April Showers Bring May Flies and other things, as well you know

Well those giant mosquito looking things otherwise known as May Flies are everywhere which means only one thing: Fowl Feast! The chickens and goslings (and cats) have been chasing the little buggers down all over the yard. I never knew what they were until last year when I was hand raising baby chimney swifts that got dumped at the clinic. With all the May flies swarming about, all I had to do was go out with a mason jar and harvest bugs a couple times a day. They are easy to catch (and harmless, thank god) and it's kind of addicting once you start hunting and catching them. I can completely relate to the obsession that has overtaken the fowl on the farm. The goslings weren't even interested in following me to the pond. They kept getting distracted because they just had to chase down a fly.

Today was not a good day for pictures, but look at the fly about to get crunched! RIP little fly.

The cats were very active today. I guess they only disappear during hot days. Today they ventured into the front yard.

One Cat.

Two Cat.

"How the hell did they do that?"

Hummer Time!

Today was wonderful! I rolled out of bed at about 9am, woken with sweet Yombi kisses. I made my coffee and sat on the back patio in the warm sunshine while the cats stretched out at my feet and my little goslings chirped to me. The bumble bees were buzzing around my head. One in particular was very loud and when I turned to see it, I saw not a bumble bee, but a humming bird! The small male must have come to tell me that he's back from Mexico and hungry. I immediately (well, okay, I finished my coffee first) went in and put on a pot of sugar water. By this evening there were already 3 or 4 at the feeders. Last year, at their peak, there were at least 30-40 hummers swarming my feeders at a time. I was going through 8 cups of sugar water a day.

After that I took the goslings down to the pond for their swimming lesson (like I need to teach them anything). As soon as we come down the hill and they see the water, they start running and jump right in. It's so cute. Yombi likes swimming lessons, too. Maddie prefers to life guard from the banks.

Mother Goose

Peroxide: Man's Best Friend's Best Friend

When I came home from work yesterday, Maddie and Yombi greeted me at the front door. I was surprised since I had shut them in the bedroom when I left...Well, not that surprised since Maddie has asserted her knowledge of door mechanics a few times before. Not only had she let herself and Yombi out of the bedroom, but she managed to open the back door that leads to the mudd room where I put the garbage until I can take it to a dumpster (garbage pickup out here is $30/Month and I can't even fill one herbie in a month.)

In the garbage was discarded blackberry cobbler and a rich dark chocolate torte that I ate maybe 1/3 of before deciding it was too old to snack on any longer. Both of these items were not to be found among the mess of trash strewn about the small doorway. Upon second glance, Maddie did look strangely bloated (as in "full"; not as in "gastric torsion").

I looked up recipes online for tortes and most of the flourless wonders contained anywhere from 9 to 16 oz (1 pound!!) of baker's chocolate. This was not a good situation for Maddie, although she seemed quite pleased with herself.

So I went to my little animal pharmacloset in the bathroom and pulled out a 10 cc syringe and Peroxide. I went outside, bottle in hand and called Maddie in my sweetest "You wanna treat?" voice. The dosage for dogs is about 5cc per 10lbs, but I've found that even half of that does the trick. So, I put 15cc down the hatch and waited. 7.4 minutes later: out came Chocolate torte, Blackberry Cobbler and half of the bag of treats from the top of the kennel that I should have used to restrain Maddie while I was gone. I've never been so happy to see vomit before. From what I could see, the entire chocolate torte was undigested on the ground before me.

I gave Maddie another 10cc's just to be sure we got everything out, then instead of dinner, she got a tablespoon of yogurt with a tablespoon of baking soda and some digestive enzymes to ward of gas and bloat (as in "gastric torsion"). She was a little queasy for the rest of the night. I suspect that was the result of the chocolate. Usually with peroxide they throwup and have a look of "What the $%!@ just happened?" for about 10 minutes, then go back to being their normal selves. So I think she must have digested just enough of the chocolate for it to make her queasy and thirsty, but she didn't have an elevated heartrate, wasn't restless and didn't have muscle spasms...and believe me, I was looking out for anything unusual.

Maddie slept through the night and is feeling much better and was very hungry this morning. I should add that my vet is only a phone call away and would meet me in the middle of the night in an emergency (and has before).

Every dog owner (I believe it works for cats, too, but don't quote me on this) should have 3% Peroxide for times like these. I can think of at least a few times a year that I use it, especially when they eat too much of something. With a boxer, bloat is always a concern, so I would rather empty their stomach of the food than wait to see if it causes problems later. They will throw up their entire stomach contents with this route. There are a few other tricks for getting dogs to vomit, but none of them are guaranteed to empty the stomach like Peroxide. This will only work within the first few hours after ingestion. After that, the food moves to the small intestine where toxins will be absorbed. I think the fact that Maddie ate all those treats off the kennel first kept the chocolate from going right through.

In other news, I finished laying laminate in the back room and am getting ready to start on the center hall. More on that later. I have pictures, but probably won't get around to posting them until I get my desk back in here...since I use the printer to plug my CF card into. So it's back to work for me.

Maddie's story

Since I'm using this as a kind of online scrapbook, I figured I'd share my Maddie story. She is my soul mate, my best friend, my everything and I am completely in love with her. She is also my dog.

Five years ago, at 21, after going through a traumatic breakup, I moved back in with my parents to try and sort out what was left of my life. I hadn't done much that was positive in the previous year. I dropped out of college, did a lot of drugs and lost myself in a first love that was going nowhere. I was completely empty inside and felt like a horrible person. I needed to do something that was positive and uplifting. I needed to do something good.

As an animal lover and someone who had no faith in people, I knew I wanted to do something animal related. I remembered stumbling on Boxer rescue a few years before and decided to see if they needed volunteers. It turns out that just that week, there had been a puppy mill bust in Northern Kentucky where over 100 dogs were discovered living in filthy, cramped cages. Some were kept in an old van where they had no water or food. The ground was littered with collars and rabies tags, from dogs who were stolen out of their backyards. Dead dogs were also found on the premises. I was told that foster homes were needed, as there was no where for the dogs to stay. I immediately sent in my application and waited impatiently to hear back.

Meanwhile, I went on the website to see what dogs were available. That's when I saw her. Hers was the first photo that came up. She was, in my eyes, beautiful. Her sad eyes seemed to mirror what I felt inside. She was empty, too. I must have spent hours looking at her pictures, dreaming of how I would take care of her and make her better. I felt that by filling her with love, I would also be filling my own heart.







The day finally came when I was to meet the women who ran the rescue. They were at Petsmart with some of the adoptable dogs and I introduced myself and asked who was available to be fostered (I was disappointed to see that my girl wasn't there, but I could understand why they wouldn't bring her out in public). I was answered with, "Well, who do you want?" I immediately asked if "Madge" was available. The woman smiled at me and said, "You're not a crazy car thief, are you?" I shrugged and smiled, "Ummm...no?" She reached out her hand and gave me her car keys, told me what her vehicle looked like and where it was parked and said Madge was out there. I was so thrilled. I couldn't believe that I was actually going to meet her. I had spent so many hours daydreaming that it seemed like she couldn't possibly be real.

I found the car and there she was sitting in the passenger seat. She managed a slow wag of her tail when I opened the door. I took her leash and let her out of the car. She, a dog of approximately 1 1/2 years old, moved like an enfeebled old lady who had only enough life left to keep her heart beating and air moving in and out of her lungs. Her eyes reflected pain and confusion and a deep sadness that could only come from heartbreak and trauma. Her puppies had been taken from her, since she had no milk to nourish them with (they were too sick and eventually all died). Her raw, hairless flesh was covered in sores caused by demodex mange. Her wrinkled, gray skin hung from her body and bunched at her ankles like leg warmers. Her paws were a puffy red that seemed to be the only visible outlet for her anger. To me, she was perfect and lovely.



I returned the woman's keys, bought food and a crate and toys and treats and took her home. For five weeks, I nursed her. I gave her tea tree oil baths every other day and then dabbed her skin with Safflower oil. She received daily doses of Ivermectin for the mange. I slowly increased her food intake, so as not to shock her ravished system with the nutrition that would save her. She moved like a tortoise; each slow and painful step using up precious energy. I spent most of my time sitting with her on her dog bed. She would crawl slowly onto my lap. Even though she couldn't comfortably fit her whole body on me, this is where she wanted to be. We were one in the same; aching, soulless creatures, clinging to life for what it was worth. I didn't see her greasy, scabby, infected skin and she didn't see my past mistakes. We slowly healed each other and came out with two shiny new souls, sparkling with love, though still scarred.



Watching Maddie heal, was like watching her age in reverse. She went from being a feeble old lady to being a goofy, playful and athletic dog. Her coat grew back a beautiful brindle...it's a miracle that it grew back at all. I was sure that she would be permanently scarred.



So, with time, we came to a point where things must move on. I made the decision to go to dog grooming school. And, because the condition of being able to foster in my mother's house was that I not adopt the dog - no matter how in love; I watched as Maddie's new family drove away, with her looking back at me through the open window of their mini van. I did not cry. I just accepted what was inevitable. Things move on.

Maddie had different feelings, however. She, who had been a well behaved lady in my mother's home, became something entirely different with her new family. She escaped from her kennel when left alone, kept the family up all night (until they finally let her sleep in the little girl's room), pooped daily on the family's heirloom oriental rug in the dining room and ran away only to be picked up later that day by animal control. They were a great family, but Maddie was not going to make things easy on them, so they made the difficult decision to give her back.

At this point, I was a few months into dog grooming school. Once I graduated, I would be able to have a dog. After speaking with the rescue, a wonderful volunteer agreed to foster Maddie until I graduated. Maddie was equally as naughty at her house and finally my mother said, "Oh, alright, you can keep her here." I brought Maddie home and she's never been a problem since. (As I type this, I just heard the crinkle of the treat bag on the top of the kennel. Maddie dropped it as soon as she saw me come through the doorway with that "la la la...How'd that get there?" look).

I truly believe that she was just fighting her way back to me. She wanted no one else and there will be no other for me. When I look at her, I see a deep, soulful creature, who is wise and knowing. She's one of a kind and I cherish every day that I have with her, though I know our days are numbered. One day, Maddie will leave this world and I can't imagine how I will go on without her. It is a cruel fact of nature that dogs live such short lives, but maybe that's why they give us so much while they are here.



*Update* check out: "I'm stunned"