Hercules is a Boxer mix on loan through the Foster Dog Program at Newport Animal Shelter. He tested positive for heart worms and was taken off the adoptable list. We’re trying to change that and help him get a loving forever home. When it’s cold, our foster dogs sleep in crates in my heated workshop.
January 27, 2014
We had an incident one morning:
Today Cheyanne went in for her final step in the medication for heart worm treatment: the second injection deep into her back muscles. The vet tech tells me that these injections are not very painful, so the dog is not sedated for each procedure, but the aftermath is. Cheyanne is in enough pain now that they sent some medication for that as well. Not all dogs require that, but Cheyanne is “delicate”. She’s more sensitive to cold than the rest as well.
It’s cold today: 12° this morning, 22° as a high. After spending the day in the intensive care room at the shelter for her procedure and observation, I put her in an old Tee shirt when she came home and needed some leg stretching time. She seemed to appreciate that. She appreciated getting the breakfast she was deprived of this morning even more.
She seemed dazed and disoriented. She spent a long time just sitting on the boardwalk. It is not at all like her to be so still. When I called her to come inside where it’s warm, she turned and went to her dog house instead. “It’s too cold for that sweetie.” I had to carry her inside. I put an extra blanket in her crate for added cushioning on her sore little body. She curled up and went to sleep.
Marie and I decided it would be best to put Cheyanne into intensive care for a couple of days to be sure she was OK. Blondie and Cochise agreed and gave permission for her to sleep in their house for a couple of nights.
Having finished the weekly radio radio program I produce first thing every Monday, I took The Kids on a walk and went past the mailbox to send the program disk out to the radio station. Then we went up to the shop yard for some play time with Cheyanne and Rhonda.
Cochise refused to go through the gate: “I don’t want to get in the middle of their rough-housing.” These girls have not done any rough-housing, not like Blondie and Janet used to do or Cochise and Malachi for that matter. He’s just being bull-headed. Well; he is a bulldog. So I used the leash to tether Cochise outside the wooden gate (where he could watch, but not be involved) and he sat there, ears pinned back and his back turned to the fun, ignoring us.
Blondie and Cheyanne played together nicely. After a bit, Cochise started to whine, “I want to play too … I’m lonely out here.” So I let him in and off the leash. The three of them leisurely chased each other around for a while. Nice gentle play. Rhonda was still in her pen, watching everyone else having fun.
Hello again, Cochise here. You may recall that HairyFace & NiceLady are fostering me while I undergo heartworm treatment. We’ve spent the past month and a half preparing for me to receive these treatments. It has been quite an adjustment for me as I learned to live a civilized life and for them as they prepare to care for me while I undergo the heartworm treatment. I understand it can be rough.
When I arrived here, I started out staying exclusively in the Guest Quarters my People set up for foster dogs: a 10×10 chain-link pen with a cabin style dog house. But I managed to wheedle my way into their hearts and they decided to let me come inside the house with them; on occasion. Because I’m so adorable, these occasional indoor visits have turned into full time. I have one room of my own (they call it a crate) in the house and one in HairyFace’s office. This is partly because it has been so hot, they felt it would be bad for me to be left out in the heat while I’m so sick to start with. And partly because I’m very good at making a pitiful, “I’m seeick” face (see above) that just melts their hearts.
Hello, my name is Cochise. I am an American Bulldog. Well, mostly American Bulldog; I’m not a purebred, but close enough as long as a certificate isn’t important to you. I was picked up by the County Animal Control officer because I was living free and easy on the streets of Newport Tennessee. I had a home once, but… well… maybe I’ll tell you about that another time. For now I want to tell you how a couple of good people rescued me from certain death.
See, when I was brought into the local animal shelter I tested positive for heart worms, that made me ineligible for the national Rolling Rescue program, which would have allowed me to be adopted somewhere that good pets are not so plentiful, and the prospect of local adoption was getting slimmer by the day. The shelter cannot keep dogs forever. I was on death row – with just days to go before it was my turn to take the one-way walk.
