How Many More Times Can It Break?

People often tell me I have a huge heart, what I believe is that I am strong, and can handle pain, and loss well. However, just because I am strong enough to handle pain, doesn't mean I deserve to. A little tiny dog broke my heart this week just a little more. Sometimes I wonder if I will run out of pieces, and one day it will break entirely.

A pug was found in appalling condition, he was so emaciated that he had lost all muscle from his body. He was to weak to stand, too weak to move, and was one of the worst abuse cases I have seen since the Telde 4.


The group that found him, asked for my help, there was no way I could say no.
I collected the little old man, just 2.3KG of him, and brought him home, I sat with him, spoke to him, and told him to fight. He looked at me and wanted to live, he had not given up.

Off we went to the vets, and days like this I need to remember that they are human, they do not super powers, and cannot perform miracles. We discussed Mr M's condition, and my vet had the serious face, the one that means he wants me to listen, and think with my head, not my heart.

Although I listened, and I knew what he was saying was right, I asked him to try. Mr M didn't want to give up, his eyes, and his brain wanted to live. Sadly his body had already shut down.

The following day I got the call that I knew was coming, but I hoped would not. Mr M's organs were shutting down, he was dying, I told the vets to tell him I was on the way. I walked in the clinic, straight to his cage, and took the frail, little dog, disconnected him from his drips, wrapped him in a blanket, and sat in the corner.

As I sat cuddling a dog, I had known less than 24 hours, I could feel my heart breaking a little more. I kissed him on the nose, stroked his head, and told him we all loved him and I was sorry. Sorry that humans had done this, sorry that I could not get to him sooner, and sorry that I had failed him, by not producing the miracle he needed. He took his last breathe, in my arms.

I got in my car, the place where I can let it all go, and for 20 minutes as I drove, the tears fell onto my lap. I often need that first 20 minutes when I leave the vets, as I learnt a long time ago, you cannot bottle it up. A broken heart is the worst, it is like having broken ribs, nobody can see your pain, but it hurts every time you breathe.

RIP ... Mr M I am sorry <3

Five Long Years

On this day five years ago, I did one of the craziest things I have ever done in my life, and trust me I have done many crazy things. I decided in my wisdom, to move my animals, and family to a plot of land on top of a mountain that had no house, barely an buildings, but a huge amount of potential.

When I found this plot, I fell in love, it had the most amazing views, no neighbors, and space to build many areas for different animals. The fact it had no where to live did not put me off in the slightest. My husband repeated several times, there is no where to live, and I simply nodded and smiled.

This did not put me off, it would be an adventure I said, it would be fun I said! So, we moved in to an old goat shed, with one wall, no plumbing, no electrics, a leaky roof and nothing else, oh and did I mention it was raining. It was fine I had a plan, I had watched all these build it yourself programs, how hard could it be!

I had the idea that as we were living there it would get built quicker, the fact that we had zero building skills, and full time jobs didn't phase me in the slightest. I was also making sure that the animals had warm, dry housing, way before we did. So, we bought building materials as we could afford them, laid blocks in between work, and slowly made the goat shed home.

Building around jobs, animals and day to day life is stressful, hard work, and has taken so long, but I am incredibly proud of what we have achieved. Looking back I was insane, even more than usual, and five years on my goat shed still leaks, is still unfinished, and still needs a hell of a lot of work, but it is home.

Gracie Needs a Boot!

Gracie was an owner surrender, she had come from an abusive home, where the "man" of the house used to drop kick her across the room. After many years of this the woman who lived there saw sense and handed her over.

When Gracie arrived she had a strange walking position, and would often run with her leg in the air. Obviously there was more to this little dog than first thought, so off to the vets we went. The trauma her back leg had suffered was severe. She had a broken hip, which had been broken over and over, and then trapped the nerve.

Gracie just carried on, through the pain, and made the most of her life, she ran around, although it must have hurt, maybe she had learnt running away was the only way to survive. Gracie had surgery on her hips, and as always the vet did an amazing job, but years of carrying the leg up, meant it was now habit.

The vets have recommended a boot for Gracie, to help correct the strange walking position.  The boot cost a huge amount, but due to generous people on my page the money was raised, and the boot ordered. Next week Gracie goes for her boot fitting, and hopefully her rehabilitation can proceed.

Gracie is an amazing little dog that needs a chance of happiness, and as always I will go above and beyond to ensure that she has the best chance of regaining full use in her leg, and going on to a new home that will love her, care for her, and never use her as a football ever again. 

511 Days and Counting!

One of my white cats got cancer some years ago, and I made the decision to have her ears removed to save her life. The vet and I discussed the options, and at the time he told me it would buy her 500 days. I thought this was very precise, but shrugged it off as a guess.

The cat made a great recovery, all the cancer was removed, she adapted to no ears, in reality she didn't care at all. A week ago, a growth appeared on her face, I knew what it was but said nooooo its just due to the cold weather WTF does that even mean.

I took her to see the vet and he confirmed what I already knew the cancer was back, he asked if it had been 500 days, and I looked at him confused then remembered his words. I checked and it had been 506 days since her operation. How the hell can cancer be that precise, how the hell did it know!

I asked if anything could be done, and sadly no was the answer, I could remove half her face, but then it would appear somewhere else, all I can do is watch and wait. I am angry at the moment as why should she die just because cancer says so, why should she suffer because after 500 days the universe deems it is her time.

It is now 511 days, and literally every day I pray she has more, I want her to reach 550 and then 600 and then 700. Sadly, I know this won't happen, the cancer is spreading, and it is aggressive. For now I am taking every day as a success, one more that she says fuck you to cancer.

When the time is right I will let her go but for now she is fighting it, and I am making sure that she doesn't give up. Why is life so cruel, why is being an adult so hard, I think today I will go and make a blanket fort, and play with crayons, and forget all about the shit world we live in. 

Living Abroad makes or Breaks You!

Many people ask why I moved abroad, do I like it, and would I ever go back to the UK. I moved for many reasons, do I like it, yes, or I would not still be here, moving anywhere is possible, and would I ever go back, hell no. Many things change when you move abroad, and I believe the ability to make these changes is what determines whether you stay, or leave for the life you had before.

You need to embrace the fact that you are living in a different country, not want it to be your old life in the sun. In the first few years it is like being on a roller coaster of emotions, with highs and lows. You either  hang on tight, grow and develop, embracing your new way of life, or fall off and admit defeat.

As you begin to build a new life, you evolve, and change, some people love this change and others struggle. I have lived on this beautiful rock for over 13 years now, and my life has changed so much. The top things that have changed are:

My ability to blag a conversation in two languages, there are many times when I randomly say words, in the wrong language at the wrong time. I can however, say every swear words perfectly.

You learn to never get attached to people, and although this may seem odd as everyone likes to have some friends, far too many people are passing through. many of my friends have left, and every time, you know you will never see them again. People that were once a huge part of your life, move on, and pretty soon you are forgotten, left behind on the rock they once called home.

Normality has been removed from my life, "normal" is what we are told we must conform to, but why? I have learnt there are many other ways to do things in life, which work, and may not seem correct to many, but hey I don't care. As you are thrown into many difficult situations living abroad, you learn so much about yourself, and how strong you can be on a daily basis.

Nostalgia can be a bitch, and it creeps up on you when you least expect it, it may be a smell, or a song. It transports you back to an old life, one that was not all bad, just one that you may have outgrown. You will get an overwhelming feeling of being homesick, not for the place, but for the people that you miss.

Change is something that I have learnt to embrace, as for your new life to work you must grab change and let it happen, or it will destroy your dreams. Everything changes when you move abroad, and if you think it doesn't you are pretty naive.

There are many things that I miss about the UK, however, I am far happier here than I ever was. My life has changed so much from the endless lunches with friends, to the expensive shoes and cars. You soon learn what and who is important in life, and if you get the chance then grab it with both hands, and hold on tight as it will be one hell of a journey, but worth every moment.

Got To Love A Bargain!

Money is always tight, and feeding the sheer quantity of animals that I have is always hard. Don't get me wrong, they are always fed, in fact over fed according to different vets who tell me my animals are fat... Hey I'm Irish, we are feeders! However, finding the funds does cause me stress, and worry so when I am offered a bargain, who am I to say no.

I was at the feed store one day when we were discussing hay, now he has a million different types, and you can often find me in there, stroking and smelling different bales. Yes I am a little crazy, but there is nothing better than the smell of hay, well closely followed by melting Tar, but you get the idea.

The feed guy imports English hay, but it is really expensive, so I have to gaze at those bales from afar! On this occasion he asked me to come and look at his hay, as the Spanish wouldn't buy it due to something horrible being in the bales. He was making sound like there was some weird creature, or fungus in the bales, rambling on and on about it hurting people, and no one could go near the bales, and would I look to see what it was as I was foreign.

Of course being foreign meant I was an expert on all things weird in hay bales! But as soon as I got near I knew what the problem was, thistles, The bales were riddled with thistles, and of course the Spanish had no idea what they were. In their eyes the bales were bad, and this poor guy thought he was going to be left with a huge pile of hay he couldn't sell.

We begun negotiating, and the price got lower and lower, and just as we agreed the price my phone went off, dog disaster 101.... as I begun to walk off shouting ok over my shoulder, he asked how many I wanted, me being me, and not really listening shouted back "total" . Yep I had just agreed to take them all, not actually knowing what ALL meant.

A few days later the feed arrived, which is a huge task anyway, it all needs off loading, sorting and storing. Not a task for the weak, or faint hearted, but like with everything it is dig your heels in grit your teeth and get on with it. On the lorry was 125 bales of the "bad hay" not too bad I thought.

After over an hour of moving 125 bales of hay I cursed my decision to agree to take them as I was tired, hot, and a little scarred from thistles! I was just leaning on the wall admiring my neatly staked pile of hay, when I heard a lorry.

This was unusual, so off I went to the gates to see the feed lorry had returned, at this point my heart sank. FUCK...... he had more, and I mean a whole lorry load. I literally had no idea where he was going to put them, and no energy to move them, so I did what any normal person does, I told him to tip them out onto the middle of the property.

After this decision was made I knew it was stupid, but a bit like agreeing to buy them "ALL" it was done, and I had a huge pile of hay bales in the middle of the property

For three days I ignored the pile, people were commenting, and I simply went what hay, I cannot see it, therefore it does not exist. The reality was it needed moving.

All I can say is I love my builders, as they got the task of moving a further 278 bales of hay. Yes I did the pitiful, I am weak, I am a girl and I cannot do it line, but hey we all need that line at some point in our lives! Hay all moved, bargain achieved, I would love to say I will listen in the future, but I know it will happen again :)

One Hot Potato and a Pair of Pliers!

I have many roosters here, which can be noisy and at times stressful when they decide to cross each others boundaries and fight. Most of the time they stay in different areas, ensuring that no blood is spilt , but yesterday an almighty fight broke out, and if you have ever seen two roosters fight it is brutal.

They have spurs on their back legs, and in ninja style moves they leap up into the air and crash down on their oppositions head, causing high impact damage. Although athletic, and slightly fascinating how they can perform that maneuver, the damage they do is extreme.

Two of the rooster truly hate each other, and will stalk each other, circling, wings flapping, glaring at each other with beady eyes, so I decided yesterday I had enough. It was time to microwave the potato and grab the pliers, sounds bizarre, yep well nothing in my life is normal.

Years ago I discovered the most amazing thing to with a hot potato, other than smoother it with butter and cheese. Yep, you guessed it you can remove roosters spurs with a hot potato! There are other options including ripping them out, but this causes huge amounts of blood, using a hacksaw, however, I manage to grate my own thumb when using a cheese grater, so a hacksaw would likely kill me.

So, you need to microwave the potato until boiling hot, as in so hot it could be the suns surface temperature, ram it on the end of the spur, wait five minutes, then gently pull off the top spur with the pliers, which reveals a smaller non lethal spur underneath.

The first time I ever did this I did think WTF am I doing, sat on the floor with a rooster who is trying to eat the potato, burning my hands. However, it works, it really does, and it is so easy and painless for the rooster. I may have had third degree burns, but they were fine.

So, spurs removed they can go and fight till their hearts content not causing extreme damage to one another. I suppose if I gather enough spurs, I could make a necklace from it, to ensure that the few remaining people who think I'm normal may change their minds!