In which I make a request…Animals in shelters

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . December 21, 2010 . 5:08PM

Christmastime is special to me, as it is to most people. I’ve never lost my childlike wonder for the lights, the tree lots, the snow, the gifts, really, any of it. As I grow, though, parts of the holiday that are less enchanted seem to hit me like a truck and I can’t seem to shake them, no matter how hard I try.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the last couple of years reading about shelter animals and rescue dogs, and the number of puppies and kittens that are brought back to shelters after the holidays is staggering. I’m not going to get on my soapbox for long, but I would like to make a request in that I’d like for anyone that is considering a puppy this year to consider a couple of options.

One option is to consider a fully grown dog or cat from a shelter or a rescue site. Dogs are often trained and do well with children. They can be just as cute and cuddly as puppies and need just as much love. They are silly and friendly and sweet. They also piddle on the floor a lot less. Cats are independent and don’t need much to be amused. They are easily potty-trained and if you ever wanted to know what to do with empty toilet-rolls, now you know.

If you absolutely must have a puppy or kitten, please find them at a shelter, if you can. Shelters are overrun in the cold weather and the number of animals that are put to sleep is astounding.

Lastly, when you get your new animal, please take care of it’s doggy/kitty parts and make sure it can’t procreate. It helps keep the pet population down and animals from being stuck in poor situations.

My dog, Sophie, is one of the joys of my life. She was rescued by a family about 2 hours from where I live and I wouldn’t trade her for anything. When I’m sick she sleeps by my side. When I wake up in the morning she cuddles me. When I leave the house, she cries because she can’t go with me. As I type this, I sit cross-legged on my recliner. Sophie is at my feet. She wasn’t a puppy when I got her and she’s not the most beautiful dog in the world. I love her tremendously and she is one of my best friends.

You can see my right sidebar for Dogs in Danger, which is a site that lets you know about dogs that are in Kill shelters and need a home near you. You can also donate to the humane society there. You can google for shelters in your area and Petfinder.com often allows shelters to use them as a resource.

Please help save an animal this season. Dogs, cats, turtles, you name it, need a good home. If you choose an animal this year, please be a responsible pet owner.

The dog stands alone…

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 13, 2010 . 5:19AM

Sometimes I hate being a parent.

Blaspheme, right? It’s true. Part of being a parent means that I have to do the hard work such as disciplining my child when he misbehaves or chooses to mess around in class as opposed to choosing to learn and distract those around him. This makes my job as a parent difficult and unenjoyable.

Lately, AJ has been testing his independence and his boundaries at school. This week he forgot something necessary at school and, as such, he ended up going to bed early and his dog was not allowed to sleep in his bedroom. In this house, one thing is always true: Wherever my child goes, so goes his dog. There has never been a more loyal dog than that dachshund to her boy.

What I knew was that the separation of the two was going to hurt one person: me. Why is this? Because AJ was going to go to sleep and I was going to be left with the whiny, leaky eyed dog that would look at the gaited stairs and turn eyes on me that were alternately hateful, pitiful and pleading. This is exactly what happened. She would go to the gate at the stairs and stand there for 10 minutes at a time while looking up at the darkened stairs and waiting for him to come down to get her. When it didn’t happen, she would come to me, grunt sadly and run back to the stairs. Her message was clearly “Please let me be with him.”

I had to say no. Over 100 times in the 4 hours I was awake after he went to bed did I say no. Eventually, she wore herself out and curled up on my legs. When I finally went to bed she calmly waited at the gate for me to allow her up. When I didn’t, she whined at me and watched me climb the stairs. I glanced at her sadly and went to bed.

Two hours later, I awoke and, eyes half closed, headed for the bathroom door. I happened to look down the stairs and she sat there, quietly and patiently, waiting for her boy.

In the morning, I cannot imagine what their reunion was like, but my son has been on his best behavior ever since and she has not left his side. He also has not forgotten a single bit of work since. Sometimes, a reminder of the people we let down by our failures can be the most honest motivator in our lives.

And sometimes people aren’t actually people but the vision of a dog that loves you more than anything standing alone in the dark waiting for you to come for her…

Good Golly, Miss Molly

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 27, 2010 . 11:41PM

Oh dear. Oh my. Oh good golly.

One of my favorite things about summertime is the storms. The outrageous, amazing, beautiful, loud, house-shaking, booming, scary movie, better wrap yourself in a blanket and have some hot chocolate and snuggle with your honey thunderstorms that hit the South are this wondrous creation that you have to experience to believe. I’ve mentioned my love of the storms while I was growing up in Illinois. There are few things I like better than a good thunderstorm. I like to sit in my car and watch it through the sunroof. Or through the windows of my house. Or if I’m at a house with a screened in porch, that is the bees knees, right there. If a slight breeze is to be had to give me goose pimples, oh goodness, that is about the best to be had.

It’s about my idealized version of heaven.

I do love a good storm.

Not everyone shares my feelings of a storm. No, not everyone.

Not even everyone in my house. The humans are fine with it. Generally, they think of it as a burden to their baseball schedules. Well, with the exception of this human who clearly finds it a delightful slice of life. The turtle and the cat seem to be a-ok oblivious to the storm and think of it as another sound effect to a life of monotony. And 3 out of 4 dogs like to snuggle under the blanket and beg for the hot chocolate.

But that 1 dog…she is an unhappy little noodlehead when it comes to thunderstorms. She’s a much better predictor than the weatherman, bless his heart. I can tell a storm is coming about 45 minutes early. Her ears will perk and the whining starts. She can be in her kennel or in the house.

When she’s out of her kennel, immediately she jumps on the couch and her head goes into my lap. She begs for ear rubbing and looks at me like we are going to die. Right now. She’s serious. Rub her ears because we are going to bite it.

T-minus 20 minutes to storm. Her butt starts to wiggle and she tries to put all 35 pounds of her directly onto my lap.

T-minus 10 minutes to storm. I hear a wailing like that of a banshee who has been caught by a death eater who has just been told this is his last snack and he must om nom nom before lethal injection.

T-minus 3 minutes and counting. She paces the floor like an expectant father while continuing to wail and look at me like I’m a jerk who won’t stop the weather. This includes me looking at her like her voicebox is optional in dogs.

Storm-time. She is back in my lap, shaking like a leaf while I croon to her and whisper all kinds of human soothing noises that dogs don’t understand because, according to my son, “Dogs don’t speak English.” After about 5 minutes, Molly is fine again because, “Oh, hey, it’s just a storm.”

The three tiny dogs are looking at her like, “The big dumb dog just got it, let’s go fight over our chewy!” and the world is again at peace in the house.