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!