The start of each year Scottie takes photos of our animal family, our yearbook. We’ll share them with you. With so many losses last year it’ll be nice to brag on who we still have with us. Let’s start with the pups.

Eva is our youngster at 3 years old. She’s been with us since 10 weeks and was my surprise anniversary present. It’d been a long time since I’d raised a puppy but she was definitely worth all the work. And, yes, it’s a lot of work. She is my best bud. Australian Cattledogs (Blue Heelers) are not for the faint of heart. They are extremely smart, super energetic, oftentimes dog aggressive and wary of strangers. They bond tight with their special people and usually aren’t impressed with much else.

CindyLou is our littlest Hoo. She’s a teeny thing and doesn’t even look like she weighs her 5 lbs. but she does. She was the result of one of those phone calls from my friend who runs the county shelter – there’s a tiny dog here that needs your help…I shouldn’t have answered the phone that day! As sweet as she may look, this girl is a terror and hard to understand. She was a sickly 4 month old when we got her, she quickly improved her health but not her attitude.

She hates to be petted or held and seems to dislike everyone around her. She’s got to be around 5 years old now. She’s Eva’s favorite squeeky toy and does offer us lots of laughs. She had one best friend for a year and a half, an ancient doberman named Granny. They were seriously bonded and Granny’s death left quite a hole in her little heart. Everyone thinks Cindy is a chihuahua, but she’s not. We did the DNA testing on her and she’s Schipperke & Mastiff – yep, really. Dr. Rick explained the whole genotype versus phenotype thing to me so it is possible. I’ve found photos of Schipperkes in Europe that look just like her.

Jill is our big, mutt girl. She has the good fortune of looking exactly (and I mean exactly!) like our former dog, Jack. He was part of our Holy Trinity and was very important to the family. Jack had been dead a year and a half when I stumbled upon Jill at the shelter. I was there to evaluate a doberman for the rescue folks and she happened to be in the run across from the girl I was there to see. Fate intervened and she accompanied me home…right before a hurricane was set to hit us. She spent her first weekend in a crate in the closet.

She’s really a good girl but has a hair trigger temper with the rest of the pack. She’s put 3 of the dogs in the hospital and her intent was to kill them, not just wound. So, when she’s in general population she must wear her “mask”. It’s a greyhound or basket muzzle. She can eat, drink, bark, etc but she can’t bite anyone. It was that or she was a dead dog. She’s middle-aged now at 7 years. It’s funny but the only dog I actually trust her with is CindyLou. She scares Jill, too.

Blinky could be considered one of my greatest achievements or biggest failures, depending on how you look at it. He came here with his littermates and momma. Babies were just a few days old. At 3 weeks he began fainting into the food dish. After lots of tests and an ultrasound, it was determined he was born with a heart defect. I can’t recall the scientific name but his heart pumps way too fast and the blood bashes against things instead of nicely flowing. I was told by the specialists he would not live to be 6 months. Well, I believe he turns 9 years old soon. He’s about 10 lbs and there’s probably chihuahua and some sort of terrier in his lineage. He missed out on getting adopted into a normal family like the rest of his siblings. His momma sends us a Christmas card every year. He’s a sweet boy but barks at absolutely everything. I see his brother and sisters on a regular basis since they were all adopted by clients. He’s our medical miracle.

Barby is the newest family member and is just starting to acclimate into the pack, somewhat. She definitely prefers to be alone or have just a couple cats with her. She’s also an Australian Cattledog (Red Heeler) and is very dominant. We think she’s about 10 – 12 years old and feels much better than she did a few months back. (Her whole story is on the blog from September.)

We had a tick problem and had to shave her. They were only on her somehow. After a few baths and deticking at the vet it’s now under control. She looks cute with her haircut. Her coat is the densest I’ve ever seen, amazing.

Kaley is our Minpin / Basenji mix. She’s 16 and has been in “end-stage” kidney failure for at least 2 years, maybe more. Her mother died the same way. Kaley’s bloodwork is off the charts and the vets have no idea how she is still living. I raised her from a newborn and wish we would have kept her instead of adopting her out. She was in 2 failed homes during her younger years. Came back to us the last time when she was around 7. She didn’t leave again. She screams like a banshee and can run like the wind and even still tries sometimes. I made 2 different appointments last year to euthanize her but she keeps on going. She’s our little Energizer Bunny.

Joey is our elder statesman now. He’s got to be 19 sometime this year. He came to us middle-aged and sick, of course. He’s our lover not a fighter dog and has always tried to romance the ladies. He had a rough go of things last year with some eye issues but overall he’s in stellar shape. We think he’s a Minpin / Chihuahua of some sort. He used to sleep in the bed with us but it’s too dangerous now since he can’t see. We don’t want any one else falling off the bed.

The two old-timers are usually cuddled up with one another. (That’s CindyLou in the background looking slightly annoyed.)

Next post will be the kitties of the family.

Happy Birthday to You!

Happy Birthday to You!

Happy Birthday Dear Eeevaaaaaaa!

Happy Birthday to You!

…and many more!

Our girl is now a big three year old. My, how time flies…

(10 weeks old when she became my driving buddy.)

(Today at 3, with her clown face.)

This was sent to me and now I share it with all of you.

1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay ‘them’

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever.. Never let the brain idle. ‘An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.’ And the devil’s name is Alzheimer’s.

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. BE ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love , whether it’s family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don’t take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

Cass does NOT have to have surgery to remove her ovary!!!!!! WHOOHOO!!! Finally, something good comes to our little family. To catch you up, back in July she began exhibiting strange behaviors, stallion-like behaviors. We had an ultrasound done and her left ovary was very abnormal and large. Over the course of the rest of the year, we did blood tests, more ultrasounds, used drugs to stop her cycles, used Chinese herbs to stop her cycles, had to separate her from Becca at certain times and were basically very worried about the health of our girl. We were suspicious the mass on her ovary was a granulosa theca cell tumor with removal being the only cure. That would mean taking Cass to Gainesville for surgery. Sure didn’t want to do that, but we would have. We discussed with the surgeon if it would be ok to wait until January and she said yes, since it’s a slow growing tumor. She’d been emailed all the records and ultrasound pics and was also convinced our girl needed her ovary removed.

So, Dr. Roberts came out yesterday to do one last ultrasound before scheduling her surgery. Well…the mass is just gone! Her left and right ovaries look exactly the same. They are the same size. Isn’t that amazing?! The guess is that the mass wasn’t a tumor but a cyst that had finally burst or what’s called an unresolved follicle, which finally got expelled. Those things had been considered but her behaviors (humping Becca) all pointed to the tumor. We are so relieved and happy. I can only guess the power of prayer really does work sometimes. We certainly have lots of angels looking out for us now.

I have to admit with all that’s been going on (the illnesses, the losses) sweet, little Becca has been getting ignored. She’ll turn 2 in May and I really need to start some serious work. It’s been impossible to find the time or inspiration, though. She has such huge potential, I cannot let her simply be a pasture ornament. Cass is happy to have being beautiful her only job, but Becca wants to do more. So, we’re gonna get started on teaching this baby to be an awesome trail horse. You can see from her latest picture how big she has gotten. I’m 5′6″ and fear I’m gonna need a ladder to get on her when she’s finished growing. Fjords grow until age 5 or 6!  (Daddy Marvin update: he got gelded and is healing beautifully. Everyone who meets him falls under his spell.)

We are coming up on the 2 year anniversary of Cass joining our family. It still boggles my mind that we actually pulled her rescue off and she’s really ours. Wow! Life is ever changing. I learn something new every, single day thanks to these girls. They are my Heaven.

We ended 2009 amidst sorrow, pain and loss. We have begun 2010 with life anew. Maybelline (the world’s most awesome cow) gave birth to a healthy little bull this week. We’ve had terribly cold weather and each night I would beg her to please hold him in until the cold snap passed. She waited until noon one day to pop him out! Terri actually laid on the ground beside her as she was giving birth. What other cow would let you do that?! We helped wipe him off ’cause he sure got a surprise coming out of that warm belly to our 40 degrees or so. He is her first baby and she’s being an excellent mother. We are all so proud.

This is the orphaned lamb who’s residing with us. We’re hoping she and the new baby will be buds. The goats were mean to her but now they live on the main property. She hangs mostly with Snuffy or Cass.

Meet Bobby Lee Bull – named in celebration of my Dad.

“Yeah! I’m not the littlest anymore!”, so says Little Mary Lambchop.

These photos were taken a mere 6 hours after Bobby Lee was born. Momma certainly deserves a rest.

“Awww, Mom, do ya hafta?”, says Bobby Lee.

A mother’s love is pure and good.

You did so good, Momma. I love this cow!

As if losing five dogs and Kathleen’s dad since September wasn’t already enough, we had to endure yet another death before 2010 arrived. About 12 hours after dropping Kath off at the airport on Wednesday the 30th, I was getting the porch critters set for the night. I opened the sugar glider cage and found our male, Pixel, lying at the bottom. He was still alive, but not doing well at all.

Right now you’re asking “what the heck is a sugar glider?” It’s a common question we’ve gotten for years. They are small marsupials that live in the trees in the wilds of Australia, not unlike how we have squirrels here. They’re nocturnal creatures, so they sleep all day and party all night. Their name comes from a love of sweet foods and the ability to glide from tree to tree, thanks to wing-like membranes that stretch between their front and back legs.

That’s Pixel on Kathleen’s shoulder. When we got him as a baby back in late 1996, I was employed at a local TV station, and he spent many days nestled in my shirt pocket as I worked in an edit suite. They’re often called “pocket pets”, not only because of their diminutive size, but also due to their love of being in a dark little place, like a pocket.

The night I found him in distress, I tried everything I could to get him to eat or drink, but to no avail. All he wanted to do was cling to me. Our female glider, Pica, seemed fine. They had lived together as a couple since 2000, when Pixel became an official SGA – Sugar Glider Ambassador. He was featured prominently in the first photo of a feature article about our family in the Orlando Sentinel newspaper.

He was photographed happily munching on a grape by our friend Julie Fletcher (who took our final Pookie pics just a few months ago). Not long after the article was published in February of ‘00, a lady called and begged us to take her female glider. She claimed she just didn’t have time to care for her. We eventually gave in, and to be sure there would be no accidental glider babies, Dr. Rick performed his first, and so far only, sugar glider neutering on Pixel.

The two gliders bonded very quickly, and were a happy couple for the rest of the decade. We’ve given copies of the article to every new petsitting client over the years, which helped to cement Pixel’s ambassador status. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “Wow! I want one of those,” when people see that photo. I have to assume they’re referring to Pixel and not me (though as you can see, I was rather dashing back in the day).

Pasta was always a favorite treat, and here Pixel is seen enjoying a curly piece. He and Pica lived a good long life together, but there were some scares along the way. At one point he almost lost a foot due to a piece of thread getting wrapped around it – we had put a pot holder in their pouch to use as a pillow, not thinking the threading could be a hazard. Pixel allowed Kath to nurse him for two weeks, soaking his foot in a medicated bath and taking antibiotics via a syringe. A few years after that, he developed an abscess in his jaw, and again had to go through being medicated. He eventually healed and was back to normal.

I decided it was best to put Pixel in a small travel cage the night he went down, so I could keep him in the bedroom with me and monitor him. When I awoke on New Year’s Eve, I was afraid he might not have made it through to the morning. Amazingly, he was still alive, but even less able to move. He still had no desire to eat or drink. Around 11am I called Dr. Rick and conferred with him, he agreed it was best not to watch him die slowly. Since he was off for the holiday, he called the clinic and alerted them I was coming.

Pixel and I held hands one last time before we headed there. He died peacefully in my hand as Dr. Myers helped send him off to join the rest of our furry angels. Pixel was the “Ramirez” of gliders… he’ll always be the first and best.

I miss you, my little friend.

Bobby Lee Payne (my Dad) was born the first son of a farming family in Curdsville, KY in 1936. Hard work and hard lessons would serve him well.

He had to grow up fast, first to help take care of his 3 younger brothers and the farm, then to take care of his own fledgling family. He married his high school sweetheart and became a father at the tender age of 17. Having two girls, Vicki Anne & Rhonda, one right after the other, made the boy have to quickly become a man. I don’t know all the specifics but I know he and Barbara tried hard to make their marriage and family work. But they were kids themselves. Back in those days, divorce was like a scarlet letter. It was simply not done. It didn’t matter if people were terribly unhappy, you suffered through it. That is, unless you were strong enough to go against what society says you should do. Both of my parents were just that strong.

However it came to be, Bobby met his soul mate during this heart wrenching time. Aggie (my Mom) was coming from the exact same place. She’d ended an unhappy marriage herself and was raising 4 young kids on her own. Wow! I can only imagine the talk of the small town when these two got together. They married despite all the disapproval. I came along a few years later. It would take me a long time to fully understand why I was told by my grandparents, “I love you anyway, even though you’re Bobby’s” or “I love you anyway, even though you’re Aggie’s”. I hold a unique position in our family, as I am the only one, while being part of many.

That’s Dad trying to teach me how to give a kiss.

Blended families are part of our everyday culture now. In the 60’s it was not. But Mom and Dad did just that. They blended the two families – Vicki Anne & Rhonda from Dad; Julie, Tony, Peggy & Vickie Jean from Mom. Yep, I have two sisters named Vicki. Dad never made any distinction between kids and step-kids. We were all just his kids. They also did something that is quite admirable. Both maintained (and I’m sure it wasn’t easy) lifelong friendships with their former spouses. As far as I remember, they were part of our family.

From left to right: Me, Julie, Vicki Anne, Rhonda, Tony, Peggy, Vickie Jean

Dad was good-looking, competitive, athletic, fun, charming, protective, caring to a fault, intimidating, stoic, yet sensitive. None of us are perfect and he wasn’t, either. But, I do know anything he did or didn’t do came from the place of loving and protecting us. Looking back on things as an adult I can say that most (if not all) of the time, they were probably right. He knew exactly what those boys were after that came to pick up his daughters. He scared the bejeezus out of all the neighborhood boys, even those that were just friends. They called him “The Bear” and he wouldn’t say a word to them. He didn’t have to. He’d just sit there and look.

One of our many vacations at Kentucky Lake. That’s me and Dad.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are going to the driving range and horse track with Dad. Just me and him. We never spoke much. Didn’t have to. At the track he’d park me by the paddock where the jockeys tacked up the horses and he’d go peruse the racing form. I would stay there for hours fantasizing about having my own horse, or being a jockey or countless other things related to the majestic animals. I’ve been able to make that dream come true now as a middle-aged woman. I have two horses to call my own. Dad was excited for me and would always ask about them. I think it took him on a nostalgia trip back to his farm days. My biggest regret is he didn’t get to meet them in person. He really wanted to.

Me, Cass, Scottie & Becca

We were quite the stylish threesome, don’t you think…

As good a Dad as he was, he was an even better Grandfather and Great-Grandfather. He got to relax a bit and enjoy kids being kids. There are 14 grandkids and 17 great-grandkids who will come to know how blessed they were to be loved by him. I’m saddened by the new babies who will only know him through photos and stories.

Kelly snuggling up to her Grandpa.

When Dad faced down death the first time after his heart attack on the golf course, he changed. He began calling more. He began telling his feelings more. I would start to worry if my Saturday morning went by without hearing his voice. If I didn’t answer he’d leave the same message every time. “Kath, this is your Father…” Like I wouldn’t know who it was. I’ll admit, it could still sometimes scare me, thinking I’d done something wrong! He had always been a man who did what he wanted and he took that task to heart even more. He and Tony took his lifelong dream trip to Scotland to play golf. I was so proud they did. One of Dad’s most envious traits was that he could be anywhere, in a foreign land or the grocery store and strike up a friendship with someone. He was just that kind of guy.

Mom & Dad at granddaughter Carri’s wedding a few years ago

Many, many people loved Bobby Payne. Probably more than he would even realize. But my dear Mom has a broken heart and she will never fully recover. She will endure it because that’s the strong woman she is. Dad would want her to. He wants all of us to celebrate him and each other. He wouldn’t want us to bicker and fight or take advantage or disappear. He was always about being together as a family. We must honor him and continue to make him proud. I’ll miss you, Dad. Love up to the sky. Kath.

Eva, my ever faithful barn dog, has to take a break for a while. Her “pokey bone” has flared up. When she was not quite 1 year old she had orthopedic surgery at  Affiliated Veterinary Specialists. The surgery was successful for the initial diagnosis of  OCD of the hock. Now we must deal with the lifelong effects of her “pokey bone”.

“Osteochondrosis (also known as OCD) is a common, painful disease in dogs. It is characterized by an abnormality in the cartilage-to-bone transformation. As a result, cartilage and bone fragments may break off into the joint space. Osteochondrosis is not a form of arthritis, however, it often leads to arthritis. Larger breeds of dog have a genetic predisposition towards the condition, which results from rapid growth. (The pain from osteochondrosis is similar to the “growing pains” experienced by adolescents.)

Cartilage is the tissue, normally at the ends of long bones, which contributes to pain-free motion. Osteochondrosis is a congenital defect in normal joint cartilage development that leads to the development of a loose piece or flap of cartilage. This loose piece or flap can give rise to secondary degenerative joint disease. Secondary degenerative joint disease that develops as a result of osteochondrosis, generally occurs early in the dog’s life as opposed to the “wear and tear” arthritis that many dogs experience later in life.

Areas most commonly affected by osteochondrosis include the shoulder, elbow, knee (stifle) and ankle (hock) in young dogs. Osteochondrosis can occur on both sides (bilateral) and may involve several joints. There are several types of osteochondrosis.”

We were hoping not to deal with this until she was a bit older. She only turns 3 in February. When she’s at the barn with me she flies across the pasture at 100 mph chasing the goats and cows. This past friday she was carrying her leg and laying down as I did my chores. She’s never done that! So in she went for x-rays and sure enough, she has arthritis in that joint and substantial swelling. Dr. Rick thinks the swelling and aggravation had been building for while and she must have done something (hit a hole, took a turn wrong) to bring it to where we are now. She’s on a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory and is on exercise restriction for at least a week. Not being able to go to work with me at the barn is about to make her crazy! Dr. Carson will be coming tomorrow to start acupuncture treatments and there are some interesting stem-cell procedures we are investigating. I miss her being with me but we have to do what’s necessary for her to be pain free. She’s far too young to be lame. Since we started her restriction the swelling has gone down and she’s using the leg again. All good signs.

Cass has dealt with health issues the whole time she’s been with us, which will be two years in March. This summer was spent trying to figure out her hormonal issues and if she does or doesn’t have a tumor on her ovary. We still don’t have a definite answer but the Chinese herbs have kicked in and are keeping her hormones and behavior in check. Since the beginning of November we’ve been dealing with her mammary glands being infected. Of course, she couldn’t have just everyday, run of the mill, normal mastitis. She had a strange bacteria that had all the doctors perplexed. She’s been on heavy duty antibiotics for weeks and weeks. We got news today that the strange bacteria (rhodococcus) is clear but now she’s developed three other types of bacteria in her mammary glands! It’s all about opportunity.

Because of her years spent as a broodmare, having baby after baby, her body is now paying the price. Her mammary glands have permanent scarring and keep a residual amount of edema (swelling) in them. This is a perfect, warm breeding ground for bacteria to grow. If her immune system and mammary glands were normal the bacteria wouldn’t have the opportunity to take hold. But, because they’re not, the bad stuff can grow and thrive. An additional monkey wrench thrown into this is she’s also developed severely itchy skin. She’s practically scratched her mane completely off. My poor girl is miserable. I’m miserable right along with her.

These pics are from early November when all this began.

Cass is sedated so we can strip the bad stuff out of her mammary glands. Without sedation we would have been kicked to high Heaven to even try to touch them as sore and swollen as they were.

Dr. Fowinkle and Terri are trying to get a good look at things.

Have to milk her to get the sample to send off for testing.

Watch out! Pus was flying everywhere!

The cows ask, “why is this horse being milked?”

She had to strip as much out of the glands as possible. Then she actually injected antibiotics up into her mammary glands.

Cass is glad she doesn’t really know what’s going on.

Then my girl had to get two types of antibiotics injected into her neck.

Billy decides to take cover in case we were getting any crazy ideas about him!

Is she just the best girl, or what?

We will get this thing beat. Those ranchers had years to misuse her body and it’s not going to get better overnight either.

Billy and the rest of his goat family are glad when the doctor leaves.

That’s our new baby goat. He’s very cute and strong.

Two gone in one week.

She came to us a beaten and broken nine month old dog, who only wanted one thing – her babies. Their birth was not to be, as they had to be sacrificed to save her life. Monica graced us for fifteen years before leaving Thanksgiving weekend. She was the ultimate babysitter for many foster puppies over the years. She never demanded anything and was always a lady. She is now free to be with the babies she never forgot. We love you fritter-girl.

Click below to hear her final song.