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Pugsley the Pug

About a month or so ago, mom took a friend to the JSPCA to get her dog neutered and maybe adopt a new dog. Well, they didn’t have the type of dog that mom’s friend was looking for, but a different dog did find a home that day – with mom.

The creature was four-year-old pug named Dora. Mom and the rest of the family couldn’t get into the name Dora, so they are calling her Pugsley. (Mom wanted to call her Bisli, because of her curly tail, and thought that it would go well with Pretzel, but the kids overruled her.)

I know that I should be more like “Welcome to the family” and all, but this little creep barks at me. Mom has been trying to train her not to chase me and Snoopy, and she’s been pretty successful, but I still don’t like her.

Snoopy is doing much better than I am about the whole thing. She’s not crazy about Pugsley either, but she’s willing to ignore Pugsley and if Pugsley get too closes, she has no problem using her claws to let Pugsley know to keep her distance.

I’ve been spending most of my days hiding in the closet. I come out in the evenings to hang with my special little girl. Mom makes sure that she spends time with me in a closed room, so I know I’m still loved.

I wish that I could find a way to get over my fear. I don’t ever need to love the new dog, but if I could just get used to it being around, things would be much better. I was able to get used to Pretzel. I just need some courage to get used to Pugsley as well. I now know how the cowardly lion felt. Where’s the Wizard when you need him?

Shemesh the Sun ConureI am yellow. When I say that I mean that it’s not only the main color of my feathers, but it’s also my nature. Even though I’m a Sun Conure, I sometimes act more like a chicken than any other species of bird. It’s really only my nature when I am in a place that I don’t know all that well. Why am I telling you all this? I flew away a couple of weeks ago. It’s not something that I’m proud of. Mom was almost as scared as I was. After the initial flight away from my cage, she spent hours looking for me. She went home devastated and thought that she would never see me again. (Spoiler alter: I’m happily in my cage now!)

This is how it all went down: We are painting our house. The fumes are very dangerous for birds. In order to keep me safe, mom took me to Softa’s house, away from all the fumes. When she got there, my cage got stuck in the car. In an attempt to dislodge it from its place, one of the doors popped open. My toys were clanking around, and dogs in the neighborhood were barking. With all the ruckus, I decided to take my chances and find a nice place to hide in a tree. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I glided up to the top of Softa’s neighbor’s tree, just out of  mom’s reach.

Mom tried to talk me down, but there was just too much going on for my comfort. Not only did I not come down, I decided to take a bit of a stroll around the neighborhood. Mom spent hours walking around and calling for me, but it was dark out, and I just wanted to hunker down for the night. Mom gave up and went home for the night. There was nothing else she could do.

The next morning, mom got up at 5am, before the sun went up, in order to search me out. It seems that it’s best to look for missing birds right before sunrise and right after sunset. We birds like hanging out at those times. Mom was so surprised how loud all the birds were in the neighborhood. She never realize that that’s our special time of the day.

Lucky for me, I decided to go back to that neighbor’s tree. When mom came looking for me, and started to sing my favorite whistle, I couldn’t help but sing along. Once she had me in her sights, she wouldn’t leave until I was safe in my cage. It took a bunch of hours to coax me down, but mom was there for all of it. My pal Tweety helped too. After mom took out Tweety, Softa’s cockatiel friend, to talk me down, I started to feel more confident that being lower down wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. Even so, I only came halfway down on my own.

As practically a last resort, mom took a hose, and wet me down a bit. That made it a bit harder for me to fly. When I did fly, I could only get to a shorter tree, and only on some of the lower branches. The contractor that is painting our house was nice enough to climb into the tree and bring me down the rest of the way. Don’t get me wrong, at the time, I didn’t think that Liran, the contractor was all that nice. Lucky for him, he was wearing gloves because I tried to take a chunk out of his hand. Mom was less lucky and has the beak marks to prove it. No matter how hard I tried to get away, mom wouldn’t let me go, no matter how hard I bit her. Now that’s love.

Quickly they put me into a smaller cage and brought me into Softa’s house. If anything like this happens again, mom is going to make sure that she takes a pillowcase with her. It’s much harder to bite through one of those. Hopefully, we will never be in this situation again.

I’m back in my cage. I have a couple of feathers that I still can’t get back into place, but other than that, I’m no worse for wear. Mom is seriously considering clipping my wings. It’s a very hard decision for her to make. After all, we are a house with 2 dogs and 2 cats in it. Mom likes that I have the ability to fly away from dangers in the house. What she didn’t count on is the dangers outside the house.

I’m not back at home yet because we are still painting, but I’m back in my cage, happy to be with all my toys and bed. Mom came to visit me tonight, to check me out and make sure that I am doing OK. It was really nice to see her. She didn’t take me out of my cage – I had enough of that until I get back home – but she pet me through the bars, and I must say, I was in heaven.

Pretzel, Quanah and Murphy meet!

Group Hug!

Hey there! This is Pretzel the Dippet (Dachshund/Whippet mix). I’ve been having a lot of fun with my new family. At first I was on my best behavior. You know, being quiet and not getting into any trouble. Now that I’m sure that people like me, I’ve been able to relax and have some fun. I’ve been found going through the garbage. I don’t get these cats that hang around here. There’s perfectly good garbage to go through, but they never do it. Mom says that she’s never had to worry about keeping it locked up before. She does now.

I have to say that those kitties scare me a bit. I’m a little dog, and they are just about my size. They have much sharper claws than I do and they can get around so fast. They make me nervous. When I first got here, they would arch their backs and spit at me for no reason at all. I would just be minding my own business and they would come up to me and give me a swat. Not friendly at all. I know cats. I grew up with cats at the JSPCA. These cats are prejudiced against dogs. I have my work teaching them that we can all get along and play together nicely. Omer’s ok (thanks man for letting me use your blog!), but Twitch and Snoopy are nasty!

I was so happy when mom introduced me to my extended family. Softa has dogs too. We got our first play date and we hit it off perfectly. I was nervous at first. After all, Quanah is the biggest German Shepherd that I’ve ever seen. She’s a beauty, but she’s also very intimidating. Murphy is Softa’s Pit Bull mix. She’s so fun loving and has so much energy!

In the beginning, everyone was kept on leashes. Mom and Softa weren’t sure how we’d take to each other. We met in a neutral place – a beautiful park a few blocks away. After the initial obligatory butt sniffing, we started to play together. I had so much fun. I can’t wait until the next time that we get to hang out together. Maybe mom will let them come over to play in the yard. That would be really fun!

Don’t tell Omer that I’ve taken over his blog. I just got out of my cage. Sure, mom let me out and plays with me all the time, but this time I flew the coop. When I say that I flew the coop, I mean I literally flew the coop.

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I’m a Sun Conure, and we’re a pretty smart bunch of birds. True, we’re not all that talkative – at least not in a way that you guys can understand. We can say about 5-6 different words if you are VERY patient with us. Since our vocabulary is so limited (except when blogging, of course), make sure that you pick the right ones. We’re pretty good at mimicing sounds. I like to throw my mom kisses in the morning. It makes her smile.

When I want something, I’m pretty good about getting the folks around me to perk up and take notice. I know that Omer talked about how loud I am. That’s not exactly fair. My type is from the rain forests, and it’s really hard to communicate there. I mean with all the moisture in the air and all the trees, our little voices get drowned out. We need to be loud in order to be heard. I’ve just gotten used to being that way. Sometimes when I sit on mom’s shoulder and give a squawk in her ear, her ear rings for a couple of minutes.  I don’t mean to do it, but it happens. She usually forgives me.

Uh-oh, I hear somebody coming down the hall. I better get back in my cage before they notice that I got out. After all, I don’t want to leave my amazing family, I just like to stretch the wings every so often. Feels good, but now I have to go home. Bye!

Omer Enjoying Himself

Loving Spring

I love the Spring. There are so many new buds on the trees. The grass has gone back to green, and the birds are chirping away outside. Life is really good. I get to go out, scratch some tree trunks, smell the flowers, eat some grass, and lie in the sun.

It’s at times like these that it’s important to remember other, less fortunate anipals. There’s a lot of mean stuff going on. I know some of it first hand. Last summer I got hit in the face with a BB. Mom found the guy, and made sure that he’d never do it again. There are bad people in the world.

I live in a very loving environment. Mom makes sure that I get food, water, attention and plenty love. There are a lot of animals that get abused or neglected by their humans. Strays get it pretty bad. No one would think to poke at homeless people in the street, but there are people that wouldn’t give a second thought to throwing rocks at a cat or dog in need of a home.

April is Prevention of Cruelty to Animals month. Orange is the offical color. Spread the word to others and wear orange to show you care. Check out The ASPCA’s page on “Helping Fight Animal Cruelty” to see what else you can do.

Sun Conure

Who me?

Lately, there has been this infernal squawking going around the house. The humans here are pretty loud, but that’s not who I’m talking about. It’s that bird brain, Shemesh, that just can’t keep her trap shut. Shemesh is a Sun Conure, and she makes sure that everyone knows it. Mom’s had other birds around before. Tweety, the Cockatiel, use to inhabit Shira’s (Mom’s oldest girl’s) room, but moved to Softa’s house for a long vacation, and liked it so much, never came home.

Mom has never heard anything like this before. And neither have I.  You know that our kitty hearing is very sensitive. As a matter of fact, us felines have better hearing than our canine counterparts. It’s just that you won’t see us stoop to performing silly hearing tricks. We’re way above that.

Shemesh has moved into Mom’s office for the time being. Zahava, Shemesh’s mom, is away a lot, so mom thought it would be nice to give Shemesh some company. It works nicely for Shemesh. Less nicely for the rest of us. I would have thought that Shemesh would try to blend in so that Mom would want to keep her around. I know that I don’t want her.

Snoopy has gone crazy. She’s dying to play with Shemesh, but mom won’t have it. If Snoopy gets too close, or looks too hungry, mom gives her a quick shoot with the spray bottle. Mom doesn’t really like to do it, but Snoopy has to learn. Me and Twitch couldn’t care less about the bird, minus the noise, of course.

Well, mom really likes Shemesh, and I think that the move is going to be permanent. She really is  a pretty bird. I wonder if they make kitty earplugs?

Meet "the Monster"

Hi everyone, Monster Murphy here. My mom added the monster to my name although I can’t understand why. So sometimes I get excited and break a few things. Or I get an urge to chew something, anything. Does that make me a monster?

Mom found me at an animal shelter about 4 months ago. She was looking for a calm, quiet dog to keep Quanah, her German Shepherd, company. I heard the people at the shelter telling her I fit the bill. But when we got home, I got so excited, I couldn’t control myself. So I like to run and I like to bark and I like to play…all the time. Sometimes mom gets angry at me, but I still love her so much. She lets me sleep with her and I cuddle close to protect her.

I know I’m a little naughty when I try to get Toto, mom’s little 16 year old terrier, to play. Toto really doesn’t want to play – she’s a fussy old lady, but I get her moving around.

Mom also has a cockatiel, Tweety. When I jump on his cage to play wih him, he gets all excited and starts flapping his wings. I think that means he wants to play with me, but mom won’t let him out of the cage.

I hope Omer lets me write about more of my adventures. I’m being trained, but I don’t always understand the trainer. Tell you all about it next time.

Mom has never had a horse for a pet. When she was a little girl she used to dream of getting a horse. She used to doodle horse pictures on any available paper and may have had the entire collection of The Black Stallion book series. She grew up in Queens, New York, so all she could do was covet them from afar.

We don’t live in the city. Today, on mom’s morning walk, she came across this cutie:

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New Arrival

This little fellow was born about a month a go to the neighbor’s mare. No, mom is not going to get a horse as a pet. She has her hands full with me and the girls (Snoopy, Twitch and Shemesh), not to mention the other humans in the house, but it always makes her smile to see them.

On The Pet Wiki, we have a couple new users that have been adding their horse pics to the site. Check out the Horses and Ponies page. You’ll see a slide show of Ted’s babies. On the American Paint Horse page, meet Toby, Laura’s love.

Do you have any horse pictures or stories that you’d like to share?

I like birds. Not as much as tuna, but it’s pretty close for making a great afternoon snack. Wouldn’t you know it. Mom loves me so much that she bought me a Sun Conure. They’re calling the bird Shemesh, which I find very odd. Why are they naming lunch? Last time they ate a turkey, they didn’t call it anything. Tuna has always been just tuna. I’m not sure that I’ll ever understand humans.

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Shemesh, the Sun Conure. Lunch?

Shemesh is pretty small, but makes up for it with her VERY loud screeching. That’s how I found out that there was a bird in the house. I was taking a cat nap (I am a cat, after all), and I heard this God awful noise coming out of the little girl’s room. The door was shut, so I couldn’t confirm my suspicions until she took it out for a showing.

For about an hour or so, mom takes Shemesh’s cage out for a viewing. I guess that we are supposed to watch them fatten her up for me. She doesn’t let us get too close to the bird. If we come within a couple of feet, out comes the water spray bottle. I guess she’s just teaching us kitties to be patient.

Snoopy has a harder time of it. Snoopy cries, she wants to get at Shemesh so badly. You know, that eek-eek noise that some cats make. Even Snoopy gives up after a few tries. Water and cats just don’t mix.

Hey, wait a minute – they gave it a name! Does that mean that they expect to keep the bird as a member of the family? That can’t be, can it? I guess that I got use to Snoopy, I could get used to anything. I guess that I’ll just need to get some kitty ear plugs so that Shemesh doesn’t disturb any more of my naps.

I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but I don’t like dogs. I know, I’m a cat and a lot of cats (not all) just don’t like having dogs around. For me, it goes further than that. Just the smell of dog fur puts a shiver down my spine, all the way down to the tip of my tail.

Softa came to visit the other day, and who did she bring with her? Her new pup, Murphy.

Deceivingly Innocent Looking

Deceivingly Innocent Looking

Murphy, named after Mets first baseman, Daniel Murphy, is the dog she got at the animal shelter. When Softa got her, Dr. Susan at the animal shelter said tht she was a calm dog. Not the case. Maybe she was calm when she was there, but since she’s come to live with Softa, she’s been hell on wheels. Softa can’t leave her alone for more than a bit. Hence the visit to my house.

Softa thinks that Murphy is part Whippet. She definitely has the temperment of a Whippet. She can’t sit still for a minute and she chews everything. That included Shira’s shoes, the couch and the telephone, to name a few of the items that she has stuck her teeth in. (Shira’s shoes will never be the same, but Softa was able to salvage the couch and phone.)

At least the humans keep the Murphster (as the boy, Ari likes to call her) outside. They tried letting her in, but I wouldn’t have it. You know it’s important to set boundaries with your people. If they try it again, I may need to take a wrapped up newspaper and give them a light swat on the nose. I’ve heard that that can do wonders.

Softa has started training Murphy. Murphy is starting to pick up on it a bit. The problem is that she is so ADD. All that needs to go down is a butterfly has to fly by and she’s off after it. Softa is going to need a lot of patience with this one.

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