Wednesday, August 17, 2011

A Big Gulp of Puppies



Their combined weight is just over 32 ounces. That's the size of a big Gulp and not even one of the new "super sized" ones, just a plain old-fashioned Big Gulp. All seven of them could probably fit easily into one of those waxy Big Gulp cups as well, with their tiny little feet tucked into their bodies and miniature tails wrapped around their back ends like a ribbon on a present.

Paws down, at an average of just 4.5 ounces each, these are the tiniest puppies I have ever seen and I have seen a lot of puppies. I just can't stop staring at them and watching their itty bitty chests rise and fall with each breath and their tiny little mouths go about the business of nursing. I can't quite fathom the perfect functionality of such miniscule creatures, but despite my incredulity, all seems to be as it should, only smaller.

Frankly, I'm also still reeling from the surprise. Based on x-rays of their Mom and information passed along by the owners who surrendered her, we were not expecting puppies until about 10 days from now. We were not, in fact, expecting puppies until after our vacation, which begins tomorrow.

It's a SNAFU alright, and having a Big Gulp's worth of puppies born in my bathroom today definitely did not aid in trip preparations. I didn't get my pedicure and I'm not sure what all I actually packed, but, of course that stuff doesn't matter much when you take a look at a healthy momma dog and 7 tiny fighters.

I'm looking forward to my vacation, but I also can't wait to get home in a week and see if the puppies got "SuperSized" while I was gone. If all goes well, they just might each be the equivalent of a grande cappucino by then!


Saturday, August 6, 2011

Running with Dogs??


Whitney and her foster dog did a great job!
Okay, now that last night is over, I'll admit it. I was worried sick about Lost Dog & Cat Rescue Foundation's first ever race series. I mean, it seemed like a great idea this winter when I met with the fine folks at Pacers about co-hosting a 5k race series at a park in Arlington. What a great idea! 250 people, half of them with dogs running alongside? Great! Providing shelter dogs for strangers to borrow for the run? Why not? Pulling this off with a team of volunteers at the same time as a weekly adoption event for which I am the primary support? No problem!

But, then, suddenly, it was August and the details began to weigh heavily on my mind. What if we don't get enough volunteers? How am I going to get dogs to both the event and the races?  Who is going to make sure the adoption event runs smoothly? What if our "Rent-a-Mutt" dogs misbehave, trip their runners or attack somebody's dog? What if, what if, what if!

I needn't have worried and I should have known. The Pacers crew is AMAZING and could probably organize a takeover of a foreign country without much trouble, and the Lost Dog volunteers? Equally amazing, of course. The runners themselves were an incredibly friendly group and very supportive of our rescue efforts. Even the dogs (chosen with so much angst for this special duty) outdid themselves. Although one flat out refused the opportunity to run, and one chose to meander down the trail, they were all super well-behaved and were perfect rescue ambassadors.


Nathan was the first "Rent a Mutt" to cross the finish line.
Our "Rent-a-Mutt" program was so popular that the line for them formed the minute they appeared and they were all assigned to runners within 15 minutes.  I felt like instead of 9 homeless and formerly hopeless dogs needing homes, I was handing out tickets to the hottest concert of the summer! It was a wonderful experience to see these dogs be superstars for a night.

Pullman and his runner friend.
I think the moment I finally relaxed was when I saw Pullman, formerly a stray living by a railroad track in WV, trotting so proudly down the trail, head and tail high, absorbing the crowd's adoration as if he were a Westminster champion.

One race down, three to go and I am no longer worried sick. In fact, I am busy composing the list for next week's Rent-A-Mutt program and trying to figure out how to bring more dogs to be champions for a night. :-)

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

A Miracle and a Faceplant

Two interesting things happened to me today and they both involved a little orange pomeranian named Molly. 

Molly arrived with a group of dogs from a rural shelter a couple of weeks ago. She's a tiny orange thing with perfect fluffy triangles for ears and great big expressive eyes that are hard to ignore. Molly also has congestive heart failure (big deal) and a thryoid condition (not so big a deal.) Her time will be limited due to the heart failure, but her interest in living and exploring has shown no signs of flagging. 

Last week, Molly sustained a back injury that left her paralyzed in her back end. She just suddenly couldn't walk. Three times we visited the vet and three times I came close to putting her down. Three times, however, I saw in her eyes she was not ready to give up, so I decided to give her this week to get literally get back on her feet. On the advice of the vet, we have administered pain meds, done physical therapy and last night started swim therapy (more on that later.)

This afternoon I returned home and invited all of the dogs out into the yard with me. I  left the front door open so the shy, old and slow ones could meander out at their own pace and waited for everyone to conduct business. A few minutes into the action, something orange caught my eye. It was Molly. The dog who had not walked a step since Friday had walked out the front door, down the driveway and found a patch of grass upon which to relieve herself. I felt like I had seen a miracle, like the whole world should have burst into song, like balloons should be released from the heavens. I cheered, I jumped up and down and I told Molly she was one strong cookie. I truly had just about given up hope for Molly, but she hadn't given up at all. 

So, tonight, it was back into the jacuzzi tub for Molly's swim therapy. I bundled her into her life jacket, placed her in the tub and pulled her around by the handle on the vest encouraging her to move those back legs. She hated it just as much as she did the night before and paddled away from me. I reached to guide her back and that's when it happened. Both of my feet simultaneously slid out from under me on the wet floor. In rapid succession, my knees hit the tile, my ribcage crashed into the side of the tub and I executed a perfect faceplant into the tub full of water.  

It took me a moment to right myself and cough up the water I inhaled on the way down and figure out I was all in one piece. Then I did the only sensible thing a person can do in situations such as this-  lay on the bathroom floor and laugh. 

Luckily, Pam was right there to rescue poor Molly and to join me in hysterical laughter, but we are both really sorry there was no video camera involved to record my shining moment for posterity or at least for YouTube and some exposure for the rescue... 

All in all, it was a big day for me and Molly and even though my back is already telling me I will be paying for my little spill, I am still grinning from ear to ear at the sight of a little orange dog on four feet.