 Sisters by Cathy A. Blanc
“C’mon Sissy, let’s play....our time is running out.” The hot summer months are perfect for enjoying a swim with loved ones. Unlikely sisters Lexie, a female standard-size Yorkshire Terrier, and Tiny Turd (“Tiny”), a Western Box Turtle, can often be found swimming together in their blow-up swimming pool or wandering the yard. Everyone knows when these joyous events take place because Lexie barks the entire time. Certainly, the turtle is deaf by now.
The two are inseparable. Okay, mainly because Tiny can’t run that fast and Lexie adores her sister and semi-stalks her. However, when Tiny is out on her own she is constantly scanning the horizon, one inch from the ground to locate her sister. Apparently the love is returned.
It all started eight years ago when Lexie, who was adopted from the Arizona Humane Society, discovered the turtles at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Although there are box turtles and tortoises wandering the specially created turtle habitat, Lexie selected one of the box turtles to devote her attention to. Poor turtle. Lexie’s love of turtles and dedication to the one box turtle continued through the years, much to their chagrine.
Then “it” happened. Lexie was given a sister and she was a box turtle...life couldn’t get any better! Unfortunately for Tiny, who was also a “rescue” animal, she was thought to be a water turtle for the first year of her life. This explains why she won first prize in the turtle swimming competition. Box turtles don’t swim.
Tiny was the size of a quarter when she and Lexie met. I often thought I was losing my mind because I would barricade Tiny so that I could go about my business and the next thing I knew she was out wandering the house. Finally, I discovered that Tiny’s cohort in crime was springing her free from the barricades by picking her up in her mouth and “freeing” her. Lexie still frees Tiny, who is now several inches in diameter, from the cage in the yard by digging around the perimeter until Tiny can pass underneath. The two work together beautifully.
The sisters enjoy the hot summer months the most. They are often found swimming in their pool or wandering the yard. Okay, Tiny wanders the yard and tries to hide under bushes while Lexie stalks her and stands over her. I often think of the beagle in Peanuts, where he sits on his doghouse and pretends to be a vulture. That would be Lexie! All I have to do is mention that the “girls” are going to swim on a given day and Lexie begins to bark and carry on until I drop everything and take them outside to swim, just so I can hear myself think! (As I am writing this, Lexie is camped out by Tiny’s tank waiting for the swimming outing.) Tiny is always up for the swim and if several days in a row pass without a swimming outing, Tiny stomps around her tank peering out, trying to get my attention.
Once in the pool, Tiny enjoys the wavelike motions of the pool. Lexie’s constant pawing at the water around Tiny allows Tiny to bob along the surface without much effort. They can spend an hour at a time swimming together and enjoying the great summer weather.
But the time is running out. Summer is almost over and Tiny will go into partial hibernation. Gone will be the lazy days of the sisters floating around in the pool, laying in the summer sun and enjoying each other’s company. Although the pool will be put away until next spring, I will have the photos and memories of the outings to make me smile for a very long time.
Copyright © 2007.
|
|
 Maddie by Maddie with help from Pam
When a human acquaintance suggested I enter this contest, I thought that was very laughable. After all, I am an elegant Standard Poodle. As a fine representative of my breed, words such as sophisticated, gorgeous, intelligent, gentle and graceful have described me but never laughable! Poodles accept life as a responsibility not a frolic. Oh we do have a sense of humor though which makes it easier to tolerate some of the indiscretions we observe in other breeds. I do hope the humans reading this will find the following story “laughable.”
Very close friends of mine have assisted Foothills Animal Rescue frequently by welcoming homeless cats into their home. Cats have always fascinated me and therefore I take part in the “rescue effort.” During the past several years, my friends have housed nearly 100 cats. Each one is special but my favorite rescue was a litter of 5 day old kittens. This really aroused the motherly instincts in me. Although my ability to help was limited, the kittens and I became very close. Quickly the kittens were anticipating my visits and would come to the baby gate and my work would begin. My first duty was to take a count and rapid assessment of the litter. Once general well being was established, it was time for individual baths. My gentle but huge tongue made short work of this. After bath time, the kittens always enjoyed a little playtime with my long ears and “socks.” The 6 weeks I had my kittens was a meaningful time for me. Fortunately my friends kept one of the kittens so our relationship has continued.
I don’t want you to think that a finely bred lady such as myself has no fun in life. Charity work is rewarding but even an elegant Poodle needs some real recreation. My interests of course are varied. On lovely afternoons I enjoy shopping at Kierland or the Biltmore. Perhaps you have seen me. Normally I am surrounded by a crowd of children who seem to find me extremely interesting. It would be impossible to count the number of superlatives I hear during an afternoon.
If it’s physical activity I yearn for, there is nothing like a backyard lizard hunt. However, my favorite activity is spotting motorcycles while being driven around Scottsdale. This is when I really let my hair down. From the back seat I can spot a good motorcycle from a mile away. As it nears, I get into my attack stance. The closer it comes, the more my tail wags. Finally the motorcycle zooms by and with a few ferocious barks, disappears. No concern though. I know another one is out there somewhere.
As you can tell, I have no reason to complain about my life. Through my “charity” work with Foothills Animal Rescue, I know others aren’t as fortunate. For that reason I enter this contest and make a donation to them.
Copyright © 2007.
|
|
 No Guarantees by Claudia Cattell
It was a snowy cold day and the roads were frozen, making driving very dangerous. But, I just had to see the young litter of Yorkie pups that were ready for sale, no matter the weather.
After arriving at the destination and with formalities over, I noticed a floor lamp beaming its rays into a small box. A frail bark or two came from the box. “Is there a pup in there?” I asked. “Yes” replied the breeder, but she’s not for sale. I can’t guarantee her life, she’s too small.” I only weighed 4 pounds at birth and there were no guarantees on my life either. So, I figured we had something in common right from the jump-start. I named her Mini.
In her 8th month of life, Mini stood at the top of the stairs barking at the noise downstairs. She lost her footing and fell backwards, rolling down 12 steps. Finally landing at the bottom, Mini hit her head leaving her slightly unconscious. In minutes, Mini snapped to her feet and fully recovered as if nothing had happened. I stood there in astonishment. Mini fully recovered.
A year later, Mini wiggled from underneath the backyard fence when I wasn’t looking and was hit by a car. I heard her bark and when I realize what had happened, I rushed her to the emergency veterinarian clinic where they took her right away. X-rays showed that she only bruised her right lung with no other injuries. Mini fully recovered.
Three years later, she bit into and old electrical cord while standing in a small puddle of water, sending an electrical shock through her body. A small portion of the tongue burned and for the rest of Mini’s life it fell to the right side of her mouth. It gave Mini that ready-to-eat look! She was rushed to the emergency clinic again, treated and released. Mini fully recovered.
During a full renovation of an old house, Mini ate paint chips that gave her lead poisoning. She was treated with a series of shots over a course of a week. Mini fully recovered.
Four years later, Mini was enjoying the
Arizona
sunshine when she slipped into the pool. I dove into the chilly water and rescued my totally submerged canine. I wrapped her in a towel as she coughed up water. I placed her gently down and she shook off the remaining water. Mini fully recovered.
The years passed and Mini was getting up there in age. One afternoon, I called her several times for dinner, but, no Mini. So I went looking for her. I found her lying in her bed, peacefully sleeping. “Mini, come on, let’s eat.” She didn’t move. My eyes swelled with tears when I thought that her life had come to an end. I knelt along side her bed and gently stroked her back. I sat there for several minutes just looking at my sweet pup thinking of the fulfilled life she had. I always feared this day and here it was. My tears flowed like running water. I blew my nose so hard and loud that I startled Mini from a deep sleep! Mini was still alive!
She was 17 years old and just hard of hearing!
In late summer of the next year, that “so called” frail pup with “no guarantees” on her life died. Mini was 18 years old and now has fully recovered to Heaven.
Copyright © 2007.
|
|
 Springtime for Savannah by Savannah and Kathay Howard
One spring day, when my mom and I were outside, I was running around, not paying attention to what she was saying as usual, when I came across two dogs, just hanging out in the desert. Well I’m a very friendly.... or I mean... fearless, type of dog, so I just ran right up to them to see what they were up to. They were the rudest and most unfriendly animals I had ever met. One had the nerve to bite me on the nose and the other bit me on the leg. They didn’t hurt me but really scared the daylights out of me. I couldn’t help it and let out a blood-curtailing scream just as my mom was running up to find me. My mom always told me to stay away from coyotes but I figured, hey, what does she know, if I can hunt lions, why should I be afraid of some coyotes. Now I know what she was talking about! After that, I couldn’t stop shaking for hours. I don’t care if I ever meet one of those things again.
I’m sure that now my mom probably doubts my pedigree as a Ridgeback and a lion hunter. I’ve had some self doubt also. Since then I’ve really been trying to live up to my pedigree. I’ve been practicing by growling at people. Since I have a scary ridge of hair on my back, I can really fool some people. Especially people I don’t know. That makes me feel good! The only problem is that I usually only get to see people I know and I just can’t stop my tail from wagging at the same time, I’m so happy to see them. I know....not very convincing. To tell the truth, I think I have a problem. Some people wear their heart on their sleeve; I wear my heart on my tail. I wag my tail all the time; I can’t stop it, even while I’m growling at strangers.
To top it all off, when some friends of my parents were visiting, I ran out to greet them and maybe scared them with a little growl, when I happened to look to my right. Standing right there against the wall was a coyote! I was so freaked out; I jumped about 2 feet in the air. I found out later that someone had put a fake coyote out there. That was soooo...embarrassing. Everyone saw me and couldn’t stop laughing. Now every time I go out our front gate, I check to the right. I may be young, but there’re not going to fool me like that again.
Copyright © 2007.
|
|
 Sierra by Jennifer Lugviel
Our dog, Sierra, came into our lives in February, 1993. We lived in Cottonwood, Arizona at the time and I worked in a hair salon as a stylist. While at work one day, a lady was in having her nails done and she asked if anyone was interested in a puppy. We had a dog already, but “Dagwood” (a golden retriever mix) was very old, and showing sighs of failing so we knew he wouldn’t be with us much longer. My husband and I decided to “check out” the puppies the lady talked of at the salon, thinking that when Dagwood left us, we wouldn’t be as sad having a puppy around to focus our energy on. Needless to say, when we went to look at the litter of puppies, who were wandering around outside in the cold, wet mud that was their yard, we couldn’t resist taking home a little girl who wandered up and immediately started chewing on my husband's shoe laces.
Three months after bringing Sierra home, Dagwood passed away. He was fourteen years old. Having Sierra did make the transition easier because she was/is such a good dog. Our son, Ian was four years old when we got her and with all the tugging, pulling, and pinching he put her through, she never once growled at him or showed a mean spirit - ever.
In April of 1994, Ian was turning five years old (Sierra was one year old), so I had baked 26 cupcakes to take to his Kindergarten class for his birthday. I baked them the night before and had left them on a cookie sheet, on the countertop in the kitchen to cool, and was going to frost them the next morning before dropping them off to the teacher for the kids in Ian’s class to enjoy. The next morning my husband, who was always the first up, had a ritual of turning on the shower water to let it heat up before going into the kitchen to make coffee. All of a sudden, I heard him yell SIERRA at the top of his lungs! The next thing I hear is the shower curtain rustling! I knew I had better get up to see what the commotion was about!!!
During the night while we were sound asleep, Sierra had eaten 23 of 26 cupcakes, paper and all, without making a sound. To do this, she had to have stood on her back legs to reach the cupcakes and managed to do this without knocking the cookie sheet to the floor! There was not a crumb to be found anywhere. When my husband, Jed, yelled here name, she knew she was in trouble and ran from the kitchen area, down the hallway, through the master bedroom, and into the shower which Jed had turned on! I was up by now and went to investigate the situation. When I looked in the shower, there was Sierra, soaking wet, shaking like a leaf, water spraying down on her! She was too afraid to come out on her own. We had to physically pick her up to get her out of the shower! Amazingly, she never got ill from eating 23 chocolate cupcakes!!!!
This funny story is one we’ll never forget about our beloved dog, Sierra. The picture of her in the shower, scared and shaking is one that is stamped in my memory forever!!! Of course, we couldn’t stay mad at her after all she went through that morning. I had a hard time explaining to my son’s teacher what happened to the cupcakes, and why I was bringing in store bought cookies instead. I’m not sure she believed me!
I can’t say enough about what a good girl Sierra has been through the years She has such a sweet, gentle nature that I’ve never had to worry about her hurting any person or animal. Everyone loves Sierra, even those who aren’t necessarily “dog” people. I can’t imagine what our lives will be like when she goes to “doggy heaven.”
Copyright © 2007.
|
|
 Sumo by Lisa Johnson
What will it be today? The answer to that question is almost always different, and often amusing.
Allow me to first set the stage, as here is where the question begins to take meaning....
Sumo loves to walk. Perhaps “lives” to walk is more appropriate. In fact, it may be his most favorite thing. As the “Dog Whisperer”, Cesar Milan, will claim, it’s the main thing that gives him a purpose. So, every morning, we take Sumo to work.
It’s not enough of a job for Sumo to stroll along contentedly, like the dogs that he passes along his way. In order for his work to have meaning, he needs to carry something-anything. It could be an object retrieved from the wash or the street or someone’s trash that has been placed at the end of a property for pickup.
On the mornings that I remain behind, I wonder what will be discovered that day. With the help of keen eyes, and an even keener sense of smell, Sumo has uncovered some very diverse items. Most often it’s a ball. Tennis, golf, football- he even managed to carry a partially deflated basketball for 20 minutes before allowing my husband to carry it for him. Other objects have included shoes, socks, a sweet potato (how did that get on the street?), newspapers, empty water bottles, a cell phone (which was returned to it’s owner), and a brand-new mouth-guard (no doubt getting some poor kid in trouble!). There is nothing too monumental--or too strange. He truly lives up to his name-tackling, everything with will and determination.
Little did I know, however, that one recent morning he would outdo himself. I heard the front door open and the click-clack of nails on the tile. Around the corner, he strutted into the bedroom with none other than a loaf of bread. Not a roll, but a whole, untouched, French country loaf- the kind you get at Costco that comes two to a pack. You could see the delight in his step. I thought I even saw a smile at what he knew was a most unusual and awe inspiring trophy. He was indeed, very, very proud.
Perhaps I should’ve had the loaf bronzed as a constant reminder. Or, had I have been thinking, grabbed my camera so that in years to come, I would remember that day. But I know that my husband and I won’t ever forget.
Yes, Sumo is cleaning up the neighborhood, one piece at a time. It’s a very worthy occupation. Even more important, he has the power to turn the beginning of an average day into a happy one. (Maybe this is his ultimate purpose?) The neighbors out on their daily strolls look for him and his discovery, in anticipation. It’s apparent that their morning is brightened judging by their smiles. I’m certain that the person who arrived home without his/her loaf of bread would no doubt chuckle to find that it became his treasure. By any estimation, he makes our community, and this world, a little better.
Copyright © 2007.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|