Uno

It feels like, every other time I post on this blog anymore, it’s to write about the death of one my beloveds.  This post is no different and it’s tearing me up.  Every time I get comfortable and think that life has settled down for a while, something else happens and I guess this time was no different.

On July 11th, 2011.  My beloved gerbil, Uno, passed away.

The days before she died, I was away in Minnesota, so I don’t know if she was feeling unwell during the time I was gone or if it was just one of those things.  I had gotten back on the 11th and all seemed well, she greeted me in her usual fashion, though admittedly I wasn’t focusing on anyone in particular.  I was tired from the trip and was trying to get my things prepared for work.  I went to bed fairly late and fell asleep without hearing anything coming from her cage– however this was not unusual as she often went to bed and woke up with me.  Around 5:15 in the morning, I was awoken by a crack of thunder and the sounds of rain and hail beating against the house.  It took me a few moments to realize that not only was it storming, the warning sirens up the street from our house were also going off.  Without having a radio in my room and my weather updates telling me it was just a severe storm, I wasn’t sure what it was, but bundled Buddha and Dharma into their “storm carrier” and went to get Evie and Uno from their cages.  Although Evie was peering at me from her bed, I realized there was no movement from Uno’s, something that wasn’t typical, so I popped open the door of her house expecting her to shoot out and come stare at me.  It took a few moments of me feeling around the cage, before I realized that she was laying on top of her chew house and she wasn’t moving.

It took me completely by surprise and hit me very hard when I realized she was gone.  Of course it was the worst time to come to the conclusion and I was forced to rush Evie into her ball and wrap Uno in a towel so I could get everyone downstairs.  I sat downstairs, very upset about the storms, which I hate with a passion just because it causes a pile up of things that could go wrong and that my gerbil was gone but I couldn’t do much to mourn her at the moment because I still had to find out if the rest of us were needing to worry about our safety.  Finally we decided that the reports were telling us it was strong winds and rain but that we were not in danger of a tornado (doesn’t feel like it watching the news as many people’s homes and property were damaged) and decided to go back to bed.  I had to go upstairs minus one of my loves.

Even though it was almost 6am and I had work the next day I found it very hard to sleep.  I hadn’t put Buddha and Dharma back in their house yet, so I set the carrier on my bed and just let them come out at their own pace.  For once, they were cuddling and I made mention to them that I kind of would like some cuddling too.  I know it seems silly but when I said that, Dharma perked up and stepped a paw out on my comforter, wheeked at me softly and when I motioned for her attention she waddled (yes, they waddle, it’s normal) over to me and snuggled up with me, still wheeking as I pet her.  Buddha, not to be outdone by her younger sister came out to join us a few moments later, but was bold enough to climb up my tummy and stick her face under my chin.  I think we stayed like that for an hour, just cuddling.

Animals are perceptive and I think even the toughest critics would have a hard time denying that.  They both knew I was sad and I cried for a good long while.  I’m not ashamed to say it.  Faith knew too and stayed close to the bed, just watching us and knowing that it hurt me, whatever it was.  I went to work, where my kids were less perceptive to my depression and I spent a very long day trying not to think about there being one less fuzzy face waiting for me when I got home.  When I finally did get home from all of that, my Dad helped me bury my little friend in the backyard, next to some of our peony bushes.  Appropriate as peonies are my favorite flowers and she was one of my favorite gerbils.

I acknowledge that some people will think it’s dumb to be so attached to an animal.  I suppose if you don’t have any or you don’t have an interest in connecting with any, that would make sense.  I would like to think, even though I’m not a member of PETA or even vegetarian, that I do tend to connect with the animals I meet and especially the ones that have come to live with me.  Every single one of them has a personality and I’ve seen it in some way to the point I’ve wanted them to become a part of my family.  Uno was no different.

I met Uno in January of 2010 in the quiet area of the pet store I work at on the weekends.  She had fallen after escaping from a tote in the quarantine area of the store for new animals and was thought to have lost her left eye.  Her eye required daily cleaning and would most likely have to be adopted out because she was no longer in “prime condition”.  In the few weeks I had to get to know her, I knew she needed to join my family of furry friends.  Earning the moniker, Uno.  When I brought her home, her eye hadn’t gotten any better and I was told that likely it never would– it just didn’t seem normal that it would need to be cleaned out everyday with the kind discharge it had.  I took her to the vet and for the first time in my life, spent $66 for an appointment for a gerbil.  There, I was told she not only still had her eye, it was viable and the only reason it was still swollen was because she had Ringworm.  Had I not adopted her and brought her to the vet, she most likely would have died from lack of proper treatment.

Uno brought me a lot of joy.  I had never had a gerbil and had to learn how to care for them very soon after bringing her home.  Did you know, when you have a gerbil, you either get a chewer, a runner, or both?  And you don’t know which one it is until you buy them lots of toys only to find out they don’t want them?  I found out fairly quickly, Uno was a chewer– a beaver in gerbil clothing.  I had gotten her a lovely two-story home, with a “fun ramp” and a nice, quiet wheel.  Only much to my dismay, the wheel was turned to plastic chips and the ramp could no longer be qualified as a ramp after 24 hours.  To which she had to learn to jump up to the second story and decided the nice new *metal* wheel I bought her, was much more fun for sleeping in than running in.  She did however, adore the Nut Knots I brought home from work, where the prize for chewing through a maze of wood chews was a little nut in the middle.  She went through several small ones in a very short amount of time.  Usually two or three to Evie’s one and she always wanted them.  Finally, I just bought the size that was meant for Guinea Pigs and rabbits in the hopes they would last longer.  They did and Uno’s eyes would always get wide when I set one in her house, like I had just given her the grail of chewy toys.

She was an excellent doorman, always greeting people when they walked in.  I positioned her cage just so she could see who walked in.  Even if she was in her bed, if she heard the door open, she would (as my Dad calls it) “up periscope” to see if she knew the newcomer.  She hated running in her exercise ball and if I put her in it and set her on the floor, she would sit there, wringing her paws, wondering when she would ever get back home to her Nut Knot.  Her dislike of running and maybe my being a softie when it comes to treats, led her to be a bit overweight and although I cut down on her treats and fed her no more than anyone else, she still was a little chunky for a gerbil.  I always joked, I was the only person in the U.S. who had a gerbil with a thyroid condition and that if chewing on things counted for exercise, she would be tiny.

She was a messy roommate to be sure– I would clean her house and make everything nice, just in time for her to kick everything out onto my floor.  I went through three birdcage covers just to staunch the mess, but I would buy a million if it meant she was still here.  I can’t even think about cleaning out her cage right now, for fear of starting to cry again.  I miss her so much already.  I think this will always be the worst part of being a pet owner.  Losing one of your loves and getting over it.  I will always remember my little Uno and I wish upon wish that she is happy wherever she is now.

Uno

I love you, Uno.  I always will and I hope you’re happy and that someday we’ll see each other again.  Miss you.

-Mom

Holidays are… Stressful?

So, a lot of things happened this 4^th of July.

It was not only America’s birthday, but my Mother’s (I won’t tell you which one for fear of death).  We got to visit our family, including two of my cousin’s and their families that we haven’t seen in a very long time.  It was overall, a very nice day and I was happy to have it off, because this summer already seems like it’s lasting forever when it’s only just begun.

I do remember the days I longed for school to be out and I was free from the academic for a short while.  Though, that was before I was an “adult” and being paid to care for other people’s children, instead of someone caring for me.  Now I’m actually looking forward to school starting again.

How times change.

Anyway, it was a good day and I was happy to see my family and enjoy good food and a relaxing day.

That is, until we got home.

The dogs had been good, despite it being a long day in the house and us forgetting to put the trashcan out of reach, which I’m sure was a temptation beyond all temptations.  We let them out to do their business for a while and when it was time for dinner, we discovered something was amiss.

Luka and Mystic were gone.

Dumb

Dumber

Apparently, someone had come into the backyard during the day and left the gate open, which of course gave the dogs the opportunity to run away.  Before I go off on a rant about inconsiderate boobs, let me tell you something that will shock you.

Luka came back.

It happens!!

Let me allow that to sink in for a moment.

……………………

Are you scraping your mouth up off the floor?  I was.  Mom wants everyone to think that he wanted to be good and came back for that, but in all honesty.  He hadn’t been fed yet.  It was, as we call it at our house, “dog o’clock” and Luka most likely realizing that with his rumbling tummy.  Regardless of his motives, I am very proud of him for coming back when he could have easily run and been in danger of being hit by a car.  He was a good boy, albeit motivated, boy.

Mystic on the other hand, didn’t seem to care it was Dog o’clock, one way or another and headed for the hills.  Although generally she’s a very good dog, she’s spent so much time going from family to family to family her training has been limited.  When the opportunity to explore arose, she took it.  It was just a horrible day for it to happen.  She had already been gone for half an hour and could be anywhere.  All of us piled into our cars and spent over an hour searching our neighborhood.  I, of course, was in tears most of that time, thinking about all the things that might happen to her.  She’s afraid of loud noises and raised voices, which—it’s the 4^th of July.  That’s pretty much all that happens.  I was afraid that she would get scared and run into traffic and that I would find her lying in the street.  I’ve also heard stories of cretins stealing people’s dogs right out of their backyards and using them in dog fighting rings.  Mystic might look and feel like a tank—but she wouldn’t hurt a fly.  I can’t even imagine her going through something like that and so the thought made me twice as worried.  I had been around our neighborhood what felt like six hundred times and frustration was beginning to set in.  I decided one more time around the elementary school and then I would just have to go home and see if I could leave a message for the animal shelter.  So I head back that way and guess who comes a derp, derping up the street?

My darling tank of a dog.

Derp.

I threw open the door and hollered at her to get in the car, to which she obliged and we finally got to go home.  And I had to fix my make-up.  She did what I figured she was going to do, head for a playground.  She loves kids and people, but I wasn’t sure of her patterns since she hasn’t been with us that long and she hasn’t run since we got her.

I just want to say, I’m used to having to track down dogs.  It’s not the first time someone has wandered away and it’s not the first time it’s made me have a meltdown.  However, someone was in our yard.  I don’t know if they were there to steal something or simply back there to find a lost golf-ball but either way—thanks for being a jerk; because of you, I spent an hour of my life looking for my dog and wondering if she was going to be ok.

I’m really just happy she’s home and I guess she was too.  She’s been very snuggly with me since then, which is unusual since she usually sticks with Dad, but she came upstairs to my room and snuggled with me while I watched a movie and has followed me around like we’re attached.  I kind of love it, I’m just afraid it won’t last now that she’s not in danger of becoming a pancake.

And yes, I purchased them all new ID tags.  they should be coming shortly.

The rest of the week was filled with work and boringness.  That’s ok.  I can’t take more than that.

Until the next crisis,

Jaina

I Haz the Sadz

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.

~Jaina

Dear Paisley,

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.

It’s Tiny and Gold…

And her name is Evie

I’ve been hesitating to post that I brought a new friend home because I’ve been afraid people, (you know, the 2 people who have been reading this) would think I was simply trying to replace Ianto, now that he’s gone.  I’m not sure why it would bother me so much that anyone think that, since it shouldn’t matter.  Regardless, it made me hold back on saying anything other than on my Facebook, until now.

I do want to say, that I’m not trying to replace Ianto.  Ianto was irreplaceable, as any pet is irreplaceable, for several reasons.  Ianto had his own quirks, personality and style.  He was a brat, a food hoarder and kick boxer in one tiny, furry body.  He appreciated fine-dining and despised cleaning day and for the life of me, no other hamster will ever be like him.

But, after he was gone, I knew that there was a hole he had left behind and so much recently in my life has not been at all what I expected, that leaving that hole without filling it with something or someone, would just add to the holes that are already there and trying to heal.

Repairing a hurt with a snuggly, fuzzy, lovely hamster, is a far easier patch than the hurts you feel when you lose someone you love out of the blue or your days aren’t going well for no particular reason, or you just want to be successful and not wonder if you’re going to be one giant ball of fail when it’s time to be an adult.

It’s far easier to wake up to the squeakity-squeak of a little fuzzy-butt running in their wheel than find yourself laying awake because you can’t sleep without it.

It also helped, finding out that I’m not the only one who felt that way.  I recently read a post on a wonderfully snarky and yet, so close to home blog called: Hyperbole and a Half, on a post where the author had recently lost her beloved pet rat to a brain tumor (Post found here: Isabelle) and was finding it hard to cope with the loss.  Since I’ve lost several of my closest furry friends over the last three years, I can honestly say I related to her story and that when I saw this particular excerpt, it made me feel better about bringing Evie home:

Love is wonderful in that it can never be wasted or used up.  We can never replace the people or animals we have loved, but the love we feel for them can be expanded.  I like to think of love as being stretchy.  It is easy to feel guilty when you start to love a new pet – like somehow that means you love your old friend less.  But when you think of love as being stretchy and able to expand, you can see that there will always be room for everything.  You can love as much as you want.

I can love as much as I want.  There is enough room in my heart for a million, billion loves– Though I think my checking account shriveled up and died at the sheer thought of that– Love shouldn’t have an expiration date and it shouldn’t just curl up in a ball and sit in a corner when you’ve lost something that you love– like a Ianto.  I still love him, no matter what, just as I still love my very first hamster, Ernie or my mouse, Alice or even my late Grandma’s cranky old dog, Rosie.

And I can love Evie, with just as much love as I had for Ianto, as I do for all my pets.

Little Evie, who plays freeze tag when I peek in her house, or during the first two days I had her, flattened herself out like silly putty, every time I tried to pet her, because she wasn’t sure I should be touching her.  Little Evie who started trusting me enough a few nights ago, to fall asleep in my hand while I watched a movie.

She will be well loved.

I’ll post more later when I’ve stopped crying.  I get a little emotional about these things and I realize now, that this post has meant more than just my pets, it applies to many things.  It’s a good cry, it hurts and it’s a little like picking at a scab when it’s started to heal really well.  But it’s good.  It’s a cry I’ve needed.

So, maybe the next post will be funny.  I’ll dust off the camera and try to capture Evie a little better than what can come of a camera phone.  She really is a beautiful hamster, if I do say so myself and she’s got the sweetest little face.  And if you’re tired of cute, I’ll whip out the pictures of the giant, grotesque spider my Mom spotted fifty miles away.  That’ll get the blood flowing!

Until then,

Jaina

P.S.  You’ll probably never read this and it’s probably pointless to put here, but just in case…

I’ll never understand, why what we had went the way it did and I’ll never understand why you talked to me like you hated me.  But I think I can say now, that I forgive you.  It still hurts and it stings to be reminded of you.  And maybe you don’t feel you did anything wrong, or maybe you’re hurting every time you think of me.  But just so you know.

I forgive you.

In which Jaina Breaks up with 2010…

Before I even get into it– I just want to say, I’ve been looking at what people have been searching for on Google and then happening on to my blog as a Top Search result.  You people are strange.  I’m not sure what possesses anyone to do a search for “Throw Cow Pee” but I’m hoping it’s in regards to a very important, lifesaving, research project.  And I’d also like to reassure you, there is no throwing of cow pee here.

Thank you.

And now, to the more serious reason behind this post.  This year has finally reached it’s peak, at least for me, in horribleness.

This evening, while I was checking my fuzzy upstairs pets, I found Ianto had died sometime this afternoon.  I don’t really know what happened.  I know that hamsters, on average, only live one to two years.  Ianto was about to turn one (or thereabouts) this September, but was in, as far as I could tell, good health.  And, not to toot my own horn, all of my hamsters have lived much longer than that, never the lower end of the average.  I know, that I heard him running around at 6am this morning, before I left for work and assumed he was sleeping when I was in my room this afternoon.

I am mostly sad because it seemed so sudden.  He still had food in his cheek pouches when I found him and it looked like he had been heading back to his nest.  I know these things happen, but I feel like I’ve lost a lot in the last few months and I’m not handling it well.

My Grandpa, my dog, my hamster, people and creatures that were and are close to my heart.  I was hoping these sorts of things had settled down by now and that I could just ride 2010 out into the sunset and then kick it good riddance.  Apparently, that wasn’t meant to be.

Yes, I know, these things happen for a reason– Hard to believe your hamster dying without you realizing it or being able to figure out why has a reason, but hopefully he’s happy, wherever he is and that he has all the sunflower seeds he can find to save up for the apocalypse.

I will remember his little attitude, his tendency to kick box my fingers when he didn’t like what I was doing or realized he had to work for something.  I will remember his planning for the end of days, his little house, constantly full with seeds, like something was about to happen and the rest of us just didn’t know about it.  Or all the times he got upset with me for cleaning it out.  Or all the times he got me back, waiting until right after I had put the vacuum away to kick most of his clean bedding back onto the floor.  He was a tiny evil genius and he was my evil genius.

I will miss him and yes, I’ll cry for him– I don’t care that I’m 22 years old, I think it means I have a soul. Maybe I care too much about my pets, but they’re my life right now.  I just want them healthy and happy and right now, even if I couldn’t have prevented it, I feel like I failed him.

I'm in my wheel, watching you...

Remove it silly human

Maybe in the future I’ll find another little hammie that needs a home, but for now, I am in mourning.  I hope he’s happy, wherever he is.  As for 2010.  I’m over it.  I would really love for January to come and that be the end of this terrible year.  I know I’m feeling sorry for myself, but I’m pushing the boundaries as to how much I can take this year before I curl up into a little ball and hide in my room.  It just doesn’t seem fair.  And yes, I’m going to whine about it.

Love you Ianto.

~Jaina

My Joys

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.

Until the troubles fade,

~Jaina

Yuri Muddypaws

This year has not been one for good news and I’m afraid it’s only getting worse.  This week, after much soul-searching, my family decided it was time for Yuri to rest.  After his beautiful comeback in February after extensive surgery to remove both stones and part of his Thyroid, Yuri was diagnosed with nasal cancer.  A large tumor had taken root in his nasal cavity and had begun to grow and had been present either during his surgery or directly after.  This was the percolating sound we had been hearing and were told was nothing.  Yuri also had a large lesion at the roof of his mouth, which none of us had known about, but which explained his sudden issue with chewing hard food/treats and his increasing halitosis.  It was so far along that none of the veterinarians we took him to could guarantee that surgery or treatment would be effective and as we had already invested much into his surgery, it was not something feasible for us to consider.  With heavy hearts, we decided the best thing for him would be to take him home, let him be as comfortable as he could be in his old age and control any infection and pain with medication.  And for almost 6 months that was enough.

Unfortunately, this week it became most apparent, the cancer had progressed far enough that he could no longer live comfortably.  Breathing had become more than a chore, the tumors in his nasal area had spread and grown into his eye socket, to the point he could no longer see and began to bleed.  His nose was constantly needing to be cleaned from drainage and bleeding and although we only had to up his pain medication once, he was not living much of a life as he would rouse himself for treats, dinner or car rides, only to be exhausted by it moments later.  As much life as he clung to in the end, it was a struggle and none of us could bear to see it.

And I find it absolutely unfair.

I am angry and sad that he survived and bounced back from a difficult surgery so zealously, only to be struck down by something so disgusting and painful.  I am angry that my beautiful, fuzzy, wonderful baby was overcome by such terrible symptoms and I am even more angry, that once again, we had to make the choice to end a pet’s life.  It is and always will be, one of the hardest things a pet parent who truly loves their pets will ever have to deal with and unfortunately, in my lifetime as a pet lover and parent, I’ve had to be involved with it far too often.  When I was in 6th grade, I had to make the decision to put my cat Willie (a pretty gray tabby) to sleep because his kidneys were failing and there was nothing anyone could do.  It had to be a snap decision and I loathed having to make it.  We had to put Rosie, my grandmother’s dog to sleep after taking care of her when my grandmother passed away because she was too stubborn to go on her own despite having liver problems and failing health.  Ozzie, our 16 year old dog that I had known since elementary school and grown up with had to be decided for, despite surviving years of Epilepsy and its treatment because he was elderly.

And now my Yuri.

I know that it’s something everyone who has a pet must face at some point.  Those fuzzy faces who love us so much they don’t want to leave and those who are too strong willed to let go trust in us to make the right decision, even though it so hard to.  When they live long lives with you, it is not like losing a family member, it is losing a family member and it makes one’s heart sick.  You always wonder if you made the right choice and although I know Yuri was never going to get better, no matter how much I might have wished, I can’t help but have a small part of me kicking myself for letting him go.  It’s a selfish part, but it’s a part nonetheless.

My boy :0)

I will always try to remember Yuri for the beautiful, strong, terribly sly dog that he was.  I will remember that he came home with us as a clearance puppy, because the night before we met him, he and his litter mate escaped their cage and had destroyed over $200 worth of cat toys and had made a terrible mess at a pet store that no longer exists.  The owner was so ready to have him gone, she had marked him down, despite him being a purebred.

I will remember bringing him home and “penning” the lyrics to a countryesque song titled “The Lonely Little Husky” to which there is a taped rendition somewhere, with me as a child, holding a nearly 30 pound puppy in my lap, trying to make him dance– While Yuri wanted nothing more than to sleep.

I will remember him by all of his nicknames; Yuri Muddypaws when he would come in everyday from the backyard, covered in mud from digging and playing in puddles.  The Yurinator, maybe not something he’d want to be remembered as, but certainly a tale worth remembering.  And on several occasions “That-Damn-Dog” or Houndini as he slipped out of the house or his collar once more to run through the neighborhood.

I will remember all the times he put our family friends through the wringer when they watched him as we were on vacation.  Somehow finding ways to escape harnesses touted as “inescapable” and wandering through strange neighborhoods, somehow charming meat market owners and grilling employees into feeding him their wares.  Or his one and only trip into the grocery store, escaping from our car– jumping up onto the door of another customer’s car and peering at her through her open window, scaring her into screams, only to dash into the store;  us chasing after him in time to hear “Dog in aisle 6″ over the intercom.  So many bag boys were happy for the distraction as they chased him through the store until he was finally cornered in the meat (of course) section, drawn to the sent of raw prime rib.

My mom, humiliated, dragged him back to the car, expecting us to be banned from the store forever, when the owner pleaded for a pardon on Yuri’s behalf.

“Don’t hurt him!” he begged as my mother tightened her grip on Yuri’s collar to air depriving levels.  She smiled at the man and said,

“Oh, I’m not going to hurt him– I’m going to kill him.”

Now, years after that escapade, we tell friends or fellow Husky owners the story gladly for a laugh and to let them know they won’t have it so easy if they own one of the extra-furry kind.

I will remember after several months of struggling to carry hundreds of Pennysavers alone, my mother ordered a special pack for Yuri, with pockets that we might split the load, so I would no longer fear having a hump from the weight of the bag and Yuri could get out of the house and work as he was bred to do.  It gave us time together and also gave me the opportunity to meet new people, attracted to Yuri’s striking features.  It earned me a few babysitting gigs and gave some lonely elderly folks a chance to talk to a girl and her dog who didn’t mind stopping to chat.  Did I mention it got us tips?

I will always remember the excitement it caused Yuri, when he saw me getting his pack ready with Pennysavers the night before we delivered.  He would always try to put it on right then and there, even though I tried to explain to him he had to wait.

I will remember the times he escaped and managed to be picked up, whether by kindly neighbors or the pound.  In one instance, he got away from us and had been picked up a by a person who was  likely, just trying to help, but rather than calling the information on his tag, took him to the Humane Society well out of town.  Despite having to put a number collar on him to find him in their kennels and obviously seeing he had a tag, they had chosen not to call us to let us know he was safe, but waited until the next day.  When my father and I arrived to bring him home, with an unwarranted “bail”, he heard us coming and started howling until we sprung him from jail.

Or the times he escaped to the neighbor lady’s house, the one who’s daughter had a Husky and knew what kinds of treats they liked.  The number of times he had gone to her house, where he was babied and let sleep on the couch (a no-no at home) and given yummy treats of chicken.  Or the times he rallied the troops into joining him on a break out, in the dead of winter.  Exhilarating for him, miserable for Ozzie and Faith who discovered too late, they should have packed warm coats and booties for the trip.  Yuri plunging on, icicles hanging from his whiskers and chin fur like jewels.

I will remember him as a loud mouth, just weeks old and scaring my father as he walked into the house reading the mail and suddenly “Hewwoh!” comes from nowhere; making my father believe someone had broken in.  Or the picnic where my parents were taunting him with a Subway cookie, telling him if he said he wanted it, he could have it.  After much frustration and begging on his part, Yuri finally cried, “AH WAHN ET!”, shocking my parents so much that he was handed the cookie without dispute.  I will never forget the two times in his life he actually barked.  Once at a gang of idiots who we had the pleasure of parking next to at a camping park, who decided to run through our campsite, causing Yuri to bark at them menacingly.  Or the time one of our trashcans had the gall to roll across the yard, startling Yuri into a barking match we had never heard before.

I will remember that he adored winter, as any smart Husky does and could never be in the backyard without diving into snowbanks or eating a mouthful of snow, just for the fun of it.  I will remember him frolicking and playing and bouncing in the snow, even when the rest of us hid in the house for warmth.  Demanding we turn a fan on for him in subzero weather, because he was still warm.

I will remember  how much he loved to open his own Christmas presents, ripping the paper off with finesse; half the time just because it was fun, not because he cared what was in it.  My mother often joked we should have wrapped rolls of paper towels for him, so he would have the joy of ripping off the Santa paper and destroying the roll inside.  He was never satisfied until any and all paper around him was torn into tiny, unrecognizable pieces, often the fate of important receipts and yes, even homework.  His fetish for chewing was not limited to paper, but blue Bic pens someone was silly enough to leave at nose level.  There were many a time when we would return home to find him blue from head to toe, proud that he had successfully destroyed another inky enemy.

I will remember that even though he became the clear alpha dog over our oldest dog, Ozzie, he was never cruel and cared for his elderly friend, even to the end.  Never eating without him, laying with him so Ozzie would not be alone, even when he was at his most uncomfortable.  He loved Ozzie as though they had been brothers since birth and despite their rambunctiousness, even came to love Faith and Paisley.  Reminding them often, when they were getting out of hand.

I will remember little kids asking to pet him, asking questions about him;

Child: “Does he like bikes?”

Dad: “Nah,  his paws don’t reach the pedals.”

I will remember all the fur, never ending in the shedding department and all the times we stood outside with him, brushing him and realizing the birds in the neighborhood had discovered what good insulation Husky undercoat was.  Lining up at patio’s edge, just out of reach of the jaws of death, but close enough a good breeze would bring a tuft of soft white fur close enough for them to grab and bring home for their babies.  I am happy to think of the number of nests and baby birds that are warmed by Yuri’s gift of fur.

There is so much about him that I cannot share here, because it would take much longer than people are willing to read to describe.  This post would be twice as long and boring to those who did not know him personally.  I concede that most pet owners believe their pet was the best of them all and that the world will not be the same when they are gone.  I cannot say that the world will know he’s gone, but in my pocket of it, he has touched enough lives that his passing will be noticed.  He was an incredible dog, in both smarts and beauty.  He stopped people in their tracks just walking by and had the personality of a dog who knew he was pretty but loved nothing more than his family and a good scratch (and maybe a few dozen cookies).  I will miss him so much as he has been a part of me for over half of my life.  He has seen me through years of awkward school days to college pains.  He has judged boyfriends and dog sitters, he has maintained shrew populations and caused laughter.

And today, he has brought me many tears, only because I loved him too much to see him go.

I love you my sweet boy.  You brought my life joy (and experience in cleaning up bits of paper) and I hope upon hope that you are with Ozzie now, young and beautiful again, romping in the green grass together.

Love you,

Jaina

Lyle Eugene Brandstetter 1920-2010

Lyle Eugene Brandstetter: August 13th 1920-June 28th 2010

On Monday, June 28th, my father received a call from his sister that his father (my Grandfather) had passed away.  My Grandpa Lyle has been in failing health for at least the last year and particularly so in the last few weeks.  We knew that it was likely that he would not be with us much longer, but as any granddaughter will likely tell you, it was not easy hearing he was gone.

My Grandpa Lyle wasn’t a man of many words, but when he did speak it was often to say something to spark laughter in his family.  I cannot count the number of times he has caught one or all of us completely unexpectedly with a quip or joke that seemingly came from nowhere.  Whether joking with my Grandma that she shouldn’t complain about having large bosoms as “Plenty of girls pay for those and you got yours for free!” to playfully accusing my father of “licking his spoon” while he was feeding him pudding to trying to encourage me into being an accomplice in nabbing a snack while my Grandma wasn’t looking.  His smile, raspy laugh and twinkling eyes will be sorely missed at family gatherings.

Over 6′ feet tall even into his golden years and rail thin, my Grandpa was imposing only in size, not in attitude.  I never heard him raise his voice unless it was to remind whoever was making lunch that he would like applesauce or peaches and despite depending on her for much of his care, he clearly adored my Grandmother; who doted upon him with more love than I’ve ever seen another human being provide.  Although weakened by a failing heart and a constant battle with Diabetes, my Grandpa never failed to show his love to his family (even when it seemed sickness had taken away his loving personality) we all know he loved (and still loves us) and I’m sure it will take a long time to get used to his physical absence, we will feel him in our hearts forever.

Even though Grandpa Lyle lived 89 long years and raised a large (Ever growing) family, for me, it’ll never be enough.  When my mother’s father, my Grandpa Babe, passed away when I was very young, Grandpa Lyle was there to provide the Grandfatherly love every grandchild needs and to encourage me in everything I did.  I’ve never thought myself very talented but to my Grandpa, I was.  I’ve played the violin for almost 14 years and in that time, Grandpa Lyle became one of my biggest fans.  Not long before he passed, according to my Grandma, he had told her I could play the violin so it sang to a person.  He firmly believed (though none of my violin teachers do) I could make the violin my business and that maybe I’d be famous with my “little music machine”.  I have not done much with it recently, but I now have the feeling I will try to keep playing it for years to come to make him proud of me.  I regret not playing for him more often as I always felt unwarranted stage fright, playing in front of my family, but I hope that despite my cowardly reaction, he was still able to listen to me play enough through the CDs my Dad made sure he had to listen to.

My Grandpa was going to be turning 90 in August a little over a month from now and although his health was poor, he was looking forward to it.  He had been joking he was “sneezing on 90″ and I’m sure were he still here, he would have received the biggest birthday bash we could have thrown for him.  And maybe even if he can’t have one with us here, he can have one even bigger with those of the Brandstetter clan who have already moved on.  I hope he can even invite my Grandma Barb and Grandpa Babe while he’s there.

For now, I must remain strong for my Grandma Mary who has lost her other half and part of her soul.  I have never seen two people more in love than they and it tears me apart to see her so alone.  I know that she is surrounded by her family who love her dearly, but that family was started and tended with a man who is no longer here with her and I know only from observation that it’s breaking her heart.  I hope in time she is able to rest without fear of bad dreams and to be able to cry tears of joy rather than pain.

I am saddened by the loss my family will feel for a great while and even more saddened (selfishly so) that he will not be able to attend my wedding in May 2012 (I can only hope he will be there in spirit) but I am grateful I had the opportunity to let him know that I will be married and taken care of.  At least I know now that he is taken care of and no longer has to suffer through the ordeals of being human.  If ever there were a man more deserving of becoming an angel, it’s my Grandpa Lyle.  He was one here, might as well be one in a far more spectacular place.

Grandpa Lyle might not have been famous or rich or the discoverer of any cure but he has a legacy to us nonetheless.  Well known in his hometown, he raised 5 children had ten grandchildren, twelve great-grandchildren and there will be many more to come.  That legacy was good enough for him and I hope we can make him proud.

I love you Grandpa and I miss you so much already.  I could use one of your big hugs right now, I hope you’ll save one for me until I see you again.  Your family is a little lost without you right now but I’m sure you’ll find a way to set us right again.

Have a snack, on me :0*

Until then,

Jaine

The Legend of the Dragonfly

“In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group ever came back after crawling up the lily stems to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what had happened to him. Soon one of them felt an urgent impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on the top of a lily pad and went through a glorious transformation which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings. In vain he tried to keep his promise. Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down at his friends below. Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number.
The fact that we cannot see our friends or communicate with them after the transformation which we call death is no proof that they cease to exist.”

Featured Kitties

After visiting PAWS & More Shelter and speaking with some of the volunteers we found out that they have some kitties there that have been with them since 2008.  That’s far too long for a kitty to be without a family, so I’m featuring some of these kiddies (heee) and maybe someone will fall in love… Maybe it’ll be you– So take a look:

Mary

There is ‘Something About Mary’ that is just great! We so think she deserves a loving home. We are reducing her adoption fee $20 (Till Dec. 31st)! Mary is both a talker and a lover. She’s affectionate and likes attention from people, and she doesn’t hesitate to let you know when she’s ready for more. She was found at a local trailer court under some bushes, alone and pregnant. Most of her kittens have now found forever homes. Mary will share her space and her human family with other cats, but she wouldn’t mind being an only cat either. All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites and bathed. They will be microchipped at adoption, and come with bragging rights.

Mary is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

Paul

Paul was born at the shelter. His mother, Mary, was found pregnant and alone in a local trailer park. Paul is the last of the litter remaining at PAWS & More; all of his littermates have found forever homes. Just like Iowa corn, Paul is super sweet! He loves to run and play and can even be a bit corny at times when he finds a toy. When he’s tired, he’ll look for a warm place to snuggle up and sleep—your lap would be the perfect spot! Wouldn’t you like to take this cute little guy home and let him share his sweetness with you? All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites and bathed. They will be microchipped at adoption, and come with bragging rights.

Paul is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

Gigi

Gigi is a Domestic Short Hair with gray and white fur. She is just a big sweetheart! She is very laid back and keeps to herself, unless she wants your attention. Then she will make you laugh with her vocal noises. Gigi would be a great lap cat for you. She loves to sit and look out the window. She would be fine living with other cats, and would do fine with a calm dog who is used to cats. All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites, bathed, and come with bragging rights. Microchipping will take place at the time of adoption.

Gigi is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

Blinky

Blinky has been staying with PAWS way too long! We are offering $20 off her adoption fee!!!! Sometimes there’s just no gray area … That’s the case here as there’s no question, once you meet Blinky, you’ll fall in love with her. This sweet girl will rub up against you and purr her way into your heart. Her crisp black and white coat is very striking and her golden/green eyes contrast nicely against her coat. Lap time would be very much appreciated. Blinky would like to be your only fuzzy love.  All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites and bathed. Microchipping and transfer of bragging rights will take place at the time of adoption.

**Blinky*$20 off** is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

Melinda

Melinda’s eyes are what will get you! They are a gorgeous green, big and round. She has a sweet demeanor, ready for a lap to curl up in. She’ll express her gratitude by a soft purr and an arching back to your petting hand. What could be more relaxing than hanging out, watching a good movie, with a pal like Melinda? She’s not all reserved though, this girl also knows how to play. Squeaky mice or extra catnip-filled toy around the house? Watch out! Melinda will put a smile on your face day after day. Her friendship will be something you’ll cherish if you let her into your home … And your heart.  All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites, bathed, and come with bragging rights. Microchipping will take place at the time of adoption.

Melinda is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

Bobby

Bobby is long and tall and full of spirit!  The brother of Tommy, his gray stripes and golden eyes make for one handsome kitty. He’s a curious kitty — always batting toys around with an expression on his face that is so adorable. Bobby is adaptable and can make friends with anyone. He loves people and is ready to call you a friend from the minute go. Chillin’ is this boys’ game after a bit of play. He’d love to hang out and catch a nap on your lap. All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites, bathed, and come with bragging rights. Microchipping will take place at the time of adoption.

Bobby is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

Tommy

Tommy is amazing! The brother of Bobby, he’s a beautiful soft gray color with stripes galore. His golden eyes speak to you with kindness. He’s a love of a boy, just craving attention. He enjoys the company of other cats and dogs would be cool friends too! He loves hanging out in his hammock for some leisure time in the sun. Toys and catnip are make for fun times as he’s full of spunk when fully rested. Meet Tommy and you’ll have the carrier ready to take home a new pal. All our cats have been spayed/neutered, tested for feline leukemia, vaccinated against feline distemper and feline parvo, and have been wormed. They have also been treated for fleas and ear mites, bathed, and come with bragging rights. Microchipping will take place at the time of adoption.

Tommy is up-to-date with routine shots, house trained and spayed/neutered.

See, how cute are they?  Really cute.  And how bad do they need a home?  Really bad.  So seriously, check them out!

They’re even on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/pages/Washington-IA/PAWS-More-Animal-Shelter/50831215837?ref=ts