Animal House: What's Mine is Yours

"All thing bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all."
Cecil Francis Alexander

"Shoo!" I continued a futile battle to make the stray pooch leave us alone. My kids and I were visiting the neighborhood park when this slobbering mass of affection intruded on our day. The kids were seven and ten...just old enough to develop persuasive arguments, and they fought valiently to keep this sweet pit bull. I allowed them to give her water and half a sandwich but when we headed home, the love affair was over. Or at least that was my plan. In spite of my best efforts (angry shouts, clapping hands and furious arm waving) the dog followed us home--at a distance.

It was hot outside so I sprayed her with the hose--she thought it was a game. I noticed she had full bags of milk. Wondering about her puppies and feeling really sorry for them, I put her in my car and drove her back to the park, hoping she'd go find her babies. Half hour later, she was sitting by the front door. My husband drove around asking if anyone was missing a dog, put up signs and we all searched for her babies. We took her to the vet only to discover that she had not given birth yet. (Yeah, we're city people) "She's really young and this is surely her first litter," he told us. "She'll probably only have one or two."

There were already two dogs and two cats in our family, and we didn't need more, but we figured any dog this persistant deserved a chance. We decided to let her deliver her pups, keep them until they were old enough then find good homes for mom and babies. We called her Brinny in honor of her brindle coloring. A couple days later that dog popped out a dozen puppies. Despite her sweet, caring nature, she was simply unable to meet all their needs. After another trip to the doc and the pet store to buy formula and bottles we created a schedule for each of us to take round-the-clock shifts to feed the new family.

We only lost one baby (who was accidentally smothered by mama), soon our house looked like a scene from 101 Dalmations...puppies everywhere. They thrived and were adorable in every shape, size and color combination. (I think Brinny was a bit of a free spirit!) Every puppy was adopted, followed by their mom. They each had been given shots, good food and lots of TLC. It cost us a small fortune and disrupted our lives for a couple of months but it's still a favorite memory we frequently recall and re-tell to others.

There are many homeless and mistreated dogs and cats in every community. You may not have the time, money or desire to invest as fully as we did in Brinny and her clan, but there are lots of ways to help. Donate a dollar when you buy food at Pets Mart, volunteer a little time at the Humane Society or other "no kill" shelter and don't forget about the local pound. You may not like the idea of supporting this government agency because they do have to euthanize some of the animals and are funded by the tax dollars. But keep in mind that this is a necessary endeavor as long as people don't take care of their animals. You might not like the
"Shoo!" I continued a futile battle to make the stray pooch leave us alone. My kids and I were visiting the neighborhood park when this slobbering mass of affection intruded on our day. The kids were seven and ten...just old enough to develop persuasive arguments, and they fought valiently to keep this sweet pit bull. I allowed them to give her water and half a sandwich but when we headed home, the love affair was over. Or at least that was my plan. In spite of my best efforts (angry shouts, clapping hands and furious arm waving) the dog followed us home--at a distance.
It was hot outside so I sprayed her with the hose--she thought it was a game. I noticed she had full bags of milk. Wondering about her puppies and feeling really sorry for them, I put her in my car and drove her back to the park, hoping she'd go find her babies. Half hour later, she was sitting by the front door. My husband drove around asking if anyone was missing a dog, put up signs and we all searched for her babies. We took her to the vet only to discover that she had not given birth yet. (Yeah, we're city people) "She's really young and this is surely her first litter," he told us. "She'll probably only have one or two."
There were already two dogs and two cats in our family, and we didn't need more, but we figured any dog this persistant deserved a chance. We decided to let her deliver her pups, keep them until they were old enough then find good homes for mom and babies. We called her Brinny in honor of her brindle coloring. A couple days later that dog popped out a dozen puppies. Despite her sweet, caring nature, she was simply unable to meet all their needs. After another trip to the doc and the pet store to buy formula and bottles we created a schedule for each of us to take round-the-clock shifts to feed the new family.
We only lost one baby (who was accidentally smothered by mama), soon our house looked like a scene from 101 Dalmations...puppies everywhere. They thrived and were adorable in every shape, size and color combination. (I think Brinny was a bit of a free spirit!) Every puppy was adopted, followed by their mom. They each had been given shots, good food and lots of TLC. It cost us a small fortune and disrupted our lives for a couple of months but it's still a favorite memory we frequently recall and re-tell to others.

There are many homeless and mistreated dogs and cats in every community. You may not have the time, money or desire to invest as fully as we did in Brinny and her clan, but there are lots of ways to help. Donate a dollar when you buy food at Pets Mart, volunteer a little time at the Humane Society or other "no kill" shelter and don't forget about the local pound. You may not like the idea of supporting this government agency because they do have to euthanize some of the animals and are funded by the tax dollars. But keep in mind that this is a necessary endeavor as long as people don't take care of their animals. You might not like the pound, but if you ever visit one, it will break your heart. The animals are left in small cells with concrete floors...very hot in summer and cold in winter. They don't have blankets or chew toys or even human affection because the budget is so limited. Consider giving to the pound or volunteering there as well.

Assuming you already have favorite places to spend your "giving back" money, a tiny bit more won't likely be noticed and will save the lives of countless animals who contribute so much to the quality of human lives. Any good rescue stories to share (how you saved an animal or one saved you?) Comment on the link below.
Diane Markins
Here is another simple (FREE) way to help per a reader's comment www.theanimalrescuesite.com

Pets are Better than Grandkids (Right?)

"Love the animals: God has given them the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled" ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

When many people see the odometer of their life roll over from the 40s to the 50s, they get to enjoy the new addition of grandchildren. Not so with my husband and me. Our kids are young and in less of a hurry than we are. So what we have are pets. I've decided to look on the bright side of this instead of pouting and complaining. There truly is a silver lining. Our pets are awesome! If we ever feed them late, yell at them or swat them for bad behavior, nobody calls the police.

Our Rottweiler, Ziggy is very smart. She knows many commands and is fairly obedient. Rocky, the yorky-poo knows fewer commands and has selective obedience--but what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in cute. The tom cat (who looks like Sylvester) is smarter than all of us but completely oblivious of our expectations--or even our existence, unless his dish is bare. But he is soft and cuddly (when he wants to be), which satisfies my need to hug something small and warm.

Once Ziggy ate a full pound of M & Ms. (I've tried this and it isn't a good idea.) We were unaware of her culinary adventure but noticed she was acting a little sluggish. Soon a strange odor permeated our house, but it was impossible to locate the source. After searching tirelessly for the mysterious stench, we picked up the sofa cushion and discovered that she'd performed a new trick. She'd lifted the cushion (presumably with her nose) and barfed on the lining of the couch, put the empty bag on top and set the cushion back in place. We had to throw the sofa away. How many grandchildren are this creative?

Grandchildren are often very choosy about their clothes. Our dogs go naked or wear any stupid thing we put on them (football jerseys, Halloween costumes, sunglasses...) Grandkids can be picky eaters. Our dogs will eat anything and they are very helpful about cleaning up. When I drop food while cooking, it usually doesn't even hit the floor. Now, that's a clear demonstration of ambition and dexterity.

Rocky can do a few tricks. He swims with the big dog and retrieves balls, he can dance and walk on his back legs (if I lead the way with a cookie), and he does heiny scoots on the rug sometimes. This last one was learned on his own and earns no rewards when he performs it. I have yet to see a grandchild with such natural talent.

If a grandchild wakes you up in the night, it means you have to take care of him. If my pets wake me up it means there is an intruder lurking nearby;they take care of us. Each time we come home (whether it's returning from buying milk or a week-long vacation) our animals are delighted and enthusiastic to see us. I've seen grandchildren run and hide—or at least do eye-rolls—when grandparents show up. Oh, and saying, "my grandchild..." makes you sound old, saying, "my little doggie" doesn't denote your age.

I believe I've made a good argument for my position: It is much better to have pets than grandchildren...at least until we get some of our own! (No pressure intended, kids) Share your pet exploits or grandparent stories below.
Diane Markins