1.365 - Hank, watching

Yes, I'm going to try and do Project 365 again this year. :D If it happens, it happens!

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Hank - The story

Hank was a puppy mill dog. Though he's only been a live a bit over a year, he's had little exposure to the outside world - to people, new dogs, and the wonderfulness that is living with a mom and dad who are going to shower you with treats and squeaky toys.

Our journey so far has been intense. We've just passed Week 2, and with it has come some progress. For the first week, Hank's fear allowed him only to sit on the floor, cower, and hide his face. He'd press his little black nose in to anything that was in front of him - totally avoiding both me and the Drummer. He didn't move for hours, barely ate or drank, and had to be forced out the door to try and use the bathroom.

Walking was the first key to Hank's progress. We started really pushing him out the door, and walking him with a lot of speed and purpose. At first, though he followed us, he'd cower when anything passed- people, cars, etc - and sometimes, he'd flip around, jump, and try to escape his collar. I combated this with simple leadership. Eventually, he let that go and continued without the fear.

The second key has been exposure to people and dogs. The more time we spend at other houses with other people and dogs, and with others here, the more he opens up. He is inquisitive and gentle with new people and animals - although he's quick to correct when necessary. He follows me wherever I go if there are others around.

He has begun to bond to me, which has come with both rewards and challenges. He has not bonded with the Drummer, so he perceives him at times to be a threat to our pack. He will growl at him, when he comes home or comes too near to me. Of course, we're working on this - but it remains a little funny to me that anyone think of the Drummer as a threat :D Hank is not aggressive, but fearful and not confident, so the protection comes along with that. He'll progress.

I have been really unable to write about this process until now. I have been overwhelmed with the emotions and trials of this process. I knew that he would be damaged - quite damaged - but I didn't know that it would have been this bad. There were times when I thought I didn't have the strength to work with him, when I didn't know where to start.

I've always known it's better to rescue a dog - but with rescue, you get emotional baggage that you didn't install. This dog was damaged by some jerk somewhere else, and he's only acting on his fear of what's been done in the past. We're uninstalling some major issues and this will take major time. On the other hand, this dog would have been euthanized in the shelter, because no one would have taken him home. We're giving Hank a second chance at life, a young life, and with time and patience, he will make it.

I have been frustrated because this dog doesn't speak - english, of course - and while that's obviously just frustration, I've been lead to better understand the universal language of energy. Trying to give out the best possible kind, not only to Hank, but to those around me. That's the real key to his success, and mine, actually. I have a feeling that by the end of this journey, I will have learned more than just how to really rescue an abused animal.

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Hank

Originally, I planned to write a blog about Hank's arrival process, how he got here, and how he's doing, but I'm too exhausted. I will probably write more later, but right now, I'm just not able to do it. Instead, I'll show you this quick photo of him, so that you can send him all of your happy thoughts and love , so he may become comfortable and realize that he's home for good now.

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Approved

The Drummer and I have been approved for adoption! We will be finalizing details today, and I'll let you know when we'll be expecting our new child.

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Knock on Wood

Well, I know that it is not a good idea to talk about things before they are written in stone, but I'm going to go ahead and give you a little peek at something I'm working on.

Now, I might have mentioned in the past that the Drummer and I would be welcoming a new addition in to our family. I may have also mentioned that we'd have to move in order to do so, but some things have changed with our landlord (she decided she loves us) and we'll now be staying at the current apartment and the bringing new "child" in to our family sooner.

Now, I must say before going forward, there are only two things that are certain now. 1 - we ARE getting a dog; 2 - it WILL be hairless. What is not certain is that this dog will be the one, however, we're hoping he will be, and it's looking more and more to be true:



He is an American Hairless Terrier, he's a year old, and he's a rescue dog.

I don't expect you to croon over how cute he is, because I know some people don't love the hairless thing. He's not a cuddly poodle or happy golden retriever, but that's because the Drummer is allergic to all that fur. I, on the other hand, think he's adorable. I love uniqueness, and these dogs are definitely that. They're also active, long-lived, and pretty small and good for traveling with us.

Anyway, we're in the adoption process now, so wish us luck that this little guy will come home to us before Christmas. I don't want anything else!

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R.I.P. Suzanne

Suzanne, who was the biggest, baddest chick in the family, went on to rat heaven last night after battling an upper respiratory infection for the past two days. The illness worked very vast and was unresponsive to antibiotics.

She was a character - an old meanie, but always the first to come when I called her. I miss her very much already.

Suzanne and Agatha were the first rats we brought home and today I'm reflecting on how important they were to me, how much their love helped me, and all of the good times we had together.

R.I.P, Suzanne. May your days now be filled with yogurt drops, noodles, and cozy paper piles.

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Four-legged Lonliness

I'm having what I imagine most women go through when their friends and family start having children - when they are either unprepared or unable to have their own. My sadness, however, isn't caused by my lack of human spawn.

It's caused by my lack of a four-legged one.

I grew up with a dog. We always had one - from my first puppy, a rambunctious beagle named Augie, to Sassy, our cocker spaniel, and then Boogie, the cocker spaniel/labrador/golden retriever mix who lived out the most important years of my life with me. (He has since passed.) Now, in between those dogs were countless fish and parakeets - our house was a house where pets were.

If you're a person who grew up with a pet; had one around most of your life, you'll understand what I'm getting at here. A dog is like a family member. He/she must be loved, paid attention to, fed, disciplined and cared for much like any human. In return, a dog provides unrelenting, non-stop unconditional love that surrounds you and hugs tight even when all the humans in your life let you down. A flapping tongue loving eyes are always there to greet you.

(I'm writing this mostly about dogs because that's what I've had most often; cats are also similar in their contribution to life. I'm slightly jaded because I had to leave my one and only cat, an orange tabby named Legolas, behind when I moved to California. He was truly one of a kind, and I miss him so very much. )

Human relationships take work. They feel stressful and while they are rewarding generally, they are painful. This is accentuated for someone like me, a sort of outcasted socially awkward girl who'd rather work on whatever project she has than spend a night out with acquaintances and people she doesn't know.

I have a less than ideal relationship with any of my family members (aside from the Drummer), and that's something that's both environmental and locale. I don't get to exercise unconditional love, and I don't get to receive it often, either.

My heart hurts for a companion who doesn't talk, change, or need me to listen to their problems. A friend who simply needs to be fed, and requires me to move my myself out of a depressed mood to walk him to the dog park. A warm body that curls up next to me and doesn't get sick of it.

Now, you may ask, what is keeping me from adding this furry family member to our current household?

Because the landlord says so.

We love our apartment. We love our landlord. And it is currently driving me insane. I get it - rental owners want to keep any pet related damage at bay - but do they realize what kind of damage a three year old can do with a sharpie and a toy truck? Kids are far more destructive than a small breed dog. It's silly.

And well, now is not the time for the Drummer and I to be looking for another apartment. I'm trying to be positive, thinking toward the not-so-distant future when we make bigger decisions about where we live. Because the next time we move? No pets is a no go.

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God 2, Nissa 0

Olive died last night.

She was most likely sick since we've had her, and we were just unable to tell. That happens, especially since she was so young.

She was a great little rat while she was with us, and I'm very sad to lose her.

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Olive

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Agatha's Death, with a Happy Ending

I know it's been a few days since I last posted and the last post was just a photo. I haven't really been up for talking about or writing about Agatha's death. Normally, writing helps me to understand my emotions about a particular experience but with this, I just don't want to talk that much about it. I think I'm just exhausted. Taking care of sick rat + death of rat + sadness + midterm projects = no sleep and bad mood.

The long and short of it is that she got deathly sick Friday. I took her to the vet Saturday to find out she had pneumonia. He gave me a syringe to feed her and 5 days worth of antibiotics to be injected but he didn't know if she'd live. Dave and I nursed her back to moving around and eating when she sadly and very tragically had an accident in which she became stuck somewhere she wouldn't have usually been stuck, and it killed her. Her body was weak and the worst possible thing happened.

Dave feeding Agatha sugar water to help her
build strength.

She'd been laying with me or Dave for two days straight, wrapped up in a blanket and eating out of a syringe because she didn't have the strength to lift her head. Losing her to a freak accident was so f'ng ridiculous. I'm really angry that it happened but glad that she was close to me before it - that we had those days of bonding like we hadn't had before. Her little body was usually to busy to stay in my hands for too long, but while she healed in the warm blanket, I got to spend more time enjoying her smallest features.



Saying goodbye has been difficult on both of us as well as Suzanne and Margot. We'll never forget Agatha, she was a one in a million rat. I feel lucky to have had her with us for even the short time we did. I miss her so much. She was always the first to the cage in the morning, and the only one who let me pet her neck and belly before giving me kisses. :( Sad, very sad.

After everything, I decided to begin looking for a baby rat not to replace Agatha, but to spend time and attention on to keep from feeling sad. I was lucky to meet the perfect little lady this week, and she's now awaiting a name and getting used to her new home. She's so tiny, that her entire body fits in my palm.



It's such a painful experience to watch a pet die. But the benefits outweigh the negative a million times over, and I'm excited to bring this new baby in to our family. I think Agatha would approve.

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R.I.P.

Agatha
2.1.08 - 3.9.09

The most wonderful little person without words who I've ever known.
She is loved tremendously and missed furiously.

Sleep well, little one. We will never forget you.

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Ho Hum and a Couple of Rats

I hate January, February, March and the part of April that comes after my birthday. There's something about post-Christmas America that is horribly dull and depressing. No one has money, the weather is bad, and people are stuck between the festivities of the holiday season and when Summer begins.

That being said, I'm glad it's March. This Spring/Summer is ramping up to be a fun/productive one for me, so I'm basically counting the days.

Last week, I took a new job as a photographer's assistant for a local wedding photog. It's a great opportunity for many reasons, a few which are obvious and a few which are just possibilities that I don't want to share quite yet. But she's great, and I'm excited to work with her. Additionally, I have three of my own weddings booked for the Summer months.

My brother is graduating from high school on June 7th, and we're throwing a huge bash for him. I will return to my high school for the first time since graduating myself!

In other news, I'm turning 25 this year. A quarter century. *sigh* It brings me deep sorrow, as so many things I wanted to accomplish before this great age still remain only pipe dreams. It's more helpful to reflect on the things I have accomplished, I know; but why is it that each year seems to pass more quickly and with it, so many things seem to fall out of the realm of possibility? I wish I'd made better decisions, I wish I'd have known then what I know now. Obviously that's impossible, but the number 25 is like a screetching siren that warns me time is running out.

On that depressing note, I hope to leave you with some happy photos.

Margot spent a few days in solitary confinement because she had developed some respiratory issues including discharge from her eyes. Generally speaking, symptoms like that are scary, because rats suffer from respiratory diseases chronically. Being as though Margot is hairless, however, her lack of well, fur, eyelashes and adequate whiskers makes for more sensitive skin, eyes and nose. We had been letting them chew up a cardboard tube, and I wondered if it hadn't irritated her. Thankfully, after placing Margot in a single cage and cleaning her eyes out, the discharge didn't return. So I imagine it was the cardboard.

It was interesting to see the rats mood while separated. Margot was much more gentile and caring while alone. She even spent 20 minutes sitting with me on my lap! Agatha and Suzanne, who stayed in the big cage, didn't fight or inflict violence in the cage once.



Agatha is a little mother. She cleans everyone from head to toe, and is the nest-maker of the trio. She's sensitive, caring and delicate. And she loves cleaning Dave's facial hair. It is adorable to watch her parse the coarse facial hairs with her little hands.

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