Yesterday, Barbara drove up to the Ogden shelter to pick up a 10 year old "neutered" male, Buffy, whose owner had died. Big boy, about 20", but not overweight. Lovely, lovely personality, blond sable coat, sweet expression, sway-backed, and very tender on his left elbow. Justice, not yet neutered, won’t leave him alone; today, Barbara discovered that Buffy isn’t neutered after all. Justice was in for neutering today (turns out that his undescended testicle was partly descended, so the surgery wasn’t major; therefore, he got neutered and gets to have 14 teeth removed!). Barbara’s leaving in a few minutes to take Buffy in for neutering.
Yesterday, while Barbara was out getting Buffy, the phone rings. It’s a woman who lives in SLC, but has "too many dogs" and her neighbors have called the police. She tearfully says that she has to downsize and she has two Sheltie males, six years old, littermates whom she’s had since puppyhood, that she must turn over right away. The poor woman is on vacation, no less! When Barbara gets back, she negotiates that the woman will bring the two boys (Marley, "as in Bob", and Stewart Little, called "Stewie") over on Tuesday of the coming week.
Today, I got email from Dorothy Christiansen (National Sheltie Rescue Network coordinator), forwarding a message from somebody who lives "about 20 miles from Salt Lake City" who wants to dump a Sheltie at the pound, but wants Dorothy to "come pick it up". Dorothy lives in Illinois, so unreasonably suggests that the man contact us, as we’re "a little closer". I get email from the man shortly thereafter saying "If you want him, pick him up by Friday or we’re taking him to the pound". When Barbara gets home from taking Justice to the vet, she calls the man and negotiates that the guy will drop the Sheltie here. Un-spayed, of course.
Ummm, I’m sure that Barbara told me last night that there’s yet another female waiting to be brought over here, too.
Unless I’ve lost count, that will make 20. TWENTY! And they all need spaying or neutering, plus (mostly) dentals. That’s another $500, $700, or $800 in just under a week. Don’t nobody try to convince me that the economy’s improving. Mine ain’t! OK, so Buffy’s a special case, but all these others…jeez…what’s going on?
It didn’t help that large Buffy had pretty bad diarrhea most of last night (probably anxiety at losing his dad and his home in short order, plus a change in diet – and having Justice bothering him constantly couldn’t have helped). We didn’t get much sleep and Barbara’s spent most of today using the carpet shampooer.
Anybody want to buy a non-profit corporation cheap? How about a slightly used house?
On the other hand, I’m supposed to call a woman in California right this minute who’s interested in Jackson (the new Sheltie, not the Corgi mix). Maybe she’ll drive to Sandy this weekend to adopt. Fingers crossed (along with toes, eyes, arms, legs, and whatever else I can move).
Oh, one more thing: Ballet’s mom called today; she’d just seen on the blog that Ballet had died. We hadn’t called her to tell her yet, because we wanted to wait until she was feeling physically better (we got Ballet and Tap because their mom was very ill). She was, of course, heartbroken about Ballet, but was comforted that she didn’t suffer, and was delighted that Tap has found such a fabulous new home. She asked if she could at least share Ballet’s ashes with us, which we’re sure we’ll do, we just haven’t worked out the details yet.
On this day..
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