog for five years, so she’s ready to do it again, if mom wants to keep all these satos.

Yesterday she refused to come up to the house in the rain. I've never seen Blondie this way before. She isn't too good at sharing I know, but to walk away from a loving home is drastic even for that loca hembra.(female)

Poppy called to her at dinner time. She looked up but didn't budge. The neighbors are so charmed that she stays down by them, they fed her leftovers. Shit, I came running down for that. Mom has asked them not to feed us. She says it encourages us to be in the street. Yes, it does. I don’t know why, but it bothers her. She says they don’t want us. Well, I’m confused; why do they feed us?

Mom played games with the new dogs. She kicked the toys around so they’d chase them, pretty lame. She taught them to sit for treats. I like that game, so I came up to play. I know when she’s laughing something good happens, but Blondie just blew it off. Her behavior is strange because I know how much she loves mom.

After the sun set mom picked up and swept the porch like she does every evening. She walked around the house to get the boys to potty before they go into the bathroom for the night. That’s a good idea; I've been doing my business before I go in. We don’t have problems with each other that way. The whole time Blondie stayed in the street by the neighbor’s house. I went in with the boys, who head to their room. Just when mom went to close the front door, there was Blondie standing there waiting to come in. I know mom’s been upset with Blondie, so I stood on the sofa waiting to see if she would let her in or not. Blondie doesn’t like to be out at night any more than I do. Mom opened the door for her, but said nothing. That’s unusual for mom, she talks a lot. Blondie jumped on the sofa. As for me, I’m off to bed with my mom.