Much cheaper than purchasing treats from the store, and much healthier for the doggie.
2 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon
garlic powder
1 teaspoon beef bouillon granules
1/2 cup bacon or
other meat grease
1 egg
1/2 cup cold water
Preheat oven to
350 degrees In a medium bowl, stir together dry ingredients. Add
bacon grease, egg and water. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough
out to 1/2 inch thickness and cut with cookie cutters. Place biscuits
onto an ungreased baking sheet. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes until firm.
Pumpkin Dog Biscuits 2 eggs 1/2 cup canned pumpkin 2 tablespoons dry milk
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 1/2 cups brown rice flour *
1 teaspoon dried parsley (optional)
Preheat oven to 350.
In large bowl, whisk together eggs and pumpkin to smooth. Stir in dry
milk, sea salt, and dried parsley (if using, optional). Add brown rice
flour gradually, combining with spatula or hands to form a stiff, dry
dough. Turn out onto lightly floured surface (can use the brown rice
flour) and if dough is still rough, briefly knead and press to combine.
Roll dough between 1/4 – 1/2″ – depending on your dog’s chew
preferences, – and use biscuit or other shape cutter to punch shapes,
gathering and re-rolling scraps as you go. Place shapes on cookie sheet,
no greasing or paper necessary. If desired, press fork pattern on
biscuits before baking, a quick up-and-down movement with fork, lightly
pressing down halfway through dough. Bake 20 minutes. Remove from oven
and carefully turn biscuits over, then bake additional 20 minutes. Allow
to cool completely on rack before feeding to dog.
* Brown rice
flour gives the biscuits crunch and promotes better dog digestion.
Makes up to 75 small (1″) biscuits or 50 medium biscuits
Right here, scratch right here.....look away from the laptop and scratch here!
Who is this newest little critter? Well after our great Clementine was lost, the kids wanted to go to the Humane Society and look at dogs. I took them one afternoon so the hubbie could get some work done.
We found Charlie, but with some serious reservations. She was classified as a very timid dog, and easily frightened. When she was brought into the visiting room with myself and the kids, her tail was invisible under her belly. The volunteer who helped us was great. I was allowed to walk Charlie in laps, the kids were allowed to walk her, and we also walked outside. The entire time, you could see Charlie relax, not be startled by the kids, and in general, mellow out. We liked her, a lot. We put down the necessary paperwork on her, my hubbie came to see her, all is well. We were coming back the next day to get her.
Until I met the dog behaviorist at the Humane Society who pointed out two things about Charlie from her intake. She is possessive of food and toys to other dogs and hasn't been around kids. However, the house she just left, Charlie was the victim of the other household dog that was instigating some pretty violent fights. So of course, she was food and toy aggressive with this other dog. So they were discouraging me from getting her. She discounted the entire afternoon we spent with her the day before, and tried to sell me on a huge, goofy lab mix. Umm....no. She came as close as she could to saying "no" to the adoption as she could. I stood my ground, I see a great dog in her and our kids are not dog stupid.
I brought her home on the huge lookout for aggressiveness over food and toys. Not even an issue! Nothing about food or toys was an issue.
What caught us off guard that no one could see coming? My husband. When he first approached her, she growled. The next morning, she growled and lunged at my husband. Not good! She had taken possession of me, and was quickly becoming hyper protective of me. He was quite mad at the whole situation and I made the call to the behaviorist again asking for advice. I also felt good to be able to say all the concerns she has were unfounded. I also asked what would happen to take her back if this didn't improve and we steeled ourselves for that possibility.
New plan, based on her advice and my love for the show "The Dog Whisperer". Charlie had bonded with the kids and me, but not my hubbie. So I had my oldest son walk her that same day, a lot. Like every hour or so around the block, and each time she strained the leash to come back to me. Nope! You keep on going! She was relaxed about it by the late afternoon.
Here was the plan that worked. My husband called me right before he would drive up. I sent the son off to yet another spin around the block and armed my husband with a baggie full of cheese chunks. So my husband met my son and Charlie with treats, gave her a treat, grabbed the leash and walked her. No growling. It was right out of "The Dog Whisperer". My son did a great job of helping me to disengage her from me in terms of protectiveness. All yummy treats and toys come from others in the family besides me now.
Every day she gets more relaxed, more playful and more calm. New people and new situations get her timid, but as we show her that she is safe with us, she calms down. We take her on car rides a lot just to get her used to going into new scenarios all the time.
Also, we had a babysitter yesterday afternoon. Babysitter, kids and Charlie all went to the park together and all had a great time.
She is kinda fun. We so miss Clementine. She is ever present with us and it's hard not to compare the two very different dogs. Charlie is the beginning of another era of dog ownership for us, and so far it's been quite enjoyable.
It has been yet another whirlwind week for our family. It hasn't been easy at all.
On Easter Day, six days ago, we noticed a slight limp on our dog. She is an older dog, and so I thought to myself, "She is showing her age. We should probably start looking at arthritis meds." I took her to the vet Monday afternoon and left her there so they could anesthetize her and take comprehensive xrays of her hips. My husband picked her up later and got the diagnosis that truly none of us expected. She has bone cancer in her hips and it's a progressive kind. I had him bring her home so the kids could have some time with her.
And it's been a hard week of saying goodbyes. Enjoying her. Crying. The kids have definitely grieved in their own way, and always at what seems like strange times to me. But I understand that deep down inside grieving is incredibly personal and intimate.
So last night, as a family we took our final heart-wrenching trip to the vet. Incredibly, she has responded to pain meds all week and of course was bubbly and jumpy when we got there. I hate it when pets don't seem sick but you know they are--and you have to sign that piece of paper.
So I am working on a photo album of our most wonderful dog. She has been a faithful companion, couch potato, cat toy, protector, and slobberer for five of her eleven years in our home. We are honored to have been able to walk with her in her golden years.
As I took the picture I just posted with her leash and collar I had the most strange thought process. It's all factual, and trust me, I know someone will get offended, but at this point in my process I don't care.
For some odd reason it reminded me of slavery. We have all seen pictures of the leashes, collars and shackles that slaves endured. We have all heard the stories of how slaves were documented and considered property just like pets and livestock. We all know there were good and bad slave owners just like there are good and bad dog owners. Did slave owners grieve when their "livestock" died? Did they grieve like their slaves were people or their slaves were livestock? I try to put myself into the shoes of slave proponents and I can't do it. Maybe it's because of my kids but I don't think so. I can't make myself think of someone as a pet when they can talk, follow orders, work, think, reason, etc. I can't do it.
I still miss my dog tremendously and we will move on. I would be suicidal if one of my kids were to perish.
So my kids get their little sniffly cold at the beginning of March. Because they are young and their immune systems are fresh and free, they recover and bounce back in a day or two.
My husband? He gets the full hacking, lung spewing, nasty cold. Nice huh?
I am next. About a week and a half ago, the tickle in my throat began. Here is my problem. Since I turned 30 (last week....shhhh!) I have had the hardest time keeping a cold from turning into a sinus infection. If I don't keep all forms of Mucinex and Sudafed, all versions, constantly in my blood stream, a simple cold can easily turn into a full blown sinus infection.
I have awful stories of these bouts as well. There was a Christmas when the kids were small. When we got home from the festivities, I went to an emergency care place. The doctor told me I was within hours of being admitted to the hospital. Merry Christmas!
Then there is my favorite. The month before we adopted our youngest. Here is the problem, I am doing my gamut of meds, and from hour to hour, I feel good. Then suddenly I feel bad. Then I have a few good hours, then I feel horrible. Days go by before my common sense kicks in and says "Self, you're not getting better. Get help you dork!" Anyway, one month before adopting said child, I was doing that better/worse ride. One night as I was trying to sleep, it suddenly felt like an ice pick was being driven into my ear. The internal brain burning was nothing like I have ever experienced, and it scared me. Yes, doctor visit the next day. I let that one go so long I ruptured an ear drum and couldn't hear out of my right ear for 6 weeks.
I have grown a brain since then. When I can't get the sinus junk out of my brain, I pay the co-pay and just get the antibiotic. I don't wait. And of course, last week, Wednesday and Thursday, not getting better. Off I go. I have my meds and I can stand up without throwing off my equilibrium and making my nose drip disgusting things.
So the kids, the husband and me. That's all right? Oh no. Remember, we have critters. Our poor dog! She has a cool new health plan (Obama should have taken a look at this before boosting our entire health care system.....but I digress) where she gets some nice maintenance kind of care, not just shots, for a few dollars a month. It's time to get her teeth cleaned. That requires her to be put under anesthetic. However, in our last visit, it was noticed she had a few benign growths. One behind her ear and another on her chest. They don't mean much, but those sorts of growths turn to cancer in older dogs. So why not? She's going under anesthetic, let's have those removed.
So she has her meds now too. She has an anti-inflammatory, antibiotic, and a pain pill. I have an antibiotic. The husband isn't on anything, but I also can't find any more Mucinex right now.
We're just a bundle of energized health right now. I feel better, but sound like Demi Moore on steroids. The dog is doing well although she has to wear a tshirt so she leaves her stitches alone. The husband still hacks up things.
I have heard this plastic thing referred to as a mouse......need clarification please!
See the doorknob on the left?? Yes, he is way up the door. Glad it's a steel security door!
Bugs!! Where? Must catch them!!
Remember back in August?? I did my whole little rant about the kitten I had acquired that caused us nothing but grief because he was feral and bit me? It's a fun reminder if you want to click here and reminisce.
What is the stinker doing now? How is he doing now? Since August he has become a domesticated kitten.
Strides he has made: * He hasn't been caged since about a week after that post I referenced dated August 8th.
* He has become friends with our other cat, Tasha. At first we had to defend her to keep him from tormenting her with his constant need to tackle and play with her. No longer, they both love to wrestle with each other and drive each other crazy. Now, she sits on the edge of the couch, let's him pounce on her, she lowers her head and drops him to the floor. Minimal effort for getting him literally off her back.
*Once I knew I could handle him fairly well, we made a trip to the vet at the end of August. Tried a new vet that has a type of insurance/payment plan. I was so afraid he still had a bit of wild in him and would take a bite at one of the vet's or assistants. I warned them he was a recovering feral cat. He did fine! He let everyone handle him, got blood drawn, was weighed, Q tips down the ears, and the cursory thermometer up the sphincter. Not one protest, no aggression, nothing. I can't say he was purring and calm. He was definitely on alert, but trusted all of us who were handling him and let us do it with no aggression. I was so happy when we were done. I definitely knew after that visit, if he could handle that, we were on the right path.
*Tyrone is still very much kitten. Most days are spent zooming around the house in pursuit of anything that flicks easily, flies in the air, has a bell in it, or is furry and little. He is slowly maturing and we are seeing the mature cat come out in him where he lounges and lounges.....for long periods of time.......and even drools if he goes into that lounging, purr fest mode slightly between sleeping and consciousness.
*Tyrone gets the big fix next weekend. Yes, his genetic blood line will stop with him. And he desire to use my legs to climb up on things with his claws will be stopped as well. I am sure Tasha will appreciate that more than any of us.
Have you ever tried to do something nice for someone and it backfires in all kinds of ways? Not that I don't ever want to stop doing nice things for people, but when something like this happens, you find yourself hesitating the next time something like this comes up. You may even put in place a little personal policy in your head to prevent the same outcomes from happening again. All of my Facebook buddies know all about this, and it's been fun reading everyone's comments. I thought I should post more of the detailed story side over here. I purposely do not put detailed personal stuff on Facebook. Facebook will own it forever, and they just don't need to. Here is my last ten days, ready?
Tue. 7/28: Talking to a friend on the phone. She exclaims that suddenly a little kitten comes scampering into her home. Both are quite startled. The summary of that call, if she can't find the owner, I know a friend who runs a cat rescue and could take the kitten there if needed. That was the nice thing I offered that started this whole turn of events.
Wed. 7/29: Friend calls and asks if I can come and take kitten to the rescue. She warns me he is a little frightened and maybe a bit wild. I should have listened. Friend has to work but assures me her young roommate will open the door and help me. Turns out the roommate is terrified of cats. However, roommate moves a piece of furniture and little bundle of fuzz comes out and I grab him. He in turn wiggles around and drives his needle sharp teeth into my left index finger. I take my other hand and scruff him, take my bloody hand and hold the back of his body so his hind legs don't shred my arm. What in the world? This thing is as big as one of my hands. I have never in my life seen such a small kitten act so incredibly wild.
The roommate brings me my cat carrier and I toss him in. I also borrow her sink and soak my bloody left hand. I take him home and leave him in the carrier, in our basement and collect my thoughts.
I call my doctor's office asking how seriously I should take this bite. The secretary asks me "Can you come in right now?" Seriously? Yes, seriously.
After much phone calling, turns out the little turkey is feral. No one takes feral cats, except our local animal control, who will put him down. I call the feral cat people, and they will fix him and vaccinate him, then turn him loose. Well, okay. Hands down, everyone I spoke to said it was such a shame for that to be his lot in life since he is so young, and could be rehabilitated if someone just gave him the time.
Hubbie comes home after I call him telling how my being helpful has just turned into a nightmare. I have a cat bite from a cat that no one, even us, wants. The hubbie was very clear, "He is your project." No one in our house wanted anything to do with the kitten we had named Spawn of Satan at that point. Why? Well, if you approached the cat carrier from about 3 to 5 feet, he hissed and scrambled. He was scary to be around.
Thu. 7/30: I go to get a round of antibiotics and an updated tetanus shot.
I looked all over for help. I posted to craigslist that this guy needed a home or he was going to animal control. I got a great offer from a gal who would take him as a barn cat on her property if I could get him fixed.
Now we're getting somewhere. I call the feral cat people and they can fix him and will allow me to free him as a barn cat. Again, so sad because such a young kitten could be tamed.
In the meantime, he is on full cat carrier arrest. I am scared to death to open the carrier, put food in, take the little cat litter box out, etc. However, I do it. Spawn seems to be chilling out and doesn't once lunge at me. He hisses, but even that starts to dissipate.
Spawn of Satan in the first 24 hours.
Sun. 8/2: The worst happens. The little stinker got loose in our basement. Fears? Lots. What if he attacks one of the kids or one of our other animals? If your basement is anything like mine, it is cluttered from floor to ceiling. How am I going to catch this guy? I close off the basement to everyone and go to bed hoping that nothing else worse happens.
Mon. 8/3: Sitting in my office, in the basement, I can hear him moving around me. Ever seen Cujo? Yeah, kind of afraid this is the cat version of that about to take place. Is he going to take a flying leap at me and gouge my eyes out?
Suddenly I see this little paw behind a box playing with a cord to a purse as a toy. He's playing?? He hasn't done that once since his capture. Interesting. I might have a lure here.
My plan, don't feed him. When he is good and hungry I will put the most luscious food in the carrier and string up a line to pull the door shut to capture him. It worked, but didn't. The little guy actually lunged against the door and pushed it open after I pulled it shut.
That evening, after the kids were in bed. I was sitting at my computer, and he came up to a shelving unit looking down at me. Not hissy and mean, but let's remember Cujo. He hesitatingly tries to approach me. I put my leather glove on. He finally falls off the computer console onto my inbox, and I grab him. Howling, yowling, biting, scratching, etc. I have him by the tail, and I rush to put him in the cat carrier, where he, again, throws his little body against the door to escape. Smart!
I came away from that exchange very sad. I saw the soft side of him and I took that little bit of trust away by manhandling him like I did. So sad.
Tue. 8/4: We allow Spawn to be free in our bathroom so that he does get out a bit. I have figured out a way to corral him back into the carrier without a leather glove. We figure this is a good thing. The huge rule to all household members--you must close the bathroom door. If you go in with him, he hides. He won't go after anyone, so you're fine, but you must leave the door closed.
As we are getting ready to leave for our summer day camp I walk past the boy's bedroom and see a glimpse of a tail going under a dresser. Yep, the boy's left the bathroom door open. Now, we have to do the capture thing again. I am upset.
The day wears on and I realize the little squirt has gotten himself into the top drawer of a dresser. If I open it a bit, he sees me, and comes up to me sniffing. No hissing. The hubbie comes home and gets the leather gloves. No luck, Spawn escapes to the dark recesses of the bottom side of the bunk bed. However after I leave for work, the hubbie does the whole grabbing, howling, yowling, scratching, biting capture that is upsetting.
And what are we waiting for in all of this? For the little guy to get a smidge bigger so we can get him fixed and outta here!
8/4-8/7: The change emerges. The routine becomes this. Spawn stays in the carrier at night. During the day, he gets the bathroom. I am the bathroom monitor to prevent any open doors.
I also purchase a cat toy with a bell on it. Spawn is frightened of it at first. After a few hours, you can hear the tinkling of the bell in the bathroom. He begins playing with it.
He also stops the hissing as we approach the cage. Spawn is still quite jumpy and distrustful. Won't let you pet him. But the violent fear is gone. He is getting to know us. As we see small signs of him becoming more tame, the hubbie says to me, "Hmmm.....maybe we should tame him? What do you think?" Wow! Okay, let's try it. However, I reserve the right to back out at anytime. I also still keep looking for an owner, it could be us, but not going to determine that yet. I am still back at "maybe we should tame him?"
Fri. 8/7: I have given Tyrone (no longer Spawn of Satan) the same wicker basket that Pablo and Tasha had when they first arrived. I have also put a cushion in it with some catnip on it. Interesting effect with that. Usually we would walk into the bathroom, and you would see his tail disappear under the cabinet. With this basket and catnip, he would stay in the basket as you came and left. Interesting, he is getting used to us. He also likes catnip.
Tyrone you ask? Yes, well, it's hard to sell the idea of a kitten to someone if Spawn of Satan is their name. The kids, in keeping with the tradition of naming our pets after Backyardigans characters decide on Tyrone. We are running out of Backyardigans characters, so maybe we'll stop taking in pets like the local pound!
Tyrone under the bathroom cabinet.
Tyrone enjoying the basket that has catnip.
Late late this night I go into the bathroom and turn the light on. Tyrone looks up at me blinking at the light, purring. At this point, he has been purring at us for a few days, usually in association with food. I reach down and the following video came from that exchange:
I am utterly amazed at what ten days has done to this feral kitten. You can totally see he isn't all lap cat and snuggles. He is quite tentative and cautious. But what a change in ten days! I went to bed with tears in my eyes. I think this little guy won't get the gas chamber or the barn! I think we might have a success story on our hands.
This week, which began today, is to put up an old baby gate that we have to the bathroom. We want all the animals to see and sniff each other without injury. Hoping we don't have any huge skirmishes with this endeavor. We are also hoping that Tyrone having a view of us coming and going will continue to help him see and trust humans. We definitely want to keep building on that success.
Next week, my hubbie and kids will be gone. I'll have the house to myself and the pets. The plan is to let Tyrone have our office space (not basement) to explore. I can sit and do work in it from the laptop. I am hoping we can just keep this success growing. My hope is to have him trusting enough to sit on a lap purring by the end of that week.
I'll keep you posted.
Think of this story when you offer to do a favor next time. You could end up on a course of antibiotics, a band-aid on your arm, and a feral cat that steals your family's heart. Good grief!
It's hard to imagine, but this little guy is gone. We are all upset and miss him terribly. In the last 24 hours, he has refused to eat, lost a huge amount of weight, and hasn't moved much. He was wasting away. He also had an "episode" last night that I will spare you the details on. It was time, and he went to the vet for the last time this morning. It's hard to imagine that such a furry little critter could have such an effect on our lives but he did.
Pablo got to come home late this afternoon. We have not gotten the test results back but we were told we could bring him home. He has been given good fluids and has had a lot of R and R. Here is BH showing Pablo a toy and Tasha checking out the other end. So much for rest!
You can barely see Pablo's orange bandage from the IV. BH doesn't care, he must show Pablo the toy! Pablo and BH are serious buddies. If all four of us are sleeping in a room (won't happen but let's pretend) and Pablo has to choose who to crash with, it will always be BH. They are buddies and it will be especially hard on BH if we have to say goodbye to Pablo. So while we are happy to be able to have him home we are very very concerned and sad at what might be approaching.
And on a happier note, school is done today! After talking about what serious decisions we may have to make regarding Pablo we celebrated a good school year. For a cake mix leftover from Easter that required three eggs and bundt pan, not too bad! We banged out a lot of Spanish today plus the final Spanish exam. It was a lot to do but JM was motivated to have it done before next week.
Suddenly in the last 24-36 hours, our new kitten Pablo starts looking not so good. I suddenly notice yesterday, he is skinny. You can feel every bone down his spine and his back hip bones are sticking out. His fur is not soft and silky. He also isn't moving fast anywhere. In fact, if he does move, he moves from one sleeping spot to another. Something is wrong.
And it is. I rushed him first thing this morning to the vet where he is now. He is getting hydrated with fluids while the vet has run blood work.
It isn't good at all. Simple infection? I wish, and I had pictured that in my head. We need one final confirmation on his blood work but all indicators at this point is that he has feline FIPV. Click here if you want to know the details.
The people who found Pablo and Tasha, were incredibly gracious. They worked hard to save these little kitties lives. They found the kitties in a car that was being towed away to be demolished, and they would have certainly died. At about seven weeks old, they suffered through a bought of feline distemper, which usually spells certain death, but they survived. I was told a third kitten died during that time from the distemper. They are little survivors!
Here is a slide show of pictures this wonderful couple gave us of their early, itty bitty days, which was only last October! You can see these people took really good care of these two. I think in one picture, you can see a gaggle of kittens. I think there is three there, which might be the one who died.
Anyway, get ready for cuteness!
P.S. Pablo has straight symmetry on his nose with his white stripe. Tasha does not. Her stripe is not perfectly symmetrical. Honestly that is the only way to tell them apart.
Coming to our home Friday afternoon. Cuteness covered in fur.
UPDATE: It was discovered upon having said cute things home for a few hours, it because really easy to call Jack my oldest son's name and vice versa, we are now going with Pablo. This is an homage to Pablo and Tasha from one of our favorite shows, and I am sure yours too, Backyardigans.
We made the decision today. It was time. Tabitha's bladder issues have worsened over the last month. Badly. Our basement basically had become her cat box because of her renal failure. Her pleading meowing told us she was in pain, no matter what we did to help her.
So farewell sweet kitty. As a human, God has given us a huge responsibility to "watch over the animals" and make sure they are cared for. I hope we did that for you. I hope the decision we made today honored God's decree. We are glad you are no longer in pain.
Thank you for being a great companion, leg warmer, cuddle bug, and source of entertainment. You are so missed.
This morning, I went to let the chickens out of their roost, and found our beloved Lizzie curled up and passed away. She looked like she honestly died in her sleep.
And what a shock! That was the last thing I expected to find this morning. She has been doing so well since our big raccoon attack in November, getting along great with our new chickens, acting very happy. I am glad she died peacefully and not at the hands of a predator. I am glad she died having new chicken friends and not enemies.
I am sure that something internal happened, because I have kept a close eye on her old wounds since November. I am sure some kind of infection or internal injury caught up to her. We wouldn't have been able to do anything about that kind of thing.
In the whole scheme of the food chain, I realize that chickens are at the level of feeder fish. They are very disposable. But in our little slice of the world, they are our pets and friends. So the kids are having a hard time this morning. I am having a hard time this morning. Lizzie was a sweet chicken. She would sit on your lap and let you pet her. She cooed when you pet her, and she endured a lot.
We had a light dusting of snow on Saturday night. My hubbie seems to think these might be kitty tracks. Kitties have padded paws. Raccoons have claws and fingers.....I think it's a raccoon. These ain't no kitty prints. No, the critter did not penetrate my fortress chicken coop. Knock on wood!
We are a poor bunch these days! Yes, our cat has a bladder infection, which has been treated. Come to find out, it's a symptom of the bigger problem, and that is renal failure. Her kidneys are shutting down slowly, and it's a very typical way for cats to die. It's terminal.
So what do we do? She is in the early stages, and we're hoping some new meds we have will 1) Keep her comfortable. 2) Stop the incontinence. Big time! 3) Buy her a little time.
And we have such a history with this little lady. We got her the summer of 1992, right after losing one of my most favorite cats in my whole life died very tragically. Tabitha was a little spitfire of fresh air. Little Miss Destruction Furball. Yet, very sweet and cuddly and loving.
Now, in the last 4+ years, she has definitely become "old" in that she doesn't play much, and sleeps a lot. She gets a little cranky with the kids if they pet her too much or overwhelm her. She doesn't bite but definitely gives a warning hiss. When she started doing that, we knew she was getting old.
Then the incontinence started a few weeks ago, and how gross it has been. And things that can't be peed on have been. Like my banker's boxes of business papers for my business. That will be fun to explain to the cpa. But we took her to the vet, and was told bladder infection, come back in 10 days for a follow up.
During that 10 days on antibiotics, we saw some improvement, but not a cure. Still some incontinence. And other things were becoming apparent. It all has to do with bowel and urinary things, so I'll save you the details. I told the vet this a few days ago when I took her for the follow up. And the vet said what I had suspected, renal failure had set in. She is 16 after all!
I have to back up here. We had a cat die about 8 years ago from the late stages of renal failure, and it was awful. Her symptoms didn't show up until the really terminal stage. But the vet will try to do everything to save her....and we weren't wise. We spent $1000 trying to treat it, only to send her to the Kitty Bridge.
Hubbie and I have conferred--we won't do that this time. If we can keep her comfortable, happy, and in good spirits, we will if it's affordable. But I won't prolong the inevitable, or the suffering. She has had a great 16 years, and we want to make sure her final moments are just as great.
The picture shown above was taken yesterday. She is pretty much doing what she usually does, lounge around and sleep. And we are hoping the meds start to work that she is on, and that we can have a wonderful last few moments with her, however long that may be.
It's been one of those weeks where there could be a whole lot of nothing to say. Not much in terms of interesting things, but a whole lot of stuff.
Here goes:
* Trying to incorporate Lizzie back outside, and the other chickens are attacking her. Normally, I would let her duke it out, but she won't fight back and she is still slightly injured. Not sure what to do. I think she actually likes being inside, but being in a cardboard box 24/7 is no existence for a chicken, or my family.
* Had my huge annual candle sale yesterday. I didn't put as much effort into as I usually do, but I still sold close to $1,000 in products that were stored in my basement. So I cleaned out some stock, some friends got some great deals, created some future business, and now I can hibernate for Thanksgiving.
* School is going well for JM. He aced a math test yesterday, and I am so proud of him!
* School is going okay for BH. He is doing great, loves his teacher, loves his classmates, and tells me all the fun preschool things he does. The church that runs the school just pulled one of those typical church politics stunts (three influential people had a back room meeting while the school director was gone on vacation, and had her fired) that just chaps my hide. So we parents are dealing with that, and hoping the church realizes, no matter if she was worthy of being fired, that their way of doing it was completely mean-spirited and ungodly. The former director is planning to sue. It will be pretty I am sure!
* Need to make a spinach salad and a requested broccoli salad for my part of Thanksgiving dinner. Going to the inlaws. Just as a general rule, when I go to my inlaws, please pray for me.
* Went to cash a check at a bank yesterday that I don't bank at. The bank teller couldn't cash it. She needed an approval from the branch manager. Way back in college, I was a bank teller for three years. I know that was long ago, and fraud is a huge problem, I know this. I told this branch manager, "Why do you even have tellers? If she can't cash a check on your bank with sufficient ID and my fingerprint (yes, I had to fingerprint the check for CSI purposes) then why do we have bank tellers?" I got the "we need extra measures if you aren't a bank customer...." bit. That didn't answer my question, seriously, why have bank tellers?
Corollary, I am thankful to have banks. I am thankful to have money that needs to be cashed. I am thankful to have a distraction for my preschooler at the time I waited that thirty minutes for the manager. I am thankful I have these simple inconveniences that others don't have. I am thankful.
* Our beef has been ordered since the beginning of November. We have conversed with the butcher. On December 13th, our freezer will be full. I am so excited, and yes, very thankful.
I wish all of you a wonderful, safe, thoughtful and special Thanksgiving. We have much to be thankful for. We have roofs over our heads, we have warm beds, we have people in our lives that make us who we are, we have opportunities, we have a warm meal on Thursday, and we have Jesus Christ. We have so much!
Here is my bulleted life in the last twenty four hours:
* Have you ever wondered what a moulting chicken looks like? What is moulting? Once a year or so chickens go through a time when they lose all their feathers, and look like a nasty disease got ahold of them. All the books tell me this happens in summer. In the six years I have kept chickens, it always happens when it's cold, like in the 30's at night here in the last week or so.
Here is my Miss Maisy. She looks awful! My backyard looks like a down pillow blew up in it. The white spikes you see on her bare patches are actually the new feathers coming in. I can't wait!
* The hubbie is home. And the hubbie is cranky. That's what you get when you've been traveling for 36 hours straight.
* Watched "Derailed" last night. It's one I've wanted to watch for awhile. It stars Clive Owen (a handsome Brit right in the same category as Colin Firth) and Jennifer Aniston. It's dark. It isn't one of Jennifer Aniston's little happy go lucky comedies. I heard reviews that it was slow. Not so! It's an intellectual thriller. You must watch every detail from the very very beginning, and I mean the opening credits. It has a huge twist at the end, and I figured it out before it happened, and I usually don't do that. But it is good, but it's not action. It might seem slow, but if you turn your brain on, it's good.
* I have a new recipe in the crockpot right now. It smells divine, so feel free to try it out, click here. I like hearty soups in the chilly fall. I also like cheap and nutritious ingredients. You can't go wrong with lentils. I think I spent a total of $5.00 to make this huge crock of soup.
* What is my break today? The hubbie is very motivated right now to get the kids in bed on time tonight. Why? He is dead tired himself. What am I doing? The youth group at my church is going to the Haunted Corn Maze. If I took my kids, they wouldn't sleep for a week, and I have always wanted to see it. But the truth of the matter is, my pastor's wife is obligated to go because she is the adult leader. She is a chicken and is scared to go. I told her I would come and hold her hand. That is my story on that one, and I am sticking to it.
I know, because I am going to a Halloween function, I am sure somewhere out there someone might think I am not a Christian anymore. Trust me, I have done a lot worse things in my life that have made me wonder if I actually did lose my salvation. This isn't in that sphere of severity at all. Have I ever blogged about the time we euthanized one of our chickens on the weekend of Halloween? That was creepier by far than this, trust me. Hmm....future post in the works right now.
* Hubbie home tomorrow. For once, he is not going to the office on a holiday. We might get something done around the house. Praise God for a babysitter this week who washed the mountain of dishes in my kitchen sink. That was a gift to me, and she may not realize it.
Our newest pet, Charlette or Charlie.
Thanks for the squeaky toy!
Right here, scratch right here.....look away from the laptop and scratch here!
No, Tyrone is not helping....he is supervising.
Ditto.
I just think this is a great pic of my kids.
Tasha doesn't supervise. She just finds the most comfy spot.
Check out the look on Tasha's face.
Hmmm......yes?
I have heard this plastic thing referred to as a mouse......need clarification please!
See the doorknob on the left?? Yes, he is way up the door. Glad it's a steel security door!
Bugs!! Where? Must catch them!!
Spawn of Satan in the first 24 hours.
The routine becomes this. Spawn stays in the carrier at night. During the day, he gets the bathroom. I am the bathroom monitor to prevent any open doors.
Tyrone under the bathroom cabinet.
Tyrone enjoying the basket that has catnip.
Pablo got to come home late this afternoon. We have not gotten the test results back but we were told we could bring him home. He has been given good fluids and has had a lot of R and R. Here is BH showing Pablo a toy and Tasha checking out the other end. So much for rest!
You can barely see Pablo's orange bandage from the IV. BH doesn't care, he must show Pablo the toy! Pablo and BH are serious buddies. If all four of us are sleeping in a room (won't happen but let's pretend) and Pablo has to choose who to crash with, it will always be BH. They are buddies and it will be especially hard on BH if we have to say goodbye to Pablo. So while we are happy to be able to have him home we are very very concerned and sad at what might be approaching.
Jack UPDATE: He is now Pablo
Tasha
Jack er...Pablo and Tasha.
We made the decision today. It was time. Tabitha's bladder issues have worsened over the last month. Badly. Our basement basically had become her cat box because of her renal failure. Her pleading meowing told us she was in pain, no matter what we did to help her.
We are a poor bunch these days! Yes, our cat has a bladder infection, which has been treated. Come to find out, it's a symptom of the bigger problem, and that is renal failure. Her kidneys are shutting down slowly, and it's a very typical way for cats to die. It's terminal.
* Have you ever wondered what a moulting chicken looks like? What is moulting? Once a year or so chickens go through a time when they lose all their feathers, and look like a nasty disease got ahold of them. All the books tell me this happens in summer. In the six years I have kept chickens, it always happens when it's cold, like in the 30's at night here in the last week or so.
