It’s the thought that counts, right?

I know it’s been a very long time since I last posted and I’m fairly certain it will be a very long time for me to post again– but, it’s the thought that counts, right?

At the very least I have several good reasons why I haven’t updated:

1.)

I own this.  I have officially become a homeowner.  I’m not very good at it right now (made a few mistakes already) but I guess that’s all part of the learning experience.  My learning experience started as soon as I tried buying anything at all.  I originally put an offer in on a different house and had it fall through.  Had a pre-approval that was later rescinded due to an error on my bank’s part (did I mention I had a new purchase agreement?) and then several weeks passed, with more and more issues arising and the future looking more bleak for me to begin my journey as a homeowner.

Obviously, things finally came though, but not before I had to get a lawyer involved, got an ulcer and made a very long list of people I will never work with again if I can help it.  Now I’m here and for the most part, it’s pretty exciting that I have a house to call my own and have say over.

2.) I welcomed a new baby into my family, here in my new house.  This is my beautiful Harlequin Great Dane, Hank.  I found out about Hank by pure chance, working at the pet store– I met a family who was fostering puppies– I met one one of Hank’s brothers at the time– and over the course of a few weeks, got to meet the rest of the family.  Hank’s mom had been found stray and pregnant.  Believed to be a puppy mill escapee, the family took her in and nursed her back to health.  She was a Great Dane, but with puppies she weighed 79lbs, without she weight 59.  Even as a female Dane, she was clearly underweight and very unhappy with life, to the point she had to be sent to a Great Dane rescue when the puppies were old enough, because she didn’t like men and she didn’t like children.

Because I had met the family before anyone else who had an interest, I was given first choice of the puppies.  Hank had made an impression on my Mom and I, so home he came.  He was 8 weeks old at the time of that picture–  He’s only just 4 months now.  He’s more this size now:

As of Friday, the 27th, he weighs 41.2lbs.  He seriously doesn’t have a clue how huge he is.  It’s hard sometimes, to remember that he’s barely 4 months old given how huge he is.  He eats 3 cups of his food, three times a day– I have to try to buy his food ahead, just because he eats so much.  Honestly, it’s a joy to have him, even when he’s naughty (though I might not think it at the time).  My only fear for him is how short a life span Great Danes have.  If he makes it over 7 years old, he’ll be considered an old man.  I’ve heard so many wonderful things about the breed, that I wanted the experience for myself.  I may not be able to not have a Great Dane, after this.

Faith’s opinion of him is slightly less appreciative than mine… Even though he seems to be quite taken with her.

In fact, I’d say her opinion is rather low…

My old lady has gotten over how cute puppies can be.

3.)  Since moving in, I’ve been able to convert at least one of my basement rooms into a happy place for my piggies (I hope to get the other one ready for Baxter & Watson soon), of which I now have three:

The baby, Sammahdi (or Maddi).

I feel much better about things now, now that they have a big space to stretch their legs and get to know each other, without living on top of one another.  They already seem so much happier then they were and I don’t have that guilt that I’m making their lives suck.  I really do love them so much and this makes me truly joyful to see them popcorning around, wheeking happily.

4.) Although I am currently still working both of my jobs, I have just opened (technically, I guess) my in-home business.  Which is really a variety of things, just to get something that might strike someone’s fancy.  I am offering violin lessons and tutoring (since I became an Orton-Gillingham certified tutor back in September AND, Guinea Pig Salon services.

I know, that must sound ridiculous, but they’re all things I’m good at and to be honest, I have had customers at the store call to see if there is a groomer that will deal with their Pig.  Not all Guinea Pigs are sweet when it comes to their maintenance.  Dharma is pretty freaking cute, but try cutting her nails and she will turn into a crazed lunatic.  If I can potentially offer help for fellow Guinea Pig lovers while being able to pay for groceries or a tank of gas, then I see it as a win for everyone.

As for the lessons and tutoring– I want to maintain my skills and I enjoyed teaching when I did it in high school.  I’d like the opportunity again, hopefully, somewhere there’s a kid who wants someone to teach them and also be understanding that practicing 20 hours a day, is hardly a kid’s dream.  I like working one on one with kids, something that I’ve had the privilege of doing at my full time job.  Now that I have the space to offer any of these things from my home, I’m hoping I’ll get takers.

So that’s what’s been going on here.  And those are my excuses for not updating sooner.  Had nothing to do with being lazy, or under-motivated to type up an entire blog post…  Nooooo.  We’ll just stick with that.

Anyway, I will not promise to be faithful in updating this, as usual.  However, I will try harder.  It’s not like I can say I’m too busy living at my parents’ house!

Until then,

Jaina & the Gang

www.facebook.com/JainaofallTrades

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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

Mystic: The Face that Makes No Sense

Mystic has been here a week and although there have been a few tense moments, so far it seems to be going fairly well.  She really is a sweet dog– Honestly, you couldn’t ask for a better personality from a newbie.  She’s desperate to please everyone and she hasn’t caused any trouble.

She makes no sense as a dog.  She’s squat, short-legged, Husky-tailed, Lab-colored and a head that’s twice as big as any I’ve seen.  And yet I think she’s one of the sweetest faces, ever.

She was hoping to get this:

ow.

She’s been here a week and most days I wonder if she ever wasn’t:

Like she’s always been here:

And she’s a loyal friend already.

She’s going to be a good dog.  I can tell.

I Haz a Happy!

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.

Until then!

~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

Under Construction

It’s here!

NEW HUTCH-- YAY!

Actually, it’s been here for about a week, but I haven’t had the time or the energy really to work on it.  However, after the millionth time of tripping over the box and seeing their sad little faces I finally just gritted my teeth and told myself to do it.

*cough* while dragging my poor Dad downstairs to help me *cough*

I could have done it, I swear!  But power tools and I don’t necessarily mix (should have seen me two weeks ago, sanding my fish tank stand!) and Dad knows that and he knows that I obsess over my animals.  So he was the dutiful father and helped me get it all screwed together and commiserated with me when a few pieces didn’t look like they even belonged in the box.  And of course the inevitable “shipping damage”, as in a whole hinge breaking off in the box.  Sweet.

Either way, the majority of it is complete:

Yay!

Tomorrow, after work I’ll probably wander into the abyss that is Menards so I can get some new hinges and get the roof attached and hopefully get Baxter and Watson moved into their new place.  Just in time for spring and needing to buy them the OUTDOOR hutch I want for them.

Yay!

I wish they’d consider getting a paper route.

I hope to have better pictures soon, also hopefully of the two checking their new digs out.  I will say this, it’s good this isn’t a smell-o-blog, because this hutch is stinky.  I don’t know if it’s whatever they treat the wood with to keep it from rotting or being bug-eaten or if it’s supposed to emulate pine.  Whatever it is, IZ NOT PRITTEE!!

Here’s to it airing out soon.  Blegh.

Until then!

Jaina, Faith & the fuzzy kids

Pepper Breath

I gave the girls green peppers that we had left over from our chili dinner.

PEPPERZ ARE DELIZIOUS! YAYYYYZ!

 

P to the U!

That would be the result of the peppers… Happy pigs with a sudden urge to snuggle and mom’s face melting off.

WARNING: Do NOT leave piggies unattended with any large animals you may have.  Even the best dogs are still dogs and if given the opportunity, they will snatch smaller animals up.  Be very careful– Faith is gentle and I was within grabbing distance, so my worries were small, but that by no means, means it’s a good idea.

Whatz you doing down dere?

 

I givez up.

Luka was also being, though it happens very little, adorable towards Faith– But she was having none of it.

He makez me sweepy.

That was all– Nothing big, just had some cute pictures.

~Jaina

Everything Rolled into One

I got busy, life kept going, I didn’t update, so shoot me.

I’m here now.

So here we go:

Watson:

Is doing WONDERFULLY!  Less than a week after the surgery, the vet said she would be healed enough for me to start letting she and Baxter hang out.  I was a little surprised by that, but after looking at the surgery site, her fur was already growing back in and it was little more than a scab.  That was exciting news and to be perfectly honest, I feel like she’s mellowed out quite a lot.  I still wouldn’t stick my hand in her cage and poke her, but she doesn’t freak out as easily and she is actually quite snuggly now.

 

Baxter & Watson Meeting:

I didn’t actually get any shots of them getting together, since I was too busy chaperoning, but I did get some cute pictures of Baxter anyway.

Yes... I'm on the couch.

Still on the couch...

And now I bathe.

As for their date– It went pretty well.  Baxter’s still a little forward with Watson, but at least now we can be sure there will be no baby-making.  I think they like each other a lot, so I can only hope to get the money together quickly so they can live together.  I think it will go well.

Valentine’s Day:

Let me make it clear– I hate Valentine’s Day.  I think it’s overrated, over-advertised and I’ve had relationships that didn’t go as I had hoped start on it, so I’m always happy to see it gone.  The only enjoyable part for me, is half-priced candy afterwords.  However, my Mom seems to have caught the ‘crafty-plague’ and the last few holidays, we’ve done more in the way of crafty or baking to acknowledge them.  Apparently this included Valentine’s Day.  So she bought all these supplies and things and I showed up.  The weekend before, we sat down and made about a billion (felt like a billion) little chocolate cherries and brownies and then glitterfied some plastic heart containers for those really nasty conversation hearts– What?  They taste like chalk!– For her coworkers and the little ones I work with.  The house is still covered in glitter from that incident.  Although the glitter didn’t stick as well as we had hoped, they turned out pretty well.

 

I think everything turned out all right– Her coworkers enjoyed them and so did the kids– and I guess a few couples need to go into therapy because of the fights that ensued after tasting the chocolates.

Dad got to be involved, even though he hadn’t intended to, when we discovered one of our canister’s lids had inconveniently become stuck and wouldn’t come loose– especially when it was needed at the time:

We'll try anything around here...

Now it was a quest...

Ta da! THAT took ten minutes longer than it should have.

Ah, the spoils of battle.

It was a valiant victory.  Against powdered sugar.

Of course, while we were working hard, there were some people that were hardly working.

Sorry about the quality, at the beginning.  I was using my new camera and I still have a ways to go at being proficient, so it took me a while to get it into focus.  :0/

He was howling for a variety of reasons (not just us winding him up) but the fact that not only had he been banished from the kitchen- but that his plan of rolling ALL of his new tennis balls under the gate and into the kitchen had failed in making him unbanished. So not only was he still banished, he had also lost of all his tennis balls.  Which, let’s be fair, is a travesty.

When he finally DID become unbanished:

He found a really fun game to play!  All by himself!  He was so proud.  He does this, will just start doing something completely odd and out of the blue and act like he’s done it forever.

I don’t get him sometimes, I’m just glad he’s happy.

Well, I think that’s all I have in me for an update.  Not a whole lot has happened on the home front and I’m days away from finishing my undergraduate, so I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on anything that’s not school related until Wednesday afternoon.  That makes me overjoyed– not.

Until then!

Jaina & the fuzzy faces

Bring on the Stress

Welcome to my world.  I need a vacation.

The last few months, I’ve been pondering bonding Baxter and Watson, seeing as they both seemed to like one another, I figured it would be a good experience for them and for me.  And then you might recall this post: One of these things is not like the other…

Where I discovered that Watson may not be the droid I’m looking– er, male I thought he was.  Since this put a bit of a damper on my plans, obvvvvviously, I’ve been unsure what I want to do, so it’s been put on the back burner until now.  They shouldn’t have to live alone and I don’t want to keep saying I’ll do it, only to not– So, I made an appointment.

I originally made the appointment for Baxter, thinking it would be easier and less stressful for him to be neutered than Watson spayed.  Well, I took them to the vet, to have him take a look and confirm that everyone is actually who they say they are.  Despite the vet having an issue understanding what it is that I wanted, he did confirm that Watson is female (surprise!) and Baxter male.  He also recommended that Watson be the one given the surgery because it would not only prevent pregnancy, but also be a preventative measure against uterine cancer.

iz gud

I’m all for prevention, but that doesn’t make it any less nervewracking.  After Phoebe’s passing over a year ago that was so sudden, as well as the loss of Paisley, it just would be too much to go through it again with Watson.  She’s already a skittish bunny, I just don’t want her to be afraid and I don’t want her to have any complications.

Too much drama.

All I know is that I will be a nervous wreck tomorrow, until someone calls me to tell me she’s ok and ready to come home.  Of course I have a stupidly busy schedule tomorrow, so I’m having to ask my family to take care of her until I can do it myself.  ARGH!

I guess, until I find out more, keep your paws crossed that there won’t be any complications and she’s on her way to being healed soon so she can live in a nice hutch.

~Jaina