Tuesday, 05/01 Just when things are going well, the other shoe drops so to speak. Sunday evening I was getting ready to put the trash out for collection so I cleaned out the fridge. I don't like to put that stuff out in the trash receptacle earlier in the week when the weather's warm the way it has been lately because it gets pretty ripe, so if I need to clean the fridge I do it on Sunday nights then put the receptacle out on the curb. I pulled out some old jars of minced garlic and some garlic pickles that had gotten a little too piquant for my taste and put them down the garbage disposal. The sink backed up. I got out my little plumber's helper and went to work, but was unable to get rid of the clog. Then I realized that the problem wasn't with the sink but further down the line; when I was plunging, there was liquid shooting out of the pipe the washer drains into. Lovely - dirty water, smelling very strongly of garlic, all over my laundry room floor. Got it cleaned up as best I could and called the management company yesterday morning and told them to get a plumber out here with a snake to get rid of the clog in the pipe. Then I got both buckets, opened the cleanout, and at least got the backed up water from the sink to drain out. The plumber finally came about 6:30 last night and, after he was gone, I finally got the garlic smell out of here. Peeyooie!

Friday morning I made an emergency transport run. There was a post at the Rescue and Adoption board about a couple of 5-year old Maltese that needed to be rescued or they'd be taken to the pound. A rescuer north of me agreed to take them, but couldn't get down here to get them. The owner brought them (from where he lives an hour and a half east of me) to work with him (about 5 minutes away from me), I picked them up, and drove them an hour and a half to meet the rescuer who had driven an hour to meet me. I got an e-mail from the rescuer this morning, and she's already found a home where she can place them together. Good deal.

Had a bit of a scare last night - I came in here to check e-mail and when I returned to the living room I saw that the screen was missing from the window above the couch. Spit. Did a quick headcount to see who was missing, then went to go look for the two escapees. I opened the back door and Purrnie (who I'm sure was the stinker who pushed the screen out) came zipping back in. Mysz was exploring the back yard about 10 feet from the door, and came over to me with a little coaxing. I've got to figure out a way to prevent this from happening again. I'm thinking either a dowel jammed into the windowframe from the outside up against the bottom of the screen, or some sort of grating inside that would prevent them from reaching the screen. Fortunately, it's going to get cooler after today so the windows probably won't be open much for the next week or so, and I'll only open them enough to get air in here but not wide enough for an escape until I figure something out.

The weather sure has been nice here the last few days. Sunny, dry, high temps in the mid-70's to 80, about 15 degrees higher than average for this time of year. I haven't put the window fan in the bedroom yet though, because it still gets pretty cold at night and I know it's going to cool back down again before it gets warm for good. We're expecting a big cooldown after Thursday when it's supposed to rain all day. Oh goody, muddy feet again.

I started Blizzard on a homeopath last Wednesday, to be given every 3rd day for 3-4 weeks. She got her first doses Weds., her second doses Saturday, and her first of three doses today to be followed by 2 more. There's already a lot of improvement, and I'm really interested in seeing what 3 weeks' worth will do. She's calmer, more obedient, much easier to get along with, and less moody. Blonde said the problem was neuralgia; neuralgia would make anybody cranky and it's obvious to me that Blizzard feels better. She's so good about letting me dose her, too; she sees me headed her way with my yellow plastic spoon and she lays down and waits for me to stick it in between her gum and lip in the back, then lies quietly and gets pets while the pellets dissolve. I wonder if she understands it's making her feel better?

May first - heartworm pill day for everyone! And everyone gets a thorough physical going-over today, too.

Sunday 5/6 Fred the beagle went home with his new family today. Their app was approved over 2 weeks ago but they couldn't get down to the last adoptions to meet the dogs they were interested in - Rhys, Raggs, and Tammy (a Shih Tzu puppymill rescue with some medical problems). That's quite a variety of types and behaviors - Rhys, a 3-year old Irish Red & White Setter, a sedate fellow but an experienced hunter; Raggs, a year-old English Setter/Border Collie mix, very sweet affectionate boy, but a high-energy heathen; and Tammy. Tammy's foster mom decided to adopt Tammy, and the person who did the homecheck told them she thought Raggs would be "too much dog" for them, so they came down last Saturday to meet Rhys. I knew that Rhys wasn't the right dog for them. He's a good boy, but an experienced hunter with a lot of prey drive and they have cats. I can manage him for the short-term, but I won't place him in a home with cats, especially with first-time dog owners. He hasn't been a problem thus far but his interest in the cats makes me uncomfortable enough that I've put him on a waiting list to go to a cat-less foster home. Anyway, I knew they wouldn't understand why he wasn't right for them until they met him, and when I contacted them to arrange a time for them to meet him I said "If it's OK with you, I'd like to bring Fred along too - I think he'd be a very good match for you." They came down, they met Rhys, immediately agreed that he wouldn't be a good match, met Fred and fell in love. They needed to make some repairs to their fence before they could take him home, so they did that this week, and picked him up at adoptions today. I hope he's settling in well, but I'm sure he will - Fred's an easy-going, happy boy who'll be content with anyone who'll love him, feed him, and let him lay in the yard in the sun.

I was supposed to get a 7-month old beagle mix owner-surrender today, but the owner found him a home themselves. I hope it works out for him. This evening, one of the board members brought me a little "special needs" girl named Katie instead. When they told me about her this week and asked me to work with her, they told me she was 7-8 months old, abused, and had some emerging dominance problems. She passed most of the temperament test, but every time they tried to check her teeth she bit - but didn't bite down on - the hand of the person who was doing the temp test. The person who temp tested her said it was more than puppy-mouthing, it was definitely a "get away from my head" warning, told me the temporary foster mom wasn't the right person to work with Katie, and asked me if I was willing. Sure, why not? So Katie the Sheltie/Rottie mix arrived tonight. (When I saw her pic, I told the temp tester she had Rottie in her; "no, can't be Rottie, she's only about 30 pounds - way too small for a Rottie.") She's not 7-8 months old, she's probably around 4 months old. Still has all her baby teeth. (Yes, I've been able to check her teeth. Even rub her gums with my fingers without a problem.) So I was right - she is part Rottie. If she was this size at 6-7 months she'd be too small, but at 4 months she's just about the right size to be a Rottie/Sheltie mix. (Definitely some Sheltie in there, too - she's got the cutest little Sheltie ears!) I haven't seen even the tiniest bit of defiance or dominance. If I move my hands suddenly she cowers, and she's a little timid but very sweet - came and laid in my lap and rested her head on my shoulder. And dear, sweet, perceptive Penny has already been able to engage her in gentle play. Katie's going to be just fine, and I think I'm going to enjoy having her here.

Punch has been awfully social lately. Yesterday morning I was awake but still laying in bed cuddling when he came into the bedroom and stopped and sat down about 2 feet from the bed. Just sat there looking at me. So I casually put out my hand and wriggled my fingers at him (while pretending not to look at him) and he started playing pattycake. Cautiously, he patted my fingers. Then patted again, and again. Then sniffed my fingers. Pat, pat, pat. Sniff. Pat, pat, pat. Sniff. Gradually the sniffing time increased and I was able to sneak a couple of chin rubs in with one finger. We played for about 10 minutes before he got bored and went to look out the window. Buttons is braver too - if she's on the bed when I go into the bedroom, I can sit down a foot away from her and she won't move, as long as I don't look directly at her. I've been getting in some occasional stroking with her. I have to be sneaky though, like I don't really mean to touch her but just missed the cat next to her - I pet the cat laying next to her, sneak in a stroke or two, then go back to petting the cat next to her.

Snickers is so funny. When he wants pets, he jumps up next to the food bowl and looks at me with a quizzical look on his face. When he's sitting there, I can walk right up and pet him, then pick him up and cuddle him. He won't let me approach him anywhere else. Sometimes, though, if I've got Domingo or Pookah on my lap, he'll come up and snuggle in next to them and let me pet him too. He's getting bigger, and he's one of the most handsome cats I've ever seen. He has a really plush coat, thick and silky. Sometimes that light cream color is a shocker, amid all the black, tortie, and tuxedo kitties. I caught him playing with Penny the other day at bedtime - he was under the bed and she was lying on the floor. I watched as one cream colored paw snuck out and patted her on the nose several times, then withdrew. Then again. She's such a good girl, didn't do anything other than wrinkle her nose each time.

Purrnie is finally growing up. He's not a holy terror anymore, he's just a cute little pain in the butt. He's big - maybe 11 pounds - and he's just about a year old. I'm betting 13 pounds before he stops growing. Sleek and sassy, he's a lover. Any time I sit down he's in my lap, relaxed and purring, before I even get settled in. My sweet, sweet boy. Pookah is a petite, lightweight little girl. So sweet, such a love-baby. Stubborn as all get-out. How can such a sweet little girl be such a determined little stinker at times? While I've been typing this, I've removed her from the keyboard at least a dozen times. As soon as I put her on the floor she jumps back up.

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