Tag: adoption

Should Adopted Dogs Get A New Name? Of course!

My mom just saw a post from @PepperDog on Twitter: Should adopted dogs get a new name?

Hardly a big question, given what else is going on in the world. As an adopted dog, I say, “If you’re up for adoption, the old cheesy saying is true. I don’t care what you call me. Just call me for dinner and treats.”

My mom changed my name right away. We were in the vet’s office. I was getting the onceover from that nice Dr. Claire at UrbanVet. Of course, I’d never seen her before, but she was very gentle when she poked and prodded. Cathy was saying, “I want to be sure she’s healthy.” I could tell Cathy (she wasn’t my mom yet) was nervous about getting another dog so I just went along with the program.  She kind of whispered to the vet, “Do you really think this is a good dog?” Somehow Dr. Claire kept a straight face and sakd yes.

Whew. For awhile I was worried.

Then we went to fill out the paperwork. The lady from the adoption agency had all my records. My mom said, “We are going to change her name. She has the same name as one of my friends and my friend would be very annoyed. I want to name her Gracie.”

Gracie? Where did that come from?

“Aw, she looks like a Gracie,” everyone said.

Later my mom told me, “You are named after the dog who was responsible for Three Dog Bakery. The founders wrote abook about her: Amazing Gracie. Maybe you’ll make me rich and famous.”

So far, my mom says, I’ve just brought her vet bills. But no worries.

My mom really wanted to change Ophelia’s name. “A little pretentious for a cat,” she said. “How about Furball?”

The staff at the vet’s office were horrified. “She’s such a nice cat! Ophelia’s perfect!” they cried.

Personally, I like Furball for Ophelia, because that’s what she is. But she’s a little pretentious and funny, too, just like her name.

Who cares? We’ve got a good home. Did I just hear my mom calling me for dinner?

Recycle your old collars and leashes

My mom always wondered what to do with my old leashes and collars. Today, via Twitter, she discovered that the folks at  http://www.BigDoggyBling.com will recycle doggie hardware to make new fashion accessories for rescue dogs.

I’m so glad she found this site. My mom doesn’t like to throw things away. She’s a great believer in, “Buy what you need…and only what you need.” My current leash looks just a little tired.

Recently she’s thinking of getting me a prong collar. She’s assured they don’t hurt me. She’s just determined to stop me from jumping and pulling, especially when I see a squirrel or an interesting stranger on the street. I’m not thrilled about the idea, but then again, my life could be worse. I get lots of exercise and have a whole fan club…even two cats to torture.

But it would be nice to get a new leash and collar every so often.

Michelle Obama walks her dog too.

My mom woke me up from my morning nap to share the story of Bo Obama, the new White House Dog. Here’s just one story.

Apparently Michelle Obama has not been wildly successful at getting her daughters to walk Bo. So she’s up at 5:15 AM walking the dog and she’s assumed dog training duties.

I have to congratulate Michelle on stepping up. Too many parents adopt a dog and then give it away when the kids get bored.  My mom wonders if that’s what happened to me, but I’m not saying. I believe in burying the past. I only dig up things at the dog park.

Adopting a dog is a commitment for life. And that’s a good thing.  I hope Michelle Obama realizes that she’s actually getting a great deal when she walks Bo early in the morning. There’s something about getting out in the fresh air and bonding with your owner, from my point of view. And my own mom Cathy says she loves waking up and looking forward to a walk with me.

Even when I go out to the dog park with my Aunt Sara twice a week, there’s something special about my walks with my mom. That’s our bonding time, even when I pull on the leash and most of our conversation is mom yelling, “No! Down! Stop eating things!”

Michelle Obama has a lot to look forward to.

It’s official: Ophelia back to normal…

Or whatever passes for normal in a cat these days.

My mom is so happy. Ophelia has been eating…and eating. Mom put a big dish of food in the laundry room, so Ophelia would have some privacy. Ophelia dug right in with gusto. You’d think she hadn’t eaten for a month. Well, she hadn’t. She’s been eating via “assisted feeding.”ophelia posing

Cathy feels she has gained an hour a day. No more fluid. No more force feeding.

She also gained a new cat. Ophelia’s whole personality has changed, too. She’s become a strong, confient, dominant feline. She joins us on the sofa. She sleeps on Cathy’s bed.

Now we’re waiting for the cats to start getting along. Ophelia has a magnificent purr and a horrible, ugly hiss. I’m afraid Creampuff gets hisses, boos and growls. I get ignored. My mom gets the purrs. Welll, she pays the big vet bills.

Ophelia still hanging around

My mom has been force feeding Ophelia twice a day. She just started giving the poor cat Sub-Q fluids every other day. You’d think she’d be ready to say, “Alas, poor Ophelia….” and send her back where she came from.

But no. She exclaims, “Ophelia purred while I gave her fluids!” and “Ophelia’s so good when I feed her.”

Personally, I think it’s the Stockholm Syndrome. Mom is getting attached to this useless furry creature who runs her life. But it looks like Ophelia’s here to stay. I’m trying to make friends, but Ophelia doesn’t get it. A friendly “arf” and a sniff…who could misunderstand?

Cats are dumb.

Why can’t a cat be more like a dog?

Cathy has been getting very frustrated with our new housemate, Ophelia. Ophelia is beautiful and gentle. She has a wonderful loud purr. But she’s terrified of Creampuff.

Yeah, you read that right. You’re probably wondering how anyone can be intimidated by that ditzy calico. But Ophelia hisses and growls – loud! – when she encounters Creampuff. And Creampuff tries to chase Ophelia.

As a result of all the trauma, Ophelia spends a lot of time under Cathy’s bed. She doesn’t even like to venture out to eat.

No dog would ever be so dumb. We won’t let a silly little cat keep us from the most important moments in our life: dinner. We’d never hide.

Ophelia doesn’t know how lucky she is. Cathy is looking up names of cat therapists. She thinks Ophelia needs a shrink.

I’m not saying a word. (Did I tell you dogs are smart?) But I think a certain dog owner needs to have her head examined. Why on earth did she adopt a furry problem child?

Adopting our new housemate

Good grief. We can’t have any peace around here.

We just said sad good-bys to Tiger. Well, my mom Cathy was sad. I’m philosophical. Cats come. Cats go.

We went to the Seattle Animal Shelter, just to look. Cathy’s neighbors, Diana and Rachel, offered to give us a ride. Yep…you read that right. Us. I went along too. Cathy wanted to show the Shelter folks what a good pet owner she is.gracie in shelter

Naturally I stole the show. Everyone kept saying, “What a beautiful dog.”

One of the staff volunteers gave me a toy.

Diana, who drove us down, is holding my leash firmly. I’m waiting for Cathy to finish the paperwork. Isn’t this dumb? When she adopted me, my foster mom just drove me down. She could tell Cathy would be a great owner. This Shelter is more complicated.

adaoption sceneAnd here’s Cathy with the Adoption Volunteer who helped her choose Ophelia. And me. Do I look as bored as I feel?

And here’s the adoptee herself. Can you tell she’s overflowing her carrier? Mom is making all kinds of noise about kitty aerobics.cat in carrier

No problem. I get my aerobics in the park, thank you very much.

But there’s at least one silver lining. With a 17-pound cat, nobody’s looking at my waistline. Welcome, Ophelia!