I'm really sorry to anyone who came looking for this blog last night and didn't find it.  Friday was kind of crazy. Remember, the dog I told you about from Tuesday; Ming-Ming the Shar-Pei with the girl problems?  Well, we had another dog come in to the clinic with the exact same problem.  Her name was Confetti and she was 13 years old; a mix of dogs kind of like me, but bigger.  She had pink goo coming from her girl parts just like Ming-Ming did.  Maybe it was that Confetti was so much older, but she acted a lot sicker than Ming-Ming did.  She could barely raise her head when she came in.

My parents went to work right away.  Father started testing the red syrup for signs that the infection had spread, Sweet Sally but the tubes in Confetti's arm, as mother prepared for surgery.  A few hours later, Confetti was being carried out of the no-awake-dogs-allowed room still fast asleep.  Vocal Vonnie also carried out the parts that mother had removed.  "It's looks like a sausage" was all that Brandon could say. A raucous chorus of "Ewwww" was all anyone else could say.

Confetti was slow to regain her feet and had to go the emergency clinic overnight.  She seemed like a sweet old lady, so I hope everything works out for her.  Between Ming-Ming, Bea and now Confetti I am officially glad that my parts were removed, although I do have to admit that the talk of sausage made my mouth water and my belly start to growl.

Note: last picture is of a normal dog uterus.

Above picture came from Confetti - it's so big because it's filled with pus!

I didn't realize how much I missed the bustle of busy clinic life until it was gone; the comforting buzz of the humming table motor, the pitter-pat of sneakers walking back and forth and the worried panting of most of our furry visitors.  Father and his helpers even managed to drown out the noises from behind the wall.

One patient today was especially memorable.  He was a blue pitbull puppy named Donatello.  He was practicing his ninja moves in the yard at home and landed wrong on one of his legs.  "I normally nail that move," he panted "I don't know what I did wrong".  But whatever he did made his left leg bend at an unusual angle.  "It really kind of hurts," was that last thing he said before father dosed him with a good amount of dreaming medicine.

And dream he did.  Vocal Vonnie and Brawny Brandon took the black and white pictures of the sleeping pup on the humming table.  They had him upside down and backwards and the little guy kept on sleeping.

"Wow, he really did a number on himself," father commented after looking at the pictures. "Looks like he's going to need surgery."  Father went to call Dr. Quinn, surgery woman, while mother wrapped Donatello's bad leg in layer after layer of colored blankets; first white, then brown, then blue.  She even strapped a large piece of plastic to his leg that I heard her call 'a splint'.
Donatello slept for the rest of the morning.  When he finally woke up, he seemed more disappointed that his leg was all wrapped up, and he couldn't bend it. "How am I supposed to do 360's off the porch now?" he whined.
Well, they say pitbulls are tough dogs, but I've never heard anyone accuse them of being smart dogs!

So I finally caught a glimpse of the creature behind the wall.  The large plastic sheet came down and I saw a big creature with 3 heads and 6 legs that looked like it was covered in snow.  As I watched in fascination I began to realize that it wasn't a creature at all; it was 3 creatures, well, human men creatures actually.  They were crawling on their hands and knees putting the floor together. 
I can't help but wonder what happened to the noisy giant thing that destroyed the wall.  It did so much damage that it's taking 3 men to put it all back together.
The good news about all this drama next door is that now with the wall missing, we're going to have more space around here.  My parents have been so troubled about the dust and noise they probably haven't thought about the upside of all this. I wonder if Bea and I will get a bigger apartment.  I love Bea and everything, but sometimes a girl just needs her space to stretch out.
Again we had a shortage of furry playdates.  Bea did get to bark at one of her long lost relatives. He looked just like her.  Mother tells me that Bea and I are related too, but I just don't see it.  And whenever I do see another dog that's supposedly related to us, they always look like Bea.  Goes to show you that I am truly one of a kind.

This clinic can get kind of lonely without the patter of furry feet.  Mother wanted me to invite all my furry friends to visit.  She says that I will put them in the blog if they come in to play or send pictures to hcah1@verizon.net.  I just really want some friends to roll around with and sink my teeth into.  Bea can be such a stuffed animal sometimes that I like some fresh competition!  Hope to see you soon!

Dust and ash still fill the air. The sounds are starting to die down next door, but no signs yet of what made the holes in the walls.  It’s been pretty quiet at the clinic which is probably a good thing. If my den looked like this place looks right now, I might not want to invite the pups over to play.  It seems like my parents are only seeing the sick dogs this week. I don’t know where the happy, healthy ones went. Maybe the monster behind the wall scared them away.

A large black lab, named David, came in with the droopy, sloshy ear disease. Father had to drain all of the red syrup out.  We’ve also had two dogs visit that have the worms living in their hearts. Their hearts sound ok to me, but I guess that’s why they’re getting the worm out treatment; to keep their hearts sounding good.

We also had a large wrinkly girl Shar-Pei dog named Ming-Ming come in. Ming-Ming was having a problem with her girl parts. The Shar-Pei’s mom was hoping to get Shar-Pei grandbabies, but then she noticed pink fluid coming from Ming-Ming’s girl parts over the weekend. “She’s not acting like herself. She just wants to lie around all the time. She’s been drinking tons of water too. Do you think she’s losing the babies?” Ming-Ming’s mom questioned.   Mother felt the wrinkly girl’s round belly and looked at the pink stringy mucous coming out of the girl parts. Father scanned her middle with the goo covered probe, but didn’t see any babies in the black and white pictures.

Finally mother had to deliver the sad news; “Ming-Ming’s not pregnant. Her uterus is filled with fluid and the discharge coming out is a sign of a very serious infection. The best way to treat her is to spay her as soon as possible.” Ming-Ming’s mom was preparing to be a grandmother, and the news that no puppies were coming took her by surprise. But the idea that there would never be puppies was too much for her to bear. So Ming-Ming waddled out with medication and a vow from my mother to check on her every day. Bea says the whole puppy thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I hope that Ming-Ming will get her surgery before it’s too late.

So this morning my worst fears were realized.  The thing that was living next door broke through the walls.  It must have been breathing fire because there was dust and ash everywhere.  I almost didn't recognize the clinic.  Dancing Debbie and Sweet Sally started right away to clean up; washing the place up and down much like I clean Bea's ears.  But Bea's ears smell better when I'm done.
My parents keep checking in the space next door.  I'm not sure that the thing is gone yet.  There are a lot of strange noises still, some banging and some high-pitched screaming sounds.  I'm almost afraid to see what it looks like over there.  Strangely, there seems to be an excitement in the air; an anticipation of something good to come.
Mother, Brawny Brandon and Sweet Sally were even joking around today.  Sally wanted to check an angry cat patient for a microchip.  I don't know what the microchips are except that they seem to exist around your back and can be detected with the wave of a wand.  Mother wanted to hurry up and finish looking the cat over, and was using the metal comb to look for fleas. Sally was waiting patiently for her turn.  "You can scan the cat while I comb it, Sally"  mother instructed. "Oh, I wasn't sure if the comb would interfere" Sally explained.  "Well, you know Sally, the scanner reads radiofrequency, unless the comb has a microchip we should be ok" mother answered.  "Gee, Sally.  What did you think, it was some kind of metal detector?"  Brandon questioned, laughing. "Even I knew that!"  "Well, I may not know it's not a metal detector but at least I know where I am!" Sally offered back.
Now this story may only be funny to those people whe have had the chance to meet and get to know Brandon. He's a quiet, friendly sort that strangely seems to prefer Bea to me.  He's what vocal Vonnie refers to as a "good ole boy".  Well, shortly after Brandon started work at the clinic, people soon seemed to realize that he was easily confused.  Mother once asked him for something off a shelf, and after repeatedly pointing at it Brandon was lost, and answered with "Wait, wait, wait....I don't even know where you are right now!"  Quickly, mother responded with, "Well, I don't know about you Brandon, but I'm in Florida!"
He hasn't been able to live that one down since.  Come to think of it, I think I finally understand why he likes Bea better than me.

It was father's turn to work today.   He was busy in the morning, treating mostly happy pets.  The only sick one was a puppy with a case of the hiccups.  His parents were really pleased to find out that he wasn't having fits like they thought.
All day today I got the sense that something was happening outside our clinic; on the side right behind our apartment.  For the past week it sounded as if there was a storm going on, with all the rumbling and cracking noises.  More recently it's been banging.  Not a common banging like someone who wants to come in a door, but a repeated banging like nothing I've ever heard before.  Now I think it must be some kind of large animal in a cage.  I hear low grumbling that must be it's stomach talking, and scratching sounds like it's trying to get out.  It doesn't sound like a dog, in fact it doesn't sound like any animal I've ever heard before.  Father goes over there several times a day to check on it, and always comes back smelling like dust and hot dirt.
I know that my parents want our clinic to get busier but I really don't think treating large, unruly animals is the best way.
I am really afraid that it's going to come right through the wall any day now.  Well, as long as it doesn't want to eat small cute dogs, I should be ok.  Even still, I can run faster than Bea and have a lot less meat on my bones so I'm not worried.  Too bad for Bea. 

Mother got good news today.  One of our favorite patients, Porscha, the bull terrier puppy had to go see a dental specialist for her tooth; actually, for a missing tooth.  Mother had noticed the missing tooth when Porscha was in for her thumb removals last month. While Porscha was sleeping, mother had taken black and white pictures of the spot in her mouth where the tooth was missing.   Mother could see the tooth on the pictures but couldn't see it when she looked in her mouth.

Mother had made a special point to talk to Porscha's parents that day.  "I think she should go to see a dog dentist.  Dr. Mountain is an excellent dentist, he might be able to get the tooth to erupt.  If not, then it needs to be extracted because a buried tooth like that can cause problems" mother advised.  Porscha's parents were so worried about the missing thumbs that day, that mother wasn't sure if they were going get her tooth fixed.
Today, she found out that Porscha had gone to the dentist.  Dr. Mountain called to give mother the update.  The look on mother's face said it all; a mix of relief, pride and happiness.  After her conversation, mother told everybody what Dr. Mountain had said, "Way to go investigating that missing tooth.  Turns out Porscha was forming a cyst around the missing tooth. I've seen those cysts get really big before they're found and they can remove a lot of bone before then.  You saved Porscha's jaw, and a much bigger surgery.  Good find!"  After that mother smiled for the rest of the day.   Sounds like a good night to get few more treats out of her.

Today was pretty mellow.  I had time to pull all of the seeds off of Bea's fur.  The seeds have a crunchy center so it makes a nice after-breakfast snack.  Mother keeps saying that she's going to take Bea to have her hair cut, but I really like it when it's long.  I love to snuggle up against her warm locks, and the fun things that get stuck in her hair are just an extra bonus.

Mother saw an interesting mix of pets today; some sick, some tail-wagging happy, and some acting happy but masking their sickness.   I met a new friend today, a young Golden Retriever named Teagan.  She had long flowing locks, and brains that belied her good looks.  Teagan was a champion of obedience and agility, and a certified pet therapy dog.  She was here today for her routine visit with mother, but to help her family out she stayed for the day.  Sweet Sally went over the instructions, "She needs her Rabies immunization updated, her heartworm test done, oh.. and Teagan's mom wants us to check a lump on her neck.  She says it doesn't bother Teagan, but it's been there for a few months and now it's getting bigger." 
Lump checking is a standard request for mother.  She takes a tiny metal stick, pokes it in the lump and then squeezes the goo out on to a piece of glass. Then she dips the glass in different colors and looks at it under the special eyeglasses on the counter.  Teagan didn't even notice when the lump was checked.  "Well, it's not fat"  mother said quickly as she looked at the goo that came out of the metal stick.  "That must have been a lymph node to look at those cells" she concluded after looking into the eyeglasses.  "Now the real question is why does a young dog have a large lymph node that's not bothering her.  I didn't notice any cuts or infection."  she added. 
When Teagan's mother came to pick up her daughter, mother went over her findings.  "It's probably just a reactive lymph node.  We'll put her on some medication and hope her lymph node is large because of infection.  But if it's not better in one week, we will want to do a biopsy." mother explained.  "Biopsy?  Biopsy!  Why would it need a biopsy?  It can't be cancer, can it?  She's so young?"  Teagan's mom pleaded.  "I agree, it's unusual. But we can't rule anything out just yet.  It's important that we hope for the best right now.  You can prepare for the worst, but you really need to hope for the best" mother offered, in her most hopeful voice.  I didn't smell any fear on mother, and that's how I know when to worry.  Teagan is such a strong, beautiful, smart dog, it's hard to imagine her really being sick.  I am definitely hoping for the best. 

The sickest animal we've been around the past few days has been the girl, Anna, that lives in my den.  She has been bringing up her kibbles for the past 2 days.  She's had a red glow around her and warms any room she enters.  Both of my parents have been really worried about her and father spent a whole night cleaning used food out of the cracks in the couch.  Of course, I did my best to help with the clean up.

My own inner workings are finally back on track.  Mother is convinced that my habit of enjoying some fresh morning rabbit nuggets are to blame and she's kept me on a tight leash -- literally.
I don't really understand the humans fascination with the brown nuggets, it's as if it's taboo or something.  Honestly, I don't think I've ever met a brown nugget that I didn't want to eat.  I like them fresh from the source in Bea's case, and find that each species adds it's own special flavor.  Cat nuggets are by far the best.  Debbie's son, Prince, told me that he likes to eat nuggets covered in frost, for a special frozen treat.

Mother acts like it's the worst thing ever for me to put nuggets in my mouth but I watch all day as her helpers package what they call stool samples and collect them in the the cold box.  We have a cold box back at the den just like the one at the clinic and I know for a fact that is where the food is kept.  You just can trust the humans, they always keep all the good stuff for themselves!

Well the weather has finally thawed, and things were heating back up at the clinic today.  Mother was by herself because father had agreed to work at Cloudy River Animal clinic.  I didn't really understand the whole story, something about a holiday, and a big meeting in a place called Orlando. However, it happened there was an overall shortage of pet doctors around today, so mother was especially busy.
The morning was mostly filled with happy visits, pets getting caught up with mother, going over what had changed in their lives.  Mostly it seemed that the pets were busy storing fat for the winter.  Mother says that winter in Florida is no reason to store fat so most of the visitors left with a new diet. I recognized some of the food mother prescribed was the same as the stuff Bea eats.  Mother says Bea has to eat the "cardboard diet" because Bea just looks at food and gains weight.  Bea really likes cardboard though, so she doesn't mind.

One our frequent visitors, an old man Yorkie named Guy, came back today for black and white pictures of his belly.  He's been having trouble getting the yellow liquid out.  "We know he's had bladder stones for the past few years, but they've never seemed to bother him until now." I overheard mother giving the update to Sweet Sally.  "We just need to know what's changed."  The good news was that none of the stones seemed stuck, but the bad news was that the stones had gotten bigger.  "It's your decision " mother counseled Guy's mom, "we can give him medicine and hope that his bladder calms down, but we may have to do surgery to take those stones out."  Guy's mom was too worried that her 14 year old boy would go to sleep and not wake up if he had a procedure, so they decided to give some medicine a try.  Shortly after that a large black cat, named Black, came in with a yellow marking liquid problem too.  But Black had no problem getting the liquid out, he just kept getting it out on the owner's clothes, blankets and pillows.  Black stayed for the whole day and didn't offer up one drop for mother to look at.  "Well, he can't be having too much of a problem then, can he " mother commented.
In addition to all of the normal visits, mother had planned a special procedure. My parents had been to a pet doctor school a few weekends back and learned how to fix pinched dog noses.  Apparently, some dogs are not born with my perfectly proportioned nose holes.  Some dogs have no holes to breathe through and struggle and snore their whole lives.  Surgery done as a puppy can help fix the problem.  So today, mother found a puppy volunteer on which to try her newly taught skills.  The Shih-tzu puppy was named Puppy, since the owners were still hoping to find him a home.  Puppy was the smallest of 8 puppies in the litter and the only one not sold due to his pinched nostrils, and snot-bubble blowing when he got excited.  Puppy was a real trooper for all of his pinches.  I could smell mother's fear when she approached the little pups nose with the sharp metal blade. Twenty minutes later, with less of the red syrup smell than mother had expected, the puppy was already waking back up.  "It was easier to cut than I thought it would be" I later overheard mother updating my dad "but I don't know how much difference I made."  "Just remember that the surgeon said that every little bit helps, and if it wasn't for you, this puppy wouldn't even have that" father offered. His words helped mother to lose a little of her worried look.  As I left the clinic for the night, breathing cool air through my perfectly formed nostrils I felt truly fortunate not to have one of the many problems that mother uses knives to fix. 

Another Friday, and the end to another week.  I won't be sorry to see this week go.  The hours seemed to drag, and I definitely did not get enough play time.  Unless you count playing with a large inflatable flea, which admittedly is fun for a little while, but ultimately unsatisfying.
The week finished up with good news for all of our visitors. Mother had been treating a black cat named Felicity for having liquid nuggets.  Mother, father and the specialists had decided that Felicity probably had colon cancer and the outlook was not good.  Felicity's mom was worried about her sweet cat having a sleepy procedure so the decision was to treat her with medicine and see how she did.  Today we found out that she's doing better.  "Well, maybe we'll get lucky and she'll only have inflammatory bowel disease"  mother offered with an air of hope.  Any disease with that many syllables doesn't sound like good news to me, but I guess that's why I'm the mascot and not the doctor.

At the end of the day, I got a visit from one of my favorite playmates, Carly.  Carly has a short nose like me, but she's black and white and not nearly as cute.  She's super fun to play with though.  The only thing I wish she had was more hair on her face.  I'm so used to being able to grab a mouthful of face hair when I play with Bea, that's it's just hard to come up with some new moves when I play with Carly. 
Carly came with her older sister, Daphne.  Daphne and Carly definitely look alike, but they are sisters like me and Bea are sisters; just soulmates for life, not actually related.  Daphne's mom brought her to visit my dad to have the black and white moving pictures taken of her insides.

  Daphne was not impressed with me, the clinic or the goo covered probe that was to be placed on her belly.  She behaved like a perfect lady, except for the snoring during the show.

I didn't get a chance to see what was on the inside because I was too busy schooling Carly on how to obey me.  The news couldn't have been too bad though because there were no watery eyes or hugging going on afterwards.  Yep, all in all, a pretty good end to the week.

Strange days at the clinic.  Hours of quiet, then bursts of activity.  During the down times, mother gets a little stir crazy.  She's started experimenting with a new brand of animal.  The animals came in a box and mother literally had to breath life in to them. 

Mother says the whole point is to remind everyone what a large pain pests can be. 
Now I've never had fleas myself, so I did not know what they tasted like.  I can tell you that they taste pretty good.
Bea's had fleas before, lots of times.  Her pack used to call her FleaBea.  She says even though she used to have them all the time where she grew up, the fleas were too small and quick to ever get to taste one.
It wasn't long before mother had the flea trained.  It sat right where she wanted it to. 
Bea says that I could have been that fleas sister, it being brown and almost the same size as me.  I said that I have no doubt that I'm much better looking.  But since she was so sure that me and the flea were related, I bit her on the rump five times just to prove her point.  That'll teach her to compare me to a flea!

I really enjoyed my time at the clinic today.  It wasn't the number of pets that came in, but who they were.  My Aunts came for a visit!  I really don't get to see them enough.  Tara and I used to chew on each other on a regular basis, until Bea and Becky came into our lives.  Now we only get to see each other on holidays and other family outings.  Aunt Beck comes to the clinic every week for her soap treatment, but we don't usually talk much.  Becky is more of a barker anyway. 

The best part about today was that Tara and Becky were "due for their immunizations" as Sweet Sally put it.  Mother looked over the records and decided that each of them needed a full examination.  I watched in delight as mother opened their mouths, shone lights in their eyes and ears, pulled on legs, squeezed bellies, took the red syrup and snipped off nail bits.  Becky seemed to enjoy the attention, because to be honest, most people are afraid to touch her, so I think she's happy to get what she can get.  Tara, on the other paw, was afraid for her life.  She hid it well, but her constant shaking and the smell of fear gave it away.

Mother was fascinated by Becky.  She already had a list of problems that we knew about:  missing fur, covered with tiny black skin bumps that Vocal Vonnie always wants to pinch, smelling of cheese and a bad eye that makes green goo instead of tears.  Today, mother discovered one more problem; everytime Becky's right ear was touched the dog would cough and gag. "Add one more deformity to the list", mother said.  Nana says it's a face only a mother could love.  Well, maybe, but not my mother; I guess it's only a face a grandmother can love.   

The cold weather is getting harder to bear.  I dread walking out of the cozy cave in the mornings.  It seems that Bea and I are not the only ones that don't want to leave the den to come to the clinic.  We mostly had the place to ourselves. 
Mother did get to solve a challenging puzzle.  Fizz, was a 3 year old Jack Russell that came in for a second opinion.  Fizz was having trouble getting the kibbles down, and he would cough and gag after trying to eat.  The last pet doctor that saw Fizz had given him some medicine for a sore throat but it hadn't helped. 
Mother took a look at Fizz and noticed that his throat did seem swollen, but from the outside, particularly the left side.  Mother convinced Fizz's parents to let him stay for some pictures on the black and white table.
Of course, Fizz was not one to sit still for pictures.  Fizz was a typical Jack Russell terrier in that he liked doing things his way, and was not one to listen to suggestions.
Mother drew up a special pinch with Fizz's name on it, and shortly Fizz was snoring away.
The black and white pictures showed mother the cause of the sore throat  Fizz had a sewing needle lodged in his throat.  Since Fizz was already asleep, it took only a quick peek with a light and some tools to get the needle out.  Fizz woke up quickly, content to have the needle removed from his throat.

 He didn't speak as much as I expected afteward, but mumbled something about it "being about time".
Fizz's parents were happy that the problem had been solved, but not nearly as happy as having the needle back. "I've been looking everywhere for that" Fizz's mom gushed, "I didn't even realize that Fizz had been in my sewing room".
For me the most incredible part of the story was realizing that people other than my mother use tiny metal sticks to sew things other than pets.  Well, they say you learn something new everyday!

Looks like none of the purebred types were dog enough to bark up about their kind -- looks like the mixes have it.  Mother says we have something called "hybrid vigor", I say that we're just entirely special and one of a kind.
Of course, whatever health benefit my genetics gives me was not helping today.  Admittedly, I been having some belly upset and my normally well-formed tube-like nuggets are now nothing more than muddy puddles.  The worst part is that when I have to go, I really have to go.  I can't seem to control it.  The other day, I tried to tell mother that I had to go out, but she must have thought that super cute way I paw at her was just me trying to get up on her lap like usual.  She didn't realize that this time I was pawing at her to go outside.  She was not too happy to find that I had used the guest bedroom as my nugget resting place.
Her attempt to teach me a lesson was punishment in the form of me skipping a meal.  No big deal, I just ate some extra rabbit droppings outside.  The special canned food she brought home to help my belly was especially yummy; I knew Bea was terribly jealous.  The next day I tried to tell my father to keep giving me the special canned food but he's kind of a creature of habit and out came my usual dry kibbles.  I do love dry kibbles.  It seemed like my belly was back on track for a day or so despite the changes, but there are so many delicious things in the yard and under Anna's bed that I just can't resist.  Today, my belly upset overcame me at the clinic.  Normally, Bea loves to share the villa with me, but mother knew something was up when Bea was trying to dig her way out this afternoon.  I've apologized to her twice now.  When the nuggets (or should I bark, mud) comes like that; it's a force I can't fight.  Bea wants her own apartment now.
Tonight, I thought it would be an empty stomach night but mother cooked me some tiny white warm kibbles and gave me some chalk to eat.  I really hope it helps.  She also started taking me out around the den with my leash on, not letting me near my normal rabbit dropping snack bar.  I'll just have to wait until she lets her guard down. 

I guess everyone was too cold to come to the clinic today.  Maybe tomorrow it will be busier and Bea will have to share an apartment with me again.  I really hope so.  Purebred or not, I'll really miss snuggling up with that hairy girl. 

Winter is the season of holidays, snuggling in warm dens, growing long woolly coats and taking naps.  Winter also breeds competition.  Something called the "Winterolympics" are starting soon, and my parents are always discussing football, and "getting ready for the big game".  Since winter breeds competition, and there's not much medical drama going on today, I thought I would discuss a competition of breeds; or should I say between breeds.  As you know, Bea, the one true love of my life is a pure-bred Brussels Griffon.  Some say pure-bred, some say in-bred, I say completely adorable but not too bright.  I think when animals are bred purely for looks, that something's gotta give in another area, and in Bea's case it's the smarts area.  I, on the other paw, am a mixed breed dog, incorporating the best attributes of different breeds into one healthy, fiesty, and yes, I'll bark it, adorable little package.

So my contention is this;  mixed breed dogs rule!  There, it's been said.  Now, I know that I have some avid followers that are of the purebreed lineage and are bound to growl in disagreement with me.  I think this sort of disagreement will only serve to enlighten this discussion and help us all to understand what's so great about having related parents.  Should any pet want to add their story to this blog, please feel free to send your story to my mother at hcah1@verizon.net and I will look it over and decide if any stories are worth adding to my superiorly bred blog.
In the meantime, I thought I would add some pictures of adorable "designer" dogs (or mixed breed if you prefer) that I've recently met and been very impressed with:

Bosco the Rott-ador

Gomer -- the beagle plus ?

Maggie the Pomapoo

Dizzy the morkie

Prince the Chihua-tzu

Bear the Pinhuahua

And these photos really only scratch the surface.  Of course, I can add myself into the discussion -- the Shiffon.

 Don't get me wrong, Bea and those like her are beautiful dogs, but in the spirit of competition, I challenge anyone (furry or not) to come up with cuter creatures than the ones I've shown above.  Let the games begin!

The past few mornings have been so cold.  I can't really explain it but I have an inexplicable urge to gather food and look for a cave. I am also filled with such energy in the morning.  I go out, do my usual business, and then I have to run three full laps around Bea while she finishes her business -- it always takes her awhile.  When she's finally done, I chase her for another two laps.  If it wasn't for mother dressing us for work, I think I could run like that for hours.
There's definitely a busy energy at the clinic these days.  Both of my parents are at the clinic all day now.  They used to take turns watching over the clinic in the lazy days of summer, but the winter energy must be driving them too.  Mother spent her day in the no-awake-dogs-allowed room, removing inner parts from the sleeping young patients.  Father kept busy meeting new pets and visiting with old friends, mostly for happy visits today. 
There was a scary sad occurence right around lunch time. Every other Thursday the entire crew sits down and eats their lunch directly in front of Bea and me.   They don't share any of their lunch with us, they just eat it right in front of us.  They gather and talk back and forth at each other while they eat.  This Thursday, the meeting was about to start when Patient Pam announced "That was just my husband on the phone.  Our neighbors dog was hit by a car and he sent them straight to us.  They'll be here any minute."  What happened next was like watching ants on an antpile once you step on it. People were scurrying in every direction -- one got the breathing tubes, one set up the tube for in the arm, one laid out blankets, one turned on the humming table for pictures.  A few minutes later in came the crumpled package, a round Dachshund named Beau.  Beau seemed to be holding his body in one position, not wanting to move.  Mother looked him over and started barking out the orders.  Soon, every part of little Beau was being evaluated.  "Oh, no. This is a problem," father announced "I don't think he has any feeling in his back legs."  Sure enough, when Beau was helped to stand his back legs just folded limply under him.  The black and white pictures confirmed what my parents where worried about.
"It's his spinal cord," mother explained to Beau's worried family, "the car broke one of the bones in his back.  A specialist might be able to help, but he may be paralyzed for the rest of his life."  Beau's mother could barely speak, and water was streaming from her eyes when she made her arrangements with mother.  She didn't want to see Beau in any more pain, and so my mother helped Beau go to the Bridge. 
As quickly as the clinic had sprung to life, things slowed back down.  Mother's helpers put all of the machines away quietly with their heads down.  It seemed as if each person was thinking of a furry friend that they would hate to say good-bye to. It wasn't long before mother was giving me and Bea a big hug.  I couldn't help but think of Beau running out of his house this morning, enjoying the cold and not realizing that it would be his last romp. I think I'll chase Bea for four laps tomorrow.

A strange creature came in to the clinic today.  I really would have thought it was one of those little people, like my girl at home. But this two-legged creature came in with Patient Pam and then happily walked into one of our larger pet villas.  And there she sat.  Patient Pam was visiting with her old lady dog, Zani and didn't mind that the other pet had made itself at home in the villa.  Zani was visiting because she wasn't feeling well, and her brown nuggets looked more like red stew.  Patient Pam is a bit of a worrier and I could smell her fear about Zani from the moment she came in the door.  My father and his team looked Zani over and got samples of her red syrup.  Pam's other pet sat quietly in the cage until it was time to go home.  Everyone marveled at how well behaved she was, and how cute she was.  I for one hope that mother doesn't decide to start treating this new species.

Yesterday was so busy, I barely had a chance to bark about all that happened.  Things were calmer at the clinic today so now I can tell the story of a most interesting case.

My parents had barely left to get a quick bite to eat  for lunch, when in rushed a black cat named Royce and his hysterical human mom. "Someone needs to look at my cat right away... there's something wrong with him, he's not acting right" she howled.  Royce was howling too;  the yowling and howling of an uncomfortable cat, usually the song sung by cats that can't get the yellow marking liquid out.  Sweet Sally and Patient Pam went to work making all the machines beep to try to figure out how sick Royce was.  Mother was called and she confirmed it:  "Your cat is really sick. His temperature is 107, and he acts like his belly is painful but his bladder is small so I don't yet know what's going on."  "Sick?  How could he get sick?" Royce's mother questioned.  "He was fine this morning.  Do you think someone poisoned him?"  Royce's mother started barking on, and on.  As she talked I noticed her words slurring, and the odor of alcohol rose like a cloud from her breath.  I caught mother looking down and realized that the lady wasn't wearing any foot coverings. 
I admit that these cool mornings we've been having are loads of fun.  I find myself filled with energy to run and hop and play.  But if I were like those humans, with no fur on my feet, there's no way I'd leave the den without something covering them.  Despite mother's visual inspection, Royce's mother continued;  "I have a neighbor that might have poisoned him, or could a snake have bit him? Do whatever it takes to make him better.  My mother's paying the bill, so do whatever it takes."
On those instructions the team went to work:  tube in the arm to run the liquid in,  clear liquid on the gums to ease Royce's pain, red syrup out of the neck for testing, poke in the back to kill any germs, and finally to the humming table for pictures.  "His x-rays are perfect, his lab work is normal and yet he's acts like he wants to die!  I just don't get it!" mother barked at no one in particular.  Shortly afterwards, Sweet Sally was checking Royce's temperature and noticed some red liquid on his chest.  She called the team over and after removing the fur from over the oozing spot, mother found the source of Royce's pain.  I had a perfect view from my villa to see that there was a large bruise over the cats neck and chest area that was dripping smelly red liquid from multiple tiny holes.  The whole thing smelled like delicious rabbit pellets on a warm summer morning.  It was evidently the source of Royce's pain but the look of it didn't help mother get any closer to answers.  "A snake bite -- but so many holes?  Racoon bites?  Did he fall on something?  Maybe a chemical burn?"  It seemed like everyone was talking simultaneously, including Royce.

The end of the day quickly approached and in the midst of all of the other patients going home for the day, mother had to try to explain how worried she was about Royce to the shoeless lady.  "I really think you should take him to the emergency clinic tonight.  Do you know where that is? she asked.  "Yes, I've been there before.  But I really want him home with us.  He needs to be with us.  I'll bring him back first thing" was the answer; although based on mother and Pam's faces, not the one she wanted to hear.  So Royce got his arm all wrapped and more liquid on the gums to help him sleep for the ride home.
Neither I nor mother was surprised to hear this morning that Royce had fallen asleep last night and not woken up.  Sadly a crazy end to a crazy day. 

Pup, am I glad to be back at the clinic! It was another long weekend at the den. I spent most of the time either chasing Bea under the bed, or nestled in our cozy cave. Not even any visitors to drop snacks on the floor this time.

The night before the big weekend, mother helped out at her friends hospital where the large cats run wild. Since it was only for the morning, Bea and I stayed in the cave at home, but got the full update when mother returned. It was a quiet stay except that she had to remove a bloody lump from an old man Greyhound named Zephyr. I overheard her telling father, that the dog just lied there while she put in a local and removed the lump. I don't know what a local is but I definitely wouldn't lie there while mother put one in me!

Today was back to our barkingly busy clinic. Mother said that all of the pets that are usually sick after Thanksgiving and Christmas decided to show up today instead. Everyone was bringing up the kibbles. A little Yorkie named Peter was sick from staying in a kennel over the holiday, and an old lady dog named Rikki acted like the room wouldn't stop moving and kept drooling, falling over and getting sick. Mother also treated a long haired Chihuahua named Flapper who had hurt her back doing too much jumping over the holiday and now her back leg wasn't lifting anymore, only dragging. Cash and Sugar were cats that mother said “had too much stress” over the weekend and now were sneezing, sneezing, sneezing.

Alfalfa came back in to have surgery with Dr. Quinn, surgery woman. Dr. Quinn had to remove the ball part of Alfalfa's hip so it could go back to being in the right place and not hurting anymore. Again, not so much as a yipe from the tough little Maltipoo.

It was an unexpected whirlwind of a day that went by so fast I barely even realized how much time had passed. And that's big for a dog, to us even a few minutes feels like an eternity. Yep, it's good to be back!