It's been freaking nuts, as usual. The apartment is full of unfolded laundry and dirty dishes, as usual. Every surface and a lot of the floor is covered in stuff.
It's business as usual around here.
Friday I got my final rabies shot. This way, if I get bitten by a suspected or confirmed rabid animal, I'll only have to get half the shots. Hooray.
I had a mild allergic reaction to this one. Previously they were just sore, and nothing like Tetanus. This one, though, swelled up in a circle a couple inches across. Itched and hurt for 3 days. Not pleasant, but all done now! Still itches a little, though.
Saturday was especially nuts. I took the dog out at 6 a.m. before going to work to find that our car had been broken into. Joke's on them, kind of, because there was nothing of value in our car. They took my husband's iPod, which was a 3rd gen and ten years old. Literally worthless; recyclable only. Has 20-second battery life. Moron. Also took maybe $2 in quarters.
That'll cost us $164 to fix. I hope karma kicks them in the nuts.
At work, a bunch of animals were surrendered. I can remember six crazy 7-month old puppies who may have ringworm (and so might I, because I handled them*), two massive "German Shepherds" and two elderly beagles. I also heard that one lady surrendered 8 cats.
*Fun fact: Ringworm is the most common infection that staff get from animals!
Tubby, one of the "German Shepherds", is my new favorite. He's some kind of shepherd, but I'm not sure it's German. He's nothing but fur and is 103 lbs. He's very sweet, loves attention, listens to commands and loves belly rubs. He's great.
What annoys me is when people surrender animals and obviously just don't care about them. The guy who surrendered him is, I suspect, the owner's son or son-in-law. He didn't know anything about the dogs and just had an attitude that annoys me. The owner is elderly and has had surgery and can no longer care for the huge 8-year-old dogs. It's sad. I'd take Tubby in a heartbeat. His buddy, Tundra, maybe just because I feel sorry for her. I think she misses her buddy more than her owner. He, I think, misses his owner more.
A family also brought in two kittens, Charlie (girl) and Jack (boy). They were so young they still had umbilical cords attached. They said they waited for mom to come back, but she never did, and they suspect hawks ate the rest of the litter.
They're in foster now, but there was a little scare when receiving told us they had maggots on them. That's usually a bad sign. We thought it was just dirt because they weren't moving and didn't look like what I think of when I hear "maggots".
In fact, doing a little Googling*, I see that they were eggs, not yet maggots. Regardless, we cleaned them up and they're doing just fine.
*Don't Google "maggots" or "fly eggs".
That night we had kabobs with friends, which were delicious and I had lunch for two days after. Remy enjoyed the backyard, as usual.
Remy was spayed on Monday. She did not enjoy the kennel. She was zonked out for a couple hours with her tongue hanging out. I took her out to potty and she stumbled a bit but didn't seem to notice. We'll have to keep an eye on her for the next two weeks, but it doesn't look like she'll have to wear the Cone of Shame.
Another week gone by. Another week's-worth of stuff. I'll start with the most recent stuff and work my way back in the next couple days, if I have time.
Yesterday, two batches of puppies came into the shelter, essentially without mommies. My coworker ended up taking one batch home and I took the other. I don't know what the story is with his and I don't remember seeing them.
The litter of puppies I got originally had seven puppies. By the time they got to the shelter, there were five. One died soon after. From what I understood, these people had the mother and her puppies. She had a wound that metastasized and they wouldn't let the puppies nurse. I don't think they ate since they were born. They were only a few days old- their eyes are still closed, they're definitely nursing and you can still see their belly buttons. Mom was brought in with the pups but was put down soon after because of her condition. That left the puppies on their own.
I guess because I had taken the kittens last week, I was asked pretty early on if I'd be willing to take them. It was the foster coordinator's day off and they couldn't reach her, so they were having trouble finding a foster. I said sure, if it was okay with my husband. I figured he wouldn't turn them down, even though we said we were going to take a week off, let our apartment recover and get cleaned. Maybe have a break from the stress.
I was told to not expect too much from the puppies; they'd already lost one and didn't really expect two of the four left to make it. They wanted to make sure that if one or more died I wouldn't hold myself responsible. A vet tech found me later and told me essentially the same thing: They're in bad shape, just do what you can. Feed them, clean them and keep them warm. That's all you can do. Don't worry about the blood.
We lost our first one early on. I don't even have a picture of him. I didn't start taking pictures until things started settling down and we got into a routine. I was told to check on them every hour, feed every two. Healthy puppies usually only cry when they're hungry, so you'll know when to feed them, but these also cried when they pottied and sometimes just because. They're not well. Mom had hookworms, so they got dewormer, too. I guess they still aren't in the clear yet, but I think the three left are doing fairly well. Two are fighters. The third is about a third bigger than the others but quite lazy. She's quiet and will take the bottle, but not with nearly as much vigor as the other two and she drinks less than a quarter of what they do. She was just born big, she's no hog. Her belly is nowhere near as big as the others because she won't drink enough.
Losing the baby boy was rough. My husband was still up at that point. The puppy just cried and cried and cried and wouldn't drink. We kind of knew we were losing him but didn't want to say it out loud. I should have known when he was quiet that something was wrong, but I didn't notice until one of his sisters started pooping and I was clearing everyone out to clean up. He was on the bottom, still warm but not moving. I went to wipe him off and his little leg wasn't moving; rigor mortis was already setting in.
Even though we knew it was probably going to happen, it didn't make it any easier. We both sat and cried for a little while; I held him in my lap, just making sure that he was really gone. It's been a while since I've lost a little one. It was hard, wrapping him up and putting him away. Just writing this has brought on the waterworks again and I guess I'm not okay with it. We both knew we couldn't help it, but that doesn't make it okay.
Those people should go to jail. I hate them.
The three left are Hope, Champ, and Cosette (I'll have to get around to changing their names, they were originally Hope, Grateful, Miracle and Blessing). Hope, the big one who is light brown and , is the one who wasn't eating and I was worried that she was going to die, too. She would cry but not drink, so I would hold her in my lap and she would sleep there.
She's doing better now, and I do have hope that she'll be okay.
I honestly have trouble telling the other two, a little boy and girl, apart. I thought for a few hours that I had one but I had the other. One has a wider stripe on its head, but I can't remember who is who. If we get them back, I'm sure I'll get it eventually.
They each have their own feeding needs. Champ needs to be held firmly to take the bottle and does best when eased down on his side. Champ and Cosette are both fussy when taking the bottle. They want it, but reject it and then go frantically looking for it. Hope will take it, but only for a tiny bit. She needs to be set up on her butt, sitting vertically. She can be propped up or held. She got my ear earlier this morning and it felt strange for like 10 minutes.
My husband took them back to the shelter at 8:30 this morning and I finally went to bed. Because they had been starved, they wanted to eat every half hour instead of every two hours. I got some 15 minute naps in there, maybe 3 or 4. I laid on the futon with them while my husband was in bed. Lucky things seem like they can eat in their sleep.
They're supposed to go somewhere else, because we won't have time to care for them past Friday. They got in a mommy who either is done nursing or lost her puppies, so they want to see if she'll accept the pups. If she will, they want us to take them all. We have a problem saying no.
UPDATE: The mother refused to nurse the puppies, but they went into foster and all three survived. The mother dog was adopted, too.
