Guess I have a new family member.
7 days ago
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3 new members to the family
Comments (19)Ok, here are the pics I promised, and Ill link you to the rest of the album at the end of this post. Im only gonna post the pics of my lil trachy in here. First is just the latest shot of the whole thing. Not too much difference really, but there are 3 new leaves. Pic 1: This next pic is is looking down the center. you can see the new leaves, and how they look different from the older / outer leaves. Pic 2: In this next pic, I took at at an angle, so the two leaves that are coming into the photo from the bottom right towards to top left diagonally. The leaf that is behind ( the older leaf) as you can see is darker green, and much more narrow, and the leaflets folded nearly close, compared to the lower, brighter, wider leaf in front of it. That older leaf is the one that is blocking a clear view of the chair in the center of the photo. Pic 3: In this last pic, the 3 new leaves are clearly visible as well. The two leaves in the very center of the pic facing the camera are the focus of this pic. The leaf that appears to be lower, is the 2nd newest leaf, as you can tell since it is shorter, yet still it has opened. You can see the 3rd and newest leaf opening down in the middle Behind the 2nd newest leaf, is another older leaf, and here too you can clearly see the difference. the older leaf in the back ground in the center is narrower and its "leaflets" are more folded closed. So those were the difference I was talking about, they seem to be similar to the difference in your leaves, but yours may be more dramatic since your palm appears to be slightly older/ larger. What do ya think?...See MoreNew member of our family....
Comments (29)Linda, he's beautiful. Ashley adopted a German Shepherd too, his name was Rex. He gets called everything anyway, as my family is wont to do, mostly he gets called "Doofus". Buster, of course, has become the WonderDoodle. The WonderWeiner was Actually "Annie's Lucky in Love", his name was supposed to be "Lucky", but he became WeinerDog, then WeinerKing, then Wonderweiner. Cooper has become Noops, my neice called him "nooper" but I mostly call him "baby" I think you should name him whatever you want, although I also like Bullet, being a Roy Rogers/Trigger fan, LOL. He's beautiful and I'm happy for both of you. Ann T, I didn't know you'd gotten another dog after Stetson, I'm happy for you too and I didn't really think Karen would get another dog after Captain, but she did too. Just more love to go around, I think. Annie...See MoreNew Family Member!
Comments (45)Break out the Kleenex again! Lost and found BY: From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living Catholic Faith We had waited nearly two years to get a Chesapeake Bay Retriever puppy. I daydreamed of names, felt the brown puppy fur between my fingers, and smelled a young warm-bellied pup. The breeder called with a possible dog for us; he was four months old, had no training, and could not be AKC registered. I explained he would be our family dog and accompany my husband and son hunting. I assured her that his age and lack of early attention was okay with us. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I was determined to have this dog, no matter what. Thus, on a windy day, in late December, we met him. He was shy and afraid of us, of everything really, but I just knew he was my dog. We named him Kenai after our favorite river in Alaska, where my parents lived. Less than one month later, our only child, our sixteen-year-old son, died. As I grieved, whimpering and crying in my pain, Kenai sat at attention at his fence, listening for my movements in the house. He watched and waited, 24/7. I spent more than an hour each day sitting cross-legged on a railroad tie in the yard, Kenai lying across my lap. His fur became a prayer blanket to me, his eyes a healing solace. I sometimes wondered if he was an angel, sent to companion me in my grief. On April 1st, a little more than two months after Justin died, I made a business trip to California. It was a mistake for me to travel so soon. I didnt realize how exhausted I was and how little energy I had to expend. I couldnt wait to get home. On a Sunday evening, I called to check in with Jim, my husband. He sounded awful and told me he had some very bad news. While at the fire station on Interstate 80 in Wyoming where he volunteers, a train passed, blowing its whistle. Kenai, standing next to him, had bolted in fear, simply disappearing into the stark barren landscape. Jim searched for hours and finally drove the forty-five minutes home, bereft. He knew how much Kenai mattered to me, and couldnt believe this loss. When I got home, we drove to Wyoming and searched and searched. No one had seen him. On Holy Thursday, a friend and I drove to every house, every ranch, and posted lost dog signs. I berated myself for seeking a lost dog, while there were places in the world with people searching for missing family and friends. Yet I knew the loss of our son had left us hopeless. We could do nothing to change it. I had to do something now to try to find Kenai, to ease our loss. I had to believe again. Kenai was only seven months old -- a shy, frightened dog. But I had to try, to hope for a miracle. I posted a missing dog report on dogdetective.com. The summer passed. Whenever we went to our cabin, ten miles south of where we lost Kenai, I scoured the landscape. I knew that perhaps someone had found him and kept him, or he had been eaten by a predator, or killed by a car. But I still looked. Something inside me believed in hope. I stopped telling my husband what I was doing. He felt bad enough. Nearly nine months passed. Christmas was coming and we planned to visit my parents in Alaska. It had been the worst year of our lives, and we needed a respite. On December 23rd, we left Colorado in a snowstorm. Two feet of snow had fallen; cattle were dying on the plains. Arriving in Alaska, the serenity and beauty welcomed us. My parents cozy lodge was a comforting place to spend Christmas. The morning of December 24th, my husband was on the telephone. I heard snippets of the conversation. "In a dead cow carcass? Brown dog? Skinny? Cant get near him?" He hung up, shaken, and explained. A rancher out with her cows had spotted a small animal on a distant ridge. She determined it was a dog. She could see it had a collar and flash of silver around its neck. When she approached the animal, it ran. Searching the Internet for lost dogs, Brenda found my notice Id long given up on but never deleted. She promised to leave food near the cow carcass the dog used for shelter, and warned there was another big storm coming. At Christmas Mass, I couldnt concentrate. Images of shepherds, ranchers, sheep, dogs, mangers, cradles, and cow carcasses traversed my mind. Was it possible that Kenai had survived all this time, alone? Did I dare I believe he was alive? I asked myself, as I do every Christmas, "How is the Christ-child birthed within me this year?" Might the birthing be hope in a dog that was lost and found? That what seemed to be dead could live? Dare I believe and hope for a miracle? Brenda promised to keep feeding him until we returned on December 31st and could meet her at the ranch. She was certain the skittish dog was Kenai. Though he wouldnt let her within twenty-five yards of him, the kibble she left on the snowy ground was wolfed down each morning. January 1st dawned clear and sunny and we drove to Wyoming. Entering the ranch, we stopped to scan the landscape with binoculars. On a distant ridge we saw him. There was no doubt now. My stomach started to churn. Within a few minutes, we met Brenda. I could barely breathe. There was only room for one of us in her tractor cab. Jim stared at me and whispered, "Go." Maneuvering to the ridge top seemed longer than ten minutes. Cows followed as we lurched through icy snow drifts. The sun radiated brilliance against snow and rock. We stopped where Brenda had left food for Kenai. Heart pounding, I stepped from the cab. Brenda backed the tractor away. I walked forward. Suddenly I saw a flash of brown on the other ridge. Clapping my hands, I called, "Kenai, Kenai, Kenaiii," over and over and over. Could he hear me, would he remember? Kenai stopped and sniffed the air. Instantly wiggling with recognition from nose to tail, he raced through snowdrifts toward me. Whimpers and cries erupted from both of us. I fell to my knees in the snow, arms wide open, calling him. I could see his puppy collar! A solid, furry hay-smelling body launched into my embrace. He was undersized, but unharmed. We jumped up, tumbled around each other, playing, touching, petting, tears pouring forth. I cant believe he remembers! Hes safe! When Jim was within one hundred yards of us, I knelt, presenting to him Kenai. Kenai looked to me, then rushed to Jim as I watched, sobbing with joy. Oh yes, I hope. I believe....See MoreOur new family member...I hope!
Comments (31)Thank you for being willing to take in a senior dog! If you are on Instagram or Facebook, you might like to check out the page called Susie's Senior Dogs. Lots of dogs around the country in need of homes, but lots of inspiring stories there, too. For people wondering why a senior dog ends up at the shelter, many times there is no legit reason and they just get dumped. Pets are often dumped in the summer because people want to go on vacation but don't want to pay a pet sitter. But frequently, it's because the owner died or went into assisted living. All pet owners should have a plan for their pets! If you are reading this, think about which friends or family members could be counted on to take care of your beloved pets and have a chat with them. I have worked in rescue and you would be amazed at how often family members will have a pet euthanized after the owner is gone, dump it at a shelter, give it to the first taker, or just put it outside to fend for itself. It's mind boggling....See More- 7 days ago
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