Argh

I always think I should volunteer out at the animal shelter. We don't have a no-kill shelter, and since it's a college town there's generally a pretty high population out there, and since they've got a new animal control officer out there, he welcomes Humane Society volunteers to come out and help with cleaning and socializing and walking the dogs and so on.

I could manage with the cats. I can deal with cats. Kittens, even. But I was just looking at the pictures of the dogs and puppies that are available, and realized I'd never get out alive. I have a friend who takes the photos for the fliers and website, and she's banned me from going out there because I *always* cry over the dogs.

The Humane Society also has a Soon To Be Homeless feature on their website, and today's star is a fourteen-year-old lab. "We don't have time for him any more." I do NOT understand that kind of mentality. He's fourteen. How much longer is he going to live? Can't you just give him love and make him as comfortable as you can for however long he's got left? It's not going to be that long, not that breed and that age. I'd take him myself if I had a bigger house, and I don't even like labs, but I think I could baby this old guy for the next 6 months. I don't know whether I'm more angry at these people for their ingratitude and insensitivity, or bewildered at how they can do this.

T-hugs seem in order. I read stuff like this and go home and hug them and whisper, "I will never let anything like this happen to you. Not Ever"--whatever "this" happens to be.

Last night I was lying on the bed reading, with Taenzer beside me, and was holding the book with one hand and running my fingers through her britches with the other. And I kept getting these thick strands of long silver hair (easily spinnable, i should think--4 or 5 inches long). Finally I sat up and said, "Geez louise, Taenzer--how long has it been since I brushed you???" So I brushed her and brushed her and brushed her and got an Annie-sized collection of undercoat, mostly from her tail and britches. It was nice to get her tail all brushed out. She's so pretty when she's brushed.

Timber had been thinking about jumping up on the bed to try to get me to play ball with him, but he took one look at the brush and scooted out to the living room. Honestly, he's such a baby about being brushed! And I have to tackle his tail one of these days.

Timber, btw, got himself crated last night. He got me up about 1:30--which was odd, since I didn't go to bed until 11:30, so it had only been 2 hours, and I hadn't refilled the water bowl in the bedroom since about 8. Sure enough, he did pee, but only about 20 seconds' worth (when he really really has to go, it's more like 45 or 50 seconds). Mostly what he seemed to want to to was survey the area, test the air, sight-see. So I marched him back into the house. Half an hour later he was pacing and whining, and since i KNEW he didn't have to go, I stuck him in his crate. Not another peep out of him all night. He's 3-1/2, which is like late teens/early 20s in humans, so I suppose he was seeing how far he could push the maternal limits.

Tomorrow is "Bark in the Park." The vets have tables, places like Farm King have tables with dog products on display, the local K9 cops bring their dogs to show off. Lots of people (and dogs) go. We've gone the past two years because the local camera shop offers a picture of your dog for $5, with the money going to the animal shelter, and the past two years I've gotten really good photos from them (I think I have last year's in my first blog post where I introduce them). There's a roped off area where they have several dozen shoes, plus cheap toys and treats, and you and your dog can go in and the dog can pick out its own toy. The Ts are usually too hyperstimulated to be really interested, but I'm thinking I might take off one of my shoes and toss it in and ask Taenzer if she can find it. I don't know if she'll be able to focus that much, but it's worth a try.

There used to be an agility demo, too, but the woman who did it got too busy (she does BC rescue practically single-handedly, plus she has a new job and a 6-year-old). I'd love to take it over, but Taenzer's not that reliable--her brains fall out her ears when she gets excited--and I'd need to get some kind of barrier--if not show-ring fencing, at least some connectable x-pens or something. Something easily portable, but substantial enough to clearly say to her "this far but no farther." If I really worked with her, we could do a freestyle demo, too. :) I usually prefer to do things, like exercise, by myself, but in this case I think I need a training partner.

Anyway, they've behaved very well the times we've gone, hardly any barking and very good dog-dog manners, so if I can get my act in gear in time we'll probably go tomorrow. It's good for them, and I think they enjoy it.

Oh, yeah. a couple of weeks ago I forsook my size 18 jeans and got out my 16s. This morning I couldn't find my size 16s to save me--how on earth could I lose a pair of jeans, since they never leave the house unless they're on my body? They have to be in the house somewhere, but darn if I could find them this morning. The 18s were so baggy, though, that in desperation I dug out a pair of size 14s. Imagine my total shock that they fit. Mostly. They're a little tight in the waist, but I've never had a waist, even when I'm exercising--I can either fit my waist and have the seat and thighs baggy, or fit the hips and thighs and have the waist tight. Anyway, that was quite the surprise. I don't feel at all like I've gone down--well, 4 sizes; I'd gotten out the 20s when I started dropping weight. Usually this is the point when I feel all inspired and start exercising and walking and stuff, but, as I say, it just doesn't seem very real or something. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant surprise and I'm grateful.

Hug your dogs, everyone, and please remember the cliche--A dog is for life. In all sorts of ways.