The rest of the gang adjusts to a new normal

I want to thank everyone who commented yesterday in response to my post about Archer’s new home. When I posted, I really wasn’t trying to gain accolades for my bravery or anything else. In fact, I was surprised by the outpouring of support from everyone and I do thank you. To me, though, trying to find out how to make Archer happy again was just something I needed to do.

He’s only been in his new home for a few days but thankfully so far all looks good. *knock on wood*

Several people asked how the other dogs were doing. They’re doing well.

Riker is so resilient. He is happy, initiating play, and just being Riker. He’s a joy to live with and he makes me smile every day.

Bashir is my mirror. When I’m sad, he’s unhappy and he follows me with sad eyes. When my mood lifts, his does, too.  When I smile and laugh, he’s joyful. He cups his ears forward, barks, and that Aussie stub of a tail just wiggles and wiggles. I guess I can say he’s good medicine for me because I can see myself in him.

Bashir is also my strength. He’s my rock. Bashir thinks I’m awesome and everyone needs someone who thinks that every once in a while. I think I try to be better at what I do because I have to live up to Bashir’s opinion of me.

Sisko is my therapy puppy. He has proven himself over and over again these past few weeks. Yet with all the emotion surrounding him, he has been stable and steady. He’s smart, fun, silly, and full of joy.  Even though he’s only a year old this week, he’s a wise old soul.

And I can’t forget Xena, the Warrior Cat. I wrote about her a couple of weeks ago because I was worried about her. She definitely missed Paul. Well, Xena has found her new balance. I’m still not allowed to pet her any more than a few scratches under the chin or behind an ear. But she’s sitting behind me on the sofa, on the arm of my chair, and she’s plastered up next to me in bed. So I guess I’m becoming acceptable. Oh, and I’ve heard her purring. Yeah!

So for those of you who asked, we’re doing well. Finding a new balance; a new normal. Thanks for asking.

Photos: Top: Bashir looking cute. Bottom: Sisko waiting to play. Photos by Liz Palika.

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The aftermath: Xena finds her ‘new normal’

I caught Xena dodging cars in a parking lot when she was about six weeks old. Because I had dogs in the van, I carried her home under my shirt. Although I saved her life, she has never been my cat; she has always been Paul’s. So now, at almost 10 years old, she’s without Paul.

Every night now, when I climb into bed, Xena plasters herself up against my feet. She’s there when I fall asleep and she’s there when I wake up.  During the day if I’m sitting in the living room, I will find her on the back of the sofa –  not touching me –  but close. Twice in the past few days she has jumped up on my desk.

Although all of these things may seem normal for most cats — and for many of our previous cats they were — these are not normal for Xena and me. She slept touching Paul, sat behind him on the sofa, and would hang out on his desk.

In her own way, Xena is telling me that she misses Paul, too. She’s not crying, not hiding, and not being overly affectionate, but she is placing herself closer to me and that’s good. I have always enjoyed her company even though she was often disdainful of mine.

Today she allowed me to rub her chin and rub behind her ears. No full-body pets have been allowed yet, though. I hope that won’t take too long.

Interestingly enough, when people were in the house these past two weeks, she would come out and visit. Normally she disappears when anyone else comes inside. She’s let my friend Kate pet her– cautiously of course — and rested on the sofa next to my 11-year-old nephew. That was totally out of character.

I’m not worried about Xena, as I am Archer. She’s eating and drinking well, hasn’t had any house-training accidents, and seems to be transitioning to me even though I wasn’t her first choice. It’s going to be interesting watching the changes, though. She’s still a feral cat in many ways so I have no idea how affectionate she may become towards me. I’ll keep you all posted.

Photo: Xena. Photo by Liz Palika

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Healthy, normal puppy flunks shelter ‘behavior evaluation’

December 15, 2010

Skeeter was tested at San Francisco Animal Care and Control and flunked his behavior evaluation a couple of weeks ago. Evaluators said he was “too mouthy,” and also put his age at 6 months.

Good thing a dedicated rescue group was there to say, ummm, no. Here he is with his new mom in the parking lot of the San Francisco Raw Feeders group, demonstrating both his sweet nature and good behavior — not to mention the fact that anyone with half an eye can see he’s still not six months old.

I adopted a 12-week-old mostly stray puppy who was a brutally hard mouther — she was a cattle dog mix, so you know what I’m saying here — and while it took me a little longer to get her to lighten up than it did my Deerhounds, it wasn’t beyond the ability of even a mediocre trainer like me.

It’s inexcusable to “flunk” a puppy for exhibiting completely normal, fixable puppy behavior, all the more so when this kind of decision can mean death, which is entirely unfixable.

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