tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70338622024-03-18T21:11:43.360-07:00DRatschatsDothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-83677653417166624962012-06-07T20:23:00.004-07:002012-06-07T21:14:54.165-07:00<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVkl6fLWhhS0YUWuKd2KowR_om1Bm8UOPHg0DY8Sd3U6gg9zIRnRx1I3EvEn5ukLV-SsVs0pGYAidaUxWxp26L5cKR7BfBBKx3WwkH6Q_Dah7E0cYVT9Hmm5DatNrlpXlC7gECtg/s1600/54753-Royalty-Free-RF-Clip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVkl6fLWhhS0YUWuKd2KowR_om1Bm8UOPHg0DY8Sd3U6gg9zIRnRx1I3EvEn5ukLV-SsVs0pGYAidaUxWxp26L5cKR7BfBBKx3WwkH6Q_Dah7E0cYVT9Hmm5DatNrlpXlC7gECtg/s1600/54753-Royalty-Free-RF-Clip.jpg" /></a> Awake at 6:30 on a Sunday morning! Not in my plans to be up this early but nature called, as did several little dogs. So, there I was, in the midst of something that, at my age, can't be stopped all that easily, when I saw a flash of movement on the floor. I knew immediately what it was but could not move from where I sat. My first instinct, after lifting my feet off the floor, was to scream, "SCOOTER" followed by "MOUSIE". Then, as the small creature scurried along in front of the sink, I tried yelling "TRICKI! DUCKY! DOGS! COME HERE!". As the mouse scampered around the doorway of the bathroom and started down the hall, I finally concluded my business and scrambled to my bare feet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw96ly3WcnvsH-7LJaENFauoeOq8PuLd0_vQltHsIJL2s0kiOviwJyTxTnQHocxlGQLti9dGW8q2ecs7VJRwlclnYtBBkWDCxK0asxfUCDzzXBFAPqHAWwmy1i1jrKx9xxbslPfQ/s1600/scoot-duck+sleep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw96ly3WcnvsH-7LJaENFauoeOq8PuLd0_vQltHsIJL2s0kiOviwJyTxTnQHocxlGQLti9dGW8q2ecs7VJRwlclnYtBBkWDCxK0asxfUCDzzXBFAPqHAWwmy1i1jrKx9xxbslPfQ/s320/scoot-duck+sleep.jpg" width="320" /></a>There was a time when my shouts would have elicited a stampede of little paws, running to see what varmint I had spotted. Scooter would have led the charge, ready to do battle with any mouse that dared cross her path. Today, however, when I dashed back into the bedroom for shoes, I found a half dozen bleary eyed dogs, staring at me. Scooter, whose head was just poked out from under the covers, blinked at me as if to ask what all the ruckus was about at this time of day. <br />
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Twelve years ago, Scooter was just a year old and that summer mice invaded the bird-room, which was closed off while the birds enjoyed their outdoor aviary. When I walked into the room, I knew instantly that there was a problem and in short order I discovered that a mouse had selected an empty bird box for her nest and was working on litter number two. There were 16 or more mice in that room, counting the litter of hairless little babies!<br />
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That day, I truly saw instinct in action. To my knowledge, Scooter had never seen a mouse before that day but I was frantic, trying to figure out how to deal with a mass of mice that I knew would erupt as soon as I moved the disturbed the box. I decided that if Rat Terriers were "designed" to hunt rodents, it was worth trying Scooter as a solution tho the horde. I brought Scooter into the room, closed the door and shook the box the entire family was living in. Mice poured out and took off in every direction. So did Scooter!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi34q6K63NC6gnM_Ygxn38Cw1O08HMlbfA9kQavXMCgbeirzgusWu3OPSjrDraMXRFP_n9XUT2XRdW5ALJHXFgWKcGII6UVz2mJ8ZeJnPXeIU3blqR4Njk-Jjfnn7fszECfYWS8Q/s1600/k2388827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi34q6K63NC6gnM_Ygxn38Cw1O08HMlbfA9kQavXMCgbeirzgusWu3OPSjrDraMXRFP_n9XUT2XRdW5ALJHXFgWKcGII6UVz2mJ8ZeJnPXeIU3blqR4Njk-Jjfnn7fszECfYWS8Q/s1600/k2388827.jpg" /></a>That little dog was a whirlwind, she raced from one side of that room to the other, snapping up a mouse, dropping it and going after the next. She got so excited that a couple times as she ran past one she had already killed, she would grab it up and bite it again. Except for the little pinkies in the box, Scooter cleared that room of mice in less than 5 minutes. She kept hunting for another 10 minutes and for the rest of the day she would go check the room every hour or so, I suppose just in case she missed something. Scooter remained an amazing hunter until last year, wherever we went, all I had to do was say, "find a mousie" and she would set off, searching corners and crevices for the scent of prey.<br />
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Last year Scooter had what appeared to be a stroke. She had another a few months later. She made a fair recovery and is still my buddy but she can't see well and today I learned she can't hunt anymore, either. She just looked confused when I told her to find a mousie. It's sad to see her losing her edge with age although she doesn't seem to be concerned about it. She would rather stare at me these days, hoping I called her so I could give her a treat. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8v7r2OcmPuaMPXgEv3wWYczJpwmsHFs1_Y9UEpapRKIHBMhYfOfWVFk7ICJ6P4V7sn5gpubeVp5w6MGX4rPh1uPNZgMOKsoBKCpJPJZBlGE8plUb5rWRzrN7oJOcuxIsrvurwA/s1600/kitty+visitor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8v7r2OcmPuaMPXgEv3wWYczJpwmsHFs1_Y9UEpapRKIHBMhYfOfWVFk7ICJ6P4V7sn5gpubeVp5w6MGX4rPh1uPNZgMOKsoBKCpJPJZBlGE8plUb5rWRzrN7oJOcuxIsrvurwA/s320/kitty+visitor.jpg" width="320" /></a>Of concern for me is that there is no successor in sight. All my guys are around the same age and Scooter was the only one who ever took a real interest in hunting mice. For me, this means I either have to start setting some traps or risk having tiny furry paws running across my toes when I get up in the wee hours of the morning. I suppose we will muster on. It just happens that a cat was dumped in the neighborhood this week and she has taken up residence on my porch. Perhaps she would be interested in hunting? Or, she may just sit and stare at me, waiting for food. <br />
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BTW, I didn't give Scooter the babies to kill, dumb part of the story, I raised the babies on an eyedropper then took them FAR away from any houses and released them when they were old enough to forage.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-56484973701515530322011-10-29T22:09:00.000-07:002011-10-30T23:02:44.742-07:00Lazy Autumn Nights<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Fall is officially here in the Lewis establishment. The furnace came on this morning, although I thought it was turned off. Turns out I had just turned it down so when it got down to 58^, it kicked on. I usually try to see how late we can go before turning it on, made it to Thanksgiving a couple times. BRRR! It was getting a little chilly in here by then. <br />
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The fun part about cool nights is packing into the library, where the computer is, turning on the "stove" which looks like it is burning and puts out a nice warm breeze. The dogs love when the stove goes on because they can curl up in front of it and get all toasty. They become less like a pack of terriers than a herd of slugs when the heat is on. </div>
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On winter mornings, when I get ready for a shower, I turn on a little electric heater in the bathroom to warm it up before jumping in. Long ago, my "kids" learned what it means when I holler "bathroom". When they hear that word, they run into the bathroom and cluster in front of the heater, on the bath rug. The trick is to find a place to put my feet when I get done. I have to slip my feet between little dog bodies to get out onto the floor again. There are a couple who volunteer to help me "dry off" by licking the water drops off my ankles. When the really cold weather comes, they don't want to leave the bathroom when I'm done, until I turn off the heater, then they are ready to go. </div>
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Now that I'm retired, I should have plenty of hours to sit in the warm library with the dogs. I can listen to "old time radio" on the computer, while working on my blogs. Gunsmoke is my favorite. Could it be any better than that?<br />
Sweet dreams fur buddies. </div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-27712335797240899292011-10-19T18:48:00.000-07:002011-10-22T23:54:29.198-07:00GOLDEN YEARS!<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uRWh83gtRbzkqSuK4m65ygoWxOI-YDL1PHX4IWQmWQFegJRbLtHOGTTd3FCZ8Tmmv1cUr6Nv4E5WjYj-e6-YYMuuGx3kxHb8BflyBQHshaiyNzauMndmtczNahtNf2D9I9rJ8w/s1600/scoot+8-11.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 229px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666531342067613010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uRWh83gtRbzkqSuK4m65ygoWxOI-YDL1PHX4IWQmWQFegJRbLtHOGTTd3FCZ8Tmmv1cUr6Nv4E5WjYj-e6-YYMuuGx3kxHb8BflyBQHshaiyNzauMndmtczNahtNf2D9I9rJ8w/s320/scoot+8-11.jpg" /></a>My little Scooter, my April Fools baby, now in her autumn years. She was such a little whirlwind when she came to me. She is a Rat Terrier/Jack Russell Terrier cross but she got the look of a Rat Terrier. Fortunately, she got most of her personality from that side of the family as well. She was active but not insanely so and she has always loved to cuddle, sometimes for hours.<br /><br /><br /><div>When she was just a puppy, she would run, FAST! She would tuck her puppy butt under and go so fast she would run into things and bounce off, like a pinball. She reminded me of the '70s cartoon car, Speed Buggy. How all that translated into naming her Scooter, I don't know but whenever I watched her run, I had an irrisistable urge to call out, "scoot, scoot, scoot, scoot" in a fast, high, squeaky voice. Even now, if I scratch her butt and say this to her, she will take off at a run, butt under. She did eventually learn to not run into things. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Scooter was a natural born hunter. She showed an early talent and passion for hunting mice. When she was barely a year old, mice took over the birdroom while the birds were outside for the summer. Trying to set the cat on the full litter of nearly grown mice and their mom was a lost cause. The cat figured he better run because he wasn't normally allowed in the birdroom. In a panic over how to deal with 8-9 mice before they could locate shelter outside the room, I called in Scooter. The girl looked for only a moment at that first mouse then she was off and running.<br />Scooter spun through the room in pursuit of the mice which had scattered everywhere as she came in. She would grab, bite, drop and go after the next one. She got so excited by the hunt that as she crossed the room, searching for more prey, she would grab one she already killed and bite it again. It was amazing to watch. She had never seen a mouse before. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvazvRdmqERnTlTpt_0ReGuqnlf7L5mEXoSPMKuimzVLn_a1ySKW8WSP_jcOdML9Ct3DsQPpf3-VupWEiStsvwoKy_PRXKRXmuRJZwS-gNtqf7ayJrGnWYjwBQkxD8CiS4sL_mQ/s1600/scoot+%2526+pb+jar.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666531728658106258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvazvRdmqERnTlTpt_0ReGuqnlf7L5mEXoSPMKuimzVLn_a1ySKW8WSP_jcOdML9Ct3DsQPpf3-VupWEiStsvwoKy_PRXKRXmuRJZwS-gNtqf7ayJrGnWYjwBQkxD8CiS4sL_mQ/s320/scoot+%2526+pb+jar.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>She was not taught to hunt by her mom as her mom was afraid of mice. Pretty silly for a Rat Terrier but when she was a pup her owner presented her with a baby mouse in a bucket to "hunt". Unfortunately for this potential mouse hunter, the mouse was braver than the dog. It bit her on the nose, she jumped away and from that point on, she would have nothing to do with chasing mice. </div><br /><div>Now having passed her 13th birthday, Scooter is still quick but last year she suffered from idiopathic vestibular disease, sometimes called "Old dog vestibular disease". When it first hit her, she was in the yard and suddenly she was stumbling, falling and walking sideways. When I picked her up, her eyes were flashing back and forth and she couldn't hold her head still. She went to the vet, the answer there was devastating. The vet said this was generally a symptom of a brain tumor. When I brought up the IVD, he said it is possible but probably something more ominous. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzOgNgS496hh_-Obk1FvbfB04k09pYWYdQXrkkdExn4ITmIi_VKsrgcuyY42gqNVVvKbvrhbzAhPcQLlbzaVduSLE1wKmY3y3N-ntmpnpsSI3jlWUlLHocsqWZu4Nze1hytRL3A/s1600/scoot2+8-11.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 246px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666574987328847762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzOgNgS496hh_-Obk1FvbfB04k09pYWYdQXrkkdExn4ITmIi_VKsrgcuyY42gqNVVvKbvrhbzAhPcQLlbzaVduSLE1wKmY3y3N-ntmpnpsSI3jlWUlLHocsqWZu4Nze1hytRL3A/s320/scoot2+8-11.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div>I could be referred to someplace where tests could be done to determine more but the vet was not optomistic about the final outcome. This meant going 6 hours away from home, being away from the rescue pack and then having to decide what I would do if it was a tumor. In the end, I decided to wait at least a few days to see what happened with her condition. This turned out to be a good choice. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>After about 48 hours, Scooter's eyes quit flicking and she was able to balance better. She stopped tipping over and with that came a more relaxed demeanor. Gradually, over the next few days she returned to almost normal, which at this point is grey faced, arthritic, blind in one eye and nearly deaf. She still carries her head tipped to one side and this looks a little comical sometimes but other times it just looks sweet and quisical. I am so glad it turned out this way, I hate to see my little ones growing grey and stiff but I really am not ready for them to start getting the terminal conditions that can come with old age. </div></div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-18814058378147373992011-09-25T19:46:00.000-07:002011-09-25T21:11:38.150-07:00Visible pets.....finally<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWQFfjir6ipD_511hbmuyc6f1BKtqM0Vb7YmhUVi5OMbCdUOJ6jj6E7F2ewHBwUbmsnxfhAJwMKnR7OVDV-aascS-jLz-aMn3QbJXlnk0mcrlG2_HUxaOS438RwWRSTHfJGoeMw/s1600/Midas.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656495549325340754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWQFfjir6ipD_511hbmuyc6f1BKtqM0Vb7YmhUVi5OMbCdUOJ6jj6E7F2ewHBwUbmsnxfhAJwMKnR7OVDV-aascS-jLz-aMn3QbJXlnk0mcrlG2_HUxaOS438RwWRSTHfJGoeMw/s320/Midas.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Finally, an update on my formerly invisible pets. The little fish actually look like fish now.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWQFfjir6ipD_511hbmuyc6f1BKtqM0Vb7YmhUVi5OMbCdUOJ6jj6E7F2ewHBwUbmsnxfhAJwMKnR7OVDV-aascS-jLz-aMn3QbJXlnk0mcrlG2_HUxaOS438RwWRSTHfJGoeMw/s1600/Midas.jpg"></a><br /><br />Despite having all hatched within the same 24 hour period, they now range in size from about a half inch to probably close to an inch and a half. Only one has come into his color so far, that is the biggest, named Midas. The second largest one, called Carat, is bronze colored but should turn gold before long.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWQFfjir6ipD_511hbmuyc6f1BKtqM0Vb7YmhUVi5OMbCdUOJ6jj6E7F2ewHBwUbmsnxfhAJwMKnR7OVDV-aascS-jLz-aMn3QbJXlnk0mcrlG2_HUxaOS438RwWRSTHfJGoeMw/s1600/Midas.jpg"></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGV_o2PpVMQUVZKGMCGcrtyDjn-KygtDveinbnFMwDYa6LNhCclgl2aTKQhgnOuLGYvEUgAJDozK8F3THLi-ACwqvpFWzG23Tji5u3bCe3XBv2QGY39d4ErkAqn7rGp-PoTzAfyA/s1600/midas-karat+-+little+goldies.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656495373744002834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGV_o2PpVMQUVZKGMCGcrtyDjn-KygtDveinbnFMwDYa6LNhCclgl2aTKQhgnOuLGYvEUgAJDozK8F3THLi-ACwqvpFWzG23Tji5u3bCe3XBv2QGY39d4ErkAqn7rGp-PoTzAfyA/s320/midas-karat+-+little+goldies.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWQFfjir6ipD_511hbmuyc6f1BKtqM0Vb7YmhUVi5OMbCdUOJ6jj6E7F2ewHBwUbmsnxfhAJwMKnR7OVDV-aascS-jLz-aMn3QbJXlnk0mcrlG2_HUxaOS438RwWRSTHfJGoeMw/s1600/Midas.jpg"></a><br /><br />There appears to be a natural process that prevents overcrowding, besides the one where the parents eat as many of the eggs as they can find. Over time a large number of little fish just died off.<br /><br />There are only 11 fish now and the smallest one is so little I am still not sure he will grow up. None of them are big enough to rejoin the "parental" group. I hope by next spring they will be able to swim with the big fishies, although most of them will go live in the country in a friend's stock tank. They keep down mosquitoes and adding more than one extra to my little pond would probably too much.<br />It was kind of fun raising some of them but I doubt I will get real excited about doing it again.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-58255723885693660852011-09-24T21:32:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:20:20.036-07:00Quilt 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCsvznEn9yoyeLcIt0E0NyX_6F5mDsTKlMEjH4SS2__cwTR97xxtZWF4BJEU_1t5WkRMArDRGamm2AgcMz_68o5N4nJwa1woFJp8l4Zp3YrQIdb6fXSV_y5Oa_KpdSG9F1mk2xA/s1600/center+eye.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 136px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656151400309937154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCsvznEn9yoyeLcIt0E0NyX_6F5mDsTKlMEjH4SS2__cwTR97xxtZWF4BJEU_1t5WkRMArDRGamm2AgcMz_68o5N4nJwa1woFJp8l4Zp3YrQIdb6fXSV_y5Oa_KpdSG9F1mk2xA/s200/center+eye.jpg" /></a><br />The Ratbone Rescues quilt for 2011 is finished and is now in the process of finding a new home. It came out pretty nice, at least I think so. So many lovely blocks were made by volunteers. I made the center block, a Columbus Day block, Memorial Day block, Christmas block and a Halloween block. <br /><br />I really have enjoyed doing the applique work. I hadn't really <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnZdFRIDPpJfY0DiadsM6ju7rsr82CMGx4_gOyPj2CJqlLS64Q0Usr_zEXIX-knIok__EqVBRAWxeolJKFSZq9Sf-NMCQxzRl_ZAZNB1def-UFq5JlVfquIlDKfdBocY-4rP2Hg/s1600/done2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 299px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656152467220498354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnZdFRIDPpJfY0DiadsM6ju7rsr82CMGx4_gOyPj2CJqlLS64Q0Usr_zEXIX-knIok__EqVBRAWxeolJKFSZq9Sf-NMCQxzRl_ZAZNB1def-UFq5JlVfquIlDKfdBocY-4rP2Hg/s320/done2.jpg" /></a>tried anything like that until I started doing blocks for the rescue quilt. The neat thing about the applique is the artistry in it, even though at this point, for me it is a craft. Perhaps eventually I will create truly original designs, so far I have used photos for my designs. I did modify the image for the center block, making the puppy several weeks younger than the one in the actual picture.<br /><br />The quilt is big enough for a queen sized bed and should be nice and warm. The binding is done in the burgundy color used in the center block. Each pieced star block was done by a Ratbone member and her mom in a long weekend. The quilter put <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2d6ioKJI3i8mtA-SrSiTNSl-evAcF1r9eWYqm_sEsocEJ1Znk_DapprysjKnAmzWPSm5GGmSYKNZ_pC35oaEvmdlTNByL7BNJx9UvjbCgv-7-PhxjxBLKuMMLVLStdCSCs-EfA/s1600/big+block+done1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656151399077179458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2d6ioKJI3i8mtA-SrSiTNSl-evAcF1r9eWYqm_sEsocEJ1Znk_DapprysjKnAmzWPSm5GGmSYKNZ_pC35oaEvmdlTNByL7BNJx9UvjbCgv-7-PhxjxBLKuMMLVLStdCSCs-EfA/s200/big+block+done1.jpg" /></a>little stars in each little white square in the corners of those blocks. <br /><br />I do hope this beautiful quilt raises a lot of money for our rescue. A lot of expense goes with rescue and it is rare to find a legitimate rescue that is not in the red most of the time. Takes a lot of fundraisers to keep up with the cost of vet care for 100+ dogs at a time. <br /><br /><br /><div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-52651483363958605812011-09-15T20:41:00.000-07:002011-09-15T21:06:39.503-07:00<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gdUQqfPwGG9Lixm64FvCOkNHZuKvOQpoKJy2ArHUqQZeKZwbbYlDy7Id85fgANhp1l_M0v6cLTXUrvOxfedCYEKUUJVcDz3xbEJ5-m_iFhKuqKcsbM20jbMi1PlMxhZ8XlI5Hw/s1600/wtc_forget.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652799024858902242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gdUQqfPwGG9Lixm64FvCOkNHZuKvOQpoKJy2ArHUqQZeKZwbbYlDy7Id85fgANhp1l_M0v6cLTXUrvOxfedCYEKUUJVcDz3xbEJ5-m_iFhKuqKcsbM20jbMi1PlMxhZ8XlI5Hw/s200/wtc_forget.jpg" /></a> At this writing, it is early morning, September 11, 2011, the 10th anniversary of 9/11. For the past week TV programming has been full of stories about that historic day and it's aftermath. Millions of Americans will forever remember exactly what they were doing that morning in September, 2001 and for the rest of their lives, many will feel an ache in their heart when they recall it. Americans pulled together that day and heroes emerged from clouds of dust. One tiny little hero, special to the hearts of Ratbone members, was Ricky, a Rat Terrier Search And Rescue (SAR)dog from Washington.<br /><br />Ricky, who lived with the Linker family, was not a shy dog. He jumped, ran, chewed things up and fetched until day's end, although he would not give up the ball. He could bark continuously, for what seemed like hours. But when people were trapped and dying, these were the traits that put Ricky in demand. At two years old, Ricky could climb ladders, run complex patterns on command and differentiate between the living and the dead. On June 17, 2000, Ricky attained his Basic Level certification after proving he could search through piles of concrete at a site half the size of a baseball field, finding three victims in less than 10 minutes, unfazed by bulldozers, jackhammers, cats in cages, and dirty laundry, set up as distractions. Even so, the carnage at the World Trade Center site pushed Ricky's abilities beyond anything he'd ever experienced.<br /><br />At 17" and less than 18 pounds, Ricky would not let his small size deterred him from his duties at "the pile". In fact, his size, compared to most SAR dogs, worked to his advantage. Ricky was <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SJA6TaiekEp22b9PF5TMW__IvU-3bGQgsEtuTTSKUjgKAMo9l-Y93fvwLOgce06PG59LyvJNOWchX3B-vs-nJHYTjyiITAVDiZx6s1X8zQx9p9WFPygDZcs0yzS9HC1ad2sXmg/s1600/ricky.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 194px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 235px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652799453893350002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SJA6TaiekEp22b9PF5TMW__IvU-3bGQgsEtuTTSKUjgKAMo9l-Y93fvwLOgce06PG59LyvJNOWchX3B-vs-nJHYTjyiITAVDiZx6s1X8zQx9p9WFPygDZcs0yzS9HC1ad2sXmg/s200/ricky.jpg" /></a>able to squeeze into holes that other dogs and robots were too large to navigate. Ricky and his trainer, Janet Linker of the Seattle Fire Department, searched the ruins for ten September days, helping to locate the bodies of several victims. "There were a few situations where we had to climb underneath metal beams, and the space just kept getting smaller and smaller," said Janet, who worked with Northwest Disaster Search Dogs.<br /><br />Janet and Ricky worked closely with another SAR pair, Kent Olson and his Golden Retriever, Thunder, fellow members of NDSD, to locate several victims in the rubble, among them a firefighter and a policeman. The two dogs' abilities meshed well, Ricky could wriggle into tight spots that 64 pound Thunder could not manage, and Thunder, a more experienced dog would verify Ricky's finds. When Ricky found a body, he would signal by standing very still, looking at his handler intently with his fur standing up; Thunder would confirm the find by lying down as his signal to his partner. Rescuers then knew exactly where to dig. Both dogs' signaled a "live find" with a bark, but unfortunately they never had the chance to give that signal.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-YNXs2JNSlH6p3Sf2-EwC0LB8oHZBDqVoMPdl3wm4hoNFHZB0Hx3U9a4Y9M15FHqPUvYZvwkbPoDmvi6gSJhqYN_hx0i4V2kYeV20z2GR_wI4UYLtv_QhFRFrB__ZC6jluDkU6Q/s1600/ricky+9-11+s%2526r+dog.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 157px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652799961768727666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-YNXs2JNSlH6p3Sf2-EwC0LB8oHZBDqVoMPdl3wm4hoNFHZB0Hx3U9a4Y9M15FHqPUvYZvwkbPoDmvi6gSJhqYN_hx0i4V2kYeV20z2GR_wI4UYLtv_QhFRFrB__ZC6jluDkU6Q/s200/ricky+9-11+s%2526r+dog.jpg" /></a><br />On Sep. 29 after almost two weeks, Ricky and Janet were called off the job and returned to their home in Auburn, Washington. Ricky has been retired from SAR work and now spends his time being a loving member of the Linker family. The nation owes it to Ricky to always remember the work of he and his fellow Search And Rescue dogs. These amazing dogs and their handlers deserve a place in history for all their efforts in the days following the attack on the World Trade Center.<br /><br />We at Ratbone Rescues THANK Ricky and all the other rescue workers, human and canine, for all they did for America and we REMEMBER those who died that day and in the years since, in defense of America. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This article was originally written for the Ratbone Barker, newsletter for Ratbone Rescues. I'm the editor and one of the writers. Please feel free to sign up for the newsletter if you would like to read more of the articles about our delightful Rat Terriers. </div> http://oi.vresp.com/?fid=3a0bacaa77Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-7056122879115902132011-06-04T21:49:00.000-07:002011-06-04T22:54:09.387-07:00Invisible pets?I tried to take pictures of my new "pets" but since they are nearly invisible at this time, the best I <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEP7j02fmxk5Rkx9kS1623Ro_qLr38K6qhOCvo2P60Lkalkh-9F8dYYYz7EKtd73g4kjzEeIcElUqa1faVD7RsHbr9OuatvvSeFqGRq1QoisKGzjVFcCJuZZCxJYYZ2iCk9SHqzg/s1600/IMG_1135.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614594098353296466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEP7j02fmxk5Rkx9kS1623Ro_qLr38K6qhOCvo2P60Lkalkh-9F8dYYYz7EKtd73g4kjzEeIcElUqa1faVD7RsHbr9OuatvvSeFqGRq1QoisKGzjVFcCJuZZCxJYYZ2iCk9SHqzg/s320/IMG_1135.JPG" /></a>could get was some shells and gravel. The new critters are baby goldfish and I mean real babies, like just hatched last week. My 4 goldfish got very excited about the addition of live, floating plants to their pond a couple weeks ago. Within a couple days they had deposited eggs among the roots of the plants. Since they then set about eating any eggs they located, I took one of the plants out and put it in a bucket. In less than a week, I looked in the bucket and saw what could have passed for mosquito larvae but they didn't wiggle the same way. The first couple days I had to look really closely and all I could really see were two tiny dots, followed by a 1/4" thread like line. The rest of each tiny fish was transparent. <br />Now that a week has passed, they resemble minnows but VERY small. I can make out little heads holding their tiny eyes and their bodies are more visible now. Maybe in another week I will be able to get pictures where they actually show up.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-67922790904068271622011-01-26T19:36:00.000-08:002011-03-17T13:42:45.013-07:00This is Howie DoIt!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHpUUM-jRecf53bBj4IYSaP0IPs7_UlsonoraTYR80W05-aTvX07SjLDoLquQ_qF-TRyILUh8XE2nJcQDg3zHD0sdIiPdYUOVdSScB0to6sEFp9ywTaUSH1-8Sz62HlGJkn6wFA/s1600/howlie+coat.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 249px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566705175567876514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHpUUM-jRecf53bBj4IYSaP0IPs7_UlsonoraTYR80W05-aTvX07SjLDoLquQ_qF-TRyILUh8XE2nJcQDg3zHD0sdIiPdYUOVdSScB0to6sEFp9ywTaUSH1-8Sz62HlGJkn6wFA/s320/howlie+coat.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />Meet Howie Ratdel! A total babe.......<br /><br />Maybe that is total baby. Howie is a sweetheart of a dog but what a spoiled bRat he is. He is a tiny little guy with tiny little legs and tiny little paws which HATE being wet or cold. He really doesn't think a tiny little dog should be forced to go out in the cold, although he will go outside when he really needs to. Just don't forget to let him right back in after he has attended to his business.<br /><br />He like coats and sweaters, they keep his little hairless chest warm, although they may itch after a while, then he will roll around on the floor, sliding them out of place. His truest joy however, is being held. He prefers to be under covers or under a shirt but will settle for just being held if he is dressed warmly. He will nod off as soon as he gets comfortable and warm. He <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56jGZtaQZXEt9coTwvQsuJHgoFrea15BlegCbsG0DGaPdWlTWbShUyvA6EsZnQnbjqnOZJsSEeiER_FuFh-m_24tHUSr_HRG9eRjfjRoNqyexT1Cekh_bvhmZT-KAWQtz99od4g/s1600/howlie+out.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 193px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 217px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573050285394871474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56jGZtaQZXEt9coTwvQsuJHgoFrea15BlegCbsG0DGaPdWlTWbShUyvA6EsZnQnbjqnOZJsSEeiER_FuFh-m_24tHUSr_HRG9eRjfjRoNqyexT1Cekh_bvhmZT-KAWQtz99od4g/s320/howlie+out.jpg" /></a>immediately took to getting inside my shirt whenever I would sit down. During cold weather, if I would wear a robe he would ride around inside the front of it, the belt keeping him from dropping out the bottom. Shirts, those are a little harder for him to stay in when I stand up. <br /><br />He is the (almost) the definition of a pocket pup. He is a little big for a regular pocket but stuff him inside a shirt or under a blanket and he will cuddle for hours. Better than a hot water bottle, he never goes cold and is cheaper to operate than a heating pad, plus, he's cordless.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGP-o1lJ97ppZhZ6L2tk29mTY7O_PjX_MIfcDyU8xbZo9yqdMAMGWYG_v8rnR1AJxbfiRuVhgf84rpPXH18Jg4iCTVWtioZH5rXqGQ3xoCZz4sn4x1xgmA1PkRux2G2qd-sRmrkQ/s1600/howlie+snooze.jpg"></a>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-30480256709083586672010-11-26T18:41:00.000-08:002010-11-26T19:17:59.142-08:00What will become of me?I used to be someone's friend. I was loved and taken care of. I slept in bed with my person, I had my own bowl and toys and I could curl up on my person's lap and be petted. Then I ended up in a cage, in a "shelter". <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3B6L8da7EdbCbRngBvSAOmpEa_JbwZdtyN33clksw50fNqv1aHhpojjuiXagBWV1Ny13YYE3BK8cizUQIbMDBKDFN4r1cOS4YIcD0xXfyHZVq83D8CI5onZINeEKPiqdZmeRWkw/s1600/Sad+Bill.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 209px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544055185875425650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3B6L8da7EdbCbRngBvSAOmpEa_JbwZdtyN33clksw50fNqv1aHhpojjuiXagBWV1Ny13YYE3BK8cizUQIbMDBKDFN4r1cOS4YIcD0xXfyHZVq83D8CI5onZINeEKPiqdZmeRWkw/s320/Sad+Bill.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It may be shelter, there is a bed, there is food and it is not so cold as it<span class="text_exposed_hide">...</span><span class="text_exposed_show"> was outside but it is not a home! I'm scared here! It's noisy, there are lots of big dogs and when night comes, I have to sleep all alone with no one to tell me everything is OK. What will happen to me now? Will I ever have a lap to sit on again or someone to hug me and let me sleep under their covers? Will I ever have a home again? Will someone help me? </span><br /><span class="text_exposed_show"><br />For Mr. Bill, things are looking up. He was rescued from the shelter by Ratbone Rescues. He will be neutered and cared for and loved by a foster mom until a new, loving family can be found for him. For Mr. Bill, there is hope! For thousands of others there is none! Every year, thousands of dogs and cats don't make it out of shelters because there is no place for them to go. Please help! Have your pet spayed or neutered. Adopt your next pet from a shelter. Join or support rescue in their efforts to make a difference for other's like Mr. Bill.<br /></span><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /><br /><span class="UIStory_Message"><span class="text_exposed_show"></span></span><br /></span>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-9329841855519784182010-10-23T21:01:00.000-07:002010-10-23T22:35:56.339-07:00Calamity or just Klutz?<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 274px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531471872152026514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNq7tyI3zObV5UNeFeMe3n9c1Zv5PHRBgA0y2IoZGlxGK3SLdZ_xE-OCRaoUgZdAYLfOVsoGv9SvR2npqSJ4wJW0jyr8BG8zsN_Z8jIVqsexRDHv3mtMKk7Oj-wvYgz-QhvuX_3w/s320/sockhead.JPG" />It's becoming rather routine, if there is an accident happening, Mommy is going to be involved. I may have hit on something when she first arrived as my "accidental" rescue, having turned out to be a Jack Russell Terrier instead of a Rat Terrier. She has been the victim of one calamity after another.<br /><br />The first was when she stuck her head under the board fence in pursuit of a toad and got stuck. While she was constrained, the pack, quick to fall upon the helpless, attacked, biting her mercilessly. This incident was very nearly the end of her, she spent a couple days in the doggy hospital and was on meds for weeks to combat the infections. For a while Mommy wore a sock on her neck and head to cover the huge open wound that developed from tissue damage done by the fence. Amazingly, she recovered completely, the wound pulled together and she was left with only a narrow scar around the back of her neck.<br /><br />After healing, she went to spend a week with my father, whose old dog died last spring, to see if she would be a good pet for him. She proved to be more than he could handle but while visiting, she wrapped her lead around a cedar tree while out to potty and most likely impaled herself on a broken branch. She returned with a quarter sized lump on her chest from infection around the hole. Back on antibiotics and wound cleaning to deal with this injury which quickly healed.<br /><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqLtehO7O7D2tTHrIy0qmvXjID3SZ8zPb8YC7-O1SfekZYnoGtOKOO1fP333k_bT_DopseqbP-Gm3lVavPbD_u0QERDcadxfV37F0vfuxIp7iOKeXqxzxXy-ES2V_7QrbDBHNxQ/s1600/mommybig+head.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531476004546424034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqLtehO7O7D2tTHrIy0qmvXjID3SZ8zPb8YC7-O1SfekZYnoGtOKOO1fP333k_bT_DopseqbP-Gm3lVavPbD_u0QERDcadxfV37F0vfuxIp7iOKeXqxzxXy-ES2V_7QrbDBHNxQ/s320/mommybig+head.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Today, Mommy played in the side yard for a while, seperate from the other dogs so there would be no disputes. When she came in to eat, she romped in as usual, racing to her crate to wait for her bowl. On delivering her meal, this is what I encountered. </div><div></div><br /><div>She is now on Benadryl, working to reduce the allergic response. It's unlikely I will ever know what she reacted to, although I can rule out toads. She killed at least 6 of those this summer with no visible effect on her. Being a tireless hunter, she will go after almost anything. Wasps have been particularly bad this year. I'm sure <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJfwjWnVywOxDBFShFyMrXISRi_JCIiMGgCOKRpIlDaN_GKQYHUFSuCf2UnqUxjOmgRDImi_Klnirhwl0-1zwa_WODRQ2pm3hzeAufq93Z4IdktQsawNe1tgLiEDZBN22DdyzdQ/s1600/zoey+mommy.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531480068125439666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJfwjWnVywOxDBFShFyMrXISRi_JCIiMGgCOKRpIlDaN_GKQYHUFSuCf2UnqUxjOmgRDImi_Klnirhwl0-1zwa_WODRQ2pm3hzeAufq93Z4IdktQsawNe1tgLiEDZBN22DdyzdQ/s320/zoey+mommy.jpg" /></a>she will learn nothing from this lesson, the toads taught her nothing. </div><div></div><br /><div>Although Calamity Klutz Mommy is a real character and has a certain charm about her, I suspect that Jack Russells are not the brightest pups in the pack.<br /></div><br /><div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-20888878601159882072010-10-18T21:37:00.000-07:002010-10-20T20:49:02.323-07:00Demolition crew<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGaDsLHGPh4hopTcUv9gJmdz_0nPFw6Ifdj3GCiZd6zcmIf7qp21zWdi8uZJnxVziH6fhj4Ao7ElTZNpCF7_bV3U610qbvrkrIPQkVVWmVGc6lHqHeTmzid5MtJg-4mS9MSqkdw/s1600/triki+digger.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 271px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529612663197132786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGaDsLHGPh4hopTcUv9gJmdz_0nPFw6Ifdj3GCiZd6zcmIf7qp21zWdi8uZJnxVziH6fhj4Ao7ElTZNpCF7_bV3U610qbvrkrIPQkVVWmVGc6lHqHeTmzid5MtJg-4mS9MSqkdw/s320/triki+digger.jpg" /></a> Another major project was begun on Sunday, the demolition of about 6 square yards of concrete slabs from the back yard. When undertaking a big demolition job, it always pays to have a good crew on board. What my crew lacks in size, they make up for in sheer cuteness and entertainment value.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbgyYj59mQGvTfm2E3596H2x4Wa0Vc8bYjtIG25x2yo5uDEefi3fEUWdooSIEku0fbSmASrDs439l_0rcFTDfQ_LPrOAnhoB0CiIMbt2j8LFswZC5e3PgopWeYL4kOJsoJbQasQ/s1600/super+Badger.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529612036382845810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbgyYj59mQGvTfm2E3596H2x4Wa0Vc8bYjtIG25x2yo5uDEefi3fEUWdooSIEku0fbSmASrDs439l_0rcFTDfQ_LPrOAnhoB0CiIMbt2j8LFswZC5e3PgopWeYL4kOJsoJbQasQ/s320/super+Badger.jpg" /></a><br /><br />There is always someone willing to join in the digging. Getting dirt out of the way, so cement can be smashed, is a big step. Scooter and Triki tag teamed on the digging while Badger just blew through the work site hoping for attention.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOLob1IwYo1OwUu7a-oBkCRg4c5W5cHjXxUztPw7Nin2giCvia1WaSR7ZNxLE-Ac5iSqE_IsbMVhn8YWGE-PvJmHfs2_M2hn4v3QifExAyZdgR6PYbP2n7h0o8FoaAIgYe1sshg/s1600/helpers.jpg"></a><br /><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 303px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 207px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530340136703171506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOLob1IwYo1OwUu7a-oBkCRg4c5W5cHjXxUztPw7Nin2giCvia1WaSR7ZNxLE-Ac5iSqE_IsbMVhn8YWGE-PvJmHfs2_M2hn4v3QifExAyZdgR6PYbP2n7h0o8FoaAIgYe1sshg/s320/helpers.jpg" />Everyone has quickly learned what "OUT" means so they back up and watch while the hammer is swinging. Sadly, the digging crew lacks persistence so when no small critters were dug up during their efforts, they decided to go pursue other interests, leaving me to handle the rest of this project on my own.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-37033009823301450652010-10-09T21:50:00.000-07:002010-10-21T22:27:29.609-07:00Pointack? Jointer??<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfI2wRD55rHp0eZ3g67mu0O5gpH6t5mK0fwJgJn5vIY96g6pqf07bupm8dxJDs7xjx5i3WbjYwn_NjXPBinbIaYUS7dZoR92SDiAT0108xCtYX701hdEB7iEX4vjFlLR_JLiKydQ/s1600/Pointer+jacki.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526279019252621970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfI2wRD55rHp0eZ3g67mu0O5gpH6t5mK0fwJgJn5vIY96g6pqf07bupm8dxJDs7xjx5i3WbjYwn_NjXPBinbIaYUS7dZoR92SDiAT0108xCtYX701hdEB7iEX4vjFlLR_JLiKydQ/s320/Pointer+jacki.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div>Zoey "Mommy" fancies herself a Pointer apparently. Granted, what she points is my caged cockatiels but she would garner high marks for style. Mommy has been fascinated with the birds since she arrived here. Sadly, I must report she has nibbled toes on one bird who foolishly climbed the side of the cage.</div><br /><div></div><div></div><div> </div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkp5XQnF2YJ9dqyYSn8j-CAWNUfayWcayTTqi7GaS12Fu5-sD5E-viEUPtoqHjn_ADhdsY86u_kPDMmfYNdaKLSNOwwUxaUDnKuOEuxLWRv1SEHbn8r6ujETQ4MvFcmJAE9Sc1g/s1600/Pointer+Jack.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526278328682896258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkp5XQnF2YJ9dqyYSn8j-CAWNUfayWcayTTqi7GaS12Fu5-sD5E-viEUPtoqHjn_ADhdsY86u_kPDMmfYNdaKLSNOwwUxaUDnKuOEuxLWRv1SEHbn8r6ujETQ4MvFcmJAE9Sc1g/s320/Pointer+Jack.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Every day Zoey spends much of her time circling the birds' flight cage, jumping as high as she can, hoping to catch a juicy bird. By and large, the birds ignore her efforts, with the exception of when she grabs at their little toes. Some of them actually have become pretty arrogant, having apparently figured out that climbing the cage is not wise and they will go to the ground to forage despite Zoey's attempts to get at them. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkp5XQnF2YJ9dqyYSn8j-CAWNUfayWcayTTqi7GaS12Fu5-sD5E-viEUPtoqHjn_ADhdsY86u_kPDMmfYNdaKLSNOwwUxaUDnKuOEuxLWRv1SEHbn8r6ujETQ4MvFcmJAE9Sc1g/s1600/Pointer+Jack.jpg"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>Zoey doesn't actually point that often but on this day "Killer" the attack bird was really working<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QQ37gvvFzlUJ20n27y0HINsPI4nIhkVq7XRNu2UChk_jfcI9GcYDeiJmAxBxfDNHp77UB-4KeSxmS_zZOOQkVwVpLEGz9mYrubKBQg6dSb_kI_Nlx7uZRuKv9BV5kJvf7FwByQ/s1600/killer+birdy.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530737314383273906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QQ37gvvFzlUJ20n27y0HINsPI4nIhkVq7XRNu2UChk_jfcI9GcYDeiJmAxBxfDNHp77UB-4KeSxmS_zZOOQkVwVpLEGz9mYrubKBQg6dSb_kI_Nlx7uZRuKv9BV5kJvf7FwByQ/s320/killer+birdy.jpg" /></a> it. He walked around the ground for a while then he took a leisurely climb, by way of the branches, back up to the top of the cage. Throughout this performance, Zoey's nose was mere inches from his. I don't think she knew what to do, other than to point at him. She couldn't even muster a bark until he got back to the top, then off she went, streaking around the cage, barking at this insolent feathered thing who dared taunt her. </div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-66784155402420525052010-09-01T19:31:00.000-07:002010-09-03T22:44:38.327-07:00Oops! Accidental rescue?In rescue, as in everything, accidents sometimes happen. Not all of them are bad.<br /><br />"Mommy" Zoey was an accidental rescue and from one day to the next, she is an accident waiting to happen, yet I can't help loving her. She is such a klutzy, ditzy, OCD, ADHD little dog who just happens to be a Jack, not a Rat.<br /><br />Zoey's rescue request came from a east-central Kansas shelter, asking if Ratbone could take this female Rat Terrier, maybe 4-5 years old. The picture that came with the request was not very good but in a weak moment, instead of asking for better photos, I said I would take her since she could be transported to me.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipn_V8zfxsICAf0SoBf_x2p2LwjgTISZLEd4S7bHXcLFtw7VM0hcsPWm51tZby_Bb9KTbDxIpcoUDfiaYt2n38X1d_allgWndyMTwBG6bOVY2bmpvshgWcZJpY8eJxnTBnWdZ13w/s1600/sockhead.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 329px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512156683132073330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipn_V8zfxsICAf0SoBf_x2p2LwjgTISZLEd4S7bHXcLFtw7VM0hcsPWm51tZby_Bb9KTbDxIpcoUDfiaYt2n38X1d_allgWndyMTwBG6bOVY2bmpvshgWcZJpY8eJxnTBnWdZ13w/s320/sockhead.JPG" /></a><br />Zoey was able to ride the CARE bus across Kansas with a bunch of Colorado bound rescues. When the bus arrived and the door was open, imagine my surprise when the only terrier I saw was a clearly Jack Russell Terrier. Even more surprising was when the driver proceeded to unload this stocky, big headed girl for me. Oops!<br /><br />In rescue, when you go to pick up a dog from a shelter, if the face to face meeting is a big surprise, you have the option to walk away. Not to say this is an easy thing, once you are face to face with a sad little shelter dog, it is almost impossible to leave without that dog. When it arrives on a transport bus however, there are not many options, so Zoey came home with me.<br /><br />Zoey did not have puppies when she went to the shelter, she did not have them after she arrived here and thanks to my vet, she will not have pups in the future but for some reason I found myself calling her "Mommy". Of course, what I call her doesn't matter that much as she usually has too much on her mind to pay attention to me anyway. With time she had begun to realize I am addressing her when I yell "MOMMY!" but responding depends on what else is going on around her.<br /><br />Mommy's first discovery was that TOADS are easy prey. No matter what anyone says about how bad they taste and how they make you drool and foam when you put them in your mouth, Mommy knows they don't move very fast and they are soft, like big marshmallows. She persists in slaughtering any toad that dares to enter the yard. For a while, there was a regular population on the shady, north side of the house, between our fence and the neighbor's fence. Every so often, one would come under the fence. Mommy became so obsessed with these creatures that she would spend hours pacing the fence, looking under the boards and through <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPQxpq7QvtLN09QAQyRViSyfdf43UatZpIleJy_ZuEWbA5TtsBhoH7erOun9SUbjPvxMQLhMeZMOQd85I3eC5hr2J_BQ9iyyNp9eb1LqdoVudXtSk130lRY4kUriNrMZqlYGUpQ/s1600/sockhead2.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512168435995817058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPQxpq7QvtLN09QAQyRViSyfdf43UatZpIleJy_ZuEWbA5TtsBhoH7erOun9SUbjPvxMQLhMeZMOQd85I3eC5hr2J_BQ9iyyNp9eb1LqdoVudXtSk130lRY4kUriNrMZqlYGUpQ/s320/sockhead2.JPG" /></a>the cracks for another victim.<br /><br />Then, her obsession lead to her first major accident. In her drive to capture toads, Mommy forced her head through a small, chewed out spot at the bottom of the fence and got stuck. Now, every other dog in this house is a Rat Terrier and Rats are great at "pack" activities. This includes going in for the attack when offered injured "prey". With her head stuck under the fence and her butt defenseless, Mommy was fair game. Before she escaped from the neck hold the fence had on her, she had been bitten on all 4 legs by her evil Ratty siblings.<br /><br />I suspect mommy saw the "bright light" before she got to the vet. She was in pretty rough shape, having caused a large tear in the skin on the base of her skull. There was also tissue <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWUw3gTp64XaQ_2CnWrq5RtYyh7Yi8aDWdqol3U4iZfj6P6VhQKhZ5efgn_njY3_wD7vPUC3TecAfaTLMBfWwI95-JBjocZO96DqnQJB9Cc-k8ZcDsfI-d81TQ25r314k9s4Jjg/s1600/Pointer+jacki.jpg"></a>damage so as a few days passed, the injury looked even worse as damaged skin sloughed off, leaving a open wound with bared flesh, an inch wide and three inches long. For a few days, she wore a sock around her head when she went outside to keep flies from attacking the open. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67bcDFODWKK4E9DZS2VDOe0PzetwBzpswh7Q4i5FMgPcPMBwOYnnv5Zlm9GX2K_Z2T6AjasxuODAzZHMYVXIEteajlUWK1e5FV6KXSh4C1UEygLBkPI1GojcP4CXPpvbjeFMXoQ/s1600/Pointer+jacki.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 286px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512928196357758946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67bcDFODWKK4E9DZS2VDOe0PzetwBzpswh7Q4i5FMgPcPMBwOYnnv5Zlm9GX2K_Z2T6AjasxuODAzZHMYVXIEteajlUWK1e5FV6KXSh4C1UEygLBkPI1GojcP4CXPpvbjeFMXoQ/s320/Pointer+jacki.jpg" /></a><br /><p>Amazingly, as she regained her strength and began to heal, the skin drew together, eventually closing up completely, leaving only a line of scar at the back of her head. As the hair grows in, you can barely tell she was injured. </p><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Er7yRFwmfAMW9IsVxeRclVUjryY0KEjScUq-ozcr6M3afz0FE6GEQJxOnvKW3-8psWMTwOrLdrchaX20nQmOWK72F5KFH1MWO6TZU79ObPd-s6mZPQIq9xarFhef_p4tdzsv1A/s1600/zoey+point.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 282px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512927500666451538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Er7yRFwmfAMW9IsVxeRclVUjryY0KEjScUq-ozcr6M3afz0FE6GEQJxOnvKW3-8psWMTwOrLdrchaX20nQmOWK72F5KFH1MWO6TZU79ObPd-s6mZPQIq9xarFhef_p4tdzsv1A/s320/zoey+point.jpg" /></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Er7yRFwmfAMW9IsVxeRclVUjryY0KEjScUq-ozcr6M3afz0FE6GEQJxOnvKW3-8psWMTwOrLdrchaX20nQmOWK72F5KFH1MWO6TZU79ObPd-s6mZPQIq9xarFhef_p4tdzsv1A/s1600/zoey+point.jpg"></a><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67bcDFODWKK4E9DZS2VDOe0PzetwBzpswh7Q4i5FMgPcPMBwOYnnv5Zlm9GX2K_Z2T6AjasxuODAzZHMYVXIEteajlUWK1e5FV6KXSh4C1UEygLBkPI1GojcP4CXPpvbjeFMXoQ/s1600/Pointer+jacki.jpg"></a></p><p>Well before she healed up, she was already pursuing her next obsession, the birds in my flight cage. She now fancies herself a Pointer. She held this point for nearly 5 minutes, until the bird climbed to the top of the cage. </p><p>This week, she discovered the neighbor's Pygmy Goat!</p>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-78243807313314236412010-03-25T22:38:00.000-07:002010-10-26T20:22:56.987-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGHW9_ygq3I2H5squGOS1dINxaGljxyE5M2mthTJK3FtH7S0QL3Q9SLIS2Sxchg7mDvjQTq1DiCxe4mPj7YqhSNnBoS5a04_yrJSRRwifqTjc80K5JCpB9C8To9sQnj8E8ZN5_Q/s1600/ducky+pillow2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 251px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452815600296144546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGHW9_ygq3I2H5squGOS1dINxaGljxyE5M2mthTJK3FtH7S0QL3Q9SLIS2Sxchg7mDvjQTq1DiCxe4mPj7YqhSNnBoS5a04_yrJSRRwifqTjc80K5JCpB9C8To9sQnj8E8ZN5_Q/s320/ducky+pillow2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Little Ducky, one of the first Ratbone dogs, (Nov. 99) who I adopted, is now 11 years old and becoming quite spoiled and contrary in his old age.<br /><br />For example, if he doesn't eat something in the morning, his tummy gets rumbly then he won't eat in the evening. He has now learned that I am more committed to him having breakfast than he is. So, he will refuse to take a biscuit when the other dogs get theirs. He will sniff it then look away with a pitiful "I just don't think I can handle that" look. In response, he has trained me to go to the kitchen and fix him bread and milk for breakfast. In fact if he is in a real mood, I will have to microwave it for 10 seconds before serving.<br /><br />Two weeks ago Monday, I had to travel across the state to attend mandatory training. I fought this for 2 years, to no avail and I was finally forced to go. Three years ago, I gave up going to my summer carving workshop because watching the dogs was becoming too much for my dad so it has been that long since Ducky has had a significant separation from me. If I have gone visiting for a couple days, he is usually able to go along.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgksMbZXWInm1uy-FZoJPsOyMvMojjM2OTT2HVTpmeOSOHW-PD0MazDpo2I4iG3zmcycSO9kX8WR14QPuDJ0IeitAiPp1G4Tf5YVy343IT2PdodbvsQXVBXc4tReN6H8XK-7efIA/s1600/duckyxleg.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 205px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452813461628611618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgksMbZXWInm1uy-FZoJPsOyMvMojjM2OTT2HVTpmeOSOHW-PD0MazDpo2I4iG3zmcycSO9kX8WR14QPuDJ0IeitAiPp1G4Tf5YVy343IT2PdodbvsQXVBXc4tReN6H8XK-7efIA/s320/duckyxleg.jpg" /></a>I explained all of Ducky's special eating needs to my dad before I left on Monday morning. I also told him to let my personal dogs sleep in my room at night since they are used to sleeping on my bed. I wanted to cause them as little stress as possible. Ducky especially has always fretted when I was gone.<br /><br />When I returned home the following Saturday evening, everyone jumped around and barked excitedly. Ducky did his little Ratty bay at me. When my dad told me how the week went however, he informed me that he didn't see a reason to fix the bread and milk because Ducky ate very well all week and took biscuits. I was feeling worked.<br /><br />In addition, Ducky pouted or maybe was just punishing me. For the first four nights after I returned, he REFUSED to sleep on my bed. He would crawl in the dog bed that is on the floor under my bed but would not come up no matter how much I called or cajoled. If I physically picked him up to put him on the bed, he would growl at me and once on the bed, he would promptly get down and go back under the bed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3o6JEXcYjFAdDsk7s7VoqmMD1vrdjoPcIP9w8rO2us_0wSZ1vWi6YATz9aMlHnT6HrsN5dURGf_R7PPcGawc9Ee-CFAsnlMKJYEuamjDj-jhDzNDkpF_XTi3Z2vU7jetkhBgbQ/s1600/duckinbed.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452814387392557794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3o6JEXcYjFAdDsk7s7VoqmMD1vrdjoPcIP9w8rO2us_0wSZ1vWi6YATz9aMlHnT6HrsN5dURGf_R7PPcGawc9Ee-CFAsnlMKJYEuamjDj-jhDzNDkpF_XTi3Z2vU7jetkhBgbQ/s320/duckinbed.JPG" /></a><br />Finally, last night I put him on the bed and he crawled under the covers and stayed there. Tonight, he put his feet on the bed, asking to be put up and once there went rooting to get under the covers. I guess he felt I had been adequately reprimanded for going off without him. Sometimes, I think I'm too prone to anthropomorphism, I mean they are DOGS after all! Other times however, I really think they are just scary smart.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-81734303247628698832009-12-12T19:10:00.000-08:002009-12-12T21:58:23.741-08:00DONE! DONE! DONE!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4QhBqXXv8-cl6ggel8hJ-QSuMSpLHGrPpJoIV2SaZrZLA_3Pprmx3NsI8l1G-1WdNhpzFVlCmG_0g9w6YXaX1v0MqEMmCq5hyphenhyphenzHePtmbhnVWMBEnTKIFVIk8EvMemy5dvepscQ/s1600-h/Kelly+quilt+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4QhBqXXv8-cl6ggel8hJ-QSuMSpLHGrPpJoIV2SaZrZLA_3Pprmx3NsI8l1G-1WdNhpzFVlCmG_0g9w6YXaX1v0MqEMmCq5hyphenhyphenzHePtmbhnVWMBEnTKIFVIk8EvMemy5dvepscQ/s320/Kelly+quilt+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414553113643952610" border="0" /></a>Both quilts are completely done and labels have been attached which relate information about the quilt for posterity. The three pillows are finished, one will go with the Tiny Paws Quilt and two with the Kelly Quilt. I'm going to be looking for boxes to pack these in tomorrow as I want them packed and ready to ship when the new owners' names are given to me. They should still get to their new homes in time for Christmas.<br /><br />It has been a fascinating journey, from an envelope full of quilt blocks made by many different people to a pair of finished, queen sized quilts with coordinating pillows but I can't say I'm sad to have it done. It was quite chaotic at times, organizing what needed to be done, by what date and by whom. A lifesaver was a friend who makes quilts and just happens to be the person that got me hooked on Rat Terriers. She assembled the top of the quilt and put bindings on them after <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZM8c57EosaoMB-YIMJps5_kmIBGENzJDgD9fgq5OJJCjG0VxaeQxgcKWiQqmmKapakQ2yP1LA8Uu76yeRAFfKUHioZh0YInPH_R6T-57Zs3YMt6DI2D1nXWDfIidDWuR6uv0XQA/s1600-h/kelly+pillow2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZM8c57EosaoMB-YIMJps5_kmIBGENzJDgD9fgq5OJJCjG0VxaeQxgcKWiQqmmKapakQ2yP1LA8Uu76yeRAFfKUHioZh0YInPH_R6T-57Zs3YMt6DI2D1nXWDfIidDWuR6uv0XQA/s320/kelly+pillow2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414553396367272642" border="0" /></a>the quilting was done.<br /><br />I made the pillows, using the blocks that wouldn't fit in the quilts. Having done very little sewing since high school, I was surprised at how much fun I was having working on the quilts and pillows. Of course, being a little OCD, I ended up buying a new sewing machine after starting the project. My new machine has over 70 special stitches plus it will do letters, although they are rather small. I used several of the stitches on the pillows, including the blanket stitch on the cranberry stripes and a leafy vine design on the back of one pillow. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgcQ_FPZf-3zdWXLfFdmOXT1bJmHKCFKyeKtMxMIEs-sOgKFtgZQaW3HdLim5u7AFN5ZR_2n8ziMmUnQuKxjpZm9Zhjgrtt3Kjo2W2mtppDtW_I5oFibVWS0YoIqOLEWJ6dvt-A/s1600-h/kelly+pillow1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 172px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgcQ_FPZf-3zdWXLfFdmOXT1bJmHKCFKyeKtMxMIEs-sOgKFtgZQaW3HdLim5u7AFN5ZR_2n8ziMmUnQuKxjpZm9Zhjgrtt3Kjo2W2mtppDtW_I5oFibVWS0YoIqOLEWJ6dvt-A/s320/kelly+pillow1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414553300941831618" border="0" /></a><br />I've even gotten excited about working with fabric and have collected several pieces of fabric to make into appliqued projects. I mentioned the OCD, didn't I? A habit I have to work harder on controlling is getting so involved in a new project or hobby that I feel a need to buy everything I can related to that craft. I do love making things and my obsessions are mostly related to tools and materials to create things. I have a room devoted entirely to all my art and craft stuff and it is overflowing. I'm glad that occasionally I can use my crafting skills to raise some money for my real obsession, Rat Terrier rescue.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-84302634556689463102009-11-05T19:24:00.001-08:002009-11-05T19:30:38.039-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yb2xSB_XU3DJ3Yrb9_hv1L2hYfVe_B_N3AK9Sd9YMjMI7pm2_EyiLe779RNoPNaxmmEmjPBTB6EZpDSI4-rvr2UPbcj0ZsHjEoVtSuge1-jZsfiFu_lMVn7oJFnGndqi1T15BA/s1600-h/Kelly+fabric.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yb2xSB_XU3DJ3Yrb9_hv1L2hYfVe_B_N3AK9Sd9YMjMI7pm2_EyiLe779RNoPNaxmmEmjPBTB6EZpDSI4-rvr2UPbcj0ZsHjEoVtSuge1-jZsfiFu_lMVn7oJFnGndqi1T15BA/s320/Kelly+fabric.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400826370844829906" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well, still sewing. This year Ratbone Rescues will have 2 quilts on it's fundraiser. The second one is really turning out to be very nice looking. All the blocks in this one were made by a Ratbone member named Kelly. She made quite a few blocks for the quilt and when everything was put together there were enough blocks for 2 quilts so we decided to hold all but one of Kelly's blocks back for the second quilt. Since she used only 2 fabrics for background and these had similar colors in them, this made for a well matched top. We chose a couple of rich colors to go with it and the mix looks excellent.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The edge was <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijx5eS5kyN5eO_TW4uJiQMWtkyTuwh85BNY3qEOLcbjZgLmsoXdbaAdauG_VFU8LQzo8CCxB-Mn1T-X4ilUHRNeEfOyr-JYxH1ew7yAnNs3af5PBsWVydCkwH2GKb9MnCPHNWYKg/s1600-h/Kelly+edge+done.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijx5eS5kyN5eO_TW4uJiQMWtkyTuwh85BNY3qEOLcbjZgLmsoXdbaAdauG_VFU8LQzo8CCxB-Mn1T-X4ilUHRNeEfOyr-JYxH1ew7yAnNs3af5PBsWVydCkwH2GKb9MnCPHNWYKg/s320/Kelly+edge+done.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400826899362719282" border="0" /></a>redesigned slightly for this quilt and of course will be in dark, rich colors. The last of the 3 appliqued sides is assembled and with the quilt maker who will stitch around all the pieces to hold them permanently in place.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1T7N6x3WsdAZWtg2FrMQFmPqZeVW0DvwSWhiGcCrVxeDFIXJp5QWi_ImVkZUL4MXEIlRouJXyMgwVPNoXuj4DqRDrNOlOdiyviDcJk_4lR0blqx2jwAPnzps5oGNVLObUH5-PQ/s1600-h/Kelly+top.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1T7N6x3WsdAZWtg2FrMQFmPqZeVW0DvwSWhiGcCrVxeDFIXJp5QWi_ImVkZUL4MXEIlRouJXyMgwVPNoXuj4DqRDrNOlOdiyviDcJk_4lR0blqx2jwAPnzps5oGNVLObUH5-PQ/s320/Kelly+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400827262940145538" border="0" /></a><br />The top of the Kelly quilt went together well and the sides will be on by next week when it is due to be handed over to our quilter. We will be picking up the Tiny Paws quilt at the same time so before long there will be pictures of the quilted project.<br /><br />Personally, I love the Kelly quilt. It would look SO good in my room. Of course it would be too big for my bed so it is just as well that I'm not eligible to win it. Members of the Board of Directors are not eligible to receive the items awarded in our fundraisers. "sniff, sniff"<br /><br />An aside to the quilt making saga is that I have kind of gotten into it and now I am planning to make a quilted wall hanging when both quilts are done. I have been designing an applique for the center and already have the fabric for it. If it goes well as a learning project, maybe next year I will make a Rat Terrier wall hanging on my own for the fundraiser.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-19305038963764096912009-10-17T20:11:00.000-07:002009-10-17T22:37:25.401-07:00THE TINY PAWS QUILT!<span style="font-size:130%;">Most outstanding!</span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxtHM0sTpKWghsdoBO_SDs0wQVpNWbY-jOPE8tBW2p40MkAVJiavA0JSnz7c-UGa8uiNJvm5zJwdeSqdDyJ1pZH8T7YEKsranjoGArvEokstNPflgqD1Abus35bWbYtIS7ZZ8oQ/s1600-h/assembled3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxtHM0sTpKWghsdoBO_SDs0wQVpNWbY-jOPE8tBW2p40MkAVJiavA0JSnz7c-UGa8uiNJvm5zJwdeSqdDyJ1pZH8T7YEKsranjoGArvEokstNPflgqD1Abus35bWbYtIS7ZZ8oQ/s320/assembled3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393772788149080194" border="0" /></a><br />This project is looking great. The quilt maker finished assembling everything and turned it over to me today. I will take it to the quilter tomorrow. She will put the batting and backing on and quilt the whole thing. Then it goes back to Anita, who will put a binding on the edge. I am very happy about how nice this quilt is coming out. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJDbHu7FScGO-AlT5tZm0p0nHulo2hHFhaCpfB3UbfJPda6ve3hYhq_nY91cNlW9tqg42y5RoWUHIuYy56EkU0756oWMGwGNd2xL0jBFpE_0DlWyLK0Ukve1DRM9IW3tem5KjaA/s1600-h/assembled.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJDbHu7FScGO-AlT5tZm0p0nHulo2hHFhaCpfB3UbfJPda6ve3hYhq_nY91cNlW9tqg42y5RoWUHIuYy56EkU0756oWMGwGNd2xL0jBFpE_0DlWyLK0Ukve1DRM9IW3tem5KjaA/s320/assembled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393773337168486786" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I don't know that I want to become a quilt maker. It could be like the afghan making spell I went through. Once you have made a half dozen or so, WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THEM? I have a box full of afghans that I don't have any place to display. Maybe rescue would want to have a monthly raffle for a quilt. LOL!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aLrekP-pDseNZwB8U1TcsUFznRFyOZFUDbgKvGeozwSCj9NZ2O7rp_L7uoedOzVsCiJ2SaliAyS8QvD7dDo4TZc1DG0ZmpxEWFhsO4Jz9nq2yA_b_J633wPQmOVp_ghyphenhyphenwN4UWA/s1600-h/assembled2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aLrekP-pDseNZwB8U1TcsUFznRFyOZFUDbgKvGeozwSCj9NZ2O7rp_L7uoedOzVsCiJ2SaliAyS8QvD7dDo4TZc1DG0ZmpxEWFhsO4Jz9nq2yA_b_J633wPQmOVp_ghyphenhyphenwN4UWA/s320/assembled2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393772772739327810" border="0" /></a><br />I was a little worried when I sort of stumbled into being in charge of the quilt this year. I knew I could find someone local to do the quilting as there are several very good quilters in this area. Putting the quilt top together was a bit concerning however. Piecing quilts is not one of the skills I learned growing up, even though I watched my grandmother sew together numerous beautiful fabric creations. <br /><br />Fortunately, my friend, Anita offered to help put together the parts. Having made a number of quilts, she knew what it would take to go from the box of blocks I received to a finished quilt. She knows about the squaring up of the blocks, cutting them all to precisely the same size, matching corners of blocks so everything comes together perfectly. Being a long time artist, I thought I could prob<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGXP52Gw3dfzVM5ue0jlTtXbWO1h7BCiDT98gRJnfkPE7dUCMlA_ic7dpAhAodvCPqCNaGckVyjQukI-VxM53h0hJadiY-SjBa83sYn8bBCYUJiKfaASgcufAxyjARFZVVW_AhA/s1600-h/pillow.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGXP52Gw3dfzVM5ue0jlTtXbWO1h7BCiDT98gRJnfkPE7dUCMlA_ic7dpAhAodvCPqCNaGckVyjQukI-VxM53h0hJadiY-SjBa83sYn8bBCYUJiKfaASgcufAxyjARFZVVW_AhA/s320/pillow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393772793717014034" border="0" /></a>ably manage this if I needed to but now that I have made a pillow to match the quilt, I am very thankful that Anita was willing to help Ratbone by donating her time to this project. <br /><br />Not that my pillow turned out bad but it sure did take a lot more effort than I expected. Making all the corners match and all the border strips the same width was more stress producing than I expected. I cannot imagine having to do this 20 times over. <br /><br />It's all good though. All the parts are assembled and quilting starts this week. Plus, work has begun on the second quilt. We will have two quilts this year. The second one will be VERY striking. I selected fabrics to go with the blocks and they are absolutely gorgeous. Updates to come.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-65369016690048797632009-10-07T21:21:00.000-07:002009-10-07T22:38:07.830-07:00Sewing was never one of my favorite things, although I did a lot of it in school, back in the day when all girls took sewing. This applique thing is really proving to be fun. Of course it <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThSgpYtJbHM9WVDsT7EvRDv2bmvyIpZjuuOGDFJ19z5w0kFxFMQGU-B_KcORJziLLBxOX6HWf76KRwhdQ4lweQQjEty1L-IDHMZjwMDbeIj-mn9C0UTO1mYlQUhFTggUgTnz9IA/s1600-h/edge+1+donesm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThSgpYtJbHM9WVDsT7EvRDv2bmvyIpZjuuOGDFJ19z5w0kFxFMQGU-B_KcORJziLLBxOX6HWf76KRwhdQ4lweQQjEty1L-IDHMZjwMDbeIj-mn9C0UTO1mYlQUhFTggUgTnz9IA/s320/edge+1+donesm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390079807787914866" border="0" /></a>is not so much sewing as it is art. I completed the first of the edges for the quilt and have now started the second one. Anita has finished setting the blocks together and is stitching around the applique. We hung this on the edge of the bed last weekend, with the top spread out on the bed and it was really quite striking in appearance.<br /><br />I am really anxious to see it all set together and get some pictures of the whole thing laid out on a <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitKRCmSEqsAHIAOoW7-JFolWwkoOtzN3bxn0f_eg-qL9Ygosj70VZ4IZDPrELy4ZzbzK1AGFl6nYch-tUNh3U85-BngKg44Ykw6CUwNzbL6SiXhKmpAXSu8KcteyOc6kQjjPs7rw/s1600-h/quilt+top.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitKRCmSEqsAHIAOoW7-JFolWwkoOtzN3bxn0f_eg-qL9Ygosj70VZ4IZDPrELy4ZzbzK1AGFl6nYch-tUNh3U85-BngKg44Ykw6CUwNzbL6SiXhKmpAXSu8KcteyOc6kQjjPs7rw/s320/quilt+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390094645601729250" border="0" /></a>bed. This would look good in my guest room. Too bad I can't participate in the drawing. Being one of the board members of the rescue excludes me from the raffle but I will be watching to see if someone I know gets the quilt. There are a lot of hours in this quilt, between the many Ratbone members and supporters who made quilt squares for us and the time donated by my friend, Anita, who makes beautiful quilts AND who gave me my first Rat Terrier.<br /><br />For more information about the quilt or to get your numbers for the drawing to win, go to the link.<br /><a href="http://www.ratbonerescues.com/rbr_quilt.php"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Ratbone Rescues Quilt </span></a>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-9257377678621580752009-09-29T20:48:00.000-07:002009-09-29T21:35:07.390-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM7nUGbByVxxYA8GPSIpCi_JZOhK8VpHKGv70X-YSjBh-uU2nvYf0gVnGTP1OSOWKNXWiELYxhkhfo4xZFONzSRS01Ha2Fjmoc6PeuJyA-L3EpdK5JyVTXJzcwYyTN6EKklYTZg/s1600-h/halloween+wall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM7nUGbByVxxYA8GPSIpCi_JZOhK8VpHKGv70X-YSjBh-uU2nvYf0gVnGTP1OSOWKNXWiELYxhkhfo4xZFONzSRS01Ha2Fjmoc6PeuJyA-L3EpdK5JyVTXJzcwYyTN6EKklYTZg/s320/halloween+wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387102930383668994" border="0" /></a>Moving along! The quilt is beginning to come together. I am excited about how it is looking, I think the final project will really be amazing. The assembly is being done by the woman who gave me my first Rat Terrier, little Scooter. Scooter will appear on the quilt, looking down at a lizard in leaves. Anita has been making quilts for years and loves doing it. She makes some really nice wall hangings, she has them for each season so she can hang a different one on her wall, depending on the time of year. Her work is amazing to me, a person who struggles to sew a straight seam. <br /><br />She has made quilts as well and the beds in her house, as well as those of her relatives, all sport stunning quilts. She is an expert at matching the colors and patterns to fit the setting and make a quilt that fits beautifully into the setting it is to be used in. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiuXPef3F6nN7SKbPesJBm8wioW2NomEaUkOais99TfAM8Po0hb_uj1kuVJqgAtkOqIQk_RjdVpg9LCW18CPqmJsCsQlugGJz_UDkO3137TqZG9k1kGYRXAOwWB57BJGLmqV5Og/s1600-h/Anita+quilt2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiuXPef3F6nN7SKbPesJBm8wioW2NomEaUkOais99TfAM8Po0hb_uj1kuVJqgAtkOqIQk_RjdVpg9LCW18CPqmJsCsQlugGJz_UDkO3137TqZG9k1kGYRXAOwWB57BJGLmqV5Og/s320/Anita+quilt2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387104612791272978" border="0" /></a><br />She has offered to teach me to piece quilts but I'm not sure about that, it is that straight seam thing, you know. On the other hand, my grandmother made quilts for years. I remember watching her cut tiny little squares and stack them by color then stitch them all back together by hand in a colorful pattern. These days it is doubtful you would find anyone doing the stitching by hand but many of the patterns are the same. Actually, I have found the applique part to be fun. I enjoyed making the squares and perhaps will try some wall hangings. Not sure where I will hang them but could be fun to make. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_yjJP9H4FIsxBwdlIegIC40FSZQcOBMXaGhCsLIFlkRL88A7KnIxyYiEYRRWbmsEWwfxnmmJsFEu8MWWJuaD1d5w8G6SRrFwjRpT6oa57NYa38GE4LJK1WqjIBmCKwOyn8aVdw/s1600-h/quilt+prog3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_yjJP9H4FIsxBwdlIegIC40FSZQcOBMXaGhCsLIFlkRL88A7KnIxyYiEYRRWbmsEWwfxnmmJsFEu8MWWJuaD1d5w8G6SRrFwjRpT6oa57NYa38GE4LJK1WqjIBmCKwOyn8aVdw/s320/quilt+prog3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387102919696723602" border="0" /></a>As the quilt has started being set together, it promises to look spectacular. The blocks made by the rescue members and supporters are being framed with black and at the corners, squares of cream color fabric with tiny paw prints are added.<br />This fabric will also be used on the borders of the quilt. The plan is for the black and the single, subtle print to add a degree of calm to the busy nature of the quilt which is inevitable with pictorial quilts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JvwzoFu0lhWTQJolo34TjO7tOKokWwRZkKuoOXEpAlgrrXXDK9f9rQV8C1CZ-G2Bs8OQDsBsaKLkzyy0ihPD45N96AKGlFBk2IM8cWW90im28bhu9tpEnuo91jmBbwgnjE7JVg/s1600-h/edge+patterncolor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JvwzoFu0lhWTQJolo34TjO7tOKokWwRZkKuoOXEpAlgrrXXDK9f9rQV8C1CZ-G2Bs8OQDsBsaKLkzyy0ihPD45N96AKGlFBk2IM8cWW90im28bhu9tpEnuo91jmBbwgnjE7JVg/s320/edge+patterncolor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387102915503821730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Anita's one concession to my busy personality has been letting me design an applique for the quilt<br />edges. The plan is to apply this design to the cream colored border. The red will not be "red", it will be wine or very dark red, just enough for contrast from the black, to accentuate the twisting of the ribbon and the heart. I am really anxious to start working on this as I want to see how it will look on fabric. I think this will truly be a unique and beautiful quilt which someone will really enjoy owning.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-5047905580046001672009-09-25T19:22:00.000-07:002009-09-25T22:48:41.036-07:00Rescue quilt projectFor the past ten years I have been a member of Ratbone Rescues, a group dedicated to rescue and adoption of Rat Terriers. Unfortunately, there is very little money in legitimate rescue, in fact more often than not our group is in the hole because normal vet expenses are high and about the time we catch up, a special case comes along. These are dogs needing rescue who have extra medical needs which far exceed the adoption fee we receive for them. Adoption fees, donations and fundraisers are the primary sources of income for most rescues, including Ratbone Rescues.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOM7opuN6L3ibUqXQ06m9y33zuaMdA_w7B7ZOtnSyJz36PDDE5byU7OsCBSSiXw_0TgOHn7lairBd_sJ13-7Xp3eJYNTRDUBs_7t0K9gCEN9upmalrFltmUVOU1VZYEqTZke4gdw/s1600-h/wall_hanging.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOM7opuN6L3ibUqXQ06m9y33zuaMdA_w7B7ZOtnSyJz36PDDE5byU7OsCBSSiXw_0TgOHn7lairBd_sJ13-7Xp3eJYNTRDUBs_7t0K9gCEN9upmalrFltmUVOU1VZYEqTZke4gdw/s320/wall_hanging.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385630259478638978" border="0" /></a>For several years, one of the biggest fundraisers of the year for Ratbone has been a quilt which was made up of blocks our members and supporters make. When all the blocks were received, a volunteer assembled the top and quilted it so it could be raffled. Prior to last year, I had no involvement in the quilt, in fact I had never even made a quilt square before that. I made two squares for that last quilt and that went well. They were put in a wall hanging that was added to the raffle.<br /><br />Early this year, it was decided that Ratbone would have a 2009 quilt raffle, the only problem was our volunteer quilter was no longer going to help us so the Board of Directors had to figure out what to do about getting the project from a bunch of cloth squares to a complete quilt. Somewhere in that process, I vaguely recall volunteering to handle getting this done. My grandmother pieced quilts when I was a child and I watched her stitch some elaborate blocks together but my experience at actually working on quilts was almost zero. What HAD I done??<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXcW1K8E3vjYZWxkLQe59XMeEQCtRrFPE7NwvClH_t0tGPnMKopiluIP4gRqq0M_ivRIwBDAMvI_K3i8pFDXg_xQmwJ0_VbA-5-bMQDQ4ixcGdjTAdwUkBIWsjpiEOq5VPXK_pw/s1600-h/6+pcs+done.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXcW1K8E3vjYZWxkLQe59XMeEQCtRrFPE7NwvClH_t0tGPnMKopiluIP4gRqq0M_ivRIwBDAMvI_K3i8pFDXg_xQmwJ0_VbA-5-bMQDQ4ixcGdjTAdwUkBIWsjpiEOq5VPXK_pw/s320/6+pcs+done.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385632032624794002" border="0" /></a><br />After volunteering is not the time to figure out whether one is up to the job. Fortunately, I have a friend who is quite an experienced quilt maker and she agreed to help with the assembly of the blocks into a proper quilt top. I found a quilter who will then add batting and backing and quilt it together. I then set to making my own quilt blocks for the project. I had great fun with it this year, ending up with 8 squares to contribute to the quilt. One was of my own little Scooter, the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOA4gM0flkbuqFnT0cXLa26lMFpNtZNHWq0KmNmaTV50idfyXrnq4qyzb87stdZH6Ms8b0kPaAQnLMrwd7iTwMsRCmyrTblDrIvKyVHXwQZn-WPPSeOIP-XSqe325wMFcTw1GfnA/s1600-h/hairless+2+pc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOA4gM0flkbuqFnT0cXLa26lMFpNtZNHWq0KmNmaTV50idfyXrnq4qyzb87stdZH6Ms8b0kPaAQnLMrwd7iTwMsRCmyrTblDrIvKyVHXwQZn-WPPSeOIP-XSqe325wMFcTw1GfnA/s200/hairless+2+pc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385635600044419826" border="0" /></a>others were from pictures of foster dogs or dogs owned by members of web-groups like Rat-Terrier.com. I even did a pair of squares with American Hairless Terriers (hairless Rat Terriers) on them. These are easily identifiable as they are wearing their "jammies".<br /><br />All of the quilt squares arrived at my house about 2 weeks ago, then I really did wonder what I had gotten myself into. There were so many. There were different sizes and colors and I had no idea where to start. Lucky for me, I didn't do anything until I talked with Anita, who will assemble the top. She promptly told me "Touch NOTHING!" as she has special tools to cut squares perfectly square and all the same size. I am familiar with the term "special tool"! My mechanic always had one for some job on my car <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy-pY-440WrFgI3W6OxjxdFzZDBoHMMNhbJ1U9XOEB3QW0WxhVvkoaRsIRqvKpS3e8MCa64bRE_9gdVXSRuzcsPGoe2g9y-9YEfgiCC4mIqlm7jtjKsUJ6U8ntie6mqccBNnZx4w/s1600-h/hairless+1+pc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy-pY-440WrFgI3W6OxjxdFzZDBoHMMNhbJ1U9XOEB3QW0WxhVvkoaRsIRqvKpS3e8MCa64bRE_9gdVXSRuzcsPGoe2g9y-9YEfgiCC4mIqlm7jtjKsUJ6U8ntie6mqccBNnZx4w/s320/hairless+1+pc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385644604517185426" border="0" /></a>which made it impossible for me to do the job myself. I have a number of special tools myself, mostly related to woodcarving and sculpture, my first hobby love. Quilt making tools? No idea what they look like.<br /><br />In the past 2 weeks, Anita and I have worked out the best layout for the squares, balancing colors and designs as much as possible. We figured out fabric colors that would go well, be pleasing and keep the overall appearance of the quilt unified and not too busy. This can be challenging when the different blocks contain so many colors, patterns and textures but we found some good option. The top is starting to come together already and my assignment is to design an edge pattern which will be appliqued on each side. I finished the design tonight and I believe I am happy with it. What Anita will think of it remains to be seen.<br /><br />Stay tuned for updates as this project comes together. Be prepared for a special looking quilt and go to the Ratbone Rescues web site to get your raffle tickets.<br /><br />http://www.ratbonerescues.com/rbr_quilt.phpDothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-11146156917721353252009-08-20T20:50:00.000-07:002009-08-20T20:59:52.743-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1v7HeovbKaBByrU-heqGd-AvHkIzJ7MQp4-XtY6dsaVPMyLmqLuFPzaC1fduGY931rqS4zMUFwH-LSsz8dskQ3WBQDtnJAB1mvzDAmRKMVF9F8YMcrk2xb0W3B_XqalLvQE5Lw/s1600-h/lampaug1506.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1v7HeovbKaBByrU-heqGd-AvHkIzJ7MQp4-XtY6dsaVPMyLmqLuFPzaC1fduGY931rqS4zMUFwH-LSsz8dskQ3WBQDtnJAB1mvzDAmRKMVF9F8YMcrk2xb0W3B_XqalLvQE5Lw/s200/lampaug1506.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372261802792370610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div> HEY! This is important! Not only does this help Ratbone with it's rescue efforts by paying vet expenses, it is a really beautiful work of art that Susan is creating. Be sure to check this out:<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#bf00bf;">Check out Ratbone Rescues' Stained Glass Lamp Fundraiser!</span><br /><br /></div><div><span style="color:#bf00bf;"><br />To see pictures and purchase tickets, please click on this link (at the top of the page, the word "website" is a link to buy tix): </span></div> <div><br /><a href="http://bit.ly/6fL7x" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="color:#0084b4;">http://bit.ly/6fL7x</span></a> </div> <div><span style="color:#bf00bf;"> </span></div> <div><span style="color:#bf00bf;">Proceeds will help pay for Maya Piddlepot's $2,500 surgery bill, and any additional funds will be put in the general fund so that we can help save more Ratties!!</span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="color:#bf00bf;">Due to a very ill mother and job responsibilities, the artist, Ratbone's very own Susan Cadell, has had limited time to complete the lamp project. In order to ensure that it will be sent out within 5 days of the drawing date, we find it necessary at this time to extend the raffle date until Sept. 1. The winning ticket will be drawn on <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1250785206_1">September 2</span> at 730 PM. THANK YOU AND GOOD LUCK!!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qVd3BmZQNdBadifSmfLlONePvTDKalHEcGv_FURlw-4iKxbtOo_mEY1LHw9PbjjD4J1PGAcrp9qzxnnntKFydJACpLZ6fm7y6ZiYTp52Srl4ycPBea43CIipsHgmwTkTPBeISA/s1600-h/Autumn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qVd3BmZQNdBadifSmfLlONePvTDKalHEcGv_FURlw-4iKxbtOo_mEY1LHw9PbjjD4J1PGAcrp9qzxnnntKFydJACpLZ6fm7y6ZiYTp52Srl4ycPBea43CIipsHgmwTkTPBeISA/s200/Autumn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372261012424327314" border="0" /></a><br />This one is just one of Susan's lamps that I REALLY LOVE!<br /></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-58306851253334399322009-07-06T19:30:00.000-07:002009-07-08T19:18:06.346-07:00Speaking of hoarding!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjbFvwlRRgZ3KO3Z2k9AqqjyqMDlStAIksU6lAtv4p_gfUpsffZTgxmXzdylDlORi9ZV6OAbe9xl2TEgdLQVIxPWzxYV2Z5TNhyphenhyphenTTxGZ-41t27aNSv7vLjU4ceCarwbVL_f09jw/s1600-h/Zuni+7-5-09.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355548293364983746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjbFvwlRRgZ3KO3Z2k9AqqjyqMDlStAIksU6lAtv4p_gfUpsffZTgxmXzdylDlORi9ZV6OAbe9xl2TEgdLQVIxPWzxYV2Z5TNhyphenhyphenTTxGZ-41t27aNSv7vLjU4ceCarwbVL_f09jw/s320/Zuni+7-5-09.jpg" border="0" /></a> I brought home a new dog on Saturday. Her name is Zuni and she came from a hoarder in New Mexico. She was one of more than 80 dogs that were taken in by the shelter when the were discovered after their owner went into the hospital.<br /><br /><p>The first thing I noticed when we met was how many bite scars this little 14 pound dog had on her face. Apparently, when you put 80 some dogs, at least half of them terriers, together in a house, not only is it dirty but it is violent at times. With just my small pack, fights will break out every once in a while and even though injuries are rare, there have been some. Pack mentality being what it is, when a pair starts a fight, chances are good that several others will join in the fray. When 5-6 dogs fight, there is a reasonable chance of breaking it up without anyone being seriously injured. A churning mass of 20-25 battling dogs is something to run from. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_MMLSIF0cmGf3LkwQB8Wf_nx12E1V2lN1XuTpWYQWpmTZgeEsxdoxc5C7aFTvnavUTljpIXJV4N6QdVcoQrCu0hqBLP8I33tDppgQ-y9ECkXgPaSLelr1vke7AGntFVSEBDrCA/s1600-h/Zuni+7-6-09+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355565334512779250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_MMLSIF0cmGf3LkwQB8Wf_nx12E1V2lN1XuTpWYQWpmTZgeEsxdoxc5C7aFTvnavUTljpIXJV4N6QdVcoQrCu0hqBLP8I33tDppgQ-y9ECkXgPaSLelr1vke7AGntFVSEBDrCA/s200/Zuni+7-6-09+4.jpg" border="0" /></a>Zuni is very shy and frightened, another consequence of living with a hoarder. She has not been well socialized with people and will not approach me at this point. I can only approach her if she is in a corner as she will move away when I move her direction. </p><p>Tonight, she discovered how to let herself in and out of the dog door. She may have had some access to a dog door where she lived as it is unusual for a new dog to figure it out that quickly if they have never used one. This of course creates a new problem, she is able to let herself out when she doesn't want to be caught. Once outside, catching her will not be likely so starting tomorrow this girl will probably be dragging a leash when she is loose. At least that way I will be able to bring her in at night. </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiql_2Vk9YnagB5J9aYpi1YvVaxsGU7eWyn5x4fyfPHxuJkVc4Ey1R0Pz4FBrLSOgcEHFhFjV2bmiKdPuZRV9eVk98hOBScItz6PUx_t-YJFGCY26czBYVyblaMl9zPvIDM0lvAoA/s1600-h/Zuni+7-6-09+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355567269944912754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiql_2Vk9YnagB5J9aYpi1YvVaxsGU7eWyn5x4fyfPHxuJkVc4Ey1R0Pz4FBrLSOgcEHFhFjV2bmiKdPuZRV9eVk98hOBScItz6PUx_t-YJFGCY26czBYVyblaMl9zPvIDM0lvAoA/s200/Zuni+7-6-09+3.jpg" border="0" /></a>She has unusual markings for a Rat Terrier, rather reminds me of a Foxhound. She has the build of an Italian Greyhound but the face of a Rat Terrier. She needs to fill out some but she is still going to be a leggy thing with a whip tail. She is a very quiet girl so far, of course she is still getting <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">acquainted</span> so this may change. In the two days since I started this blog, she has become quite proficient at using the dog door. She has trouble deciding if she wants to be in or out so she just goes back and forth. She did finally approach me tonight and sniffed my leg then she let me catch her without cornering her. Good signs! She is on the way to a better life.Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-54932918351538533392009-07-03T20:27:00.000-07:002009-07-08T19:21:30.381-07:00Princess Amissa<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKVxuABaJPy_xWCaxAm5xWXeioPAD_yjc-kksBKIYknCfD3IcPIDSHwDEscgjVaVOq7PHVxvFZWidhDelEJvCalV5zPTqqyc4UPFcQja4ZHV9M2aCxt-WMsblYCwC5VBlJYgJpQ/s1600-h/Amissa2sm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354485457630564050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKVxuABaJPy_xWCaxAm5xWXeioPAD_yjc-kksBKIYknCfD3IcPIDSHwDEscgjVaVOq7PHVxvFZWidhDelEJvCalV5zPTqqyc4UPFcQja4ZHV9M2aCxt-WMsblYCwC5VBlJYgJpQ/s320/Amissa2sm.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Amissa</span></span> (Hebrew for companion) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ratbone</span></span> is sometimes a princess, sometimes an evil queen! First and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">foremost</span>, she is the poster child for "CUTE" with her long legs and turned out ears. </div><div></div><br /><div>She is not my dog, she came here to live until a permanent home can be found for her. She is part of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ratbone</span></span> Rescues pack, which is somewhere around 100 dogs presently. NO! All 100 of these do NOT live with me, although my co-workers sometimes suggest otherwise. </div><div></div><br /><div>Several years ago when a hoarder bust in Oregon hit a tabloid, they cut the story out, pasted my face over the woman hoarder's picture and put it on the bulletin board. There were something like 260 dogs found in the residence! What a sad mental illness animal hoarding is. People who believe in their hearts they are helping animals but are compelled to continue bringing more and more animals into their home until there is no way they could care for them. Even when the filth in the house is ghastly and the animals are starving and dying, they still cannot see that they are helping neither the animals nor themselves.<br /></div><br /><div>Being only one of over 100 foster homes associated with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Ratbone</span></span> Rescues, my foster numbers have remained <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">manageable</span> although it would not be hard to lose control. All it would take was to accept every dog that I am asked to take. That is probably the hardest part about rescue, having to say no to an animal in need because there just isn't room for it. Knowing the chances are good that little dog will die because I said "No" is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">heartbreaking</span></span>. Some of their images still haunt me, making me wonder if I could have fit just one more in. I know this is a common emotion among rescuers, who, despite their many difference, all share the wish that they could "save them all".</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshYcYKzvyJxijH6Pw8d8OvjatpPHo2Eb1T5eni3pxkhgnBxL8v8qphyphenhypheniANmWltCjDb-NdJKCe3bycj7oRYbY-wjWpLIhUT4UCB6B0n6Aq4Z1Bvv3PC7Kg73QJCA7i86PPZYXmnQ/s1600-h/Amissa3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354485690338698066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshYcYKzvyJxijH6Pw8d8OvjatpPHo2Eb1T5eni3pxkhgnBxL8v8qphyphenhypheniANmWltCjDb-NdJKCe3bycj7oRYbY-wjWpLIhUT4UCB6B0n6Aq4Z1Bvv3PC7Kg73QJCA7i86PPZYXmnQ/s200/Amissa3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Amissa</span></span> was a lucky one, she made it under the wire, filling that reserve spot that I try to keep empty because it is one over my limit but now and then it still ends up filled. Mimi, as I sometimes call her, was found wandering in Oklahoma. The person who found her could not find her owners and could not keep her as she already had all the dogs she could care for. She did not want to take the little girl to the local pound as this could easily be a death sentence so she contacted <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Ratbone</span></span>. As it worked out, I had just agreed to take a little female that was in a shelter in Oklahoma. Transport was being set up and Mimi's rescuer was able to drive her up to join the transport. </div><div></div><br /><div>So <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Amissa</span></span> came to Kansas where she was number three in the trio of 11 pound girls fostering in my house. She proved to be more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">feisty</span> than appearance would lead to believe. She and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Abebe</span></span>, who she came from Oklahoma with, seem to both believe they should be in charge. There are regular bouts of posturing between them and every so often they will break into a "girl fight" which produces a lot of noise but fortunately, few injuries. </div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYlKkf3_F7dhHAUywEYNDepEov8PNm2BHUgescQRfeu2Sk6KLuI_EJjMCne5uT99Gndq_UCqW1EO-r54pYJTiMXf0wguU9PThaSsJO7v_ja5tPMOWgtJxqRI1Q_zzwTECF1mWgQ/s1600-h/Amissa+copysm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354479301510563042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 165px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYlKkf3_F7dhHAUywEYNDepEov8PNm2BHUgescQRfeu2Sk6KLuI_EJjMCne5uT99Gndq_UCqW1EO-r54pYJTiMXf0wguU9PThaSsJO7v_ja5tPMOWgtJxqRI1Q_zzwTECF1mWgQ/s200/Amissa+copysm.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Mimi is not adverse to putting one of the big boys back in line if she decides they are not showing proper doggy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">etiquette</span> but she most enjoys just looking cute. She does seem to think that looking cute should garner plenty of adoration, petting and treats from me or any other human around. Unlike many of the dogs, she is not camera shy. She will hop up on a chair, look right at me with those big brown eyes and wait for the flash. </div><br /><div></div><div>Cookie is gone now, she was the first of the three. She has a new home in Oregon, leaving <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Amissa</span></span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Abebe</span></span> to jockey for the position of Queen of the foster dogs. I could easily keep Mimi, she is quite a charmer but I'm sure she is going to catch <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">someones</span> eye before she is eligible for foster adoption. Of course, after she leaves there will be another little dog who will come along and steal my heart for a while before going to it's forever home. It's all part of rescue work, loving them, then letting them go. </div></div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-28234704604963443542009-05-29T21:36:00.000-07:002009-05-30T16:08:53.613-07:00Oops......Now that nights are getting warmer, I am discovering the error in rescuing tadpoles. Last summer a large puddle developed behind my office, probably 4' across and 15' long, almost a pond. I went to look at it one day and discovered it contained hundreds of tiny little tadpoles. The problem for a tadpole living in a puddle is that it takes a specific amount of time to morph into a toad and unless the rains come regularly, the puddle could dry up before they get land legs.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eMfFdA5Ak-91qOF_15Qz7qn9tCEKvs_hJclFpMrKGEwvnB_ezsjIVDcLzI8IfnIEsnljttL3VlQiqOG7nztsf5i9ErKyCxuwTxanr6F2GCDiW80H9S0C97g-MYMkpiP2t8mUAg/s1600-h/pond+hyacinth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341487250809980674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 197px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eMfFdA5Ak-91qOF_15Qz7qn9tCEKvs_hJclFpMrKGEwvnB_ezsjIVDcLzI8IfnIEsnljttL3VlQiqOG7nztsf5i9ErKyCxuwTxanr6F2GCDiW80H9S0C97g-MYMkpiP2t8mUAg/s320/pond+hyacinth.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>Before long the puddle began to shrink and the tadpoles began crowding together. Soon the surface of the water was in constant motion because there were so many wigglers per square inch. This quickly became a birdy buffet as the starlings could stand on the muddy edge of the puddle and eat their fill without even getting wet. I could take no more, operation tadpole rescue began. With no thought to my interference with nature's balance, I began scooping tadpoles up and putting them in a bucket. </div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>With a hundred or so, one inch long tadpoles in my bucket, I would journey off to some larger body of water and release the little guys. I took some to a run-off pond not far from work, another bunch traveled the 80 miles home with me and were dropped off at the lake outside of town. A few went into fish bowls in the office where a bunch of grown women, some of us grandmothers, rediscovered the fascination of watching tadpoles become something completely different. When they were ready to leave the water we released our little toads outside to repopulate the area around the office.<br /></div><div><br />The error part came in when I decided to drop a dozen or so of them in my little front yard pond. This is just a little 35 gallon, free standing pond with a fall which normally shelters my 4 large Comet goldfish. My largest fish is close to 6 inches long and I suspect <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8gehTawUJOhZ2jUUsPWPrFFa3FeedY4GyItGbyLpBIlDY_fftFebKqh8p4WW6skUQ9VOKQpj_FW0L2235x_JHL8KacE-q6PeLM17VVozPKuJnr4B0lTc2W0NKN8JPEga2TSSGQ/s1600-h/scoot+pondsideasm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341483181562701586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8gehTawUJOhZ2jUUsPWPrFFa3FeedY4GyItGbyLpBIlDY_fftFebKqh8p4WW6skUQ9VOKQpj_FW0L2235x_JHL8KacE-q6PeLM17VVozPKuJnr4B0lTc2W0NKN8JPEga2TSSGQ/s200/scoot+pondsideasm.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>that some of the tadpoles became fish food, unless they changed and hopped out quicker than I expected. </div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8gehTawUJOhZ2jUUsPWPrFFa3FeedY4GyItGbyLpBIlDY_fftFebKqh8p4WW6skUQ9VOKQpj_FW0L2235x_JHL8KacE-q6PeLM17VVozPKuJnr4B0lTc2W0NKN8JPEga2TSSGQ/s1600-h/scoot+pondsideasm.jpg"></a> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>My little Rat Terrier, Scooter was nearly driven mad by the presence of quick, dark shapes at the bottom <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjV4J4W3nq4ARpA8I335CtV4UuOqbwJ9fghH_WNLPBGMdYtdvWacWyeULDniFp3iDcOvUvyVZH-2Y2nTVGOULYxV4HYHcjZPuWpTlCIXoV-OzXYDIl79-0vZcbzBBkhF-ICCUsQ/s1600-h/scoot+pond+dunk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341483704750356450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjV4J4W3nq4ARpA8I335CtV4UuOqbwJ9fghH_WNLPBGMdYtdvWacWyeULDniFp3iDcOvUvyVZH-2Y2nTVGOULYxV4HYHcjZPuWpTlCIXoV-OzXYDIl79-0vZcbzBBkhF-ICCUsQ/s200/scoot+pond+dunk.jpg" border="0" /></a>of the pond. She surely thought they were water mice and her very favorite thing to do it hunt for mice. She would perch on the edge of the pond, watching the swim team. Eventually, she would jump in but of course, since she had no intention of getting wet, she would jump right back out and go to perching again. </div></div><div></div><div><div><br /></div><div>In good time the last of the tadpoles turning into a legged amphibian and jumped out of the pond. Scooter gave up looking in the pond and things returned to normal, 4 fish in the pond, no dogs. I thought little more of toads and tadpoles, thinking that was the end of the tadpole saga. Oh, how naive' I was! <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKL7qdGX3PhWUa9wr6fVrhuuNlp_HuyglC3TlAvyydlUUq5oiVzPjBv4DD3DBNmACsjzAfWuAP2xfHuNzfX-23NFKNxikv1f6qRH0T0keIoj2OicqE0f9r6MhT5I_T6q56VZlKw/s1600-h/tiny+frog2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341481454839371522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKL7qdGX3PhWUa9wr6fVrhuuNlp_HuyglC3TlAvyydlUUq5oiVzPjBv4DD3DBNmACsjzAfWuAP2xfHuNzfX-23NFKNxikv1f6qRH0T0keIoj2OicqE0f9r6MhT5I_T6q56VZlKw/s320/tiny+frog2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>A couple weeks ago, after dark, Sassy Sister, a Rat Terrier, of course, was out in the side yard before bedtime. She started barking but instead of stopping after a few barks she barked more and took on a note of hysteria. I went to see what had her so worked up and found her making faces, flapping her tongue and if she could have spit, she would have. All the while she kept running back at little 2 inch toad that had crawled out from under the sidewalk around the house, trying to grab him by a leg. Clearly, she had already tried the full body bite and toads apparently don't taste very good. The toad didn't look good, although there was no blood, he was limp so I tossed him over the fence. He was gone the next day so he must have just been stunned, unless toads play possum. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>After the fourth time the dogs found a little toad in the yard, it finally occurred to me, these are probably the former tadpoles that I brought home last year. So far, only that first toad was mouthed, Sassy seemed to learn very quickly that toads are something you don't want to put in your mouth. She does however bark, jump around and paw at the BIG, SCARY things but in each case the toad was fine and I have taken each of them to the garden, outside the fence. I'm hoping they do not insist on returning to the area inside the fence, even though they have a pretty good defense system going. </div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7033862.post-21370222520394871952009-05-23T22:44:00.000-07:002009-06-16T21:42:03.639-07:00TRIXIE: THE BEGINNING<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNzP9BhlbkNspiuqUGhSDH4B-3W8hgag0jImOcTHOj7movPei2MW0l2IKOPWVvdDqWWtCd7eyOnnAZFIX3sLkbqR5WNCRk4hO0EVO_9VWxeEHxcxSfg4pl3YCsnXOKWaQrWRTJA/s1600-h/trixheadshot.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339263623993823954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNzP9BhlbkNspiuqUGhSDH4B-3W8hgag0jImOcTHOj7movPei2MW0l2IKOPWVvdDqWWtCd7eyOnnAZFIX3sLkbqR5WNCRk4hO0EVO_9VWxeEHxcxSfg4pl3YCsnXOKWaQrWRTJA/s320/trixheadshot.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>I did not set out with the intention of being an animal rescuer, I just kind of stumbled into it. On April Fool’s day, 1998, a friend’s Rat Terrier had puppies and since I had been planning to get a dog to replace my Scottie, she offered one of the puppies to me. It wasn’t long after bringing this little whirlwind into my home that I realized what a wonderful breed the Rat Terrier is. By the time Scooter was a year old, I was looking to add a second Ratty to my family. My friend offered me a puppy from her upcoming litter, one that would be related to Scooter. I was excited about this pending addition to the family, dreaming of the puppy breath, tiny paws, little licks, big puddles, chewed shoes and wakeful nights. The ten weeks of waiting before my puppy would be available seemed like an eternity. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I’ve always been a dog lover and with my introduction to the Internet in the mid 90's, I found myself often cruising shelter and rescue web sites, looking at dogs that were rescued and dogs in need of rescue. As I wandered through these sites one night, I found the cutest pair of Rat Terriers in a shelter right in my own state. They had been in the shelter for several weeks, having come in together but remained unadopted due to the preference to place them together. Many people wanted one cute, active little dog but it seems no one was interested in taking on two at a time. For a week I returned to the site, looking at the two little Rat girls, hoping someone would have adopted them but they were always there, the smaller with her tongue lolled out, ears back, bouncing toward the photographer. They were in a low-kill shelter and not at immediate risk, but I began to worry about them and felt a need to help. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>I searched for Rat Terrier rescue groups on the Internet and sent out pleas for one of them to help get the girls out of the shelter. I told them I would adopt one dog but since these were not being placed separately and I didn’t think I could handle two, they needed help. An answer came quickly from Caroline with Ratbone Rescues. Unfortunately, she said she was unable to assist with them because there were no foster homes available in Kansas and no one to pull them from the shelter. She suggested I try taking both and if I found it overwhelming, I could contact her again and she would work on arranging transportation for them to a foster home. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>It had become obvious to me in this process that the adoption of a dog from a shelter was what I needed to do. My friend’s puppies were sure to be cute and lovable but she would not struggle to find them homes, on the other hand, a shelter dog could die without me. With that small bit of urging from Caroline, I decided to contact the shelter and tell them I would take both the Ratties. With the decision made I got so excited about taking the girls that I sent floor plans, property diagrams, showing all my fenced area and history on my other pets, fearing all the time they might decide not to let me have them. After submitting everything, it seemed an eternity with no word on my application. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>Finally, when I could no longer stand the wait, I called to see if anyone could tell me where things stood. I reached Margaret, a very kind woman, who I had spoken with several times. She had planned to call me that very day and was happy to tell me I had been approved to adopt Jordy and Ivy. I was elated, anxious to bring the girls home. We agreed I would travel across the state on the upcoming weekend to pick them up. When work ended Friday, Scooter and I packed up and headed down I-70, on the way to collect our new family members. Scooter always loves a trip and after the initial excitement of being on the road, settled down to nap the miles away. I had planned to spend the weekend with a friend in eastern Kansas, during which time I would go to the shelter to meet the dogs then return the next day to pick them up. We arrived late, settled down after some social time and when I finally rose the next morning there was shopping time, to pick up new leashes and collars, before time for the shelter to open. </div><br /><br /><div>On that pleasant, bright day in late September, Scooter and I arrived at the shelter to get acquainted. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84WjBqRSoPF5gDwws7CLhMSeZpn8Xd_leD_80gi640XeG7ysvQsRwLAQDfDdAYswqU3kq-iwtRAW28p6VNcigA2t_jOK2qWxVMywL2mLwuwtbW9CaoUMb25TJSKcR62Gwk0yz0A/s1600-h/trickytoy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348150944955950402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84WjBqRSoPF5gDwws7CLhMSeZpn8Xd_leD_80gi640XeG7ysvQsRwLAQDfDdAYswqU3kq-iwtRAW28p6VNcigA2t_jOK2qWxVMywL2mLwuwtbW9CaoUMb25TJSKcR62Gwk0yz0A/s200/trickytoy.JPG" border="0" /></a>There was a lot of activity at the shelter, many volunteers were in and out with dogs they had come to exercise and socialize. Two children and their father petted a tail-wagging shepherd mix while their mother signed the final adoption papers. When they finished and left with their new pet, it was my turn. Margaret was there to help me and the first thing she did was to tell me that after reassessing the two dogs this week, the shelter behaviorist had decided it might actually prove beneficial to separate them. They described both dogs as being quite submissive but despite this, Ivy was very domineering over Jordy. Although the two were clearly bonded they thought Jordy might come into her own is she was away from Ivy. Although they would still allow me to take both, Margaret assured me they would have no problem placing the remaining terrier as there had been several people interested in taking one.<br /><br /></div><div>When I made my choice to take only one, all that was left to decide was which one would go home with Scooter and I. The two little girls were brought out to an exercise pen, about 12 feet square, where they were let down to run. They both set off running the perimeter of the pen, barking furiously at the other dogs out in the play yard. When I knelt and chirped to them, the smaller of the two would come up to me but only for a minute then she would run off again. Occasionally Ivy, the larger of the two would display her alpha status, snarling at Jordy and standing very tall to show she was the boss. Jordy slowed only slightly under these attacks but had clearly learned not to resist. The moment the assault ended, Jordy would be off running again. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>I decided to introduce Scooter to the pair to see how they hit it off. Poor Scooter considered this a very bad idea. As soon as she hit the ground in the exercise pen, she was mobbed by the two little Ratties. Although she equaled them in size, Scooter clearly felt over matched. She was frantic in her effort to climb up my leg so these "big, fearsome beasts" could not get her. I picked her up but this was not enough, she proceeded to work at climbing onto my shoulder to get further away from the pack. I concluded that Scooter was not going to be of any help with the decision so I returned her to the car. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I returned to the pen and again, Jordy was the one who would respond, albeit briefly, to my efforts to make a connection with them so I decided this was the one I would adopt. I completed the paperwork, paid the fee and deposit then left the shelter with my new Rat girl. She rode home in a crate so she and Scooter were able to sniff through the door without overwhelming each other. When we arrived at home, Jordy was too busy running from room to room, sniffing every nook and cranny, to pay attention to Scooter. This was Scootie’s opportunity to get close without being noticed so she followed as right behind this newcomer, room after room, sneaking close enough for a sniff whenever Jordy seemed preoccupied. When finally all the sniffing was done, the two little dogs, worn out from the day’s excitement, collapsed on opposite ends of the couch, eying each other before falling asleep. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>In the following days and weeks, Jordy, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR3LQ5uqGT9LvOr_qDhIetWZoqlbAvlJd45gLL2_4j9tOQ284yHa8UHz-wT7qWsj9KQ7jSpZDx57GjOTLkMsNbHth2Q-TPXzCX6dkESQWiZgu-Zd1lfg0sw5rHT-88CM4H3b3hyphenhyphenw/s1600-h/Trick+in+bowl.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348149712006474274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR3LQ5uqGT9LvOr_qDhIetWZoqlbAvlJd45gLL2_4j9tOQ284yHa8UHz-wT7qWsj9KQ7jSpZDx57GjOTLkMsNbHth2Q-TPXzCX6dkESQWiZgu-Zd1lfg0sw5rHT-88CM4H3b3hyphenhyphenw/s320/Trick+in+bowl.jpg" border="0" /></a>who was renamed Trixie by my father, settled in, got acquainted with Scooter and the two of them became great play pals. This was no doubt a great relief to Oscar, the ten year old Doxie who had grown tired of Scooter’s attempts to coax him into romps. Trixie proved to be far from submissive. She quickly assumed the role of sassy, bossy alpha dog, sometimes just a plain bully. She didn’t take readily to crate training, obviously unhappy about containment. When locked in, she showed what remarkable lungs she had, bursting forth with prolonged shrieks which sounded much like air pushing through the stretched neck of a balloon but in time she gave up this howling, learned good doggy behavior and became a true part of the family.<br /><br /></div><div>She is now my little "foo foo princess" with the ballerina legs and the floozie sashay. As Trixie settled into the household, I kept thinking about the Rat Terriers out there with no home to call their own, no owner to appreciate their very special qualities. Shortly after bringing Trixie home, I contacted Caroline at Ratbone Rescues again and asked what was involved in being a rescue volunteer. She quickly sent me a response, explaining the process of applying to be a foster home for Ratbone and invited me to submit an application. I’m pleased to say that my application was approved and I was welcomed into the world of pet rescue, an outcome which has been very rewarding for me and has given a number of Rat Terriers another chance at life.</div></div>Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17325839085978285634noreply@blogger.com1