quote:

Originally posted by parabellum:
This is the kind of thing that makes me want to withdraw from the world and live on a farm catering to traumatized animals. If I could afford it, that's exactly what I would do.

Yep. Me too.

My better half is partially disabled and at home alone a lot while I'm at work. She has taken in several feral cats and taught them how to Cat. She is surprisingly good at it.

Her latest is a kitten from a feral colony. She has him playing fetch. What a sight that is.

Thanks for the story and video.

There is little that brings me more joy than an abused or neglected cat or dog finding their forever home with somebody who'll truly love them.

Our latest rescue (cat) was a challenge. At one point he bit me but good. That got him this >< close to being sent back. But I relented. "It was my fault," I told my wife, "and he'll have a hard time finding a new forever home with the rescue having to tell prospective new owners why he'd been sent back."

Over time he's settled down and I'm glad we kept him.

I wish we could take more. There are so many

Years ago, when cancer took Jesse Mastiff from us, my wife and I went to the local shelter to see who needed a new home. There was a floppy-eared Doberman, maybe five or six years old, sitting quietly. We "interviewed" her and took her home with us. She seemed glad to be there.

Second day she was there, I came home from work. She greeted me with quiet dignity, and followed me into the bedroom when I went in to change out of my office clothes. She sat and watched me, and as soon as I took my belt off, she was distressed, she peed on the floor, started shaking, and tried to crawl under the bed.

I was enraged at the clear manifestation that she had been beaten by a previous owner. I contacted the shelter, they would not give me any information on her history. I'm not sure what I would have done if I had been able to identify the S.O.B.

Heidi Doberman soon came to realize that she was safe with us, she was part of the family for another eleven years until old age caught up with her.

quote:

Originally posted by ensigmatic:
There are so many

And that's why this guy ended every episode of TPIR with this:



I wasn't aware that the tradition was continued by Drew Carey.

May God bless you, Bob. 95 and still going strong

If you're ever in need of feeling some hope about the world, watch dodo videos. So many uplifting stories about rejected/neglected dogs thriving once they're taken in by someone who cares.

It is not you Ham. She is just at a point in her life where sometimes they do that. A touch of dementia I would guess. Maybe mixed in with some pain. Surely it is not you. If you study them you will see. It is part of the aging process. Have some of those issue's now with my girl.

Thank you so much for that. Made my day that much better.

Just the still of the video made me tear up, knowing that she was subject to trauma and was fearful... Hoping she has a wonderful life moving forward.

Can't watch the video right now - don't want to have tears at work.

Have you talked to your Vet or breed groups about this? It sounds like there may be some underlying health issue that's bothering her.

I have three dogs now and hey are all rescue dogs, the oldest a Beagle named Barney just turned 18 human years old. has lost most of his sight and hearing but the darn dog still comes to the door when I get home with his tail wagging. We rescued him at 6 months old and it's just killing me that I may have to put him down very soon. I know he's struggling but the wag of his tail when I get home keeps telling me it's not time yet. The other two are a pair of Maltese/Yorkies that the owner did't want any more and they are brothers from the same litter who just turned 4.

We rescued Charlie about 2 1/2 years ago.
I had not owned a dog since I was a child, but the chance to take Charlie in came along.

Just seeing his tail wag, you can see how happy he is to see you.
You can sense his joy when you play fetch with him in the yard; chasing the ball and running back while making it go squeak, squeak, squeak.

I am so glad we got him.

Along with 4 other rescue kitties.

quote:

Originally posted by OMCHamlin:

quote:

Originally posted by newtoSig765:
Have you talked to your Vet or breed groups about this? It sounds like there may be some underlying health issue that's bothering her.

Oh dear Lord YES she has health issues!
I have to treat her for:
Spondylosis: Duramaxx, Ultram
Chronic kidney failure: KD Kidney Diet
And just plain old age, she's fifteen years old, and while she is a smaller Collie, the breed itself is a large one, so her time is running. We used to walk for miles, now it's around the block, slowly and with all of the care due an elderly gal like her. And I know, some (many?) of you that would read that might say "Well, it's either time, or past time for her last trip", but I tell you, the criteria that I go by, walk, climb a couple stairs, eat, drink and poop, she can do all, it just takes her a little longer. And she is happy to spend most of her day snoozing, that's true, but she still likes to "mouth" (she doesn't bite) her mistress (Mrs. OMC) when she gets home from work. I believe it is getting near her time, but not yet, and besides, that's my wife's call, we both agree that Layla is her dog. And clearly, she is...
I just wish she did not seem to despise me so.
But I'm rambling...

This happened to me with my Boxer, Shelby.
For 13 years she was "my" dog. I took care of her, played with her, she
was always by my side. The wife and kids liked her, but never gave her the
affection I did.
The last year or so of her life she really didn't want anything to do with
me. Looking back, I know she must have been in a lot of pain. She never wagged her little tail.

Her back knees were so swollen I had to help her up and down the stairs.
I'm torn thinking if we should have put her down sooner, or was I selfish
keeping her longer because I loved her so much.
Anyway, I feel your pain. Hang in there.

Every rescue cat I ever took in seemed grateful.
Hard to describe really, but I just felt they were glad to be with me.
My current rescue cat jumps up in the window when I pull up to my townhouse and then greets me at the door. Every time. Glad to see me!

quote:

Originally posted by OMCHamlin:
Here it is; Layla, the old gal, has decided she loathes my company.

I can't imagine how hard that would be. A few things you might try, if you haven't already:

- Find a special treat or chew that only you give her. Nobody else - just you. If it's a chew, try to hold onto it while she chews, even if you have to ignore her so she's not feeling the pressure of your attention.
- Make sure when you talk to her you use a soft voice. Speak in a higher tone, and faster, when you want to generate excitement.
- Sometimes be in the room with her, but ignore her, even turn your back to her.
- When you do make eye contact with her, "soften" your gaze, give a few slow blinks. I've found this seems to be a somewhat universal calming signal - works with dogs, cats and even budgies!
- See if you can interest her in a hide-and-seek game where she gets a special treat when she finds you.

Those are a few things that might help her warm back up, or at least feel less pressure/discomfort.

Hopefully when anyone wants to get their next pet, they'll go to their local shelter or rescue group. If they don't see what they want there go to the next closest shelter until you do.
Idiot backyard breeders and people that don't spay or neuter their pet and allow them to wander are the real villains in this problem.

A related issue, it's cold, really cold in some parts of the country right now. Please be sure your pet is protected somehow properly if they don't normally live inside.

OMCHamlin try Pill Pockets, they worked well for all 4 of my Pei over the last 20yrs.

My first Pei Fred was just like blossom except for the shaking. He was terrified of everyone except us for the first 12 years of his life. He wouldn't even let my mother pet him for over 3yrs and he was scared of everything new we brought into the house or out of a different room. Sadly he didn't get over his fear of strangers until about 6/8 months before cancer took him. It took over 1 and 1/2 hour of tossing him treats till I could get close enough to grab him (best last evening hunt of my life). He had all the signs of being locked away from any human contact (physically he was in perfect health) during the first year of his life which the vet said was his age when we found him. All of my Pei since have been rescues.

Awesome video. I despise those who mistreat animals...

quote:

Originally posted by parabellum:
This is the kind of thing that makes me want to withdraw from the world and live on a farm catering to traumatized animals. If I could afford it, that's exactly what I would do.

Me too!

SigForum animal rescue?

If the wife and I ever move back to the country, I’ll probably end up with 20+ dogs
With enough room, I’d be hard pressed to not take in any strays we would encounter

The great pool hustler Minnesota Fats was well known for separating suckers from their cash, but he held animals in the highest regard.
Says a lot about the mans true character

http://www.egyptianaaa.org/si-minnesotafats.html

New York pool hustler Rudolf Wanderone, also known as Fats and later as Minnesota Fats after the movie The Hustler portrayed a character by the same name who was strikingly similar to Fats, stopped in Du Quoin, Illinois one evening on his way to hustle pool down south. He had slid on the icy road into mailboxes and wanted to fix his car before traveling on. He met waitress Evelyn Inez and found plenty of gambling action in the area and decided to make the tiny village of Dowell his home. Soon, Evelyn Inez became his wife and pool halls in Southern Illinois were never the same.

A little known fact about Fats was that he loved animals. Reportedly he regularly kept 30 or 40 dogs and cats at his home in Dowell and found homes for hundreds of stray animals. Here's how he tells it in his book, Minnesota Fats, The Bank Shot and Other Great Robberies. Because Fats had a colorful vocabulary, there are editor's interpretation for a few of his phrases that are in parenthesis.

I'm crazy about every living creature, it doesn't matter what it happens to be. I even love insects; in fact, I wouldn't swat a fly or a mosquito for a whole barrel of gold. One time I drove all the way from Mobile, Alabama to Dowell and it was like in the summertime and my car was loaded with a zillion mosquitoes (ed. interpretation: a zillion is a lot more than a billion) but they didn't even bite me. It was unbelievable because if you happened to drive from Mobile to Dowell with a carload of pool hustlers, you would get bit so hard and so often that you would need a malaria vaccine and a new bankroll as well. (ed. interpretation: being bit by a carload of pool hustlers means you lost all your money on foolhardy bets)

Animals surpass humans on all counts. They not only never talk back, but animals appreciate kindness and affection in a way that most humans wouldn't understand to start with. If you can take an animal and tame it and make it next to human by showing it love and tenderness, like the doll with the lion cubs in Detroit, (ed. interpretation: a women with lion cubs) think what you ought to be able to accomplish with a human being who is supposed to have an intellect.

They way I see it, human beings could learn an awful lot from lesser creatures like cats and dogs and even crocodiles. One time a guy gave me a chicken. I didn't even know the fellow, only he knew how crazy I am about animals of all kinds. So this night I was playing cards in Du Quoin and this guy comes up and throws this chicken in the middle of the card table. I took that chicken home with me. It was real cold like in the wintertime and I didn't know what to do with the chicken so I went to this great big dog house in the back yard where there was 30 or 40 dogs and cats all sleeping together. So I threw the chicken in the dog house and went in and told Eva-line the story (ed. note: Eva-line is his nickname for his first wife, Evelyn).

"Rudolf," Eva-line said, "you must be out of your tree. Just because the dogs and cats sleep together, you can't put a chicken in there, too." So I told Eva-line, "Is that so? Well, well see. So we tiptoed out there and peeked in and this chicken was sitting sound asleep on top of this big dogs head. That's on the square." (ed. interpretation: he swears its true)

Now the reason the chicken was accorded immediate acceptance in the dog house was on account of my dogs and cats are accustomed to total kindness and affection and therefore aren't looking to touch off any beef jolts, (ed. interpretation: fights) not even at the drop of a live chicken. Out in my back yard everybody is just one of Gods little creatures. There's no discrimination of any type.

I've got this tremendous big old dog named Spotty and he watches over the rest of 'em, like he was a shepherd. I don't even know what kind of dog he is. He's just short and stocky with a heavy fur and enormous weight, only he don't throw his muscle around out back. He just gets up every morning like he's the top general and the rest of the dogs and cats fall in line like they were privates in the Army and Spotty goes by each one and washes their faces by hitting them a lick with his tongue. Its amazing. The dogs and cats just stand there like a five-year-old waiting for the Mama to come scrub him clean and old Spotty licks every face until he thinks its washed. Then he dismisses the whole outfit for breakfast. Its fantastic beyond compare.

minnesota fats and mohammed ali minnesota fats and johnny carson
Muhammad Ali recognized
Fats as The Greatest at boasting.
Fats hustles Johnny Carson
out of a dollar on national television.
Every one of my dogs and cats lives like the King and Queen of England. When I'm home every night I stop in at the Perfection Club and pick up maybe a 100 or 150 pounds of bones and leftover steaks. Sometimes a patron might leave a whole steak on the plate and Muzz (ed. note: restaurant owner Frank Riggio) drops it in the sack along with the bones. I'm always hustling like that. And when I happen to be on the road, Eva-line drops by to pick up the calories. (ed. interpretation: food)

So now, when all the regulars and the supernumerary strays from the neighbors places are finished, there's always enough left for any new faces that might happen to be in the vicinity. I always put out like two or three times the normal consumption because you never know who might be coming. In fact, hundreds and hundreds of birds wing down to belt out the off-fallings. In a week there might be a million birds eating out there. There're crazy about meat and bone and when they get their fill they fly off chirping like a whole choir of sopranos.

A lot of people think its real fun to kill and torture animals, but I'm funny about that sort of thing. I don't want any animal shot on my property. Like one time in Du Quoin a fella' pulls up to the poolroom and says "Well, go out in the back of my truck and get yourself a turtle. Now I figure the turtle is dead, only when I get to the back of the truck the turtle is alive and kicking, I mean really kicking. I took that turtle down real quick and put him in a box and when I climbed down out of the truck with this enormous turtle this fella' says, "Take him home and kill him, Fatty. Hell make tremendous turtle soup." I told him there was no chance of that turtle getting killed.

So I put the cardboard box on the front seat of the car and drove home, only on the way, the turtle climbed out of the box and I almost tipped the car over trying to get him back in. I told Eva-line I was going to take him over to Big Muddy, which runs into the Mississippi River around Murphysboro, but Eva-line said we should take him down to the branch because it had been raining a lot lately and the water was almost coming over the banks.

The poor turtle looked dry and hungry so I put a little food in the box and me and Eva-line walked down to the branch with him. The water was all brown and muddy and swirling and when that turtle saw that swirling water he went down like a two-year-old. It was a picnic just to watch the way he took to that water. Nothing on earth would have satisfied me more, not a zillion dollars (ed. interpretation: a lot of money!) or even a date with Elizabeth Taylor. Eva-line got a big kick out of it, too. "Hell likely be free forever now, Rudolf," Eva-line said. "Hell follow the branch all the way down and end up in Big Muddy."

I always loved animals, ever since the day my old man won Gans, the goose, at the Swiss Verein outing in New York. We always had a dog or a cat around the house, but keeping a pet caged up in New York is brutal beyond compare. Animals have to be free to roam about, just like humans.

Source: Minnesota Fats, The Bank Shot and Other Great Robberies, with Tom Fox, The World Publishing Company, Cleveland and New York, 1966.

Rudolf Wanderone, a.k.a. Minnesota Fats, died on January 18, 1996 at the age of 83 in Tennessee of congestive heart failure. He was almost as good an entertainer as he was a pool player. No one could touch him in either category. Wanderone also was nicknamed Fatty, triple smart, dean of the green, the sultan of stroke and the bank shot bandit. His epitaph read: Beat everybody living on Earth. Now, St. Peter, rack 'em up. Some say the movie The Hustler is based loosely on Wonderone's life.