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Post by Mini Mia on Feb 25, 2012 19:22:01 GMT -6
Here's Blackie in August of '82.
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Post by Siren on Mar 23, 2012 20:27:58 GMT -6
This kitty begs in such a sweet way. If he was mine, he'd be fatter than he already is!
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Post by stepper on Mar 24, 2012 10:38:30 GMT -6
You're right - he (or she) is a cutie!
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Post by stepper on Mar 24, 2012 11:18:26 GMT -6
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Post by quettalee on Mar 25, 2012 21:36:56 GMT -6
Look at all the babies!!! Beautiful, Jox! And Stepper, that's quite a family!! MEEEEEOOOOOOWWWWW!!!
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Post by Siren on Mar 29, 2012 7:06:22 GMT -6
Lol! The question is, Step, where do YOU sleep?
So pretty. Thanks for sharing!
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Post by Phalon on Mar 30, 2012 4:51:13 GMT -6
I was thinking the same thing, Siren. Cats, even if there's just one of them, have an amazing ability to hog an entire bed!
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Post by stepper on Mar 31, 2012 13:33:45 GMT -6
Alas, they are all at the Rainbow Bridge. But when they were here, they mostly snuggled up next to Steppet - except Precious - she liked getting on my chest. She and Wonder took turns keeping me entertained that way but he weighed more - wasn't as comfortable with him there. Wonder played harder and thought toes under the sheets were targets; Precious purred more. Surprisingly enough, it seemed there was always room for all of us one way or another, the other way being that you had to share your pillow.
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Post by Spock on Apr 1, 2012 13:43:22 GMT -6
I'm changing the images here to links. They stretch the forum something awful! I have now reduced the size of the displayed images. Please let me know if they need be reduced further. We used to have a rescue cat we called Priscilla. Full-sized imageTowards the end of Priscilla's life, we thought we would get another pet as our other cat, a Black Main Coon called Smokey, had died the year earlier. Full-sized imageWe decided to get an older, smallish dog from the local ASPCA called Lady. For some reason the two didn't get along all that well. Lady seemed to be starving all the time, even going so far as to steal the cat's food, so we put the cat's food at the end of a long hallway just outside a door leading to the room where the cat had taken up residence, presumably to escape from the dog. I was standing at one end of the hallway one day reading the Sunday funnies when I realized Lady was at it again, eating from the cat's dish. I rolled up the funnies and went over and hit Lady on the end of the nose with the paper, loudly saying, "NO!" when I did it. Lady yelped, ran down the hallway, into the dining room, and 'hid' under the table. All of a sudden, Lady yelped again and ran into the living room. The cat had run in and added her swipe to Lady's nose with her claws. She was obviously annoyed that the dog was eating her food and wanted to take advantage of the 'confusion' to make her feelings known! For some reason, after that, the cat had no further problems with the dog. In fact, after Priscilla died of extreme old age and infirmity ( we had to have her put to sleep ) Lady looked lost for some time. She seems to have settled down now but we have been wondering if we should perhaps get her her 'own' kitten as she is also getting a bit long-in-the-tooth. Nah! Lady, now a pudgy 20 pound chihuahua-terrier mix, attacks the local Saint Bernard when they see each other while out walking. Perhaps we should get a young mountain lion to ensure it will be able to hold its own ... Edited: To resize first image. ~ Mini-Mia / Joxcenia
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Post by Mini Mia on Apr 2, 2012 16:23:34 GMT -6
Nice pictures. You can shrink the images by adding the width and height to the image tag. Such as:
[img width=550 height=448]Image_Link[/img]
I did that with a couple of images you added recently. I linked the image to the larger one as well.
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Post by Spock on Apr 2, 2012 17:15:03 GMT -6
... I did that with a couple of images you added recently. ... Thank you. Now that I know the procedure in here, I should be able to do the same. I am going to go back to my post above and make the changes now. What is the largest "comfortable" size for an image? The original first image above was simply HUGE at 3456 x 2304. I divided everything by 4 but it still seems a bit large.
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Post by Mini Mia on Apr 2, 2012 19:25:59 GMT -6
I try to keep the images between 550px and 600-650px. Not too much over 600px if I can help it. I resized your first image.
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Post by Spock on Apr 2, 2012 19:33:41 GMT -6
... I resized your first image. Thanks. I will try to remember those values.
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Post by stepper on Apr 2, 2012 21:05:52 GMT -6
Your Priscilla looks quite a bit like my Bobbins.
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Post by quettalee on Apr 26, 2012 18:08:58 GMT -6
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jun 26, 2013 22:01:13 GMT -6
I opened this thread a million years ago and called it my therapy thread when I worked for the local non-profit. I have since moved on to the local government "pound". Though I should say we HATE that description. I find that lately I'm needing this thread again so here I am. I'm going to re-post something I read a bit ago. Don't know if it's true that it was written by a shelter manager but it definitely speaks to my daily work life.
WORDS FROM A SHELTER MANAGER "I am posting this (and it is long) because I think our society needs a huge wake-up call.
As a shelter manager, I am going to share a little insight with you all - a view from the inside, if you will. Maybe if you saw the life drain from a few sad, lost, confused eyes, you would change your mind about breeding and selling to people you don’t even know - that puppy you just sold will most likely end up in my shelter when it’s not a cute little puppy anymore. How would you feel if you knew that there’s about a 90% chance that dog will never walk out of the shelter it is going to be dumped at - purebred or not! About 50% of all of the dogs that are “owner surrenders” or “strays” that come into my shelter are purebred dogs.
The most common excuses I hear are: We are moving and we can’t take our dog (or cat). Really? Where are you moving to that doesn't allow pets? . The dog got bigger than we thought it would. How big did you think a German Shepherd would get? . We don’t have time for her. Really? I work a 10-12 hour day and still have time for my 6 dogs! . She’s tearing up our yard. How about bringing her inside, making her a part of your family? They always tell me, “We just don’t want to have to stress about finding a place for her. We know she’ll get adopted - she’s a good dog”.
Odds are your pet won’t get adopted, and how stressful do you think being in a shelter is? Your pet has 72 hours to find a new family from the moment you drop it off, sometimes a little longer if the shelter isn't full and your dog manages to stay completely healthy. If it sniffles, it dies. Your pet will be confined to a small run / kennel in a room with about 25 other barking or crying animals. It will have to relieve itself where it eats and sleeps. It will be depressed and it will cry constantly for the family that abandoned it.
If your pet is lucky, I will have enough volunteers that day to take him / her for a walk. If I don’t, your pet won’t get any attention besides having a bowl of food slid under the kennel door and the waste sprayed out of its pen with a high-powered hose. If your dog is big, black or any of the “bully” breeds (pit bull, rottweiler, mastiff, etc) it was pretty much dead when you walked it through the front door. Those dogs just don’t get adopted. If your dog doesn't get adopted within its 72 hours and the shelter is full, it will be destroyed. If the shelter isn't full and your dog is good enough, and of a desirable enough breed, it may get a stay of execution, though not for long.
Most pets get very kennel protective after about a week and are destroyed for showing aggression. Even the sweetest dogs will turn in this environment. If your pet makes it over all of those hurdles, chances are it will get kennel cough or an upper respiratory infection and will be destroyed because shelters just don’t have the funds to pay for even a $100 treatment.
Here’s a little euthanasia 101 for those of you that have never witnessed a perfectly healthy, scared animal being “put-down”. First, your pet will be taken from its kennel on a leash. They always look like they think they are going for a walk - happy, wagging their tails. That is, until they get to “The Room”, when every one of them freaks out and puts on the breaks when we get to the door. It must smell like death, or they can feel the sad souls that are left in there. It’s strange, but it happens with every one of them.
Your dog or cat will be restrained, as gently as possible (depending on their size and how freaked out they are). A euthanasia tech or a vet will start the process. They find a vein in the front leg and inject a lethal dose of the “blue stuff”. Hopefully your pet doesn't panic from being restrained and jerk it's leg. I've seen the needles tear out of a leg and been covered with the resulting blood, and been deafened by the yelps and screams. They all don’t just “go to sleep” - sometimes they spasm for a while, gasp for air and defecate on themselves.
When it all ends, your pet's corpse will be stacked like firewood in a large freezer in the back, with all of the other animals that were killed, waiting to be picked up like garbage. What happens next? Cremated? Taken to the dump? Rendered into pet food? You’ll never know, and it probably won’t even cross your mind. It was just an animal, and you can always buy another one, right?
I hope that those of you that have read this are bawling your eyes out and can’t get the pictures out of your head. I do everyday on the way home from work. I hate my job, I hate that it exists and I hate that it will always be there unless people make some changes and realize that the lives you are affecting go much farther than the pets you dump at a shelter. Between 9 and 11 MILLION animals die every year in shelters and only you can stop it. I do my best to save every life I can but rescues are always full, and there are more animals coming in everyday than there are homes.
My point to all of this is DON’T BREED OR BUY WHILE SHELTER PETS DIE! Hate me if you want to - the truth hurts and reality is what it is. I just hope I maybe changed one person's mind about breeding their dog, taking their loving pet to a shelter, or buying a dog. I hope that someone will walk into my shelter and say “I saw this thing on craigslist/Facebook/website/spam mail and it made me want to adopt”. That would make it all worth it.
I have friends who work in the shelter who come into this job loving and kind and compassionate. They don't hate they just want to help the animals. Inside of six months almost all of them have lost some little piece of themselves that is able to recognize their limits. Those that have lost that tend toward destructive behavior. Drinking, smoking, drugs. Anything to put a lid on it. Inside a year, those that still have not recognized that they are damaged now are angry and full of hate. Anyone who walks into that shelter is the enemy and must be dealt with in a manner that is commensurate with the days events.
When I worked for the the non-profit I had no ability to identify that damage in myself. I nearly spun out. Thankfully, I got myself fired before I did something truly dumb. The people who loved me recognized the descent and stopped me. Granted firing me was a shock but I needed that to recognize the problem. It didn't take long, outside of the situation, to see where I was.
I am grateful for that period. I needed that. Now, working for a place that is hampered by all the rules and restraints, but run by the same people I worked for before, I have a better ability to stop myself and recognize my limitations. I still hate most people but I know when to keep my mouth shut now.
My point.....even if you don't care about the animals themselves, try and care about the people who clean up after.
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Post by Spock on Jun 26, 2013 23:57:24 GMT -6
We've had Lady (Chihuahua/terrier mix) for about three years. Her owner got too old to take care of her and surrendered her to the local SPCA when she was about 10 or 11. When we adopted her, she had been in jail for about a year (according to the tag on her cage).
She has evidently gone deaf, as she doesn't come running for her food when I give her "food whistle". The Vet says she needs to lose weight, so we have been doing our best to withstand her pleading for food (You can almost hear her saying, "Please sir, may I have some more?")
I know she is healthier at her lower weight but she just seems so miserable that sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't make her happier (albeit for a shorter time) if we allowed her to eat more. It has gotten too much for me recently, so I have "allowed" my wife to take over the feeding of our "pig with fur" while I do my best to ignore her during meals. We usually feed her just as we are going to sit down ourselves but she absorbs her food so fast that she sometimes beats us to the table!
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Post by scamp on Jun 27, 2013 4:53:42 GMT -6
Hi Scrappy Amazon,
I really respect you for having the job you do. God knows, I falter and crack within a couple of hours. And then I'd probably go postal on the dozen or so people (well, until I was stopped) who think animals are disposable. I've had 3 dogs in my life: 1 was from the pound, 1 from a no-kill shelter, and 1 was a wreck of a baby puppy I found on a cold, wet day -- I live just beyond the 'burbs so I can to work but not be subsumed into the lifestyle that accompanies life in a city. Unfortunately, that means I also tend to a gaggle of so-called feral cats and have a half dozen ex-feral cats that decided to move in en masse. All but one of these wonderful animals is spayed or neutered, all have regular shots, flea treatment and all that. Each dog or cat has been a blessing to me.
I know many people who don't want strays or pound dogs because they're afraid of the critters having some type of delayed traumatic stress disorder. Okay, cats are just plain weird sometimes, but they run to us to be petted, they play chase and tag and, other than the fact that I can't entice them into the house, I know they are pretty happy -- at least as happy as any being as complex as a cat can be.
In theory, each of my dogs should have needed therapy because they were clearly not treated well. None had issues once they got through the transition from being caged to having room to run. Personally, I think dogs are like mothers. It hurts like the devil to give birth but mothers seem to repeat the experience gladly. Plus dogs are smart. I'm saying mine were doing field trials or anything, but they were excellent and thoughtful companions.
And that's the part I don't get. My life was enriched by each dog. I simply don't understand how any person can engage with a dog (or a cat) and then just decide, "okay, its time you go away and die." At this stage in my life I think our culture can be measured by how it treats its pets. Boy, does our culture suck. In my mind, your next career should be that of running the country. But if don't want that hassle, I hear that Kate, the woman who runs Emmylou Harris' doggie heaven is retiring. Don't know where you live, but I figure it would be pretty cool to hang with dogs that are loved and will be adopted and get the bonus of having Emmylou hang out with you. You absolutely deserve that experience.
Hey Scrappy Amazon, how do you manage to do this job? I'm serious, it's a daily heartbreaker. I'm truly awed that you can do this. Thank you for doing it.
scamp, who obviously read your post while bawling
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jun 27, 2013 9:27:05 GMT -6
How do I do my job? I don't know. I have a lot of friends who also work in this field who understand what happens on a daily basis. I have several friends who don't work in this field but will absolutely listen when I say I need to vent. Though I will admit to not telling those friends details of certain things.
Ultimately I do it because there are not enough people to do it. And I'll be honest I can still do it without going crazy because I'm not a shelter tech anymore. I still deal with a lot of bad stuff but I don't have to euthanize anymore.
People who work in a shelter or any kind of animal rescue are like social workers. We clean up society's messes. Because it's necessary and nobody else is doing it.
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Post by Phalon on Jun 28, 2013 4:57:22 GMT -6
I think they are also like public school teachers: underpaid to do the very important job of nurturing and caring for the animals.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jun 28, 2013 23:53:53 GMT -6
Thanks!
We just got a raise approved. One percent at the beginning of the fiscal year July first and then 2 percent starting January.
But they are raising the mandatory amount we put into our retirement by two percent.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jun 28, 2013 23:54:42 GMT -6
By the way.....I actually called a guy a tool to his face yesterday. pfft.
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Post by Spock on Jun 29, 2013 21:33:18 GMT -6
I guess this shows why wild animals shouldn't be over fed. Could the same reasoning be applied to our pets as well? If Animals Were Fat
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jun 29, 2013 23:28:36 GMT -6
OMG! Now that's some funny stuff right there.
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Post by Phalon on Jun 30, 2013 7:29:35 GMT -6
Funny stuff, but unfortunately, that is a pretty accurate picture of our cat, Ranger. We used to call him "The Lovable Idiot"; he is now referred to as "The Basketball with a Head".
Or Bob.
I'm not sure why.
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Post by stepper on Jun 30, 2013 11:11:21 GMT -6
Congratulations!
We had an approved raise for the first time in three years, but it was cancelled because our elected officials cannot do their job - things like passing a budget is beyond their skill. The automatic cuts also cut our raise.
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Post by Spock on Jun 30, 2013 15:21:14 GMT -6
... our elected officials cannot do their job ... Sounds like it's time to elect someone else.
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Post by scamp on Jul 2, 2013 0:20:08 GMT -6
Scrappy Amazon, While I'm truly in awe of your job, this stuff about Whoosh Island has me shaking in my boots. Glad you got a raise at least. scamp
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Post by Phalon on Oct 6, 2013 8:55:45 GMT -6
Dusty, the Hell Cat, has died.
Why, we have wondered aloud all weekend.
He did not appear sick or injured; his activity level, appetite, and litter-box usage was normal; he was an indoor cat, who never went outside, and all his vacinations were up-to-date. There was not anything laying around the house out of cabinets that could have poisoned him. He was not that old; his "birthday" was October 2nd, 10 or 11 years since the day we got him when he was six weeks old. A young senior maybe; during his last vet visit in spring, the vet suggested it might be time to switch from "indoor formula" cat food, to "senior" food.
He was a handsome cat - all "dusty-gray" with the tiniest bit of white under his chin. But his eyes....he had the most gorgeous eyes; "Romeo Eyes" we used to call them.
Judging from the stiffness of the body and Friday's events, he appeared to die in his sleep Thursday night. I picked LX up from college after work that day; we got home around 10:30pm. She was greeted by the rest of the family, including all three animals; BP and Hubs went to bed shortly after the "reunion". LX and Dusty played for a while before he settled in on the couch between us while we chatted and watched a little T.V. until we went to bed a little after midnight.
The cats get fed at 5:30am. Dusty did not make an appearance - not usual, but not unusual either. More often then not, both cats hover around my feet while I'm getting their food, but there are occasions that Dusty will be off doing his own thing, and not show up for breakfast, unlike Ranger who gobbles his food as soon as it hits the bowl.
We all had things to do Friday; BP went to school, I went to work, and LX had a bunch of errands, and a photo assignment to shoot for college. Hubs was home due to the government shut-down, but was outside most of the day doing yard-work, and getting the boat ready for winter storage; he was in and out of the house, but it was not unusual not to see the cats because they normally lounge around upstairs during the day, out of dog's vicinity. He said Quetta was acting strangely, begging to be let outside, then almost immediately back inside throughout the day; it was an annoyance, he said, but in retrospect she may have been trying to tell him something was wrong. LX picked up a couple of her friends still in high-school, then went to the middle-school to pick up BP and her friend; she took them to the trail and beach to take the high-school girls' senior pictures, then treated BP and her friend to ice-cream at Dairy Queen.
The girls and I got home at the same time around six; Hubs was outside grilling dinner. I asked BP to feed the cats before we sat down to dinner. "Ranger! Dusty! Dinner!" - it was her typcial call when getting their food. Ranger came running, Dusty did not - which unlike his non-appearance at breakfast, was highly unusual. We found him in one of his many sleeping places, stretched out like he did, with his head resting on a blanket kept between the couch and television cabinet for just that purpose.
Again, why would a seemingly healthy cat, relatively young just die in his sleep?
LX is taking it extremely hard; he was her cat from the beginning. Both cats have favorites; for Ranger it's Hubs and BP, and Dusty prefers me and LX - if LX is around, it's her over me. He was an aloof cat; he bestowed and accepted affection on his own terms. He was tiny, but always the alpha animal - ruling cat, dog, and human in the house. He was a hell-cat; his low growl could make your hair stand on end, and he often would chase teenage friends of LX's down the stairs, or block their way going up the stairs - his domain. BP's friends all steered clear. He accepted the dog as something to tolerate, but seemed to enjoy teasing her by laying inches from her face and staring her down until she looked the other way. LX had taken to calling him "Dustin" during the last few years; "Dusty" she claimed was not sophisticated enough to garner the respect that his attitude warrented.
If there is one thing that may have indicated he wasn't feeling himself, is that since LX went to college he has been less aloof - not cuddly, but more accepting of affection. He stayed in the living room with us during the evenings, while we're watching television or whatever, always close by instead of prowling the house. It was a noticable change; BP commented more than once it because he missed LX.
I feel some guilt over that. I have no doubt in my mind that animals feel emotion, but I also think there are times that we project feelings onto our pets we think they should have. Has Dusty really "missed" LX for more than a month? If she hadn't left, would we have thought that his acceptance of affection and being more social was odd enough that we would have taken him to the vet to see if anything was wrong. I'm honestly not sure.
I know I've rambled, and am sorry for that. I miss our cat.
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Post by Mini Mia on Oct 7, 2013 1:08:13 GMT -6
So sorry to hear of your loss, Phalon. Cancer comes to mind, but that most likely would have produced some type of sign. Maybe kidney disease? But that too would most likely have shown some type of sign as well. (Mom's dog peed in the floor repeatedly. Other than that, she didn't act sick. We thought it was a behavioral problem, until the vet gave a diagnosis.)
Maybe Dusty knew his time was short, and that is why he showed more affection than usual. Animals sometimes know when the end is near. He might have even held out until LX got home to say his goodbyes.
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