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Who’s that?

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A puppy mill survivor’s first Christmas

 

 

I have a new dog. My last dog Ronan (main character of this blog) died last January. I’ll leave it at that for now as it still hurts. Anyone who has or has had a pet understands.

I wasn’t going to get another dog but someone said that I may not want to go through that heartbreak anymore but there are dogs (and other animals) desperately needing homes, love, respect and kindness. To provide a better life for an animal in need is worth the eventual heartbreak.

So I went online and found a rescue organization. I saw that a small dog named Yuki was going to be at one of the meet and view sessions the rescue hosts occasionally at local pet stores. It was in my area so I submitted my application and went to see her.

Everything worked out and she moved in within a couple of weeks.

Yuki was in a puppy mill as a breeding female for 5 years. The only reason she was released was because she had a hernia and wasn’t any use to the mill anymore.

She is the shyest dog I’ve ever met. She’s afraid of almost everything. Although she has settled well in our apartment, going out (even in the hallway) is stressful.

For the first couple of weeks she had bad separation anxiety. Racing back and forth, barking and howling, peeing and pooping. It was a nightmare. I have a voice recorder that let me know about the barking and yet none of my neighbours complained! I have great neighbours. I should mention that when I first got her I took time off work and would go in and out to show I always returned.

Luckily I work from home for most of the day and am only away at the office for a couple of hours. But I worried that she would hurt herself with all the running back and forth frantically and asked her vet for suggestions . He prescribed a mild anti-depressant. She had no side effects and within a couple of weeks showed improvement. We were able to reduce the dosage and she still seems okay.  It didn’t do much for her fear of the outside though.  Most of the people in my building know her story.  A lot of them know about puppy mills and the ones that don’t are shocked when I explain.  And I don’t hold back. The more people who know about the cruelty and abuse that goes on in a puppy mill the better the chances of closing them down.

I can’t say it’s been easy. I’m ashamed to say that if I knew what I was getting into I don’t think I would have gone through with it. But I’m glad I did. She sleeps with me and wakes me up with kisses. She snuggles up to me on the couch before settling down for a nap.  When I come home she can barely keep still she’s so happy to see me. We have a little cuddling session to make up for my absence. And I think that she’s starting to find some joy in her life. I hope so.

Now I’ll get down off my soap box and wish everyone and their pets a Merry Christmas!

 

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New Year’s Resolutions

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Every year we make resolutions. Some are important like quitting a bad habit. Some are just to change or improve your life. And then some are things you just want…

My resolutions are the same every year. To live in a warm climate and have more time to draw and paint. Well I almost made it last year! However it just wasn’t meant to be at this time in my life. Things happened that I had no control of but hopefully everything will work out in the next couple of years. The good thing is that I’ve reconnected with a good friend, have a nice home and my dog is happy. I’ll keep making the same resolutions and you never know, I might come up with some new ones! It doesn’t hurt to dream.

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Needs must

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I can’t believe all the flooding lately and the amazing way that people are coping.  It’s heartbreaking to see photos of them wading through water in their homes and offices to salvage things.  I’ve also noticed that since a lot of roads are under water alternate transportation has been called for.

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Oh no…snow!!!!

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We finally got our first snowfall…at least someone enjoyed it.

oh no...snow©

Old age…music to my eyes

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I thought I was going blind.  I had a problem with my eyes and worrier that I am expected the worst.  So I finally went to my eye doctor and after going through all sorts of tests, asked if it was serious.  He said no, this just comes with age.  Well!  Normally I’d be upset (as you do when told you’re getting old) but knowing that I wasn’t losing my sight made it a bit easier to take.

Goodbye Harry…

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I don’t watch a lot of tv but there are some shows that I like and watch when I can.  One of them is about forensic pathologists and I’ve been following the series for years.  Cast members have come and gone but the writing is good and I’ve enjoyed it.  One of the later additions to the cast is a man named Harry.  He’s a nice, honest guy who tries to do what’s best for all in the name of good and evil (why can’t I meet a man like that?).  Now that’s just the character he plays, I have no idea what this man is like in real life.  Nor do I want to.  What he’s really like is not my business.  But I’m getting off the subject here…

I’ve liked this show for a long time but lately the autopsies and action are getting a little too graphic for me.  I’m pretty squeamish and find it hard to watch this kind of entertainment.  But it seems to be out on a lot of shows these days.  And that’s fine, just because I can’t watch it doesn’t mean everybody else shouldn’t.  I’ll just stick to Perry Mason and Murder She Wrote.

Sorry Harry…

In Flanders Fields

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When I was little one of our teachers read the war poem “In Flanders Fields” to us.  And she started to cry.  That has stayed with me to this day.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine was visiting.  We’ve been friends for a long time but as she lives on the other side of the world now we don’t get together nearly as much as we used to.  Her mother was going through an album of old photographs and found some that included me.  One of them was a class photo we were both in.  I pointed to the teacher and said that she read In Flanders Fields to us and my friend remembered that she had cried.  We couldn’t agree on what her name was but we did remember her sorrow.  I don’t know who caused her sadness, whether it was a family member, a friend or all those who have suffered in war.

Lest we forget…

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