Normally I would be over the moon at the prospect of any of our dogs getting adopted and especially one who has been at BF for so long and has a bite history and aggression issues, like Tasha. But Tasha is my girl, I have spent months working on building a relationship of trust with this dog and she now freely lets me do things with her, like rub her belly, that she will tolerate only for a few strokes, if that, from most people. She is my special buddy at the Lodges and all of my coworkers (both within the Lodges and beyond) keep commenting that I should just get it over with and take her home already and the same thought has been rolling around in my mind for weeks now. But I keep reminding myself that there are still trips to be taken and adventures to be had that won’t really work well with a dog and I don’t want to be one of those people that adopts pets and then dumps them off one their parents at the drop of a hat. A pet is a lifetime commitment and I don’t know if I am ready to change the plans in my mind - I am a traveler and I love to explore new places and cultures, wanderlust runs in my veins to the very core of who I am as a person. After my two months in Guatemala three years ago (too long!!), the thought of a week or two in a new place just seems to be way too little to really get to know more than the touristy stuff. I don’t want to do that, I want to go to new places and see new things and become more connected to the culture and people than would ever be possible in just a week. Which brings me back to Tasha, I find myself thinking a lot about what will happen if she goes, or if she doesn’t. I have been telling myself all along that her getting adopted to a good family is the best result possible. I want her to have a forever home and family and I would love to give that to her myself, but I also don’t want to grow to resent her being in my life because it limits my ability to travel on my terms. But then I think about walking into her lodge and her run and she is not there and it makes me want to cry just at the thought of it. Truly, I would be so happy for her if she found a home, but it would be so very difficult to say good bye to her. I have connected with her in a way that I haven’t with any other dog at the sanctuary. Don’t get me wrong, I love all our dogs and I want only the best homes and families for each and every one of them, but Tasha is my kid, she is becoming my constant side kick at work. She is incredibly well behaved with me and is much more relaxed with new people than she used to be; she is even “auditioning” to be an out dog (a dog that gets to spend the day out of their run and off leash because they can be trusted to not get into trouble - too much). Each day for the last week or so, around 4pm, I go get her from her run and she hangs out with me and we go visit people at the clinic and let resters out and do meds. She has been great and people that have known her for a very long time keep commenting that she is doing so well lately and she is not nearly as grouchy and aggressive as she once was. She has definitely mellowed with age, but I also keep hearing comments when people see us together like, “Oh Tasha, I am so happy you have finally found somebody new that you can love.” And now the thought of saying good bye to her and letting somebody else have her is really eating at me. Keeley even told me today that when she met Tasha there was something about her that she really liked and she wanted to start working with her and then a couple months after Keeley started, I came along and we were both working with Tasha and Keeley could just see that there was a different sort of connection between Tasha and I that they didn’t have. I have been hearing these kinds of remarks for weeks now and it was finally starting to sink in that if I left BF and Tasha was still here, in spite of any pending plans, I don’t think I could leave her behind. But now I am faced with the prospect of her leaving me behind and I just don’t know if I can say good bye to her at all. However, at this point, it is out of my hands, so I guess if it is meant to be it will be and I am just going to have to sweat it out for a couple of weeks and hope for the best for Tasha.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
What If . . .
I got some great news yesterday, sort of. I have been working at BF for nearly four months now and it wasn’t until this week that I finally got my computer user name and login information so that I could start checking the email address that had been set up for me when I started (I had 220 unread messages) and have access to the computers for the necessary “office” stuff that is included in this job. On day two of my email access I received an email from our adoptions coordinator informing me that Tasha has an adoption application and the woman is planning to come out and meet her on Feb 14.
Normally I would be over the moon at the prospect of any of our dogs getting adopted and especially one who has been at BF for so long and has a bite history and aggression issues, like Tasha. But Tasha is my girl, I have spent months working on building a relationship of trust with this dog and she now freely lets me do things with her, like rub her belly, that she will tolerate only for a few strokes, if that, from most people. She is my special buddy at the Lodges and all of my coworkers (both within the Lodges and beyond) keep commenting that I should just get it over with and take her home already and the same thought has been rolling around in my mind for weeks now. But I keep reminding myself that there are still trips to be taken and adventures to be had that won’t really work well with a dog and I don’t want to be one of those people that adopts pets and then dumps them off one their parents at the drop of a hat. A pet is a lifetime commitment and I don’t know if I am ready to change the plans in my mind - I am a traveler and I love to explore new places and cultures, wanderlust runs in my veins to the very core of who I am as a person. After my two months in Guatemala three years ago (too long!!), the thought of a week or two in a new place just seems to be way too little to really get to know more than the touristy stuff. I don’t want to do that, I want to go to new places and see new things and become more connected to the culture and people than would ever be possible in just a week. Which brings me back to Tasha, I find myself thinking a lot about what will happen if she goes, or if she doesn’t. I have been telling myself all along that her getting adopted to a good family is the best result possible. I want her to have a forever home and family and I would love to give that to her myself, but I also don’t want to grow to resent her being in my life because it limits my ability to travel on my terms. But then I think about walking into her lodge and her run and she is not there and it makes me want to cry just at the thought of it. Truly, I would be so happy for her if she found a home, but it would be so very difficult to say good bye to her. I have connected with her in a way that I haven’t with any other dog at the sanctuary. Don’t get me wrong, I love all our dogs and I want only the best homes and families for each and every one of them, but Tasha is my kid, she is becoming my constant side kick at work. She is incredibly well behaved with me and is much more relaxed with new people than she used to be; she is even “auditioning” to be an out dog (a dog that gets to spend the day out of their run and off leash because they can be trusted to not get into trouble - too much). Each day for the last week or so, around 4pm, I go get her from her run and she hangs out with me and we go visit people at the clinic and let resters out and do meds. She has been great and people that have known her for a very long time keep commenting that she is doing so well lately and she is not nearly as grouchy and aggressive as she once was. She has definitely mellowed with age, but I also keep hearing comments when people see us together like, “Oh Tasha, I am so happy you have finally found somebody new that you can love.” And now the thought of saying good bye to her and letting somebody else have her is really eating at me. Keeley even told me today that when she met Tasha there was something about her that she really liked and she wanted to start working with her and then a couple months after Keeley started, I came along and we were both working with Tasha and Keeley could just see that there was a different sort of connection between Tasha and I that they didn’t have. I have been hearing these kinds of remarks for weeks now and it was finally starting to sink in that if I left BF and Tasha was still here, in spite of any pending plans, I don’t think I could leave her behind. But now I am faced with the prospect of her leaving me behind and I just don’t know if I can say good bye to her at all. However, at this point, it is out of my hands, so I guess if it is meant to be it will be and I am just going to have to sweat it out for a couple of weeks and hope for the best for Tasha.
Normally I would be over the moon at the prospect of any of our dogs getting adopted and especially one who has been at BF for so long and has a bite history and aggression issues, like Tasha. But Tasha is my girl, I have spent months working on building a relationship of trust with this dog and she now freely lets me do things with her, like rub her belly, that she will tolerate only for a few strokes, if that, from most people. She is my special buddy at the Lodges and all of my coworkers (both within the Lodges and beyond) keep commenting that I should just get it over with and take her home already and the same thought has been rolling around in my mind for weeks now. But I keep reminding myself that there are still trips to be taken and adventures to be had that won’t really work well with a dog and I don’t want to be one of those people that adopts pets and then dumps them off one their parents at the drop of a hat. A pet is a lifetime commitment and I don’t know if I am ready to change the plans in my mind - I am a traveler and I love to explore new places and cultures, wanderlust runs in my veins to the very core of who I am as a person. After my two months in Guatemala three years ago (too long!!), the thought of a week or two in a new place just seems to be way too little to really get to know more than the touristy stuff. I don’t want to do that, I want to go to new places and see new things and become more connected to the culture and people than would ever be possible in just a week. Which brings me back to Tasha, I find myself thinking a lot about what will happen if she goes, or if she doesn’t. I have been telling myself all along that her getting adopted to a good family is the best result possible. I want her to have a forever home and family and I would love to give that to her myself, but I also don’t want to grow to resent her being in my life because it limits my ability to travel on my terms. But then I think about walking into her lodge and her run and she is not there and it makes me want to cry just at the thought of it. Truly, I would be so happy for her if she found a home, but it would be so very difficult to say good bye to her. I have connected with her in a way that I haven’t with any other dog at the sanctuary. Don’t get me wrong, I love all our dogs and I want only the best homes and families for each and every one of them, but Tasha is my kid, she is becoming my constant side kick at work. She is incredibly well behaved with me and is much more relaxed with new people than she used to be; she is even “auditioning” to be an out dog (a dog that gets to spend the day out of their run and off leash because they can be trusted to not get into trouble - too much). Each day for the last week or so, around 4pm, I go get her from her run and she hangs out with me and we go visit people at the clinic and let resters out and do meds. She has been great and people that have known her for a very long time keep commenting that she is doing so well lately and she is not nearly as grouchy and aggressive as she once was. She has definitely mellowed with age, but I also keep hearing comments when people see us together like, “Oh Tasha, I am so happy you have finally found somebody new that you can love.” And now the thought of saying good bye to her and letting somebody else have her is really eating at me. Keeley even told me today that when she met Tasha there was something about her that she really liked and she wanted to start working with her and then a couple months after Keeley started, I came along and we were both working with Tasha and Keeley could just see that there was a different sort of connection between Tasha and I that they didn’t have. I have been hearing these kinds of remarks for weeks now and it was finally starting to sink in that if I left BF and Tasha was still here, in spite of any pending plans, I don’t think I could leave her behind. But now I am faced with the prospect of her leaving me behind and I just don’t know if I can say good bye to her at all. However, at this point, it is out of my hands, so I guess if it is meant to be it will be and I am just going to have to sweat it out for a couple of weeks and hope for the best for Tasha.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Farewell Nib-Nib
Yesterday was a very sad day for the Lodges and Dogtown. We lost a legend and Niblet will be deeply missed by everyone who knew and loved him. I knew when I started this job that there would be losses and that due to his progressing renal failure, Niblet would be one of them, but it is still a hard hit.The legend of Niblet preceded him and even those in Dogtown who didn’t know him personally knew of him. Perhaps, one day I will share the Legend of Niblet, but it is a story of humor and sadness that doesn’t seem appropriate here today. He was a good dog and I got to spend some very nice, quality time with him in the few short months that I knew him. He received sub-cue fluids once a day and I sometimes administered them. It took about twenty minutes and during that time we would sit on the floor and cuddle the Nib-Nib, talking to him, singing to him; it was always a very soothing time of day and often times the other dogs in his Lodge would come inside and rest while Nib got his fluids. I am sad that I did not get to say good-bye to Niblet, but I am happy that he was able to spend his last days in his run and not being poked and prodded in a clinic cage. Everyone recognized that Nibbles was on borrowed time as it was and I will always be grateful that there weren’t any fruitless efforts made to give him another couple of days just for the sake of keeping him alive a little bit longer when he would not have been able to run and play and bark in his run. He was a happy, silly dog, he liked to take his food outside and dine alfresco on a regular basis, he liked to bark at passing golf carts and the people heading up for puppy class, he liked to do the Niblet dance when it was time for fluids and then cuddle up for some good belly rubbin’s, he was a special dog. I, and everyone else at the Lodges and beyond, will miss our Niblet.
(Photos copyright Best Friends Animal Society.)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Getting the Hang of Things
By and large, it has been a good week up at the Lodges. After the chaos of the first week of the two Lodges, we have worked out a bit more of a routine and we are finding our rhythm as a team. Admittedly, I wasn’t so sure about the whole division after the first week, on paper, it is a great idea, but in reality, I was concerned about the frequency of unexpected and time consuming projects that would completely throw the day into mayhem (like flooded buildings) and the lack of a safety net. While the safety net is still a little thin for my taste, now that we have more of a handle of the timing of the day and when we can run late and when we can’t, should such issues arise, I think we will be better equipped to handle them. At the moment, there are a couple of openings around Dogtown and we have some caregiver candidates doing their two-week evaluations, which is a good sign that sometime in the (hopefully) near future we might be getting a little more help up at the Lodges to strengthen that safety net some more. Management had been approved before the separation to hire one more full time staff person for the Lodges and in the meeting when they unveiled the new plan for the Lodges, they said that they were going to lobby for the hiring of a second full time caregiver for the Lodges to give each team a total of four staff and three people most days. For now, we have a pretty good feel for things, but it would be nice to know that there is someone else to help pick up the slack if something goes wrong or someone calls in sick.
Ophelia successfully left for her forever home on Friday morning. I have not heard anything about how it is going yet, but hopefully we will hear something, soon. As a side note for anyone adopting a pet, keep in touch with the rescue, at least occasionally, to let them know how your new family member is doing, it just makes our days to get emails and photos of the dogs that have gone to homes. Knowing that they have a caring and loving family makes all that we do worth while; there is bulletin board in Dogtown headquarters that holds photos and letters from the families of adopted dogs and while I don’t know most of the dogs on the board, it makes me smile just to stand and look at the photos of family pets and read the tales of their antics. We got a really nice email this week from Rex’s new family and it sounds like he is settling in better that we could have imagined and his people love him very much. He even goes to the dog park and seeks out other dog playmates. Last year was a good year for adoptions and this year has started off with a bang, so here’s hoping that it will continue. Later this month we will have a woman coming to meet Oreo and from the sounds of things, pretty much everything with the application has been finalized and, unless something catastrophic happens when they meet, she will be taking him home mid-February. And Sophie’s people are coming near the end of the month and will hopefully be taking her home if all goes well with the meeting. I don’t know if they have other dogs, she can be a bit of a brat with other dogs sometimes, but when it comes to people, she is great.
After the extremely long blogs of last week, I figure this one is long enough for today. I should have time tomorrow to get more stories posted. I hope everyone had a great week.
Ophelia successfully left for her forever home on Friday morning. I have not heard anything about how it is going yet, but hopefully we will hear something, soon. As a side note for anyone adopting a pet, keep in touch with the rescue, at least occasionally, to let them know how your new family member is doing, it just makes our days to get emails and photos of the dogs that have gone to homes. Knowing that they have a caring and loving family makes all that we do worth while; there is bulletin board in Dogtown headquarters that holds photos and letters from the families of adopted dogs and while I don’t know most of the dogs on the board, it makes me smile just to stand and look at the photos of family pets and read the tales of their antics. We got a really nice email this week from Rex’s new family and it sounds like he is settling in better that we could have imagined and his people love him very much. He even goes to the dog park and seeks out other dog playmates. Last year was a good year for adoptions and this year has started off with a bang, so here’s hoping that it will continue. Later this month we will have a woman coming to meet Oreo and from the sounds of things, pretty much everything with the application has been finalized and, unless something catastrophic happens when they meet, she will be taking him home mid-February. And Sophie’s people are coming near the end of the month and will hopefully be taking her home if all goes well with the meeting. I don’t know if they have other dogs, she can be a bit of a brat with other dogs sometimes, but when it comes to people, she is great.
After the extremely long blogs of last week, I figure this one is long enough for today. I should have time tomorrow to get more stories posted. I hope everyone had a great week.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Getting the Kinks Out
Sunday's mayhem ended up being the worst of it for the week, though Monday put in a good effort at driving me insane. After all the craziness of Sunday afternoon, I had all but forgotten about the flooding situation in Lodge 12 by the time I got to work on Monday morning. I was still very concerned about what we were going to do about Lodge 10, but that was resolved by late morning. It wasn't until I went up in the afternoon to change out the water buckets that I realized we hadn't taken care of the growing puddle that was flooding into the building. They stop growing overnight when everything freezes and it isn't until after lunch usually that there is enough melting going on to start up the flow again. I spent the next half hour squeegeeing and digging and squeegeeing some more, I was able to dig a couple of holes and create a small barrier wall to stop the water from pooling outside the door and instead drain into the holes.
For the Lodge 10 flooding, one of our maintenance guys came up and buried a piece of plastic, bendy drain pipe that would carry the water from its puddle in the run out to the corner of the building and where it would collect in a deep hole he dug outside the fence. The fly in the ointment here is that Kasey, one of the residents of this particular run is the ultimate digger - the entire run looks like it is filled with ski moguls from all of his excavating.
In less than 24 hours, Kasey had discovered the pipe and dug most of it up, however, Jorge, something of a genius, dug a deeper trench for the pipe and used a four foot piece of railroad tie to cover it. This job really builds your creative thinking skills.
In less than 24 hours, Kasey had discovered the pipe and dug most of it up, however, Jorge, something of a genius, dug a deeper trench for the pipe and used a four foot piece of railroad tie to cover it. This job really builds your creative thinking skills.Elsewhere in the Lodges, Gramps, who isn't technically in my area anymore (he's in Lodges B), bloated on Monday afternoon and had to go through emergency surgery. 
He has a weak heart so everyone was very worried about whether he could make it through the surgery, but he is a feisty little curmudgeon and was up and walking the next morning. He will probably be in the clinic for a couple of weeks to make sure he doesn't have any complications. It turns out that he had swallowed a foot from a stuffed toy, this thing that they pulled out of him, which had played an important role in his bloat, was about one inch square and probably less than half an inch thick. I had noticed the footless toy in his run on Saturday and made mention of it to Megan, because, while Gramps loves his stuffed toys, he is not a toy destroyer like most of our dogs. In the three and a half months that I have known him, it was the first time that I have ever seen even the slightest rip in one of his toys. But after all this, rumor has it that he will be in an upcoming issue of the BF magazine, which will do wonders for his chances of adoption.
He has a weak heart so everyone was very worried about whether he could make it through the surgery, but he is a feisty little curmudgeon and was up and walking the next morning. He will probably be in the clinic for a couple of weeks to make sure he doesn't have any complications. It turns out that he had swallowed a foot from a stuffed toy, this thing that they pulled out of him, which had played an important role in his bloat, was about one inch square and probably less than half an inch thick. I had noticed the footless toy in his run on Saturday and made mention of it to Megan, because, while Gramps loves his stuffed toys, he is not a toy destroyer like most of our dogs. In the three and a half months that I have known him, it was the first time that I have ever seen even the slightest rip in one of his toys. But after all this, rumor has it that he will be in an upcoming issue of the BF magazine, which will do wonders for his chances of adoption.And speaking of adoption, our lovely little Ophelia left on a transport this morning headed for her new family in Maryland where she will be the only pet in the house. 
I am so very happy for her and, while it would have been nice to meet the family that is adopting her (they spotted that photo on the Web site and fell in love), I have yet to see anyone meet the little black bean and not fall in love with her instantly. She is a great dog and she will love being the center of attention with her new forever family.
I am so very happy for her and, while it would have been nice to meet the family that is adopting her (they spotted that photo on the Web site and fell in love), I have yet to see anyone meet the little black bean and not fall in love with her instantly. She is a great dog and she will love being the center of attention with her new forever family.While the week was full of hiccups and snags, I really think this new separation of the Lodges will be a great thing for the caregivers and dogs. While the Lodges Awesome and Lodges Boring continues to come up occasionally, it looks like our areas will be now referred to as Angel's and Deja's, after two very beloved Lodge dogs that have passed away.
I hope everyone has a great week and I will do my very best to get some more posts up next week. Happy Birthday Mom!!
(All photos copyright Best Friends Animal Society.)
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Lodges Awesome . . . Err, Maybe Not
This post was written on Sunday, January 11.
As I mentioned in a previous post, the Lodges is being divided into two separate areas. The original team of six staff has been split into two teams of three and the two-sided kitchen has been split down the middle - we are still waiting for the red tape to mark off our territory. When the division happened, we were termed Lodges A and Lodges B until better names could be thought up. As a joke, I, a member of Lodges A, started calling us “Lodges Awesome” while the other side was “Lodges Boring”. To a certain degree the “Lodges Awesome” is sticking around a bit, mostly in jest - and even more so after today . . . I think I may have spoken too soon.
Everything started out fine today, it is Sunday, which means it is our dog park day - we have a two acre dog park and each day of the week a different area has use of it. Sundays are Lodge day at the park, so we have decided to alternate mornings and afternoons between the two sides of the Lodges, since there aren’t enough days in the week to give both sides their own day. Lodges B had the park this morning and we would get it this afternoon. The morning went quite well and we got a pair of dogs out for a walk before it was time to start feedings. The meds got set up for the evening and tomorrow morning and then it was time to start delivering food. We even had enough time to start hand feeding some of the dogs in our area. Hand feeding is useful for a lot of different things, it can help to stop food aggressive dogs from guarding their bowl as they learn that the food comes from the people, not from the bowl and it can also be useful to socialize shy dogs. I was able to hand feed Dexter, a seemingly mild mannered dog that turns into a terror if you reach for his bowl before he is done with it or take too long to let go as you set it down.
We have been hand feeding him sporadically over the last several weeks and he is doing alright with it, but it will be nice to start doing it more consistently. After Dexter, I hand fed Quickdraw, a spunky little black ball of energy whose name fits him like you wouldn’t believe. 
He is very sweet and friendly, but get between him and food and you had better watch it. I have had him come at me twice, once leaving two small punctures in my hiking boot and a bruise on my foot. Both did really well and it was nice to have time to be able to start working on this issue.
After lunch, we had to take care of a few things down at the clinic and then started poop scooping and changing water buckets. When we arrived at Lodge 10 we were a bit behind schedule, having only finished two lodges so far. When I walked in, I found a puddle of water in Ballsy’s run, it was in a strange spot, nowhere near his water bucket and I was concerned that he had either vomited a bunch of water or had peed a lot inside (very uncharacteristic of him), but it really just looked like water, not puked up water or pee. As I looked around I noticed some water in the adjoining run and went to investigate, only to find that the building was in fact slowly flooding from the melt water. I ended up spending the better part of the next hour heaving snow off the roof. Megan changed waters and then came up to join me on the roof and when we finished there, we began working on the giant puddle in Shelby ’s and Kasey’s run. The amount of water that was pooling into the building meant that we could not leave the dogs in the building over night. One of the residents of the building is a former feral that can not be leashed up right now, so we decided that, since their run was the least affected by the water, Dexter and Daphne could stay in their run and we could make a mini-flood wall for them with towels. We had three empty runs in the neighboring building (they are awaiting the arrival of the dogs from Texas, mentioned in a previous post), so we were going to put the dogs there overnight, but when we walked in, we found that at least one of the empty runs in the neighboring building was flooded as well, so it was onto plan B. A different area had three empty runs that they had offered if we needed them, so rather than walking dogs the thirty yards to the next building, we had to walk them all the way to the opposite end of Old Dogtown, but we were grateful for the space. I should mention here that while all of this was occupying Megan’s and my time, we should have been finishing water buckets in the remaining four lodges, preparing the afternoon feedings, delivering the afternoon feedings, and getting ready to deliver meds. Thankfully, our team leader was available to come and get the rest of the waters and the feedings done while Megan and I addressed the Lodge 10 issue. It should also be noted that as we were moving dogs to their overnight accommodations, it was about 5 pm and Megan should have been gone at 4. In the end, everybody should have a dry, warm place to sleep tonight and the flooding seems to have stopped in the building for now. The level of the puddle that is draining water into the building is, for now at least, below a small hole in the wood siding that seems to be the entry point; tomorrow we may be picking a trench from the puddle away from the building in an effort to stop the seepage until the siding can be patched or replaced. I was also able to investigate further the source of the water in the neighboring building - we weren’t able to check it our very well when we found it since we had two rather confused and excited dogs to contain. That leak seems to be a much easier fix (for now), a puddle has been accumulating outside the door of one of the runs and is seeping inside because the water has reached floor level.
The bigger issue here is that these building are built on hills of sand that don’t so much absorb water as just shuttle it further down hill and the buildings are in the way. They are also woefully lacking in proper roof drainage, meaning that virtually all of the snow melting off the roof is simply dropping to the ground eighteen inches from the building and it is a toss up as to whether the ground slopes down into the building or slopes out away from the building, which can make a big difference when it comes to wet feet or dry feet.
So, while Lodges Awesome didn’t exactly have an awesome day, there are always some kinks to be expected and Megan and I were able to rely on our co-workers to help pick up some of the slack. Tomorrow is a new day and I think we might just ask for a “do-over” on today to prove our awesomeness. I am proud of the fact that we were able to get the dogs taken care of and address the issue as much as possible today, but it was also a mentally and physically exhausting day that I really hope we don’t have to repeat tomorrow.
(All photos copyright Best Friends Animal Society.)
As I mentioned in a previous post, the Lodges is being divided into two separate areas. The original team of six staff has been split into two teams of three and the two-sided kitchen has been split down the middle - we are still waiting for the red tape to mark off our territory. When the division happened, we were termed Lodges A and Lodges B until better names could be thought up. As a joke, I, a member of Lodges A, started calling us “Lodges Awesome” while the other side was “Lodges Boring”. To a certain degree the “Lodges Awesome” is sticking around a bit, mostly in jest - and even more so after today . . . I think I may have spoken too soon.
Everything started out fine today, it is Sunday, which means it is our dog park day - we have a two acre dog park and each day of the week a different area has use of it. Sundays are Lodge day at the park, so we have decided to alternate mornings and afternoons between the two sides of the Lodges, since there aren’t enough days in the week to give both sides their own day. Lodges B had the park this morning and we would get it this afternoon. The morning went quite well and we got a pair of dogs out for a walk before it was time to start feedings. The meds got set up for the evening and tomorrow morning and then it was time to start delivering food. We even had enough time to start hand feeding some of the dogs in our area. Hand feeding is useful for a lot of different things, it can help to stop food aggressive dogs from guarding their bowl as they learn that the food comes from the people, not from the bowl and it can also be useful to socialize shy dogs. I was able to hand feed Dexter, a seemingly mild mannered dog that turns into a terror if you reach for his bowl before he is done with it or take too long to let go as you set it down.
We have been hand feeding him sporadically over the last several weeks and he is doing alright with it, but it will be nice to start doing it more consistently. After Dexter, I hand fed Quickdraw, a spunky little black ball of energy whose name fits him like you wouldn’t believe. He is very sweet and friendly, but get between him and food and you had better watch it. I have had him come at me twice, once leaving two small punctures in my hiking boot and a bruise on my foot. Both did really well and it was nice to have time to be able to start working on this issue.After lunch, we had to take care of a few things down at the clinic and then started poop scooping and changing water buckets. When we arrived at Lodge 10 we were a bit behind schedule, having only finished two lodges so far. When I walked in, I found a puddle of water in Ballsy’s run, it was in a strange spot, nowhere near his water bucket and I was concerned that he had either vomited a bunch of water or had peed a lot inside (very uncharacteristic of him), but it really just looked like water, not puked up water or pee. As I looked around I noticed some water in the adjoining run and went to investigate, only to find that the building was in fact slowly flooding from the melt water. I ended up spending the better part of the next hour heaving snow off the roof. Megan changed waters and then came up to join me on the roof and when we finished there, we began working on the giant puddle in Shelby ’s and Kasey’s run. The amount of water that was pooling into the building meant that we could not leave the dogs in the building over night. One of the residents of the building is a former feral that can not be leashed up right now, so we decided that, since their run was the least affected by the water, Dexter and Daphne could stay in their run and we could make a mini-flood wall for them with towels. We had three empty runs in the neighboring building (they are awaiting the arrival of the dogs from Texas, mentioned in a previous post), so we were going to put the dogs there overnight, but when we walked in, we found that at least one of the empty runs in the neighboring building was flooded as well, so it was onto plan B. A different area had three empty runs that they had offered if we needed them, so rather than walking dogs the thirty yards to the next building, we had to walk them all the way to the opposite end of Old Dogtown, but we were grateful for the space. I should mention here that while all of this was occupying Megan’s and my time, we should have been finishing water buckets in the remaining four lodges, preparing the afternoon feedings, delivering the afternoon feedings, and getting ready to deliver meds. Thankfully, our team leader was available to come and get the rest of the waters and the feedings done while Megan and I addressed the Lodge 10 issue. It should also be noted that as we were moving dogs to their overnight accommodations, it was about 5 pm and Megan should have been gone at 4. In the end, everybody should have a dry, warm place to sleep tonight and the flooding seems to have stopped in the building for now. The level of the puddle that is draining water into the building is, for now at least, below a small hole in the wood siding that seems to be the entry point; tomorrow we may be picking a trench from the puddle away from the building in an effort to stop the seepage until the siding can be patched or replaced. I was also able to investigate further the source of the water in the neighboring building - we weren’t able to check it our very well when we found it since we had two rather confused and excited dogs to contain. That leak seems to be a much easier fix (for now), a puddle has been accumulating outside the door of one of the runs and is seeping inside because the water has reached floor level.
The bigger issue here is that these building are built on hills of sand that don’t so much absorb water as just shuttle it further down hill and the buildings are in the way. They are also woefully lacking in proper roof drainage, meaning that virtually all of the snow melting off the roof is simply dropping to the ground eighteen inches from the building and it is a toss up as to whether the ground slopes down into the building or slopes out away from the building, which can make a big difference when it comes to wet feet or dry feet.
So, while Lodges Awesome didn’t exactly have an awesome day, there are always some kinks to be expected and Megan and I were able to rely on our co-workers to help pick up some of the slack. Tomorrow is a new day and I think we might just ask for a “do-over” on today to prove our awesomeness. I am proud of the fact that we were able to get the dogs taken care of and address the issue as much as possible today, but it was also a mentally and physically exhausting day that I really hope we don’t have to repeat tomorrow.
(All photos copyright Best Friends Animal Society.)
Don't Wear Wool in Vegas
"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” And let me just say, thank goodness for that! To clarify, I don’t mean that I have gotten up to any sorts of mischief in Vegas that I wouldn’t want the world at large to know about, but rather that I am just so very happy that the nonsense that is Vegas has, for the most part, stayed in Vegas, with a few forays into some of the Nevada border towns. Let me back up here and explain why I was in Vegas, a city that, most anyone who knows me knows, I could have died happy never having visited.
My dear friend Megan (pronounced Mee-gan, don’t mess it up!) used to live and work in Vegas after she left BF earlier last year and after a six-month stay in the city, returned to rural Kanab and back to her job as a dog caregiver at BF. She worked as an EMT/security guard at the Rio Casino, a job that she loved with people that she loved. She received word shortly after Christmas that one of her supervisors, a man she took great pleasure in knowing, had passed away.
The funeral was scheduled for Thursday (Jan 8) and she was planning to drive herself to Vegas after work on Wednesday - it is about a three and a half hour drive. I had been enlisted to watch her three dogs and an assortment of reptiles while she was gone for the overnight trip. However, her car decided to crap out on her at work on Wednesday, something about the fuel pump and filters, so, since Thursday and Friday are my days off anyway and I didn’t have any major plans, I told her I could take her out (she can’t drive my car because it is a stick and when someone else offered the use of their car she declined saying that she wasn’t comfortable driving that long of a distance in someone else’s car). Keeley was able to take over the pet sitting post and we were planning on leaving after work on Wednesday. There were a few snags along the way, namely that as we were walking out the door of her house, Trudy, one of her dogs bolted out the door and we ended up spending the next 45 minutes trying to track her down and then giving her the fastest dog bath I have ever seen because she had been across the street playing in the pasture and all it’s wonderful piles of poo.
We finally got on the road to Vegas around 9 pm. It really isn’t a bad drive and we had lots of interesting and entertaining conversations along the way. For those of you who have never driven into Vegas from the east at night, it is an experience . . . to say the least. After hours of driving in darkness through the desert with the occasional town or small city, you pass through the mountains and when you crest the final ridge, you are finally treated to the opulent glitter of the city that has been glowing on the distant horizon for the last hour. As you come down the hill, Vegas stretches out before you like an ocean of wasted electricity . . . yeah, you read that right, all I could think when I came over that last ridge was “Holy crap, could they waste any more electricity if they tried?!?” Still several miles from the outskirts of the city I could feel myself tensing up at the thought of the ridiculous waste that Vegas creates every minute of every single day.
As we worked our way into the city, it was approaching midnight local time and I was shocked at how many cars were on the highway at that hour on a Wednesday night. Driving into town, Megan looked at me with a slightly pained look on her face, the sort of look that says, I am about to ask you to do something I know you aren’t going to want to do, but you will do it anyway because you are my friend. “I know you aren’t going to like this, but the only way I know how to get to Angel’s house is from the Rio, and I was hoping we might be able to stop in there for a few minutes anyway so I can say hi to whoever is working tonight.”
As we walked into the casino, I felt like my retinas had started having seizures and that surely the rest of my body would follow suit soon enough. The blinking and dinging and vibrating and pinging and everything all atwitter was reminding me of the tales I have heard about people with seizure disorders being sent into an episode by the presence of flashing lights and I began to wonder if I might have just developed a seizure disorder myself. Not only was the visual and auditory experience overwhelming (to put it nicely) but the stench of cigarette and cigar smoke and the stifling heat made me want to run screaming from the building if I didn’t first pass out. When Megan asked if I was doing okay, I said I was just trying to do my best to not look like I really don’t belong here and she looked at me and said, “You don’t look like you belong here.” When I mentioned to Megan the ridiculous temperature inside the casino (which again reminded me of the ridiculous amount of waste of Vegas), she looked me up and down, wearing my jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and a zip-up wool cardigan and said, “Don’t wear wool in Vegas.”
We ran into a former co-worker and they chatted for a few minutes - he had absolutely no interest whatsoever in who I was or why I was standing there listening to their conversation . . . at least in a small town people tend to be polite enough in such situations to say hi and acknowledge your existence in the universe. After a quick chat, Megan thankfully led me from the casino and we made our way from the strip to her friend Angel’s house, with whom we would be staying, and slowly my retinas stopped seizing.
After some catching up and visiting we crawled into bed around 1:30 am; as he left the room, Angel warned us that his father gets up at 4am and his mother at 5am and his sister at 7am, what he didn’t tell us was that they had no idea there would be two girls sleeping in the middle of their living room floor, so as each family member woke and left, they flipped on a light somewhere nearby and were surprised to find a mess of blankets and two people on the floor. Angel works the night shift and doesn’t see much of his family and so, they were caught completely unaware of our presence. It also didn’t make for a very good night of sleep.
In the morning, we got ready for the funeral and were going to meet up with some of the other Rio security and EMT folks to catch up and have some breakfast before the service. I was quite hungry, having only eaten a slice of pizza and some traditional road munchies the night before. However, my hunger quickly evaporated when we arrived at a Carl’s, Jr. - for the easterners not familiar with the chain, it is something like a Burger King, they are owned by the same company that owns Hardees. Not exactly offering a menu full of vegetarian choices, I declined to eat and just had some water, Megan (a non-veggie) claimed she wasn’t hungry but admitted later that she wasn’t about to eat in front of me if I wasn’t going to eat - she is a very good friend.
Following the service we went to a bar for a toast to their departed supervisor. Of all the bars in Vegas, we just happened to walk into an Ohio State Football themed bar - there were photos and trophy replicas and flags and jerseys in a display case and a few things hung on the walls, I have learned in my two years away from Ohio that Ohio State is remarkably inescapable. When we asked the bartender why on earth a bar in Vegas is decorated in the scarlet and grey, she explained that it used to be a Nebraska bar because the owners are originally from Nebraska, but then the Cornhuskers (or whatever they are) started to suck and Nebraska fans are very fickle so they decided to theme the bar after another team. There was much discussion and one of the other bartenders (an Ohioan) really pushed for Ohio State. In the end, Ohio State won out because their fans are so fiercely dedicated that even when they suck, the bar will still be packed for game day. (If you don’t know Ohio State fans, you just don’t get it - picture the most rabid sports fan you know, multiply it by ten and you will be somewhere in the vicinity of an average Ohio State Fan - my brother has an Ohio State toothbrush.)
After a couple of hours at the bar, I announced that if I didn’t find some food soon, I may have to resort to eating my own arm. We drove back across town to Angel’s house, opting to take the city streets rather than the interstates - a choice I have yet to understand, crossing the Strip is a nightmare of traffic, for the distance we were driving it shouldn’t have taken more that half an hour but the trip took nearly an hour. My level of frustration at the traffic, combined with the lack of food in my stomach and the uncomfortable nature of my fancy-pants dress shoes made me want to kick somebody in the knees.
After packing up our things and thanking Angel for his hospitality, we took to the road in a search of food. We had one quick stop to make and then it was time to get some sustenance, unfortunately, Megan spent the vast majority of her time in Vegas going to work, home, or EMT classes and rarely ventured out into the city on her own. Her ex was the all knowing, directionally gifted one that knew all the great places to eat and exactly how to find them from virtually anywhere in the city - Megan was having trouble keeping track of the location of the Strip as we drove around, in spite of the towering building and cranes erecting more towering buildings. So we meandered through the city looking for someplace to eat, but everything we spotted was on the wrong side of the road or I was in the wrong lane and we were in too much traffic (again) to make any sudden movements. Finally we just gave up and decided that perhaps it would be better to just get on the road and stop for dinner in Mesquite. As we pulled onto the interstate ramp, we realized that we were jumping onto the highway at 5:03 pm, just in time for Vegas rush hour. Quickly rethinking our plan, we hopped off at the next exit a quarter-mile down the road and she looked at me with that same pained look of the night before. “Would you be totally against eating in a casino?” And to be honest, my stomach was thinking, “Casino’s are famous for their all-you-can-eat buffets and I could eat my weight in anything right about now.”
“No, I could do a casino,” I said, forgetting for a moment about the smoking and the fact that by eating in a casino, the casino would be getting my money, something I had vowed not to let happen. But I needed food, so I was willing to bend the rules a bit, at least I would be getting something in return for my money.
“There is an All-American Bar and Grill in the Rio and I am sure they will have something you can eat.” So, after an hour of fruitless searching and aimless driving, we were off to the Rio to find some food .
We finally reached the restaurant in the Rio and there were a few people ahead of us to be seated, as we waited, it occurred to me that it might be smart to check out the menu before we were committed to a table. Certainly a restaurant in a place as cosmopolitan and international as Las Vegas would have some vegetarian options, but alas it was not to be. I couldn’t even find some generic pasta dish that I could order sans chicken, there was nothing except for a side salad and perhaps a nice baked potato or some mashers. On most days, I could have made do, but I had not eaten anything all day other than some of the left over road munchies from the night before as we were meandering through Vegas in search of real food. I didn’t want some sad excuse for a vegetarian option in a casino grill, I wanted a real meal, preferably as big a my head. So we trudged back out to the car and just sat for a minute pondering the situation and our complete inability to pick a place to eat in a city of thousands of restaurants. Really, both of us would have preferred little elves appear in the car and whip up a magical feast, but that wasn’t happening so we had to make some choices.
As we discussed the option of enduring the rush hour traffic and making the 90 mile drive to Mesquite again, I was suddenly struck by the fact that I was ridiculously warm in spite of my car heater being turned to off, the thermostat on the neutral setting, and my wool-free attire. I felt like there was hot air blowing on my pants and with a startling belligerence directed at no one in particular I began ranting and raving about the temperature in my car and when I paused after questioning (in a rather unwarranted accusatory tone) Megan as to whether she was warm or not, she just stared at me with a confounded look of concern and announced, “We need to get you some food. We are not going to Mesquite.” She directed me where to turn out of the parking lot and we began driving again. After only a few blocks on Flamingo, we came across a Thai restaurant. One of the things I miss most about living in a city, or even near a city is the variety of food, in Kanab, we have fast food, a couple of American diner type places, and several Mexican restaurants. There isn’t even a greasy, bad Chinese place, the closest Asian restaurant is an hour away, which makes me sad because it is truly one of my favorite ways to eat out. So when I spotted Thai Spice, I was of course in the wrong lane and it was on the other side of the road. I almost gave up on the idea and continued driving, but then decided to pull a u-turn and head back. As soon as we walked in, I knew it was going to be good. The lights weren’t blinking, there were not video poker machines or slots crammed into the corners, aside from the open sign in the window, there wasn’t any neon lighting, it was quiet, and it didn’t reek from years of smoking and it wasn’t boiling hot inside. I had found my happy place. We ate dinner and I thoroughly enjoyed the calm and quiet atmosphere and the food was tasty and satisfying. Full and happy, we made our way back to the car and onto the interstate for the drive back to Kanab. By then the rush hour traffic had died down and we were able to escape the city without too much difficulty.
Megan asked that we stop at Wal-Mart in Mesquite, in spite of a deep and festering loathing for the chain, I agreed to the stop. As long as I didn’t have to buy anything, I would be fine - I had already pushed my limits nearly to their breaking point in Vegas, and the store was relatively empty (it was about 10 pm) and I was too worn out to even care that much, so I wandered aimlessly through the store with Megan for a little while and then we were back in the car.
“Okay, home now, no more stops!” Megan announced as we were pulling out of the parking lot. We still had about two hours to go before we got back to Kanab. There was, however, to be one more unplanned stop. As we were coming into a construction zone in the western outskirts of St George, I got pulled over for speeding. Now, let me just clarify here, I rarely speed, and if I do it is generally not more than a few miles an hour over the limit. While I tend to follow the rules in general, I have been learning more and more about fuel efficiency and am realizing that speeding, especially on the high-speed interstates of the American west kills your car’s fuel efficiency, so in spite of 75 mile per hour limits out here, I rarely press it above 70. As we came into the 60 mph construction zone, I slowed down and continued chatting with Megan and didn’t notice that as I was driving down a small slope, my car was slowly coasting up in speed. And then came the lights. And then a few choice words on my part as I pulled to the side of the road. I rolled down my window, pulled out my license, registration, and proof of insurance and tried to stop shaking and put out of my mind the possible fines I may have just earned myself being in a construction zone. Megan and I were patiently waiting for the officer to come to my window and we were both startled and momentarily confused when we heard a knocking sound coming from somewhere else. As I looked around, I found that the officer was standing at Megan’s window, not mine. Megan locked the doors in an effort to open the window, so I used my buttons to open her window. The officer asked if I had seen where the limit dropped to 60 and when I said I thought I was going 60, he informed me that he had gotten me at 67 - crap and a half! I apologized and he was very nice and said that there was no need for apologies and asked for my driver’s license. I gave him all my papers and license and he asked where we were going. We told him we were on our way back to Kanab and he asked from where we were coming. In my head, I groaned, I didn’t want to tell this officer that we were on our way back from Las Vegas at 10:30 pm, for it would certainly lead to more questions and probably assumptions of drinking and debauchery. But I also didn’t want to mention the funeral, I would never have wanted Megan to think that I was using her dead friend to get me out of a speeding ticket, so while I fumbled around in my head for the best way to spin the answer, Megan announced, “We are on our way back from a funeral in Las Vegas.” He asked a few more questions, most of which Megan answered - she was closer to him and my brain had apparently gone into vapor lock because I was having trouble forming words let alone complete sentences. Have I mentioned that she is a very good friend? Without even returning to his cruiser to run my license, the officer returned my documents and wished us a safe trip home. I was more relieved than I can say and he was very nice. He was part of the K-9 unit of the highway patrol, so before he left, Megan asked about his dog and they chatted for a minute and then we were on our way. As I merged back on the interstate, relieved to have not been hit with a speeding ticket and fines, and minding my speed carefully, Megan made the observation, “A turn signal might be nice.” I immediately flipped it on and we both started laughing. We made it home, exhausted, a few hours later. For all my new found dislike of Las Vegas, I should say, for a friend, I would do it all again without a moment’s hesitation.
I learned two very important things from my Vegas experience, 1) don't bother discussing energy efficiency and conservation with the locals, it is about as productive as hoping elves will cook you dinner in your car and 2) don’t wear wool in Vegas.
My dear friend Megan (pronounced Mee-gan, don’t mess it up!) used to live and work in Vegas after she left BF earlier last year and after a six-month stay in the city, returned to rural Kanab and back to her job as a dog caregiver at BF. She worked as an EMT/security guard at the Rio Casino, a job that she loved with people that she loved. She received word shortly after Christmas that one of her supervisors, a man she took great pleasure in knowing, had passed away.
The funeral was scheduled for Thursday (Jan 8) and she was planning to drive herself to Vegas after work on Wednesday - it is about a three and a half hour drive. I had been enlisted to watch her three dogs and an assortment of reptiles while she was gone for the overnight trip. However, her car decided to crap out on her at work on Wednesday, something about the fuel pump and filters, so, since Thursday and Friday are my days off anyway and I didn’t have any major plans, I told her I could take her out (she can’t drive my car because it is a stick and when someone else offered the use of their car she declined saying that she wasn’t comfortable driving that long of a distance in someone else’s car). Keeley was able to take over the pet sitting post and we were planning on leaving after work on Wednesday. There were a few snags along the way, namely that as we were walking out the door of her house, Trudy, one of her dogs bolted out the door and we ended up spending the next 45 minutes trying to track her down and then giving her the fastest dog bath I have ever seen because she had been across the street playing in the pasture and all it’s wonderful piles of poo.
We finally got on the road to Vegas around 9 pm. It really isn’t a bad drive and we had lots of interesting and entertaining conversations along the way. For those of you who have never driven into Vegas from the east at night, it is an experience . . . to say the least. After hours of driving in darkness through the desert with the occasional town or small city, you pass through the mountains and when you crest the final ridge, you are finally treated to the opulent glitter of the city that has been glowing on the distant horizon for the last hour. As you come down the hill, Vegas stretches out before you like an ocean of wasted electricity . . . yeah, you read that right, all I could think when I came over that last ridge was “Holy crap, could they waste any more electricity if they tried?!?” Still several miles from the outskirts of the city I could feel myself tensing up at the thought of the ridiculous waste that Vegas creates every minute of every single day.
As we worked our way into the city, it was approaching midnight local time and I was shocked at how many cars were on the highway at that hour on a Wednesday night. Driving into town, Megan looked at me with a slightly pained look on her face, the sort of look that says, I am about to ask you to do something I know you aren’t going to want to do, but you will do it anyway because you are my friend. “I know you aren’t going to like this, but the only way I know how to get to Angel’s house is from the Rio, and I was hoping we might be able to stop in there for a few minutes anyway so I can say hi to whoever is working tonight.”
As we walked into the casino, I felt like my retinas had started having seizures and that surely the rest of my body would follow suit soon enough. The blinking and dinging and vibrating and pinging and everything all atwitter was reminding me of the tales I have heard about people with seizure disorders being sent into an episode by the presence of flashing lights and I began to wonder if I might have just developed a seizure disorder myself. Not only was the visual and auditory experience overwhelming (to put it nicely) but the stench of cigarette and cigar smoke and the stifling heat made me want to run screaming from the building if I didn’t first pass out. When Megan asked if I was doing okay, I said I was just trying to do my best to not look like I really don’t belong here and she looked at me and said, “You don’t look like you belong here.” When I mentioned to Megan the ridiculous temperature inside the casino (which again reminded me of the ridiculous amount of waste of Vegas), she looked me up and down, wearing my jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and a zip-up wool cardigan and said, “Don’t wear wool in Vegas.”
We ran into a former co-worker and they chatted for a few minutes - he had absolutely no interest whatsoever in who I was or why I was standing there listening to their conversation . . . at least in a small town people tend to be polite enough in such situations to say hi and acknowledge your existence in the universe. After a quick chat, Megan thankfully led me from the casino and we made our way from the strip to her friend Angel’s house, with whom we would be staying, and slowly my retinas stopped seizing.
After some catching up and visiting we crawled into bed around 1:30 am; as he left the room, Angel warned us that his father gets up at 4am and his mother at 5am and his sister at 7am, what he didn’t tell us was that they had no idea there would be two girls sleeping in the middle of their living room floor, so as each family member woke and left, they flipped on a light somewhere nearby and were surprised to find a mess of blankets and two people on the floor. Angel works the night shift and doesn’t see much of his family and so, they were caught completely unaware of our presence. It also didn’t make for a very good night of sleep.
In the morning, we got ready for the funeral and were going to meet up with some of the other Rio security and EMT folks to catch up and have some breakfast before the service. I was quite hungry, having only eaten a slice of pizza and some traditional road munchies the night before. However, my hunger quickly evaporated when we arrived at a Carl’s, Jr. - for the easterners not familiar with the chain, it is something like a Burger King, they are owned by the same company that owns Hardees. Not exactly offering a menu full of vegetarian choices, I declined to eat and just had some water, Megan (a non-veggie) claimed she wasn’t hungry but admitted later that she wasn’t about to eat in front of me if I wasn’t going to eat - she is a very good friend.
Following the service we went to a bar for a toast to their departed supervisor. Of all the bars in Vegas, we just happened to walk into an Ohio State Football themed bar - there were photos and trophy replicas and flags and jerseys in a display case and a few things hung on the walls, I have learned in my two years away from Ohio that Ohio State is remarkably inescapable. When we asked the bartender why on earth a bar in Vegas is decorated in the scarlet and grey, she explained that it used to be a Nebraska bar because the owners are originally from Nebraska, but then the Cornhuskers (or whatever they are) started to suck and Nebraska fans are very fickle so they decided to theme the bar after another team. There was much discussion and one of the other bartenders (an Ohioan) really pushed for Ohio State. In the end, Ohio State won out because their fans are so fiercely dedicated that even when they suck, the bar will still be packed for game day. (If you don’t know Ohio State fans, you just don’t get it - picture the most rabid sports fan you know, multiply it by ten and you will be somewhere in the vicinity of an average Ohio State Fan - my brother has an Ohio State toothbrush.)
After a couple of hours at the bar, I announced that if I didn’t find some food soon, I may have to resort to eating my own arm. We drove back across town to Angel’s house, opting to take the city streets rather than the interstates - a choice I have yet to understand, crossing the Strip is a nightmare of traffic, for the distance we were driving it shouldn’t have taken more that half an hour but the trip took nearly an hour. My level of frustration at the traffic, combined with the lack of food in my stomach and the uncomfortable nature of my fancy-pants dress shoes made me want to kick somebody in the knees.
After packing up our things and thanking Angel for his hospitality, we took to the road in a search of food. We had one quick stop to make and then it was time to get some sustenance, unfortunately, Megan spent the vast majority of her time in Vegas going to work, home, or EMT classes and rarely ventured out into the city on her own. Her ex was the all knowing, directionally gifted one that knew all the great places to eat and exactly how to find them from virtually anywhere in the city - Megan was having trouble keeping track of the location of the Strip as we drove around, in spite of the towering building and cranes erecting more towering buildings. So we meandered through the city looking for someplace to eat, but everything we spotted was on the wrong side of the road or I was in the wrong lane and we were in too much traffic (again) to make any sudden movements. Finally we just gave up and decided that perhaps it would be better to just get on the road and stop for dinner in Mesquite. As we pulled onto the interstate ramp, we realized that we were jumping onto the highway at 5:03 pm, just in time for Vegas rush hour. Quickly rethinking our plan, we hopped off at the next exit a quarter-mile down the road and she looked at me with that same pained look of the night before. “Would you be totally against eating in a casino?” And to be honest, my stomach was thinking, “Casino’s are famous for their all-you-can-eat buffets and I could eat my weight in anything right about now.”
“No, I could do a casino,” I said, forgetting for a moment about the smoking and the fact that by eating in a casino, the casino would be getting my money, something I had vowed not to let happen. But I needed food, so I was willing to bend the rules a bit, at least I would be getting something in return for my money.
“There is an All-American Bar and Grill in the Rio and I am sure they will have something you can eat.” So, after an hour of fruitless searching and aimless driving, we were off to the Rio to find some food .
We finally reached the restaurant in the Rio and there were a few people ahead of us to be seated, as we waited, it occurred to me that it might be smart to check out the menu before we were committed to a table. Certainly a restaurant in a place as cosmopolitan and international as Las Vegas would have some vegetarian options, but alas it was not to be. I couldn’t even find some generic pasta dish that I could order sans chicken, there was nothing except for a side salad and perhaps a nice baked potato or some mashers. On most days, I could have made do, but I had not eaten anything all day other than some of the left over road munchies from the night before as we were meandering through Vegas in search of real food. I didn’t want some sad excuse for a vegetarian option in a casino grill, I wanted a real meal, preferably as big a my head. So we trudged back out to the car and just sat for a minute pondering the situation and our complete inability to pick a place to eat in a city of thousands of restaurants. Really, both of us would have preferred little elves appear in the car and whip up a magical feast, but that wasn’t happening so we had to make some choices.
As we discussed the option of enduring the rush hour traffic and making the 90 mile drive to Mesquite again, I was suddenly struck by the fact that I was ridiculously warm in spite of my car heater being turned to off, the thermostat on the neutral setting, and my wool-free attire. I felt like there was hot air blowing on my pants and with a startling belligerence directed at no one in particular I began ranting and raving about the temperature in my car and when I paused after questioning (in a rather unwarranted accusatory tone) Megan as to whether she was warm or not, she just stared at me with a confounded look of concern and announced, “We need to get you some food. We are not going to Mesquite.” She directed me where to turn out of the parking lot and we began driving again. After only a few blocks on Flamingo, we came across a Thai restaurant. One of the things I miss most about living in a city, or even near a city is the variety of food, in Kanab, we have fast food, a couple of American diner type places, and several Mexican restaurants. There isn’t even a greasy, bad Chinese place, the closest Asian restaurant is an hour away, which makes me sad because it is truly one of my favorite ways to eat out. So when I spotted Thai Spice, I was of course in the wrong lane and it was on the other side of the road. I almost gave up on the idea and continued driving, but then decided to pull a u-turn and head back. As soon as we walked in, I knew it was going to be good. The lights weren’t blinking, there were not video poker machines or slots crammed into the corners, aside from the open sign in the window, there wasn’t any neon lighting, it was quiet, and it didn’t reek from years of smoking and it wasn’t boiling hot inside. I had found my happy place. We ate dinner and I thoroughly enjoyed the calm and quiet atmosphere and the food was tasty and satisfying. Full and happy, we made our way back to the car and onto the interstate for the drive back to Kanab. By then the rush hour traffic had died down and we were able to escape the city without too much difficulty.
Megan asked that we stop at Wal-Mart in Mesquite, in spite of a deep and festering loathing for the chain, I agreed to the stop. As long as I didn’t have to buy anything, I would be fine - I had already pushed my limits nearly to their breaking point in Vegas, and the store was relatively empty (it was about 10 pm) and I was too worn out to even care that much, so I wandered aimlessly through the store with Megan for a little while and then we were back in the car.
“Okay, home now, no more stops!” Megan announced as we were pulling out of the parking lot. We still had about two hours to go before we got back to Kanab. There was, however, to be one more unplanned stop. As we were coming into a construction zone in the western outskirts of St George, I got pulled over for speeding. Now, let me just clarify here, I rarely speed, and if I do it is generally not more than a few miles an hour over the limit. While I tend to follow the rules in general, I have been learning more and more about fuel efficiency and am realizing that speeding, especially on the high-speed interstates of the American west kills your car’s fuel efficiency, so in spite of 75 mile per hour limits out here, I rarely press it above 70. As we came into the 60 mph construction zone, I slowed down and continued chatting with Megan and didn’t notice that as I was driving down a small slope, my car was slowly coasting up in speed. And then came the lights. And then a few choice words on my part as I pulled to the side of the road. I rolled down my window, pulled out my license, registration, and proof of insurance and tried to stop shaking and put out of my mind the possible fines I may have just earned myself being in a construction zone. Megan and I were patiently waiting for the officer to come to my window and we were both startled and momentarily confused when we heard a knocking sound coming from somewhere else. As I looked around, I found that the officer was standing at Megan’s window, not mine. Megan locked the doors in an effort to open the window, so I used my buttons to open her window. The officer asked if I had seen where the limit dropped to 60 and when I said I thought I was going 60, he informed me that he had gotten me at 67 - crap and a half! I apologized and he was very nice and said that there was no need for apologies and asked for my driver’s license. I gave him all my papers and license and he asked where we were going. We told him we were on our way back to Kanab and he asked from where we were coming. In my head, I groaned, I didn’t want to tell this officer that we were on our way back from Las Vegas at 10:30 pm, for it would certainly lead to more questions and probably assumptions of drinking and debauchery. But I also didn’t want to mention the funeral, I would never have wanted Megan to think that I was using her dead friend to get me out of a speeding ticket, so while I fumbled around in my head for the best way to spin the answer, Megan announced, “We are on our way back from a funeral in Las Vegas.” He asked a few more questions, most of which Megan answered - she was closer to him and my brain had apparently gone into vapor lock because I was having trouble forming words let alone complete sentences. Have I mentioned that she is a very good friend? Without even returning to his cruiser to run my license, the officer returned my documents and wished us a safe trip home. I was more relieved than I can say and he was very nice. He was part of the K-9 unit of the highway patrol, so before he left, Megan asked about his dog and they chatted for a minute and then we were on our way. As I merged back on the interstate, relieved to have not been hit with a speeding ticket and fines, and minding my speed carefully, Megan made the observation, “A turn signal might be nice.” I immediately flipped it on and we both started laughing. We made it home, exhausted, a few hours later. For all my new found dislike of Las Vegas, I should say, for a friend, I would do it all again without a moment’s hesitation.
I learned two very important things from my Vegas experience, 1) don't bother discussing energy efficiency and conservation with the locals, it is about as productive as hoping elves will cook you dinner in your car and 2) don’t wear wool in Vegas.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Changing Plans and Visiting Angels
And here is a post that was written when the time stamps says it was (scroll down for one I wrote last week but couldn't post until today).
It has been an interesting week, in good ways mostly. Things are changing quite a lot up at the Lodges. Our long term plan has been made a little longer-term because BF will be receiving about twenty dogs from a rescue group in Texas that took dogs from BF during the Katrina rescues and is now shutting down. As per the contracts that BF signed with groups that took in their rescues from Nola, BF is still ultimately responsible for the care of any animals, so now, three years later, we are taking in twenty dogs for whom they can no longer care. We will be getting several up at the Lodges, but nothing is for sure until they get here.
The trainers have been trying to get Jerry Lee into a run with a group but it hasn't been going very well. 
Interestingly, we were told that Jerry Lee doesn't do well with other males and so he wasn't put into a group, but he hasn't shown any dog aggression to speak of at BF so a few weeks ago they did an assessment and determined that he isn't really dog aggressive in spite of what we were told when he came to BF. They first tried him in a run up at Conrad's and Leopold's and the male dog in the run jumped him, which terrified Jerry Lee, but he didn't fight back. Then they tried him in a run at Octagons 1 & 2 and again the male dog chased him around and jumped him, so he is back at the Lodges until we can find a place for him where he isn't going to get harassed. He is an incredibly good dog, I have never seen any aggression from him and I am really hoping that we can try and get his collar color reassessed.
Interestingly, we were told that Jerry Lee doesn't do well with other males and so he wasn't put into a group, but he hasn't shown any dog aggression to speak of at BF so a few weeks ago they did an assessment and determined that he isn't really dog aggressive in spite of what we were told when he came to BF. They first tried him in a run up at Conrad's and Leopold's and the male dog in the run jumped him, which terrified Jerry Lee, but he didn't fight back. Then they tried him in a run at Octagons 1 & 2 and again the male dog chased him around and jumped him, so he is back at the Lodges until we can find a place for him where he isn't going to get harassed. He is an incredibly good dog, I have never seen any aggression from him and I am really hoping that we can try and get his collar color reassessed.As I mentioned before, Rex has gone home and his runmate, Sophie, has an application and her new people will be coming out later this month to meet her.
As well, sweet little Ophelia is going to become a Maryland dog, she will be leaving to go to her new family once transport can be arranged, I am so happy that she has found her forever home!
And, Savannah has an application, so she is going through heartworm treatment (she was rescued from a shelter after Hurricane Gustav) and then her prospective people are going to come meet her with their dogs and if that all goes well, she will go home, too.
And finally, I got a call a couple of days ago that Oreo has a really good application as well. His prospective mom will be coming out later this month to meet him and if it all goes well, she will take him back to Vegas in February. 
Of course, none of these are completely definite but they are all very good prospects and it will be nice to see so many more dogs going into forever homes!
As well, sweet little Ophelia is going to become a Maryland dog, she will be leaving to go to her new family once transport can be arranged, I am so happy that she has found her forever home!And, Savannah has an application, so she is going through heartworm treatment (she was rescued from a shelter after Hurricane Gustav) and then her prospective people are going to come meet her with their dogs and if that all goes well, she will go home, too.And finally, I got a call a couple of days ago that Oreo has a really good application as well. His prospective mom will be coming out later this month to meet him and if it all goes well, she will take him back to Vegas in February. Of course, none of these are completely definite but they are all very good prospects and it will be nice to see so many more dogs going into forever homes!I have also started taking dogs home occasionally on sleepovers. My first guest was Tasha (of course) and she did wonderfully. 
She met my friend and former roommate Carissa and her dogs and did great with all of them. Back at my house, she did really great, there was almost not growling or snapping - the few occurrences all happened when I was intentionally pushing her boundaries and she stopped as soon as I let her know that her behavior was not acceptable. She is becoming very trusting with me and really starting to let down her guard with new people. I also too Ophelia home for a night and she did very well, too. She has been a sleepover superstar for a long time now and she was delightful with me as well. She tends to get a little nervous in new situations, so I want to get her exposed to some new things before she goes to her new home so that the transition won't be as difficult for her - though really, I think she will settle in very quickly.
She met my friend and former roommate Carissa and her dogs and did great with all of them. Back at my house, she did really great, there was almost not growling or snapping - the few occurrences all happened when I was intentionally pushing her boundaries and she stopped as soon as I let her know that her behavior was not acceptable. She is becoming very trusting with me and really starting to let down her guard with new people. I also too Ophelia home for a night and she did very well, too. She has been a sleepover superstar for a long time now and she was delightful with me as well. She tends to get a little nervous in new situations, so I want to get her exposed to some new things before she goes to her new home so that the transition won't be as difficult for her - though really, I think she will settle in very quickly.The other major change that is happening up at the Lodges is that we are splitting the Lodges into two areas to bring down the number of dogs that we as caregivers have to monitor. So, starting this Sunday, I will be part of the Lodges A team (we will come up with better names) and will only be caring for the dogs in seven lodges, rather than fifteen. I think it is going to be a really good change for the caregivers and the dogs alike, but it will be hard to not be working with some of the dogs that I have grown to really love. Tasha is still in my area, so I will get to continue to work with her, but Jerry Lee will be in Lodges B, so I won't get to spend much time with him anymore, of course he is probably going to be moving out of the Lodges all together, soon, when they find a group that won't pick on him. And there are many more that I will miss, but it will be nice to have fewer dogs in my care and fewer people to have to work with - I don't mean that the way it sounds, but when you and your coworkers are going in fifteen different directions all the time, it can be really hard to come together and have a discussion about anything and it always seems to take several days for suggested changes to take place because ideas have to be run by everyone and discussed and it just gets tricky working with six people, now I will have two other people on my team.
If you haven't had enough BF talk after all this, you should read this article - http://celebrate.bestfriends.org/news/cancer-survivor-gives-the-gift-of-membership.aspx, Nicole is a volunteer that just survived breast cancer and came to volunteer for three weeks at BF and she spent the majority of her time in dog and most of that was up at the Lodges so we all got the chance to get to know her and love her. On her second to last day in town (this isn't in the article but it should be!), she took a day off from volunteering at the sanctuary and drove the 160 miles round trip to go to St George on a major shopping spree for the dogs of the Lodges. She came back with a rental car crammed with beds, blankets, leashes, harnesses and treats, just for the Lodge kids. Some of her friends donated cash to the venture, so now we have lots nice, new goodies for our dogs. She is a really amazing person and I can't wait to see her on her next visit . . . did I mention that she arrived at BF just three days after she finished her last radiation treatment - what a woman!!!
I will bring this one to an end now, it has been a while since I posted and this one has gotten a little out of control, but stay tuned for an upcoming post about my recent adventure to Las Vegas . . .
(All photos copyright Best Friends Animal Society.)
Good Changes and Fond Farewells
Let me start out by saying that I am writing this blog on Friday, January 2, 2009 (Happy New Year!), in spite of what the blogger time stamp may be. I am writing this on my computer at home and will post it to the Internet later - I don’t have an Internet connection at my house. Now to the actual post . . .
I got back to work on Tuesday, after a very long day of travel on Monday, fortunately I didn’t have any problems or delays getting back - doesn’t it always seem to be the case that when you are traveling, you have all the delays and bung-ups going to the place you really want to be (getting the vacation started, getting back from a business trip, getting to the South Pole, etc). Upon my return to the Lodges, not too much had changed, in fact, I was a bit surprised at how little had actually changed. Two dogs swapped runs and one dog, Gina, got adopted, but other than that, things were pretty much the same. Apparently, the people that adopted Gina (a Lodge dog for less than two weeks), came to BF to volunteer just before Christmas. They had agreed before their arrival that they would not be adopting any dogs since they have an eighteen month old lab at home in Indiana and then they met little Miss Gina and they weren’t leaving without her. It was only a matter of time before this little girl found her way into a home, she is spunky and small and outgoing in an adorable kind of way that just makes you smile.
I was a little worried that some of the dogs might give me a bit of a hard time since it had been a week since I had been around. I, and my fellow caregivers, have been making such wonderful progress with Tasha, but I had found that sometimes when I came back from my weekends, she had taken a small step backward from where she was when I left, so I was really unsure what to expect from her, but to my great surprise she was very happy to see me and has been incredibly trusting and doing very well with her training. Over the course of several weeks before I left, I was working on “Kiss” with her. It started out by putting a piece of biscuit or kibble between my lips and letting her take it from me - she was always very gentle, she is good with treats, but when she was taking them from my mouth, she was always extra careful. After a few tries, I started including the command “Kiss”, then after a few days, I would ask for a kiss without the treat between my lips and when she would touch her nose/mouth to my lips, she would get the treat. Now, if she knows I have a treat and sitting isn’t getting the job done, she will try the kiss to see if that will open the "cookie jar" and while before, she would always get stage fright when I would ask her for a kiss in front of other people, she is now kissing both Keeley and Megan on command as well. The next step is to get a brave “stranger” (aka someone that doesn’t work with her regularly) to try the kiss and see if she will do it. I have also been starting to work with her on target training and she is proving to be quite the pro at it as well. For those of you who don’t know what target training is, you teach a dog to touch a target, often your hand at the beginning, and then you can start transferring the target to other things, like light switches and doors. I had tried targeting several months ago, but I would always wear gloves and if I tried with bare hands she didn’t really get what I wanted, I think when she would touch the gloves, it was because she wanted to smell them, but now she is doing it like she has known how to do it all along, plus there is more of a relationship between us now and we understand each other better than a few months ago. She has also started jumping up on me with her front feet and then stretching her body out and arching her back while I pet her. I would sometimes hold up a treat and ask her to jump up on me to get it and she would do it but as soon as she had the treat she would put her feet firmly back on the floor, she always seemed a little nervous and uncomfortable with this kind of contact, but now she is completely different. Jumping up can be a signal of dominance, but it also shows a confidence and comfort that she didn't have before and she hasn’t done it at inappropriate times so far. As well, stretching is a good sign that she is getting more and more comfortable with me. It was really nice to come back and find that she doesn’t seem to have taken any steps backward and has actually continued to move forward.
On Tuesday, Rex’s (aka Sexy Rexy) new people arrived and I got to introduce them to their new dog, it was very cool. He was a little aloof with them and his runmate Sophie put in a very good effort to try and steal the show, but they were smitten. He met their other two dogs the following day and then they took him on a sleep over. He came back for the day on Thursday and then when Terry took him down for another sleepover with them that evening, they told her that they didn’t want to bring him back anymore. He was theirs and they wanted to keep him for the rest of their time in Kanab. While she was very excited that Rexy had found such wonderful people, Terry did have to explain that they would have to bring him back at least one more time so that everyone could say good-bye, that is just how things work around Dogtown. They agreed that they would bring him back at least one more time before they left town, probably on Saturday, but I talked Megan after work today (I had the day off) and she said they brought him up for a farewell visit today and might not come back up tomorrow. I am a little disappointed that I might not get to say good-bye, but even if I don’t get to see him off, I am very happy for him to have found such nice people and I really hope that he has a wonderful life with them!
Well, that is about all I have for today, I hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year. My wish for 2009 is that this Earth and all her inhabitants will find in them the spirit of peace that has been so lacking of late and we can all learn to delight in the differences of our fellow humans (and all creatures for that matter).
As a final note, I would like to offer my deepest condolences to Jane Goodall and the staff of the Jane Goodall Institute on the passing of Gregoire, he was an inspiring reminder that all creatures on this Earth deserve the deepest respect and honor humanity can offer. He will be missed. You can read his story here: http://janegoodall.org/gregoire/default1.asp.
I got back to work on Tuesday, after a very long day of travel on Monday, fortunately I didn’t have any problems or delays getting back - doesn’t it always seem to be the case that when you are traveling, you have all the delays and bung-ups going to the place you really want to be (getting the vacation started, getting back from a business trip, getting to the South Pole, etc). Upon my return to the Lodges, not too much had changed, in fact, I was a bit surprised at how little had actually changed. Two dogs swapped runs and one dog, Gina, got adopted, but other than that, things were pretty much the same. Apparently, the people that adopted Gina (a Lodge dog for less than two weeks), came to BF to volunteer just before Christmas. They had agreed before their arrival that they would not be adopting any dogs since they have an eighteen month old lab at home in Indiana and then they met little Miss Gina and they weren’t leaving without her. It was only a matter of time before this little girl found her way into a home, she is spunky and small and outgoing in an adorable kind of way that just makes you smile.
I was a little worried that some of the dogs might give me a bit of a hard time since it had been a week since I had been around. I, and my fellow caregivers, have been making such wonderful progress with Tasha, but I had found that sometimes when I came back from my weekends, she had taken a small step backward from where she was when I left, so I was really unsure what to expect from her, but to my great surprise she was very happy to see me and has been incredibly trusting and doing very well with her training. Over the course of several weeks before I left, I was working on “Kiss” with her. It started out by putting a piece of biscuit or kibble between my lips and letting her take it from me - she was always very gentle, she is good with treats, but when she was taking them from my mouth, she was always extra careful. After a few tries, I started including the command “Kiss”, then after a few days, I would ask for a kiss without the treat between my lips and when she would touch her nose/mouth to my lips, she would get the treat. Now, if she knows I have a treat and sitting isn’t getting the job done, she will try the kiss to see if that will open the "cookie jar" and while before, she would always get stage fright when I would ask her for a kiss in front of other people, she is now kissing both Keeley and Megan on command as well. The next step is to get a brave “stranger” (aka someone that doesn’t work with her regularly) to try the kiss and see if she will do it. I have also been starting to work with her on target training and she is proving to be quite the pro at it as well. For those of you who don’t know what target training is, you teach a dog to touch a target, often your hand at the beginning, and then you can start transferring the target to other things, like light switches and doors. I had tried targeting several months ago, but I would always wear gloves and if I tried with bare hands she didn’t really get what I wanted, I think when she would touch the gloves, it was because she wanted to smell them, but now she is doing it like she has known how to do it all along, plus there is more of a relationship between us now and we understand each other better than a few months ago. She has also started jumping up on me with her front feet and then stretching her body out and arching her back while I pet her. I would sometimes hold up a treat and ask her to jump up on me to get it and she would do it but as soon as she had the treat she would put her feet firmly back on the floor, she always seemed a little nervous and uncomfortable with this kind of contact, but now she is completely different. Jumping up can be a signal of dominance, but it also shows a confidence and comfort that she didn't have before and she hasn’t done it at inappropriate times so far. As well, stretching is a good sign that she is getting more and more comfortable with me. It was really nice to come back and find that she doesn’t seem to have taken any steps backward and has actually continued to move forward.
On Tuesday, Rex’s (aka Sexy Rexy) new people arrived and I got to introduce them to their new dog, it was very cool. He was a little aloof with them and his runmate Sophie put in a very good effort to try and steal the show, but they were smitten. He met their other two dogs the following day and then they took him on a sleep over. He came back for the day on Thursday and then when Terry took him down for another sleepover with them that evening, they told her that they didn’t want to bring him back anymore. He was theirs and they wanted to keep him for the rest of their time in Kanab. While she was very excited that Rexy had found such wonderful people, Terry did have to explain that they would have to bring him back at least one more time so that everyone could say good-bye, that is just how things work around Dogtown. They agreed that they would bring him back at least one more time before they left town, probably on Saturday, but I talked Megan after work today (I had the day off) and she said they brought him up for a farewell visit today and might not come back up tomorrow. I am a little disappointed that I might not get to say good-bye, but even if I don’t get to see him off, I am very happy for him to have found such nice people and I really hope that he has a wonderful life with them!
Well, that is about all I have for today, I hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year. My wish for 2009 is that this Earth and all her inhabitants will find in them the spirit of peace that has been so lacking of late and we can all learn to delight in the differences of our fellow humans (and all creatures for that matter).
As a final note, I would like to offer my deepest condolences to Jane Goodall and the staff of the Jane Goodall Institute on the passing of Gregoire, he was an inspiring reminder that all creatures on this Earth deserve the deepest respect and honor humanity can offer. He will be missed. You can read his story here: http://janegoodall.org/gregoire/default1.asp.
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