Saturday, May 21, 2016

The Haunted Sliding Cabinet Drawer

What appears to be a lump of fur lying on the top cabinets beneath a ten-foot ceiling is actually a very mysterious cat who somehow manages to leap onto the kitchen counter, then the top of the refrigerator, then the top counter where he hangs his tail over the edge and flips it back and forth, taunting the many dogs in this house. 

I first noticed Chewy the Chihuahua staring at the kitchen cabinet drawers shortly after we moved into the house. He wasn't barking or growling. He was staring, as if he was confused, or perhaps even frightened. We were new to the house, and I have read that animals are very perceptive to paranormal activity. The children suggested that perhaps there was a ghost in the kitchen. Then I saw the drawer slowly slide open then close again and I began to wonder...

I tried to push the drawers closed, but they seemed to be pushing against something soft. Chewy was even more confused. He checked the floor for clues. We were both at a loss, and it was very late, so I decided to go to bed. 

Later that night I walked upstairs for a bottle of water and noticed Chewy was still guarding the drawer. I finally convinced him to come to bed and as we left the room I heard the drawer slam. I glanced around the corner and noticed to drawer was completely open now, but the room was empty. 

I decided it was time for a stakeout. I left the dog in the basement and crept up the stairs. I discovered my daughter's monster cat, Samson, also standing near the drawer. I wasn't sure if he was searching for clues or involved in the mystery. I decided to stand quietly in the doorway, camera in hand, and watch to see what happened next. 

Samson heard the click of the camera and my cover was blown. However, I did notice he was standing suspiciously close to the drawer. I ducked around the corner and crept through the hall to another doorway.

I could only assume that Samson was also searching for clues to the mystery of the sliding drawer. Considering his massive size, I didn't expect that he would be capable of finding anything in or behind the drawer. 

Was he still searching? I couldn't tell! I will say this--I was NOT expecting to see him climb into the drawer! How could this massive 25 pound cat  possibly fit the front half of that body in such a small space? I was stunned...but Samson had even more surprises in store, or, um, drawer!

Samson started nudging at the top drawer, then sliding into the bottom drawer, working on both drawers at the same time to create space--this is one clever cat!

So, he was in the drawer. Or, partially in the drawer. Could he possibly stuff that huge bottom into the drawer?

He was trying! He seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. He didn't hesitate, he knew where to place his paws, when to move the top drawer out, when to push it in. I still don't know how the drawer above him works with this trick, but it does seem to be necessary for him to move the second drawer while sliding his body into the first. 

He did it! I almost wanted to clap, but I still couldn't figure out why the empty drawer would slide in and out! I had to figure this out. It was after midnight and I'd already wasted two hours watching this sneaky creature. There wasn't a chance that I would go to bed before figuring out the mystery.

And like the snap of my fingers, the drawer was empty. I didn't even see it happen. One second I was staring at his huge bottom stuffed in the drawer, the next he had completely disappeared...and the bottom drawer was slowly sliding in and out. I pushed it in, he pushed it back out. 

So, part of the mystery was solved--this gigantic feline somehow manages to climb behind the drawer and taunt the other animals by pushing the drawer in and out. I still don't know how he gets back out of the drawer, or even why he does this, but anyone who is owned by a cat knows that there is no explanation for their behavior. 

However, I did show the pictures to Chewy and explained to him that the kitchen is not haunted. When I told him he was being tricked by a cat, well, let's just say he was not amused...

In memory of Samson. You will always be a part of our family and your playful soul will always be a part of my treasured memories. May you rest in peace. 

Monday, March 7, 2016

Baby, Buddy, Animal Packs, Love, and Evan Almighty

Baby. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

When I lived in New Mexico I drove Buddy and Holly (my two chocolate labs) and my chihuahua, Chewy, out into the New Mexico desert so they could run free. There was a reason why we went to the desert, which I will explain in a moment. One day I kept seeing this image in my mind, the word "dog." I don't pretend to be a psychic. I have no idea why I saw this word, but I had run-ins with coyotes recently and my first thought was that this was a warning that my dogs were in danger.

When I pulled up to our usual spot the image in my mind was so strong that I panicked. I apologized to my dogs and started to turn the truck around. That's when Baby crawled out from beneath a sage brush. He was covered in sage. His ribs were showing, and he could barely stand.

I left the other dogs in the truck, grabbed their water dish and a water bottle and walked over to Baby. I poured water into the dish. He looked up at me as if he was afraid I was going to hit him, then he slowly approached the dish and began to drink. 


Baby dancing for his food. When he was young, Baby used to stand on his back leg and dance for at least five minutes before calming down and eating his food. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

There is a city ordinance in the town where I lived in New Mexico and people cannot have lawns due to constant drought, so they often take their dogs into the desert for walks. We watched out for each other, keeping our animals in separate territories, picking up strays and returning them to their owners. Another dog walker came by and asked if Baby belonged to me. He said he was watching from a nearby hill as Baby approached me and he wasn't sure if Baby was an abandoned animal because he appeared to be familiar with me. Abandonment is another problem in New Mexico. Most towns kill animals after two days in the shelter, but it is also against the law to surrender your pet. When pet owners decide for some reason to abandon their animals--this happens often when the economy goes down and people can't afford to feed their pets--they often take them out to the desert and leave them to the coyotes. 

The other dog walker told me he saw Baby the day before and was fairly certain Baby was abandoned. He thought, perhaps, Baby belonged to me and was separated from me. Of course he could see that Baby didn't know me, so we spent the next four hours together trying to find a way to help Baby. We stood in the desert debating our options. No one likes to make decisions about strays in New Mexico. There are so many illogical laws when it comes to animals. For instance, if a dog even looks at you in a strange way you have the right to shoot it in self defense. Compassion, caring, and random acts of kindness toward animals are all discouraged in New Mexico.

We decided to call the Humane Society and find out if Baby was reported missing, and if he wasn't, then one of us would take him home and try to find his owner to avoid having him killed. (By the way, I discussed this policy in depth with employees at the local humane society once and they disagree with it completely. They said it is heartbreaking for them to collect animals because they know that most of them will be dead within a few days, and the employees will be the ones doing the killing. Most humane society employees in New Mexico are actively fighting for more "humane" treatment of animals in shelters). 

Baby the day I found him in the New Mexico desert. So beautiful. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

The man in the desert tried to convince Baby to jump into the back of his truck and Baby refused. I had a spare collar and leash in my truck that I slipped around Baby and the man drove slowly to the road where the desert meets the city roads with his arm out the window leading Baby along as Baby ran beside his car. We finally reached the road where we were told to wait and we waited until 11 p.m. for the humane society to show up and take him. They never arrived. 

We called again. We had asked on the phone if they would check Baby's ear for a tag and explained that we planned to take him home until his owner was found. They said they were still coming, believe it or not, but they never showed up. I think they were hoping we would just take him home.

I finally opened the door to grab my phone and check in with my husband again and when I did Baby jumped into my truck and sat down on the back seat between Buddy and Holly, my chocolate labs. Buddy looked down at Baby and Baby looked up at him and I knew they would be instant friends, and they were to the day Buddy died. 

Holly and Buddy. Photo by D.S. Dollman.


So, this is where Buddy enters this story. Baby saw Buddy as his protector. Every animal in the house considered Buddy their protector. All of the animals considered Buddy their protector. When he got into trouble, Baby would actually run for Buddy and try to hide behind him. 

I took Baby home that night and he climbed onto the dog beds. He slept between the chocolate labs. 

Buddy, Baby, and Holly. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

I went to my room and turned on the television confident that the dogs would be just fine until I found Baby's owner. Needless to say, I never did find his owner. He is still my fella. 

Evan Almighty

That night, Evan Almighty was on television. If you haven't seen the film, at the beginning, Morgan Freeman plays God and convinces Steve Carell, who plays a Congressman Evan Baxter, to build an ark. At the start of the show, Carrel moves his family into a new home and a stray dog walks onto the lawn and my thoughts moved to Baby sleeping in the living room. What would I do if I couldn't find his owner? I already had the two labs that we rescued from a farmer who had nearly a dozen in the back of a hot pickup truck, and a chihuahua that someone abandoned on our property in Texas. I don't rescue animals, they track me down! I was one animal away from my limit, and I walked each animal every day, paid the vet bills, licensing, vaccinations--it wouldn't be easy!  

Still watching the movie, Steve Carrel tells his children repeatedly to ignore the dog and refuses to even offer the dog a drink. Finally, Freeman, or God, appears and convinces Carrel that he is truly God and that Carrel must build an ark. Carrel refuses. Finally, God makes his point to Evan, then he pours water into a dish for the stray dog and the dog begins to drink.

I left the room to check on the animals. They were huddled up as if they'd spent years together. I stood and watched them for awhile. They were so comfortable together. Baby acted as if he hadn't slept for weeks, which may be true. 

Dog pile. Buddy, Holly and Baby snuggling up for the night. Photo by D.S. Dollman. 

The veterinarian told me later he was amazed that Baby survived the coyotes in the desert. I asked the vet why Baby insisted on relieving himself on my scented herbs. It didn't make sense--his stomach and the inside of his thighs were scratched and bleeding. The vet said Baby used the scented herbs, like sage brush, while he was abandoned in the desert to hide his scent from the coyotes.

A Bowl of Water as an Act of Random Kindness

I returned to the movie. I was in the living room much longer than I thought. The film was almost over. Toward the end of the film, God prepares to say goodbye to Evan, and of course he leaves Evan with a message. The entire conversation suddenly became a metaphor for my situation. 

God: How do we change the world?

Evan Baxter: One single act of random kindness at a time.

God: [spoken while writing A-R-K on ground with a stick] One Act, of, Random, Kindness.

At that moment, I knew Baby was mine for life. With a bowl of water and a simple act of random kindness I changed his world forever and he changed ours. He is sleeping at my feet now with Holly. They sleep together every night, cuddled up tight the way Buddy and Holly used to sleep as puppies. Holly lost her brother, and gained a friend.

Still too Painful to Explain, but I'll try... 

I am experiencing extreme, organized harassment, or what is also called "gang stalking" in my neighborhood. They will not win. Tyrants always lose. However, they have turned violent. The night Buddy died my granddaughter came home and a group of young men were parked in front of my house barking and shouting "How's your dog?" I wasn't sure what they meant, but my granddaughter was nervous so we checked all the animals. 

A few hours later, Buddy became sick. I was unable to convince a vet to come in to the emergency clinic to see him until around four in the morning. When she finally said she would see him my granddaughter and I ran to Buddy's side and held him in my arms. He had crawled onto his bed and finally fallen asleep, but I knew he was dying. All of the other animals, even the cat, stood around him, pacing, whining. I whispered his name and Buddy raised his head, looked into my eyes with so much love--17 years of love--and he said goodbye with a loud sigh, then died. 

There is so much more to this story, but it's stuck like a ball in my throat...

The "pack" waiting at the door for Dad. They were all surrounding Buddy when he died. 
Photo by D.S. Dollman.

The chihuahua howled and jumped on Buddy's chest. Holly lay down beside him and wrapped her paws around Buddy's, the cat curled up against his back, but Baby was in a panic, frantically butting Buddy on the head, trying to wake him up, crying, crying real tears. 

Buddy died in his bed surrounded by his family. He was the gentlest, kindest animal I have ever known. He lived a good life and for many years, but no animal deserves to die at the hands of sick, abusive bullies.

Buddy a few days before his death. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Veterinarians will claim that dogs do not cry real tears. They will also admit that they learn they are wrong about one assumption or another every day. Dogs cry real tears. My dogs cried that night.

The Mental Illness of Bullies

Sadly, the person who poisoned Buddy will never shed a tear. People who kill animals are psychopathic or sociopathic. They are mentally ill and studies conducted at the University of Chicago have shown their brains are wired differently. They feel pleasure when others feel pain. I pity them. They will never know compassion or love and the people who pretend to be their friends do so out of fear--they know this person has already murdered a living creature. They know he is capable of doing anything to harm others.

Big-Nosed Kate, the Leader of the Bunny Pack

A few weeks later my rabbit, Katie, was also poisoned--and there is your proof of psychological illness in bullies. How can a bunny harm anyone? The dogs alerted me to her death by howling and scratching at my legs. She was paralyzed and there was a green, gooey substance in her cage. All of the animals adored Big-Nose Kate. She was the bunny version of Buddy. My rabbits, dogs and cat all get along and spend warm summer afternoons together in my yard.  I had moved the rabbits inside when I became aware that a neighbor was watching me through the slats in my fence. There was a mysterious fire in the garage and I took the rabbits in to the vet to make certain they were okay. The vet of course ran a series of very expensive tests, so we know she was fine when I took her home that night. All night long we heard banging sounds on the walls and doors of the garage--typical gang-stalking behavior. Katie died the next morning. 

Katie, my Flemish Giant, was also poisoned according to the vet. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Recovering From the Loss of a Friend

Baby has recovered from the loss of his protector and taken on a new role in the pack. Now he sleeps snuggled up with Holly and Chewy every night. He still wiggles for his food, but he's grown a bit too big to do the Baby dance. I know he misses Buddy. We all do. 

Baby sunbathing. I know Baby misses Buddy, but he'll be okay. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

But Buddy would have wanted Baby, his sister, Chewy, the cat, me--everyone to feel safe and happy, and every day Baby finds some way to show me that he is, indeed, a happy dog. And it all started with one act of random kindness--a bowl of water offered on a hot summer day in the New Mexico desert. 

Baby always finds some way to let me know he is a happy boy. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

"The indifference, callousness and contempt that so many people exhibit toward animals is evil first because it results in great suffering in animals, and second because it results in an incalculably great impoverishment of the human spirit." --Ashley Montagu

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Chihuahuas in Winter

Chewy the Chihuahua in his cool-weather sweater. Photo by D.S. Dollman. 

Chihuahuas are one of the oldest and smallest dog breeds known to man. They are believed to have originated in Mexico and are named after the State of Chihuahua in Mexico. Even when they are born and raised in northern parts of the world, chihuahuas still require special care during the cold. 

Chewy the chihuahua participating in his favorite pastime--sleeping. Note the size of his paws--they are dangerously small. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Keeping in mind that their paws are the size of bird feet, it's important to keep those tiny chihuahua paws warm and dry. If you live in a cold weather state, try to find little booties for your chihuahua. You may need to search for these online--to be honest, I've never found them in a store. 

Chewy the Chihuahua in his "Born to be Bad" hoodie. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Chewy the Chihuahua spent most of his life in Texas and the desert of New Mexico, but now that he lives in Colorado he always wears a sweater or jacket and is carried outside when he needs to go. If possible, he is placed on a dry or cleared spot for just a minute so he can get the job done, then carried back inside and wrapped in a blanket until he is warm again. 

Sweaters and jackets, like the one Chewy the Chihuahua is wearing in the above photo, are very important, even when the weather is slightly cold. It doesn't matter if the chihuahua is only outside for a short period of time. Even a few minutes in the snow and ice is too much for a chihuahua. It is much easier to find sweaters and jackets for chihuahuas than it is to find booties, but if you know of a source for small dog boots or shoes, please share the information in the comments section. 

Chewy the Chihuahua in his Pink Cadillac. Photo by D.S. Dollman. 

When walking your chihuahua during the winter season, you can also wrap him or her in a dog blanket as shown above. If you already own a chihuahua, you know they can be a bit stubborn. For instance, although Chewy the Chihuahua is sporting his favorite blue leash, he has refused for six years now to learn how to walk by my side. When I try to walk him on a leash he falls onto his back and makes pitiful howling sounds, drawing a huge crowd of neighbors who stare at the poor creature as if he is being abused. So, Chewy takes his walks in my granddaughter's old pink stroller, and in the wintertime he "walks" with a sweater or jacket and double blankets. 

Chewy the Chihuahua tucked in for his afternoon nap. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

If you keep your house at a temperature lower than the recommended 68 degrees your dog will burrow beneath the blankets. You may want to consider providing your chihuahua with his or her own blankets if you're uncomfortable having a mouth full of dog hair. 

Chewy the Chihuahua in his favorite blanket, which I purchased in Cancun, Mexico. Although it is doubtful that Chewy ever vacationed in Cancun, he does prefer this blanket. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Chewy prefers the warm, heavy blankets from Mexico--his country of origin--as shown above, but if there's a warm blanket available he will burrow all the way to the foot of the bed, regardless of where it was made.

Chewy the chihuahua burrowing. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Chewy the Chihuahua demonstrating the Chewito. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

In the above photos, Chewy the Chihuahua demonstrates what is known as "burrowing," or in my family, what is know as creating a Chewy Burrito, or Chewito. Burrowing is part of their nature. They were bred to burrow and kill rodents. 

Chewy wrapped in a matching yellow sheet ensemble. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

It is pretty much impossible to keep chihuahuas off the bed unless they are kenneled, and they do train to kennel quite easily. I prefer to use my chihuahua as a foot warmer, but he does have a habit of stealing my warm spot on the bed--as shown above--as soon as I stand up. 

Keep in mind that there are other odd habits that may develop from allowing your chihuahua on the bed. Chewy will only eat at night, after I have gone to bed, and he will only eat on my bed--gross as that sounds, I think this is because the larger dogs in my house tend to eat his share of the food. I've tried feeding him on the floor, but he is not the Alpha animal in our pack and will he walk away from his food to allow my female chocolate lab, Holly, to eat it instead (I think he has a crush, but that's another story). 

When Chewy does eat, he picks one kibble out at a time out of the bowl and drops it on the bed. Then he attacks the kibble; sometimes growls at it and scratches at it until it starts to roll on the comforter, then chases it or jumps on the bed so it pops up in the air so he can attack it again. If he loses that one kibble during the process, in spite of the fact that there's still 20 more kibbles waiting patiently to play in his bowl, he will desperately search the bed; or the floor; or nudge me out of the way to search beneath my pillow or dodge the slap of the cat and nudge the cat out of the way to search beneath the cat until he finds that one precious missing kibble. There's a lesson in there somewhere about gratitude.

Chewy showing his smile of gratitude. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

This is one grateful dog. As a child, when I refused to eat my liver and onions my mother often reminded me of the starving people in foreign countries. One of the interesting aspects of rescuing an animal is you don't know anything about its past, but it is highly probable that Chewy's mother was equally conscientious about the hungry pups wandering the streets of this world--Chewy knows the value of those tiny pieces of kibble!

Chewy the Chihuahua napping. Again. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Once the chihuahua learns he or she is allowed on the bed you may find it difficult to get the dog back off the bed. They are territorial animals and they love to sleep. In spite of his small size, and my king size bed, I often wake up in the middle of the night to find Chewy comfortably ensconced on my pillow while I am clinging to the mattress with my fingernails so I don't fall on the floor. 

Chewy the Chihuahua responding to a polite request to move over. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Of course, you could politely request more bed space from the chihuahua, but don't expect an immediate response. As I said before, they do love to sleep. 

Chewy the Chihuahua still contemplating the request to move over. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

No matter how much your chihuahua may love you--and I'm certain he or she loves you deeply--when it comes to getting out of bed, especially during cold weather, they are rarely responsive. Chewy the Chihuahua has been known to spend the entire day and night in bed when it is snowing or when the harsh spring winds blow, and he must be lifted and carried outside at appropriate times. 

Chewy the Chihuahua responding to a third request to get out of bed. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

Depending on how cold it is outside, as the pet of a chihuahua one must always be prepared for the response shown in the photo above when repeated requests are made to move from the bed during cold weather. Sometimes it's best to let sleeping dogs lie. 

Monday, November 16, 2015


Buddy, the most compassionate animal I've ever known. 

It has taken me forever to write this, and I still don't know what to say. 

Two months ago I started working on a very long post about Buddy, the most compassionate animal I've ever known. Three weeks ago, around bedtime, Buddy started acting strange. 

I Googled his symptoms and the only posts that came up, time after time, were poisoning. I called the vet and the vet tech agreed that he most likely was poisoned--accidentally or intentionally--but without the poison there was no way to test him and find out how it happened or how to help him. The vet tech repeatedly told me--every hour until 4:20 a.m.--that she did not want to wake up the vet, and that Buddy would most likely vomit the toxin and "he will be just find in the morning" due to his large size. Finally, at 4:02 a.m. another vet tech told me that there would be little they could do for him, that he would most likely be fine in the morning, that "everyone likes to think of their animals as family, Honey," which naturally rubbed me the wrong way as I am a educated, intelligent grandmother who was watching my best friend die in my granddaughter's arms, then he told me that if I insisted I "could" bring Buddy in, but it would be up to the vet whether or not she would do anything to help him. 

Twenty minutes later he fell asleep, sighed deeply, then died. He was in his bed, at home, surrounded by his pack who all ran to his side. His sister licked his face and cried. The chihuahua nudged his back. Baby, the desert dog, head-butted him, trying to wake him up. 

This is all I can say for now. Buddy remains in my heart, and right now, everything I have to say about him is twisted in a tight ball of pain in my throat. I am working on his story, which I will share at a later date when I can bear the pain. 

Buddy's sister, Holly, is still fighting off cancer after two years, which is fantastic for a 17 year old dog, and the pack is comforting each other in their loss. 

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Small Blessings

Layla Lou, the queen of my bunny herd, has a broken leg, but she's fat and sassy and happy as can be hanging out with the rest of the bunny family. (Yes, a group of bunnies is called a herd!) 

Chewy the chihuahua loves posing for pictures...when he's not barking at squirrels, neighbors, the neighbor's dogs, fire engines...

I'm in Loveland now. It's been a long three months with many trials and tests of faith, but I'm learning who my true friends are and who to turn to in my family when I need help the most, and that's an important lesson. 

I've also learned there is great value in having a house full of little creatures. While it may be true that they're a lot of work, and they certainly can do damage sometimes, they greet me each day with unconditional love and what I believe is a deep-felt compassion. 

Skipper is the trouble maker in my bunny herd. His adorable looks are deceiving! He likes to make me chase him around the yard. I know he enjoys the chase because he occasionally pauses to leap into the air and smack his two hind legs together, which is rather comical to watch. This is his "Who, me?" expression, which is the one he uses the most. 

Each day I find myself growing closer to these animals who share my home. They have unique personalities, but they are all so loving toward me and each other. 

Late in the evening when the sun begins to set is now my favorite part of the day because the animals become more active and I love to spend this time sitting in the backyard watching them at play. For some people this may seem like a waste of time, but those of us who are spiritual find tremendous joy in small blessings such as time to sit and watch the world around us. Watching my animals at play is a peaceful way to end the day and it gives me the opportunity to remind myself of how truly grateful I am to have these blessed little creatures in my life. 

Buddy and Holly cuddling on the floor after Holly's cancer surgery. It may be difficult to see, but Holly is actually smiling. She is happy to be home with her brother and always smiles when she's around him. Dogs often smile, and it's such a loving expression. 

I've recently found myself researching the topic of animals and emotions (which I will discuss in my next post) even though I know in my heart that they do feel emotions, and that no amount of scientific research can ever truly determine the depth of their emotions or the many ways they express emotions because we speak a different language. It's like the age-old argument over translations of the books of the Bible and which books were included and why and how we'll never really know because we live in different times and even if we do believe we know how to interpret the languages of long ago these interpretations can never be exact. 

I choose to believe that whatever we are missing in translations of ancient writings are actually far more profound than we could ever imagine, and believe the same about the emotions of animals--they feel, think, and express themselves in ways that if we were ever able to discover the exact truth of what they are feeling and saying we would be stunned and amazed. 

When Baby puts his head down like this it may appear to someone who doesn't know him as if he is depressed, but this is actually how he lies down when he is feeling sleepy and content. In fact, after I took this photo I walked up to scratch behind his ears and he flipped over onto his back and started rolling on his bed, then held still with his paws in the air--his signal that he wants a belly rub.

I've also spent much more time with my rabbits. I deliberately rearranged my home so this could happen--I've always believed it is senseless and somewhat mean to have pets in your home if you don't intend to spend time with them. So, I moved the rabbit hutches into a shed in my backyard so it would be easier to clean their living spaces and so they could play outside then jump back into their cages if they feel uncomfortable for any reason. I also had them each spayed and neutered so they could play together without fighting and the result is amazing.

Find the bunny!  

The only problem animal is the smallest animal, my grandson's rabbit, Black Bat. He is the father of the two bunnies pictured below. He is a Netherland Dwarf and absolutely adorable. He is smart and easily trained and the grandchildren love to set him in the middle of a line of stuffed animals because he holds very still and it's difficult to tell which animal is the live one. Unfortunately, his two sons, Skippy (the white rabbit) and Hoppy (the black and white) attack him whenever he is outside. I still put him outside, but I remove one of the cages from the top of the hutches and keep him enclosed so his sons cannot get to him. They are shockingly aggressive toward him and I wish I could figure out why because it's so much fun to watch the rabbits run and play in the yard, but poor little Black Bat has to sit and watch, too, from his enclosure.

Brothers Skippy (white) and Hoppy (black and white) spend most of their day together or with their mother, Layla Lou. They enjoy lying around in the grass and when the sun begins to set they will return to the rabbit barn and jump into their own cages. However, if I am running errands and try to put them in their hutches early, they make me run around the yard for at least half an hour chasing them down. I call them my personal trainers. 

Pet care can be expensive. I have three animals over 16 years old--my cat, Niblet, and the chocolate lab twins, Buddy and Holly. My pets cost me nearly three thousand dollars in vet bills this year, mainly because I have two with cancer, one with severe arthritis, and I had all five rabbits spayed and neutered at the same time. However, I recently found a vet in Loveland, Colorado called Twin Peaks Veterinary Clinic that has an insurance plan. When I added up the cost of the required one year agreement I realized it was less than the cost of the last vet appointment for only one of my dogs. I have decided to insure the three oldest dogs because I know they will require the most care over the next few years, but I am grateful to have found the clinic and the vets who work there because they not only will save me a tremendous amount of money, they are also kind, compassionate, and honest when it comes to making decisions about my pets. I highly recommend pet insurance. When I discussed the options with the receptionist she told me they had many clients who were forced to deny procedures or tests, etc., for their animals because they couldn't afford them, but the insurance plan makes a huge difference. 

This is Big Nose Kate (You may recognize the name if you read my Wild West History blog--Big Nose Kate was a famous prostitute in the Old West!) Holly is standing behind her. I'm not sure why, but Holly has decided Big Nose Kate is a fun companion and the two spend a surprising amount of time together. When she is inside, Holly cuddles with her brother, Buddy, but in the daytime she prefers to spend her time in the yard with Kate, following her around or just lying in the grass watching the other rabbits play. Kate is a very large rabbit, larger than Chewy the chihuahua, and I think Holly was originally intrigued by Kate's size and unique appearance, but Holly has slowed down a bit due to her cancer, and Kate moves slower than the other rabbits, too, so perhaps they enjoy spending time together because they both like to lie around in the shady section of the lawn where the grass is cool and soft and they can relax away from the more active animals. 

Animals are small blessings that leave big paw prints on the heart, but those who care for animals and understand that our pets are part of the family are blessings, as well. 

(All photos were taken by Darla Sue Dollman and are the property of Darla Sue Dollman. Do not use without permission. Thank you.) 

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

There's Always a Rainbow

Bumble Bees on Sunflower.

It's been a difficult year. I lost three family members, two who were just starting out in their loving marriage, and the grieving process was painful. Feeling a deep connection with nature and the cycle of life and death did help, but in this case the losses were so close together and so severe that all I could do was hold onto my grandchildren and animals and remind myself daily to breathe. Just breathe. 

I believe this is an Oriole. Photographed by D.S. Dollman near Carter Lake, Colorado. 

I loved living at the lake. My grandchildren and I spent many hours at the lake. We took my two chocolate labs to the dock and they would jump into the freezing water, swim to shore, then jump in again. I was certain they would grow tired of shivering, but they loved the water play and considering they are now 16 years old it really was amazing to watch. 

Buddy and Holly are 16 years old now and Holly is battling cancer, but they still play and love like little puppies. 

The Colorado mountains are filled with wildlife, lovely creatures that leave you breathless, and when they finally tired of leaping into the water and allowed me to wrap them in warm towels, the dogs would join us watching the birds sitting on fence posts and the fish leaping from the lake and the small herd of deer that roams among the yards and gardens and in the park. 

Deer photobomb. Photo taken by Darla Sue Dollman near Carter Lake, Colorado.

Eventually, I moved into town so I could live closer to my family. It is a small house, but a cozy fit for cuddling with the grandchildren, four dogs, five rabbits and my cat. 

Chewy the Chihuahua tries to take a selfie while cuddling with me on the couch. Photo by Darla Sue Dollman taken in Loveland, Colorado.

However, I still carried that dream in my heart, the dream of paying it forward to the community to all those people who helped me when I was a single mother by raising goats for goats' milk and chickens for fresh eggs and growing vegetables and herbs to donate to needy families. The yard is small so I decided to work with raised gardens and experiment with vertical gardening. Within a week of moving into the house I planted the seedlings I started up in the mountains, then someone poured an egg and cheese mixture on my plants and the children's playhouse and I had to throw everything away and sterilize the wood. It was yet another blow in a long, painful year. However, as the saying goes, when life gives you lemons make lemonade. I filled the gardens with rabbit droppings and planted sunflowers, which are now 12 or more feet high. I have never in my life seen sunflowers so high and they tower over the six foot fence staring across the neighborhood like guards for my garden. 

Sunflowers tower over my house in Loveland.

In my heart, there is always hope. Sometimes life is so hard that I have to search and search to find that speck of hope, but it is always there. I began to think I would never be able to fulfill my dream of starting a garden and raising animals to help needy families. I tried fund-raising options and they were useless--I was told people prefer to donate to money-making businesses, not charities. Times have changed, but I haven't. I kept praying, seeking an answer for my dream...and it has come. I now have a small farm in a nearby town and will move within the week. It has fruit trees and raised gardens and is fenced and cross fenced for animals. It has a brick barn with electricity and a space where I can build an American Ninja workout gym for the grandchildren. Once again I received help from an unexpected source, and I will show my gratitude by growing food and raising animals and helping others. There is always a rainbow after the rain. 

Rainbow near Carter Lake, Colorado. Photo by Darla Sue Dollman.