Early Morning Open Thread: Simple Joys

From commentor Edward I.:

I just thought I’d add my pup Sookie to the rescue lineup at Balloon Juice. She was born May 31st and I adopted her through Austin Boxer Rescue.
Her hobbies include chewing everything, eating and peeing.

Early Morning Open Thread: Snarls Barkly

From commentor Tony S (continuing yesterday’s story):

We purchased our house in 1999. It was an estate sale–the owner was hardly cold before the place went on the market. She had been a beagle lover all of her life. Although one dog passed away soon after she did, another pup, Gypsy, survived, although she had a stroke soon after her owner passed. We actually insisted Gypsy come with the house–which made us golden in the eyes of the executrix of the estate. Gypsy had 16 years of vet records and was probably a couple of years old when she herself was rescued. She lived for another two years.
Even while Gypsy was still around, we decided to make a practice wherever we could of adopting elder dogs. A total of 10 pups later, seven of whom have passed, we’re still doing it.
Knowing our weakness for senior beagles, a friend of my wife brought in a flyer she’d found at her laundromat in Brooklyn about two elder beagles that needed a home. The poster had been put up by a wonderful young woman named Elin who has her own ad-hoc organization for difficult to place pups. The two dogs had found a place–but Elin had another dog who might be in need of a home. He was a hound collie mix, and, although he got along with other dogs, he tended to view cats as potential snack items. This made the dog’s current placement rather problematic.
A few weeks later, Elin called and said that, yes, Snarls was available. We arranged a pickup in deepest Brooklyn at a doggie day care center. We’ve always given our dogs fun names. One of our favorite canines was named “Woofgang I’m a Dogus Muttsound,” and went by the name of Woofy. My wife, Celine, saw the new dog’s picture and immediately decided on Snarls Barkly.
Snarls had had a pretty rough time. He’d been left in a crate in front of a police precinct in the South Bronx at 4:00 am on the morning of February 10th, one of the coldest days of the year. He was in a state the ASPCA described as “filthy.” He also had never been fixed, had a freshly broken tail and a big tumor on his leg, and could definitely be described as emaciated. Our vet later said he was about nine years old. His cloudy eyes definitely speak to that age. As soon as the ASPCA got Snarls, they “fixed” (hate that phrase) him and removed his tumor. So when I met him, which is when the first picture was taken, he was wearing an Elizabethan Collar and an expression that mixed bemusement, waryness and fear. At one point I tried to pick him up, touched his tail, and got a nip to let me know to be more careful next time.
We had three dogs at home when we got Barkly. We dog sit our friends pups a lot, and, given that we have seniors, our current pack is both used to four-legged comings and goings and quite accepting of new friends. Barkly pretty much ignored them. We view our dogs as both heating accessories and family, so they sleep next to us on the bed. We had to build a little nest on the side for Barkly, because he refused to get up on the bed for weeks. Instead, he would go out in the back yard, build a pile of leaves, and lie down in it. Though he would sometimes lie on his side, his favorite position was a sort of frog-like pose with his legs stretched out straight back that would allow him to move into action in the quickest way possible.
Eventually, Barkly figured out that it was OK for him to get in the bed. Since then, he’s spent 85% of his time in the exact same space, curled up between our two pillows. He is a very quiet dog who still doesn’t seem to quite understand why he’s actually being allowed inside.
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Early Morning Open Thread: Beg!

From commentor Tony S:

You asked people to send in rescue stories… I’ve got a bunch of them.
I’ve been looking for a reason to write them up. If you’d like, I’ll be glad to tell the tale of the 11 dogs we’ve rescued since we bought our house 10 years ago, one at a time…
To whet your appetite, here are some photos of our latest rescue, Snarls Barkley, who I briefly mentioned in our previous post–first from the day we got him, then in recovery with his collar off, then peacefully snoozing on my wife’s shoulder.

I guess if we want to hear Snarls’ story, we’re all gonna hafta beg…

Early Morning Open Thread: Trio

From commentor Annia:

It may be just about impossible to imagine that Julia, the beauty on the left, spent 6 long weeks at the local animal shelter, waiting for a home. One day my car just drove itself to the shelter, and there she was. She had a massive wound to her face stitched together with 5 huge Frankenstein stitches. Though the injury happened at the shelter within days of her arriving, it still looked as if the stitches were taken yesterday. She was a day or two from being put down. Though I hadn’t wanted a dog at this particular time, Julia was coming home. It was complicated, it turns out that she had separation anxiety and needed a fair amount of conditioning to be left alone for a while without eating all the door jambs, but I work from home and it felt like it was meant to be that she would have someone around almost all the time. The thing was, when she came to live with us it was like all the lights were turned back on. We smiled all the time. She climbed on the bed and fell asleep with a sideways smile, and all the rules about where dogs sleep went out the window.
Life was so good, we wanted more of it. So we spotted two blond pups in need of a home on an internet rescue site, and they felt just right, too. Well a few days after these gorgeous creatures arrived, they just did not feel wall – and they had Parvo. The Parvo virus was likely contracted in traveling to come to us, and is very often deadly. It works by destroying the lining of the intestines, and the only treatment is to keep the dog hydrated and manage complications until it can fight off the virus itself. Well, Darcy made it through in a few days, but Cedar left us deciding each day if we would keep trying – for nearly two weeks. And Parvo is as close to torture as you can get without the Bush Administration.
I did not know at the time, but the two brothers would be the size of Great Danes. They can rest their chins on the kitchen counter with four feet on the ground. And life could not be better.

One and Done

For those of you keeping score at home, it takes approximately sixty seconds for a Jack Russell Terrier, once tied outside, to knock over the mums, knock over the pumpkin, and then get hopelessly tangled in a yard sign and then start yelping like you are being beaten.

Atta girl, Rosie.