So the humans are still singing and dancing.  They are also eating and laughing.... a lot.  Vocal Vonnie hurt her back the other day and was walking funny, and before too long my mom and dad were walking just like her and following Vonnie around the clinic.  The humans can seem to amuse themselves for hours with their games. 

Sometimes I follow my mother all around, but it never seems to make her laugh.

The other thing the humans are doing these days is putting tiny versions of their clothes on their pets.  It seems like this time of year they really like to put things on our heads.  I have not yet figured out what this is about, but the wearing of the red hat is always followed by someone holding the one-eyed flashing machine.  Of course, after that the treats abound, so I really don't mind wearing whatever it is they want me to wear.

The pets visiting the clinic this week, have all been happy.  We had one scare with a poodle puppy eating something called Gorilla glue.  "That stuff's really scary" Vonnie said "it expands to triple in size after they eat it and it usually has to be surgically removed!"  The poodle was lucky that he was stopped after only a few licks and so far none of it is stuck. 

Mother says, "only one week left until Christmas!" which make me tail-wagging happy.  Things can't get back to normal too soon for me!

Cat fight!!!!

As winter comes, so do the odd colored lights at night, the funny-smelling indoor trees, the music that plays the same three tunes over and over, and cats. And you might bark, cats?  Why, cats?
I have barked the same question.  Bea says when it turns cold, cats feel frisky too and it doesn't take much to turn a frisky cat into a fighting cat.  Just today we saw two cats come in with thick green goo pouring from wounds.  I have to admit, they smell delicious.
Every time one of the cats comes in, mother launches into her scary tale about a cat that lives in the neighborhood; a tale that according to her is more fact than legend.
Mother likes to tell her cat parents: 

Once upon a time there lived a big orange cat.  His name was Freddie Hussler.  He was the only boy cat in the neighborhood that could make babies because his parents thought neutering him was cruel.  So instead of him being a sweet, docile, indoor cat, he was a lean, mean, baby-making fighting machine. He would come into the clinic at least three times a year with bite wounds.  One time his eye was scratched so bad, it was leaking eye fluid out.  But his parents insisted that he was always the victim, and despite living in a world of neutered cats, being neutered himself would ruin his life.  He was so mean that even the veterinarians couldn't touch him, and he had to get gas pumped into a box to make him fall asleep.  One year, after having been bitten for the third time that year, he tested positive for the Feline Immune-deficiency Virus (or FIV).  His parents still insisted that sweet Freddie was never the cause but always the victim.  To this day he still roams the streets of North Port, whether it be mating or fighting, to spread his deadly disease.  In fact, in the past month we've seen two cats come in for cat fights, right in Freddie's neighborhood that have also tested positive for FIV. 

Usually after she's done telling the story, the cat parents are speechless. 

Usually, the cats stay in the house from then on.
I mean, can you blame them?

It’s been so cold the past few days I think my fur is stuck permanently on end. And I find it so hard to get out of bed in the morning. If mother would just keep letting me go on the bathroom mat, things would be great!  I find it strange that at the same time the nights come early and the cold wind fills the air, the humans string lights, and put up many colored objects around the house. Mother says “it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas”. But if Christmas is cold, why would anyone look forward to it?

Things are staying warm and busy in the clinic. Many of the furry friends coming in are dressing like the humans; bundled up in sweaters and coats. Sweet Sally and Dancing Debbie get such a thrill to see the outfits.

Of course, Bea and I and decked out for the holiday too. Mother denies that she dresses us up. She says the “coats” are just harnesses, and that I can’t wear a collar on account of my sensitive neck.

Barking of sensitive necks, we’ve had lots of dogs come in coughing recently. My dad says “Tis the season for kennel cough with everyone traveling”. Many of the dogs feel perfectly fine, they are just doing “the goose honk” Vonnie says.

One German Shepherd named Barley came in,

 and had to have the black-and-white pictures taken. Mother said, “His chest looks fine, but what’s wrong with his stomach? Has he been eating anything unusual?” “He does like to eat dirt. In fact, just today I saw him with a mouthful!” Barley’s mom said.

 “Well, at least he won’t mind taking his antibiotics then!” mother said, laughing. I couldn’t help but think that Barley probably got so hungry watching the humans eat and eat during this time of year, and never getting any for himself that he just took to eating dirt. Funny, when I think of everything I’ve put in my mouth, I never thought to try the dirt. I’ll have to see if I get any of the big feast planned for Christmas, if not, watch out dirt, here I come!

So it must have been weeks now since the humans gathered to enjoy their endless parade of food.  I can still smell the roasted meats.  Partly that's because they take it out of the box with the cold doors and heat it up day and night.  The worst thing about the food parade is how little of it I actually got.  I can see the food, I can smell the food and every once in awhile I can taste a crumb of the food, but none of the food seems to find it's way into my bowl.  It's a process I can't begin to understand.  I heard mother telling Anna that it's about "being thankful for everything we have".  I guess the faithful companionship that Bea and I provide so willingly is not included in the things she's thankful for.

Based on the pets we've seen this week, no one else got to enjoy food from the feasts either. We did have a scare from some Boxer sisters that were left home alone with two pumpkin pies.  When their parents got home the pies, tins and all, were gone.  Of course, those girls kept their mouths shut and didn't get sick even once. Mother's worried that the pie tins haven't been seen either.  "I'll bet the dogs just pushed them under the oven or the fridge, even Boxers can't digest aluminum" she said.  I don't know what the aluminum is, but if it tastes like pie, I'd try it!

Mother's biggest problem this week came from one of our tiniest patients.  Nutmeg Place was a 4 lb Chihuahua that came to see her for trouble walking.  "We only left her alone for a few hours two nights ago and she hasn't been able to walk right since. We think she may have broken her hip!" her dad, Rock, said.  Nutmeg couldn't stand up on her own, and when made to stand, all of her little legs would buckle and collapse. Mother knew that the tiny dog was in trouble. "None of her legs are working properly" she explained while placing Nutmeg's small paws upside down on the table.  Her paws just stayed knuckled over.  "This means that the spinal cord in her neck has a problem. It's most likely from a pinched disk and she needs to be seen by a neurologist immediately"  mother instructed.   Nutmeg's mom, Hart, said they couldn't go, so mother gave Nutmeg some pinches instead.  "It's very important that she stay strictly rested for the next two weeks. If she's too active she can make things worse" mother instructed.  "Now you're sure it's not a broken hip?" Hart asked.  Mother assured her that all of her other legs would be working if only one was broken.  "Don't you need x-rays to know if she's broken?" Rock asked.  "We do like to take x-rays to investigate a problem like this, but we would need to sedate her for x-rays of her neck and if surgery is not an option, there is only one treatment left, and that's medicine"  mother worked to explain.  It was at this point, that I knew mother was stuck between a Rock and a Hart Place. 
Over the next 5 days, there were questions and calls every day.  Nutmeg did well for the first few days and was back "running in the yard when her back legs stopped moving altogether" Mrs. Place told Vonnie yesterday.  "I figured that lady vet just didn't know my dog so she had to be wrong" she volunteered. Vonnie's only answer was the number to the nerve-ologist. 

So today, mother found out that Nutmeg has since been to see two specialists (because the first one didn't know Nutmeg very well either) and the results were that all the doctors recommended the same thing:  Nutmeg has to have surgery to get better.  Mother smiled sadly and said "I guess I knew her dog pretty well after all!" 
Mother knows me pretty well too.  Now, if she would just put some of the super smelling roasted meat in with my dinner, I could be really thankful as well.

Lessons learned

So life in the clinic has slowly returned to normal.  My parents had three whole days where they didn't have to say good-bye to any of the pet patients. 
It seems like what I've been hearing more than anything this week is "Wow, talk about learning a lesson the hard way!"  

One such lesson was taught by a Cocker Spaniel named Lady.  As a puppy she was adored by all, and no one could be in the same room with her without squealing "ooooooh, how cute!".  Her folks were such proud parents and brought her every few weeks to get her puppy pokes.  By the time she was ready for her sleeping procedure to remove her girls parts -- what my mom calls "puppy prevention" -- she had lost some of her puppy cuteness and seemingly some of her parents devotion.  "We do want to get her spayed" Lady's dad said "but things are getting tight and we're going to shop around for prices to get the surgery done".  Sweet Sally tried to explain the care that she takes with every sleeping patient, but Lady's dad wasn't listening.  That was the last we saw of Lady until yesterday.  It had been months since she had been in for a visit, and months since her surgery.  "She started acting really sick yesterday and hasn't wanted to eat or drink, and then this morning I noticed the sore on her belly.  What do you think that could be?" Lady's dad asked.   Mother took one look at the red, hot and oozing Cocker belly and said "Oh!"  in that surprised-but-trying-not-to-sound-alarmed kind of way.  After a closer look under the green smelly scab, the skin started to fall away over the place where her belly button used to be.  Mother and Sweet Sally took a sample of the green goo and looked into her my-crow-scope, "Yep, white blood cells and bacteria, this is the source of her 104.2 fever", mother confirmed.  Mother was less condemning when talking with Lady's dad "Dogs can have suture reactions after surgery, and if she licked the area after surgery she could have planted the bacteria in the sutures.".  Lady was given a big poke of Antie Biotics and sent home with two containers full of pills.  Vocal Vonie yiped in after they left, "Well, if you ask me, you get what you pay for.  Low cost spay means low cost suture, stuff not sterilized, and who know what other corners they cut.  I wish we could help people to realize just how risky it can be.  It's just too bad for Lady" Vonnie barked on.  Mother said "So long as the infection is just in the skin and surrounding tissue we're ok, if it goes into her abdomen, then it's a whole other problem.  At least she only has to be spayed once."

The other lesson had a happy ending.  Spotsie is a Papillon that is completely adored by her mother.  She is so adored that she never leaves her mothers arms.   When Vocal Vonnie once asked about getting a microchip put in Spotsie the answer she got was "But why?  She never leaves my arms.".  'Never' to humans, means never until they go away on vacation and leave you at home with your human sister.  And apparently no one ever told Spotsie's sister to carry her everywhere because as soon as she hit the ground she was off.  She disappeared for two full days.  Dancing Debbie first took the call asking if we had seen the missing Papillon.  Her first question to the caller was "Is she microchipped?".  Luckily, Spotsie was found flirting with some workers in an empty lot not far from her home.  She was limping,had a bee stinger in her leg, and was really thirsty but otherwise seemed impressively composed. 
I admit, I don't know what I would do for two days away from home -- no laps to lie in, no food and water brought to me on request, and I shudder to think of what might happen to Bea's ears in my absence.  Thank goodness for microchips, I don't know how they work, but I can sleep easy knowing that I have one. 

Pack of poodles

It took awhile for the humans to stop making the water come from their eyes, but by the afternoon, things at the clinic felt like they were getting back to normal.

Mother says, "nothing makes you feel better than a hug from a poodle!" and as luck would have it, we had 3 poodles in the clinic at the same time.  Taco, Moe and Jax all happened to be visiting at the same time, and all for different reasons.  Vonnie says, "They're just brothers from different mothers".  Mother says, "happiness is a poodle in your arms".  The small one, Moe, showed up bright and early at the clinic -- he arrived before I did.  At first I didn't even think he was a poodle, he was nothing more than a head in a bed. 

Pretty soon, mother was carrying him around hugging him and I realized that he was a mere canine with four legs like the rest of us.

Bea wonders why I don't get jealous with all the poodle-hugging going on, but I'm pretty confident of my top dog position around here.  After all I was the one licking the salty water off mother's face last night, not one of the fluffy poodleheads.  Mother says Bea and I just aren't as smart as the poodles, but I don't remember ever reading a poodle blog before, or even wanting to for that matter.  Enough barked.  

The past 5 days have been some of the longest for my parents.  They were busy through the weekend with one of our super special dog friends.  Mother said, "Don't you dare blog about this, Ronnie.  Because you can't help but be cute, and there is nothing cute about this story." 

So my paws have been still, my tongue quiet. 

Today the sad story came to a tragic conclusion.  I gave dogs honor that I wouldn't blog about it, but with water streaming down her face, mother wrote a poem that I wanted to bark out to the world:

A veterinarian's lament:

You come to me with eyes so sad,
you wish you didn't feel so bad.
You never complain, or cry, or whine,
and I wanted to say "you'll be just fine."
Just take these pills, you'll feel brand new,
but sicker you got, after only taking a few.

Over the years you've been in so much,
with your parents we were forever in touch.
Always a delicate stomach, and then bladder stones too,
We perservered and you sailed right through.
High fat in your blood, even a broken toe,
we would fix you up and off you'd go.

But this time was different, this time was bad,
you used up all of the cells that you had.
You didn't like the pills, and the pills really didn't like you,
and despite all the drugs away your time flew.

As patients go, you were the best,
never a growl or a snarl for any test.
All you wanted was to get back to your bed,
and back to your family of which you were head.
Four doctors you had, and no one a clue,
as to what, if anything different we could do.

Your parents so loving, wanted only what's best
and instead they were forced to lay you to rest.
You presence so strong, your abscence leaving them hollow,
and your pawprints so big, no other will be able to follow.
And now you are gone, and I can't explain why,
and all I can do is just sit and cry,
and hope, hope, hope, hope
that tomorrow no one will die.


            

I sure am glad that Halloween is over. Sweet Sally got caught up on her rest at her den, and is back at work looking a lot more like herself now.  I don't miss the spooky pumpkins or the giant spiders being thrown around either.  And now that all the candy collecting has happenened there are always sweet crumbs to find on the floor.
My parents are staying busy.  Each day we see more and more of our friends that went to the place called 'Up North' for the summer.  I guess Up North closes in the winter.

My sisters on my father's side, Mona and Daisy, are visiting this week. They brought along their evil cat sister, Grizelda.  Vocal Vonnie calls her "the meanest cat in the world!"  No one is allowed to even walk by her condo without getting hissed and swatted at.  Mother says she's so mean and busy frowning all the time, that her face just froze that way!

Most of our visitors have been in for the happy calls, eating lots of treats and getting their nails done.

Today I saw something I've never seen before.  The giant brown lab named Lake insisted on paying for his visit. With wagging tail, he gladly carried his dad's rawhide pouch filled with paper, up to Laughing Laura.  Pretty soon, all the humans were laughing. I have to paw it to him, it was a pretty good trick.  I don't think my dad's paper-filled pouch will fit in my mouth, and, of course, if it did, I might find some other things to buy with it.  But Lake was doing us dogs proud with a high brow trick like that. I just might be up all night working on something that can top it!!

Working to death...

I know it's been a long week.  We've had lots of pets in and out, and mother's stayed busy in the no-awake-dogs-allowed room, cutting the strange looking lumps and bumps off.  I'm looking forward to a quiet weekend at the den.  But I was still surprised with how tired Sally looked when I came into the clinic today.  Hard work really takes it's toll on the humans.  Vonnie says "we worked Sally to death".  I guess she needs a quiet weekend at her den too!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!

Alien creature found on golf course

I know that I usually blog on and on about the dogs and cats that come to visit my clinic.  But I sometimes forget that the people that belong to the dogs and casts are important too.  At least they are to my folks and their helpers.  Somtimes, the humans get really close to one another, almost like one of the pack, especially when the dog or cat has to come here all the time to get pills or pokes or the red syrup taken.  This was the case with Feisty and his mom.  Fiesty got sick last year and after lots of visits and lots of medicines he ended up taking his final sleep.  None of us had seen Feisty's mom since then.  That was until today. 

 So it was a big surprise when she walked in holding a box saying, "You'll never guess what I just found on the golf course."  Which was followed with a chorus of "Awwww' and "Ohhhhhhh" from Sweet Sally, Vocal Vonnie and Dancing Debbie.  "We're going to keep him," said Feisty's mom " we're going to name him Kane."  Vocal Vonnie picked up the tiny creature that didn't look like any kind of animal we normally see here and said, "Oh, Kane you're so cute. But you're covered in fleas so we need to give you a bath right away.  Actually, Mom, maybe you should probably name him Kandi instead of Kane because he's a she!" 

So it was that Kandi came to stay at the clinc for the soap treatment.  I was pretty sure that the tiny creature was not one of my canine brethren and was even more convinced once it got wet.

It sure looked like something from a far off land that I've never seen before.  None of the humans could get over how cute she was, none except mother.  "Kittens at this age just look like aliens to me, they're all ears, bellies and eyeballs"  she said.   "Just in time for Halloween then" Vonnie added.  Vonnie loves Halloween, in that same strange way I love to clean Bea's ears and Brawny Brandon loves anything edible.

I'm glad that Kandi found her way off the golf course and into a great home;  Feisty sure never had any complaints.  And lucky for Kandi, she won't have to wear a silly costume for Halloween, according to mother she's ready to go! 

Here's to wagging tails...

So last week I barked on about all the sick pets that came to visit.  Well, today we got to see first paw, one of the happy endings.  We've known Arnold since he was a puppy.  Well he's 3 years old now, and one day last week his legs stopped working.  Mother said "He's ruptured a disk in his back and it's pressing on his spinal cord.  He's going to need emergency surgery to get his legs moving again."  Arnold's mom wasted no time in getting him to the nerve-ologist.  Arnold had to spend the past two weeks at that clinic recovering from his sleeping procedure and learning how to use his legs again.  Apparently, once a disk gets ruptured you forget how to use your back legs.  But judging by the way he was waddling around today, his sleeping procedure was a success.  Those dachshunds have such short legs it hardly seems like anyone would notice if his legs didn't work, but I guess Arnold would notice. 

I could hardly keep my tail from wagging, I was so happy for him.  Way to go Arnold!

The Eyes have it....

Today was all about eyes.  I've always thought of eyes as producers of crunchy, salty goo that tastes delicious just after breakfast.  And I know that when I close my eyes, I can't see anything, so I figure they must be pretty important. My parents are always seeing pets for eye exams.  Lots of dogs, like my Aunt Becky, have trouble making enough tears.  Those dogs get green goo in their eyes, instead of brown crunchy goo -- it tastes different, still good but different. 

We had one dog come by today to get her "take-a-nap-and-dream-wake-up-with-teeth-clean" procedures.  Her name was Melody.  She's a Shih-tzu, so somewhere back we could be related, because I am half Shih-tzu too.  Anyway, all mother and Vonnie could say was "Wow, her eyes are so big.  Don't hold her too tight, her eyes could pop right out". And every time Vonnie touched Melody's face she said "Ewww, I think I touched her eyeball." Melody went to sleep and woke right back up with sparkling clean teeth.  Her eyes were as big as ever when she woke up and as she batted them at people walking by they couldn't help but stop and pet her.  Us Shih-tzu's really know how to work it!

The other case we had of eye trouble belonged to one of mother's favorite patients -- he's a boy Cocker spaniel named Fella.  Fella has had every problem a cocker spaniel can get, at least that's what Vocal Vonnie says, "He's got allergies, ear infections, bad teeth, glaucoma, torn cruciates, hypothyroidism and skin cancer -- it just figures, because he's such a sweet dog!"  So I guess according to Vonnie -- Terrible Tara will live forever.

So Fella was in to have a growth removed on his side, but since he had the glow-coma in his left eye and it had gotten all stretched out, mother recommended to remove his eye too!  Bea and I sat in silence as we watched Fella's eye get removed from his head! I was really glad that he slept through that.  Of course when he woke up, he was more upset about the sore and strings on his side than the eye missing.   He told me that he couldn't see out of the eye anyway, so the fact that he couldn't open his eyelids anymore didn't really bother him.  I can see why mother likes him so much.  I told him when he feels better he should chew something up in his house, drop some nuggets on the floor, or bark everyone up at 3 am;  that way he should be able to live forever.

It's been a whirlwind of a week since I last got to blog.  So much has happened. 
Last week we had a visit from Dr. Quinn - surgery woman, to fix a knee on my good maltese friend, Bruce Lee.  Dr. Quinn said he'd be doing high kicks again in no time.
We had two sad dachsunds get rushed in -- on separate emergencies -- one for not being able to move his back legs, and the other sick in her stomach from eating spare rib bones.  The first one, Billie, took a trip to the nerve-ologist to have back surgery.  He had to spend the whole week in the hospital, and now his legs have started working again.  The other little dachsund was not so lucky; she started with red syrup coming out where the nuggets come from, and while mother was trying to "stabilize" her, red syrup began to pour out of her mouth.  She went to the forever sleep shortly after that.  I don't know if I have any spare ribs, I'm pretty sure that I need all of mine, but even if I did have some spares I've definitely learned not to eat them.
Over the weekend, my folks went away to get something they call "continuing education" and Bea and I stayed with our Aunts Tara and Becky;  my girl Anna came too.  Tara is what mother calls "Tara-ble" around toys and loves to steal them and chew them up.  My girl Anna lost a toy to Tara-ble Tara this weekend, and before I knew what happened Tara ended up in the toilet.  Everyone got really angry with Anna. I knew there was a reason I left her toys alone!

Today, the clinic was filled with the sound of happy barks and purring cats. Mother was pleased that she got to see 4 poodles today, I think she said that was some kind of a record.  I started to think that poodles were taking over the world when No-more-hair-ica Erika showed up with her crew.  Bea and I were quickly informed through thick accents that the band of black giant dogs were in fact Portugese Water Dogs.  I thought that their barks sounded different.  Bea says she doesn't bark Portugese.  Well, neither do I, but that didn't keep me from announcing their arrival and warning them to watch their step -- after all, they were in Ronnie territory; at the Her-Ron Creek Animal Hospital.  I guess they really didn't understand my American barking because they seemed to ignore every bark I said.  Instead, they acted as if they owned the place.

Guess I have to add learning to bark Portugese on my list of things to do.....

So far the week is not off to a great start.  We had another cat get sick and depart after not being able to get his yellow marking liquid out.  It may have been because at the end his yellow marking liquid looked and smelled a lot like red syrup. His name was Gadget and seemed really cool, for a cat.

One of our other really sick cats seems to be feeling better these days.  His name is Ivan and he has what father calls 'can't sir'.  I'm still not sure what he can't do, except that when he first started to visit he didn't want to eat much at all.  I think he could, his mouth smelled ok and his licker seemed to work, but he just didn't want to.  Vocal Vonnie says Ivan is more famous than me now, on account of the fact that he got his name in the newspaper.  I wanted to tell her that I use newspapers for my marking liquid, but I was a bigger dog than that and focused my frustration on cleaning Bea's ears.  Her ears are very clean now.
Mostly Vocal Vonnie is upset that her new cats have to eat the wet kibbles in the cans in order to keep away the very problems that Snuggles and Gadget struggled with.  Vonnie blames mother for recommending the smelly food, that she says "her cats crave like addicts" and that the cat litter box smells bad.  Of course I heard her dogs bark a different story about the litter box.  They say it's delicious.  Mother says "canned food is a small price to pay for a healthy urinary tract.  All of the current literature supports canned food as the best choice for cats", and although I can tell that it pains Vonnie, she knows mother is right.  I know it's a tough lesson to learn Vonnie, but barking from one who knows, it's easier to learn it now than the hard way. 

Fall is here

Summer seems to be over. The days are getting shorter, a cool breeze is in the air, and Bea shows flashes of puppyhood as she tears around the yard, thinking she can run faster than me.  Of course, her long legs make it look like she's faster, but I always catch her. More and more visitors come to the clinic every day too.  Some are stocking up on kibbles for the winter, while others heard about Big Mike and want to do whatever they can to keep their pets from getting sick .  I like to think that I am responsible for getting the bark out on that one.

Mother's helper are acting different too.  Today, they just would not stop laughing.  It started with Taco the poodle.  Taco is one of our regulars and on mothers favorite list on account of the basic fact that he's a poodle.  He came in for the take-a-nap-get-clean-teeth routine, but was supposed to give mother some of the yellow marking liquid before he went to sleep.  Turns out, he only puts his yellow marking liquid on top of his sister's yellow marking liquid, and nowhere else.  Of course, Alice didn't come to the clinic today.  So mother decided to get the yellow marking liquid from Taco while he was taking his nap. The laughter started when mother asked Sweet Sally to hold Taco's boy parts so she could put a tube in to take the liquid out. It only got worse when Dancing Debbie was unpacking some boxes during the procedure and Vocal Vonnie asked, "Hey, what's that?"  Smirking, Sweet Sally replied "Gee, Vonnie you can see what I'm holding, do you really have to ask?"  Mother finished her work quickly, and said "Sorry, Taco, if you'd just have peed in a cup like we asked, we wouldn't have had to do this the hard way".  Which, for some reason, made Vonnie and Sally both break out in laughter again. 
The strange human barking continued into the afternoon.  Taco and another girl dog, Dizzie, were getting picked up by their parents - something mother refers to as 'discharging' them.  Taco had just left and Dizzie's parents were on their way in.  Vonnie didn't realize that Dizzie hadn't left yet and asked mother, "Aren't you done for the day? Are you going to head out?"  "No, I can't leave yet" mother replied "I have a discharge".  At the same time, Sweet Sally and Vocal Vonnie's eyes grew big and they laughed "Thanks for sharing Dr. Smith, but it's ok to keep some things to yourself!"  Mother grew red in the face and walked off, I can honestly say I've never seen my mother speechless before.  And just as I turned in disbelief, I heard her grumble "....children.." under her breath.  I think all the laughing is what the humans do instead of having tails to wag. 
So far, as much as I miss the warm days of summer, fall is turning out to be pretty interesting!

Last week there was a lot of growling and grumbling from the humans, I often ignore many of their strange noises unless they're making important words like cookie, cheese or car-ride.  But I couldn't help but listen when they were talking about dogs getting sick.  Turns out that some of the dogs that had gone overnight camping at the special dog-only camps, were coming back sick; sick as dogs.  I guess that's where the phrase comes from.  I wasn't worried at all about getting sick myself -- mother said she was worried about the dog flew, which I know I can't get because I do not know how to fly. Bea had to go on an airplane to come to our den, so she flew, but she never got sick. 

Big Mike, one of our regular visitors, goes to day camp a lot.  On Thursday, he was Sad Mike and kept snorting and sneezing, and didn't even try once to get a treat off the counter.  Mother took some red syrup and some black and white pictures of his chest.  "Mike's got pneumonia,  but I think we caught it early.  We'll get him some antibiotics and he should be feeling better in no time." mother advised.
Vocal Vonnie took some of the goo out of Mike's nose and sent it off in a tube.  We found out today that Mike must not have flown because he did not have the flew, instead it was something I'd never heard of, called Mike-o-plasma.  Go figure, Mike would get something named after himself.  Lucky for Mike, the bug is treated easily with Antie Biotics and as expected Big Mike was back to stealing-treats-off-the-counter Mike by today.
Mother's worried because more dogs might get sick from the Mike-o-plasma disease, and there's no poke she can give to prevent it.  She says camping dogs, or dog park dogs, and those dogs that have to go to school should all still get the flew shot, even if they don't plan on flying, better to be safe than sorry -- or sick as a dog! 

Things have been going by fast and furry-ious since I last blogged.  I wanted to be sure to give you some important updates on some of the pets I've told you about.
Ladybug and her little bug babies came in the day after they came into the world, so that Ladybug could get the tube taken out of her leg.  The whole family was doing well.  Ladybug still didn't know what had happened and where the babies had come from, but she put up with the crying, crawling kids nursing on her.  She did a good job cleaning up after them too, so I guess she was starting to get used to the idea of being a mom.  Mother's helpers were so excited to hear that Ladybug's mom was not going to be keeping all of the puppies, but since there are only three of them I'm worried that a fight might break out over who's going to get them.  My kibbles are on Sweet Sally, she's not always as sweet as everyone thinks.
Ivanka, the dog who laid an egg, came back in clearly relieved to be free of the egg.  She was able to get her yellow marking liquid out in big puddles again, instead of a few drips at a time.  Mother has her on a special food now so she won't make anymore eggs, and they're watching for bugs in the yellow liquid that can make the eggs too.  Ivanka is such a sweet furry lady, I'm happy for her.

I also have some bad news too.  If you've been reading the blog for awhile, you'll remember a cat named Downy that was in and out of the clinic always with trouble getting his marking liquid out.  Dr Quinn surgery woman, had even worked on him and turned his boy parts into girl parts to help him.  Sadly, he kept making stones that kept getting stuck, and we had to say good-bye to him last week.  It was so tough to see him groaning, and pushing and crying, so I know he went off to a better place when he went to sleep for the last time.  Rest well, Downy. 

I saw the strangest thing at the clinic today. A tiny little Chihuahua named Beauty came in because her belly was so full that it looked like she'd swallowed a ball.  I guess she'd just eaten too much because Sweet Sally, and my folks kept looking at the black and white pictures talking about all the little bones they could see.  I never get to eat real bones. Sometimes mother gets me rawhide bones to chew on, which are terrific by the way, but the smell of those chicken bones my folks get, now that's something I would dive into a garbage can for.

Anyway, smelly goo started to come out of Beauty's back end and she was pushing and pushing but nothing was coming out.  So my mom and Vocal Vonnie went to work placing tubes and removing hair so that Beauty could sleep and go into the no-awake-dogs-allowed room.  But what happened next was what I will never forget;  mother took out the largest balloon from Beauty's belly that I'd ever seen. 

 And just when I'd thought I'd seen everything, out of the balloon came mice.  At first I couldn't understand how Beauty could swallow whole mice and they still be alive. 

 But as I was struggling to understand everything that I was seeing and smelling and hearing, Bea woke up out of her aftersnack nap and sprung to attention. Her ears were moving, her nose was twitching and she kept licking her lips.  I'd seen her act like that a few times before, and always when newborn baby dogs were around.

Ok so it took me a few minutes to figure it all out (maybe I need to spend less time with Brawny Brandon) Beauty had puppies today; three adorable little puppies that sure sounded healthy by the way they were screaming.  Bea says she always pushed her puppies out the normal way, but that she had 14 sisters that had to go to sleep to get the puppies out.  So Beauty had a happy ending after all, if going home with three screaming kids is happy.  Bea says she doesn't miss it one little bit, but judging by the way she held me down to clean my ears I sensed that part of her wished she still had puppies to clean. 

Since we've been back from summer break, Wednesday's are usually mother's day at the den.  Bea and I get to sleep in, and then wait in our cozy cave while mother leaves, then comes back, then leaves again.  Always carrying in different bags or books, and rarely, a special treat for us.  But today was a different Wednesday; we spent it at the clinic.  At first it seemed like business as usual.  Several nervous, shaking dogs in to have sleeping work done, getting tubes put in their legs.  Pretty soon, more and more dogs started to arrive.  Each one came in with hair longer than Bea's and I thought it seemed strange that none of the hairy dogs were getting the tubes.  Then Bea spotted her out of the corner of her eye -- Bea threw her head back and barked an announcement long before I knew what she was talking about.  No-more-hair-ica Erika was at the clinic.  I'd seen her once or twice, but Bea knew her well.  A few times Bea went missing for the day, and when she came back she looked and smelled like a different dog.  Today, I saw first-paw exactly how that happened.  I got to see No-more-hair-ica Erika in action.

Bea was not the only dog getting the hair removed, and each one got a soap treatment, too. The smell of fear was everywhere, but by the end of the day, the only thing I smelled was soap and toe-nail dust, with just a hint of anal gland essence sprinkled in -- subtle, yet magnificent!

One of todays visitors to have the hair removed, was a Yorkie puppy named LadyBug.  She was a demure, well-behaved girl that endured all of the hair brushing and trimming and soaping and bow-pinning like a champ.  So I was really surprised when I heard Vocal Vonnie say, "She gives new meaning to the term 'land shark'.  Just look at how many extra teeth she has!"  My dad took a quick peak and said, "Wow, I don't think she's lost even one of her baby teeth, but all the adult teeth came in anyway!  Her poor little mouth is so crowded now.  Let's talk to her mom and set up a time to remove those next week." he instructed Vonnie.  I listened with interest because usually barking about 'land sharks' mean that some little dog is about to launch themselves teeth first at one of mother's helpers.  But not Ladybug, she was as sweet as ever.  I'm glad I get to see her again next week, and happy that after her sleeping procedure no one will think of her as a shark ever again.  Us little dogs have to stick together you know!