Bodacious Boomer

Annie at the puppy mill

Three months ago or so Evelyn adopted Annie, an Australian Cattle Dog. Annie was a rescue. She had endured a harsh existence prior to being rescued. It was thought that she’d had at least 10 litters of pups in her short life already. She had lived most of her life in a 55 gal.drum either in it, or chained to it, for 4 years. Her only protection from inclement weather was the barrel itself and if the storm happened to come from the direction in which the opening was facing that was just too bad for her. No one knows just what she went through- snow, sleet, rain. It was horrific. Initially Annie went to a foster home for ACDs (Australian Cattle Dogs) to be assessed and try to regain her health. Please read on, things get better.

Annie was kinda shy when she first arrived at Evelyn’s house. She wouldn’t go outside to potty alone, instead having to have someone next to her at all times. She didn’t know how to play, didn’t understand it. Annie couldn’t have gone to a better mom. Evelyn sat on the floor with her for extended periods teaching her to play and eventually Annie learned how. Now she loves it. Evelyn said she wanted a “velcro dog”. Well she got that in spades. Annie follows her everywhere she goes, even into the bathroom. If Evelyn had a pouch, Annie would happily climb in, all 45 lbs. of her.

Thanksgiving was Annie’s first big holiday. She really made the most of it. Tuesday afternoon I went over to Annie’s. Her mom and I started getting things ready for Thanksgiving. The first batch of zucchini bread was no bueno. The somewhat briquettish loaves were left out on the kitchen table while we were in the den. Thirty minutes later we didn’t see Annie. Where was she? She was hiding in the corner of the dining room eating overcooked zucchini bread like she was going to the chair. (She had downed two loaves before we found her). The next day I looked away for a second and she snitched a fry off my plate. A pattern was starting to emerge.

I roasted acorn squash for Thanksgiving dinner and Annie really enjoyed it when I offered her a little. She was on her best behaviour that day. However, she made up for it yesterday. After turkey dinner all the desserts were put on the kitchen table. It was quite a spread with three pies, brownies, vanilla ice cream and some of my coconut cupcakes from the day before. People were in the living room, the craft room, the bathroom. No one was still in the kitchen, or so we thought. A sneaky Australian cattle dog named Annie had quietly gone back to the kitchen. The next thing I heard was “ANNIE!- GET DOWN”! When I got to the kitchen I discovered that Annie had wolfed down two of the Barefoot Contessa’s coconut cupcakes and also had sunk her choppers into the apple-cranberry pie.

Annie was stricken with remorse after being chastised; or so we thought. We were wrong. Annie should go to Hollywood. That girl dog can act! She waited til the house was quiet with everyone in bed, then commando Annie sneaked back into the kitchen for one last mission. This time she went for the big score, raiding the overstuffed trash can itself. Now in all the time prior to Thanksgiving week, Annie had been really good, never filching food she wasn’t given or raiding the trash. Evelyn couldn’t be exactly sure of everything that Annie actually ate last night in her midnight raid. However one thing she knows for sure. A picked-clean turkey carcass was on the couch this morning and Evelyn was sure she didn’t leave one there before going to bed.

She can't believe she ate the whole thing.

What else did Evelyn find this morning? A very happy, but very bloated, Australian cattle dog named Annie laying on the couch. Annie hadn’t thrown up.  I found that amazing. What was also amazing what the prodigious amount of poop left in the den by only one dog.  Rememebr the old Alka-Seltzer ad- I can’t believe I ate the whole thing? I betcha Annie felt just like that late last night. Evelyn and I are taking Annie to dog park today so we can all start working off some of our holiday calories. We may be there an incredibly long time.

The good news is Annie doesn’t seem to have suffered any dire consequences from her excesses. The bad news is (for her) is that from now on the louvered doors to the kitchen will be kept closed. All good things come to an end eventually.

Apparently the story of Nubs has been out since last year. I hadn’t heard it before and the story is just so heartwarming that I just have to share it. (You know I’m always the last to hear about anything). Major Brian Dennis and his fellow Marines befriended an Iraqi dog whose ears had been cut off when he was a pup. He named him “Nubs”. Over a period of months his unit became close to the stray, even nursing him back to health after they discovered he’d been stabbed with a screwdriver.

One day Major Dennis received orders that his unit was to relocate. According to regs the Marines would not be able to keep Nubs so they watched as he ran alongside the Hummers as they pulled away. Two days later, in 18 degree weather, Nubs showed up at their new camp.  They said he looked as if he’d been in a war. Nubs had traveled 70 miles through the desert to find his old friends. The Marines then decided that Nubs deserved to stay and have a better life, even building him a doghouse. Eventually the Benita of the unit ratted them out and the M.P.’s showed up saying that Nubs had to go within four days or be shot. Brian Dennis and his friends launched an internet campaign and raised the money needed to get Nubs to the U.S.

Skip to the happy ending- Nubs now lives in Southern California with Brian Dennis. The story of their friendship and unique bond is documented in the book Nubs: The true story of a Mutt, a Marine & a Miracle.

A salesman knocked on my door last week. (Which is unusual these days since door-to-door salesmen are going the way of the dodo.) Long ago they were pretty common-the Avon lady, the Fuller brush man, etc. When he knocked, eight dogs, weighing a total of 330 lbs, ran to the door, barking like mad. Molly, aka Molly the bull, literally slammed into the door, all 85 lbs. of her. Next was Charlie Brown, aka The Beast. By the time I cracked the door open enough to ask what he wanted all eight were at the door, doing their best Cujo imitations. I have to hand it to him, he hung in there. (I would’ve left as soon as I heard Molly hit the door). The guy was holding  a brochure about alarm systems. He looked at me through the barely opened door and yelled “I guess you don’t need one.” Now usually I only have 6 dogs here, but that day, I also had Simba and Charlie Brown with me.

Two and a half years ago at Evelyn’s house one afternoon when her garage door had been left open. She went back out to close it what was there? a puppy! Evelyn wasn’t looking to get another dog, much less a puppy. However Amanda and Nate were living with her at the time and decided that the puppy would stay and become theirs unless his owner could be found. He was a small, cute, round, bundle of fur of about 6 lbs.. A week later with no owner to be found, the vet predicted he would grow to be about 35 lbs- a nice, manageable size.  (I wondered about that estimate since his paws were huge.)

Charlie Brown and his folks moved into our garage apartment when he was about 1 yr. old. By then, he’d graduated from obedience school. (Not that I could tell much of a difference.) When he came to live here he was a big, oafy little kid of a dog whose four legs seemed to have a mind of their own with no two ever going the same direction. By now he’d been nicknamed “The Beast.” Nothing in the house was safe. Every time I looked around, he’d grown bigger.  He’s so tall by now that he can rest his chin on the dining room table; his body so long he looks like one of those city buses that has a pleated extension in the middle.

A few months ago Nate and Amanda moved into their own home. One day they made the mistake of  underestimating just how tall  he was. Charlie Brown got an entire bottle of fish oil capsules off the counter while his parents were out. Apparently he had quite the picnic eating all 150 capsules. (Thankfully, they weren’t toxic.) However, that’s not to say there were no consequences. Big hound dog+150 fish oil capsules+white carpeting=an ugly situation. As bad as the carpet situation was, there was something worse to come. The smell of fish oil emanated from Charlie Brown for weeks. That smell permeated everything he came into contact with. They had to clean, then re-clean everything. Then do it all again. When he entered the room, you knew it. I still gave him hugs. (However, the days when I couldn’t get right home to change clothes I regretted it). Since he doesn’t live with me anymore though I could just sit back and laugh. I did that a lot. Sometimes being grandma is fun. today’s trivia answer- 1/2 oz.

Charlie Brown is ginormous

For those that know me or have been reading the blog for awhile might remember a really sad entry on July 14th. I went to the vet with Evelyn when she had to have her Australian Cattle Dog, Swirley put down. It was a really awful time, but one that almost all of us that have pets have to face from time to time. It’s been almost two months now and I have much happier news. Once again there are a set of puppy dog paws clicking around on Evelyn’s Pergo floor.

A volunteer from Texas Cattle Dog Rescue brought Annie to her new home last Sunday. Annie and 507 other dogs were rescued from a puppy mill that was closed down. According to the vet, Annie had two litters of puppies a year for the last five years. Annie could use a boob lift. Something I an relate to. (Perhaps I can find a BOGO for us). She had been living in a plastic 55 gal. drum that had a hole cut in the side of it. (She couldn’t even completely stretch out her legs while she was in the drum). There was a 3′ rope attached so she could get out to potty but couldn’t run away. She had mange and had to have 80 stitches when she was rescued. I think people who run puppy mills should just be shot- no trial, no nothing.

Evelyn kept Annie to herself the whole first day, just wanting time alone to bond with her. Annie was friendly but not playful. She didn’t know how to play- She’d never been allowed to play. Yesterday, we all went over to Evelyn’s for dinner- but I went mainly to meet Annie. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’d never really been around a dog that had come from such horrific circumstances.  When I entered the house Annie came to greet me. I called her Annie and Sweet Pea. She came to the couch with me and lifted her paw so I could rub her tummy.

After dinner, Evelyn got down on the floor with her to try to teach her to play. Within 10 minutes Annie was racing around the room. She ran over the top of all of everybody on the couch to get back to her mom more quickly.  Annie and Evelyn played hard for at least 10 minutes. Then Annie laid down near Evelyn’s feet and zonked out. (I think I saw a smile on Annie’s face while she slept). She’s going to be just fine, better than fine actually. She’s a very lucky girl dog now. If you’re going to get a new pet, please think about a rescue. They are great; I have 6 now, and they’re always grateful for a second chance at life. Today’s trivia answer: 3,000

Here are two great links to help animals, and it doesn’t cost you a thing. All you have to do is click on them each day and food is provided to an animal in a shelter. You can click to help cats too. http://www.freekibble.com and http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com

Yesterday I was awakened early by a call. My friend Evelyn called and told Doug “it was time.” No more had to be said. I knew what that meant. We got dressed and headed over to her house. On the way I told Doug I’d rather get a bone set or tooth pulled without anesthetic than do this. However, I knew I had to go. I wanted to be there.

We were going to be with Swirley. Time to be with her before and then while she was “put to sleep.” When we got there Evelyn was in bad shape. She said Swirley had had a good day before but the night was just awful. This was not a total surprise. Swirley had been diagnosed with Cushing’s about a month ago and the bad times were now more frequent than the good ones. She had developed diabetes about a year ago. That had been under control. It was hard the past year not to give her sweet treats, but we did it. We wanted her around.

She was a great girl dog. She was extremely timid when I met her the first time. She had been rescued from an area that had been hit by a tornado. Evelyn told me before I met her that Swirley didn’t like men very much. When Doug first came into the house Swirley stayed far away and wouldn’t come anywhere near him. Over time she warmed to him and they became close. When she was happy she’d make these yipping sounds. Evelyn called it “monkey talk.”

Since I do dog rescue I have known a lot of dogs.  However, I had never known an Australian Cattle Dog before. They are really cool. Sometimes in the yard she would look like she was just waiting for the photographer to snap her photo for a calender. “Is this my best side?”

By the time we got to the house yesterday her bad episode from the night before had finally stopped.  When we got there I sat on the floor and gave her a big hug then sat and stroked her back for a few minutes. Then her feast began. Swirley had 2 sausage kohlaches, lots of Pupperonis and two doughnuts. (The last one she got out of the box herself- it had cherry icing and sprinkles.) How good can it get? To finish her feast she had a bowl of beef bourginon.

Everyone enjoyed seeing her eat with such gusto all the foods that had been forbidden. Then Evelyn said it was time to go. The trip to the vet was quiet. After arriving  all the necessary papers were signed and Swirley was taken to the back. Then we were taken back to be with her. She loved her vet and had been there many times before so she wasn’t stressed at all. Dr. Slomer came with the injection. She was crying as well. I’ve never seen that in my life. It was touching.

In just over a minute it was over. Swirley was gone and on to the Rainbow Bridge. I hated to see her go. I understand it was time but I hated it none the less. I spent the rest of the day with Evelyn trying to keep her propped up, so to speak, and not to cry again myself.

Thinking about it now I realize that yesterday went about as well as it could have. The last hour before she was surrounded by everyone who loved her. We got to say goodbye and she had the feast of her life. Her last minutes were peaceful with her loved ones hands on her. We should all be so lucky. She was one fantastic girl dog and will never be forgotten.