GIVE THE GIFT OF LIFE THIS HOLIDAY SEASON

It’s Christmas time.


The world becomes covered in pine boughs, garlands, red satin bows and bells. Our minds are overtaken with a new appreciation for family and friends, and we bask in our memories of Christmas past and better times. Homes become more welcoming, hearts become warmer, and spirits seem lighter. We all hope that somewhere, somehow, that man kinds prayers will be answered and that our longing for peace on Earth might actually become a reality.

At your local pound, there is a different longing.

In the lines of kennels that fill Animal Control buildings throughout the United States, dogs and cats of all shapes, colors and sizes sit in silence. None of them understand why they are here, what they did wrong, or how it all came to this. If you look into their eyes, you see the tag which has been stamped on their already broken hearts: abandoned, stray, unwanted, surrendered. They are all but forgotten by the humans that they loved, the evidence of their life in a place they once called home long since erased.

None are immune. Among these sad and sober faces of mutts and unwanted felines are also those of pure breed and proud lineage. Siamese, Persian, Exotic, Labrador Retriever, German Shepherd, Yorkies, Jack Russell’s: they are all present and accounted for in a placed where breed and culture mean absolutely, positively nothing. Here in the silent darkness, where hope, love, and comfort are overshadowed by fear, loneliness, and despair, they are all of one kind: lost.

For many who occupy these kennels and cages, the final stroke of a pen and the prick of a needle will wipe away the last proof that they were even here at all.

Here the purest and most loyal hearts ever created count away the hours to the end of their existence. A bombardment of prayer more sincere than most anything human, pummels Heaven repeatedly with one pleading request:

“Please God, Please let me live.”

When you read this, did God speak to your heart? Did he tell you to be the answer to one of those prayers? Will you listen? Their lives are depending on your giving them your full attention, and saving them.

Help answer these prayers and give the Christmas story of a dog or cat facing destruction a happy ending. Let the joy and love of God and Christmas live in your home year round by sharing your life with one of these broken hearts who need you so desperately. COMMIT TO A LIFE TIME relationship with an animal who will be the most loyal, loving friend you will ever have on Earth.
The clock is ticking THEIR lives away--ADOPT OR FOSTER from your local Animal Control and change the existence of one of these dogs or cats FUREVER.
 In doing this, you give the greatest gift in existence: life.

UPDATE ON BUSTER-SAVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is BUSTER and he is currently at the CHEATHAM COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL. HIS TIME WAS RUNNING OUT FAST!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDED A HERO TO STEP UP AND FOSTER HIM so that he can receive PAID FOR medical care!!!


AND HE GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BUT IN CASE SOMEONE IS INTERESTED IN ADOPTING BUSTER--I"M GOING TO LEAVE HIS INFO HERE.
Here is is his bio:

BUSTER is a 3 year old male Chocolate Lab mix. He weighs 60 pounds and he is current on vaccinations. BUSTER was abandoned by his owner - who is a convicted felon. His owner tied him to his abandoned trailer, with no food or water. When we got to BUSTEr he was thirsty, hungry, and thin with his ribs showing. BUSTER has been a great dog at Animal Control! He is friendly with other dogs and people. He doesn't seem to be interested in cats much at all. BUSTER is great on the leash too! BUSTER is Heartworm Positive - but he has a sponsor for his treatment - and Heartworm is condition that is totally treatable! This boy is handsome, loving and very very thankful for any attention he gets. He's a gentle dog and he would be a good family pet! PLEASE call Animal Control at: 615-792-3647 THANK YOU!!!! TJ Jordi, Director, Cheatham County Animal Control

A statement from Clarksville AC Director Karen Josephson about Buster

"I rescued BUSTER when I was with Cheatham County Animal Control. He was tied to an abandoned trailer by his owner. A man who is a convicted Pedophile who treated BUSTER horribly. BUSTER is HW positive - but has a sponsor for the slow kill treatment. BUSTER is a joyful Chocolate Lab Mix - and he...'s affectionate and playful and a happy. HE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE and he is at risk of not making it out this week!!! 615-792-3647 ". Buster had a last minute adoption to save him but it fell through. His life is REALLY on the line and could be ending very shortly. This is a last ditch plea to save him.

So now that BUSTER will be fostered and receive his heart worm treatment, now all he needs is a forever home to take him, love him, and GIVE HIM THE LIFE he DESERVED in the FIRST PLACE.

If you are interested in teaching this boy what life could be like with a LOVING FAMILY--call the number listed above.

UPDATE ON BUSTER__SAVED!!! FOSTER ACCOMPLISHED!!!!!!!!!!!

Thsis is BUSTER and he is currently at the CHEATHAM COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL. HIS TIME WAS RUNNING OUT FAST!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDED A HERO TO STEP UP AND FOSTER HIM  so that he can receive PAID FOR medical care!!!

AND HE GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

BUT IN CASE SOMEONE IS INTERESTED IN ADOPTING BUSTER--I"M GOING TO LEAVE HIS INFO HERE.
Here is is his bio:
BUSTER is a 3 year old male Chocolate Lab mix. He weighs 60 pounds and he is current on vaccinations. BUSTER was abandoned by his owner - who is a convicted felon. His owner tied him to his abandoned trailer, with no food or water. When we got to BUSTEr he was thirsty, hungry, and thin with his ribs showing. BUSTER has been a great dog at Animal Control! He is friendly with other dogs and people. He doesn't seem to be interested in cats much at all. BUSTER is great on the leash too! BUSTER is Heartworm Positive - but he has a sponsor for his treatment - and Heartworm is condition that is totally treatable! This boy is handsome, loving and very very thankful for any attention he gets. He's a gentle dog and he would be a good family pet! PLEASE call Animal Control at: 615-792-3647 THANK YOU!!!! TJ Jordi, Director, Cheatham County Animal Control


A statement from Clarksville AC Director Karen Josephson about Buster
"I rescued BUSTER when I was with Cheatham County Animal Control. He was tied to an abandoned trailer by his owner. A man who is a convicted Pedophile who treated BUSTER horribly. BUSTER is HW positive - but has a sponsor for the slow kill treatment. BUSTER is a joyful Chocolate Lab Mix - and he...'s affectionate and playful and a happy. HE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE and he is at risk of not making it out this week!!! 615-792-3647 ". Buster had a last minute adoption to save him but it fell through. His life is REALLY on the line and could be ending very shortly. This is a last ditch plea to save him.
SO IT'S NOW OR NEVER FOLKS--PLEASE HELP SAVE THIS LIFE !!!!!!! Pass this--share it--call somebody you know--BUT DO IT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TO KEEP HEARTS BEATING: KENO-ANOTHER LIFE SAVED

Pictured; Top--Keno at Animal Control--Bottom--JACK in his new home



I’m into self torture.

Every week I scout the petfinder pages of the Clarksville Animal Control and run my heart thru the shredder, wondering how many of those new fuzzy faces will escape and how many will be forced over the Rainbow Bridge because no one wanted them.

I had been posting these lost souls individually, over and over and over and over on my Face Book page. But there have gotten to be so many animals at the pound that I can’t manage a personal write up for each one anymore. So I have taken to a quickie method of posting the actual link so that the casually curious can go in and scout out their own new best friend.

No matter how they get posted, I live in the fantasy of hoping that SOMEONE will see the dog or cat of their dreams and run down there to save them.

By God’s grace—sometimes fantasy becomes reality.

Little Keno had been at Animal Control for a while, and his time was slowly but surely running out. Cute as a button and sweeter than honey dew, this little guy was continuously overlooked by adopters and rescues, and it wasn’t looking like he would make it.

I pounded Facebook into the ground with his little face. I wrote some of my best mushy, heart breaking comments under them. But still, little Keno sat watching the clock.

But then, I received an email from Lori, a fellow animal warrior and work colleague,saying that she and her hubby just couldn’t take it anymore and they had decided to adopt Keno.

Lori drove to Clarksville and saved that little soul, renaming him Jack, and setting him on the road to a place where most pets of the true and the brave animal owners end up: SPOILED ROTTEN TOWN.

Keno was saved, and I thanked God for the miracle.

But though I was overjoyed that Keno was saved, there were many others who were just as lovable—just as deserving—that didn’t make it.

I try not to question God’s will—but when I know that a innocent, living things heart has stopped beating, it’s hard not to buckle.

But I have to hold onto the victories, remember the miracles, and keep on posting those faces, and writing these blogs, and emailing rescues and possible adopters, and asking people to consider fostering and whatever else I can do that might pull ANOTHER victory in favor of another life being saved.

And I can look at little Keno, and thank God for people like Lori, and keep on trucking.

ATTACK OF THE CONE HEAD

Since we moved to the new Dogwood, all six of my four legged felons have been experiencing a period of adjustment to their new surroundings. During that time, we have had little accidents and little burst of temper (mine), and other quirks that have developed along the way.


One BAD quirk was developed by little Daisy, who chewed and licked her leg until she developed a raw, ugly sore. I tried my best to keep ointment on it and wrapped it at night so that the medicated gel could actually soak into her leg and not her tongue. But after a few days, the spot grew deep red and became puffy, and I knew we would be seeing the new vet again very soon.

I have no issues with going to a vet’s office. I do have an issue with getting there. Vet visits mean hog tying a dog or cat into the car, holding them there, and usually arriving covered in hair, fur, slobber, and in some cases, my own blood.

So on Saturday morning, I took an extra nerve pill, put Daisy’s leash and harness on her, and started for the door. She went BONKERS at the thought of going outside the gate of the fenced in yard. Her case of excitement was so severe that I finally just picked her up and put her in the car instead of trying to gain any type of control to lead her there.

Better Half drove the car, and I did my best to keep the Mexican jumping bean from leaping from back seat to front seat.

After about a mile, Daisy became entranced by the passing scenery and stopped bucking like a Texas mule . But she still wanted nothing more but to be in the front seat. I finally relented and prepared to put the strangle hold on the little octopus to keep her in place.

Strangle hold not required.

Daisy leaped into my lap and sat as quiet and still as a toddler, watching the scenery pass by and looking at me every few seconds with a smile that could melt steel wool. She was a very good girl all the rest of the way to the vet, and did very, very well in the office.

Unfortunately, Daisy’s little lick fetish had infected the skin and she was placed on antibiotics and was fitted for a head cone. I’m very glad we went to the vet, as she had already started another spot on the other leg. The cone will hopefully deter the licking until the spots heal, and then we will try Black Cherry therapy in hopes that the awful taste will keep her from doing it again.

SO for now, I have a canine cone head that keeps jacking my jaw when she leaps up to give me “lubbins”.

But you know—that’s OK. You see, Daisy is one of the seven most special beings in my world. As long as she is healthy and happy—she can crack me in the skull with that plastic lampshade all she likes.

It just goes to show you, God provides so many simple thing s in life to bring us joy. But they can also bring so much more. I have always heard it said that when the Lord wants you to grow spiritually, he plants a seed somewhere in your heart or life that he hopes will become a blossoming flower of knowledge, patience, strength, or happiness.

In my case, God knew a seed just wouldn’t be enough. So he planted a fur bed, including one special variety of a whole blooming, blossoming, exploding flower.

At Dogwood, and in my heart, God planted a Daisy.

THE POWER OF LUBBINS

I am amazed by the power of words.

They have the ability to both build you up and tear you down, depending on the type of power infused into them by the one who writes or speaks them. It’s unfortunate that the power usually injected into words is hate or anger.

But when used right, words can provide strength, give hope, and change the way minds think. They can also shine a ray of light into a completely horrible day around.

I had that experience recently.

I can usually multi-task my job duties without a meltdown or major drama. But that particular morning, it seemed the harder I worked, the more work I got. There was a devil on my shoulder, having a ball as he whispered rotten nothings into my ear.

By lunchtime, I had dealt with several challenging people, and was ready to come out swinging at the next person who had some smart remark to make.

But then, I noticed that among the twenty or so other emails in my in-box, I had one from the Better Half. It was different in nature, as the word in the subject line didn’t start out with some kind of complaint driven adjective or verb requiring immediate action, topped with a red flag.

It was titled with one simple word that means everything in the world to a Dogwood resident: Lubbins.

For those of you who don’t already know, “lubbins” is a special “Dogwood speak” word with a double meaning for “kisses” and “love”.

I opened the email. It said simply, “Me and babies Lub You”.

“Lubbins” overtook heart and saved the day, because of the power that we have built INTO that word, and what it means to the eight heartbeats that make Dogwood a family and a home.

As I looked up to see the pictures that wall paper my cubicle, into the faces of my Better Half and of all my fur babies, I reminded myself that, when the day was done, none of what I was so mad about would matter anymore. They would all be waiting for me, and that is what gets me thru the day.
My heart flipped like a hamburger and I went from grilled with anger to filled with peace.

I typed back to Better Half, “I lub you too.”

By the time my lunch hour was over, I had swatted the devil off my shoulder, banked my anger, and put on my big boy pants to get the rest of the day completed.

I admit, I had to re-read that email several times that day to keep my peace of mind. But when the day was done, I went home to be scratched, tromped on, barked at, and licked like a lolly pop.

I’m one of the luckiest people in the world.

Words.
They have a power to rip you up, or glue you back together. It’s all in how we use them.

CLARKSVILLE (AND THE NATIONS) ANIMAL OVERPOPULATION IS NOT ANIMAL CONTROLS FAULT

WARNING: NOT A NICE COLUMN!  Call it a rant--a rave--whatever--but my heart is in my mouth over the number of animals being surrendered, abandoned, and put to sleep--and my feelings are rushing out faster than I can type.


We have so many animals in Clarksville, that end their days sitting in a kennel at our Animal Control.

For a long time, I was angry at the A/C officers.  It's easy to do when all you see is the bad, and you are not walking a mile in their shoes.

But a couple of years ago, I had an experience that made me take another look at my feeling about Clarksville's pound.
The day I went down to pick up my first foster dog, Sadie, there was a kid (OK-young man) behind the counter who I struck up a conversation with while Sadie was being processed.

We talked about the job, and the stamina it takes to do it. We talked about the efforts being made to save animals, and the sad truth that we can't save them all.
He spoke of the tough part--getting attached to one of those animals who he knew would never see another sunrise, and I could see the tears in his eyes as he spoke.


It touched my heart when I realized that this young man loved animals just as much I do.
That young man had fallen in love many, many times with countless fuzzy faces that he had probably helped destroy.  It made me see that he was a young man, with a crappy job that someone had to do---it just turned out to be him.
Animal Control is just a county agency put in place to handle a problem--just like the police--the fire department--and all the rest. 
I realized that it's not the A/C's fault that people mistreat their animals, starve and chain them like lawn ornaments, or allow litters of puppies and kittens to be born over and over, increasing the already explosive population in our county.+

It's not their fault that people don't tag their animals, or have them micro chipped so that in the event the animal should become lost, the owners can be located .

It's also not Animal Controls fault that, even when owners of “lost” or stray dogs and cats are located, the owners never come to claim the animals --no matter how many phone calls are made.
The guys and gals down at Animal Control do the job the county puts them there to do.

Do I like it--NO.
Sorry I'm a tree hugger and softy--I want every animal to live it's life to the fullest and be loved.

 It's people who create the animal problems--not the other way around.

Animal Control officers do a job that I couldn't do it--and I sure as heck am not going to sit in judgment of them for it.
I know in my heart that there is not a single person down there at this time that would not cheer if they were to find out they would never have to stop another heart from beating.

And I am willing to help them reach that goal, and encourage THE CITIZENS AND THE POLITICIANS who sign the checks BECOME INVOLVED TOO>
WE CAN SAVE THOSE LIVES! The power is in our hands today-and has been all along.

First we stop the countless litters from being born by having pets spayed and neutered so that the number of UNWANTED and DISCARDED animals will drop.

Second, we educate people about becoming foster families for animals, and work with our local shelters and the Animal Control to network these foster animals into permanent adoptions or into transports so that we can find homes for the healthy, adoptable animals that we are currently killing because we can't find homes fast enough.

We also could work to help to place those animals who are otherwise healthy, but suffer from allergies or loss of a limb, or have bladder problems.

If we could nurture 50 permanent foster homes in Clarksville, and place one dog or cat in each--WHAT A DIFFERENCE we could make!!

Animals die every day simply because that special person who would have loved them forever---never even knew they existed.
That's not fair--and the excuse of "that's life" just doesn't cut it with me.

WE HAVE THE POWER!! It's not political power or money power, which is probably why no one seems to be that interested in reaching out and grabbing a hand full!.

WE HAVE THE POWER TO SAVE LIFE--to keep hearts beating and lungs breathing! We have the POWER to make one of GOD”s CREATURES HAPPY!!!!

How can anyone not be interested in that?

So what was this fifty thousand word rant about??

What was my point??
My point was--GET OUT THERE AND TAKE HOLD OF SOME POWER!!!!
Save a life--make a four legged creature happy and give it a chance to fulfill it's destiny.
It has one--believe it or not--and it's to make someone happy.

WHY do you think God created them first?????
WRITE YOUR COUNTY COMMISSIONER AND YOUR MAYOR and tell them to get off their duffs and start supporting the efforts of AC and the local rescues to end this needless killing spree of animals whose only sin was BEING BORN!  Support the Director and those officers that want so much to see each and every animal that comes into their care LEAVE THAT FACILITY ALIVE AND WELL!
GET UP! GET OUT! GET INVOLVED!

I don't hold anger for the Animal Control people anymore. I know that the new director, Karen Josephson, is doing everything in her power to save those lives that pass thru the Montgomery County Animal Control.

But ONE PERSON can’t do it all.
 IT TAKES A COMMUNITY TO BEAT UP A VILLAGE OF IGNORANCE, DIS CONCERN, AND ALL OUT REFUSAL TO SEE THE ISSUE AT HAND!!!

As long as we stand stagnant, allowing the animal population to grow uncontrolled, and continue to ENCOURAGE the kill rate to climb--
it's not

The animals fault,

Not Animal Controls fault,

Not Karen Josephson’s fault

It’s ALL OF OUR FAULTS.

MORNING MADNESS: MAYHEM, MISCHIEF, AND HOT METAL

Pictured: The Charlie dog--otherwise known as the Canine Road Block

My day begins with mayhem, madness, and a steaming piece of hot metal.


No—I haven’t built a torture chamber or gotten into anything kinky. Actually the chore I am referring to, ironing clothes, is in no way that glamorous or sensational.

Let’s face it: ironing is a boring job. But like every other part of my life, the Dogwood crew always finds a way to liven things up.

To be fair, Lucy, my oldest, has no part of this. As she is mature, hard headed and set in her ways (sound familiar?), retreating to the bedroom to watch the morning news. While Lucy is catching the 5:15 weather report to see if she will need a raincoat or not, my other five feline felons and canine convicts are busy creating a whirlwind of activity.

Bart will climb up onto the highest peak of a stack of boxes. Both he, and the stack, will be teetering back and forth trying to find balance. I have no idea what draws him to high places, but one thing is for certain: before it’s over, Bart will get yet another flying lesson.

His kitty accomplice, and amateur botanist, Sebastian, is busy nearby rolling in the black soil of a big pot Peace Lilies. Before I leave for work, we’ll be having another baptism in the bathroom. I guess if I had nine lives; I’d be making sure all of them got to Heaven too.

Hines loves to hide himself behind the rack of pants. He thinks he’s being clever, but I think I would remember buying a pair of corduroys with little rat terror (I mean terrier) ears. But we still go thru the ritual of “Where’s Hines???” He never tires of this game, though I hate having to brush his fur off all my britches before I can iron them.

Daisy is always doing what Daisy does best: hanging onto my hip by her front paws, begging for attention until I pick her up.

Have you ever ironed a pair of slacks while holding sixteen pounds of pup and having your ear filled with dog spit? Trust me, you’d remember it. I wish Johnson & Johnson could invent a Q-Tip that is absorbent enough to soak all that fluid out of my ear.

Charlie, my special child, is more subdued. He always lies down on the rug, stretching out across the door way. Add a flashing light to his head and he’d be the perfect canine road block.

Just before I finish the job and begin to close down my little laundry stand, Bart and Sebastian discover that the chord of the iron is RETRACTABLE and the real fun begins.

Am I crazy to let this go on every morning? Naaaahhhh!

I spend all day away from them. But mornings, mayhem and all, are spent together. Besides, as long as they are with me, I’m not constantly asking myself, “What was that crash in the other room?”

So if you should see me out in public and notice that I’m wrinkled, scorched, or a little crispy around the collar, remember to be kind. My clothes may be sad, but my mornings are VERY joyful.

PETS INSPIRE WRITING AND TEACH NUMEROUS LIFE LESSONS

Pictured: Little Lucy in her first year at Dogwood. Her adventures filled several journals and led to bigger and more elaborate plot devices!

I used to buy two newspapers every Wednesday: one for me, and one for Momma.

I did this because I always got such a thrill out of seeing something I wrote in print.

Don’t get the wrong idea.

It’s not that I love myself that much, or try to pat myself on the back for anything. It was such a thrill because, in school, I was always told that I couldn’t write worth a flip.

Writing has always helped me to escape, to express the thoughts that crowd my dysfunctional brain. But in college, I was advised to reconsider my passion. I tried hard, but wasn’t getting anywhere. So I got a job and dropped out.

Eleven years passed. I re-entered college and decided to try again. This time my writing was diagnosed with a different malady: it had no style. I was nudged towards news writing, which bored me to tears. I got the degree, put my pen down, and moved onto other things.

One of those things was a 10 week old Labrador retriever pup named Lucy.

As Lucy grew, I kept a little journal of her mis-adventures at Dogwood. Every cute, silly thing that she did became words on a page.

Soon our fur family grew, and the adventures I penned became epic tall tales of disaster and mayhem. The original “big three”: Lucy, Charlie and Pearl, filled my life and the journal pages, with fun, love, and craziness. I began to run out of journal.

Then I found the Pet People blog on the Leaf Chronicle website. I shared my kids quirks, and their horrible habits, and found kindred spirits who were writing their own fur-boding tales.

After Hines arrived, I started writing the column in the Leaf Chronicle. The mischief of my still growing brood leaked into the regular stories about fostering, adoption, and rescue. Daisy arrived, Pearl left us, and the last two felines, Bart and Sebastian settled in, and the fodder of their absolute bonkers behavior just kept on rolling onto the page.

I became the personal biographer to my own Royal family, and they gave me more material than I could write.

Aside from the humor and mayhem, reflecting their lives in pen and ink has taught me much: patience, perseverance, faith, and the simple fact that miracles are possible.

I am a better person because the Almighty brought Lucy, Charlie, our beloved Pearl, Hines, Daisy, Bart and Sebastian into my life.

Because their bad behavior was just too good to keep to myself, I did end up being a writer of sorts.

I wondered out loud once, why had my college writing flopped so badly.

The Better Half had the final say. “It’s clean, it’s funny, it’s sad, and it’s honest, and there is nothing wrong with that.”

I may never write the great American novel, or be the next John Boy Walton, but that’s OK. I have something much more valuable: a furry cast of characters who continue to fill me with wonder, who are always up to no good,… and will never be able to hold a pen for signing litigation to sue for me for copyright.

Well----maybe Hines could.

FUNDRAISER TO AID JOEYS FUND THIS SATURDAY!

It’s been a week or so since our community rallied around a little dog who had met horrible abuse at the hands of a human. Little seven pound rat terrier, JOEY, had both his front legs broken by a human.

Per the Clarksville Leaf Chronicle, that owner surrendered JOEY to Animal Control because of the expense of helping him.
As the county pound has no funding to help such cases, they are usually considered hopeless and euthanized. They become yet another number in Montgomery County’s hideous statistics of euthanized strays and unwanted animals that fill the records.
But God saw this little animal in need, and he touch the heart of Director Karen Josephson, impressing on her that JOEY could be SAVED!
Karen worked with Animal Hospital in Clarksville, and was assured that surgery could help this small spirit heal, and walk again. So Karen stepped out on faith, and placed little Joey in their care.
A plea went out for donations to help pay for the operation, and hundreds of people stepped out on that same faith to give.
JOEY’s little legs were put back together with surgical hardware, wire, and lots and lots of prayer. And like the little warrior that he is: JOEY pulled through.
This little dog, who had been shown everything BUT love and devotion---has done nothing but lick and love his rescuers and wag his little tail in appreciation.

JOEY still needs your help.

His major medical needs have been met, but there are still costs involved I his care.

THIS SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 5th, at the Clarksville Petsmart on Wilma Rudolph Blvd from 9 am to 4 pm, JOEY’s rescuers will be having a fundraiser in efforts to continue to provide the funding for JOEYS medical care. There will be baked good, crafts, silent auctions, etc in hopes that JOEYS FUND will be able to maintain this little souls medical attention and ensure that he will once again be able to run, play, and live a fruitful life in a forever home.

• If you would like to donate towards JOEYS recovery, or donate anything in the way of baking good, craft, or items for silent auction, PLEASE email JOEY’s FUND at joeymemorialfund@gmail.com

• THANK YOU

HINES GETS THE SHAM!!

Pictured: Hines, the rat terror of Dogwood, all snuggled up with his Batman Comforter


Dogwood doggie blankets are retired due to old age.
Lucy, Charlie, Hines, and Daisy are always chewing, ripping, or dragging them in some form or fashion. Of course, Daisy is the worst. I can put a full blanket in her kennel in the morning and by night fall, she is dragging a wad of thread thru the house.
My favorite source of replenishment is the Good Will. While other people are hauling out TV’s and furniture at their 50% off sale, Better Half and I are rolling out with a new mound of used comforters, and throws.
Once in a while, I find a really nice bargain for the kids. At a recent sale, I found two beautiful pillow shams that were brand new. They were heavy, quilted material, with embroidered designs and strong heavy stitching. I thought I had really made a find.
Hines, the rat terror (I mean terrier), loves to curl up in quilted, comfy blankets and snooze his days away. So he was the one who was rewarded with the beautiful puffy sham. I had barely gotten it washed, dried, and laid in his little house before he was sprawled out on it.
Hines loved his new bed, and I had no problem getting him to go in and lie down for some private time. He was so proud of it.
Last week, when Better Half and I came home from work and let everyone out into the yard for potty time, Hines was not among the gaggle of hounds that burst forth from the back door.
Usually when this happens, someone has lagged behind to forage thru the open kennels and finish someone else’s treat. But when I didn’t see Hines in the other kennels, I was ready to panic.
Then I heard a dull thump, as if a cloth covered hammer were being tapped against a plastic wall. I looked into what I thought was Hines’ empty kennel. Thumping against the plastic, the pillow shame was alive.
In his effort to find the most comfy warm spot,Hines had crawled completely inside of the sham… and now couldn’t get out. My guess was that he had curled up inside the sham and fell asleep. When Better Half and I entered, he woke up and forgot he had sealed himself up like a peanut.
Honestly, it was one of the funniest, and most pitiful, things I had ever seen. I waited for his little head to pop out so that I could help him, but he was so discombobulated that all he was able to do was stumble around in a circle. He didn’t bark, he didn’t make a sound, he just kept trying to get out.
Finally I had mercy on the piece of walking bed linen, reached in, and popped out a very confused, humbled little dog.
Like many romances, the love affair with the beautifully quilted sham was over. That’s OK, because Daisy reduced it to a rag the very next evening.