burnt toast life

oh… Bird

Anyone who has been following along for any length of time knows that Bird is my “problem child.” Lovable, yes, but also naughty. Prone to antics. (Remember this?) (And this?)

Well, this time it may not be his fault, but the incident caused us plenty of headaches nonetheless.

Every year when we go on vacation, we have to board our dogs at the kennel. Up until this year, we’ve taken them to the same place – it’s in town, it’s convenient, and it’s reputable. But part of me never felt good about it, mostly because the dogs are kept in large cages all day and night. Yes, part of the caged area is outside, so they can “enjoy the outdoors.” And yes, my dogs are kept in my bedroom for 8 hours a day during the work week usually, so it’s not really that different. But still. I always felt so bad leaving them there, especially since I was going to enjoy a beach vacation. Ryder would usually come home with some sort of physical proof of his anxiety, like last time when his paw was red and hairless from being chewed on all week.

So you can imagine my delight when a new kennel came to town a few months ago. Not only did they have open play for dogs (and doggy daycare), but boarders enjoyed luxury dog accommodations. They got their own little rooms with beds and windows (no cages). So all week while I was at the beach, my dogs would socialize with the other dogs, play on the outdoor kiddie toys, bathe in the multiple pools, and then go to sleep tired out and happy in their own private room. It was perfect! And I even managed to convince myself that it wasn’t THAT much more expensive than the other place (ahem… $200 more expensive. Eeesh).

I took the boys for a personality evaluation a week before we left to ensure they would get along with the other dogs, and of course they passed with flying colors. I left them there for a day of daycare, just to test the waters, and the owners raved over their awesome personalities and said they were welcome to come and play anytime. We left for the beach feeling really good about the whole situation. And zero guilt!

That is… until Wednesday. Early in the morning Eric got a phone call from the Pennsylvania Department of Health. They were calling to inform him that there was a complaint filed against Bird for biting someone. Eric assured the woman that there must be some mistake, as his dog was safely ensconced at a kennel and we were on vacation. And we had received no phone calls from the kennel.

Well.

Apparently it went down like this: one of the employees at the kennel left a bagel unattended (um, why was she eating a bagel around the dogs in the first place?). Bird and another dog, Fred, stole the bagel and started eating it. The employee removed Fred from the area, then attempted to take the bagel out of Bird’s mouth. So…he bit her.

Apparently he bit off the tip of her finger and she had to go to the hospital and get stitches. She wasn’t mad or anything, but since it was a dog bite it did need to get reported to the state. Luckily, the whole place is equipped with web cams (which we were able to view remotely, another huge selling point on this place), so the owners were able to view the incident and confirm that the employee handled it 100% incorrectly. The bite was reactive, not aggressive. They were totally on our side. But despite this, Bird had to be quarantined for the remainder of his stay, and he is never allowed back there for boarding or daycare.

Also, when we asked why the hell they didn’t call us, they said, “It is what it is. We didn’t want to ruin your vacation.”

Um…OK? Really? Because it wasn’t much better hearing it from the Board of Health, that’s for sure.

The whole thing just sucks big time. Because now, not only can we never go back to that place, but also Bird will have this mark on his permanent record forever. So we can never board him anywhere. Trust me, one of the first questions on any application for a kennel or doggy daycare is, “Has your dog ever bitten anyone?” and now we will always have to answer “Yes.” What are we supposed to do next year on vacation?

Because of the incident, the girl who got bit was fired. Not that I’m ever happy to hear about someone getting fired… but it sounds like she’d be better suited to a different profession anyway. Too late for us, though.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with this dog. But then something like this happens, and all is forgiven:

birdmolly1

Poor Bird!

What a day!

First off, today is my 4th wedding anniversary. Time flies when you’re battling infertility, amirite? I’m going to share a photo from my wedding day to prove that I was thin once (and it wasn’t that long ago). Maybe my “goal outfit” should be this teeny, tiny, exorbitantly overpriced white dress…

mark my words, I will get this body back...

mark my words, I will get this body back…

Anyway. This morning I was taking the dogs out, as I do every day right before I leave for work. Ryder, our Golden, is free to roam the yard off-leash and won’t run away, but Bird would sprint cross-country if we let him. So I had Bird’s leash in my hand, and he yanked on it, and I guess my grip wasn’t as good as I thought because the leash dropped. I watched helplessly as he ran with Ryder to the other side of the yard.

THANK GOD Eric hadn’t actually walked out the door yet to leave for work yet, because clearly my fat ass wasn’t going to catch Bird. I yelled up the stairs for help and stood by uselessly as Eric followed Bird around, using his best stern voice to try and get him to come back. No luck. Our property borders a large field where horses are kept, and Bird thought it would be a good idea to go chase the horses, who were out and grazing just beyond the perimeter of our yard.

I didn’t see it happen, but apparently the horses didn’t take too kindly to being chased, and one of them expressed his anger by straight up kicking Bird smack in the face. The good news is that this caused Bird to come running back to Eric for assistance, so at least we got him back in the house. The bad news is that he got kicked in the face by a horse.

I felt terrible, and the whole thing was 100% my fault. Eric ended up working from home and of course rushing Bird to the vet immediately. The poor little guy wouldn’t let anyone near his mouth without snapping at them, so they had to put him under anesthesia to assess the situation and to sew him up. His jaw wasn’t fractured, but he did need both internal and external stitches and he might end up losing a tooth.

Happy anniversary, right? I mean, it could have been SO much worse (like, if the horse had stomped on his head in earnest… if he ran out into the road and got hit by a car… if we was still missing and unaccounted for, and possibly halfway to Canada). But still. Poor Bird has to wear a cone of shame for 2 weeks, has to be on medication, and woke up crying from surgery because he was in so much pain. As it stands now, he’s just moping around the house not being himself (it probably has a lot to do with wearing the cone, which he does not like). I feel like a terrible mother. Oh, and the $1100 vet bill wasn’t pretty, either. This comes not even a week after dropping $450 on new brakes and rotors for my car and a few short weeks after accidentally putting my iPhone through the wash. So much for saving up for maternity leave, eh?

Also… selfishly… I’m mad about how it kind of ruined the whole day. First, it cast a negative light and became the central focus of our anniversary. Second, Eric sent me beautiful flowers to work, along with a card that said, “Surprise! We’re going out to dinner. Your choice of where.” This coming from a man who doesn’t really like going out to dinner, and who I usually have to bribe to go out to dinner. Me, I love going out. So had we not had our little drama, I’d have spent the afternoon eagerly weighing my options in terms of restaurants. Instead, I was stuck knowing that we’d have to do takeout because Bird couldn’t be left alone. And I even straightened my hair today!

But as I said, it could have been worse.

Lessons learned for me: double wrap the leash, pay attention, keep a tight grip, stop making expensive mistakes.

Lesson learned for Bird: don’t go chasin’ horses.

poorbird

scaredy dog

Why, hello! It’s been so long. Long enough to acquire a few more animals, of course. So here’s the current headcount:

2 dogs

8 chickens

5 fish

1 turtle

1 cat

One of these days I’m going to start charging people admission to come over to the Harding Family Petting Zoo. It’s a grand old time.

Anyway, we got this cat. A rescued, 3-year-old, no-one-wants-me-anymore-and-my-owner-is-moving away cat (who is fat). I saw him for approximately 3 seconds on the day he came home before he skittered off to  hide in the basement for 5 days straight. We did not catch a glimpse of him for that long, but knew he was alive simply because the litter box was still being used. He was rightfully a little apprehensive about the dogs, who were joyously curious and scared the hell out of him. Now that some time has passed the cat (who we have named Clembough, Clemmie for short as a nod to Groupon’s $1,000 baby-naming deal which may or may not have been a total publicity stunt) cautiously comes up from the basement, pausing at the top of the stairs and meowing loudly for a little attention, please. The dogs oblige immediately, which causes him to flee back down the stairs to his secret lair. The only time he is comfortable going as far as the kitchen is when he hops onto the kitchen table, which is more than a little bit gross.

Since he has taken up residence in the basement, we put his food and water down there. Unfortunately, the dogs can reach it. And since Ryder is afraid of his own water, he is delighted to be able to steal the cat’s non -threatening water.

Allow me to explain. Ryder is what you may call a scaredy-dog. I love Ryder. In fact, of all these animals, he is by far my #1 favorite. But he is also a purebred Golden Retriever and inbred enough to be a bit dumb. We found one of those continuous water dispensers at a yard sale for $3 and picked it up, thrilled that we didn’t drop $40 for the one I had been eyeing at Target. The dogs took to it just fine – until that horrifying moment when the 3 gallon water jug made a GLUG GLUG noise and traumatized Ryder for life. Now he refuses to drink from it, approaching it only when I stand beside him and stick my finger into the water, indicating that it is in fact NOT a giant monster poised to attack him. Since I don’t always stand there with my finger in the water, he tries to find alternate sources for thirst quenching. Every time I take him outside, he drinks rainwater from the lip of an overturned pond that’s waiting to be installed in the backyard. He noses his way into our showers every morning to lick the suds in the tub. And he steals the cat’s water from the tiny dish. The whole thing is maddening.

I know, I should just give him back his old (non-scary) watering dish and stop torturing the dog. But wouldn’t that just be pandering to his insecurity? Giving credit to inane neuroses? Ok, so he’s just a dog. But Bird has no problem with it, and it GLUG GLUGGED at him, too. I’m at a loss here. Poor scaredy dog.

 

Naughty Bird & the stinky chickens

If I ever start a band, that’s what I’m naming it.

This week was interesting, to say the least. It culminated with me on my hands and knees last night, furiously scrubbing chicken shit off my dining room walls and cursing the chicken coop man who refuses to return phone calls.

Here’s what happened: the chicks got too big for their cardboard box, and around that same time Eric stopped cleaning out their cardboard box. This resulted in a filthy, smelly, chicken filled cardboard box caked in excrement on my dining room table. Not cool. Last garbage day I made the decision that I could not, under any circumstances, continue life for one more day with that pit of despair contaminating the air of my home. The box got tossed, but the chickens remained. I had to find a quick solution.

I should also mention that I found someone on craigslist who sells beautiful, hand-constructed chicken coops for $250. This is a fantastic bargain considering Green Acres wants $700+ and the materials to build one would probably cost $200 alone (not to mention the manual labor, time spent, and so on). The dude answered the first time I called but hasn’t since. Hence, the homeless chickens were relocated to the dog crate.

The problem with that solution, of course, was that we no longer had a functioning dog crate. So at first we let Bird run free, a privilege that Ryder earned a few weeks ago. He thanked us by peeing on the bed (daily), chewing my glasses beyond recognition, eating one of Eric’s expensive tools, and eventually pooping on the bed. Clearly this was a bad plan.

Someone had suggested that we close him in the bathroom instead. This turned out to be a worse idea.

The yellowing linoleum that came with the house, while ugly, was perfectly functional. Now we have half a floor missing, which looks quite ghetto if you ask me. Bird also managed to chew through 2 bath towels, 3 rolls of toilet paper, and a very soft and comfortable bath mat that we got as a wedding gift. He was just about to start work on my bathrobe when we got home.

As angry as we were at Bird, this whole fiasco did force us to take action – quickly. Eric found someone else on craigslist with a smaller, “transitional” coop for just $35. We spent last night cleaning out the layer of solidified bird droppings that had formed in the bottom of the dog crate in the space of just a week. It was a grand time. The mess in my dining room was epic, but now it’s cleaned up and smells pretty and the chickens are outside! Yay! They love their new home and I love that because of a naughty Bird, the stinky chickens are officially where they belong.

finally, a home