Tag: dog lover

A Tale of Two Dogs

My Wife and I were Driving Down a Desolate Road that runs through the Wooded Countryside about an Hour away. We saw the Car which was a ways down the Road in front of Us Pump its Brake Lights before pulling over and Parking on the side of the Road. Once the Car was parked what appeared to be a Soccer Mom Hopped out looking a bit Rattled. My Wife wondered Aloud what was going on with the Whole Soccer Mom thing was about. It was then I informed My Wife that I saw something Running around in the Road. It appeared to an Animal (that I safely assumed was a Dog considering our Location and Surrounding) about 40 Feet In Front of the Soccer Mom who was Now Standing on the Side of the Road watching Whatever was in the Road intently.

We pulled over and Parked to see what was Exactly going on, and to see if We might be of Service in some way which was the Case. We walked up to the Soccer Mom who was still standing motionless in the same spot on the Side of the Road. As We were walking up to the Woman We noticed that it was in fact a Dog that looked Friendly enough, but at the same Time a Bit Leary of Strangers. The Soccer Mom told US that the Reason She had stoped was She had seen the Dog wondering in the Road, and when She got nearer to the Dog it started Nervously Zig Zagging back and forth across the Road.

            

Now while this was a what most would call a “Back Road” there was virtually No traffic to Speak of. That didn’t mean the Dog was Safe from being Struck and more than likely Killed by a Car You see on These lone Roads People use Speed Limits as fucking Suggestions. Suggestions They promptly Ignore and Speed like Sons of Bitches sometimes Crashing Their Vehicles and Accidentally Killing Themselves. The point being if Someone came Speeding down the Road and the Dog was in the Road there Sadly wouldn’t be jack shit Anyone could have done about it.

My Wife and I both Worked in the Veterinary Field for over 10 Years, are Pet People, and Avid Animal Lovers (Yes I’m one those Cliche Anti Social Stereotypes that Prefers the Company of Animals over that of His fellow Man) which definitely worked in Our Favor here. The Dog looked to be a Tan Hound or Hound Mix of Some Sort which made Perfect Sense for the Area where almost Everyone Hunts, and that makes Hunting Dogs a Extremely Valuable Commodity in the Community.

We knelt down and The Dog came to Us with No Objection or Fear and then We could get a better look at it. It was a Light Tan Female Hound Mix that was Lean as could be with a Solid Gray Muzzle that showed off Her advanced Age. Luckily for Us in this Case the Dog had a Not Only a Collar, but It had a Tag with Pertinent Information like Name and Owner’s Phone Number. Now I say Luckily because out in the Woods People have a Very Old School Attitude when it comes to Pet Dogs/ Farm Dogs/Country Dogs, but I’ll circle around back to that a Little later on.

           

The Next Issue We had to Combat was the that We were on such a Lonely Stretch of Highway Not one of the Three of Us could get a fucking Signal worth a Damn. Not only that but None of Us was from the Area as We were just like everyone else Driving Through on Their way Somewhere else. At last the Soccer Mom prevailed and got a Sketchy Signal and Called the Number on the Dog’s Collar while trying hard as hell not to more a single inch as to Not lose the Shaky Cell Signal. After a couple of Rings a Gruff and Unfriendly Man answered who took damn near 5 fucking Minutes to be able to Figure Out why the Soccer Mom was bothering Him with the Phone Call. The Man sounded like one of those Miserable Bastards that hates His Life and Has given Up all Hope so They spend the Remainder of His Days being a Deliberate Dick about it.

The Douchebag on the Phone tells Us (since the Phone was on Speaker) He lives 2 Hours away somewhere, It’s actually His Dad’s Dog, and since His Dad lived “In the Area” He suggested We turn the Dog loose, and She’d use Her instincts to get back Home. The Soccer Mom though to Her credit DID NOT and WAS NOT going to Leave the Dog alone on the Side of the Road No Matter What since She thought the Dog was at Risk of Being Hit By a Car.

I couldn’t figure out if the Douchebag Son was being Difficult just for the sake of it (Though in all due fairness Out in those parts of the Woods People aren’t accustomed to Visitors, and are generally weary of Strangers/Outsiders) or if He simply couldn’t care less or What His deal was, BUT He simply ignored the Soccer Mom’s request for His Father’s Phone Number or Since He lived “In the Area” His address and She’d even drive the Dog back Home.

           

It was like I said all in vain as The Son just kept bitching about not Bothering to do shit, and just turning the Dog loose back on the Road where it was Found. Finally the Son begrudgingly told the Soccer Mom he’d Text Her His Father’s address, But His Father was currently at Work so Obviously He wouldn’t be Home. We waited trying to figure out if the Text was taking a while since reception was almost non existent out where We were OR if the Son being the Dickbag that He was had No Intention of sending said Text, and said so just to get the fuck off the Phone.

As We waited killing the Time by talking shit about what an asshole the Son was We suddenly noticed Not One but Two Other Additional Dogs wonder Out of the Woods and directly into the Road. They were a Pair of Labs One Yellow that seemed Skittish even from a far, and a Big Old Husky Chocolate Lab who turned out to be a Male crossed the Road to the side We were on, and lumbered on Down to see Us. As for His less than trusting Partner He/She opted to return into the Woods rather than come and see what We were about. And as Luck would have it the Chocolate Lab had a Collar and Tag too which in these parts was literally like Lighting Striking Twice I assure You. So again We proceeded to locate a Shady signal and call the Number on the Dog’s Collar and got Very Different Results to say the Least.

The Young Man on the Phone was Surprised His Dog had gotten out of the Yard, and even made the comment The Dog had never done so before. He said thank You for holding onto His Dog and Letting Him Know He was loose, and said He lived Near by and Was on His Way to Retrieve His Dog. About Ten Minutes Later or So a Large Jacked Up Pick Up Truck with Mud Caked Tires, and Hunting Dog Kennels/Cages in the occupying the Bed of the Truck came driving down the Road. The Chocolate Lab became more and more excited as the Truck Approached as He was well aware it was His Master Coming. The Truck pulled up and Stopped right next to Us before a Young Man looking to be in His Mid too Late Twenties climbed Out of the Cab dressed in Camouflage Pants, Neon Orange T-Shirt, John Dear Baseball Cap, and Beat Up Shit Kicker Boots.

              

He thanked Us again before letting US know That the Lab Named Pooh (I assume after Winnie-The-Pooh, but it could have been a Fecal Reference) was the Ripe Old Age of 10 though He didn’t seem to Know it, and had due to His age and Age oriented Hip Issues had recently been Retired from Hunting. The Young Man said it sucks because He honestly misses having Pooh with Him after a Decade Hunting together, but HE didn’t want to be the asshole who Runs His Dog all Day Hunting only to have the Dog’s Hips go to shit at the end of the Day. Unfortunately for Pooh He didn’t feel the same way about His Age because all Pooh Knew was the Thrill of the Hunt proving You can take the Dog out of the Hunt, But You can’t take the Hunt out of the Dog. The Young Man Attempted to get Pooh to load up into one of the Kennels/Cages in the Back of the Truck, which He did half assed being Pooh preferred to Ride in the Cab along with His Master. The Young Man joked that Pooh may not enjoy the Perks of Retirement as of Yet He has asserted that if He was in fact Retired then Why should He ride in the Back where the Current Hunting Dogs Rode. And with That the Young Man and Pooh Drove off towards Home.

While We were happy to get Pooh back where He belonged My Wife, Soccer Mom, Tan Dog, and Myself were still stuck in Our Original Dilemma. It Turned out that the Douchebag Son had texted His Father’s Address , and the Text had come in sometime while We were talking with Pooh’s Dad.As I said earlier None of Us knew where the hell We were, and We couldn’t GPS the Address since the Cell Reception was Abysmal. My Wife and I decided (due to the fact We had more Animal Experience along with a better Understanding of such things as Lost Pets) We would take the Dog Home thus relieving the Distressed Soccer Mom to Go on with Her Day. The Soccer Mom was quite thankful to be relieved of Duty at it were. The Soccer Mom thanked Us for stopping and Helping, and to have a Great Day before She drove off to wherever it was She was initially Headed.

             

Then We loaded Up the Dog who seemed comfortable with Cars into the Backseat, and proceeded to Drive for 6-7 minutes until We had decent Cell reception. Once We had reception We entered the Address into Google Maps and off We Went. It turned out The Tan Dog Lived a ways down a Dirt Road that if You didn’t know was there You’d miss it. After several minutes of getting the World’s Shittiest Message thanks to the uneven terrain arrived at the Dog’s House. The House was a Double Wide Mobile Home that was Set  around 3 Blocks or so Back from the Dirt Road, and Had a Tall and Foreboding Fence Topped with Barbwire. There were signs plastered all over the Place From No Trespassing to Warning Cameras in Use making the Place seem even More Unwelcoming. It felt to Me like I was Standing On the Property line of some Mentally Ill, Severely Paranoid, Doomsday Preppier Conspiracy Theorist in a Tin Foil Hat holding a Shotgun.

We couldn’t hoist the Dog over the Fence so We located a Large Iron Cattle Gate that was being used to Block Access to the Driveway that had a Rusty Old Tow Chain wrapped around it to keep it closed. My Wife messed with the Chain and Realized there was No Pad Lock so all She had to do was uncoil the Chain and let the Dog back into the Yard. So We did just That accept as soon as We got the Dog back in the Yard it immediately Slipped Under the Cattle Gate since it was a Dirt Driveway the Dog had dug under it to get Free. This was a huge kick in the metaphorical Balls. We had at last gotten the Dog out of Harms way and Home only to be fucked over by a Shitty Gate Issue.

              

It was then I saw the Neighbor down the way arriving Home so I figured He might be useful in some manner. My Wife and I made the short trek down the Road to the Neighbors House, and walked up just as a Old Man was headed towards the Front Door. We called out and got His attention, and He came down the Drive to meet Us. He was a Very British Man who was a Nice as could possibly Be who informed Us He had seen the Dog running the Neighborhood several times before, but He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of The Dog in 6 weeks. Now I said I’d come back around to this and here We are as The British Gentlemen said there wasn’t a lot anyone could do in General since the “People around here have a very Country Attitude about Dogs”. This is why I said previously in this post that a Dog with a Collar was Uncommon and Tags are unheard of. In these Parts People put their Dogs out in the Morning, let them Run Amok, and Then the Dog(s) return Home for Dinner at Night.  We chatted with the British Gentlemen a while longer and then started to make Our way back to Our car that was parked outside the Main Gate of The Dog’s House.

My Wife figured at least the Dog was back on familiar turf, and We had done al that We could have to Help, and I meanwhile was afraid as Soon as We started to Drive Off the Dog would Run After Us thus leaving the Issue Ultimately Unresolved. Thats when a Large White Pick Up Truck drove past us, Stopped, and Drove back to where We were in reverse. There was a pleasant Middle Aged Couple in the Truck that were the Neighbors that lived on the Opposite side of the Dog Owner’s Property, and were well acquainted with the Dog. We told them the Story and as We did the Dog hopped up into the Back of the Couple’s Pick Up. The Couple said they has seen Us and wanted to see if We needed Help because Our Car took a Shit on Us, and Not to Worry about the Dog. I felt a bit better that at least now there was someone else who could and was willing to keep an Eye on the Dog until Her idiotic owner returned Home from Work. As The Couple Drove Off the Dog gave Chase and I assume followed Them back to Their House which also made Me feel Better about things.

            

Now with BOTH Dogs back where They Belonged more or Less My Wife and I got into Our Car and went on Our Way.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

The Backyard Beasts Big Break

It was just one of those mundane and utterly uneventful night a few days back that was until 4:07am. And then all fucking Hell broke loose. My Wife had passed out in her favorite Lazy Boy Recliner around midnight or so, and I dozed off around a little before 3 am.

The Backyard Beasts had been more vocal than usual that evening which now that I think about it was some serious foreshadowing. It was the wailing, Whining, loud, and virtual nonstop barking of the Backyard Beasts that woke my very unamused Wife who then yelled about being woke up due to the son of a bitch beasts. This in turn immediately woke me up and I glanced at the clock which read 4:07 am.

My Wife was shuffling like mad around looking for a flashlight and her shoes. My shoes where near by under the coffee table so I snatched them up, put them on, turned off the alarm system, found my keys, unlocked the door, and bounded out to the front porch.

I start scanning the yard squinting like a motherfucker because we don’t have street lights being so far out in the woods. I cursed out loud for not getting a hold of a flashlight myself as I stared into the night. The I saw it. It was big solid black silhouette standing at the edge of the yard between two trees. The only reason I could see that much was thank to the aid of our neighbors rather promenade out door lights. Their lights backlit the street just enough to see the contrast between the black of night and the black of the beasts.

I yelled to my Wife that there was another Beast out here and that was exciting ours evidently though I was completely wrong. This is not uncommon here in the Woods where people let there dogs roam like free range chickens out and about at all hours doing whatever they please.

I then had a odd feeling and then it clicked. This wasn’t a neighbor’s Beast, it was one of ours, the Brother Beast. I ran down into the yard words the Beast shouting his name, and He came right over. I took hold of his collar with an steely grip of a fucking Bear trap.

My Wife had ran directly to the back gate (instead of entering from the house where the Beasts are forbidden to go) and opened it to go see what she could find the fuck out. In opening the back gate she inadvertently let out the 2nd of our pair of Beasts (their a Brother-Sister Team who are the absolutely inseparable. The Girl won’t follow her Brother so she stayed put in the yard and lamented loudly pleading with her Brother to come the fuck back already.)  The Girl then decided to go rejoin her Brother and tore off like a fucking rocket into the dead of night.

My Wife ran passed me to corral the Sister Beast as I passed her with the Brother Beast in tow. I put the Boy Beast back into the confines of the backyard, and went to help my Wife. All of a sudden I hear her proclaim allowed that she has BOTH Beasts now. I holler back that I’m going to get some leashes to tie up the Beasts while I go inspect the backyard to see where the Beast escaped from.

I searched relentlessly checking the fence, the yard, and looked for any clues such as did he go under or over the Fence? Was the back gate to the yard eft unlocked? That kind of shit. Well after inspecting the backyard I was stumped. So I did the only thing I could and that was to take the gamble. The gamble being that if I had my Wife return the Beasts to the backyard that instead of waiting for me to leave and then escaping again, but rather the Boy would be stupid enough to just go for it right in front of me. Luckily it was the latter.

The dumb bastard trotted around to the opposing side of the house, walked over to the far side of the Air Conditioner, crouched down to the ground by the section of the fence that meets the Home Office, and started to crawl under it like some solider at boot camp running a obstacle course. I hurried over, bent down, and grabbed the Beast at the base of his large tail. As I retrieved the Boy Beast from out under the fence I informed my Wife I found his way out.

I then set to work fixing the issue the best I could with what I had available at 4 fucking AM. First I used some small fence stakes to secure the bottom of the fence like doctor Frankenstein stitching up his Monster. I the placed to long and rather weighty spare wooden beams at the base to help block the dig site/zone. My Wife and I went inside to catch our breath. Then the Mournful Howling started up again. I ran out front and again spotted our Boy bouncing around gleefully in the front yard without a care in the world. I managed once again to catch hold of his collar and wrangled him back into the backyard.

I immediately went to inspect the escape site and saw he had maneuvered the beams out of the way and tore up/out damn near every fence stake. So this time we decided it be best to just section off that small 5 foot long and 3 foot wide area until morning (when I could go to Home Depot and load up on cinder blocks to line the bottom of the fence with. Dig under that you big bitch is the motto) We had a massive and heavy piece of Ply Wood left over from the construction of my Art Studio I had held onto. This was perfect for the job of blockade. It was Long enough to block the space,  tall enough neither Beast could jump or climb over or under it, and it was pretty damn heavy.

My Wife and I were on the porch winding down off our adrenaline fueled frustration when we heard deliberate scratching of claws against wood. We both ran out back again and saw that the leaning Ply Wood wasn’t going to cut it by itself as the Boy Beast was creeping through the space behind it. I went and got the previously used beams and wedged them up against the Ply Wood, but we still need more. I found some old, solid wood barn type doors left over from the previous owner and I knew they had some serious weight to them so I leaned both of them up against the ply Wood, andante again my Wife and I retired to the House.

Yet again We heard the Boy Beast testing the viability of the Ply Wood wall and for what seemed like the 5,000th time went to go evaluate the escape situation. We came to the conclusion the Ply Wood needed yet MORE securing so I went and fetched some of the mock rout iron gates that came in sections down at the Home Depot’s gardening center. I used the pieces of gate the pin the Ply Wood to the Air Conditioner, and it held fast.

Finally my Wife and I got a few more hours of sleep before waking for work. My Wife went off to work as per usual, and I fired up my Lap Top. Then after about an hour or two I heard the Girl Beast’s cry of desperation. I ran to a back window and peered out only to see that fucking son of a bitch Boy Beast standing on the dirt road behind our home office happier than a Prize Pig in shit. I went out and pretended I was giving his Sister a treat (I always give the Beasts a treat before heading out anywhere.), and just like a sucker at a used car dealer he bought it.

I then called my Wife in a foul fit of anger (and exasperation) and told her what happened, and that outside of killing them or myself had come to the end of my rope. She instructed me to house the Beasts on the front porch until she got off work. She said right after she got off she’d head over to Home Depot and pick up the cinderblocks.

I followed her lead and stashed the Beasts on the front porch for the day. I couldn’t help it though I had to see how the hell the Boy had pulled off yet another escape. I was truly surprised at what I found. The Ply Wall was perfectly still intact. After further inspection I realized the Boy Beast I climbed up and over the Air Conditioner Unit to circumvent the Ply Wood, and then simple jumped down the other side into the separated section to dig under the fence.

That evening my Wife returned home with the cinderblocks, and I went about building a Fence Bottom Cinderblock Barrier. Before I laid the cinder blocks down I used a couple sections of the mock fence as anchors. I simply slid the legs of the section of mock fence between sections of the chain link thus pinning it to the ground. The Boy Beast did try and escape again to no vail, but not due to a lack of trying. All I had to due to secure that bottom section of the fence was to tweak the cinderblock’s formation. And all is quite on the Western Front as some would be apt to say.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober  

Our Animal Farm

I’m definitely what people would call an Animal Lover, and yes the cliche is true I love Animals and Despise People. I started to think about all the different pets I have had the pleasure of sharing my chaotic life with over the years, and for prosperity (Mine) decided to do what I do and make a list. I decided to use a timeline format to help grouping and increase clarity. First is the species followed by the pets name.

Growing Up Age: 3 Days Old to 18

A Golden Retriever: Tasha (My Dad’s 1st Dog)

DSH Cat: Little Bit (My Mom’s Cat)

Lhasa Apso: Chuzzle (Suffered chronic ear infections that led to an aggressive and undesirable behavioral problems, but we stuck by him just the same until his natural demise.)

Age 19 years old to 27 years old:

Maincoon Mix: Al (Alize) (was a 5 week old kitten rescued from a dumpster and deflated by hand by a neighbor of mine)

PitBull: VooDoo (Was the last puppy of a litter my co-worker was selling, but her landlord found out and demanded she rid the residence of all Puppies)

Lhasa Apso Mix: Jimbo (I became Jimbo’s Owner abandoned him at the kennel I was working at.)

Iguana: Tribe (A rescue, his previous owner was some kid who ended up going to collage and stuck the unwilling parents with the Iguana)

Bearded Dragon: Drivil (was re-homed to me again due to the fact the child wanted it and the parents ended up taking care of it though they obviously didn’t want to>)

 

Ages 27 years old to Current Age:

Iguana: Gizmo (was captured in the wild by a co-worker who asked me to iguana sit and then ditched him with me)

Pug/Boston Terrier Mix: Rascal (Adopted from Animal Shelter)

Maine Coon (cat): Big Kitty (Was a rescue from an Animal Shelter)

African Chameleon: Not Sure if he/she came with a name. (It was a re-homing as the previous owner bought it as an impulse buy and had decided perhaps that wasn’t the best idea he had ever had.)

Blue Tongue Skink (Lizard): Hook (Hook got his name due to a previous owners neglect that led Hook to self cannibalize, he ate all 4 of his legs, which over the following years became to regenerate. He was re-homed because his owner was suffered a severe head injury while serving in the Military)

Rat: Snafoo (Snafoo spelled this way is short for Snake Food which is what it was intended to be yet the snake gave it a get out of jail card if you will.)

Adabeece: Colombian Rainbow Boa Constrictor (Re-Homed because the owner had to move back home and her parents wouldn’t allow the snake sanctuary)

Monty: Ball Python (Again Re-Homed to me when I worked in a Veterinarians Office because the owner couldn’t treat the snakes chronic dry skin issue. Monty had made a full and significant recovery and if currently fat and happy.)

Love Birds (2): Frick and Frack (I received the love birds from an owner who had accumulated too many to handle appropriately.)

Mollies (fish): Too Many Too Name Individually (Were given to me when a friend of mines shitty girlfriend made him get rid of them.)

Ferrets: Judas (found wondering the streets by a dumpster by some kid who brought him into the Vet’s office I was working at.)

Kabuki: My Wife Bought Him for Me and to give Judas a playmate.

Frankenstien: Came from a co-worker at the Vets office My wife worked at

BooBoo: Re-homed by a friend/co-worker at the Vet office my wife worked in.

Scarlet: Re-homed when her companion died.

English Bulldog:Bubba (We got Bubba when his owner decided he didn’t give a flying fuck about the Dog because he was old and had old man issues, and the Vet I worked for took custody of Bubba from the owner to prevent further neglect, and I ended up bring him home the end.)

DSH Cat: Inky (Was my Wife’s Cat, a package deal who was a stray from the mean streets of NJ)

DSH Cat: Bradshaw (we ended up re-homing Bradshaw to a dear friend because he and Inky actually tried to kill one another, proof animals are capable of hate.)

Hermit Crabs: Various Absurd Names like “The Monster Clint”(I got obsessed with hermit crabs and had a 300 gallon tank that was empty so I decided to convert it into a Hermit Crab “City”)

2 Snapping Turtles: Mrs. Snaps and Mr. Chomps (I ended up rehoming the turtles to a neighborhood acquaintance who had vast experience and love working with wild animals. Last I heard she was feeding them raw Chicken.)

French Bulldog: Dozy (was re-homed to us by a breeder and dogs how pro who decided that she wanted to back to breeding and showing Boxers so she retired all her French Bulldogs, Dozy was a prolific champion who I heard many other dog show people were happy to see go.)

English BullDog: Wally (Re-homed to us when his owner realized he was working more and more which left less and less time for Wally who was stuck in his crate too much for too long.)

DLH Cat: KiKi (Was re-homed to use by an owner who could no longer keep her)

DSH Cat: Mouse (We got Mouse when a dear friend died, Mouse had both her eyes removed at 6 weeks of age due to brutal ulcers that were destroying her eyes.)

DSH Cat: Scooter (Belonged to the same dear friend, BUT was snuck into our house while we were away by our friend. Scooter spent the first part of his life with us holed up in a bedroom closet. He since has broken out of his shell to the point I wish sometimes I could put him back in.)

Miniature Dachshund: Lolly (Lolly came to us from a breeder, see Lolly is white which is synonymous with birth defects. Lolly is completely Deaf and 1/2 blind, but the happiest little fucker I have ever seen.)

DSH Cat: Schmoo (Named for the constant meow meets scream that she made as a kitten. My wife found Schmoo crying under a bush outside our house while hanging Christmas Lights.)

2 Lab/Rottweiler Mixes: Dingus (Gus for Short) and Nymh (Dingus and Nymh are brother and sister puppies we found sitting on the side of a dirt road notorious for illegal Dog Dumping. After we drove past them my Wife called my attention to the review mirror where I saw the Pups chasing after our car for all it was worth.)

 

Thats That for now until another Misfit falls into our laps.

Thanks for the Read as Always,

Les Sober

 

Dirtbags That Ditch Dogs On Dirt Roads

This is one of those tales that comes along when you already think you know what is going on, and then life swings back around and kicks you in the ass.

Before We relocated to the Souther Country We were well aware that the county We were moving to (Crush County) was pretty poor. Due to a severe lack of funds one of the things Crush County was forced to do was close their Animal Care And Control almost 4 years ago. Recently the Crush County AC&C has been trying desperately to reopen in at least some capacity, but are actually have to rebuild the entire system from the ground up.

In addition again due to lack of funds and resources Crush County doesn’t have a single Animal Shelter, and there no established rescue organizations. There are a few so called “Animal Rescues”, but in reality they people mean well (and want to help) its just that they don’t know how to help effectively, and lack the resources to.

To top it all off attitudes towards pet dogs are significantly outdated. What I mean by that is People aren’t on board with spaying/neutering their pets, Dogs are put out in the morning and allowed to roam until they return home at diner time to eat, Collars are a rarity and next to no Dogs with Name/Rabies tags on their collar if they do in fact have one.

Now heres the story.

My Wife and I were driving to the next town over to buy some supplies we can’t get in our Tiny Town. To reach the neighboring town there is a dirt road short cut which we utilize constantly for its convince. Right as we hit the top of the dirt road we saw two Puppies (large breed pups but pups none the less) sitting on the side of the road looking rather lost and confused. We slowed down as we passed them not wanting to accidentally hurt one of them and waved at them. A second later My wife called my attention the to review mirror. I looked into the passenger’s side review mirror and saw the two pups running after our car desperately trying to keep up. We immediately pulled over and stopped the car. We both exited the car and the two pups came running up to us brimming with glee, and we knew that anyway you sliced it these pups were now our responsibility as we weren’t about to leave them where we found them along side of a deserted dirt road.

An old beat up pick up truck came rambling down the road from the opposite direction so when the truck got near we stopped it, and asked the old man driving if he knew who these pups belonged too? He said with all conviction that he had no idea who’s pups they might be. We then asked the old man what exactly should we or could we do to help the pups as we are new to the area? The old man responded with the same previous conviction that we could leave them, Pick them up or Give them to someone we knew and drove off.

Well as I said abandoning the pups was NOT an option and we don’t know anyone yet being the new kids on the block so we reverted back to what we knew and decided to try and locate the owner. Now like I mentioned earlier collars and tags are not a priority here so as you can imagine the pups had neither, but they were well fed and very friendly (not all dogs here are friendly because there is a feral stray dog population which unfortunately is an ongoing and growing problem.) We heard several dogs barking at the small cement bunker looking like house on the corner at the top of the dirt road. We assumed that the pups must have slipped out the fence so we loaded the pups up into our car and drove the 7 blocks back to the corner house. There were approximately 8 adult (possibly few of them were juveniles) running around barking their fucking heads off in the fenced in backyard of the small house. My Wife got out and started to cross the front yard words the front door when the front door opened a fraction and a little old lady stuck her head out and demanded to know what we wanted. We explained we found these two pups and were wondering if they were in deed hers to which the old woman stated aggressively that she “Didn’t have NO Puppies”, and then she provided us with the reality of the dirt road we mistook for an innocent short cut. After stating that she didn’t have any puppies she shouted angrily that the dirt road was a notorious road for dumping unwanted dogs, and that the illegal abandoning of dogs is a frequent occurrence. Then the old woman pulled her head back inside and slammed to door with a vengeance.

My Wife and I once again loaded up the pups and did the only thing we knew we could and brought the pups back to our home office. Our home office has a large fenced in backyard complete with a large one car garage (and of course we all just park out in the drive way) and we decided we could house the pups there until we figured out what the hell we could do.

Now before any over sensitive animal lovers get ready to give us shit because we did’t bring them inside remember and know this we didn’t know if the pups were destructive, how if at all were they house broken, they needed to be dewormed as well as shots and a serious flea/tick bath. We also have 3 cats and a handicapped Mini Dachshund (she was born completely deaf and half blind) already in our Office and din’t know how the new pups would react/behave around other dogs or cats.

My Wife and I as well as our staff are all animal owners and lovers so as soon as we got the pups back to the office and the staff undated we went to work. We secured the gate so the pups would;t be able to take any unauthorized walks if you will. We then cleaned out and organized the garage, loaded it up with beds, blankets, tons of toys, food/water dishes, treats, and put the pups to bed so to speak.

The next day We bathed both pups for ticks and fleas, took them to the local and only Veterinarian for shots and to pick up dewormer, Heart Worm Preventative, Flea/Tick Prevention, and find out when the pups needed their rabies shot. We also went and spent our weekly beer budget at local Pet Stores buying food, treats, more fucking toys and training treats. We also told the various pet shop employees our story and they all said the same thing “You picked them up in your car and took them to your Home Office, Their your dogs you know that right?”

The Pups are brother and sister Lab/Rotti mixes that were around 12 weeks old when we found them on the side of the road. The Boy is an attention whore, Dopey, Wrestling loving big old ball of goofy that earned him the name Dingus (or Gus for short) and his sister is smart as a whip, the shyer of the two, and extremely loving so we named her Nymh (and yes thats a hats off reference to The Secret of Nyhm) We have had them with us for the last 3 weeks and couldn’t be happier. The Pups don’t have any bad habits like digging or chewing, they are EGAR to please, travel great in the car, Intelligent and full of unconditional love. The Pups have already mastered the commands for Sit, Stay and Down and put a smile on anyones face they come in contact with. As far as any backstory for the pups is concerned I Believe the original owner had a litter of pups they were selling, and these two didn’t get bought. Not only did the pups not sell they started to get expensive (they eat like fucking horses) and less puppy like so the owner decided to dump the dogs on the dirt road. Those assholes’s loss so fuck’em I’m not wasting my time being pissed about it as that is a futile activity.

All in All even though the pups fell into our lap I feel it couldn’t be any more fitting for the start of the new chapter in Our and f-yourblog.com’s Lives. I mean we moved to the Southern Country and acquired two pups that were ditched on a dirt road, and will grow up to be some truly great Big Old Country Dogs.

Thanks For The Read

Les Sober