Sharing photos of animals with their own unique stories

For as long as I can remember, I have had a special feeling for most animals, especially horses and dogs. I also adore little kittens. When Gay and I were little girls, we played in the hay loft with the kittens that lived there. Although they were not tame, they were not so wild that they didn't let us hold them. 

My first experience with horses came when my father lifted me up to ride on the sweaty back of Charlie, the farm work horse. Charlie was a terror when he was first hitched up to a plow, and my daddy had his hands full as he tried to keep Charlie calm. The big white horse was known to run away with the plow flying in the air behind him. To keep Charlie in line, Daddy hitched a mule next to the big white horse. Together the two worked well and Charlie did not run away anymore.

One might wonder why a small child would be hoisted up on the back of such an animal, but by late in the afternoon, Charlie was tired and only looking to reaching the barn and his feed. Besides he was being led and no longer hitched to a heavy plow.

When I was older and learned to read, I found every book on horses that was available on the bookmobile or at the school library. The most popular horse book was the one I liked less, Black Beauty. 

Daddy liked dogs and our family always had a dog - that is until the family pet was run over by a car or lost its life someway. I heard a story about a bulldog who was important to our family. I was not born yet when this dog stepped between my brother, Rex, who was a little fellow, and a rattle snake. The dog was bitten and he later died. 

My brothers didn't seem to have the urge to pet and show affection for dogs like Daddy did. To some of them, dogs were livestock, like cows and hogs, that were put on earth for use, but not to love. 

Tiger, the bob tailed cat was Barry's loving, sweet pet.

Gay, on the left, in the middle, Dixie, and on the right is
Glenda. This pretty dog belonged to Aunt Judy. When Dixie died,
Aunt Judy never had another dog. "It hurts too bad when you lose them," she said. 

Ray, my oldest brother, had a small dog he adored in the later years of his life. None of my siblings cared about canines the way Gay and I did. We had dogs to play with when we were little and, although they were never allowed inside the house, we loved Fluffy, Turbo, a black English cocker spaniel given to my sister, June, and even Brit, the shepherd that was bought to drive cattle. Too bad none of my family had a clue about how to train the puppy. 

I vowed to myself that I would someday have my own little dog that would be with me all the time or as much time as possible. When I married a man who loved dogs, who gave me my own little bundle of fur, and I was in Heaven. I raised a miniature black poodle we named Brandy. We had him until he was nineteen years old. He died in his sleep. Losing one of them, no matter how old, is heartbreaking. It is like losing a member of the family.

At this link, you will find photos of some of the animals that touched my life. 

Do you have any stories about your pets, dogs, cats, rabbits, horses, goats, chickens, and domesticated wild animals? We would love for you to share them here on our blog.

My Life with My Animals

When I married, my husband, Barry gave me a miniature black poodle. We named him Brandy. We did not have children and Brandy became the third member of our family. We loved him dearly and enjoyed his playfulness and his outrageous behavior. Even my mother who never let a dog in her house, welcomed Brandy and even fed him buttered biscuits in her kitchen.

Here I am with Brandy, but he was so black Barry could
never get a good picture of him.

One day we went to the dairy barn and brought home a young cat. She was pretty and sweet, but covered in fleas. I almost poisoned her trying to de-flea her, but she survived and eventually brought into our house five kittens. They were born in a hollow tree in our yard on a weekend when we were out of town. To our surprise as soon as we pulled into our driveway and opened the car door, Mama Cat appeared with a kitten in her mouth. She followed us into the house. She headed straight to the guest room and carried her baby under the bed.She made the short trip five times as if she had planned all along that the guest room was where she was supposed to raise her little family.

We kept one of those kittens, a beautiful orange and white cat with a short little nose and long hair. Her name was Queenie. She was a small cat and we had her and her mother spayed so we had no more kittens for a long time.

One of my favorite animals was my horse, Pretty Thing. I got her when she was three years old, but I had been riding her since she was two years old and used on the farm to drive cattle. Our pets live long lives and Pretty Thing outlived all of them. I had to put her down when she was thirty-two years old, one of the saddest days of my life. 

She had been a major part of my life from the time I graduated from college. Pretty Thing was a chestnut with a milky blaze poured down her muzzle. She had three white stockings also. Her ancestry was quarter horse and she had been well trained to drive cattle. If she wanted one of them to move she would reach out and nip the bovine on the back. She could turn on a dime and I had to learn to sit tight and not fall off. The only time I had a bad fall from her back was when she fell on slippery wet leaves and my foot was caught under her weight. 

Brandy lived to be 19 years old. Losing him was not unexpected, but I grieved over him for months. I could not talk about him without crying. We had gotten our first Samoyed just before Brandy died. The new pup was named Nicki. In the book Paws, Claws, Hooves, Feathers and Fins; Family Pets and God's Other Creatures I write about Nicki and the day he was stolen from our farm. A Sammy puppy is the cutest and prettiest little thing in this world. A solid white furry mass of cute. You can see the second Samoyed puppy, Kodi, in the book. Kodi is also the gorgeous dog on the front of our book.

To see some photos of animals Barry and I loved and some I have wanted for my own, visit this page.

Tiger is Sick - To the Vet We Go

I awoke today to find little puddles of bright blood in several rooms of my house and even in my bathtub. Poor Tiger, my cat, has something really wrong with her and, since it was a Sunday, I could not reach a vet. 

I called Hugs and Smooches. Patty, my petsitter loves cats and knows everything about them She diagnosed a kidney infection or a bladder problem. I said I agreed with her since Tiger was squatting and trying but could not urinate. She was doing her best to let me know that she was in trouble, but I couldn't help her. I felt so sorry for her.

Patty said I should try to get her to drink plenty of fluids. I added a little colloidal silver to her water and gave her broth as well. She did drink often all afternoon.

She didn't lose her appetite. I suppose that is good. I couldn't get my hands on an antibiotic, but I called my pharmacist and asked if there was an over the counter medicine that would help the symptoms of a urinary tract infection. He said yes. Luckily it comes in tablets so I began giving Tiger half a dose every four hours. It evidently helped her pain. She rests well until time for another dose. 

I've not seen any blood today, but she and I are heading out early in the morning to see the vet. She gets car sick, however I have no choice. I don't think he will prescribe unless I bring her in, and I want to know exactly what is wrong with my little furry friend.  

I am afraid it is going to be a long night for both of us. 

Snow fell last night and covered our woods here in the mountains of NC. I snuggled under my covers with Tiger the cat on her blanket close by. On the floor in their little beds, Smokie and Sunny, who are visiting me this week, curled up like furry balls.



Smokie and Sunny sleeping in their little beds



Tiger on her blanket


I am one who seldom gets cold. I like cool weather and usually, unless the wind is blowing, I don't wear a coat even in winter. But when the high temperature is in the twenties and the low is way, way low, yes, even I get cold.

Life is slow and this is the time to stay indoors and clean out closets, de-clutter our lives before warm weather sets us in gear again to begin our activities. I talked to a friend today who is doing just that. She said she was drowning in paper. Don't we all know that feeling? Since computers came into our lives, we are using more paper and collecting more paper than ever before. Why is that when our goals are always to "go paperless?"

On Sunday of this week, a friend, Rebecca, is coming to visit for a while. She is going to help me get organized and de-cluttered. She has a very big job ahead of her, and she might throw up her hands and say, "enough" after a week.

She plans to start her own business, helping people organize their closets, their offices, and their homes. She can practice on me.

Dog Lover or Cat Lover? Do You Love Both?

Are you a dog or cat lover? Do you love both? Most people seem to be either one or the other. We have had cats and dogs throughout the years of our marriage.

Our present cat, Tiger, a Manx cat

In our early marriage years, we got our first cat when we found mice in the house. After a few failed rat traps, a smelly, smelly incident when a mouse died in the innards of the sofa, we gave in and found us a pretty kitty at the dairy barn where cats multiplied faster than the rats and kept the barn yard free of vermin.

The little tabby, long-haired with a snub nose like a Persian, reminded me of a fancy feline I had seen in a magazine. She had never been handled by human hands, but she sat quietly in my lap as we drove the short distance home. In that short time I found my arms crawling with fleas. I hate fleas! I detest fleas! And here I was bringing fleas to my house.

Barry brought the flea powder, and I dusted it over the cat’s coat, rubbing it into and under her fur. She took that treatment for only a few minutes, and then she scrambled out of my grasp. She ran a short way and stopped. She began licking her coat and soon bubbles frothed from her mouth.

“Oh, God,” I yelled to Barry. “I’ve poisoned her.”

The flea powder was meant for a dog, not a cat. I panicked. What was I to do? I filled a bucket with water from the outside hose, it was cold, and plunged the foaming cat into its depths. She screeched and all four paws extended claws that climbed my bare arms. With blood running in the water, I let her fly.

“She’s gone back to the barn,” I said, disappointed. She had been given a rude and frightening welcome to our house.
But a short time later, I saw her curled on the grass out front as the sun dried and warmed her coat. I was a big fan of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s so I named our new family member  - Cat - like the stray she had in the movie.

Cat gave us a second chance and I’m glad she did. She birthed five kittens before we were aware we needed to spay her. We kept one of her litter and the mother and daughter, Queenie, lived long lives at our house.
Are you a cat person or a dog person? Why do you prefer one over the other?

Cats and Dogs with Unusual Names

Tiger, the bob-tailed cat loves Barry's lap. She is the most loving cat we've ever owned. She takes to strangers and before they know it, she is all over them.

We once had a cat named Diesel. He was a big black tom cat who adored Barry. And well he should.

My friend Sue found him abandoned in her yard and was afraid her big cat would harm him. She brought him to us out on the farm where she knew he would have a good life. But my new puppy, Nicki, frightened the kitten, and he ran under the freezer to hide.

There he stayed until Barry came home in the evening and rescued him. I had been scared to death the kitten would get into the fan or moter of the freezer and be killed.

Anyway, from that day on, Diesel, whose purring was as loud as the engine of a Mercedes, therefore his name, came to my husband as soon as he walked in the door, slept in his lap and followed him when he went outside.

We had owned a couple of cats before Diesel came to us. The first one we rescued from the dairy barn where she and many other feral cats lived. I was a huge fan of Breakfast at Tiffanys, and I named the pretty calico after Audrey Hepburn's stray. I called her Cat.

When Cat surprised us with her first litter, she became Mama Cat.



We found homes for all of her babies except the little orange one with the snubbed nose who would not stay on the floor with the others. She somehow knew she was royalty. Most of the time she perched on a wicker stool like a queen on a throne. I named her Queenie.

Queenie never grew very large. She overcame a gunshot wound that severed one front leg. A fine veterinarian reattached the limb. We were amazed when she learned to use the litter box, her leg in a cast. Queenie lived a long life. Mama Cat also lived to a ripe old age. Both cats were spayed.

Living with us now is Tiger, the bob-tailed cat from south Georgia. She had been named before she came to us.



At the link below, I enjoyed reading the ten most popular names of Dogs and Cats and also the most unusual names. Some are FUNNY.

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/28540800/?pg=7#TDY_Pets_TopNames



I wonder if any of you have had dogs or cats with unusual names. If so, we'd enjoy hearing about them. Leave a comment or e-mail me, writerlady21@yahoo.com I'd love to hear about your pets' names.

Passionate About Animals

I often tell my students to write about their passions. I have many passions, but one that began when I was a child, is still raging strong in me today.

I love dogs. I loved my cats when I had a couple down on the farm. I care more for the bog-tail cat named Tiger that was first Charlie's cat until Charlie moved to the swanky retirement center in Alpharetta and Tiger couldn't go with him. Tiger is the cutest and sweetest cat we have ever owned.

Yes, I enjoy having a cat,

but from the time I was little and my beloved dog, Fluffy, was bitten by a "mad" dog, I have always felt the need to love and care for dogs. They need protection from other dogs, from people who drive crazy and hit animals, and they need protection from animal control and the gas chamber.

Sometimes they need protection from loving masters who want them to wear the master's college colors.

Rocky was an abandoned puppy, about six months old when we found him while walking at the Chatuge Dam in Clay County. I did not want a dog. My Samoyed, Kodi, had died only a month before. But My Good Man wanted him and he brought him home.
I said we could keep the dog until we found his owner or found a good home for him.

"He is not my type of dog," I said firmly putting my foot down. I was not going to have this mixed breed, non-descript dog, even though he was sweet and loving and liked to sit on the deck with Barry - each in his own rocker.

I wanted a lap dog - a small lap dog I could cuddle. Rocky must have heard me say that. Before I knew it he was jumping into my lap. He won me over before he'd been there a week. That was about ten years ago.

Rocky graduated from sitting in a rocker on the porch to sleeping with his head on the pillow on our bed. You can see he captivated our hearts. With Barry's illness, I insist now that Rocky sleep in one of his own beds and stay out of the bedroom.

Rock is not a happy camper, even though he got a brand new bed for Christmas, he gives me this look at night when we go on and leave him to sleep alone.

I know we have to be firm, and it won't hurt him to sleep in his own bed. He is only a dog, after all, but he is more than a dog to us. He is our boy in dog's clothing. and he wants to be with us all the time.

Loving Rocky has created a huge passion to support spay and neuter of companion pets. So many dogs, puppies, cats and kittens are drowned in the river, left in dumpsters, dropped beside the road where they are killed in traffic, and even bludgeoned to death, just because their owners decided they didn't want them. And they often sit at the shelter, lonely and begging for someone to take them home. They love as only an abandoned dog will.

Rocky is our first rescue, but we will get another shelter or rescued dog. Maybe because he appreciates us having saved his life, he is the best, most well- mannered dog anyone could ask for. If you plan to get a dog, find a good shelter pet. All he wants to do is love you forever. At Valley River Shelter in Murphy, NC they have the cutest and best cared for pets anyone can find. In today's newspaper a toy poodle was up for adoption. He is about 8 years old and was turned in by owner. I wish I could take them all, but we want Rocky and Tiger to have happy homes and honestly, I don't think we could manage another animal. We give all our love to Tiger and to Rocky, and they give us their love in return.

On the sidebar, you can click on Help Dog and Cats, and you can vote to help VRHS win funds that will help them save more animals.

Debbie's "retarded" Cat is cured

My friend Debbie told me an amazing story about her cat. Debbie rescued a cat that was about to be euthanized because it was "retarded." The cat was not adoptable, but kind-hearted Debbie, who would save all the animals in the world if she could, took the unwanted kitty into her home.

Debbie carefully chose cat litter and bought a covered litter box. Right away Debbie noticed the poor cat's problem. It would pass out and fall down. At times the cat would become unconscious and fall from high places, hitting the floor with a hard thump.

With the cat's history, Debbie thought this could be what had caused the "brain damage" -- the reason the cat was said to be retarded.

Luckily for this little kitty, Debbie did some research and discovered the litter she was using was poisoning the cat. First the litter with fragrance and then the second one, the clay, caused the cat's fainting spells.

The litter was replaced with a natural pine product, and within days the cat was fine. No more passing out. "He does have a brain and now he is smart," Debbie told me on the phone.

If she had not investigated and been persistent, the cat would probably have ended up being euthanized.

Debbie is one who has learned the hard way about chemicals and products we use that are harmful to people and pets. She owns a cleaning business and has her own problems with chemical sensitivity. No longer can she use bleach for cleaning, and she can no longer use products with fragrance on her person or in her house. In her fifties now, the products she has used all these years have damaged her with the harmful chemical fumes she breathed. She believes that anyone who cleans with the popular brands on the shelves will eventually develop the same sensitivities. Debbie has searched far and wide for safe products. I appreciate her suggestions for clean, green products available locally and by mail-order.

Like that poor cat, when chemically sensitive people are overcome with harmful fumes that shut off the oxygen to their bodies, their brains don't work properly. We can't think when we can't breathe. One day we all may be presumed "retarded" like Debbie's cat.

Tiger, the bob-tailed cat manages to make herself comfortable

This lazy mut lying in one of his beds, is Rocky, ten years old now. He sleeps more than he used to, but so do I and so does Barry. None of us are as physically active as we once were. Rocky and I need to go on a diet and get more exercise.

This lovable handsome fellow came into our lives one day when we were more mobile, when we used to walk at the Chatuge dam two or three times a week. Rock was just a pup and someone had left him beside the road. We had put down our beloved Samoyd, Kodi, on Christmas day in 1998, and I was in no hurry to get a another pet. But before that day was over, Barry brought the pup home and in no time he had fallen in love with the sweet animal. I insisted we make every effort to find the owner just in case they wanted him back. Besides, I told Barry, this is not my kind of dog. I want a small lap dog if I ever get another.

I laugh now because I just didn't know what I wanted. A higher power sent this little brown and white rotweiler/terrier pup to us on that cold day in February in 1999 while I was still broken-hearted over my loss of Kodi. And I tried to harden my heart against him, hoping to find a good home for him.

But in a short time, he was jumping up on my lap and giving me big kisses. At 25 pounds then, he was still too big for a lap dog. Like a happy kid, Barry played with Rocky, walked Rocky and soon they became inseparable. How could I resist a pet that loved us the way Rocky did? Now he is as dear to me as any dog we've ever owned and he makes me smile all the time. Especially when he plays with Tiger, the bob-tailed cat who joined our household last December.

Their shenanigans are hilarious. Who would have ever thought a grown dog and cat would come to love each other in such a short time? Of course both have been "fixed" as we are strong supporters of spay and neuter and I hope those who live in our area will take part in the Big Fix fundraiser here in Hayesville on Saturday at the Church of the Good Shepherd. We want to raise money to help those who cannot afford the cost, to get their dogs and cats altered so we won't have more unwanted puppies and kittens. That is such an important part of owning pets.

I did not seek these two animals but they both found us it seems. We enjoy them every single day. Like two sunbeams sent to brighten our days, Rocky and Tiger cheer us up and make us laugh. And all we have to do is feed, water and love them.