The fur kids have kept me busy and a little broke. When I noticed Moon standing over Baby (both greyhounds) in a most protective way, I was puzzled. Upon looking closer, I saw Baby had a puncture wound high up on the inside of a front leg. Off to the vet for a look see and eventual 3 stitches. Keeping her from picking at the stitches has been an adventure in itself but almost done with the bandage over top of the stitches, another few days and the stitches come out and hopefully this little saga is done. No, I don't know how she did it. I am thinking it was from play wrestling with Roy the collie as he tends to grab another dog's legs when playing that way. Why, I don't know.
Jolly and William needed their annual vaccinations BUT Jolly has not seemed improved after starting Lasix about a month ago for his diagnosed congestive heart failure. Instead of shots, Jolly got a new x-ray and a new diagnosis. Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and some new meds. Here's hoping he improves with time. The vet said his prognosis is maybe another year of quality of life. I will just be happy if he can exist without huffing, puffing and coughing so hard!
Oh, William the pom got his vaccinations without any problems. Yeh, William!
Final dog tidbit is that I applied to adopt Blue Moon Red, my greyhoundfoster boy. He fits in here with the other dogs well, so it is working out okay. I figure Ruby is elderly and at 16, I really don't know how much quality of life she has going for her and then there is Jolly with COPD. While it seems a lot of dogs right now, I think nature will run its course here sooner or later. D
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Goodbye Miles, Hello Moon
Miles went home a week ago, adopted by a couple in Virginia. I have heard they were very pleased with him and I did get some photos of their meeting Miles after the transport.
Miles went up to Virginia on a tranditional transport truck for greyhounds. All but Miles and another boy from the rescue group I help, GPA/GO, were doubled up in their transport areas. Miles got to ride alone, so it worked out okay for him.
On to my next foster, Blue Moon Red. Checking the greyhound-data website, he has no races to his credit just as my Baby (Hurricane Momalaw) does not. Just a couple of "goose eggs" (or zeros) on their official race records! Moon, as I call Blue Moon Red, has been in the adoption kennel for several months and considered shy or a "spook", at least when he arrived at the rescue. He was a good candidate to go into a foster home, since living in the kennel did not seem to serve him well. I brought him home on 02/22/2008.
The first night was rough. I don't know if I even got one hour of sleep! He was just inconsolable. Nothing was right, as far as he was concerned. Nothing I did seemed to matter. Happier days were to come but that was a hard first 24 hours. I even emailed my foster home contact with the rescue, emailing her at 3 a.m., telling her "I just don't know if I can foster this dog". He was not only upset but he was hard to handle! Everything just seemed wrong.
Slowly but surely the sun started to come out for Mr. Moon. He always liked my current dogs. Having lived his life around other dogs in the kennels, that part seemed easy for him. The living inside with me seemed to be the hard part, for both of us. In the racing kennels, the days start early so a greyhound really is not a good dog for those who want to sleep in. On the plus side, I don't think I will need to worry about an alarm clock. Boy, did Baby my greyhound spoil me! She will happily wait until 9 to go out. Not so for the retired racers or any dog who has lived in that environment. Wow.
So, 5:30 a.m. is my wake up call from Moon. Imagine the sound of an animal being stabbed. He makes a sound something like that, or at least that is how it is perceived by me at that ungodly hour. Keep in mind, I have been working second shift, so I usually don't get to bed until well after midnight which in turn does make 5-ish a.m. obscene. 5:30 up. 6 a.m. breakfast. Just when I am ready to crawl back into bed, he is ready to start his day! Live and learn. Or better, be flexible. I am now getting up earlier to accomodate him rather than think he'll change his schedule anytime soon. I am even changing my shift of work to accomodate Mr. Moon (or any retired racer). The early bird gets the worm and other such stuff, you know?
Well, within a week Mr. Moon has worked his magic on me. He's no longer shy, at least not shy towards me. Taking a good critical look at this boy, I can see he's not Miles. Miles came in with pretty much perfect coat, big old punkin head and all of his teeth. Not so Mr. Moon. Mr. Moon's coat is punctuated with scars from God only knows what and his tail appears to have been broken at the tip, making it appear he is permanently signaling a left turn! Finally, his teeth. No, they are not especially dirty but they do seem to be missing in spots. He is down to one canine tooth and the front teeth are worn down, assuming he spent time chewing on his crates over his only 2 years of life! Ah, well. Mr. Moon. Welcome to the Rodgers Ranch... stayed tuned for more adventures to come.
Miles went up to Virginia on a tranditional transport truck for greyhounds. All but Miles and another boy from the rescue group I help, GPA/GO, were doubled up in their transport areas. Miles got to ride alone, so it worked out okay for him.
On to my next foster, Blue Moon Red. Checking the greyhound-data website, he has no races to his credit just as my Baby (Hurricane Momalaw) does not. Just a couple of "goose eggs" (or zeros) on their official race records! Moon, as I call Blue Moon Red, has been in the adoption kennel for several months and considered shy or a "spook", at least when he arrived at the rescue. He was a good candidate to go into a foster home, since living in the kennel did not seem to serve him well. I brought him home on 02/22/2008.
The first night was rough. I don't know if I even got one hour of sleep! He was just inconsolable. Nothing was right, as far as he was concerned. Nothing I did seemed to matter. Happier days were to come but that was a hard first 24 hours. I even emailed my foster home contact with the rescue, emailing her at 3 a.m., telling her "I just don't know if I can foster this dog". He was not only upset but he was hard to handle! Everything just seemed wrong.
Slowly but surely the sun started to come out for Mr. Moon. He always liked my current dogs. Having lived his life around other dogs in the kennels, that part seemed easy for him. The living inside with me seemed to be the hard part, for both of us. In the racing kennels, the days start early so a greyhound really is not a good dog for those who want to sleep in. On the plus side, I don't think I will need to worry about an alarm clock. Boy, did Baby my greyhound spoil me! She will happily wait until 9 to go out. Not so for the retired racers or any dog who has lived in that environment. Wow.
So, 5:30 a.m. is my wake up call from Moon. Imagine the sound of an animal being stabbed. He makes a sound something like that, or at least that is how it is perceived by me at that ungodly hour. Keep in mind, I have been working second shift, so I usually don't get to bed until well after midnight which in turn does make 5-ish a.m. obscene. 5:30 up. 6 a.m. breakfast. Just when I am ready to crawl back into bed, he is ready to start his day! Live and learn. Or better, be flexible. I am now getting up earlier to accomodate him rather than think he'll change his schedule anytime soon. I am even changing my shift of work to accomodate Mr. Moon (or any retired racer). The early bird gets the worm and other such stuff, you know?
Well, within a week Mr. Moon has worked his magic on me. He's no longer shy, at least not shy towards me. Taking a good critical look at this boy, I can see he's not Miles. Miles came in with pretty much perfect coat, big old punkin head and all of his teeth. Not so Mr. Moon. Mr. Moon's coat is punctuated with scars from God only knows what and his tail appears to have been broken at the tip, making it appear he is permanently signaling a left turn! Finally, his teeth. No, they are not especially dirty but they do seem to be missing in spots. He is down to one canine tooth and the front teeth are worn down, assuming he spent time chewing on his crates over his only 2 years of life! Ah, well. Mr. Moon. Welcome to the Rodgers Ranch... stayed tuned for more adventures to come.
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