Monday, December 22, 2008

Clydesdale Budweiser Commercials

They have some of the best commercials! Some will make you laugh, others made me cry. Someone sent me links to this collection of commercials and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!



Snowball Fight

9/11 Respect

And the Clydesdale Donkey
I must be emotional today - even this one made me teary-eyed.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Cats keep lost boy warm

MISIONES, Argentina, Dec. 20 (UPI) -- Argentine police say a destitute 1-year-old boy was kept alive by a colony of stray cats who shared food scraps and kept him warm in the city of Misiones.

The boy, who had been missing for several days, was found by Police Officer Lorean Lindgvist, The Daily Telegraph reported Saturday

"The boy was lying at the bottom of a gutter. There were all these cats on top of him licking him because he was really dirty," Lindgvist said. "When I walked over they became really protective and spat at me. They were keeping the boy warm while he slept."

Lindgvist said she noticed scraps of food near the boy and surmised "the cats knew he was fragile and needed protecting," the Telegraph reported, noting doctors said the warmth of the cats saved the boy during freezing nights that could have killed him.

The boy's father, who is homeless, said his son vanished several days ago and that cats had always been protective of the boy, Lindgvist said.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Christmas Tree Woes

The three calamities I expected with the Christmas tree this year (animals eating tinsel, ornaments breaking, tree tipping) have amazingly not occured. But in an house with dogs, cats and toddlers, the poor Christmas tree is still suffering its fair share of mishaps this year.

This past summer was one of the worst we've had for fleas in Ohio, and during the worst of it, the pugs learned that if they get underneath the decorative bushes by the deck, that they can rub their backs on the lowest branches. Oh, heaven! So when we put up the tree, they naturally thought we had installed an indoor back-scratcher just for them. It stinks when the branches pop out of the little holders and fall out. Kind of defeats the purpose. And it's even worse when the german shepherd puppy grabs said branches and takes off around the house with them, dragging streams of icicles, tinsel and ornaments behind her.

Now that the weather has turned cold, the cats have been training me to let them in and out. They enjoyed the fall weather outside so much that they don't want to return to a totally indoor experience, so they go out for a bit while the dogs use the potty, then they come back in, too. They also decided that the upstairs was too crowded with the toddlers, so they're trying to create a comfortable spot downstairs where everyone can live in peace and harmony.

Winter, the more sociable of the two, decided that any laundry pile or the master bed was good with her, and that's where she can usually be found. Luna, being more reclusive in nature, has gone through a number of hiding spots, but just hasn't found her niche. Until the tree went up. Turns out that the bottom two rows give too much (they're sagging very nicely now), but the third row from the bottom is just right. Not too weak and the branches not too far apart. It evidently makes a perfect perch and sleeping spot for a reclusive cat. To her credit, she somehow manages not to disturb the ornaments in her mount/dismount.

With the cats formerly living upstairs or outside, the dogs haven't been around either of the cats in a significant way for quite a while. So to help establish her place in the house, one day Winter hid on a chair and as unsuspecting pugs went by her, she smacked them with her paw. Didn't hurt them, but the sheer surprise of the sneak attack served its purpose and now the dogs don't know what's around the next bend of their formerly perfectly safe house.

Luna is totally black, so when she hides in the tree, there are very few dogs who know she's there. Last night, the german shepherd puppy was sleeping on the living room floor (a miracle in itself, with all that puppy energy) and the tree wiggled. Her head snapped up and it wiggled again. A threatening low growl was emitted at the same time Petunia came around the corner to find herself a cozy place to lay. When the tree wiggled a third time and more vigorously, Petunia jerked around, ran out of the living room with the german shepherd on her heels. No one wants to live with a haunted Christmas tree, you know.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Message from the Horses

Communicating with animals, and especially with the consciousness of the groups of animals can provide very profound information. Some gifted communicators have written books with information such as this. Here is an interesting excerpt.

From the Horses:
"This time in the Earth’s history will involve enormous changes in the vibration, and consequent consciousness and evolution of life on the planet. Within the next decade animals will be considered in a new light, as spiritual equals with rights and freedoms, with important gifts to contribute to the survival of L.I.F.E. (Love In Finite Expression) forever. Man has been struggling through the dark ages of their existence in matter. Human Mass Mind Consciousness, shaped by universal consensus i.e. TV, Radio, Newspapers, has been mired with an ego driven need to fight for and accumulate material possessions. Those possessions have made it increasingly difficult to find time to commune and connect on a spiritual level with the rest of life. All of creation except the majority of mankind has been holding the vibration of love which flows freely from the All when consciousness is open. Have you noticed recently that horses are everywhere inspiring a new understanding of their gifts as wise teachers and healers. Natural Horsemanship, Equine Facilitated Therapy and Therapeutic Riding are just the very beginnings of the possibilities in Horse/Human communication. Open your minds and hearts to the messages we send you and consider us not as pawns to be exploited and tamed but as messengers from heaven, here to guide you in the experience of oneness here on earth."

Liz Mitten Ryan

Friday, December 05, 2008

Scrapbook Page - Ellie's first litter (Jan 07)

Scrapbook Page - Ellie Litter 2

Scrapbook Page - Ellie 1

Jasper & the Unbaked Yeast Rolls

We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10-year-old child you know nothing about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.

Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project was downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving dinner for family, extended family, and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time.

I was assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend.

I am still mad at the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole house that worked, thus the assignment.

I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening and to reheat Thursday morning. Since the kitchen was freshly painted, you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for five hours.

After three hours, Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning about an hour later. An hour after that, the rolls were ready to go into the oven.

It was 8:30 p.m. When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock, one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper, and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. Even his cheeks were bloated.

I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK; however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every two hours for the rest of the night.

Who knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed, the dog was black, white, and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.

Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on my part.

We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing, we put the dog out to take care of his business. Well, the dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling flat on his rear. Most of the time when he was walking, his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard, he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence.

His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk.

He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about four or five hours. He then told me to keep giving the dog Pepto Bismol.

Afraid to leave Jasper by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day.

My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch (a 10- to 15-minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and me, we took off.

Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it.

Now he was beginning to pass gas and it smelled like baked rolls. We endured this for the entire trip to Karen's. We were thankful she didn't live any farther away than she did.

Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunken dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes, "What goes in must come out," and Jasper was no exception.

Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karen's house.

Having discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor.

This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor, and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure.

We finally tried to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed too.

Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely, so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house.

I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal, both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear, I presume. I am also happy to report that just this evening I found two risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door.

It appears he must have come to his senses after eating ten of them but decided hiding two of them for later would not be a bad idea. Now, I'm doing research on the computer: "How to clean unbaked dough from the carpet."

~Author Unknown~

Advice from a professional baker:

While its a cute story I need to point out that it is not accurate as
far as the danger of un baked dough. As a professional baker for 18
years and a dog owner I can tell you that had that really happened, it is
likely the dog would have died.
I only point this out so if your animals happen to eat yeast dough it
is very serious and they need to get it out of their stomach quickly.
My friends pug nearly died of a this from a bit of dough less than
the size of a golf ball.

If your dog eats dough call your vet. I'm the wet blanket on a cute