Sunday, 9 December 2018

Mentally Strong and far Too Confident

Yorkshire Terriers are a breed that we can rehome easily, everyone wants them regardless of size, sex, age or personality. However, unless you own one, you will never fully understand how confident, and controlling this breed are. I have two Yorkies, both so different, that it is hard to believe they are the same breed.

The one trait they both have is loyalty, and I honestly believe my Yorkies would die trying to protect me. They would charge in to the most dangerous of situations, risking everything to prove they were my protectors. Where as my big dogs, would look up from their beds, and consider whether it was worth all the effort.

If allowed on my bed one of my Yorkies makes sure NO ONE can get near me, and this includes the kids and hubby on occasion. He will begin with a low growl, which leads to a full blown Tasmanian devil moment. The traits of loyalty and protection are lovely, but when it goes too far it can be daunting.

We have a Yorkie looking for a home in the UK at the moment, Yoyo is a typical yorkie, however, he takes loyalty to the next level! He wants to ensure that nothing can hurt his new mum, as everything could endanger her life.

This is proving to be a challenge finding him a home that understands he is mentally strong and far too confident. He needs an experienced home that can help him understand that not everything in the world is a danger, and that maybe if he didnt approach every situation looking for a fight people would want to stroke him more.

Yoyo is not a bad dog, and I have seen Yorkies act like this time and time again, but he needs a home that understands his needs, which are that he thinks he is a pitbull trapped inside a teeny body. There must be someone willing to offer our little stroppy Yorkie a home!

Friday, 7 December 2018

Time to Reflect.....

This time of year is hard (all year is hard) but this time of year feels tougher, there are so many dogs being dumped, and very few donations. People are not rehoming, or donating due to the big C being just round the corner. I understand 100% but that doesn't make it any easier.

The dogs I have in the kennels I now know will be here until the new year, they will spend their Christmas in a kennel, not in a home being loved. All I can hope for is that they get reserved, and can begin their journey as soon as possible. At this time of year I begin to look back on the year, and reflect.

For me I need to focus on the good, as there is so much bad in what I do, I see the worst, the most evil, and the extreme. I see dogs that are starved and beaten, left to die, let down by humans time and time again. Although I cannot save them all, and I loose some along the way, there are some that fight for their right to be here.

Murtle my little mole rat is one that has stamped her place on the world, and stated she has a right to be safe, loved, and in a home. She has improved beyond belief, from the hairless, scabby, infected mess that was handed to me, to a stunning, beautiful dog who needs a home.

Murtle is now up for adoption, and will thrive in the perfect home, she loves toys, and balls, and playing, and although wary of people, she will come around. Her transformation is incredible, and although everyone keeps telling me this was due to me, in fact it was due to the people who donated. Without those funds she could not have received the treatment she needed.

This is why donations are vital to give dogs like Murtle a chance, to ensure these dogs get the medical attention they need. So although it is harder with all those mince pies to buy, but please keep the dogs in your mind, and remember together we can save more lives.

Thursday, 29 November 2018

Who The Daddy!

We have a Pygmy goat, called Mrs B (named because she is stubborn, and slightly overweight) she has lived her for over three years, with no other pygmy's. Although we have the mountain goats, nothing has ever occurred, and to be honest, I didn't realize it could, until the other day.

The other day I noticed that Mrs B was larger than usual, In fact she was huge, but I shrugged it off as too much food, and not enough exercise, story of my life too! Every day she seems to expand, and them I noticed she was producing milk.... OH GOD!

This could mean only only thing she was pregnant, but how, we had no other Pgymys, Horns had only just moved in, and goats are pregnant for five months, meaning the timeline just wasn't possible.  Surely the huge mountain goats, could not have got their wicked way with Mrs B.

Discussions were had with vets, and it seems that yes goats of all breeds can get it on, which then posed the question how the hell was she going to birth a much larger animal. Whilst debating the problems, possibilities, and repeating oh fuck a lot, Mrs B took it upon herself to show me that she was made of tough stuff, and on returning from the vets one day..... Billy had made an appearance....

So, one more mouth to feed, and OMG how small is this goat, I dont think you fully understand how small until you meet him. Regardless of who the daddy is, he is very cute..... and I am grateful that Mrs B took it all in her stride, and is not back to just being fat rather than HUGE

Thursday, 22 November 2018

Old Dogs are Just as Special If Not More!

Why people leave their dogs in the pound I will never understand, however, leaving their old dogs REALLY pisses me off. These dogs have been loyal for all those years, and the owner simply walk into the place that they know will potentially kill their dog, and leave them behind. These owners I want to hit with a large heavy object, and continue hitting them until they understand why this is wrong.

When I save these old dogs my heart breaks, they do not understand what is happening, many are blind, deaf, or simply confused. Their old grey faces tell a thousand stories, and their eyes show the confusion and hurt they are feeling. Although they are old, they deserve a new home that will love them, and cherish them until the day they die.

Thankfully there is a huge number of people who feel the same as me, and my adoption rate for oldies is good. They find amazing homes for their twilight years, and there is never a question that they are "worth" any less due to their age. Sadly though there are people out there that feel old dogs should be "cheaper" or even free as well, they are old!

So, why? why does it matter if the dog is 3 or 13 the adoption is the same, it costs the same to get the dog ready for adoption, and the same to feed, treat and transport. So, why, should the adoption fee be cheaper? I was told the other day by some delightful woman who wanted two of my oldies that it was not fair to ask for an adoption fee.

Fair? this I was confused about and when I asked her what she meant, she blocked me, oh that old chestnut! Another woman then stated there should be "negotiation" because they were old. Am I missing the point with these dogs, they need a home, or homes that will love them for being them, old and lovely, not negotiated on like a plot of land.

Needless to say the trolls came out, and as always I was the worlds worst, Oh well, heard it all before. I know I do a good job, know I always put the dogs first, so call me what you want I really don't care. I consider an old dog to be worth as much as a puppy or younger dog, and if other people don't feel the same, then you know where the door is.

Sunday, 18 November 2018

When Someone Cares it Makes a Huge Difference

Every year we have bad winters here, yes I live in the canaries, but I also live upt a mountain, where the weather is harsh during the winter months. Although we have tried to make it flood proof, and water tight over the years, the main part to suffer is where we live. So every time the skies open, my heart sinks, the buckets come out the power goes off, and I pray for it to stop.

The builder I have is fantastic, he tackles everything I set him to do, and has helped to improve things so much over a short space of time. He has helped to put in new drainage in different areas, re roofed patches, and ensured that the animals are dry. For me this has always been my priority, therefore, our comfort, or needs are pushed back.

However, the other day the builder looked up and said "what about you?" I stared at him like he had grown two heads, and asked "what do you mean?" We went on to have a conversation about my "house" the lack of gutters, drains, and bad electrics. I did what I have done for years, I shrugged it off, laughed and said It's fine, we are used to it. He said that was going to change, as no one could live like this, again I laughed we had been for so long, it was the "norm"

Mr C set out to move electrics, build new gutters, fit new drain pipes and divert water away from my house. When all was in place, a tiny part of me wanted it to rain to see if it would work, yesterday I got that wish as the skies opened. Mr C was here to see his work in action, and suddenly realized that when I had told him it rained, I meant it RAINED!

On the whole everything worked well, obviously we still had drips, and cracks but this was such an improvement I smiled as I saw water going away from my house,and not pouring towards it like a river. Mr C is a perfectionist and stressed because there were drips, I however, was so happy, just think, once piece of drain, and someone who actually cares had made such a huge difference to my life..... sad I know but true!

Tuesday, 13 November 2018

I do not understand!

On Sunday I went to the pound, as Sunday is saving lives day to collect 15 dogs that now have the chance of happiness and a home. In the 15 were two very old large Belguim Malinios, who had been dropped off at the pound by their owner. I posted these dogs on FB, to explain how I was heartbroken, and felt let down by humans.

The first thing I do not understand is how any owner can pop their old dogs into their car, drive them to a high kill pound, where potentially they will be killed at anytime. Everyone knows that this pound kills dogs when full, so there is no denying he knew exactly what he was placing his dogs into.

The pound is no holiday camp, it is cold, damp, no beds, hundreds of dogs, and the owner simply dropped them off, and walked away. He didn't look back, he didn't change his mind, he got in his car and drove off, leaving his beautiful, loyal dogs behind to more than likely end their days in a pound. If they were lucky they would be PTS rather than killed by younger, stronger dogs in a dog fight.

The second thing I do not understand, is how people can justify this man's behavior. My post is full of "but he may have been sick" "he may have been dying" "he did the right thing" WTF how can anyone think that walking into a kill pound with two dogs that you have had for over ten years is ok. There are NO reasons, excuses, or justifications for this.

If he was dying, which I highly doubt, then take your dogs to your vet, sit with them, say goodbye, and let them die with dignity. Let them take their last breath in your arms, with the owner they loved, rather than on a cold floor alone, and unloved.

I am at a complete loss this morning that people are honestly thinking that taking your dog to a kill pound is acceptable. Am I angry with the owner and think he needs a FB bashing no, but I also do not think people should be supporting his decision. Sadly though if this is the world we live in were people think his actions are "normal" and correct then god help all dogs as dumping it seems is the "right thing to do"

Sunday, 11 November 2018

Happy Endings!

I do this to make a difference, I do this to give something back to the place I call home, and I do this for the happy endings. Not every dog gets their happy ending, for some sadly I am too late. However, once in a while a happy ending comes along that reminds me why I do this, and that the blood, sweat and tears are worth it.

Ricardo the Wonder Pod is now in his home, and all I can say is what an amazing home. Everything about his new home felt right from the start, and yet again my gut was correct. He has had such a journey, and to be honest I didn't think his story would end the way it did.

There were many times that I thought he was going to end up with One leg, no legs, crippled, but the fight he had was incredible. Every day he wanted to live, he wanted to travel this journey with me, and get to his happy ending. When I say goodbye to dogs at the airport it is always mixed feelings, and saying goodbye to Ricardo was hard.

As he gazed up at me with a look of why are you not coming with me, all you can do is kiss them on the nose, tell them it will all be ok, and hope they understand that you are not leaving them, just handing them over to their new family for them to love and cherish them.

When I see Ricardo now, I feel proud, I helped this amazing dog get to where he is today. Of course my vets did all the hard, skilled bit, however, I was the one who spent hours wrapping and un wrapping legs. Cleaning, and spraying, making sure that he stayed still, didn't move, moved a little, I did that!

Like a proud Mama that watches her kids take their first steps, or go off to school, I sit back and watch him grow and develop. Ricardo looks so happy, and for that I have his new home to thank. I wonder if he remembers the crazy lady who sat with him, stroked his nose and told him everything would be ok... I hope so, as I will always remember him.