Donut

Won’t You Be My Neighbour

August 19, 2018 By The Food Lady 6 Comments

I dunno about you, but my neighbours are SUPER nosy. They’re always staring at me.

Sometimes they bring some friends to lay around staring at me too.

It’s rude.

Also, some of my neighbours have kids. They’re super loud. How can tiny kids have such big lungs?!

Tasty, tasty kids …

The stupid turkey insisted on sitting and hatching outside of the poultry pen, and still refuses to bring her kids inside the pen. The property is pretty thoroughly fenced now (the perimeter, not my yard, which remains unfenced. *grumble*) so I am not worried about predators except for the ones that live in my rv with me. Because there are some certain skinny dogs and some terriorists that would eat those babies in a nanosecond. Yesterday I found the baby turkeys INSIDE the x-penned area I have for the dogs. The dogs were, fortunately, inside … except for Maisie, who was thinking up turkey recipes before she made her move. I shooed them out while fending off a hoard of hungry canines, but I don’t anticipate this ending well, necessarily, until I can convince mama turkey to join the community and stop living off grid.

I’m also not unconcerned about the cats eating the poults … this giant tin tube gets REAL hot when the weather is warm, so I have taken to leaving the door open so the dogs can come in and go out at will, rather than us all crammed inside here breathing and sweating on one another. That means I can’t keep my cats in, so for the first time in their lives, they are being indoor/outdoor cats. I was particularly worried about Donut, because on other occasions when she has escaped whatever house I was living in, she wouldn’t ever come back inside and I’d have to live trap her. But now she seems to have settled into the idea that it won’t be her only taste of freedom and she will happily come back inside in the evening when I tap the tin of wet cat food with the fork. She even lets me pet her when she’s outside, which is amazing. But if you recall from my time in the penthouse apartment in the West End, she was known as The Serial Killer Tinker Nuts, who caught and killed birds on the rooftop deck with sociopathic glee. I would not put it past her to eat a turkey poult or two if she can sneak them away from Mama Turkey.

Cyrus is the one that’s killin’ me though. He wanders much further afield than ‘Nutz does; she stays mostly close to home, but Cyrus goes to visit the neighbours (including the cattle and buffalo) on a regular basis. He seems to stay away from the road, but coyotes live in them-there grasses, so I worry about him all the time. But what I don’t worry about is feeding him, because every morning our routine goes like this: I let everyone out into the xpen area to hang out while I go feed and water the poultry, and the cats wander off to do cat things … then I take the dogs out in small groups to potty, then I feed them breakfast and I sit down with my cup of coffee at the dining room table. And every morning by that time, Cyrus has caught himself a fat, tasty field mouse and I watch him come ambling across the parking lot with the mouse in the mouth, so he can eat it under the rv. If he catches something he does not like the taste of (such as shrews, or moles) he simply leaves them under the rv for safe keeping. If he catches more than he can eat, he does the same thing, and then Addy eats it. Blech. So much deworming in everyone’s future.

The air quality here is really bad right now, because once again our province is on fire. It’s been unreasonably hot this summer, again, which I’m starting to think is our new normal – pre-Apocalyptic :( It’s all smokey and hazy outside, and I am reluctant to run the dogs in it, so I’m glad we went to our Super Secret Swimming Hole a few days ago when the sky was blue and you could see the sun.

Fae, otoh, was not impressed that I suggested she should swim to retrieve the ball if she wanted a cookie, no matter what the weather was like.

A few weeks ago, I photographed a dock diving event, which was awesome … it looked like a lot of fun for the dogs! There’s some rumour that a dock diving pool might be unveiled ’round these parts soon, and I still think I’ve found a use for Peetie, finally, as while she sucks at pretty much everything, she is really enthusiastic about diving into the water.

…although ….

Crazy Miss Maisie would also make a hella dock diver I think. I keep trying to shove into the faces of dog dock enthusiasts, but no luck yet.

I actually find her quite pleasant to live with – she’s developed a nice off switch, and she’s pretty easy going in the house, and will amuse herself if nobody else wants to play with her. Although yesterday I made Winter drop a not-quite-hatched turkey egg he purloined from Off Grid Mama’s abandoned nest and she scarfed it up, maggots and all, and ran away LIKE HER ASS WAS ON FIRE, munching it down the whole time. Can you bleach the inside of a puppy? SO GROSS. So clearly we need to work on “hey, how about you give me the ball of maggots in exchange for this hot dog?” or similar.

Anyway, she’s not difficult to have around, and she mostly listens pretty well, and she doesn’t run away all the time, a la Silly. Who, by the way, is doing really well in Belize in his new home! His human recently sent me this:

“My friend and I went to a dog show in the capital city just for fun. Decided to take Hero, Titan and Silly. They asked us if we wanted to enter into it when we were walking around with them. Figured why not? Silly ended up taking first place in obedience and the obstacle course!! I was so scared he was going to get ADD with the obedience cause there was so much activity but he did absolutely amazing ☺️ Not in the country even a week and he’s charming everyone ❤️❤️ so proud of him.“

So how much awesome is that?? I do miss his full body contact hugs though, he was greatly affectionate … but he’s landed himself a pretty cushy life. I’m a bit jealous … I would like to live in Belize, I’m pretty sure.

But back to the beach! Spring got a cookie for hopping on and off these pilings, because it amused me, and then she wouldn’t stop doing it. She knows an easy gig when she’s landed one!

She makes me laugh all the time, she is such a ridiculous little dog.

Addy did the piling-jumping once, but even for cookies, it paled in comparison to the satisfaction she apparently gets from digging up wet sand. She’ll do it for two solid hours. I love this little skinny thing beyond measure, but I really don’t think there is a lot going on upstairs in tiny-head land.

Then there’s Wootie, who is very very deaf now (whether that’s physiological or willful, only he knows) but can still hear me well enough to give me this look when I tell him I’m going to steal his Wootie Stick and chuck it in the water.

But you can’t really blame him, because his poor nekkid tail looks absolutely ridiculous when he swims. Like a little, sad, hairless rudder. I’m surprised he doesn’t sink; I always thought it was his Flamoyance(tm) that kept him buoyant.

And Deafter, who loves to swim…

… but also suffers some “someone might steal my ball” anxiety and spends a lot of beach time hunched over his hockey ball protectively in the sand.

He’s so handsome no matter what he does, even when his stupid tongue is hanging out. And he’s my go-to posing dog for test shots, from sunset OCF to lavender. He’s the best. And he’s going to be – this will BLOW YOUR MIND – nine years old in four days. NINE!!!!

Love my big guy so much :)

(feeling old yet??)

Happy Birthday Piper!!

November 18, 2016 By The Food Lady 15 Comments

Today is Miss Piper’s 14th birthday! That’s right, the Grand Dame, the Matriarch, She Who Shall Be Obeyed has stalked this planet for 14 years, putting an end to noisy play fighting and raisin’ up fosters right! About once a year she tries to kill herself in a spectacularly bizarre way, but in the end, she keeps on truckin’. Here’s to many more years together, Fabulous Miss P!

This sweet, generous, kind soul has a message for everyone on this, the day of her 14th birthday:

F*ck you, don’t touch my cake.

F*ck you too, don’t touch my cake either.

And f*ck you, don’t touch my cake.

Fuck you. Don’t. Touch my. Cake.

Isn’t she just the cutest?

(Special thanks to Auntie Fiona for picking up the “f*ck you don’t touch my” cake.)

It’s my birthday too – I am exactly 30 years older than Piper. It used to be the WooTWoo’s birthday as well, until I actually read their paperwork and found out they were born in the summer. Piper is happy not to have to share her birthday with anyone else. I’m pretty sure she wishes she didn’t have to share it with me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PIPER!!

Outside Now

November 7, 2015 By The Food Lady 12 Comments

“We go outside now?”

“Outside? Now? Now”

“Ok. We go now. Outside.”

Poor bored doggies. It has been monsooning – like relentless, sideways, non-stop pouring rain – for over 24 hours. It’s possible my chickens have had to learn to swim. I just could not bring myself to deal with 9 muddy, soggy dog beasts. So we played with the camera indoors instead, which Dexter did not feel was a passable substitute.

“Excuse me? Boring Lady? I’d still like to go play outside.”

“I would also vote for going outside.”

She’s going to be 13 this month! I forget it constantly. I watched Tweed get older so keenly, so carefully, alert to every nuance of his aging body, that I forgot that the rest of them are getting older too. At work we see all these “old” dogs that come through and they are weak, and frail and failing (and smelly, and nails overgrown, and teeth rotting out of their heads). And their owners come to get them (sometimes) and tell us their dog is “ten” or “he’s old, he’s 12” when we mention there are some problems with his health. So when I look at 13 year old Piper I just don’t see an old dog, because she is so vibrant and youthful. I can really see the difference if I look at photos of her when she was young, but when she is just passing on by me going about her daily business, I don’t see a senior dog.

Well, mostly not anyway. Once in a while she projects her senior “my brain is empty now!” face at me.

I thought the WooTWoo would be entering their second decade this month right along with Piper, since I gave them all the same birthday (it’s easier for me to remember that way; some of us ARE getting old, after all). But the other day I was leafing through Wootie’s intake paperwork (he was an owner surrender to the shelter that released him to me) and realized his birthday is in July. Which means he and his (slightly vacant) brother turned 10 last July. Oops.

“Thanks Food Lady. Thanks for really getting to know us. It means a lot to us.”

Did I say “slightly vacant?” I meant “highly judgmental.”

So obviously they were pretty unimpressed with me, for being the worst owner ever (don’t know their birthdays, won’t take them out to hunt rabbits in a hurricane).

But the power of cookies is a higher power indeed. Capable of moving both mountains and grouchy personalities.

I still have no idea when the birthday of the other two siblings might be. Don’t even know how old they are, really.

But they couldn’t give a shit, because they are terriers and they don’t really give a shit about anything.

Terriers are like cats that way. Just don’t give a shit.

(Where is Winter’s neck?)

You know who else doesn’t give a shit? Fae. She is completely, obstinately, unshakably oblivious to how much it hurts my back when she climbs into my computer chair behind me and makes herself comfortable. At least one of us is comfortable. As time passes, she slowly pushes me forward until I am balancing on the edge of my chair, my ass going numb and legs all pins and needles, while she slumbers away behind me. And no matter how many times I lift her off the chair and hurl to a dog bed on the floor, the stupid little ninja hound clambers right back into “her” spot and resumes her endless nap. She’s doing it RIGHT NOW and I am positive I chucked her off the chair a half hour ago. It HURTS.

Coy little witch.

Sometimes there is hardly room for me at all at my computer, with Addy in the front sucking up all my body heat inside my sweatshirt, and Fae in the back kicking (literally) my ass. But there is now slightly less of Addy, as we had to have her two top front teeth taken out as they were rotting away in there. That came as a kind of surprise, as my dogs never seem to have any significant dental issues and the rest of her teeth look fantastic. And let’s be honest, how often do you lift the lips of your needle nosed Italian Greyhound to look at the front of her mouth? I routinely lift up the sides of her lips (because I am infantile, and I like to make growling sounds whilst I do it, as though she were my snarling ventriloquist’s dummy) but never the front. And then one day I did and it turned out the top two were wriggling away in their sockets. So the vet took ’em out and said everything else looked great. And now Addy looks like someone punched her in the teeth with a really teensy tiny little fist.

I’m going to call it “charming.” Like Addy herself – she is a perpetually joyful puppy, so happy about everyone and everything. Except the rain and the cold, which she hates so very much. If she goes out naked she can’t move because it’s too cold. If she goes out in her full Hurrta slush combat jumpsuit she can’t move because IT’S A STRAIGHTJACKET AND SHE IS DYING. I’m going to have to move somewhere that’s warm year-round, just for her.

But I won’t bring this with me. I really gotta put him up for adoption. I haven’t because he likes me SO much and he is such a NICE puppy. He’s so pleasant to have around, so sensitive and eager to please, goes into spasms of joy just from getting a snuzzle and being told he is a good boy.

He is absolutely the perfect mix – he got the border collie brains without the weird, and the Lab happy without the duh. He’s going to make someone just the most once-in-a-lifetime buddy. That’s why it’s so hard to part with the little booger.

Come on, look at that face. Don’t you just wanna take him home?

‘Tis the season to be thankful

December 8, 2011 By The Food Lady 9 Comments

…unless you’re TWooie.

We got a giftie in the mail from a lovely blog reader this week! She sent us a quick release leash thingie for TWooie’s collar, so there will be no more broken-finger incidents. And as an added bonus, she sent us this giant donut, which TWooie does not want on his head. But TWooie does want cookies. And so this photo came to pass.

The toy, however, was an immediate and massive hit with all the other dogs. The day I brought it home I had to remove it from the dogs about 4 times before I wised up and locked it in the washing machine (we’re short on cupboard space around here) until today, when we finally had daylight in which to use it.

It’s GREAT gift, because some FAT DOGS really needed to get their runnin’-and-jumpin’ on.

And it’s popular among the BIG

the little

and the greedy alike

It also started a few all-out wars.

Get your pointy little snout OFF MY DONUT.

But it also convinced Widdle Riddle to play, so it was worth it.

And boy did we need the exercise. Our Santa Photo Day on Saturday was another incredible success, with over 60 customers. We ran an hour over time and had to turn people away at the end, as were exhausted, and didn’t want to take advantage of Triple Tree’s generosity in letting us use their space. And since then I’ve had to work every day, so I’ve done nothing but work, edit photos, and sleep. Which means I had 7 very restless dogs who were dying to get out and play! So all hail the Christmas Gift Donut.

A few of my favourite photos from the weekend:

Dexter’s sister Ginny, who says “Bah Humbug” to Santa.

My photography partner Jen’s dog Nyxie, having a special moment with the man in the red suit.

This photo is very special, because it was the last time we saw old lady Kelsey. She passed away two days later. Rest in peace, Kelsey.

And this one I made special for Auntie Fiona, because Tempus is Devilspawn, so sentimental Christmas photos just won’t do for him.

And just for fun … Ginny and Dexter, the most fashionable sibling reindeer EVAH.

Being a photographer is SO MUCH FUN.

Thanks to everyone who came out in support of our fundraiser, and special thanks to The Giver of Donuts. It was filthy after our session today, so I’m about to go if it made it through the washing machine okay (this time I was actually washing it, not storing it).

DON’T TAKE MY DONUT!!

Vampire Puppy

November 14, 2010 By The Food Lady 16 Comments

missed Halloween by two weeks.

Oh I went and visited some sweet sweet Candy Puppies today, oh yes I did! It was a week ago today that I dropped them off and 6 days since I saw them last, so a visit was long overdue.

But first.

FREE TO GOOD HOME: TWOOIE

Cuz he ate one of my cats.

Just kidding. It’s always a bad idea to give an animal away for free.

I’m also kidding about the cat. Carl is just fine, and bossily demanding a cookie.

I was tossing them into the restless crowds to get funny shots, and also to fix whatever setting I screwed up on the flash while playing with puppies.

But mostly because it’s fun to photograph. hahahahaha!

tee hee hee!

And say, have you ever looked *really* closely a cat tongue? It’s creepy!

Anyway, I managed to fix the settings on my flash, and the settings I did have it on explains why it was so difficult to get decent photographs of the puppies in action. I know puppies are fast, but it’s not like they’re border collies!

Clearly, they are German Shepherds.

They have grown SO FREAKIN’ MUCH since I saw them last!! Holy crow. And they are busy little things too, pouncing, barking, wrestling … way more active than they were. Much of this can be attributed to the massive worm load they were carrying :( On the Monday after I dropped them off, the foster home emailed in a bit of a panic saying that the smallest girl, Pixie, was pooping blood. I drove over like a bat out of hell repeating “No parvo, no parvo, no parvo, no parvo” the whole way. Upon arrival, Pixie greeted me with another load of bloody poop … and 4 or 5 wriggling roundworms. GROOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

I dewormed everyone on the spot and then left poor Hilary to deal with the aftermath. Nearly two straight days of a mass exodus of roundworm evacuating puppy innards. It seems that immediately afterward, the pups doubled in size, upped their activity level, and drained poor Ruth dry as a well.

Food Lady … save me. Please.

The pups sure are changing every day. I hope I managed to get all of them.

Here’s Mars. We call him the “Spike” of the bunch (aka Dexter) as he is big, bold and bossy. Loads of personality.

Smartie, with his little Hitler mustache, was tough to photograph because he spent virtually the entire visit sitting in my lap. Super people oriented, and really attentive to my every move. “He sure loves you!” Hilary kept saying. “I’m not taking him home, so shut up” I kept replying.

Snickers is a lovely in between, middle of the road puppy. He’s friendly, but not pushy, and happy to play with whomever. Maybe a little bit on the shyer side – but by no means shy. This is a super outgoing, people oriented litter.

Twix looks like a monkey from Planet of the Apes. Maybe that’s not a very nice thing to say, but it’s totally true. And she’s the only one who can speak … she kept saying “AnnaMommy.” (mwa ha ha ha. Hi Anna!) She is a super nice little pup, independent, but not anti-social.

The four “black” puppies surprised me the most. Because they are no longer black, except for Aero. Here’s Aero with Tootsie and Pixie, or possibly with Henry and Tootsie, or maybe Henry and Pixie. I dunno. I just know that’s Aero in the middle there being black and white, while his siblings change to sable / brown around him. He was asleep most of the time I was there so we didn’t hang too much.

Aero

And here’s Henry, who is a very confident little bossy boots. He barked at me when I ignored him, and tried to pants me. He’s smart as a whip already, and I quite like him! He looks really super shepherdy.

This is sister Tootsie, aka the vampire puppy, who is really not a vampire at all. She’s actually very sweet, and quite cuddly.

And last, but my no means least, my very favourite puppy, Pixie. She is the smallest pup in the litter, and just a total dreamboat. She likes nothing better than to fall asleep in the crook of my arm, where she moans and groans and sighs. *melty*

I think it’s pretty clear that at least one daddy in the bunch was a German Shepherd, or something mixed with GSD, don’t you? We have had a whole lot of applications for the puppies, and I really hope nobody drops out because the pups may be mixed with something a bit larger. They are really the sweetest puppies I have had the pleasure of fostering, ever. They are sweeter even than Dexter’s litter, who from the time they opened their eyes were on a mission to seek and destroy everything that moved. These guys are much more about people.

EATING people, that is!

Just kidding. They aren’t even as chompy/bitey – both these little guys were trying to nurse my fingers.

I *heart* them!! I don’t think Ruth does though.

I could barely tear myself away, because their antics were so cute! They’re dragging each other around by the hair, and trying to sneak up on each other, and shaking stuffy toys to death. I only wish I’d had the correct settings on the flash so that I could show you some of those antics. I guess I’ll just have to go back for another visit this week!

Please don’t leave us, Food Lady!

Please don’t come back again unless you are going to pay some attention to us senior dogs, kthx. My name is Cracker, and I am sad.

Doesn’t it just make your heart go SQUEEEE?

Anyhoo … the dingo is now at SAINTS. And judging from Carol’s blog, I do believe I’m glad she has it instead of me ;-)

If My Dogs Were People …

October 2, 2010 By The Food Lady 57 Comments

The other morning I was walking along with my dogs when Dexter came over for a friendly lean against my leg and a pat on the noggin. Then he spied Piper going by with a frisbee in her teeth and he got all intense and stare-y and I heard myself say “Day-um, you’re a good lookin’ dog, yessir,” in much the same way I might say “Day-um, Alcide looks good with his shirt off, mmmhmmm,” while watching True Blood or similar. Then I thought “Man, if you were a dude, you’d be like the hottest dude of them all.”

And he would, you know. Dexter would be named, like, Chad or something. He’d be the guy that *all* the girls, hands down, would have a crush on. He’d probably play a sport or something, like on an ice hockey team of other cool guys, mostly made up of local semi-famous musicians and radio celebrities, or rock climbing. He’d have a good job that paid pretty well, and he would have really modern furniture and know all the cool bands, but he totally wouldn’t be a hipster. He’d be super normal, and could cook decently too.

He’d be really personable and nice to everyone, cool or not. Even to the nerdy dork that nobody likes.

Mr. Woo, on the other hand, would be that guy that everyone likes and NOBODY has a crush on. He’d so be that guy that all the gals think is “just so awesome” but not in a hot-guy kinda way (probably because he’s short). In fact, pretty much everyone would like him, but nobody would really know anything about him. He’d be super intellectual but not nerdy, and could drop these esoteric facts about stuff nobody else know, and all his friends would love it, cuz he’d be just so quirky.

He’d make everyone laugh, and you’d see him out all the time at all the right /cool places, but nobody would ever have been to his house.

And that’s probably because he lives with his brother, who is like a socially autistic version of him. A little guy who’s not quite as smart as Woo is, and has a bit of a chip on his shoulder. People would be polite to him because he’s Woo’s brother, but behind his back they’d be all “that guy is so weird, man.” He’d some weird hobbies, like archery, and if you pissed him off, he’d be super Rage Guy, getting really mad really fast. And then he’d go off in a huff.

Piper’d be that girl that all the guys kinda like, but aren’t really sure why, because she’s hot, but totally intimidates them, and all the other girls are like “she is such a bitch” behind her back. But they’d all try really hard to be her friend, because they’d be intimidated by her too. She wouldn’t be that smart, but she’d really manipulative, and she would have this social circle of people she bossed around all the time.

Her best friend would be Tweed, and he’d be gay.

I’m not the only person who does this kind of thing, am I?? Hello?? Friends and fans? Anyone?

In all seriousness though, I am sometimes taken aback by how *handsome* Dexter has become. It’s hard to believe the funny little floppy puppy with the mismatched ears

has become this strapping, confident, masculine dog with such striking features.

And it’s not just me. People I meet up with who haven’t seen him in a while say things like “Holy cow, did he ever turn out nice!!” and “Wow, he is so handsome!” Because he is! And he is a NICE dog too, now that he’s gotten over his underpants fetish, and attitude with other puppies/dogs. He loves absolutely all people he meets, and he is always checking in with me for a smile or, if he is feeling particularly affectionate, a hug.

This is sometimes inconvenient.

But it’s also 100 kinds of awesome. He’s the only one of my dogs who makes me feel like when he comes for some affection, he’s doing it because he wants to share some love, not because he just wants his butt scratched (Tweed) or to get my attention so I will throw something (Piper) or because he believes I owe it to him (The WooTWoo). He just seems to like hanging out with me.

This more than makes up for the few months back there were I think I may have actually hated him for a while.

And because I haven’t posted a TWoo update recently,I would just like to say that I still love the little bugger, even if he is BAD, VERY BAD! As his confidence continues to rise on the scale of Normal Dogdom, he has taken to bossing me around some. It must be the Aussie influence; when TWoo wants something from me these days, he BARKSBARKSBARKS at me. If he thinks he needs another walk, he paws at me and if I ignore him, he BARKS. If I am practicing self control exercises at the door where everyone must sit stay until I say their name and let them out the door, he BARKS. When I tell him to shut up, he BARKS back at me. TWooie says he has almost 5 years of silent cowering to make up for, and he says that LOUDLY by BARKING at me. When he’s not totally ignoring me.

He’s still a buttface with other dogs too. Today he decided to beat up Lola. Lola is this little teeny border collie / cattle dog mix that is up for adoption through TDBCR.

Her foster mum brought her over today so we could get some photos for the website. She’s really cute! Totally full of energy too, someone is going to really get a fantastic dog in this one.

I offered to trade foster dogs with Lola’s foster mum, but she said no. I can’t imagine why, unless it has something to do with the fact that West bit her :(

I’m sorry.

He is so afraid, it makes me feel very badly for him. Foster home was kneeling down petting Wootie, with her back to West, and paying no attention to him at all. He had just successfully sniffed her and went in for what I thought was another sniff and bit her in the arm – he only got her shirt, but it was no accident. He then peed himself right then and there, because the whole thing freaked him out so badly. Freaked me out too. Because no matter how badly I feel for him, he can’t do this – biting people is bad news, mostly for him.

The only thing I can think to try for him is to put him on an anti-anxiety / anti-depressant and see if I can’t bring his anxiety down a few notches, enough to start reintroducing him to the world without being so petrified of everything. But I can’t tell you how much I wish we could try this experiment in someone else’s home. I know that my house is too chaotic for him – although he sucks up to me something fierce, and no longer falls asleep standing up because he’s too afraid to lie down, he still bolts from the room when I stand up and if his crate door isn’t open he panics and sometimes pees himself.

Whoever ruined this adorable little dog should really be ashamed of themselves.

It makes me mad.

It makes Donut mad too.