A St. Patrick's Day Tribute to the Luckiest Little Clover I Know

When I happened upon this lonely little four-leaf Clover, she was wilted, trampled on, stomped over by life. A life she didn't deserve. A life that left scars.

But I picked her. I picked her because I knew she was special. I planted her in my home and nourished her with plenty of love.

And then, an amazing thing happened:

 

She grew into the most beautiful good luck charm.

 

At times a lovely, delicate flower…

…but with all the sass of a fiery Irish redhead!

  I will post Clover's full story sometime soon…

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day from Clover…
 

...and Snuggles, too!

[CLOVER] Yes, we are HOTT. So what?

So, fun fact... Snugs and I were out walking our Mommy this week and not one, but TWO times, we got stopped by ridiculous peeps with an even more REE-DIK-YOO-LUSS query. No, dummies, we will not have sex with your doggies! Look, I know me and my little bro are super fine, as well as highly sought-after for photo shoots, not to mention all that and a bag of dog biscuits, BUT that doesn't give you the right to proposition us in the middle of da streetses! Ew. As if. We are NOT that kind of gal/guy. You, a random stranger, calling out, "-ey! Are those boys or girls? Cuz I got a girl pit and we're lookin' to breed her. You wanna breed yours?" is not going to get you far with our Mum. She is not pimping us out! Besides, we got no special partses left anyways.

Dummies.

Srsly.

*RME*

We only has eyes for each other

Meet Clover!

This is Clover, Snuggles' new sister! I adopted her this weekend from Mid-America Bully Breed Rescue in Kansas City, Missouri.

Clover was picked up with her brother/son, Romeo, as a stray in Des Moines, Iowa. She was pregnant but all her puppies were euthanized. :o( A soldier adopted this beautiful girl but when he was unexpectedly deployed to the Middle East she ended up back at the shelter. Eventually MABBR drove to Iowa and picked her (and Romeo) up for their adoption program. She went into foster care.

Snuggles and I drove up to Kansas City this weekend to meet her. Snuggles got to stay in his first hotel and everything. He was SUCH a good boy.

The first meeting with Clover couldn't have gone any better. She and Snuggles played for a solid two hours and had an absolute ball together. I knew then that she was the one. The perfect fit for our family. We brought her home with us. The entire 5 1/2-hour trip home the two babies snuggled together in the back of my car. Since then they have been total BFF's. They even went to the mall and bought matching necklaces that say "Best Friends" on them. They are so silly!

I am happy as a clam. As are my two babies.

Our first family portrait

Time for a Jealousy-Inducing Post

Nanny-nanny-boo-boo, look who had a sleepover at my house last night! MUWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Here's the situation: I heard from a fellow rescuer who feeds a lot of strays. She's been going to a local junkyard for quite some time now, feeding the myriad of dogs out there. They just keep breeding and having babies forever and ever. The owner of the junkyard doesn't feed any of them, doesn't want them and pays them no mind. Even worse, in order to apparently kill off the fleas and ticks he has doused several of them in DIESEL FUEL!!! Absolutely unbelievable. So last night we rescued this mama and her babies and more rescues are planned for today. Just look at this sad mama's face. Looks like she's been through a lot, huh?

Dreaming with Lunesta

I have ADHD. Which sucks sometimes. Especially when it comes to trying to fall asleep when your mind won't shut its freakin' hole. But add to that the fact that I actually have a related sleep disorder, too. It's called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome. Basically, my body's internal clock is off by several hours. What that means is that my mind and body want to sleep around midnight or later and then wake up around 10 or 11 a.m. I also sleep "backwards." Most people fall asleep quickly at night, sleep deeply, and then spend the early morning hours slowly waking up. I'm the opposite. So for example, if I try to go to bed around 10 p.m. I will toss and turn for hours and slowly fall asleep after a long time (if at all!). Then I do my deepest sleeping and dreaming in the morning, just before having to get up for work. You know that feeling of abruptly being woken from a very deep dream sleep? You know how sort of shocking that feels to your system and how groggy you feel and very irritable? That's how I feel every morning if my body doesn't get to sleep until its preferred time.

HOWEVER, for the last oh, 6 months or so, I've been taking Lunesta. Oh Lunesta, how I do love thee. It has been a miracle for me. I take it and in 30 minutes I'm out like Seacrest. I sleep really well and wake up like a semi-normal person the next morning. The interesting thing, though, is that I have the most bizarre, detailed dreams that feel supremely real.

So, submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society (does anyone else remember that?), I give you my latest Lunesta dreams...

I frequently dream that I am back in high school and that I've forgotten my locker combination (and also its location) and that I've not been going to class and I suddenly am in class having to take a big test, not knowing the material whatsoever. I had that dream but this time my classes were quite interesting. I went to Math class wherein, for some reason, we were reading and being tested on children's books. I can't remember any of the book titles. Then there was English class, being taught by a German woman but we were studying Spanish. She liked to make class fun by passing out multiple bottles of pink nail polish for the girls to paint their nails in class. Don't worry about the boys. There were none in this class, apparently. The instructor also made madeleines on some sort of panini maker thing during class for us to eat.

Suddenly there was a tornado. No warning. Just that the building was picked up and then hurled back to the earth. Immediately my classroom became one of those college stadium-type lecture halls where the chairs are affixed and in descending rows like a theatre. Folks were rushing around helping the wounded. I helped pull some people out of where they were stuck between the seats. Also, curiously, I helped some pit bulls in danger of falling (?) out of the seats. Then I went and found my brother, who was on the other side of the school. We had a happy and relieved reunion and then I began to rap.

Then I was magically on the beach in L.A. It was crazy crowded and instead of sunning themselves on the sand, folks were all perched atop multiple tiny stilted buildings, sort of like lifeguard towers. My mom was there and we started talking to a guy with a Scottish accent. He was wearing an Irish football club shirt, though. Mom was all, "Are you from Ireland?" and I was all, "MOM! Can't you hear his accent? He's Scottish!" and then he and I had a good laugh at my mom's expense with high fives all around for good measure.

The End.

Por fin, I would like to say that Lunesta has been a God-send. Now, if I can just get rid of that damn green glowing butterfly that hovers around my night table...

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I Heart Duckabees

I'm feeling super ducky today cuz I got to save a couple of little Ducky McDuckersons from the Oklahoma wind today. It's like fence blowing-down windy and we went to eat lunch at a place on the lake today, where it's even windier-er next to the water. As I was leaving and headed towards my car my brother and sister-in-law yelled to me to come over to this little spot where some flowers and little shrubs were planted outside the restaurant. They were all, "HELP THEM!" There were 2 lil' McDuckersons that were freshly hatched outta their eggies and were literally about to be blown away. It was the most pitiful/cutest thing I ever did saw. I ran over in my platform heels, all the while my dress at risk of pulling a Marilyn Monroe, threw all my stuff (purse, keys, scarf) at my family members and scooped the little critters up. I hobbled through the little garden and found the other eggs and put them back behind some shrubs where they would be more protected from the wind shears. Here are some pixes of the Duckersons. They're a bit hard to see cuz they're all camo-y and stuff.

(If you're having trouble seeing him, his beak is on the left.)

As Moi would say... *le sigh*

River's Sister, Emma

This is Liz's other baby girl, Emma.

Here's Emma's story, too...

From Liz:

I have been a lifelong dog owner, and after I married my husband, we lived in apartments that were too tiny to keep a dog of the size I wanted. Finally, in 2003 we moved to a house with a yard. I had been doing research on dog breeds for 5 years, and had come to the conclusion that I wanted an American Pit Bull Terrier. Their wonderful personalities, which combine equal parts nobility and goofiness, attracted me, as well as their "underdog" plight and the fact that they're so commonly misunderstood and misrepresented. I found out that a local dog trainer was also a very responsible pit bull breeder, and I contacted her to see if she had any adult dogs. She introduced me to Emma, the finest dog and most loving canine companion I've ever known. Emma was adopted out as a purebreed puppy from show stock, but was abused in her first placement, having been confined to a puppy-sized crate almost exclusively for the first 6 months of her life. When the breeder found out about the owner's irresponsibility, she took Emma back and rehabilitated her. Emma had rampant skin infections from lying in her own excrement and urine, and was bloody from elbows to paws after trying to dig out of her crate. Emma was nearly 2 when I adopted her, and she's been my constant companion ever since. She embodies all the best of the APBT: loyalty, gentleness, playfulness and a capacity for love that humbles everyone she meets. She transformed my husband, who had been attacked by a dog (German Shepherd) when he was a child, into a lifelong dog lover.

Mute Monday Topic: Outrage

[Warning: Graphic Images]

River's Story

Tomorrow's Mute Monday post, the subject of which is "Outrage," will feature photos of my friend Liz's pit bull, River. I wanted to give you her story and the happy ending complete with pictures before I post the "mute" portion. You'll see why. Tomorrow's photos will likely render you speechless, apropos of Mute Monday, and I promise you that you'll want to know there was a happily ever after. So here goes...

From Liz:

My husband and I were looking for another dog in early 2006 when we stumbled upon River's story. We had been the proud and happy owners of Emma, a rescued American Pit Bull Terrier, for nearly 3 years, and had grown to love the "Pibble" personality: equal parts goofball and steadfast friend and companion. Emma loves other dogs, and has no dog-aggressiveness, so we wanted another APBT.

I was cruising PetFinder.com when I saw a listing for a dog at a nearby shelter who had "special needs." My husband is an ordained minister, and I'm a clinical social worker who frequently works with "special needs" people, so I wondered what a "special needs" dog would be. I clicked on her profile and saw the photos of River, taken when she was first rescued in June 2005.

River was found chained to a street sign in Wilmington, North Carolina. She had been doused with gasoline or another accelerant and set on fire. When the good Samaritan who found her brought her to the animal hospital, she was a bloody mess, missing most of the fur and skin from her face and one side of her body. She was underweight and terrified, but showed no aggressiveness to the staff who tended her painful injuries. The Norman P. Wiggle Home for Wayward Dogs, a privately-owned no-kill shelter in the area, raised funds to pay for the surgeries River needed. After one eye was removed and her wounds healed sufficiently, River was sent to her temporary home. There she was re-socialized and given basic obedience and housetraining.

River's first two home placements didn't work out—she's a skilled escape artist, and can easily jump 4-foot fences. As soon as I read her story, I spoke with my husband, and Adrian and I scheduled an appointment to meet River. After socializing with our other dog, Emma, ensuring that they got on well with no dominance struggles, River came home with us.

River and Emma bring joy to the lives of everyone they meet. They have both completed beginning and intermediate obedience courses; my husband and I believe it is essential that River and Emma be good ambassadors of their breed. River shows a special intuitiveness toward people: when my husband and I return from a long day of emotionally exhausting work, she rests her head on our legs and gives us that one-eyed look that just melts us. "You're not alone," she seems to say; "I love you, and we're going to be okay." In my work with survivors of abuse and neglect, I use River's story to illustrate that our success in the painful process of working our way through woundedness lies in our ability to continue loving ourselves and others despite our pain. River's unconditional and enthusiastic acceptance of every new person and experience is the best testimony to the true nature of the American Pit Bull Terrier: no abuse, no matter how horrific, has the power to destroy their ability to love.

Please note: Tomorrow's post will have a graphic image warning. If you are squeamish, proceed with caution.

Got my puppy fix... *sigh*

I helped with a rescue transport this weekend. That's where an adoptable dog or group of dogs makes their way across the country from a high-kill shelter to a rescue or forever home by means of a not-so-underground doggie railroad of sorts. One person drives a leg of the route, hands the dogs off to the next and so on. Since I drive the World's Smallest Car Ever TM and, therefore, can't transport crates, I try to help out with overnights as much as possible. So I had 3 extra pibble kids stay with me last night. They arrived after 10 p.m. and then left for Minnesota this morning around 9 a.m.

One of them, Heidi, was only about 4 months old and so shy and fearful. She was so sweet and it made me sad to see that at some point humans have done something to make her so afraid of them. As soon as I put her on the ground to potty, she just cowered. So I plopped myself down on the grass next to her and just gave her some time to get used to me. Eventually she was crawling into my lap and climbing up my chest to give me kisses on my mouf. Sadly, I had a cold and couldn't smell anything so I didn't get to partake in the sniffing of puppy breath. :o( But all in all it was a rewarding 12 hours and I was sad to see the babies go but excited for them to go to their new homes.

Yea for rescue! And yea for MARS. They rule.

No.

So, many of you are familiar with my distaste for PeTA. Reason numero uno: they are pibble-haters. They want to ban and euthanize all pit bulls. They wanted to PTS every dog confiscated from Bad Newz Kennels. And despite the amazing stories having come out of the Vick Dog camp, they continue to declare that the dogs still should not have been allowed to live.

They also think having a "companion animal" (read: "pet") is slavery. And when I say they call it slavery, I mean that they literally compare having a pet to pre-Civil War America's enslavement of African captives.

Now, I thought they had pretty much fallen off the deep end already when last year they actually requested that Ben & Jerry's change their ice cream formulation to use breast milk in lieu of cow's milk. That's just dirty hippie on a whole new level.

But just when you think you've heard it all, here's Reason No. 1,782 to believe that PeTA is truly one coconut short of a migrating flock of swallows: they have sent 80's pop group the Pet Shop Boys a letter urging them to change their band name to "Rescue Shelter Boys." No, people. This. Is not. A joke. Except maybe in the metaphorical way. You can't make up stuff this stupid. As you might imagine, the Boys have declined the request, although they have also made it clear that they do not in any way support pet shops.

PLEASE don't get me wrong here. I am as staunchly anti-pet shop and puppy mill as they come. And if you are wondering why that is, then please, please, PLEASE check out Best Friends' A Puppy-Store-Free L.A. campaign.

Lastly, I'll leave you with one more tidbit... PeTA is now going on the PR defensive for fish, redubbing them "Sea Kittens" because they believe that people would think twice about fishing for, killing and eating "Sea Kittens." You can even go on their site and create your own huggable sea kitten. I tried to put mine on here but I couldn't get the html code to work right. Suffice it to say, it was awesome. It had a mohawk, a unicorn horn, and Water Wiggles.

But I still don't like PeTA. Cutesy Flash-animated fishy dress-up games notwithstanding.

Happy Easter Massacre!

Check out my friend's pit bull Sharky with his little furry friends.







What. Did you see him licking them chickies?



Here's one other...








Sharky has tons of other cute videos up on YouTube so check it out!

It was an Easter miracle!

Last year on Easter weekend my brother found the Easter Bunny in his yard.

Turns out, he’s much smaller and less pink than we always thought. I rushed right over to meet him slash hold him slash pet him slash wish I could keep him. We called a bunneh rescue expert and determined that he was old enough to survive without his mommy and then set him free in the park so he could go and fill children’s Easter baskets with glee. And maybe some rabbit pellets.

I hope he comes back for a visit this year!

Mute Monday Topic: H-E-L-L

Wow.

My head is about to explode right now. I have just read this article on Fox Sports and I want to bawl my eyes out and punch something really hard... all at the same time. [edit: actually, I read the article last week and have been composing, rewriting and adding to this post ever since.]

V*ck (yes, a 4-letter word) may actually be released from prison as early as May, only to be "confined" within his own home. He would be on house arrest but hey, no worries! The good Newz for him is that funding and running a dogfighting ring doesn't require leaving the house. Lucky guy. So instead of the original halfway house plan, he'll be languishing in torment within his own "cozy" quarter-million-dollar, 3,500-square-foot crib, complete with awful, awful swimming pool. The reasoning for this? The halfway house is out of space!!!

The idea that this could all come about so soon was upsetting enough before I got to... the Comments section under the article itself. I am in complete and utter disbelief at the level of cruelty and ignorance displayed by many of the posters on the board there.

Soapbox time. I need to vent before I spontaneously combust.



Some of the comments that upset me the most were along the same lines as the following:

• V*ck did his time. Leave him alone. Actually, no. He didn't. Or hasn't. The whole point of the article is that he'll probably be released early. Nevermind the fact that the time he did serve was for his financial involvement in the operation. The punishment wasn't even for the torture and murder of animals.


• Everyone deserves a second chance. He's a great football player. Let him back into the NFL. If those corrupt CEO's that stole everyone's money can get away with their "golden parachutes" why can't V*ck play? Blah, blah, blah, ridiculous nonsensical crap... First of all, look around... who on earth is saying those CEO guys got what they deserved?! And I'll give you a shiny new nickel if you can find any one person in America who thinks they should be given back their previous jobs... ever! Do you think that if they did prison time (whatever amount is "fair") that once they're released people will be clamoring for them to be once again gainfully employed as CEO's at some Fortune 500 company? "H" no! MOST folks who come out of prison have a difficult time rebuilding their lives, starting over again and finding new jobs, especially in the white collar world. I have a very close friend who was, in a past life, an inmate. He worked very hard in school after being released and now has a very comfortable job in the corporate world. I am very proud of him and he deserves to be where he is. But V*ck doesn't have to be a star QB to be given a "second chance." Perhaps his second chance is mopping floors or salting French Fries or clipping hedges. Why does it have to be another round of fame and fortune in order to be considered a "second chance"???


• Other athletes have done far worse things and didn't get punished this harshly. How come Michael Phelps can get away with hitting the bong? Really? Really, you're going to compare the murder and torture of innocent creatures to smoking some weed? I'm not condoning what Phelps has done and neither is a lot of the media. The guy is being completely blasted for the indiscretion and besides, the incident is so fresh that we still don't know what's going to ultimately happen with Phelps' career, endorsements, etc., as the thing progresses. Also, does anyone remember a fella named Pete Rose? He got banned for life from baseball because he gambled. Gambled. Again, not condoning, but come on, people. There is no comparison here. AND DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED on the cretins commenting that athletes like A-Rod deserve being banned for steroids, however, V*ck is being unfairly treated. Hooooooooooooooly crap.


• He's just being made an example because he's famous. No one else gets punishment this harsh for dogfighting. Everyone's just picking on V*ck because he's high-profile. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah! And are you sure about that? Have you been following the case of Jerry Southern? The DA says he could face a 350-year sentence Or the recent bust in North Carolina? Or any of the other dogfighting busts ever? Doubt it! This is likely the only one you've ever really heard about or paid attention to and that's because V*ck is, yes, famous. But that doesn't mean that other non-famous dogmen aren't routinely punished. Ed Faron (North Carolina) was sentenced to 8 to 10 months' prison time for 14 felony dogfighting counts. Compare to Vick's sentence of 23 months after pleading guilty to only 1 count of sponsoring fights, which carries a maximum sentence of 5 years.

• They're just dogs. Okay, this type of comment doesn't even deserve a response. It's just total jackassery, to put it mildly.


• Calm down! It's not like he murdered someone or beat his wife. No, he beat the dogs entrusted to his charge and who had no choice in the matter. He murdered dogs who trusted him despite his cruelty.

• PETA. How many comments did I read that said things like "PETA sucks! Leave V*ck alone! Those nutcases over at PETA can shove it!" I'd like to know why anyone is even bringing PETA's name into this conversation? Did you happen to know that PETA called for the mass euthanasia of every single dog confiscated from this bust? Did you know that PETA thinks all pit bulls should be killed? Are you aware that PETA considers having a pet ("companion animal") tantamount to slavery?

• He should have to pay half of his future NFL salary to PETA. So they can use the money to call for the euthanasia of every other pit bull on the planet?

By the by, I was at a PetsMart during Christmas time getting Snuggles' picture taken with Santa. He (Snuggles) was wearing his V*ck Sucks t-shirt and a lady came up and said, "Oh, let me see his shirt... now what does that say? 'V*ck'? Who's that? What's that mean?" I said, "Michael V*ck? The football player that killed all those dogs?" Her response, "Oh... well, I don't follow football." Apparently you also don't follow the news and you also make your residence beneath a rock.

Snuggles is famous!

Ch-ch-ch-check it out!

(you thought I was gonna say "Ch-Ch-Ch-CHIA!" didn't you? Ha ha, you were wrong...)

So Snuggles is starting to make me feel a bit inadequate about how much more popular and cool he is than me. Consider the following Exhibits...

First off, he is in the Spay Day Online Pet Photo Contest for the cutest pet so please go vote for him!

Here's his entry:

Snuggles

My person: Heather, OKLAHOMA CITY, OK, United States

Nickname: Snugglebug, Snuggies, Snugs, Buggy, Burgle-Bean

Favorite thing to do: Why, to snuggle, of course!

Most endearing bad habit: Moaning like a moo-cow when we go for car rides.

I fell in love with his goofy ears the instant I saw him on Petfinder. And he's so incredibly loving and cuddly despite having been an abuse/neglect rescue case. He's the world around which I revolve.

My Charity: Volunteers for Animal Welfare, Inc. (Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, United States)

Click here to vote for Snuggles!

Proceeds from the voting ($5= 5 votes , $10 = 10 votes, $25 = 25 votes, and seriously, do I need to go on explaining this to you, dummy?) go 100% to the local Oklahoma organization Volunteers for Animal Welfare, Inc. They provide low-cost spay/neuter and vaccination services to needy Okies.

4 out of 5 dentists agree that Snuggles is adorable and the 5th dentist was recently fitted with cement shoes and is currently vacationing at the bottom of Lake Hefner... so, uh... I'm not trying to threaten anyone, but uh... well, yeah I am. So... go vote for Snugglebug! Or else I'll have to commence poking you with a soft cushion! MUWAHAHAHAHAHA...


Exhibit B: head over to my friend Nancy's awesome new website The Pit Bull Princess and get a load of my Snuggies on the front page REPRESENT-IN! Besides Snuggles, there are some other really cute things on the site, like the vintage advertisement-inspired pibble posters:



And lastly, I ran across some Snuggles posts on the Best Friends site of Forever Friends, the awesome rescue group I went through to adopt Snuggles from Petfinder. They even gave my blerg a shout-out:

"Snuggles Gets A Great Home, And A New Mom Who Can Blog, Or Is That Brag?"

These two feature Snugs in his yellow raincoat with little yellow duckies:

"Snuggles in his ducky raincoat"

"2009 Adoption statistics for FFHS"

Sigh... I am SO PROUD!

Hed. Asplode. From too much cuteness!

Instructions for chasing all your blues away:

Step 1: bottle feed a puppy.

The end.

Several weeks ago a gal named Carrie found a litter of 5 pibble puppies in a shed on her property. Momma was nowhere to be found and the babies' eyes hadn't even opened yet. Carrie contacted Forever Friends Humane Society and after a lot of scrambling around by a group of folks, the pups were rescued. Two stayed here with my friend Sabrina and three went to Missouri with my friend Lillian. Both of these women have bottle fed puppies before so they were eager to take on the challenge.

So a couple weekends ago Brina let Mom and me come over to visit her 2 babies. Words cannot express the extreme cuteness. We even got to bottle feed them ourselves. Holy crab. Just. The best thing. EVER! Tiny puppies whining and grunting and crawling around like little army men with milk mustaches and goatees.

I mean.

Just.

What.

I can die now.

And the puppy breath... oooooooh, the puppy breath. Did I mention the puppy breath? I was kissing one of the pubbies goodbye and he started biting my nose and I almost had a seizure from the complete and utter adorability of it all.

Here are some pics of the visit. On your mark... get set... be jealous!!!

Pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-TINIEST BURP EVER!

Parting is such sweet sorrow. That I shall say "goodbye" 'til it be morrow...

(taken with my mom's iPhone - that's why these 2 pixes are iBlurry)

Here are a couple of short video clips I took, too.

Can you even believe the itty-bitty growlage? ACK!

Sigh...

Lilly sent me some pics of the other three babies this week, too. Here they are, being ridiculously adorable, making out and playing with the rest of their puppy play group.

Thanks, ladies! Brina and Lil, you two are my heroines (the girl version of "heroes"... not the kind you have to detox from. Although, truth be told, I may have to check myself into puppy rehab after this.)