Anorexia or Pickiness?

Emily is being needy lap-puppy, refusing to eat her nice Orijen puppy food at meal time, and insisting she clamber up on me to have toast with apricot jam, too. Silly puppy!

I have to trick her into eating with the Kong. Wow, food slot machine! Gotta have that!

[mistake] So the Elfstedentocht wasn't on Jan/8. It must have been some other natural ice marathon, or other.

[good news] I keep tabs on dierenasiels, to see who's out there. Iggy Pudd, the Shiba mill rescue that I wasn't allowed to adopt, has finally found a suitable family. Yay!

Tree is Late this year

But finally we got around to setting it up. And M. and I are NOT crazy! We DID have colored lights (stashed away in the box with the tree).

Most folks say they like a fresh tree, but for our first tree, as a couple, M. and I are quite tingly over the little plastic tree we got together. Barely 3 feet, sort of feels like our own Charlie Brown Christmas tree, with the right amount of silly and cute and homebodyness, instead of wholesome tasteful pine scent goodness.

*
On the doggy front, adopting from a shelter has turned out as a non-possibility, *sigh sigh* because of M.'s (partial and undefined) allergy. I sort of got kicked around verbally by rescue groups for even wanting to meet the dog. (After we planned ahead, and researched, and alerted everyone involved, and were invited to do so, some unconcerned parties would forget all the previous steps, and harangue me for "daring" to want a shelter dog.)

After being burned several times, M. and I decided that they were most certainly doing good work, but had probably ended up strongly disliking people, as a result of their good work.

*

Am looking at our cute little tree and thinking good, un-Grinchly thoughts. ;-)

Names

Sometimes my parents name their dogs after Star Wars characters: Wicky (after the ewok) & Yoda. I think there was a puppy named Boba Fett once, but I'm not sure.

Dukgoo, after their mountain. Bbina, after... er... she's just really sweet.

Our puppy was going to be Martha, after M. and his brother's only childhood pet, Martha the hamster, who had been named after Martha Washington. (go figure)

Then, Martha the Maltese, didn't sound right.

We were standing in front of our books, to see what girl names were easy to call (1-2 syllables) and not "Sweetie CutiePie Nookems." (which we'll probably call her anyway)

M. thinks Emily is from Emily Dickinson or Emily Bronte. Actually, I got it off Emily Byrd Starr from the L.M. Montgomery books. It was standing at eye-level, next to Perdido Street Station (nope) and Fire and Hemlock (Polly, name of my last puppy). So, Emily of New Moon, it is.

Er. And Captain Janeway from Star Trek Voyager.

Yup, good ol' Emily Janeway Puppy.

Good and Bad

But maybe good?

Good: I want to revise the first draft more than I'd wanted to write it. Sort of jumping out of bed in the middle of the night, am impatient sitting through dinner, kind of WANT.

Bad: I think I'm coming down with a bad cold, the yucky head cold + fever kind.

Bad: I think the shelter won't let us bring Iggy Pudd home, as we have no other dog already to show him the doggy ropes.

(I disagree--maybe he needs some quiet top-dog down time, but hey, they're the experts)

Good: uh... I want to fix my book instead of ditch it? er...

Love and Hives

Second trip to the animal shelter, to see if my dog (hee hee) remembered me, and to check whether M. was allergic to him.

Unfortunately, before we could even ask to take him out, the volunteer worker for the day said, "NO, we can only send him to a home with another dog. We have other dogs you can adopt?"

*sigh*

The answer seems to change with which time of day and which volunteer worker we talk to. The other one on Monday really wanted to send him with us, despite that "tag" on his file.

So, we hung around, chatting with her about other options, waiting for the dogs to come back from their walk. It is a pretty nice shelter, no-kill, permanent boarding for these guys. If he had to be left for a long time without his own home, then, this would be the place (I tell myself firmly.)

But worst case scenario. M., from the fur and smell and dander of EVERY ANIMAL that went through that small, unventilated office, got a furiously quick allergic reaction--hives, itchy eyes, blasting headache. Poor sweetie tried not to tell me for a while, but couldn't hold out longer, and so we stayed outside.

It didn't go away. Poor M was suffering so bad. :-( We said we'll be back again, and had to leave.
On the road home, we ran into "Inu" and his chums, on a walk.

OH. OH. He recognized me! And not as the scary person who dropped his leash. Or maybe yeah, that one. But he started pulling and tugging towards me, and kept turning to look back as the volunteer walker led him off. Oh... We had to say goodbye on the road, but oh, things were looking up.

The funniest part of the day, though, was how the friendly cat from Monday, DISSED US. Got up and turned his back on us, right in the office. So Cat-ty. :-D

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

For the last eight months, I've been wallowing in the online moat of the Jindo Dog Rescue world. Living so far away from home, and realizing what a state they're in, in the US, made me want to help.

I sign up to the mailing list, look around if I can bring home help, correspond with a couple of the members. They seem helpful, kind, DOG RESCUE PEOPLE. Another of the group is a bit stompy, jumps all over some members, and is pushy, but hey, I figure that's how you get when you're faced with an impossible situation. ( though, when one woman worried about her family and her dog not getting along, this person did attack her viciously and personally about being a whiny Asian woman who gives the rest of "us" a bad name. Whoa)

Her tagline is: "now is not the time for me to leave." *roll eyes*

Now, I know every time I have something big to do, I get caught up in wanting to do something for other projects. FOR FREE. This is a stupid habit of mine. I got into trouble with this in Uni, when overwhelmingly positive about the world, I took on mentorships and writing workshops. Because I felt like being a part of the WORLD and HELPING. (Hold the tomatoes. Pollyanna wises up, though quickly forgets)

So, I jump in again. Blind and grinning. Seeing that this person's low-traffic dog information site is going down, I offer free bandwidth from the uni. She says, no, she's moving to another site. And we talk about the translation of a Jindo book she's meant to do for a while, but was prohibited because of the cost of getting someone to translate.

Hey! This is something I can help with! I know the translation market! I'm GOOD at this in my sleep! I'm overqualified! My CV scares people with the shiny. People BEG me to do this. (Okay, ask nicely, and with lots of flattery)

So, excitedly, I offer to do a part of it. Because it would help the Jindo Dog community.

Nothing. Nada. Not a "no, thanks," no brush-off. Just a snub. A nothing complete drop of pleasantries ignore. Because, obviously, I am a scam.

Yes. Moral of the Day: Don't offer to help out of the blue because you think a good cause needs help. You'll get suspected as a weird scam artist (I figure), and they'll diss you. Why shouldn't they? I just liked Jindo dogs. I think they're misunderstood, and misrepresented outside the country, and I wanted to do something. Looking back, I guess I was naive.

And I have to remember, whatever good I want to do when I feel an Outburst of Generous, stuff it. Just shut up and donate.

And remember Kirk Cameron. When you think you're at the top of your field, prematurely, arrogantly, (Hello, Tiger Beat!) and look around for more "MEANINGFUL" work to fill your life, you botch your fledgling talents and end up doing weird Christian movies (Left Behind, anyone?).

Dogs Run From Me in Terror

... or how I visited an animal shelter and scared the shit out of a poor rescue.

I called the dierenasiel and visited today. The people there were very kind and friendly.
Their concern was that Inu (the temporary name for the boy) was more comfortable with dogs, and would feel at home living with other dogs for now.

As I waited, playing with a very friendly cat (Oh, my fickle heart wanted him too) , Inu was brought out.

He is a good-looking boy, very foxy. Red-gold, and with a sharp but gentle face. A bit skinny, but not malnourished in any way. Well formed with a nice coat and tail. He was quite lovely.

I had read up on all the things I should look out for in a "mill rescue." And was bracing myself.

But Inu was much more adjusted to the world, in such a short time, than I had expected. He liked the shelter workers, and already trusted them, and let them handle him and touch him. He would walk up to them and be friendly. He walked on a leash comfortably. He didn't accept food from me, but this was only the first meeting.

I was a complete stranger to him, so of course he was aloof. I think someone who has Shibas would have put him better at ease. It had been such a long time since I lived with a dog.

He was shy, but gentle. He was afraid, but he tried. He was scared of fences and doors opening.

We even went on a walk. I was surprised the shelter people let me do this, but they were very confident and positive, which may be the kind of energy he needs (in retrospect, I might have been too soft for him).

I was very clumsy, but he didn't pull away too much. Still, he was giving me a wide berth so I tried to walk as fast as he was going, so he wouldn't be in the position of "pulling away" from me constantly. He was fine with that. He looked like a little red fox burrowing in the grass. We passed a woman on a bicycle, a man on a bicycle, a woman with a large dog, a woman jogger, and a car. He was fine with all of these.

Then, I was careless (butterfingers!!!) and dropped the leash. It was one of those retractable things with two buttons, and I was fumbling with them trying to shorten it, when, I DROPPED IT.

OH MY GOD. He ran. He ran for dear life, panicked. He ran from me for about 30-50 meters. I shouldn't have RUN after him. This frightened him more.

I was standing there in the middle of a road that was rolling over with mist, thinking, "CRAP. What am I going to do? I lost the shelter dog. What if he runs away? What if there's A CAR coming around the bend??!!"

[insert mini-heartattack here]

But then I stopped, and walked slowly, talking to him, and he stood still, looking over his shoulder at me, with the barest bit of whites in his eyes. TERRIFIED. But he didn't run. Finally, I was 1 meter within his circle, and I stepped on the leash.

In all this time, he never showed his teeth or try to bite or growl. He has the sweetest temper. Scared, but very gentle. As I reached him after our chase, he was out of breath, and also breathing hard from stress, I think, but I risked putting my arms around him when a car passed by so he wouldn't bolt.

He was heaving, and anxious to get away from me ('I can't get rid of this giant fright!'), so I ended up jogging to match his pace, so he wouldn't be fighting me all the way, hoping he could work off the anxiety.

I was worried my clumsiness gave him the more frightening day. But yes, that was another white hair, just a few days after my birthday.

M and I will visit again on Friday to see if he 1) remembers me 2) and doesn't remember how I messed up and 3) see if M gets along with him and 4) isn't allergic (the second biggest concern).


The worst of it was, how frightened he was of me, and how he ran away for dear life. Poor sweetie. But I had to realize again, how inept I am with dogs. And how, I'm afraid I won't be brave enough to give this boy a good home, where his constantly fleeing from me won't be a nail in my heart every day. I just don't know.

Try Shelters, then try again

After months of reading up, and contacting people, and collecting loads of information, and most of all, getting excited about rescuing a shelter dog -- because you should seriously consider that option first -- we were herded toward the other route of finding a family with puppies.

After getting to know the ropes, when I let it known that M. is allergic to "certain" animals and we're trying to be careful, sadly we got kicked around a bit. People are people, even good-hearted animal rescues, and we've gotten harangued and told off for even "daring to offer a dog a home" in our circumstances.

Visiting a shelter became a non-option. We tried. The allergy bomb from fifty+ cats and dogs, their fur and dander combined was instant, and pretty painful.

Worse is when you've fallen for the dog after several visits. My sweet Iggy Pudd. He was a mill rescue, and I felt the shelter wanted to keep him safe with them forever. (we got denied several times, but because they cared)

The shelter insisted he needed another happy dog at home before they would consider it. He's a Shiba Inu, and I figured the breed's independence and need for human-bonding over time would work, but the shelter thought not.