Feeling a Little Better

Thalia saw the vet yesterday, and what I had presumed earlier is true, she has an upper respiratory infection.

The vet told me to do all the stuff I have already been doing, such as warming some wet cat food to make it all nice and smelly for her, rub some on her mouth to try and stimulate her appetite, and keep her away from the other cats. He said if she doesn't start eating in two days he wanted me to bring her back in, and gave me some antibiotics to prevent a secondary, bacterial infection. He said the meds might also entice her to eat again, but I had my own plan as far as that went.

On the way home I stopped by the market and bought Thali her favorite food.... strawberry yogurt. She absolutely goes CRAZY for the stuff to the point where whenever I have some for myself it is everything I can do to keep her away from me. She will literally climb up my chest and try to lick the yogurt right off of the spoon!

When we got home I put some of her cat food on a plate and warmed it for a few seconds in the microwave, and then she and I sat down in our favorite chair. I offered her the food first, and while she seemed more interested in it than she had for the past couple of days, she still wouldn't eat. I popped the top off of the yogurt, and she perked up right away. I held out the little foil top, and she licked it clean. I dabbed a little more on her plate and she ate part of that, and some of her food. This morning when I got up I didn't have to even look for her because she was waiting for me, and her breakfast.

So, Thali will soon be back to her old self, harassing the other cats, and playing with her brother Angel, and little sister Jackie. And most likely stealing my yogurt.

Thalia is Sickie

My sweet, beautiful Thalia has come down with the sniffles.

She started sneezing late Friday afternoon, and continued to sneeze all weekend. I was holding her when she sneezed a few times and I felt a fine mist on my arms, but their was no real substance or color to the discharge. I also saw her eat Sunday evening, so I decided we would just wait it out together and see how she progressed.

Yesterday, however, when I came home from work my roommate told me Thali seemed worse. I examined her and she did appear to be a little more congested, and even had trouble meowing. The sneezing seemed to have subsided a little, but when she did sneeze there was more of a discharge which was still without color or any real substance. What really concerned me was she refused her food. I boiled a chicken breast and set the broth in front of her to see if she would take some of that, but she wasn't any more interested in my home made kitty soup than her normal food.

When cats get an upper respiratory infection they will fast one or two days because they can't smell their food, and while that is normal it does leave them susceptible to dehydration. That, of course, can be dangerous. So, I made her an appointment to see our vet at 4PM today. She's always been quite healthy and active, but she also has always been rather lean. I don't know if that is just her body-type, or if she has aspirations of being a runway model one day, but I figure I should get her some medical attention as soon as possible just to be ion the safe side.

She has been following me wherever I go, and sits on my lap every chance she gets. I don't play favorites with my pets because, like children, they each are special in their own way. However, Thalia is absolutely the most gorgeous animal in the house. Seeing her in the condition she is in now breaks my heart, but I am confident she will ultimately be fine. From what I have read on a few different websites these sorts of things run their course after a week to ten days.

I'm just a worried father is all.

Happy Birthday, Thalia

Today Thalia turns four years old. I bought her from a breeder in Thousand Oaks who had placed an ad in the local newspaper. When I called the woman she said she had already sold all the kittens from the advertised litter, but that she had two kittens that weren't ready to leave their mother yet. She told me I could put one on hold if I liked, and invited me to come take a look-see.

I drove up there as soon as I could, and when I arrived the breeder-woman led me to a room upstairs where she kept this beautiful Blue Point Siamese, and her two kittens. The tom was in his own room downstairs, and the house smelled of cat urine. Evidently the tom sprayed the door to his room so often that it warped. It felt like she was keeping a monster in the basement or something because every once in a while you would hear him yowl. Loud.

I spent some time with the two kittens, and finally settelled on the one I would ultimately name Thalia. (I named her after Athena, in a way. Athena is a Goddess, or course, and Thalia is the Muse of Comedy.) The breeder-lady tied a blue string around her neck so that we could make a positive I.D. when I returned a few weeks later to finally take her to her new home.

When I came to take Thalia home, the breeder and I quickly concluded our business, and I whisked Thali out of the house as quickly and silently as I could. Her momma had already lost her other kitten earlier that day to the person who bought her, and she was quite distressed about it. I felt horrible, but the breeder assured me the mother would get over it in a few days. That really didn't make me feel much better.

As I drove Thalia home she never once took her little blue eyes off of me. Her look was one of love, or at least that is how I interpreted it. She also didn't seem to be afraid at al, which amazed me considering she had just been torn from the only world she knew. It was almost as if she fully understood what was going on in her little world, and she seemed quite fine with it.

Here's Thali just after I met her for the very first time. Still too young to leave her mother, she, her sister, and her mother were sequestered in a spacious room upstairs at the breeder's home. It was a fantastic house, but ruined by the smell of breeding Siamese.

My favorite picture of Thalia. If you never meet her, you can tell right away from this picture the sort of personality she has.

I just really dig the next two pictures as well. Ebby tolerated Thalia when she was a kitten, but no more. Ebby grows grumpier by the day, and Thali keeps her distance. In thses pictures, however, Ebby lets Thali pin her in a wrestling match.

The position that made her famous, Thalia loves to plant her face in the sheepskin throw.

Partially because she has been throughly rejected by Ebby, and Salem seeks her own solitude, Thali spends a lot of time with the dogs. When Thali joins Jackie and Angel in a room of the house, the dogs give her a pretty hard time by barking and posturing, but Thali just ignores them. She will curl right up beside them despite their most fervent protests.

She has learned to hold her own against the dogs as well. Angel, who pushes Jackie around, (at least as far as Jackie will let him, anyway,) won't tangle with Thali the Siamese Ninja Master. One too many hits to the snout has seen to that. You can see the reach Thali has in this great action shot. She is long and slender, and built like a slinky. I bet if she wanted to she could run faster than a speeding bullet.

Always her daddy's girl, Thali shows us where she wants to go first when she gets to Disneyland. (Don't tell her she isn't allowed in. It would break her heart.)

Hands down the most commented on picture of Thalia. I have to admit it is a very good portrait of her. It catches her personality as much as the other one, but does so without any action on her part. It also shows off her beauty. I have taken hundreds of pictures of her, but none truly captures her beauty. I will keep trying though.

Happy Birthday Thali!

Don't forget the Friday Ark at The Modulator for all sorts of critters.

Brutus is a Brute

You may remember Brutus, our little fish that we got just before the big move? Here is a picture of him when he was a guppy, (or whatever it is you call a baby fish.)

Isn't he cute?

Well, take a look at Brutus today...

"Tha's right, this is my crib. Wha' cho lookin' at?"

Yup, that's him. Brutus the Brute. He actually KILLED all those people whose skulls are piled neatly in his tank! Can you believe that? You can tell just by looking at him he has a bad attitude.

Brutus is an Oscar, and he is also a pretty handsome fish. Just ask him. Nicely. They have a reputation of not being very tolerant of others. If you cross one, you just might find yourself "sleeping with da fishes".

I recently moved Brutus into a much bigger tank because he out grew the last one. He couldn't swim very far before running into it's sides, and he would dirty it up rather quickly.

His new tank is gorgeous, but he is forced to live in solitary confinement.

He has issues.

Look for Brutus, and tons of other lovable animals, at the Friday Ark at The Modulator. You're gonna love it.

Ebby and Angel and Jackie and Thalia

Apparently all the planets were aligned the other day. Either that, or one of the seven seals has been broken because the impossible happened in my house not once, (which could be shrugged off as a fluke,) but TWICE! And in the same WEEK!

What happened was so amazing, so incredibly spellbinding that had I not been there and seen it myself, I never would have believed it. Luckily, I was not only able to witness these events, but I was also able to document them as well. The pictures I took speak for themselves, but I added my own little quips anyway because I am really a big ham at heart...

"Lo, and I say unto you, when all the animals of the house are in one spot long enough that their image can be captured, then ye shall come to know that the end of times is near."

Yep, almost every animal that is allowed in the house was in close enough proximity to one another that I was able to take a few pictures of all of them together. The only one missing was Salem, and that is why the prophesy quoted above has yet to be fulfilled, and we are all still warm and snuggly in our homes reading about this almost blessed event instead of being raptured to the Los Angeles Zoo.

Jackie seems to be plotting with Angel in this picture.

The problem I have getting shots like this is that, believe it or not, all the pets don't really enjoy each other's company all that much. Ebby and Salem are true loners, and seek solace wherever they can find it. Ebby usually finds hers outside, and Salem find hers in the garage.

Thalia is very sociable, but since she is shunned by the other cats she tries to hang with the dogs. The dogs tolerate her well enough, but they will chase her off when they have tired of her company, or if they feel she is receiving too much attention from daddy.

Thalia, more excepted by the dogs, stuck around long enough for an ear cleaning.

The relationship that Jackie and Angel have with Salem and Ebby can be called, well, tenuous at best. If Ebby or Salem enter a room already occupied by Jackie and/or Angel, you can bet your bottom dollar the dogs will chase the cats out of the room. I have tried to curb that sort of behavior, but let's face it, I am not a very strict doggie daddy.

As amazing as that set of pictures is, however, it is no match for the next couple of pictures...

"Hell reported temperatures well below freezing today..."

That's right, Ebby and Thalia sharing the same napping space! When Thali was still a kitten Ebby tolerated her well enough, but once she reached a certain age Ebby started rejecting Thali's attempts at friendship. I have mentioned before that Athena's death had a seemingly profound affect on Ebby; she seemed much more reserved, and sullen after Mama died. She no longer sought out human contact, and kept pretty much to herself. She has been more affectionate towards people as time goes on, but she still isn't interested in bonding with any of the other pets.

I am not sure how long they had been there because I found them together in that chair when I came home from work the other day. I quickly fetched my camera so I could take their picture because, let's face it, I might never have the opportunity again!

"Ebby is so mean to me all the time! I'll show her, I'll stick my tongue out at her behind her back!"

I wanted to take more pictures, and get just the right pose, but once Thalia saw me I knew my time was limited. She got up and came over to be near me, and I was only able to take three pictures. I am just glad I remembered where the camera was quickly enough to be able to get these pictures, and so I should be grateful I was able to get any pictures at all!

It's my dream to get a picture of all of our animals together one day, but trying to get three dogs and three cats to stay still long enough for a picture would be nearly impossible. I imagine that is why they invented programs such as Photoshop.

So there we have yet another exciting chapter in the lives of Jacqueline and Angel, with special guest stars Ebby and Thalia. Until next week, please go check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals, and don't forget the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Ebby is the Smartest Cat in the Universe

Ebby is the only one of our cats that we allow outside. She was a stray when we found her, and she is rather comfortable outside, unlike Thalia who sort of freaks out when she gets out.

Ebby seems to enjoy getting away from the rest of the pets, and so we let her out often. She never goes very far, and is content to stay near the front of the house napping in the garden or elsewhere in the yard.

A few days ago my stepson noticed that Ebby's collar was missing. I checked her out and sure enough it was gone. I buy the type that break away easy so the pets don't get caught, or hurt should their collar snag on something. I went and looked for the collar our front, but didn't see it and decided I would get a new one next trip to the pet store.

Well, yesterday when I came home from work, Ebby again wanted to go outside. I let her out, fed the dogs, and busied myself with some mindless enterprise or another. I think it was Mythbusters. Soon, I heard Ebby yowling at the front door. I wasn't sure at first if it was her or Salem, our other cat, so I went to the garage to make sure Salem was alright. She was, but I heard the yowling again. I was sure where it was coming from this time so I rushed to the front door to make sure Ebby was OK. I looked through the window in the door, and there she was, on the porch, and with her collar dangling from her mouth! At first I thought it was a lizard because she and Thalia have been bring a lot of lizards to people's beds lately. (Thalia finds her's in the garage.) But when I opened the door, Ebby dropped the collar right there on the porch.

Ebby brings home her lost collar.

I was so amazed I ran and got my camera to take these shots. She played with it for a bit, and the dropped it again at my feet.

She left it for me to pick up and put back on her neck.

I was really amused by the whole thing, and am still wondering if somehow she knew she was supposed to be wearing her collar, and so brought it back for me to put back on her.

Cats are great, too.

More cats can be found at the Friday Ark at The Modulator, and the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Purr, Clean, Refreshing Thalia

This week I thought we'd change it up a bit* and have a post featuring Thalia, Angel and Jackie. The first picture is of Jackie and Angel enjoying their dinner. But, where is Thalia?

Do you see her? Do you see my crazy Siamese cat? I bet you can see her now!. Purr, clean water.

So there we have yet another exciting chapter in the lives of our two favorite pups, Jacqueline and Angel, with special guest star, Thalia. Until next week, please go check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals, and don't forget the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

*OK, so it's the only set of pictures I got this week. So sue me.

Lazin' on the Lazy Boy

It seems wherever I go in the house, I lead a herd of pets.

Usually when I walk from one place to the next in our house, you can be sure to find Jackie and Angel hot on my heels. Almost as often you will find Thalia, who appears to be trying to fit into the pack. I am not sure if she thinks she is a dog, or if she just likes spending time with her daddy, who unfortunately seems to be tethered to two small, yappy dogs.

I think it is the latter situation, because often I will be sitting in my Lazy Boy chair in the living room, and Thalia soon shows up hoping to claim a spot on my lap. But, since Jackie shadows me 24/7, Thalia usually finds her spot taken. Thalia used to just leave, but recently Jackie has taken to napping between my calves, leaving the lap up for grabs. For a while Thalia would jump up onto the chair, see Jackie, and then jump down because Jackie is known to snap at anyone who gets too close to her daddy. Especially at nap time. But I worked with Jackie, and secured a delicate truce between her and her sister so that there would be a harmonious sharing of the daddy. After all, fair's fair.

Then Angel wanted into the act. He used to be content with his spot next to the Lazy-Boy where he could lift his head for the occasional scratch of the occasional itch. Lately Angel has indicated he is no longer satisfied with his spot on the floor. He has seen his sisters resting comfortably on the Lazy-Boy with HIS daddy. And mind you, his daddy was HIS daddy long before either of them came along. So now we usually see the following spectacle in our house...

I'll say one thing for Lazy-Boy chairs, they're made tough! Jackie's spot is right there between my calves where it is all warm and snuggly. Angel gets either side of my legs. If he gets any bigger there won't be enough room! The lap is reserved for Thalia, and she WILL defend her right to be there. Of curse it's a little rough on me when she is challenged for her spot, but I usually intervene and stop it before any real trouble happens.

So there we have yet another exciting chapter in the lives of our two favorite pups, Jacqueline and Angel, with special guest star, Thalia. Until next week, please go check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals, and don't forget the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Jacqueline's Story

Well, I didn't get it done in time, but here's the entry I wanted to post for Jackie's birthday. Happy birthday, baby...

My baby on her pillow taking a nap on her birthday.

You know, I am ashamed to say that Jackie and Angel both came from pet stores. I really don't have a good excuse for doing that, especially because I knew at the time what I was doing was wrong, but if you read Angel's story, you might understand how I convinced myself it was alright to buy him from a pet store even though I understood the moral and ethical reasons against doing so. The reasons behind why I bought Angel doesn't make it right, but it does give you an opportunity to be in my shoes, and see what I was dealing with when I decided to take him.

I had far less reasons to support my decision for buying another pet store puppy when we got Jacqueline, but I will tell you her story anyway.

Angel had been with us for about two and a half years when my wife started thinking about finding another dog. She thought Angel could do with a playmate, and she was a little more than disappointed that Angel had taken more of a shine to me rather than her. (I told her she needed to walk and feed him more!) I guess she thought she could rectify both problems at once by buying another dog.

She originally expressed a lot of interest in finding a Boston Terrier. My wife researches the breeds well when it comes to choosing a dog, and after weeks of such research she finally decided a Boston Terrier would be a good fit as a companion for her, and as a member of our growing menagerie.

After a little more detailed research on the Boston Terrier breed, my wife decided one afternoon to go looking for one. She hadn't reached the point where she actually wanted to purchase a dog yet, she was more on a reconnaissance mission. She wanted to find an actual Boston Terrier and see if it was the kind of dog it appeared to be on paper. From there it was her intention to find a reputable breeder from which we could purchase a dog, or maybe even get lucky enough to find one at the local animal shelter.

Even though I understood how methodical my wife was in the way she went about deciding on what sort of dog we should get, I was starting to worry a little. I was worried because when we bought Angel, even though my wife did her homework before she finally settling on a Maltese as the "perfect dog", when it came right down to it there was a significant amount of impulse buying involved in Angel's selection. I don't blame my wife for this because after all, it's really, really hard to turn away a beautiful little puppy. And Angel was a beautiful little puppy. However, the bottom line was I was afraid if my wife happened upon a cute Boston Terrier puppy, there was a better than good chance I would have a new dog by nightfall.

But, my wife is responsible, and when she did find a Boston Terrier she exercised great self control and called me before she actually plunked down any cash. In fact, I was surprised because she said she
didn't actually want to buy this darling little Boston Terrier she had found at a local pet store. She said that she didn't feel a connection with the puppy, she just wanted me to come down and see how pretty she was.

I was at work when she called, and told her I was too busy to get away from the office. The pet store was just a few blocks from where I work, but I figured if I didn't go, she wouldn't have to wait for me to get there, and thereby spend more time with the puppy. Time during which she would have an opportunity to bond with the dog, and time enough for the dog to project that connection that heretofore had been lacking.

I went with her later that evening, but by then someone else had bought the dog. My wife was a little disappointed, but she wasn't heartbroken by any means.

Hoping to get out of there before the curse of cute puppy dog eyes locked in on us, I started herding my wife towards the exit. But, she took me by the arm and started walking me back towards the puppies anyway. I asked the obvious; if the dog she wanted was gone, why were we heading back to the puppy area of the store? She said there was a Long Hair Chihuahua she wanted me to see. She said that this Chihuahua was really cute.

I have never liked Chihuahuas. I think the reason why is because I don't think such a little dog is very attractive when it has such short hair. I would never call a Chihuahua a rat, but I do see the resemblance. In any case, when my wife said she wanted me to see this dog I have to say I was less than enthused. I even told her as we walked back to the puppy pen that I had no intention of buying a Chihuahua. I explained that they are too little, and they bark too much, and that they tend to gravitate towards only one person, and snap at all the rest. She assured me she wasn't trying to convince me to buy her the dog, and that in fact she had less of a connection with this Chihuahua than she had with the Boston Terrier. By the time this conversation ran it's course, I found myself in the puppy pen.

I can still see her now, literally the tiniest puppy in the pen at less than two pounds, and yet she was wrestling with every puppy she could get near. And she was quick. No sooner had she recovered from being forced onto her back, she would snap back to her feet and race along the inside perimeter of the pen. She was the cutest puppy I had ever seen. (Angel notwithstanding.) My wife asked the attendant if we could spend some time with her, and the next thing I know I was in a separate pen holding baby Jackie. I sat in the only chair in the pen and put this little creature down in the shredded newspaper. She immediately grabbed the nearest toy and tried to shake it. Then, she brought it to me. I took it, and tossed it to the other end of the pen, and she took off after it in a flash. But, she couldn't find it because she was so small she couldn't see over the shredded paper. It was the cutest thing I have ever seen.

I got up and walked around the pen, and the tiny dog followed me wherever I went. By now it started to sink in that I had a new dog, because as we all know, you don't choose a dog, the dog chooses you. As I sat there holding this incredibly tiny dog, I could feel my heart melting, and I knew there was no way I could leave without her. I looked at my wife, who by now was completely hip to what was going on, and said, "Do we keep her?" My wife said she didn't know, and that maybe Angel wouldn't like her, and what about the cats? Would they try to kill her because she was so small? And by the way, weren't we shopping for a Boston Terrier for my wife, and not a Chihuahua for me? We mulled it over for an hour as we sat playing with Jackie in the pen. We decided to talk to the owner of the store, and asked her if we could bring Angel to meet her. We have dealt with the owner before, but that is a different story, and shall be told at another time. The owner said it would be fine with her if we wanted to bring Angel over, and so we drove home, and picked the boy up.

Angel was a little intimidated by the pet store, and all the dogs it held, but he calmed down when we entered the private pen. We let him sniff around for a while before we brought in Jackie so that he could get accustomed to the place. When we finally did introduce him to Jackie it was if they were long lost friends. They played and chased each other as the got to know one another, and before you know it we were paying for our brand new little Long Hair Chihuahua puppy.

Although I love Jackie more than anything, I always feel more than a little guilty for not rescuing a dog in need from the shelter, and even worse for supporting the puppy mill industry. The owner of the pet store, which is a local operation, swears she only buys her dogs from reputable breeders, but I can't expect her to tell me the truth if she is getting her dogs from puppy mills. After all, it is through strict secrecy that those places are able to stay in business.

I have been to the shelter here where I live, and it is heartbreaking to see all the dogs there in their kennels waiting for a new owner. When I went, I walked down the rows of the kennel and looked at each of the dogs. Most every one came running up to the back of the run to see me. Each looked like it had a smile on it's face as if to say hello.

I remember one little dog in particular that just completely broke my heart. It was a little Maltese like Angel, but only smaller like a real Maltese should be. The little guy was lying on the cement of his run trying to get warm in what little sunlight there was that day. He had his butt towards the walkway where I was, and he didn't move at all. He looked so depressed. He had a tag on his run that said he had been adopted, so it was just a matter of time before his new owners would come to take him home, but he didn't know that. All he knew was he was in a cage surrounded by other dogs in the same predicament. Who knows what had happened in his life that had led up to him being held at the animal shelter. I really felt sad for the poor little guy, but he was one of the lucky ones who would get to go on to a new home. As I walked through the rest of the kennel I couldn't help but wonder what would become of the rest of the dogs, and there were so many of them.

Angel and Jackie have a lot of years left on them, and I don't expect we will be getting any new dogs soon, but next time we will go to the shelter and rescue a dog.

Please come by next week for more in the continuing adventures of Jacqueline and Angel. Until then, check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals.

All the Pets

Most often around here we see pictures of Jackie, Angel, Thalia, and every once in a while, Ebby and Salem. I usually don't post many pictures of our other dog, Mariah. There's a couple of reasons for this. First of all, Mariah isn't my dog, she belongs to my stepson. I still love her, and I think she's a great dog, but she lives outside, and most of the time I take pictures inside the house. It's just the way I am.

Mariah is good with the other pets. For instance, Mariah is very careful around Jackie. I think she understands she could really hurt Jackie if they were to play even mildly rough. Mariah also rounds up the cats should they somehow get outside. Most of the cats aren't allowed outside. They have all the room they need inside the house, and I feel they are much safer indoors. Sometimes Ebby is allowed outside because she can handle herself pretty well. Salem likes to go out back, and is so fat she doesn't even try to jump up onto the fence, much less over it. Mariah seems to understand this, too. If Salem is outside, she doesn't bother her, but on the few occasions when Thalia slips out back, Mariah rounds her up as if she were a sheep, and guides her back to the back door.

In any case, this week I thought I would post some pictures that include each of our pets.

Poor Mariah. We have to put her food up so that Jackie and Angel can't get to it. That doesn't stop them from trying, though. Little Jackie is just too small to get up there and get her some food. Lucky for her, her daddy feeds her when he gets home from work. The hall is a busy thoroughfare. Poor Salem came here to get away from the crowd, but Angel came screaming down the hallway chasing after Thalia. (That's her tail in the lower right hand corner of the picture.) Salem tries going a little further down the hall, but here comes Thalia, sashaying down the walk with Jackie close behind. Thalia is evil. Ebby out smarted all of them, and listens to her favorite radio station in relative peace.

So there you go, a post that included all of our pets. Return next week for more in the continuing adventures of Jacqueline and Angel. Until then, please go check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals, and don't forget the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Thalia and Her Good Friend Yoda

Yesterday Yoda stopped by to see his old pal Thalia. They met years ago at a Ninja/Jedi convention during a class that helps Ninja and Jedi masters brush up on their sword techniques. As you might remember, Thalia is a Siamese Ninja Master, and of course Yoda is a Jedi.

Here are the two friends as they sit and talk about whatever secret stuff two masters talk about. Thalia was trying out the "Jedi Mind Trick" on me. You can tell by the look in her eyes.

"You will bring us much tuna"

More cats can be found at the Friday Ark at The Modulator, and the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Tiki Thalia

There is one room in the house that is strictly under my control. Sort of like what the men of the fifties and sixties would have referred to as their "den", my room is something my wife felt I should have because she wanted me to have a place where I could display my extensive Disneyland collection. She also wanted me to have a place in the house to call my own because she is a wonderful person, and she loves me very much.

My room is what was originally the living room of our new house. The previous owners added another large room with a fireplace, and that room is my wife's room. We each are free to decorate these rooms as we see fit. As it turns out, we both like each other's rooms, so it has worked out rather well.

Over the years I have collected what I think is a pretty impressive collection of things associated with Disneyland in California. People often confuse my obsession passion for collecting Disneyland related items for a love of all things Disney. While I do enjoy a lot of different aspects of the Disney Company, I am most enamored with the original Disneyland, and that is the focus of my room.

Anyway, there is a wide variety of things to be found in my room ranging from tickets and souvenir handouts and programs, to maps, attraction posters, vintage souvenirs, and collectible sculptures.

One of these sculptures is a replica of a Tiki God that is part of the "Walt Disney's Enchanted Tiki Room" attraction at Disneyland. The attraction is one of the oldest in the park, and was the first to use audio-animatronics. Last year, as part of the Disney company's celebration of Disneyland's fiftieth birthday, Disneyland offered a plethora of collectible souvenir merchandise. Among the many coveted treasures was the Tiki God I have in my room. I honestly thought my wife would hate it, but she asked me if she could put it in her room!

Thalia loves all my Disneyland stuff, and the Tiki God has become one of her closest friends...

Thalia and her Tiki buddy

More cats can be found at the Friday Ark at The Modulator, and the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Fort Thalia

First, I would like to say that our hearts go out to Laurence and his family. They lost their dear, much loved Piper the other day. Catcams will never be the same.

Now...

Who is that peeking out from inside her makeshift hideout?

Whose toes are those? Whose nose is that? Why, it's beautiful Thalia!

More cats can be found at the Friday Ark at The Modulator, and the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday.

Happy Birthday, Papa

Today is my boy Angel's birthday. Five years ago today he was born in what was most likely a puppy mill in Kansas. But, I don't wish to taint my boy's birthday by talking about that.

Angel's story of how he came to be in our family can be found here. Please go read it because I love that story.

Anyway, Athenamama tradition dictates that whenever it is one of our pets birthday, they get their very own entry along with baby pictures, and pictures of them today. So, without further ado, I give you my Papa, Angel....

Papa's very first picture after he got home. Angel's side view. He was so tiny. It's hard to believe he was ever that size. Sleeping next to his Pooh Bear on his first night in his new home. He was the best puppy. He never makes a mess in the house, and he would always put himself to sleep in his little crate. All tuckered out after playing hard, Angel knocked out next to his new daddy's slipper. His very first bath. He was small enough to wash in the sink. To this day he isn't very fond of bath time.If he here's the water in the bathtub running, he hides under the davenport. His first brushing after his first bath. This part he likes. Papa's very first trip to Disneyland. That trip showed us what a good puppy we had. Disneyland has a kennel where you can leave your dog during the day when you visit the park. Many of the dogs in the kennel were nervous, and either shook, barked, or both. Angle would just get in his crate and go to sleep. We visited him probably six times during the day to walk him, (this picture was taken in the large dog run next to the kennel,) or feed him. Each time we arrived we found our little baby in his crate, and when we brought him back to his little "apartment", he would crawl right back inside his crate and snooze. Such a good boy! My little man today with his baby sister. I can hardly remember my life without either of them.

Happy Birthday, Papa!

Check in next week for a new chapter in The Adventures of Angel and Jacqueline. And don't forget to check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals.

Jacqueline Will Be Home By Noon

Jackie's heart rate has increased to 90, and her blood pressure is stll good, but our vet decided she should stay there until noon.

All in all, she looks very good, and the vet said he has no problem releasing her to us today as long as someone is at home all day to keep an eye on her.

We will be watching Das Boot. (Hey, she LOVES that movie!)

Morning Walk without Jacqueline

Angel was looking for his sister this morning as we prepared to go on our morning walk. When the time came to open the door, however, he was ready to go regardless.

I woke up around 1:30 this morning and called the hospital. They said they called the poison control center, and they agreed with the treatment the vet was giving Jackie. They also said that the PCS said that the effects could last 48 hours.

They checked Jackie's heart rate and blood pressure through the night, and while her heart rate was still very low it was also stable, as was her blood pressure.

The animal hospital closes at 8:00am, so we will be going to pick up Jackie soon. They told me at 1:30 that she might need to stay with our vet for the day, but that they felt she was out of the woods, and they would make their final recommendations when we pick her up this morning.

I most likely will stay home from work today, and keep Jackie with me. Our vet is only a couple of minutes away from here, and if I need to, I am sure I can make it in about one minute.

Jacqueline is in the Hospital

I know many of you won’t see this until later, but right now it is 8:30pm here in California, and my baby Jacqueline is in the animal hospital.

Jackie got a hold of some of my mother-in-law’s high blood pressure medication, and is staying overnight at the hospital for observation. At the time of this writing Jackie’s blood pressure is stable, but her heart rate is between 70-85. It should be around 140.

The vet said she thinks Jackie will be OK; the meds were sustained release and Jackie got into them somewhere between 8:30am and noon, so we all think she is past the worst of it, but of course there are no guarantees.

I can’t lose her. I really, really cannot lose her.

Ailments

Lately both of my hands ache quite badly. The worst of this happens in the middle of the night when I am awaken by the call of nature, a call rarely made when I was younger, but now the caller seemingly has lost all appreciation for interpersonal decorum, and insists on calling in the middle of the night while I am trying to sleep.

But, back to my hands.

We are at war, my hands and I, but I am not sure if it is they against me, or us against time, in any case the nightly attacks have the advantage. I try to ball each hand up into a fist, and stretch out the pain, but it's as if I were trying to curl a sheet of steel, and they resist quite fervently. I persist, they relent, but when I answer the call I must turn two sets of doorknobs, and that is when my hands cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.

On my side are ointments and medication, but on the side of my pains are time and the ravages of arthritis, or whatever it is that causes the hurt. My doctor suggested it might be related to problems previously discovered in my neck . I tend to agree. Why else would it have begun simultaneously in both hands, and to the same degree?

Luckily it has not had any effect on my afternoon walks with Angel and Jacqueline. During the day my hand pains are in full retreat, and I am able to command them with out much protest. They still ache a little, and if I attempt a daytime fist the ache increases, but it isn't as agonizing as grabbing a doorknob at one-thirty in the morning. I can still hold a leash, and I can still pick up after nature has finished with her calls with my dogs. It was during one of these calls to Angel that I discovered the boy is playing host to some unwanted intruders.

While reaching to pick up after him the other morning I spotted what appeared to be a portion of a bean sprout lying across a portion of his excrement, much like Homer Simpson relaxing on a couch. I didn't think too much of it, (this is California after all,) until it moved. Then I knew.

Angel has worms.

I found an over-the-counter medication that addresses Tapeworms, (I guess I would mean Unaddresses them as you shall see in a moment,) but I will be calling my Vet first before administering any of it to him. I would think the worm will get the shorter end of the stick. This medication works by dissolving the skin of the pest. He is absorbed by Angel's system, suffering a humiliating, and coldly ironic end.

My little man also has developed a small, hard growth on one of his toes. It can be seen in the picture below.

As you can see it's reddish in color, but I bet you can't tell it is also hard to the touch, yet seems to not cause my boy much discomfort at all. While I fussed to take these photos he never showed any sign of complaint. I shouldn't let that lull me into thinking all is well though. Angel is very stoic by nature. Approximately a eighth of an inch. We will be keeping an eye on this little guy. Perhaps it's a doggie wart? If anyone has an idea, please, don't be shy, you may share your thoughts either in the comments, or by directly e-mailing me at jeff at athenamama dot com.

So there we are, Angel with his bumps and worms, and me with my achy hands. Together we go down the road of life, and we will weather the annoying little bumps together as well.

Charlotte is Gone.

Charlotte November 24, 2005

This morning I found my dear little turtle, Charlotte, dead. She was about nine years old.

Back in March I wrote about Charlotte, and how I found her. You can read that post by going here.

After I found Charlotte this morning, I went to the store and bought her a nice jewelry box, and two small baby security blankets. I cleaned her up, wrapped her in her blankets, and placed her inside the jewelry box. Charlotte now rests under a small palm tree in our front yard.

Thalia Makes The Big Time

I noticed a jump in legitimate visitors to Athenamama lately, and it turns out that my beautiful cat Thalia is the 25th hit in Google's image search engine when you search for the word Thalia.

It's even my favorite picture of her...

In case you are wondering, Thalia is not named after the Latin Singer Thalia Sodi. Thalia was named after the Muse Thalia because she was also a Greek deity, just like Athena.

How Jacqueline Learned About Candles

Early yesterday evening couldn't have been more perfect. With all my weekend chores complete, I ended up resting in the easy chair in my room with a snack and drink on the table next to me, my two dogs mildly wrestling on the rug, and a good movie on the tube. It was warm outside, and it was also lightly raining. The candles in my room gave it a warm glow, and I couldn't have been more comfortable. It was one of those moments that are all too fleeting, and I sat there trying to savor every second of it. It was glorious.

Then I looked down, and saw that Jacqueline was chewing on something shiny. It immediately struck me that little dogs shouldn't be chewing on anything shiny, so I wrested myself out of my chair, and took the shiny object away from her. At first I thought it was a piece of tinfoil. It was a shiny, silver material that was well chewed as evidenced by the tiny teeth marks all over it, but it seemed too stiff to be tinfoil. During the chewing process it had folded over on itself a few times, so I unfolded it to see if I could further identify what the mystery material really was. As I did so, I found a small chunk of wax, and immediately I knew that Jacqueline had ingested a tea candle.

I didn't think eating candle wax could harm her, but she chewed up the little foil cup that it comes in so badly that I figured she probably got some of the metal down along with the wax. I also discovered that the wick was missing, and along with it, the small, metal button anchor that keeps it from floating off when the candle is lit.

I called the local pet emergency hospital where we had taken Jacqueline when she fell. They said the wax shouldn't be a problem, but if I suspected she had ingested some of the metal, I should bring her in. I called my wife, told her what had happened, and then promptly drove Jacqueline to the hospital.

Once at the hospital I gave the attendant the chewed up tea candle as well as a pre-chewed example. The attendant said she would take Jacqueline to see the vet in the back, and would show her the candles as well.

Before I could finish filling out the paperwork, the attendant returned. She said that the doctor felt that, given the evidence, Jacqueline would be fine, but if I wanted to be sure they would induce her to vomit which would not only definitively prove whether or not she ate the candle, but might also eliminate any metal garnishes. I asked the attendant if she had shown the doctor the metal button wick anchor. She said she hadn't, and asked if I found the wick at the scene of the attack. I told her I hadn't, and that is why I was concerned she might have eaten it. I know it isn’t made out of the same flimsy material as the foil cup, and if it had made its way down Jacqueline's gullet, it could cause her some trouble.

Together the attendant and I removed the wick from the good candle, and she took it back to get the vet's opinion of its potential effect on Jacqueline.

The attendant returned, and said the doctor felt that the anchor was just big enough to plug up Jacqueline's plumbing, and that they should induce her to vomit in an effort to get it out of her. I agreed.

A few moments later the vet came out and said that Jacqueline vomited up some dandelion parts, her dinner, and something that had the aroma of paraffin about it. She did not barf up any metal objects of any kind, nor did she barf up a wick. However, she did say that when a dog is made to vomit, only about 80% of the stomach contents actually come up.

I asked if it was reasonable to assume that her stomach contents would come out in the reverse order that they went in. (Last in, first out.) The doctor said yes, that it did work that way. I said that Jacqueline ate the dandelion she found around 4:30, and her dinner at about 5:00. She tossed back the candle just before we went to the hospital, which was around 7:00. Given that timeline, she should have tossed up something associated with the candle.

The doctor asked me if I actually saw Jacqueline eat the candle. I said no I hadn't, but she has the mentality that if an object fits in her mouth, it is edible, so when I found the mangled candle body I naturally assumed it was she who ate it. The doctor asked if we had any other dogs, I said yes, we had another dog, but he's a good boy, and would NEVER eat something like the candle.

However, the more I thought about it, the more I felt that perhaps Angel DID eat the candle. I asked the doctor if her main concern over the metal wick anchor was that it might not fit through Jacqueline's plumbing. She said yes. I asked if Jacqueline weighed, oh, say 18 to 20 pounds, would she have the same concern? She said no, a dog that size should pass the object with little or no effort.

I thanked the doctor, paid the hospital $128.00 to make my dog barf, collected Jacqueline, and went home.

When I arrived back home, I found Angel just where I had left him, resting on the rug at the foot of my chair. I could swear, however, that he was looking at Jacqueline with a nasty grin on his little face.

Happy Birthday My Beautiful Thalia

Thalia is now two years old, and officially a young lady. In honor of her birthday, here is a small retrospective of her life thus far...

This is Thalia's biological mother, Jazmine. You can see where Thalia gets her good looks. Thalia's first picture. She and her sister were the only two kittens in the litter. I got first choice. Sleeping with her new daddy. Siamese Ninja. Turning into quite the beautiful young lady. My beautiful Thalia.

Jacqueline and the Big Spill

Had a Scary weekend.

It was just after ten in the morning on Saturday when I picked up Jacqueline to take her to the couch with me while I read the paper. I picked her up like I always do, under the chest with the palm of my hand. Usually she then sits up and places her front paws in my palm but some how some thing went terribly wrong, and she fell about four feet to our hardwood floor.

She started screaming as soon as she hit, and she wouldn’t stop once I picked her up again. She looked bad, and I raced her out to the truck to take her to our vet. My wife joined us in the truck, and took Jacqueline from me so that I could drive. Jacqueline had stopped screaming and yelping, but she looked like she was trying to go to sleep. Her eyes just kept closing, and she was a little unresponsive.

My wife kept talking to her, and gently jostling her to try to keep her from going to sleep as I made the five-minute drive to the vet’s in just less than three. The vet was just about to close, but took her anyway.

After what seemed to be forever, the vet came out and told us that she looked ok, that she didn't have any swelling, but that she was going to be given an IV an catheter, and transported over to the Emergency Pet Hospital just a few more blocks down the road for observation. We waited a bit longer, and soon they brought Jacqueline out to us, along with the IV bag, and we drove her down to the hospital.

They admitted her, and told us that she actually looked pretty good, but that they were going to keep her for eight hours just to be sure.

It was probably the longest eight hours of my life.

After three hours I called and asked how she was doing, and again they said she was doing well. They also said her doctor was going to be off at eight, so we should call before then to see if we could pick her up. We just drove over at 7:45 instead.

We arrived, and waited. Finally, they let us into the back where they keep all the patients. Jacqueline, who until we arrived evidently hadn’t been very animated, sprang to life and started wagging her tail. They said she hadn’t eaten, but that she did pee, and if we could get her to eat, they would release her. We couldn’t get her to eat, but they released her anyway.

She is home, and she is seemingly no worse for the wear. She did finally eat, and she slept most of yesterday, and acted a little sick in general, but this morning she seems to be her old self. My wife quipped that I neglected to take any pictures of the experience, and that made me laugh for the first time since I dropped her.

Now, I use two hands whenever I carry her anywhere.

Oh, and God, you rock!

Nap Time

Being a cat or dog around my house is rough work. Most of their time is taken up napping, and so it should come as no surprise that most of their photographs are taken during this time. It is, after all, the best time for me to take their picture. It’s the only time they are in one place long enough for me to experiment with all the settings on my camera until I find the right combination for decent enough picture to post here. You know, the kind of shot that won’t embarrass me once it is posted here for all to see.

So here are a few of each of our regulars here at Athenamama; Thalia, Jacqueline, and Angel.

Thalia as she readies herself for a long afternoon nap. Perhaps later she’ll plant her face in the sheepskin, but for now it requires a little preheating.

Little Jackie loves Strawberry Shortcake.

Angel is a boy, but he still likes to cuddle with his favorite toy after a long walk.

Sibling Love

For almost three years Angel was our only child. He was doted over and spoiled, but he’s basically a good boy. He’s also exceptionally smart.

Then along came his little sister, Jacqueline. At first there was some trepidation on Angel’s part as to whether or Jacqueline could be trusted, but soon they were running about and playing as if they were siblings from the same litter. In fact now each gets anxious whenever the other is away.

Here are but a few of the many pictures celebrating the sibling love these two have for one another.

This last one is of Angel, Jacqueline, and their favorite cat sister, Thalia. I think they accept Thalia as part of their pack, but she is definitely low in the hierarchy. Oh, and by the way, that is the lap of yours truly that they are all fighting over for a place to sit.

Carnival of the Dogs

I haven't been keeping up with the Carnival of the Cats recently, but I try to help out Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings every week with Carnival of the Dogs. I hope to get something for both next week, but for now...

I finally figured out why my cellphone bill was so high last month.
Angel showing off his physique while sister rolls her eyes in the foreground.
Jacqueline tames even the most vicious of animals.

Thinking of Old Friends

I found a few more pictures of some of the family pets we had when I was a kid. For Christmas in 1971 my sister got Bonnie, our Silky Terrier, and I got a Kodak Instamatic camera. I made good use of that camera, and many of the pictures I took have survived over the years. The problem is they are not centrally located, a problem I am going to correct soon.

In any event, I want to share a couple of pictures of my favorite little Silky Terrier, Bonnie, and her Siamese friend, Tinkerbell.

Here's an old shot I took of Tinkerbell and Bonnie having lunch together on the porch behind my parents house probably around 1972. This area is now a family room.
Another shot of their lunch together. Bonnie is eating out of a frozen pie tin. Tinkerbell's dish is an old pot pie tin.
I believe this is Bonnie's second Christmas at the house. She is getting her present from under the tree. She loved that rawhide bone so much I think she never finished it intentionally. Check that classy footwear in the foreground. I was wearing the highest quality suead shoes Kinney's had in stock.
That weird looking thing next to Bonnie was her favorite toy. She LOVED to play tug-o-war with anyone who had the patience.

Crows

My parents were very generous when it came to the pets they let their children keep. We were not only allowed to have dogs and cats, but lizards, horned toads, snakes, hamsters, chipmunks, doves, crows, and even a red-tailed hawk. The only requirements we needed to meet in order to qualify for ownership of a certain type of pet was a demonstration of knowledge in the care and handling of the animal in question, in addition to the customary prerequisite that we were solely responsible to “walk and feed” them as required.

It was out of this liberal policy of pet ownership that my appreciation for animals grew, and I soon realized that the accepted hypotheses at the time that said animals had no feelings or emotions were pure hokum. I also learned quickly that animals in general were much smarter than the general human population gave them credit for. I think many people believe their dog is the smartest animal on the planet because he learned to sit for a treat after the second or third try, but in my experience even a wild animal can be taught with the proper motivation.

In some cases, however, an animal’s intelligence can be revealed by their everyday actions. Take for instance the crow. I have had a total of four crows as pets over the course of my lifetime, and let me tell you they are pretty damn smart animals.

Around 1972 or so my brother found an ad in the classified section of our local paper for the sale of baby crows. For five dollars you could buy your own baby crow, complete with pinfeathers. My brother did some quick research at the county library, (remember those?) and learned what he would need to do in order to care for a little crowlet. He presented his case to our parents, and got the go ahead to purchase two crows, one for him, and one for me. We were able to finagle two out of our folks because, as usual, I road my brother’s coattails. He did all the research, but he would teach me what he had learned as we went along.

For the first few weeks the crows stayed in a cardboard box in our room. At first they were no bigger than the palm of my 11 year-old hand, but with a steady diet of bread soaked in a mixture of milk and bone meal, they quickly grew to the point where they could easily hop out of the box. Though they still lacked the feathers needed for flight, they were very capable of making a mess of things in our room. It was at this point that my father stepped in, and built us a cage.

The cage my father built was simple in design, and was perfect for our needs. Using only 1½-inch, wire mesh stock, my dad made a cylindrical cage with a top, but no bottom. It was sturdy enough to stand on it’s own in our yard, but light enough for us to lift it so that the crows could get out when we wanted them to. By running a couple of long boards through it we gave it added stability as well as a place for the birds to perch. We would cover it with a tarp to keep the crows dry in the rain as well as a little added protection during the night. They were also safe from cats. Because they had grown up inside our house where we had two cats as pets, the crows really weren’t aware that a cat might actually want to eat them.

Every morning, before we were allowed to have our own breakfast, my brother and I would serve our crows either hardboiled or scrambled eggs. We would take the plate of eggs out and set it on the top of the cage. Then we would lift the bottom of the cage just high enough that the crows could get out, and believe me, they would be ready to get out as soon as they saw us come out the back door. They would usually fly around the neighborhood for a while, and then come back and eat their breakfast on top of the cage. After that, they were free to fly around for the rest of the day. Only when it started to get dark would we round them up, and put them back in the cage.

That is pretty much the extent of crow care. They really are a low maintenance pet once they learn to fly. The only problem then is the mischief they get into.

I heard some time ago that the ideas that crows like shiny objects, and that they stash treasures in secret hiding places are both mythical. I am here to tell you first hand it is absolutely true that crows are indeed attracted to shiny objects, and I can verify the existence of a crows cache of treasure. The way I discovered one of my own crow’s treasure spot happened because my mother’s 1968 Pontiac GTO needed a new head gasket.

My father is not only a genius of crow cage design, but he is a master mechanic as well, and one Saturday afternoon he took to the task of repairing my mother’s car. It wasn’t long before he had most of the top end of the engine in pieces on the driveway. I remember being quite impressed with my old man because it looked like a lot of complicated work, and I guess it was because he grew increasingly aggravated as the afternoon wore on. As my father’s patience started to wear thin, his use of colorful language increase exponentially. Auto repair seemed to exhaust my father’s patience quicker than most other activities, and so when I heard him start cussing out mom’s car, I knew it was time for me to go amuse myself in the back yard.

Most days the crows pretty much kept themselves busy by flying around the neighborhood, but this day they decided to torment my poor old dad. During a short break my dad had a banana for a snack. I know because I passed by the car on my way to the backyard a little earlier and saw the peel on the driveway next to my dad as he lay under the car banging away at some stubborn car part. While he was occupied with the immovable object, the crows stole the banana peel… and stuffed in deep into an exposed exhaust port of the engine.

When he discovered what they had done, my dad went ballistic. He told me in no uncertain terms that I was to immediately round them both up, and confine them in their cage for the remainder of the day. Of course the language he used was a bit more assertive, but that was his general meaning.

Being a good son, and fearing for the life of my crows as well as my own, I got them both incarcerated in record time.

Later that afternoon my father, after successfully replacing the faulty gasket and removing banana peel from the exhaust port, started putting the engine back together. When he had the heads in place, he started putting the bolts in that held them in place. My father is very organized, and most of the bolts that he took out of the engine were right where he left them. The rest had seemingly disappeared.

I found out about the missing bolts almost immediately. I heard my father’s booming voice as he yelled for me to “Get those goddamned crows and find my bolts!” You see it wasn’t the first time such attractive items as head bolts had become the property of my pets while no one was looking, and my father was quick to realize it was the crows that stole his bolts.

The good news was that we always knew to check the crow’s hiding place for missing items first. The bad news was the crows kept changing the location of their plunder so we often didn’t know where to look. The good news is, we were sometimes smarter than the crows, and knew if we gave them something shiny, they would lead us right to their booty.

I quickly ran around the house to the backyard, and let the two crow loose. After a couple quick laps around the house, one of them noticed me holding out a nice shiny new penny. He swooped down from the sky, lit on my arm just long enough to snatch the bait from my hand, and then flew right up to the roof of our house.

I watched as my pet strutted across the roof until he reached his cache that was neatly stuffed under a couple of wood shake shingles. He took his penny, and stuffed it under a vacant shingle.

I quickly ran over to where the backyard fence met the side of the house, and scrambled up to the roof. I made my way carefully to where the crow had stuffed his penny, and there in the shingles I found five head bolts, two rings like you would get out of a bubblegum machine, a small superball, one die, my mom’s favorite broach, a toothbrush, and assorted pieces of tin-foil.

I grabbed the broach, head bolts, and the superball, (all under great protest from my crow,) and found my way back down to ground level. I handed over the bolts to my father, who still wasn’t very pleased, and gave my mom back her broach. Mom was so happy she gave me a fudgesicle.

I took my fudgesicle, and still wishing to avoid dear old dad, went to the backyard, and watched as my crow gathered up all his prized possessions one by one, and moved them to a safer side of the house.

Jacqueline's First Real Photo Shoot Part II

I finished scanning the rest of Jacqueline's pictures yesterday with the intent of posting them today, but there are nine of them so I figure I will space them out over the next few weeks instead. (I promised her she would be the most famous Long Hair Chihuahua on the Internet.) They will make nice entries for the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings anyway.

Jacqueline in her little Red Flyer.

Jacqueline's First Real Photo Shoot

Jacqueline had her picture taken by a professional for her fisrt birthday. We bought the whole set, but here is a scan of the picture I chose to grace my desk in my office at work.

I will post more soon.

Happy Happy Birthday Baby

Today Jacqueline hits the big "Oh-one". My little baby has had a great first year here in her new home, and we look forward to many more years to come.

But for now, let's take a look back over the past year...

This is Jacqueline's first day home with us. She was so tiny at 1.5 pounds that she looked like a living Beanie-baby.
This picture with the television remote might give you some idea how small she was.
Just too cute for words.
For a long while we were afraid Thalia would confuse her for a large mouse. We literally had to separate them during the day while we were at work for fear that Thalia might seriously hurt her.
Soon she was a big girl, (6.5 pounds,) and we could finally buy her cute little outfits.
When we first thought of getting another dog, we worried about how our little boy Angel might feel about it. But he LOVES his little sister.
Now my baby is a little lady, and is all grown up. She had her first professional portrait taken the other day, and when I pick them up, I will post them for the whole world to enjoy.

Be sure to check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator

Jacqueline Da Brat

Jacqueline is a funny little dog. She sometimes mugs for the camera, and other times she just fools around like a little kid.
Below is a series of pictures I took the other day that captured the brat Jacqueline in action.

Finally

The Friday Ark is now up at The Modulator. So MANY critters.

Angel Runs with the Big Dogs

Angel is a Maltese. He is supposed to weigh no more than seven pounds, yet he is a hefty eighteen pounds.

Nonetheless, he is a little guy. He can't negotiate stairs, and he can't jump up onto furniture. He likes to be carried, and when we go for walks, he takes about seven steps for my one.

But he thinks he is a big boy, and has no trouble letting bigger dogs know how he feels.

Angel met this Boxer at the Disneyland Kennel, and they got on swimmingly. Angel was just a few months old in this picture, and you can tell he was pretty fearless when it came to checking out this huge dog.

Maybe this is where he learned to get along with larger breeds. This is Angel with our other dog, Mariah. Mariah looks like she is about to take a major chuck out of our little man, but take a look at the next photo...

Mariah wouldn't hurt a flea.

Just a nice picture of Angel and Mariah. Now, for the fans of Jacqueline....

A baby picture.

Again with
The Friday Ark at the Modulator. Check it.

Early Cat Blogging: Athena

This week’s cat blogging is going to be early, and all about Athena. You can read all about her here, so I will forgo much of the back story that goes along with some of these photographs, and just give a quick comment for each instead.

This is Athena with her brother Rocky, and her sister Mitzy. It was soon after I took these pictures with a disposable camera that I decided I should invest in a digital one. I wish I had bought it sooner because this is one of just a handful of pictures I took of Athena as a baby.
We had Athena before Angel, and here she is with him when he was just a few months old. They really liked each other at this age, but as Angel got older he started getting a little bossy with her.
One of my absolute favorite shots of Athena.
Another of my favorite pictures of her. It’s just a little over exposed towards her hind legs, but otherwise almost perfect. Her eyes were framed in black just like it appears in this picture. When I first saw her I didn’t think much of her coloring, but as she got bigger I thought she was one of the prettiest cats I had ever seen.
She really loved sleeping in that bassinet.
Grocery bags are to cats what boxes are to little kids.
I always liked her pose in this picture, but felt that the bright light ruined it. It has since grown on me.
Sometimes I look up from my desk, and I still see her just like this.
Another shot I wasn’t impressed with until sometime after I took it.
Athena shows her prowess at walking along the backs of the dining room chairs.

So there are but a few of the many pictures I took of Athena during her short life. I am so happy I bought the digital camera when I did because it enabled me to take as many pictures as I want without fear of wasting any film. I saved every picture I ever took of Athena, good and bad, and I am glad that I did.

The Big Match

The other night Angel and Jacqueline got into a friendly tussle over the new stuffed toy I bought them. It’s a stuffed green frog, and if you squeeze it, it croakes. Jacqueline goes bonkers over any toy that makes noise. Angel likes to play tug-o-war with them, and then chase after them when someone tosses one for him.

Both are possessive with toys.

I threw the frog on the bed where Angel and Jacqueline were resting the other night, and after a lively round of “who can hold on to the toy the longest”, Angel finally wore Jacqueline down, and each went to their corner.

Jacqueline after the match.

To the victor go the spoils.

Don't forget to check out the Friday Ark over at The Modulator, it just keeps getting bigger each week.

Jacqueline's Photo Shoot

I have said it before, Jacqueline is hard for me to photograph because she is so dark. I took these last night, and of course I had to lighten them up a tad in photoshop. If anyone has any tips, I would appreciate it if you left them in the comments please.

Don't miss the Friday Ark at The Modulator, so much to see.

Doorway Thalia

Thalia likes high places. She is always looking up at them, and she usually gets there by jumping first up onto my shoulders, and then to her lofty destination.

Here she is after she jumped to the top of our bedroom door.

Once again the Friday Ark is up at The Modulator, so go check it out.

How Jacqueline Got Home Safely

Every afternoon I walk our two dogs, Angel and Jacqueline. I admit I am like an over protective new mother when it comes to those two little dogs. Because of this, I am always on the lookout for danger, and I am always conscious of my grip on their leads. Once not too long ago I became aware that Angel’s harness was a bit too loose. Even in a harness I have had the dogs get loose by pulling backwards as I held tight on the leash. I have seen Angel slip his legs through the straps of the harness and before you can say “Bob’s your uncle”, he’s free.

I figured I should adjust his harness before he did get loose, so I wrapped Jacqueline’s lead around my leg, and stepped on the rest to be sure she was secure while I worked on Angel’s. I fidgeted with Angel’s harness for a moment or two, and once I was satisfied that he was securely strapped in, I went to pick up Jacqueline’s lead. I picked it up, I noticed there was no tension in it, and so I looked at the end of it and where there should be a Jacqueline, there was nothing but air. I looked further down the path, and there about 50 yards away was Jacqueline running down the walk without the benefit of her harness. I was horrified.

My mind raced as I frantically tried to decide what to do. I could run after her, but Angel wouldn’t be able to keep up, and Jacqueline is pretty fast. If she decided to bolt, I wouldn’t be able to catch her. I thought about picking up Angel and chasing after her, but it would most likely be as bad as the first scenario. So, I decided to call her. I yelled her name, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She looked back at me, and I thought for a moment that she was going to turn and run. Again my mind ran through the possible out comes, most of which ended with me never seeing her again.

I called to her again, and told her to “come”. I got lucky, she decided to run back to me. As soon as she reached me I fastened her harness, and adjusted it so that it was a little snugger, preventing her from slipping out of it again.

That little episode reminded me that I should never take my pet’s safety for granted. I thought I had secured Jacqueline well enough, but in the short time that I was dealing with Angel, she had still managed to wiggle out of her harness, and start blithely down the path.

Now I keep a constant eye on both dogs, and if I need to make an adjustment or something else where I need to focus on something other than the dogs, I keep them much closer and in front of me so that I can monitor them at all times.

I am not about to have to go through the agonizing pain of printing up and attaching flyers all over town.

Best Buds

Here are a couple of shots of Angel and Jacqueline chillin' at the edge of the bed. Jacqueline is just so darn dark that it's hard to get a good shot of her. I have a difficult time finding a good balance with her and Angel because he is so white, and she is so dark that if I brighten up the picture too much, Angel washes out, and if I darken it, Jacqueline's face disappears!

That's a great shot of Angel doing his Gene Simmons impression by the way.

Again, get on over to the Modulator for the Friday Ark.

And Now... Thalia

It's been a while since I have had a decent picture of Thalia, or any of our other cats for that matter, to post for the Carnival of the Cats. I took a bunch of pictures last night of Thalia in hopes of getting a least one good one, but this was the best I could do.

We'll see if I get any better pictures by next week, but for now, here she is...

Now, go take a look at the Ark at The Modulator.

Angel and Jacqueline on Their Afternoon Walk

Yesterday was a wee bit on the cool side, so Angel and Jacqueline both got to wear their sweaters for our afternoon walk. I decided to take my camera with me, and so below are a couple of pictures of them at various stages along our usual route. I had forgotten that I put the smaller memory card that came with my camera in it the night before because I was experimenting with some of the settings, and needed the original card to take panorama pictures. (The panorama setting will only work with the OEM card for some reason.)

To my surprise there were a couple of pictures of Athena still on the card that I had forgotten about. Those pictures were taken almost exactly two years ago; just seven months before she died. They aren’t the greatest pictures ever taken of her, but I put them at the end of this post just for the hell of it.

So, without further ado, Angel and Jacqueline on their afternoon walk.

This is Angel at the beginning of our walk. He looks rather dapper in his little blue sweater, and is already to strut his stuff for the little bitches we are sure to encounter!

Angel and Jacqueline police the area.

Looks like we may have found something. Too bad I saw them find it and made them leave whatever it is alone. Angel will eat whatever little treasures he may find along the pathway, and he is pretty sneaky about it too. If I don’t realize he is after something before he gets it into his mouth, it’s as good as his. This time, he lost out.

When we reach the grassy area, Angel smiles a little for the camera.

But soon he’s back looking for hidden treasure.

While I was busy trying to get a decent picture of Angel, Jacqueline was helping herself to a few small myoporum flowers that were littered about the grass. If you click here, you can watch a short Qucktime movie of her eating them. You must have Quicktime installed on your computer to watch this movie.

That was all the room I had on my camera for pictures. Now for the pictures of Athena that were already on the memory card.

This is Athena on my old, ratty computer desk.

Here she is again looking rather bored with the whole process.

Well, that’s all for now. I guess we learned today that a straight guy can walk two small dogs in sweaters in public without worrying about what other people may think.

Or something.

Angel and His Coat

I love showcasing our pets on Athenamama. They bring such joy and happiness to our lives, and I think they deserve to become famous. At least as much fame as a few posts on a little known blog can bring them anyway.

Jacqueline has pretty much been stealing the show on Athenamama recently because, let's face it, she's adorable. But I don't want to take anything away from my little man, Angel. Angel is a fantastic little dog that was sold to us as a Maltese. But Maltese are supposed to weigh in under 10 pounds, and they have long straight hair. My boy is around 18 pounds, and when his hair starts to grow out he looks like a little polar bear. His hair is so curley that I have to brush it out at least once every day, or it gets matted and he starts to pull it out.

Last week we took Angel to the groomer and had his hair shaved close to his body. He seems more comfortable this way, and it is much easier to deal with as well. Here he is in his little yellow jacket just before going out for a walk. California dogs are like California people; if the thermometer dips below 66°, we think we are freezing!

Angel in his coat soon after he went to the groomer.
This is an older picture of Angel when his hair was longer. Neither of these pictures show how different he looks before and after he gets shaved, but they are all I have on hand right now.

Puppy Purse?

I walk both of our dogs every day after work. Recently, however, the weather has been cold and wet here in sunny California, and Jacqueline doesn't cotton to it too well.

Being the good doggie daddy that I am, I carry her often now that the weather is what it is. She has a sweater, but her little feet and legs wick up the cold off the ground in an instant, and she wants me to pick her up after only a few moments. I can carry her fine in the crux of my arm while holding on to Angel's leash, but it would be easier if I had some sort of carrier to sling over my shoulder or something like that. So off to the Internet I went to find such a contraption.

I found plenty of convenient carriers, but there was one that made me stop and wonder if it was really just a cute idea, or borderline abuse. Look at the picture below. It is called a Puppy Purse. All the dogs used as models on the website look comfortable, some even look happy. But to me it just looks wrong!

The Morning After

I am happy to report Jacqueline survived her very first New Year's party. While there were no pictures taken during the party itself, I was able to snap these two pictures of her the next morning.

Here is Jacqueline just as she woke up early New Year's Day.

And here she is just before she ran off to watch the Rose Parade.

Bonnie, Pywhacket, and Tinkerbell

I didn’t take any decent pictures of our pets this week so I thought I would look through some older pictures and see if I could come up with something interesting.

What I found were pictures of some of the pets I had when I was a kid. I say some because our parents allowed us to have almost any kind of animal we wanted for a pet as long as we took proper care of it. We had three crows, several morning doves and ring-necked doves, assorted reptiles, a couple of chipmunks, a hamster or two, fish, and for a short while even a red-tailed hawk.

Most of those other animals weren't with us for very long for one reason or another, but Bonnie, Pywhacket, and Tinkerbell were part of our family from the late 1960's until the early 1990's. Each was a joy to be around, and I still miss them.

This is the only scan I have of Tinkerbell. I took this picture sometime in the early 1970’s. My parents bought Tinkerbell in 1967, and she lived until the early 1980’s. She was very sophisticated, and tolerated the other animals to some extent, but she made sure to remind them of their place from time to time.

This is Bonnie. She was a Christmas present for my sister in 1970 or 1971. But Bonnie spent her first night in the house with my mother before she was given to my sister Christmas morning. Therefore Bonnie thought my mother was her mother, and she would follow my mom all around the house for the rest of her life.

Here is Pywhacket in her favorite spot in my