Category Archives: Pets


Those three dogs charged Cait and Owen again this afternoon. They were getting into her car in my driveway, and the dogs came out of nowhere.

I ran out the front door, screaming and waving my arms, charging them hard. I chased those sonsabitches all the way up to the holes in their fence, through which they returned to their yard. Their owner, who was sitting on his butt watching his giant-screen TV, came to the back door to let them in, and I started yelling at him.

I told him how we are getting charged by these dogs every single day, how my two-year-old grandson gets charged, my eight-year-old son can’t even ride his scooter without getting chased and barked at, how they might not bite, but who knows? I told him how aggressive they are, and pointed out the holes in the fence. Ryan was right behind me, yelling and backing me up. We were a sight, I admit.

The dog owner didn’t apologize, just told me it was on his list of things to do. I begged him to fix it right away. He shrugged and went inside.

I expected nothing and thought about what I would do when it happened again.

When we returned from a dinner out, Decky, Bill and I saw that the dog owner had put up some wire fencing by a couple of the holes. He left at least one or two still unblocked, but we were so happy to see that he had done something, anything.

All we can hope is that tomorrow he’ll cover the other holes, and we won’t ever have to be scared walking out our front door again.
Because, let me tell you, it won’t be pretty. Nobody threatens my babies’ safety – nobody.

Can’t win

So our dog Ruthie has had a urinary incontinence problem for the past month or so. Not pretty.

I thought it might be behavioral, but it’s not. She leaves a small puddle whenever she gets up, especially after sleep.
So we put her on an antibiotic. Made her urine better, but she still wets.
Switched her back to her old expensive dog food. No change.
Got her another antibiotic, to cover any bacteria the first one missed. Four days into it, still no better.
So the vet recommended that she be on a drug twice a day for the rest of her life. She might be having this incontinence due to being spayed. I guess it’s not uncommon.
So I gave her the first pill this afternoon. After I shampooed the carpet again and got rid of the six pee spots that accumulated over the past two days.

She puked twice. On the carpet. And she’s running around with blown pupils because she’s all hepped up on goofballs.

I just can’t win.

The Winter of Daisy

Daisy is our oldest dog. She is either fifteen or sixteen – we’re not quite sure. We got her from a pound in Hinsdale Illinois. We’ve had her since December 23, 1995.

She’s nearing the end of her life, I think. She fell down some steps this morning. I didn’t have the heart to ask her to try them again, so I’ve been letting her out in the front of the house. I noticed she didn’t each hardly any of her dinner. She’s sleeping now.

She shakes and shivers occasionally now. We know she can’t see much anyway, but now her eyes have a very tired, glazed-over look to them. She’s been stone-deaf for a while.

She is not perky. If you know Daisy, you know that she is usually very perky. In fact, that has always been the word to describe her demeanor. Or maybe crazy.

She’s been with us since Bro was six. He says she is his other mother. It will be hard on the family to lose her. I hope she can make the decision herself when the time comes. I don’t want to have to put her down, but I will if I have to. I love her that much.

PS It wasn’t Daisy peeing on the carpet, by the way. It was Ruthie. She has a urinary tract infection. And yes, she’s on antibiotics now.

It’s official: I’m going to hell

So I was shampooing the carpet in the living room this evening. Bubba was in the bathroom. The Princess and O’Baby were downstairs getting him ready for bed. The dogs were outside. The bird was on top of her cage, eating cereal.

Or so I thought.

I backed up while shampooing the carpet and stepped on something that went “SQUAK!” There were feathers everywhere, and there was Weet, limping around on the floor behind me.

God help me, I stepped on the bird.

I scooped her up, but she jumped off my hand because her foot hurt. I scooped her up again and quickly put her back in her cage.

I rushed around picking up all the feathers before Bubba got out of the bathroom. What would he say? He’ll kill me! Oh my God! I hope she’s okay. I hope I didn’t kill her. All she wanted was to sit on my shoulder while I run the shampooer, just like always. That poor thing!

She was favoring her left leg. She had only on tiny feather left on her tail. There was a spot of blood on the cage. I called my friend Maria, who has nine birds and is an expert.

She asked me lots of questions, told me to watch the bird for a while and call her in an hour with an update.

In the meantime, I finished shampooing the rug (who am I?), taking frequent breaks to speak words of love to the bird. She kept limping around, but responded to my voice. Eventually she stopped limping.

I called Maria with the update, and she reassured me that the bird would be okay, she was just a little shocked. Maria also told me it was good that the bird wasn’t pooping blood. Jeez.

Bubba was concerned, but soon turned to his DS for comfort. The Princess, surprisingly, felt very bad and was worried about the poor bird. I thought she hated her. I guess not.

Anyway, let’s hope poor Weet is alive in the morning. Or I just won’t be able to live with myself.