Memorial

Forwarded to my dog park & border collie rescue friends.

Hope ya’ll are doing okay.

Sorry to go off this serious topic, but: I just tried to link to Journal of the Plague Year to catch up (been on vacation), and Blogger tells me it has been “removed” and the title isn’t available for new blogs. What? Does anybody know what’s up with Dave von Ebers??

I emailed with Dave and he took the blog off. He thinks that at this time for him, it is too much of a distraction for him to maintain it, and try to make a living for his family. Continue to look for his comments at the Generals and other associated places.

“…one can judge a people by how they treat their animals.”

David, my experience with cats has convinced me that they do not perceive themselves to be one of our animals, rather it’s the other way around. They are probably right about that.

Good point, Jake, as all cat owners can attest to.

I put up a post about this at Library Thing.

I just had to bury one of our rescue cats, a tom we named Pegleg. Pegleg was sleeping on the motor of a neighbor’s pickup truck when the neighbor started it up. Pegleg’s left front leg got caught in the fan belt and was permanently deformed, but he trooped on regardless. We fed him as a yard cat - he was not a tameable cat - and while skittish he hung out with the other cats and made himself totally at home. I think his kidneys finally failed. He died peacefully and I buried him beside the blind yard cat we also took in and fed until she died last year. I guess our yard out here on the edge of the Green Swamp is a haven of last resort for local non-house cats who cannot otherwise survive.

The four remaining yard cats include an aging tom who is about as battle-scarred as they come but who mostly behaves himself, a tom who is amazingly laid back, and two females (both spayed) who just showed up and never left. One is an attention sponge of the first order, and the other is affable but paranoid. Ain’t no two cats been alike in my lifetime of experience with cats.

I’m sure you are right David. Meanwhile, my niece had a healthy beautiful boy, and named him Riley. That’s interesting, because that’s also my grandson’s name. So the Life of Riley goes on!

News to warm the cockles of Lady Edith Layton’s cosmic heart, she who is now communing directly with the Great Lobster.

I’ll take up your challenge, David.

I only “rescued” my dog in the sense that, in the cosmic scheme of the universe, she was meant to be MY family’s dog: we understand, enjoy & love one another as only your own family can.

However, the wonderful folks at Great Lakes Border Collie Rescue took in Ali’s mother, Peaches. The routine blood work they do upon intake revealed that she had heartworm. The treatment for heartworm is dangerous- better than letting them live with a diseased heart, but still risky. The plan was to get the heartworm treated and then have her spayed- something else Peaches’ family hadn’t bothered with.

Y’all know where this is going, right? After two treatments, her foster mom realized that Peaches was showing all the symptoms of pregnancy. The heartworm meds were stopped, foster mom started planning a puppy nursery, and everybody held their breath, waiting to see how the pups had been affected by the treatment.

One pup out of the litter of 8 didn’t make it, but seven survived. Ali was the fourth one born, one of two tri-colors. All are doing great now- they turn five on July 9th. We see some of her siblings at the annual rescue reunion picnic. Peaches has been adopted by a lovely couple- retirees who take great care of her.

Here’s a link to pics of her as a puppy, and with 2 of her litter mates:
http://www.greatlakesbcrescue.org/HappyTailPhotos/HT32/HT32.htm

It’s Pat– congratulations!

That’s what I’m talking about, Aunt Sam, and those pictures are priceless. No way there wasn’t a huge smile on the Duchess of Rescue’s face when she read your post and clicked on the link to those photos.

You’re right, It’s Pat! And then there are those times in the wild when the correct thing to do is walk away, or if appropriate and allowable, put some creature out of its misery and then leave it.

Lobster love those people who can and do perform very demanding acts of animal mercy. I’ve been associated, off and on, with one of the premier rescuers, the Audubon Society, since junior high school. Raptor rescue is not for amateurs.