For anyone following the blog– you may remember this post. About a week ago, we discovered that Paisley’s mom, Mystic had found her way back to a shelter after being adopted, returned and lost many times in the last almost 2 years. This last family had discovered too late that she is an energetic, intense dog and rather than returning her to the shelter (which they will ALL happily do, no questions asked), they listed her on Craigslist and gave her away. Which explains how they “don’t remember” who they gave her to.
Because of her connection to us and the fact her life has sucked this far, I took it upon myself to convince my Dad she needed to come live with us. He was resistant, as usual, but “Operation: Save Paisley’s Mom” was in full force. I am perfectly comfortable stooping to begging when it comes to saving lives. When it appeared Dad was immovable to her sad story, I stepped up my game. This included a kidnapped phone, a quick contact edit and a personalized ringtone, concluding in a phone call that lead to Mystic finally finding her way home with us.
Today, Mom and I traveled back to PAWS & More (she had been transferred back a few days ago), where she met Faith and Luka. We waited with bated breath, hoping that she would get along with them both enough to come home. Luckily, she did! It was heartwarming to see that, despite being shipped off and returned and dumped so many times, she still appears to be in good spirits and very loving. She does look like she wasn’t treated very well and she’s trying to please everyone, even though our expectations are simply for her to listen as best she can.
It amazes me how much of Paisley I see in her. From her tail, soft fur, to the way her tongue lolls out of her mouth. I look in her eyes and I see Paisley. I know she isn’t Paisley, and that was never the point of me wanting to adopt her. I wanted to give her a home that was stable and loving, where she would never have to worry about someone kicking her out, or leaving her behind. We at least understand what kind of personality and energy level she’s bound to have. In fact, we discovered pretty quickly what kind of energy level she has, as she figured out how to get the front door open almost 20 minutes after she got here. Running after someone for the first time in a very long time, definitely brought back memories.
I’m really glad she has a microchip. I’m sure we’ll be seeing that again.
I’m happy she’s happy now :0)
I have a car!!!
I'm so glad I have a car!!!
Oddly familiar...
I took a picture of Paisley, Christmas before last that looks just like this... Clearly she's family...
She was actually a very good car rider. She was quiet and kept to herself in the back seat. She wagged the whole way home and stared into passing cars as though she were telling them she had her own and was going home. She really is a sweet girl, even if she does need to work on her manners.
She handled all of this really well, even if she doesn't understand why we're doing it... AGAIN.
He likes the scratching...
And then he fell asleep against my pop bottle...
I really hope they get along. It’ll be good if they do.
Hopefully I’ll have time to get real pictures of her soon. I’m just happy she’s here now.
So last night, my Mom and I were looking through the adoptable pets list of some of the shelters in the area. I’m not sure why we do that as often as we do, but I suppose we just like to look at the little fuzzy faces and wish that we could do more for them. Typically when we find a sweet face, we try it on Dad and he says no and we’re back to just looking. But last night was a little different:
Does that look like anyone we know?
(My beautiful Paisley)
That’s because it’s Paisley’s mom.
When we were perusing the lists we saw a Husky/Lab mix adult female up for adoption– We thought it was a little strange to see that particular breed combo again, but didn’t think anything of it until I saw the dog’s name is Mystic. Which was the name of the Husky/Lab female that had given birth to Paisley and her brothers and sisters back in July of 2010 at PAWS & more. I told Mom it was too much of a coincidence that this dog was the same breed mix, the same name and was almost a carbon copy (albeit, older version) of Paisley. When we read the description, all it told us was that Mystic had been brought to the shelter and a microchip had been found but the owner had not. The way it was worded, it sounded like they had not been able to get any information about the owner that had been attached to the chip.
I’ve heard of stories where the dogs have gotten too far away from the area they were chipped in and the information has been partitioned to THAT area, making identification difficult. So I thought maybe I could help if that was the case and sent an e-mail to what I’m assuming is the director of the shelter Mystic is currently at:
Hello!
My name is Jaina– I was looking at your adoptable pet list when I noticed a somewhat familiar face. In September of 2010, my family adopted a Husky/Lab puppy from PAWS & More Animal Shelter in Washington Iowa. She had been born at the shelter to two Husky/Lab mixes, one of which was a female named Mystic. Mystic had been adopted just a few days before we brought Paisley (our puppy) home. I noticed that your description of her included her having a microchip (something PAWS & More offers with every adoption) but that you were having trouble locating the owner. Although I cannot be completely sure, since I never met her in person and only saw her from afar, I am almost positive it’s the same dog. She looks like a carbon copy of my Paisley. I don’t know if this will help you, but I know that when we adopted Paisley, PAWS & More recorded all of our information, including her microchip number. Perhaps you could contact them to see if they can reunite her with her family.
Unfortunately, our Paisley passed away this passed November due to an undiagnosed heart condition. She was a joy in our household and we miss her dearly; it would make us so happy to see her mother reunited with her forever home if it is indeed the same Mystic. If you have the time to let us know if this is the case, we would be delighted to hear from you. We know how much happiness our fuzzy family members bring us, I can only imagine Mystic’s family is feeling great sadness at her being missing.
Thank you for your time,
Jaina
I honestly didn’t know if it was going to help or if it would make a difference. In fact I wasn’t expecting an answer at all this morning, since the shelter is closed on Sundays and they don’t open till noon on Monday (shelters always have such odd hours) but I got a response that they wanted my phone number. At first I wasn’t sure if they thought I was Mystic’s owner pulling a fast one or what, but when I got on the phone, the heartbreak just kept getting stronger.
According to the woman I spoke to, Mystic had been found in the area and the microchip had sent them to get information from PAWS & More (confirming it was Paisley’s mom) but the owners that had been attached to the chip, had stated they had “given her away to a new family, but couldn’t remember who they gave her to”.
I don’t know about you– but if I was “giving away” one of my fuzzy babies, I would KNOW every detail about who I was giving them to. And the only way I would be doing that is if I was TOTALLY incapable of taking of care of them myself. Anyone who knows me or has seen this blog knows I have many animals and although I work two jobs, they’re only part time and I’m not exactly making the big bucks; but I think it’s pretty clear my pets aren’t exactly suffering for anything. But if it did come to that, I wouldn’t just give them to some joe-schmo who said they wanted them. That kind of story makes my Gibbs-Gut go off and tells me that this family didn’t give Mystic away, they dumped her and now they don’t want to take responsibility for it.
Regardless of your situation, surrendering a dog to a shelter isn’t difficult to do. They’re happy to help those animals that need it and it’s far more humane than just letting a dog rot on a street corner. Granted I don’t know the real story, but I know people and this is what happens: They walk into a shelter, see pretty blue eyes and striking pointed ears and that’s it– they’re in love. They don’t take into account that this particular dog is not only Labrador (so FULL of energy) but is also Husky (so FULL of energy and a deep desire to RUN) and that although they’re sweet, loyal, loving dogs, they honestly have been built to run and leap and escape and cost you hundreds in shelter fees. If you don’t understand that– don’t get a Husky, or a Labrador– or for that matter any dog, because you don’t get it.
So now Mystic is right back where she started, just in a different shelter. They had had trouble getting her adopted at PAWS and only just got her a “forever home” a few days before we adopted Paisley.
Hasn’t she been through enough? She’s a sweet dog, according to the woman I spoke to today and at first she cringes like she’s been beaten, but apparently her temperament and attitude is similar to that of Paisley and it just breaks my heart. I don’t understand how people can so senselessly throw their pets away, not when they don’t do anything to deserve it– they don’t know anything more than what’s in their hearts and souls to do, that’s why we as human beings, the supposedly ‘master species’ are supposed to care for them and keep them healthy and safe.
So here’s my warning people– when you adopt a pet, it’s for life. You can’t get it and say “just kidding” and if you decide that’s what’s going to happen, be a grown up about it– take it back to the shelter so someone who’s able to take care of them can. Don’t let them suffer because of your failings or any honest hardships that may befall you. That’s not fair.
I’m sorry about your mommy, little one. I wish there was something I could do. Miss you.
I slept with your Hippo on my pillow last night. It was one of your favorites. I miss you Baby Puppy. I wish you were here to make me laugh, to toss a piggy on my plate. I wish you were here to grow up, grow old, be you.
Keep everyone laughing in Heaven my funny puppy.
Love,
Jaina
P.S. Buddha misses you too. Your little jailbreak buddy.
Since I started working at the daycare and having to get up as early as I do everyday, my stomach has decided, that although eating breakfast after 8am, usually means I feel like I’m going to die, not eating anything around 6:30am, also means I’m going to die. My stomach puts up a racket and will not stop until I put something into it.
I’m not really a fan, since I usually prefer to sleep as late as I can before I become late for work and that typically means I have no time to eat. Sometimes, if we have them, I’ll grab some Mini Muffins to stave off the bubbling attack of doom my tummy will thrust upon everyone else in the area, but if we don’t, I’m out of luck. So my latest tradition has been stopping by McDonald’s on Thursday mornings to get the Egg McMuffin of deliciousness and perhaps a few extra Sausage McMuffins of deliciousness for two fuzzy faces we all know and love.
I know, I know– You’re all thinking, “But, Jaina– It’s Wednesday, are you so befuddled you can’t even remember what day it is?”
To which I would reply, yes– I am. However, tomorrow, I have a buttload of things to do and I’m not entirely sure I’d have time to stop and get it and eat it and let them eat theirs. So, rather than pull my hair out over figuring it out and live with two pairs of eyes burning holes into me because I didn’t do it.
We did it today.
That was an unnecessarily long explanation, wasn’t it? I’m doing it again.
Anyway. Just so you know, this is a sometimes food. I know all the experts are crying and shaking their fists at me because I’m clogging my dog’s arteries. So let me stop them now and say– Trust me, whatever arteries I’m clogging with some Sausage McMuffins are already halfway to hardened with all the crap they manage to find and eat without me knowing until it’s too late. Let me reward them for being good for ONCE, once a week. It makes them happy and they burn off enough energy during the day that I think it’ll be fine. They’re in better shape than I will ever be.
Typically I try to avoid Halloween as best I can. It’s never been a holiday I’ve been interested in and frankly, I think it stopped being a holiday the minute Snickers bars became the traditional meal. I don’t like the underlying macabre, deathly tones, I hate haunted mazes and houses, I don’t like that it gives people permission to try and scare other people.
I do like seeing the little kiddies dressed up in their costumes, if I’m going to like anything about Halloween it’s that. But, in the last couple of years, my family, meaning my Mom, has really gotten into it, at least in the realm of decorating.
We live on a particularly short street (it takes about two minutes to walk it and five seconds to drive it), which is occupied by a lot of people who can’t be bothered to at least hand out candy. Except for our lovely neighbors to the left of us– This means, of course, there are only two lights on, Halloween night and therefore the kidlets know the candy swag they may get is going to be limited. Which is sad. I remember most years there being enough people to count on one hand. So, now that Mom’s gotten into decorating, we stand a better chance of getting more trick or treaters and now that Halloween is on Sunday, I should be home for prime candy giving time.
We have fog machines. That alone should be epic.
Anyway– I thought, even though I don’t really care for Halloween, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, even if it’s just with the family. And because I spend enough money on them, they can just suffer:
Someone's going to be a pumpkin...
And now she won't talk to me...
I guess today was a better day to be a pumpkin...
Yup-- Still a pumpkin.
We have lots of costumes at my work– Originally Paisley was going to be a bat, it had a adorable little wings and was poofy, but I realized it also had the ears and I think Paisley would have chewed her own foot off if it meant not having to wear a costume with a head piece. Plus her ears are already bat-like. So– pumpkin it was.
Faith was going to be a dinosaur from the beginning. It was purple, had a tail and it’s adorable on her. Duh.
Her ears are too floppy to keep the head piece up on it's own-- Time for safety pins!
Does I wook beautomous Momma?!
Tail! Wait... Tail? Tail?
AHHHH!!! DINOSAUR!!! RAWWWRRR!!!
You may now howld de paw.
I love that Faith likes to dress up. Whenever she gets a new collar she races through the house to show everyone and if it’s sparkly, even better. She always did like to dress up, so maybe she won’t hate me too much for making her wear it. She’ll get extra cookies for that.
Ah yes, the natural order of things-- A Pumpkin chasing a Dinosaur.
Can we have dinner now?
Yeah, I know Paisley is probably going to hate me for making her put it on again on Halloween and for much longer than this photo shoot took. But guess what, you only live once. If you wanna dress your dog up like a pumpkin, do it. She’ll get over it when cookies are involved. Though, I might have a problem– I saw a photo of a Guinea Pig in a costume and now I really want to get one for Buddha. As if I don’t have enough animals that aren’t going to like me in a few days. Maybe Etsy has something I can get here really fast… Hmmm.
Anyway, Happy Halloween all– even if it is a little early. I will definitely post pictures of the event.
I’ve always been one to say that pets are truly the answer to one’s depression, whether it be a short-lived sadness, or chronic. I have never been more sure of that statement until recently.
In the last few months, my family and myself have faced soul-hardening heart-ache. The death of my Grandfather, the loss of Yuri and other hurts. More recently, I, myself have endured a heartbreak I would readily sell my soul to never go through again.
Although my pain is not physical, the drain has often left me exhausted and not wanting to do much. I’ve been disappointed in myself for letting it bring me to this point, but I imagine others who have felt as I have, know it isn’t easy to drag yourself up by your bootstraps, like it’s no big deal.
However, because of this, I have been privy to the joys that are my pets. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would roll their eyes and plenty of those who would agree. Either way, I have found myself admiring how perceptive they all are, even the little ones, (I’m looking at you, Ianto) that seem to know that I haven’t been feeling well about life and have been sweeter than I could have ever asked for.
Faith has always been empathic to my feelings and since day one has been there to snuggle and provide me with supportive kisses throughout the last few weeks. And, well, life. The day she’s gone, I will mourn the greatest friend I’ve ever had– I hope, upon hope that isn’t for a very long time.
Faith is just one example, as she is closest to me in everything– She has seen me scream, mull, rage and cry. The others, though not as easily privy to my emotional state, still provide me with a comfort I cannot express through words.
I had a customer come into work and explain how having a dog (or pet) is cheaper than paying a therapist and I can only agree with that. I find myself seeing that every time my emotional state is less than stellar– Snuggling with Buddha while watching a movie, letting Uno run around on my shoulders, Ianto kick-boxing my fingers when I feed him, my bunnies coming to bump my hand with their noses when I leave them treats, even Paisley and her crazy antics, just to make someone react.
No matter how I’m feeling, no matter how alone I feel or am– I know I have them. They might just seem like balls of fur, but really, they’re little counselors and they don’t even know it. I highly recommend their services if ever you find yourself alone and sad.
I owe them so much:
:0}
Watson
Baxter
Uno
Naht hehlping.
Life may change, I may change, the people I love may change– But I don’t think my babies will ever change. They’re my constants (Well, and I suppose my parents too :0) and I would not give them up for anything. Maybe I’m weird, maybe people think that means I need a life– Maybe I do, but I’m happy that I have the love I have with them in my life.
“Throw the really disgusting dirty pig on the girl’s plate and I’ll get the last, completely unsatisfying bites!”
It worked. And now she’s trying to throw disgusting dirty pig onto anything edible– Case in point, I had a little cereal for dessert and had to fend of her flyby attacks. A few tries in, she very nearly got the frigging pig into my Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
You know how I said this year has been kinda difficult? And that it really hasn’t gotten any easier as of late? Yeah.
Paisley’s not helping.
This morning, I called Paisley up to stay with me until I was ready to leave for an interview. I’ve been having to do this because dork-face has started getting into all sorts of trouble when she’s by herself and if she’s not doing that, she’s sitting outside my door crying to come in. Well, when I called her, it seemed like my call was simply echoing down the stairs and that my command to have her come join me was being unheeded. This isn’t particularly unusual, seeing as she has selective hearing and will often ignore anyone who tries to tell her what to do. She’s stubborn and if she doesn’t want to do what you want her to do, then it won’t be done and that’s kind of how it’s been since she’s moved in.
I continued to call her, adding in all the pet names and hullabaloo that normally gets her to at least acknowledge my existence and… Nothing. At this point, she’d have run up and down the stairs about fifty times just to prove she can and express her prowess in “Stair Running- X-TREEEEEEME”. Only this time, she still hadn’t made an appearance.
Naturally, I became a little concerned that something had happened to her, but I couldn’t really imagine what, as my mother had only left a few minutes prior to me calling her and even Paisley isn’t capable of complete housing destruction in five minutes. So I started down the stairs, only to have Paisley shoot out of nowhere and up the stairs.
On three legs.
As soon as I saw this, I had flashbacks to when Faith had greeted me at the door when we lived in an apartment, in a similar fashion, right after she had leaped off my bed at a bad angle and almost annihilated her knee cap. When Paisley got to the top of the stairs she started crying and tried putting her leg down only to immediately pull it back up for fear of putting weight on it. I laid her down and started checking for injuries that even a stay at home pet owner could diagnose, to find nothing particularly out of the ordinary, other than my puppy laying in front of me in pain. Nothing appeared broken, her leg would still bend though she was hesitant to do it, there were no sores or bloody gashes or oddly bending toes. Just her whimpering.
Not knowing what else to do, I called my Mom on her way to work and left her a message, hoping she would get it and maybe give me some advice, since she knows a bit more about animal anatomy and such than I do. Unfortunately I had a very important interview I had been trying to prepare for before this happened and I couldn’t get a hold of Mom, so I made Paisley comfortable and hoped she would get back to me when she could. When I was finally able to get a hold of her, it was after my interview and I was just walking in the door. To find Paisley, once again, bouncing off the walls at her usual 90 miles per hour.
She was still limping a bit, but was no longer crying, so apparently the worst of it was this morning. Still, Mom made an appointment with the vet. In the meantime, I had finally received the gift I had purchased for Mom over a week previously and had been anxiously awaiting to surprise her with. I wanted it to be nice for her, so I decided to make her bed and put the present there for her to find when she got home from work. Wellll, Faith and Paisley decided to help me– Er… Get in the way more like.
Um... I'm stuck.
She of course, waited, until I had Mom’s bedspread ready to let fly and got caught in it as I tried to straighten it out on the bed. She’s always so helpful…
No, really... I can't see...
That would be a dog face, if said dog hadn’t of gotten stuck in the blanket.
I'm pretty sure she's got the pathetic look down, even when it's covered in chenille
It became obvious after a few minutes of this that she was having trouble “following the light” as it were, so Faith and I mounted a rescue mission:
I think Faith might have left her under there if I hadn’t of intervened, but then again, I might of too if I went through half of what Paisley does to her. Undeterred from her escapade, Paisley continued “helping”.
I will BITE YOU! Even if you did just help me escape!
And help…
I'll rooollll over heerrre-- Oh, I'm sorry, were you trying to straighten that? Oh, well...
And help…
And I'll wipe my face on thisssss... Oh, you were working here too? Could you just pick a spot?! Seriously!
Annnnd finally I just gave up.
:0}
Because there’s really no working around this face :0*
Finally, Mom got home and was able to take her to her appointment. Unfortunately, the vet we normally see was not available so Paisley got to meet with the owner of the office, who is– shall we say less than pleasant to deal with on most occasions. Often finding fault with us if were a little behind on shots or dental check-ups and so on. What he didn’t bother to see is that Yuri’s medications, surgeries and then final diagnosis has been a bit of a hardship, so bringing our other dog’s in for what could potentially be $300 worth of vaccinations and other details has been something we’ve had to put on the back burner. At, least one of the vet techs there was aware of our situation and let him know, that our love for Yuri has caused some lasting effects… So essentially, get off your frigging high-horse.
We can’t all be so lucky to have a successful veterinary practice and buy a new truck every few years.
However, we aren’t the only ones who dislike seeing him– Paisley took one look at him and growled. Which lead to some time muzzled as the doctor poked and prodded, but on the inside and at home, we’re all very proud of her for being a good judge of character. Just as proud as when Yuri was taken in for his first round of testing at the beginning of all his health issues and ended up peeing on the same vet’s freshly washed truck…
^..^ <– Yuri’s smug face.
I certainly don’t condone dog’s being naughty and rude, nor do I necessarily condone your dog defacing someone’s property, even if it’s something that probably won’t even be noticed– But when the staff seems to appreciate your dog’s efforts, that might be a clue their boss is mean.
Well, I guess this time around, even though she growled and he tried to scold my mother, he seemed to warm up to Paisley– This happens a lot, actually. She’s totally horrible and often humiliating to be seen in public with, but when people meet her, those baby blues and cute little smile get people to do back flips for her.
(Not me though… I don’t fall for it anymore… Nope… I didn’t give her any of my fries during dinner… Just one… Three.)
He started loving her up I guess and gave her the good treats, after deciding she had strained a tendon in her leg, which would explain the limping. Even though, when she got there, she apparently stopped. Kinda like when your kid has a 110 degree fever and you rearrange your schedule to get that very last appointment availability and then you get there and they’re suddenly a balmy 98 degrees and the doctor’s like “Why are you here?”… Just like that. Despite her not cooperating on the “She’s really hurt!” front, he agreed she probably did land on it funny and that she might have strained a tendon in her knee/leg. Like Faith, who limps when she’s played too hard or jumping too much or has a puppy hanging off her legs. So now we have to observe her for 10 days, keep her quiet for 10 days, keep her from climbing stairs for 10 days and make sure she’s not hopping on any furniture for 10 days.
Pretty much, we have to preform an exorcism and perhaps a miracle, for the next 10 days.
I’m hoping that she’s not permanently broken and will bounce back more easily since she’s a youth, compared to Faith who was already 8 or 9 years old when she hurt herself. The vet doesn’t want to take x-rays (probably because they’d need a horse tranquilizer just to slow her down) and he doesn’t want to put her on medication unless it’s absolutely necessary. She’s only one, she doesn’t need a pill box of her own just yet.
So, until she gets an okiedokie from the vet that she can play rough again, keep the baby in your thoughts. Despite there being days I’d really love to strangle her, I really do love her and would be heartbroken if something worse were to happen or she was in pain all the time. Hey, I have a bum knee, I know how it feels, wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially a little one.
So think of the brat for the next few days, maybe your happy thoughts will make her feel better!
So, our little baby turned one– She actually turned one on the 16th, but this thing called WORK, kept preventing us from celebrating and well, I think we forgot too. We’re bad, I know! Anyway, since Mom and I got off work around the same time, we decided we would take Paisley to the pet store and let her choose whatever toys/treats she wanted– We didn’t expect for her to want:
a Parakeet...
Mom and I tried to draw her attention back to the faux-furred, squeakable kind of toys, but she was not to be swayed. She just watched these guys for probably 15 minutes while we were picking out her presents. She couldn’t get enough– I joked that Paisley was probably wondering if the green ones tasted like mint and then Mom added that the blue ones were probably peppermint and the green/yellows were lemon-lime.
If you think we’re being mean, I should probably warn you, I have no love for Parakeets. I think they’re pretty and all, but they are probably the ONE pet I would never, ever have. They’re annoying, loud, they bite (to which your only consolation is when they DON’T draw blood) and they’re impossibly hard to catch when they get away from you. How do I know? I spent 30 minutes of my life trying to net one when he got out of his cage for the THIRD TIME. As a family friend says they are “the little brainless, extremely mobile twits. They are SO aggravating.” To which, I could not agree more.
Anyway, so once she got over her Parakeet fetish for two seconds, we got her to look around the treat aisle, until she found what has to be the leg of a Wooly Mammoth. Like, somewhere in the world, someone is breeding them and we just don’t realize they’re being sold in the dog treat aisle.
THAT ONE!! THE EXTRA JUICY, STAINY ONE!!!
Fortunately we were able to pry her away from that one as gentleman walked by with a few bags of cookies that apparently the Blonde One could smell, because she pretty much followed him down the aisle. So we found the brand he had been carrying and they’re much less stainy and wayyy more stinky.
We were in the process of choosing some more treats when a lady that comes into the store every day with her two dogs (though I admit I’m blanking on her name) passed us by. Paisley saw her dogs and immediately had to say hi. So, Maggie and Jasper spent some time with us while she chatted with us about this and that and the concerns she’s had with Maggie. Maggie, by the way, is probably the sweetest dog, ever. She’s a terrier so she has SOOOO much energy, but she’s friendly and has to say hi to everyone, no matter what their size (read: she ran straight over to a Pit Bull and stuck her nose up the poor gal’s behind… If that’s not trust, I don’t know what is…). Jasper on the other hand is pretty reserved. He only gets excited for people he really knows and stays quietly next to his Mom while she’s chatting. The patience this woman has with both of them is a blessing to see, considering so many animals are essentially thrown away because their owners just don’t get them.
Maggie's the one with the big smile on her face.
I don’t really like small dogs, but these guys are some of the few exceptions. They’re sweet and very well behaved, even if Maggie does like to get a little personal.
After saying our farewells to Maggie and Jasper, we checked out– I impressed my mother with my employee discount and then we headed to the one place, Paisley was truly looking forward to:
MCDONALD'S!!!!
She got her own Happy Meal so she could have french fries (which she loves dearly) and then we got Faith and Yuri their own hamburgers so they could celebrate in style with their young padawan.
Yeah, Baby!
The birthday girl forgets her manners in the excitement... Or, this how she always eats...
Burger. Mine. Now. Do it.
Ooooh, I can't handwe de suspeeeennnnsssse! HAMBURGERRRRR!
They aren’t spoiled at all. Once they finished their burgers, we opened up Paisley’s toys. Which, I’m sure will be dead in about a week, if not less. Don’t bet money on it, you’ll lose.
Faith was a bit jealous and decided to sneak a peek.
She has like 5 Bobos, all of varying size.
Notice how they’re all covered in fur and they’ve been out of the bag for about 5 minutes.
This one is my favorite-- It's a bitty dragon!
She got her own Sock Monkey, since she likes mine so much!
Not a Parakeet, but close enough that the ASPCA won't come after us.
And of course, the treats!
I don't know how anything with a cheese flavoring could be healthy, but if it keeps her out of my Cheesy Poofs!
They look like little Dachshunds!
This one had an eye... Or a bug.
I think we all had a good time, Yuri's still looking for the Pup Corn
Paisley seems to have enjoyed her birthday, even if it is belated. As the baby, she definitely was more spoiled than the others were on their birthdays. Somehow, I’m going to have to keep up for Faith’s birthday as we’re going out next week to celebrate hers! I’m never going to save enough money for a house! Eeek! But, at least they’re happy and Paisley most of all as she’s figured out alllll the new toys are for her–
It's like the kid at school who licks the bottoms of all the desserts so no one will eat them... Isn't it?
We might have to work on the sharing thing.
Well, I’m exhausted. Way too much partying for me, that’s for sure and I’m positive Paisley’s going to have a Pup Corn hangover in the morning. Good thing she can sleep in!
Until then,
Jaina & Faith & Yuri & Paisley & Ianto & Uno & Baxter & Watson & Buddha (and because I forgot last post) & Snot
So, my Mom came up with this idea to help support PAWS & More Shelter (and for anyone that’s new, that’s where Paisley was born and lived until we adopted her)– As of late, the shelter has not been doing well and has sent out several e-mails in attempt to gather donations and interest in charity events for them. It’s unfortunate that things are not going so well financially– They’ve been having trouble buying supplies for the animals and payroll is dangerously close to not being available.
So, if you happen to have a few spare dollars, maybe click their link and find the PayPal donation button?
My Mom and I are both sad to hear this and wish we could do more and in an attempt to do so, Mom and I are opening an Etsy shop devoted to PAWS & More. My Mom will be making purses with a “Paisley Theme” and I will be making felties that look like a few of Paisley’s favorite toys. In addition, we will be selling a variety of gourmet dog biscuits. 100% of the proceeds will be sent to PAWS & More and hopefully it will help a little.
In any case, Mom and I have never made anything like dog biscuits before, so we’ve been doing a little testing and have made some progress. We baked up a storm this past weekend and then yesterday Dad made some comment cards for the treats for people to fill out. We had some of Mom’s work friends test our experiments out on their own poochies and it appears no one has died.
Yet.
It was an interesting experience. Hopefully we’ll find out soon which ones we should focus on or try again or maaaybe, we’re just so awesome all the cookies are awesome now and we just need to mix up more. Chyeah. Anyway, we’re waiting on some cookie cutters, so the following photos are just of the testers. They’re all generally the same shape, but in the future they’ll be bones, hydrants and other dog related things. So enjoy! It was funnnnn!
The ingreeediantttttts!
Cheesy Cookies, coming up.
Before being baked...
Baked.
Yes... He did indeed try one. See how shocked the furry kids were?
He said and I quote: “You know– With a little gravy…”
"Dwop it wight hewe Dad!!!"
Peanut Butter Oatmeal Cookies before baking
Baked
It was only after this photo was taken that Jaina realized she had been misspelling "biscuit" all day...
We took notes.
Banana Biscotti... Before it was baked.
So I guess we’ll see how it’s going to turn out. We’ve heard a few good things so far. We can only hope folks will have a kind heart and buy lots of things so we can help PAWS & More out.
