Remembering: Star

Star. You were the first dog that Steven and I brought into our life together. The first dog I owned after the devastating loss of my childhood best friend.

You had a lot to live up to and did it admirably. The accidental result of the neighbor's Dachshund getting in with a family friend's Chihuahua.

I knew when I saw you as a baby that I wanted you.

You were a fun loving pup that went to work with me, and consequentially, loved everyone you met.

You had intelligence unrivaled by any other member of our pack. We taught you fun tricks like high-five, roll over, and trained you to pick out a hidden treat from closed hands. All crowd-pleasers and fun to show off.

While you never had pups of your own, you had a maternal side, although it wasn't aimed at your own species. You much preferred to mother kittens, even going so far as to steal kittens from foster cats we had. I often had to retrieve a kitten and return it to its disgruntled mother.

You had a great desire for milk - anytime Steven would have a glass of milk you would beg shamefully, and he would always oblidge, despite my protests.

While you were not a huge fan of the additions we made to our pack, you tolerated them with good will and we even caught you playing with the others from time to time. However, your favorite game was catch, and when we asked if you were "ready" you would respond with an enthusiastic bark.

You could always be found hidden beneath the blankets, snug and warm. Your favorite spot was in between Steven and I, the prime spot as befits the eldest of our pack.

You were seven years old when you were taken from us and each and every year was worth it. I will miss you and your stoic loyalty for the rest of my life.

Goodbye, Star.

The Fire

It's taken me a little time to get to this, but I do want to write out the entire event for everyone. Writing has always been rather soothing for me.

On the 20th of December, the day started as normal. I was picked up by my boss to head to work and Steven had already left. I spent the day trimming hooves and around 6pm, Steven arrived to pick me up and we headed home.

About halfway home, I received a chilling phone call from a neighbor. Our house was on fire. My heart stopped. I cannot even begin to explain the feeling. I was shaking but trying very hard to hold it together, warning Steven to not drive too fast, that speeding and possibly crashing would not help the situation.

I knew, even before we arrived, that the house would go up quickly. Living out where we did, there are no fire hydrants and the roads are so bad, the Fire Department's trucks could barely get down them. I was terrified that my brother, who was home alone and often sleeps during the day (as we all do) would be injured or even worse. I was scared to death for my dogs, locked in my bedroom, and for Spyder, locked directly behind the house.

We turned the corner on our road and we could see it, blazing a bright light in the darkness. My stomach turned over and it took extreme effort to keep it down. We pulled up across the street and I rushed out, seeking a fire fighter to ask them about my brother, my dogs, and Spyder.

My brother turned up then, hair singed but alive. He was crying and begged for my forgiveness, but all I could do was hold him.

The entire house was engulfed.

According to my brother, he was watching television in the game room when he noticed a smell. The neighbors often times burn trash, so he didn't think too much of it until the entire house electrical made an audible pop. He got up and went to our room, and when he opened the door, the window blew out and he was confronted with a horrifying sight, everyone's worst nightmare. He froze for an instant, then rushed inside, trying to find the dogs, but was forced back by the heat, which singed his hair.

He got out, and Junebug, our Boxer, preceded him. He lost sight of her as he ran around to the back of the house. He opened the gate and Spyder left the airlock calmly amid flying embers, at least one of which had burned him, and joined the other two horses.

From there he waited with neighbors as the fire department arrived and then we pulled up.

I told him clearly, this was NOT his fault, and he did everything he could, and that getting out was the best thing for him. I, all of us really, were in shock and could do little more than give reports to the police, fire department, and ambulance, and sit there.

I called a neighbor we are good friends with and he came down, offering us a place to stay for the night. I called my boss, and my best friend, who spread the word online about our devastation.

We sat and watched it burn for some time, then drove to the neighbors, unable to stomach the sight anymore. More neighbors and friends were waiting there and gathered us up, offering us food and alcohol to calm our nerves. They set up a place for us to sleep and we retired, sick at heart. I spent the entire night in tears, head aching and stomach in knots, and rose early in the morning, waking my husband and brother. The neighbor fed us breakfast, and then we went back to look at the house.

A total loss. There was literally nothing left of our life. Only what we had in the truck and the clothes we were wearing. I could not bear to look inside, but Steven did. He brought out Pixie and Ellie, who were far enough from the fire to have not been totally burned, and we buried them underneath the oak tree side by side. Of the other dogs, no sign was found, but they had been sleeping where the fire started and was hottest.

We called for Junebug, to no avail. Our horses had escaped in the night, but kind neighbors had rounded them up. I went over and talked to them for a bit and checked the horses, who had some scrapes and burns, but were fine. My boss showed up to see us and take a look, and as I was walking back to the house, Steven appeared with one of our cats, Mr Gibbs, clutched to his chest. He was shaking badly, but unharmed, and I placed him safely in my boss' vehicle to be taken to her home.

I spent some time talking to several other people, and after speaking to my best friend, began to get an idea of what was going on online. People everywhere were stepping up, donating funds and items, asking for our information. It almost came as a shock - I did not expect anything from anyone, all I wanted was good thoughts. I was not afraid of being homeless - our boss offered us their spare bedroom and our new house on their farm would be finished soon enough. Material possessions, although painful to lose, because much of it had meaning, could eventually be replaced with new possessions with new stories behind them. I avoided, and honestly, am still avoiding, any thought of the lives lost in the fire.

I had to stay strong, for my husband, for my brother. I needed to keep my head up and take control - they depend on me to keep everything running smoothly, even in the face of adversity, so I did my best.

A reporter arrived and we spent some time with her, then returned to my neighbor's home where I was able to use the computer and see JUST how much people were stepping up. There are no words at all to explain the feelings I had, watching the posts come in, the offers, the good will and kind thoughts and jingles. It overwhelmed and humbled me.

That evening, we gathered the horses up with ropes and borrowed halters and walked them to a spot where another good friend pulled up her horse trailer. All three, even Apple who has not been loaded since the day I bought her, got on and rode fine to their new home, where they were let loose in the pasture to graze and relax. I had a lot of worry about Spyder, who has suffered from stress stomach aches, but he did just fine.

I did manage to sleep that night, and we spent the next day with even MORE amazing friends who came to help us with our new home. They got an amazing amount of work done (and are returning today!)

Donations were brought, and being mailed. Funds for new furniture and other things are deposited in my Paypal. It was astonishing to watch it unfold.

Even now, things are unreal and numb, but we continue to move forward. My husband stopped on his way home from work last night, around 10:30pm, and was calling for our possibly only surviving dog, Junebug, when he heard a meow. He found our other cat, Snickers, huddled in what was left of our bedroom. Her whiskers were singed and her fur burnt, but she came out to him and he placed her in the truck and called me.

I woke up this morning very blessed. My husband well, my two cats sleeping beside us, and friends and family all over the world wishing us good thoughts. I will continue to stay as busy as I can. I know that there will come a time when I will have to, need to, sit down and grieve for what was lost, but for now, it's forward into a new age.

Bless all of you, and thank you, and have a wonderful Holiday, whichever you celebrate, and if you celebrate none, have a wonderful week!

Dog Ribbons?

What the hell is this nonsense?

Personally I find this ridiculous! Our society has de-evolved so much we cannot even respect another person's space and property (dogs are technically property) without some kind of visual REMINDER like a ribbon.

Because goodness forbid now days that parents teach their kids that it's impolite and DANGEROUS to rush a strange dog without the owner's permission, right? Or even know this lesson themselves.

I can't count the number of times I've had both children AND adults rush my pets when I've had them out and about. It's a darn good thing all of my pets are heavily socialized and eager to meet new people (with the exception of our Boxer), but it could be such a dangerous situation.

On a related note, why is it so hard to keep your own pet under control? Your dog should *not* be rushing out at me when I am walking my own dog. No yellow ribbon is going to stop that! And for owners who allow their dog to drag them into the space or another dog or pet, well, there's a special place in my mind for you!

If you're going to take the responsibility of another living creature, then it's YOUR job to have control and to teach him or her proper etiquette on meeting other animals.

One Lucky Dog, One Stupid Owner

Talk about one lucky dog.

"The dog survived being wedged into the front grille of a car while the driver drove through two states.

"When I went to pull her out realized part of the reason she was stuck was because she was gripping her paws around the inside of the bumper holding on for dear life," said East Providence Animal Control Officer William Muggle.

The ordeal started ten days ago on Route 44 in Taunton, Massachusetts.

A driver said he saw the dog running in the road.

The driver hit the brakes, then tried to avoid hitting the dog, and thought he had.

When he looked around the car he didn't see the dog anywhere.

Unknown to the driver, the dog was wedged into the front of the car.

"The gentleman then kept driving, through four towns, some 11 miles before he was finally stopped at an intersection and someone spotted the dog," said Muggle.

The intersection was in East Providence.

He immediately drove to the police station, where animal control had her checked out.

After a one night hospital stay they say she's fine."

That's a pretty cool story, right?

Until you read the follow up about the owner.

Suzie, the poodle mix that was hit by a car and driven for 11 miles wedged in the front of the vehicle, is happy to be home. But her owners are taking steps to ensure a similar incident doesn’t happen again. 

Suzie was injured but is now “back to her usual self,” owner says. (East Providence Animal Control Center)

“She was gone and I couldn’t find her anywhere,” said Suzie’s owner, Peter, who did not want his last name published. “They do move fast.”

Peter had let the 6-year-old poodle mix out in the backyard of his Dighton home on Sept. 20. He said he got distracted a bit and when he went to let Suzie back in, she was nowhere to be found.

“She dug a hole up under the fence,” he said in a telephone interview. “She digs from time to time. She’s dug out once before and got out.”

He contacted animal control services in Dighton and Rehoboth the next day but heard nothing until a friend of his saw Suzie on the 11 o’clock news, Peter said.

He went to the East Providence Animal Control Center to pick Suzie up and said she was very excited to see him.

Wait a minute? This darling poodle cross has dug out of your yard before? And instead of taking measures to prevent a tragedy *before* it happens, you allow it to continue to happen again and again, until the dog manages to hitch herself a ride?

These owners are damned lucky the dog is not dead.

Look people - animals are your responsibility. That includes having a safe place for them to live. It's YOUR responsibility to make sure your animal cannot escape his or her enclosure, both for their safety and for the safety of the public.

The owner says they are making adjustments to their home, including,

“My kids are going to walk her,” he said. 

He also plans to set up a dog run using a long leash and clothesline so that Suzie can dig all she wants without escaping the yard.

Gee, nice. And even then, I wouldn't mind so much except for...

He asked that Suzie’s fans donate to the East Providence Animal Control Center to help defray the cost of her vet bills.

Are you fucking kidding me? YOUR dog got out of YOUR yard and was hit because of YOU. No one should be paying for this animal's medical bills except YOU. Take responsibility for your actions, for fuck's sake! If you can't afford to pay for it, then it's time for your little dog to go to a home that can actually care for her.

It only takes a second folks - my dear employer hit a dog last weekend. It ran right out in front of us from it's home right on the highway. Instantly killed. Is it really that hard to ensure that your pet is contained and unable to run out into the road, ending his life, breaking your heart, and upsetting the poor folks who had the misfortune of hitting your pet?

Exploiting a Wild Animal - Disgusting!

What the fuck is this??

What kind of reptile keeper is this guy? It's one thing to have an attraction where people can come and observe a reptile such as an alligator in it's habitat, or even get to see it eat, but this is revolting.

Wild animals are not here for our entertainment. Education, yes. Entertainment, no. That puts zoos and marine parks such as Sea World on a fine line of course - some would call a zoo entertainment and there is no doubt that Sea World's shows *are* entertainment, but Sea World and most zoos also play a huge part in education and conservation of those species.

This on the other hand, is infuriating. Let's tape closed the mouth of a prehistoric predator and dump it into a chemical filled swimming pool, to be harassed by humans who know no better. The keeper *should* know better! Why not bring some animals to a party - let the children see them, perhaps even pet them, and *learn* about the animals.

Not play Marco Polo with it.

Disgusting.

One Of Our Own?

Those of us who spend a large amount of time online - forums, chat rooms, Facebook, often grow to "know" other people even though we have never met them.

We read their posts, see pictures of their animals, learn about them.

That's why it can come as a massive shock when we hear that one of our "own" has had their animals seized for cruelty or neglect.


This has happened recently. While I did not "know" this person except by her posts, it came as quite a surprise to suddenly be informed that her entire herd of breeding cow ponies were seized due to neglect.

As it often happens in this situation, those of us who heard about it first immediately jumped to her defense. Surely this was not true - there is some excuse for whatever reason the county and sheriff came up with the seize the animals. We'd seen pictures of her happy healthy horses many times. How could it have fallen apart so quickly?

Then the evidence began to surface. Horses with bad feet, a horse that had to be euthanized, among others. I will say that in this case, most of the offender's horses were in okay shape. But there was enough neglect to justify the seizure. Should the county wait until all of the horses are lame from overgrown hooves and thin before taking action?

What I find more concerning though, to be honest, is the rescue that has taken the horses. Pictures from their Facebook wall show large dirty dry lots, where hay is thrown onto the ground and buried in manure and mud. Adoption pictures of one mare show her ribby and rough looking despite being there for a month - plenty of time to put on healthy weight and a shiny coat with a *good* health regimen.

The rescue has already approached people begging for donations of hay and posts. How can they possibly handle taking on over 30 more horses?

To me, this entire situation smells like rotten fish.

It's interesting how quickly things can roll out of control, especially when you have such a large herd of animals. And it's interesting that sometimes animals seized by the county end up "out of the frying pan and into the fire."

A sad situation all around.

Dominant Traits in Goats

A lot of people know some goats are born polled (hornless) and some are born with blue eyes. But SO many people don't quite understand how this works!

I'm going to use "X" to denote both polled and blue eyes, because they are both a dominant trait, and interchangeable for the sake of this bit of a genetics lesson.

Let's say you have a doe who exhibits X and a buck who doesn't. You breed them.

Xx stands for the doe. This means she exhibits the trait (ie blue eyes). xx stands for the buck. He does not exhibit the trait.

If you breed Xx with xx, because it is a DOMINANT trait, and not recessive, you stand to get:

50% Xx
50% xx

In clearer terms, each kid has half a chance of exhibiting the blue eyes. Each kid also has half a chance of having plain eyes.

Now, you breed a Xx with a Xx. Two blue eyed goats.

This means you get 100% blue eyes right?

Wrong.

Because this is a dominant trait, both goats most LIKELY carry the brown eyed/horned gene as well. This means you get:

50% Xx
25% XX
25% xx

But wait, what does this mean? There's three results.

Xx is obviously a blue eyed kid. xx is a brown eyed kid. So what is XX?

XX is a homozygous blue eyed kid. The homozygous means that it carries two copies of the blue eyed gene. This means if you breed a homozygous goat, all of its offspring will have blue eyes.

Now, I am not 100% certain homozygous blue eyed/polled goats exist. They should. Doesn't mean they do.

Confused yet? It's okay, it just takes some practice.

But let me get some things straight.

Your goat cannot CARRY the polled or blue eyed gene without exhibiting it. There is NO non-visual heterozygous for these traits, because they are dominant.

If you breed a blue eyed/polled goat to a blue eyed goat/polled goat, you can STILL get brown eyed/horned kids. You're more likely to get what you're seeking, but each kid still has that chance of the draw.

Hope this helps. I've seen one too many comments about "carrying" such and such gene or "guaranteed to have such and such gene kids."