I love animals with a passion! My heart especially
goes out to those in distress. A friend and I started up a safe haven for
neglected, abused and abandoned animals. It was so stressful to see the
condition of many of these poor creatures and with the food, vet bills, etc. it
was also a drain on the finances. Many of them needed to be put to sleep and out
of their misery due to the severity of their condition. We took in everything
from neglected exotic birds, cats, unwanted kittens, dogs to various types of
rodents. It's horrifying to see how so many people buy an animal because they
actually want an exotic room ornament. When they find out that this
expensive ornament is noisy and messy they become frustrated and isolate it in a
room by itself, or they abandon them outside.
It was my first, but not last visit to a puppy mill
and I was taken back at even the parts I was 'allowed' to see. I gave the farmer
the impression I wanted to get my son an animal for his 6th birthday, but not
sure of what kind yet, so he gave me some leeway to browse around. When the old
man went into the house, I snuck around and peeked into boarded window huts.
Through the cracks of the boards, I could see it was crammed with dogs. Feces
and dogs all in a small closed up shed. To my horror, there was an rusted out
old car with a dead bear in it The kittens roaming the area, much to my
surprise, were amazingly friendly and affectionate...and there were so many of
them. A closer look and you could see they were totally flea infested.
But the puppy mill didn't only have puppies. There
were farm animals, such as sheep, goats and a few scrawny swayback horses.
The farmer also told me he had pedigree kittens in the far barn, if I was
interested. Nearing the back of the house was closed up crates with raccoons
inside. When I asked the farmer why he kept wild critters too, he told me a man
would buy them off him as he just happened to love the taste of them. I almost
chucked my cookies. It was at that point that I told the farmer I wanted to buy
my son a raccoon for his birthday, but instead he told me he would just give me
one and to wish my son a happy birthday for him. I would have almost liked the
old man, if what I had seen didn't appall me so much. As I was putting the
raccoon into the van, I snuck a few kittens that had jumped into the van too.
We had a vet that gave us discounts because of what
we were trying to do and I took the kittens in to have them checked out. All of
them had a highly contagious respiratory disease and needed to be put down. I
was down hearted as rather than saving the animals, they were being put down
instead. The vet explained that they would have died a horrible painful death
hadn't I have brought them in. It still broke my heart regardless and once I got
home and set up a place for the raccoon, I called the Humane Society, Animal
Care and the Wildlife Ministry. They all knew about this farmer and were trying
to shut him down for years, but he was just barely within the limits to what he
needed to be. They had to give him fair warning as to when they were coming to
inspect his premises and the old man knew to what degree he had to keep the
animals on their visits. They were as frustrated as I was and sadly they said
that since the man was so elderly, they basically had to wait for his death to
get in there and save the animals. I felt awful inside as I wished that to be
soon. The Wild Life organization told me how to house the raccoon, so when
freed, it would not want to befriend another human person and maybe get shot or
trapped by another farmer.
Many of the pets in DEFEND-A-BULL are animals
that I had taken in and nursed back to health. Even with proper nutrition,
companionship and love there are some that is impossible to ever get back to the
extent they rightfully should be. Some of the pictures you will see may be
distressing to you, but let me assure you that they had come a long way from the
conditions I received them in. Some on the verge of death. All pets became
healthy regardless of their appearance and I was proud of each and everyone of
them and they were ALL very special to me because we came a long way together.
From what I thought was an absolute heartbreak, turned into a love story. We
couldn't save them all, but those that we did rescue lived long happy
lives...and that's what makes me so happy.
I'm no longer able to house animals like I could
when I was together with my husband in a three story condo, as now I live alone,
with a few of my wonderful pet family in a one bedroom apartment on a main
floor. Years have passed by and some of the animals that I loved so much passed
on to Rainbow Bridge living out a long and happy life. This is a small
dedication page to my present and past loving companions.
Meet my current, wonderful pet
family.
I swore up and down that I
was only taking Shasta (then named, Puppy) to train and socialize her as
she was born at the same time as my youngest grandson, Julian. My
son-in-law bought her, but my daughter, busy with a young son and now with
an infant was none too please. Puppies take a lot of work as well as
babies and young children.
I fell in love with her the moment I saw
her and made them a deal. I would take the pup, but only temporarily
to train and calm her down so she would make a wonderful family pet. My
friends would tease me saying, 'You're too attached to her and you know
you're going to end up keeping her!' I insisted that when the time came,
she would go to my daughters house and it wasn't as if I wouldn't see her
again. She'd only be a few street away.
My daughter stood firm that she did not
want the pup under ANY condition, but I was sure she would change her mind
once she saw how wonderful she turned out. She told me that if I gave her
back, she was finding her a new home. There was NO WAY she was giving MY
DOG AWAY and I cried. I told her that I would keep Puppy, but not give
them one red cent for her as with me training and feeding her alone for so
long made up for the price of the dog. My daughter started to laugh and
told me that no way would she take the pup away from me, nor charge me for
her. My son-in-law phoned me and said that Puppy was mine. It didn't sink
in until about 15 minutes later what he had said and I got so excited I
phoned back to make sure I hadn't misunderstood him.
Well, Puppy became Shasta and a closer
bond between Mommy and Shasta couldn't be any more possible that it
already is. Shasta is 2 1/2 years old now and we do absolutely everything
together. Shasta is my life.
Shasta also has two pages of her own in
Conners Wonderland. Shasta's
Pictures and Shasta's
Story. We hope you come to visit them both...don't we Shasta!
This little fellow is a
rescue that has been crying out my patio off and on for about a month. I'd
guess him to be about 5 months old, no collar, tags and no signs up to say
he's lost. I contacted Animal Care last week to see if a kitten in my area
had been phoned in about. There was nothing. I left my name, address and
phone number.
The neighbours said they had almost run
him over by their car in the parking lot and he comes to different places
that have cats, perhaps looking for companionship and food. His cries
would wake me up through the night, and one blistery cold night at 4:30
AM, I brought him in.
Today, March 16th, it became official. I
called Animal Control and nobody had called in about him, so I told them I
would keep him. I bought his tags for the year and will take him in to get
neutered, all his shots (as I doubt he's ever had any) and have him
checked out to see if he may need anything else done, such as de-worming.
I didn't want to get too attached to him
incase he got called in about, so I never gave him a name. So now the name
game will begin.
He's a little scamp, extremely friendly,
but was afraid of Shasta at first. Now the two are great friends.
Petu gets agitated when he is resting or sleeping and gets a full body
attack from the rear from the kitten being so playful. I try to let Petu
handle the situation on his own, but sometimes have to come to his aid.
*giggle*
I've been calling him 'little scamp' or
'brat' sometimes, but he follows me so lovingly and when he's beside me or
on my lap, he's a sweet little darling. He's a short hair, all white with
a gleam of silver through him and a little tuff of gray at the top of his
head.
Well, little fella, WECOME as a new
addition to the family!
PS: I had to take this picture while he
was napping as he's just sooo busy and always in motion curious about
EVERYTHING. It was the only way I could get a clear shot of him. LOL He
had no idea what a kitty litter box was for, but once he figured it out,
he thinks it's the coolest invention made for kitten. I'll keep you
updated with him.
By the way, he
finally has a name. It's Enok taken from my name spelt backwards. Einnoc,
but it didn't look right spelt that way, so I changed it to have it's own
flair! Enok Smudge.
.
This one doesn't really count as
mine...I don't think. *sigh* But as of Sunday, this homeless fellow came
to my patio door in the pouring rain. What could I do? I couldn't
turn him away! His name is Mr. Pige On. Why he came to MY door is beyond
me. I don't have much room as I only have a small one bedroom apartment,
but lucky to have it on the ground floor so it feels like a townhouse so I
can go in and out that way.
At first I thought Mr. Pige On was just
sheltering himself from the rain. Then as I went to offer him some food,
he turned and I noticed he had a bad wing that was dragging on the ground.
Now I knew he was no better than bait for the tom cats or the hawks. It
wasn't hard to catch him since he couldn't fly and a gentle throw of a
nearby towel was the perfect tool.
I called Animal Care and a Wildlife
Rehabilitator, but being a pigeon, as a friend described it, they just
don't give a hoot. Well SOMEONE has to take care of this poor thing...so I
guess I have a houseguest until his wing can mend. At least now I know
it's not broken as he's made himself right at home here and grooms
himself, raising both wings high in the air. It doesn't appear to bother
him in any way. It has feathers broken off and appears to have collided
with something.
Yesterday I shot him...twice...with my
trusty loaded camera. I'll put his pics up once I get the film developed.
UPDATE: Mr. Pige On
mended nicely and was finally able to be released. I only wish he would
come back just to show me he is doing well. I know he is, but I have to
admit...I MISS HIM! Well...that's
gratitude for you! LOL
Although these little
critters aren't really MY squirrels, I love to call them mine as I feed
them daily and they come calling boldly for their peanuts the moment they
spot me up. They are very comical and aren't the least bit afraid of
Shasta, but I also taught Shasta as a puppy that wildlife are our friends.
Even the birds don't fly
off when Shasta is out. But these little black squirrels were totally
forging for their food prior to me feeding them, which is unusual as all
the years I've lived here (over 6 years), the little piglets would snatch
them up and bury them.
This years batch were
doing the opposite and quite skinny, so naturally Conners to the rescue!
LOL There is one in the 2nd picture, if you look closely that is going to
be a mama herself. I'm just making sure that they have plenty to eat and
plenty to stash away.
As you can probably
tell, these little wild creatures have a place in my heart and I can't
help to giggle when they come close to my patio window, sitting up looking
at me as if to say, 'Hey! We're here! Where's the grub?' Mama is the
boldest of them all.
Not included in these
pictures is a young gray that comes to eat and play. Usually, they stay
apart, but not in my backyard. The gray will romp and play with the young
blacks as they do with each other.
If they aren't there
when I come out, I call them with that chatter sound they make and next I
will see one coming from a distance, and then another. Because of the
drought we have been having this summer, I also include a large shallow
container of fresh water for them and the birds.
Sometime people forget
that when they are suffering from the humidity, the animals outside need a
little help in that department too. Because of West Nile, I always make
sure their water is changed frequently.
To make it easier on
myself this year, because of my faulty memory, I call all the young ones
Baby and the pregnant one, Mama. Do you think they really care? LOL
Update:
Mama is giving birth to another litter right now in the flower pot on my
patio. If I can take pictures once she leaves them to find food, I'll snap
some pictures. I'm an auntie again!!! WAHOO!
Rainbow
Bridge
There
is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge
because of its many colors. Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge, there is
a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass.
When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food
and water, and warm spring weather. The old and frail animals are young
again. Those who have been maimed are made whole again. They play all day
with each other.
But there is only one thing missing. They are not with their special
person who loved them on Earth. So each day they run and play until the
day comes when one suddenly stops playing and looks up. The nose twitches!
The ears are up! The eyes are staring! And this one suddenly runs from the
group!
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet,
you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. Your face
is kissed again and again and again, and you look once more into the eyes
of your trusting pet. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be
separated.
Author
Unknown
My most recent
pets that have passed to Rainbow Bridge.
Today, Sunday, Oct. 26th, 2008 has been a very hard
and sad day for us. Us, meaning my son, Michael, his fiancé, Robin and of
course me.
Robin phoned me early in the day. I think it was morning, but what she had
to say to me was so unexpected. Spanky, Michael's Pit/Pei hadn't eaten for
a couple of days and hadn't drank water for probably as long.
When Michael took him out in the backyard that he loved to play in, he
just stood there for awhile before wanting back in to lay down. So unlike
him who was full of energy even at the age of 13.
Robin and I took him to our vet's who did a physical with all signs normal
except his temperature was low due to dehydration. He also needed a blood
test, but my vet said he would fax to the Emergency Clinic as they had all
the facility's there, where as it would take days before he got the
results back. He didn't charge us for his services and wished us well.
The result of the blood tests showed infections in both the kidney and
liver. Had Spanky been a young dog, the results could turn out
differently, but because of age, he said it was most probably end of life
and extensive exams and medications wouldn't mean Spanky would get better.
Possibly it could give him another day or even week.
I try to look into the vet's eyes to see what he would do in this
situation. Finally, I'm not sure if it was Robin or myself who asked the
question. He had given us three options and the second one would not have
helped Spanky. The vet himself told us that and that was to take him home
and self medicate him, plus force him to drink water. So we never even
considered that.
Robin phoned Michael and he had just gotten home from work, she told him
exactly where we were so he could come to make the decision.
Once Michael came he asked more of the 1st option. Him staying for 4 days
with IV and given medication. I was glad we got a vet who was sincere and
genuinely concerned about Spanky rather than giving us BS. He told him he
wanted to be completely straight with us and personally he figured it was
end of life for Spank and his kidney and liver showed real signs of wear
and tear. As much as he would rather be able to give us a better outcome,
he said he couldn't. Spanky had a wonderful life with a lot of love from
what he could tell, but it's his time to go.
Michael, as emotional as the two of us told the vet his concern was not
money, but for Spanky. He wanted to do the right thing for Spank rather
than him having to suffer. To get rid of the infection wasn't going to
correct his liver or kidney and asked if he could develope another
infection because of them. The vet agreed that the most humane would be
the hardest option.
The three of us all wanted to say our good byes to him and be with him
until the very end. Robin and I were so happy we didn't put Spanky's
muzzle on him today. I was happy that BSL didn't rob Spanker-doodle from
us. He was a wonderful boy that gave us years of happy memories and while
we grieve today and have a part of our hearts with a vacancy, we have to
honour his memory with all the silliness and great times we had together.
Spanky walked in on his own to us and the vet removed the lead. He put a
huge comforter folded on the floor and told us to take all the time we
needed. This room was for us as long as we needed. We all kissed and
patted Spanky, talking to him with tears rolling down our faces. I cried
even more as he tried to lick my tears away.
We had unfolded the comforter and it wasn't until he finally went to it
and lay down as if to say, it's time now.
Spanky was Michael's very first dog that he got as a young teen. He had
never seen a dog put to sleep before, but wanted to be with Spank. The vet
explained in detail exactly what he was going to do and what was going on
as he went through the process. We all spoke and stroked Spanky the whole
time with more tears than you imagine could can come out of you. I've gone
through the drill so many times, but it never gets easier as one of your
family is leaving you.
Now gone where there lays no more pain for him we only have memories to
hang on to. Michael will be reminded the most, especially during times he
goes to take him out, or feed him, or simply want to play with him.
Knowing he's gone, yet still in disbelief.
Spanky, you gave so many people so much love, but your true love was
always Michael. We'll miss you, you Lil' Stinker, but I'll come for you at
Rainbow Bridge as we go through heaven's gates together.
Shasta will miss you too, Spanky. She sniffed me when I came home and
knows your scent. I believe she knows my tears are for you as she washes
them away as you did.
All our love is with you forever.
(more pictures will follow)
I saved Petu from being
abandoned in the blueberry bush up in Northern Ontario in the late fall
when he was only a year old. Although he was such a pretty kitten, his
smell was much to be desired. At first, I named him P.U., as he stunk up
the house claiming territory. He was also a very loud, vocal cat that
would yell, rather than a normal voice.
At the vet appointment, I had him
receive all the shots as I doubted he'd ever had any. His ears were
infested with ear mites, which were so bad that his ears were bleeding.
That could have accounted for the yelling if he had a heard time hearing.
He got neutered at the same time. Once home, I had to undertake treating
all my cats and dog for the ear mites as they are so contagious.
As you can see, he grew to be a gorgeous
huge boy with a loving, comical personality.
But
sadly, he's had a hard bout with Inflammed Bowel Disease that I noticed
between the time that Brandy died to the time I rescued Enok. At first the
vet thought perhaps the kitten may have brought something in with him and
we took tests, but they returned normal. Finally I received the diagnoses
of his condition. He had come down from his 17 pounds to 10, but still
looked healthy and active and I had high hopes we would find the right
medication to help him.
Sadly,
every combination we tried the conditioned worsened and he was losing a
lot more weight. He was now down to 5 pounds and very frail. All I could
wish for was a Christmas miracle to save my precious Petu. The last of my
original family since I lived with my hubby and kids. I knew I was asking
for a lot, but I still had hope as the vet had just switched him to a new
medication that he thought would be better, plus a new special diet that
even Enok was not allowed to eat.
It
wasn't meant to be and the very next day, he stopped eating. I tried
giving him all his favourites, but he turned his nose. I knew he was
hungry as he kept going into the kitchen, so I decided to boil a chicken
leg and see if he would drink the broth and perhaps some chicken. He did
drink the small amount I gave him and although he wouldn't eat the meat,
he did eat some finely ground skin, so I gave him a small bowl of both and
he ate and drank most of it.
After
that he settled and I stayed by his side the whole time. I think the bit
of food he ate helped him make it through the night, but I awoke to a moan
and I sat up and kept patting him and speaking to him softly the whole
time and telling him to let go.
My
heart was breaking watching him as he lay their as I stroked him and I
knew how much he loved his ears scratched that when I did, he curled up
his paws and drew them in just like normal onlt without the purring. That
was the last breath he took and my Petu had left this place of pain and
suffering to move on to a better place. Only by a few days did Norm and
then Petu go after each other.
Even
knowing this never takes the pain away from the person that loves their
pet so much. I don't know how your body can produce all those tears of
sorrow even with my mind saying it was for the best. Nothing can heal a
broken heart except time. I miss you Petu and you will be in my heart and
memories forever!
A UWO
University student phoned me heart broken that she needed to find her two
loving 2 year old cats a good home as where she was moving, her landlord
did not like cats and was afraid for their safety. With much emotion, we
cried and hugged each other as I vowed to her I would find them the
perfect home.
They weren't brothers,
but had been together since they were small kittens and she asked if
possible would I try to keep them together. I told her one better. Not
would I only try, but I would PROMISE Norm and Cliff would stay together.
I already had the
perfect home planned, it was just I needed to get the cats ready to work
on where they were going to, and that was my Mom and brother. Never
under-estimate the smartness of cats. When my family came to visit, the
cats instinctively did their part of working at pulling on their heart
strings. You would have sworn they understood me and was following my plan
to a 'T'! I couldn't have done better myself.
Bill said he was more of
a dog lover and I had Norm, the black one go into his doggy act. Bill was
really impressed and I could see he would be easy, but Mom was the
deciding factor.
Well, while Norm
did his thing with Bill, Cliff, the red cat worked on Mom. He was much
more shyer and moved slowly, but he would look up at Mom. and gently jump
on the couch beside her and move himself closer and closer until he was
nearly laying on her.
I knew Mom was a softy,
as she raised me and we always had animals and talking her into keeping
animals all my life was never too hard of a challenge. It only took
patients.
Each visit that they
came over, the cats went into motion and they couldn't ignore them as
these cats knew their routine down pat.
It came my birthday and
Mom said I had to blow out my candle and make a wish. My daughter,
Danielle, only young then, asked what I had I wished for and I said I
couldn't tell or it wouldn't come true. She piped up and said, 'I KNOW!
You wished Gramma would take Norm and Cliff!' I only knowingly smiled.
Mom couldn't resist at
that point and then the plans of transferring them down to Burlington was
in the works. From that day on, both Norm and Cliff were the most spoilt
cats I had ever seen. Mom couldn't hold a conversation without telling me
every detail that her brilliant cats were doing. She would go on for hours
which made me so happy for all of them.
Sadly, a few years ago
Cliff got sick and went to Rainbow Bridge to wait with all the other past
fur-fam.
My Brandy became best
friends and cousin to Norm and they brought him whenever they came to
visit. A few years later, I lost my BrandyCat and Norm and Petu became
friends.
Norm, now about 17 years old has claimed both of them as his
own.
Sadly I received a phone
call saying Norm's time had come. Without a whimper he lay at mom's feet
until he simply fell asleep and died so peacefully that he still looked
like he was only sleeping.
That may help that he
went so peacefully, but hearts are still broken as loved ones pass.
I got Brandy when he was just
6 weeks old when the kids were just young. I almost lost him at about 3,
as he had a massive heart attack and suffered with a heart murmur. The vet said he
wouldn't make it through the night, but BrandyCat proved him wrong. He was to be
on heart medication his whole life, but even then, the vet said he
wouldn't make it to middle age.
Brandy, strong willed proved the vet
wrong again. After about 10 years, I decided to try only giving him his
heart medication every other day as it stressed him out so much. The days
he wasn't on it, I noticed an improvement and stressed out the days I did
give it to him. I slowly weaned him off thinking if need be I could always
put him back on. That was the last time I ever gave him the medication.
and he lived a full and happy long life.
The past couple of years you could see
him becoming more frail and with Brandy, he took pride as never having any
mats and kept himself so clean, but now he just wasn't able to and I tried
the best I could to groom him. He lost his hearing last year and
would go through bouts of not knowing where he was or what he was doing
and cry because he was lost. I never stayed away for any length as I
wanted him to know I was always there to rescue him. When he felt my hands
on him, he would calm down and purr up a storm as I'd bring him to my lap.
Brandy and
I have always had a mental connection. It may sound funny to some
of you, but others will understand what I mean, and that is a very
'special' and close bond. Only 3 days ago, I put my forehead to his with
tears in my eyes and told him I wanted to do the right thing and if it was
time for him to pass, I would do right by him. I sure got my answer very
abruptly, that I couldn't help but giggle inside. He pulled his head away
from me with his ears back and went straight to his food dish and started
gobbling down his food. It was as if he was saying, 'Does THIS look like
I'm ready to go!' He sure put me in my place, but then, Brandy always was
Top Cat!
One thing Brandy always
hated...and I mean HATED...was going to the vets. He definitely was a cat
with attitude and he let you know it. He was always loving with me, but
when it came to others...meaning people and animals, he made sure he
showed them who was BOSS, next to me. Although, that may not be exactly
true as when he decided he wanted to eat, he would give me little nips
either on the back of my legs or closer to my butt. Believe when I
say I got him his food really fast. LOL
Yesterday
morning, I knew it was his last day with me. I could tell from his walking
and breathing that it was nearly time. I knew inside, that he would refuse
the food I offered him, but still I tried. He paced trying to find a dark
spot with privacy. Unlike Roxbro who only wanted on my lap, Brandy still
wanted to be Boss Cat right to the end. My daughter found a wicker basket
and we placed a blanket inside and I put the basket under the coffee table
so I could keep my hand on him to show him I was there with him. He took
his last two breaths and then he was gone. Wednesday, January 18th, 2006
at 6:47pm was the last I saw my Brandy alive and now another star in the
heavens is lit and my angel has gone his way to Rainbow Bridge no longer
in any pain and suffering.
I will
always hold the 22 years of memories that Brandy has given me and he will
never be lost to me as he is in my heart and one day we will be together
once more. Already I miss him more than words can say and tears are
endless. My grief will heal with time, but for now, there is a large void
in my heart to wake up and not see my precious Brandy here. I miss you my
Purrouw! *kisses*
Ruby, a 21/2 year old, fire red
Betta, came to get babysat over the Christmas holidays while my neighbours
were going away out of town for a couple of weeks. A simple job that I
didn't mind one bit. The first thing I did was cleaned his bowl, then
bought him a few presents for under the tree as I did the rest of my
family. Actually, I was never told his name and I couldn't call him, 'Here
fishy, fishy!' So I gave him a temporary name.
When the couple came back, I noticed
nobody came to get him, so I rather reminded them of him. Inside I was
hoping that perhaps they would let me keep him as they really didn't seem
too interested about him...and I was getting rather fond of him.
They were planning to move out of town
in a couple of months and said they didn't want to take him with them. She
asked me if perhaps I would want him. YES! I was thrilled.
Ruby has a tendency to jump out of his
bowl. A very scary situation indeed, so I bought him a 5 gallon
aquarium with lots of gravel, plants and rocks. He loves it and looks so
beautiful now that you can see streaks of blue as he flares himself out as
king of his domain. He is also accepting the Betta food now, rather than
the goldfish food he has always been on.
A friend commented to me one day that
they wished they were one of my pets...so, I guess that's a good thing.
*giggle*
Sadly, this last September Long Weekend,
Ruby passed away. I'm sure there is a wonderful pond where all our fish
pets stay and wait at the Rainbow Bridge.
When I first got called about
Polly, she was so frightened and totally featherless, except what was on
her head. I was already pre-warned that she wouldn't respond to anyone.
When I first saw her I was so heart broken that people could be so cruel.
I approach her slowly and softly, and in a very quite voice I kept telling
her, 'Polly is such a beautiful bird.' 'Pretty Polly.' To everyone's
amazement, she stopped her shaking and turned her head to listen. I
continued talking softly to her for a long time and I knew that she was
going to eventually trust me. We got her ready finally and took her home.
Once home and she heard the other birds in the other rooms, that seemed
to intrigue her. I continued to talk to her and once we got to know each
other and she came to trust me, I offered her a shelled peanut. She must
never have had one before as she didn't understand what it was. I showed
her how to crack it open and she loved the peanuts. I cracked a few more,
but only slightly until she got the idea of what to do. They ended up
being her favorite.
She really started to grow various colours of feather on her legs
and wings, but once I left for Florida for the month, she was set back
even with the family there. When I returned, she was so excited. I was the
only one she would allow to pick her up and often I put her on my keyboard
while I typed on ICQ. She would be walking on the top keys that had the
automatic responses on them and confused a lot of my chatters. LOL
I had Polly for about 12 years and she had come a long way, but the
plucking continued as the new feathers would bother her and as she groomed
she ended up breaking them. But she was on proper food and loved her
treats and going for her walks climbing down from her cage to up to my
desk. Sadly, last year she quietly past away.
Roxbro was the first kitten
that wasn't an orphan or somebody else disaster. I went to a cat show and
when I saw this little litter of kittens of white, silver shaded shaded
chinchilla Persians with jade green eyes. I couldn't pull myself away. The
one kitten really stood out and that was Roc's Bro. The price for the
kittens were far beyond my means, but I knew I had to try. I phoned my
husband from a pay phone and told him about this kitten I JUST HAD TO
HAVE! He asked how much and I thought he was going to hang up on me right
there and then...but he didn't. I was shocked! I told him the kittens
still weren't ready to go yet. They were at the show because his father is
a International grand champion, loaned from Italy and his mother, a North
American champion. To me, that wasn't important. I just wanted the kitten
and the only way I wanted to show him was to show him off to my family and
friends. My husband said that since my birthday was coming up in a month,
that would give him time to buy me the kitten. I was ecstatic and talked
with the breeder and we exchanged phone number and she gave me some of her
literature.
To make a long story short, I finally got Roc's Bro and because he
already came running to his name, I got creative and changed the spelling
to Roxbro. Roxie was my baby that never grew up. He remained kitten like
even as he got older and always craved attention. I taught him how to say,
'Ma ma', but it came out more like 'mra mra'. BrandyCat made sure he kept
his 2nd in the pecking order once I got Petu. Roxbro didn't care, but
Brandy insisted.
2 years ago, at the age of 10, Roxbro developed severe kidney failure.
The vet told me it was because with him being a purebred and a very
fragile cat, that 10 years was old age. I wasn't used to that as my
animals all seem to live twice that age and to me he still was my baby. He
passed quietly in my arms without so much as a whimper. Tears are flowing
down my face as I write this, but I will retrieve him when I pass by
Rainbow Bridge when my time comes.
UPDATE: Sadly
I have found out that my vet due to the death of my Step Dad at the same
time, wasn't being completely honest with me and purebreds can age the
same as my other pets. I understand why he told me that, as at that time,
I couldn't handle the truth that my Roxie was torn from me at such a young
age as compared to what he could have.
Waa Waa, I MISS you so deeply! I visit you often
from where I got you and you were loved from birth until Rainbow Bridge.
The first picture of Bunny is
the last night I had with her. She was 20 years old, losing her bowels and
tripping and falling over. I got her as a 6 week old pup when my daughter
was only 3. This picture means so much to me as I knew that the next day
she would be leaving for her journey to Rainbow Bridge. I tried to get her
to eat as she had stopped that day. I couldn't even tempt her with her
favorite human food. At first she turned away from the camera, but I spoke
softly to her telling her I needed one last picture of her before she left
me. To my surprise, she even smiled for me. Isn't she priceless! Bunny and
I also had a very close mental communication bond. I always said that
Bunny was the daughter that would never get married and leave me for a
man. LOL
The 2nd picture of Bunny and I was when she was about 13 years old when
we were on a camping, fishing trip up in the old North in Ontario way past
Timmons. As you can see, she was always my best friend and loyal
companion. I loved her so much and miss her too. I vowed I would NEVER get
another dog after Bunny was gone. It was just too painful. But as with the
rest of my pet family that has past on, one day we will be together again.
These are some
of the of the other pets that I've rescued.
Sadly, some
have past, but others I'm happy say, are still living a good and happy
life.
When
I first received Chico, although I knew he was some form of parakeet, I
didn't have a clue as to what kind. He was all gray with no tail and
extremely vicious. The only way I could handle him with with thick work
gloves or thick blankets. It took awhile to gain this birds trust, but
with a lot of determination and bandages on every finger, he finally not
only began to trust me, but took me on as his own.
His tail began to grow
and he started to gain some colour. As his health built up, so did his
character and what a character he began to be. I was told he was already
about 7 or 8 when I received him. The old story of a friend of a friend
knew these people and took the bird. The point now was getting him nursed
to health and I could already see the personality of this bird changing.
Once all of Chico's
feathers grew in, we were surprised to see he was a Quaker Parakeet. He
must have never had toys before because soon enough his curiousity turned
into learning fun and antics. I even taught him to talk and he would
elaborate that 'Chico was a good boy. A good, good boy.' He'd say, 'Love
you Mom', wolf whistle at the mention of my daughters name, and do the
kissy kissy thing when I asked him what my son and his girl friend were
doing. We had this dance we did together with him on my shoulder. The bird
dance. I would put my arms out to the side as if flapping my wings, him on
my shoulder getting ready for his cue. As I sang the la la laa la laa la
la in tune to the bird dance we would pop our heads up and down together
as we bounced from side to side and then on the chorus, we would both sing
the 'la la la LA' together. People said we should take our show on the
road.
Chico, now approximately
19 years old, is still alive and up to his antics. This was a true success
story.
Update: I only
found out that Chico has a very loving mate and his life is bliss.
*giggle*
The
little gray dwarf rabbit cam to me after it had been terrified by the
owners rottie chasing it, scaring the poor thing half to death. One day my
husband and I saw a horrible thing they were doing to the rabbit and we
threatened to call the authorities on them. They were smoking up weed in
their back yard with a few buddies and placed the rabbit into a plastic
bag and blew all the smoke in there sealing it tight. They where whipping
the bag around as if it had a ball in it. We hollered angrily at them
telling them that was animal abuse and we were going to phone the Animal
Care on them.
Shortly after that, the
young daughter came to me and begged me to take her rabbit and give it a
good home. She said her mom was going to let it loose. I got her phone
number and phoned her mom asking if it was alright for me to take the
rabbit. So nicely she not only graciously said I could have the rabbit,
but she would give me the cage, food and whatever else it had. How sweet
people can act when you don't know their real side.
I'd never heard a rabbit
growl before, but Bugs did. He had a weird looking gray eye so I took him
to the vets. At a year old this poor little rabbit already had a large
cataract in the one eye and blind in it, with another cataract starting in
the other eye. To have it repaired was risky and the vet didn't think he
would survive it. I always spoke softly to him before approaching him to
let him know I was there first. He became quite lovable and affectionate.
As you can see, he didn't think twice about jumping on the chair while
Brandy was sleeping and waking Brandy up with a bit of a startle. Bugs
made friend with all the household pets knowing none of them would chase
or torment him.
Bugs lived to a ripe old
age until one day he got weak and died in my arms with me stroking him
gently telling him how much I loved him.
Boo
boo was a boo boo on our part. I had set an appointment to have Bunny
spayed, but she fell into heat ad we had to postpone it until after and
just watch her very closely. As my husband was leaving to go to work in
the morning, she darted between his legs and off she went. He tried for as
long as he could to chase her back, but she wasn't listening to him, as if
a game. Finally he was going to be late for work so he woke me up to tell
me.
As I went looking for
her, o my horror, her and a neighbours dog, Sarg were well on the way of
making babies. I screamed for my son and threatened him that if Bunny got
married and had babies, not only wasn't I keeping the babies, but I was
going to get rid of Bunny too! Of course this was all in a fit of panic
and frustration and I wouldn't have done any of the above.
The next thing I know,
Michael determined he wasn't going to lose Bunny, was over there, gave
Bunny the hardest yank of the collar and pulled her home. Poor Sarg
couldn't move. The look on his face was priceless. I scolded Bunny and
told her that was no way for a young lady to behave.
Bunny's belly never grew
and it wasn't until we notices her nipples were large and swollen that we
finally found out she was pregnant. A few days later she had one pup and I
woke the kids up to watch the birth. That's when I told the kids that
Bunny had made a boo boo, and that's how Boo boo got her name. She looks
identical to her father and not like Bunny one bit.
We took Bunny to the
vets to see if there were dead pups in her as having 1 pup is highly
unusual for a medium size dog, but happily there wasn't. We tried to find
Boo boo a good home, but the only takers were people you wouldn't trust
your kids with. Boo boo was more of an outside dog unlike her mother. When
we took her camping up north, she scared 2 young bear cubs away from our
camp site. We were hoping my husbands uncle would take her as she was just
that kind of a dog and he would have loved her, but he was in the hospital
once we got there.
Finally though, we found
her a home in the country where she had teenage kids to play with and
young kids as the wife had stared a new family over. She was an inside,
outside dog and they took her everywhere. She is well loved and very old
now. By the way, they gradually changed her name to Sam.
We got a
call about 2 lovebirds and quickly went to see them. They were named Bobby
and Suzy. It was an elderly couple, but they just didn't realize the mess
they would have to content with. All they wanted was a good home for their
birds.
On the
drive back home with them I told my husband that Bobby and Suzy just
didn't sit right with me. What they needed was something more
adventuresome. That's when I blurted out, BONNIE and CLYDE! And from that
time foreword, thus they became. LOL Clyde was a real sweetheart and would
do ANYTHING for Bonnie...even feed her from mouth to mouth. But Bonnie
turned out to be a cruel abusive bitch to him. If she happened to drop the
seed he was offering him. she'd get so mad and start pecking him
viciously. This was an obvious case of spousal abuse and talk about being
hen pecked. But Clyde still adored her as if she were his queen.
A few times
I caught Bonnie so angry with Clyde that she had him on his back at the
bottom of the cage brutally attacking him and that's when I decided enough
was enough. I put Bonnie into a separate cage, still close enough in the
same room, but not together to see if that would stop her bad treatment of
him. He was so sad with the love of his life not by his side. She
pretended she missed him too and would act so sweetly to him as to making
him want her all the more. After a few months parted and their love
reaching out for each other, I decided to try again. It was bliss as they
kissed and nuzzled one another and I was happy that the separation had
done her some good. When I awoke in the morning, I was horrified at what I
saw. He was laying dead at the bottom of their cage and it was as if she
didn't even notice. The callous bitch MURDERED him without a single
feeling of remorse. And to top that all off, that night she laid an egg.
Unfertilized, but how dare she lay an egg after murdering her lover?
Even
feeding and giving her fresh water was a job I dreaded each day. She would
viciously attack me and one day as I screamed, my husband came running and
literally pulled of beak off my arm. I was bleeding and heartbroken as
this bird didn't care anything about biting the hand that feeds you. She
attacked my family when she got loose on me...and finally even I had my
limits. I called a reputable pet store and asked them if they knew anyone
that would want a breeder. She wasn't pet material. She was laying eggs
all the time now that she didn't have a mate. I think she was off the
wall. Even in this picture she is toying with me to come closer so she
could take a bite. Love bird...hummph! The pet store said that they
also bred and to bring her in. I thought I'd have to pay, but here
they were offering me to take one of their birds, a cage and some food and
toys for it. I reminded them that she was vicious and might kill all their
birds. The man told me that after 2 weeks so she wouldn't be in stress,
they would put in in a big glass room filled with male birds and she would
pick her own mate from there. I told them she didn't go into stress, she
only caused stress.
A couple
weeks later I phoned to check on her and they told me I was right about
her not going into stress, but she found herself a mate and they were both
very happy together. I'm glad that one turned out for the both of them.
Meanwhile, now I had a pale yellow, almost white cockatiel named Benny I
was training, thanks to Bonnie. But unlike Bonnie, Benny became a real
sweetheart.
In the very bottom right hand
side is Mommy, a pearl cockatiel. I got her along with a couple of others, Maggie and Jiggs
who were in pretty bad shape. Mommy's name was Chico when I got her, but 2
Chico's in the house was confusing. Benny is the pale, almost white one
just above her. Once Mommy, prior named Baby (hey! she was a sweet thing!)
got her health back, I decided to house her with Benny. It was comical
watching as my Benny attempted manhood and tried to mount her only to fall
to the bottom of the cage. But he he was persistent and a quick learner.
The two of them made a loving couple and to my amazement Baby started
laying eggs.
I got out my handy-dandy cockatiel book and started reading up on
breeding boxes. The least I could do was give them privacy and now Chico
the Quaker was imitating their mating ritual. My place sounded like a red
light district for birds. LOL
The eggs hatched and thus the family portray of Mommy, Benny and their
youngsters. This was indeed a love story and with all these birds you
could handle them and play with them. Much more different than the story
of Bonny and Clyde. Do you think it was because of the names I branded
them with? *giggle*
On the very far right hand
cage by Roxbro, is Maggie and Jiggs. Although Maggie did look a lot better
than when she was first brought to me, Jiggs remained looking the same
which the feather plucking. But they were healthy and happy birds and the
pair would try mating, but only to lay duds. I think it was the fun of
trying they enjoyed. LOL
The next two cages are the babies getting older and giving them more
space in different cages. Often I would keep all the cages open and they
could fly to which ever one they wanted. I kept the toe snipping Chico in
a separate room with Polly so no harm would befall any of them.
My husband was going crazy as when he came in from work, one of the
more vocal babies that I named Gabriel (for tooting his horn), but for
short, Gabby knowing it would set him off started his twit twills as soon
as hubby sat down on the couch. He'd tell him to 'Shut up!' and then they
all started. I was in hysterics which didn't go well with him, but the
birds did it every day as if it were a game to them and my Gabby was the
cause of it all. I'm so PROUD of him!!! *giggle*
All the birds are still alive today with the exception of Jiggs who
finally met his end of the road and his way to the Bridge.
A UWO
University student phoned me heart broken that she needed to find her two
loving 2 year old cats a good home as where she was moving, her landlord
did not like cats and was afraid for their safety. With much emotion, we
cried and hugged each other as I vowed to her I would find them the
perfect home.
They weren't brothers,
but had been together since they were small kittens and she asked if
possible would I try to keep them together. I told her one better. Not
would I only try, but I would PROMISE Norm and Cliff would stay together.
I already had the
perfect home planned, it was just I needed to get the cats ready to work
on where they were going to, and that was my Mom and brother. Never
under-estimate the smartness of cats. When my family came to visit, the
cats instinctively did their part of working at pulling on their heart
strings. You would have sworn they understood me and was following my plan
to a 'T'! I couldn't have done better myself.
Bill said he was more of
a dog lover and I had Norm, the black one go into his doggy act. Bill was
really impressed and I could see he would be easy, but Mom was the
deciding factor.
Well, while Norm
did his thing with Bill, Cliff, the red cat worked on Mom. He was much
more shyer and moved slowly, but he would look up at Mom. and gently jump
on the couch beside her and move himself closer and closer until he was
nearly laying on her.
I knew Mom was a softy,
as she raised me and we always had animals and talking her into keeping
animals all my life was never too hard of a challenge. It only took
patients.
Each visit that they
came over, the cats went into motion and they couldn't ignore them as
these cats knew their routine down pat.
It came my birthday and
Mom said I had to blow out my candle and make a wish. My daughter,
Danielle, only young then, asked what I had I wished for and I said I
couldn't tell or it wouldn't come true. She piped up and said, 'I KNOW!
You wished Gramma would take Norm and Cliff!' I only knowingly smiled.
Mom couldn't resist at
that point and then the plans of transferring them down to Burlington was
in the works. From that day on, both Norm and Cliff were the most spoilt
cats I had ever seen. Mom couldn't hold a conversation without telling me
every detail that her brilliant cats were doing. She would go on for hours
which made me so happy for all of them.
Sadly, a few years ago Cliff got sick and went to Rainbow Bridge to wait with all the other past
fur-fam. Norm, now about 17 years old has claimed both of them as his
own.
Sadly I received a phone
call saying Norm's time had come. Without a whimper he lay at mom's feet
until he simply fell asleep and died so peacefully that he still looked
like he was only sleeping.
That may help that he
went so peacefully, but hearts are still broken as loved ones pass.
I swore up and down that I
was only taking Shasta (then named, Puppy) to train and socialize her as
she was born at the same time as my youngest grandson, Julian. My
son-in-law bought her, but my daughter, busy with a young son and now with
an infant was none too please. Puppies take a lot of work as well as
babies and young children.
