Monday, September 29, 2008

All Is Fair In Love and War


My father was trying to hug my mom last night when the family pit bull Kane ran up between them. Every time my dad attempted to touch my mother Kane would push him away with his body and demand my mother’s attention. This reminded my dad about a former rival and he joked that Kane better not go all Wally on him or he’d meet the same fate Wally had.


All is fair in love and war they say. Once upon a time my father had a rival for my mother’s affections. His name was “Wally.” As soon as he realized Wally was competition my father went out of his way to win Wally over but Wally wasn’t having it. Wally’s antagonistic attitude towards my father ultimately led to his death.

Wally had been my mother’s pet rabbit, a gift from my father actually. He was a little itty bitty thing when mom got him and for a couple of years Wally had mom to himself. When my parents set up house together jealousy reared its’ fugly head every time my father approached my mother Wally would make a loud thumping noise with his foot as a sign of aggression towards my father. Eventually it escalated to the point where Wally would ‘box’ dad with his front limbs and bite him. I guess I should mention Wally wasn’t exactly “Thumper” sized he weighed 18 lbs and stood at 3 ft on his hind legs. Wally was a Flemish Giant Rabbit the largest of all rabbit breeds Flemish Giant’s can weight over 20 lbs . Things got so bad between them that mom would have to cage Wally while dad was home.

One morning while pregnant with yours truly mom was in the loo with a killer case of morning sickness, as mom finished paying homage to the porcelain god Wally stood by her feet watching her. Wally never strayed far from mom whenever he was loose in the apartment. My dad unaware that Wally was loose went into the bathroom to check up on mom. As soon as he entered the bathroom Wally shrieked and then launched at him. He bit my father’s ankle and my father swears to this day that the rabbit growled at him. As my dad fled the bathroom he yanked my mom outside with him and slammed the door in Wally’s face. Wally retaliated by continously slamming his body against the door and trying to escape by chewing on the bathroom door.

Mom thought it was hysterical and couldn’t stop laughing. It reminded her of the killer rabbit scene in Monty Python’s Holy Grail movie. My father was not amused. Once mom went back into the bathroom Wally calmed himself down and allowed mom to pick him up and cuddle him. Wally however had scared the pellets out of my father. It was finally decided by dad that Wally had to go. Mom refused to part with Wally and dug in her heels until my father pointed out that Wally’s possessiveness of my mother could prove to be dangerous to the baby once it was born. My father promised to find Wally a good home with a rabbit breeder friend of his. He even introduce mom to the breeder and was promised that Wally would live out his life happily with other rabbits.

Last night as my father told us the story of Wally he let it slip out that Wally had been actually slaughtered for stew several days after leaving my mom’s care. My mom was livid and refused to talk to him for the rest of the evening. This morning when he woke up for work there was a huge foam shaving cream “W” on the bathroom mirror. Something tells me that mom has declared war on the old man. I look forward to the pranks that are headed his way in the name of Wally.

Labels: mom and dad, pets

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Posted by @ 12:59 PM
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Wednesday, July 02, 2008

The Mighty Kaneosaurus

Four years ago “The Mighty Kaneosaurus” was being used as bait for training other pit bulls to fight when I came across him in Queens. His six month old body was a battlefield of scars and bite marks he even sported a stab wound near his abdomen. It took a lot of work before we were able to win the gentle giant over and earn his trust. Unfortunately we weren't able to resolve all of his issues. Especially the one revolving around his intense dislike of men and teenaged boys outside of our family. For safety reasons whenever any guy comes over to my house we put Kane in a room. He already knows the drill. All we have to say is “Go to bed Kane” and he heads to the room of his choosing. This morning he chose one of the bathrooms. He loves the cold marble floor during the summer I thought or maybe he was just plotting.


Sometime over the weekend my cable modem died a quiet death and Mr. Trevor Trebarker cable man extraordinaire came over this morning to fix my connection and replace my modem. What was so special about him you ask? He showed up on time that's what and actually knew what he was doing. 'Tis a pity he almost ended up the victim of Kane’s issues.

Mr. Trebarker had just finished installing the new modem and was standing in front of my mother’s desk about to test it. Mom was at the kitchen sink rinsing out a glass. She had just turned the tap off when she spotted Kane standing behind Mr. Trebarker. The man wasn't even aware Kane was behind him.


Kane's body tensed up and the hairs along his spine stood on end as he sniffed the cable guy's leg. Kane was rocking a doggie mohawk. The fact that he'd gotten out of the bathroom on his own perplexed both of us. The door had been firmly shut we had both checked it before letting Mr. Trebarker into our apartment. The fact that he’d manage to walk past the living room, past the dining room and into the study area without making a single solitary noise amazed us. The Mighty Kaneosaurus is not known for his stealthy manner.

Not wanting to panic the cable guy or startle Kane mom softly said, “Trevor do not move my dog is behind you." She called Kane to her but he refused to budge. His eyes were riveted on the man. “Hey there’s my good boy” she said using her baby talk voice. Kane can not resist baby talk it’s his kryptonite. While he didn’t move away from Mr. Trebarker he did jump up and down in the spot wagging his tail. He reminds me of a horse rearing back on its hind legs when he does that. “Aww is my good boy Kane happy to see me? Oh yes he is… what a good boy…how the hell did my good boy get out of the bathroom Mia?" mom continued talking in her baby talk voice this time addressing Mr. Trebarker who looked like he wanted to run, “Don’t even think about it Trevor. He gets excited when people run.” Mr. Trebarker turned his head to look at my mother. Kane growled. “Do not look at me or talk to me, keep your hands where they are other wise he will think you are a threat to me and attack you." She said as she slowly walked towards them.

When she reached Kane she patted his head. Kane immediately leaned into my mother rubbing his body against her legs without taking his eyes off of the cable guy. She rubbed his throat then slid her hand to the back of his neck petting him as she continued to talk to him. She slowly slid her fingers in between his neck and collar and began tugging him gently away from the man still chattering away at him. Then Mr. Trebarker moved and Kane tried to charge at him growling. “Kane!” my mother said in a stern voice as she yanked him back. She switched back to her baby voice and Kane’s body relaxed. “Trevor seriously what part of don’t move or he’ll attack didn’t you understand? PLEASE don’t move.” Kane continued to growl at the man, finally with some more coaxing he allowed mom to lead him into the master bedroom. His eyes were focused on Mr.Trebarker the entire time. The man was sweating despite the fact that we had the air conditioner on.

Once Kane was locked inside of her bedroom Mr. Trebarker breathed a sigh of relief. My mother apologized to him but the guy was spooked. Seriously who could blame him? He threw his stuff in his bag and hauled ass out of our apartment without even bothering to see if the modem was working.

Mom called dad at work and quickly explained to him what had happened and my father let out a loud laugh. “I knew eventually he’d get the hang of it. That’s my boy!” My mom switched on the speaker phone. Dad explained that he’d seen Kane several times over the week fit his mouth around the bedroom door knob twisting his head slightly and pulling at the same time trying to get the door opened. “And you didn’t think this was worth mentioning? Carajo, it's bad enough that I worry he’s going to give himself brain damage from ramming his head into the doors to open them from the outside now I have to worry about this too?” she asked. “He’s such a smart dog! Seriously babe how many dogs do you know that can open doors? ”

My mother sighed and looked at me “Do you hear this Mia? Do you hear what your farther is saying?” I shrugged my shoulders mildly “Well ma he does have a point. Come on he opened the door from the inside! That is so cool.” I said. She threw her hands in the air “Wonderful like father like daughter! Here I was worried that your dog would turn the cable guy into a lunchable and we’d end up a 10’0clock news story but instead of sharing my worry you praise your dog’s resourcefulness. That’s just wonderful. Maybe you two can teach him to fix cable modems because I doubt after today that guy is ever coming here again and this connection still isn’t working. ”

Labels: pets

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Friday, June 13, 2008

Cleo's Boo-Boo Part 1

Memorial Day Weekend, Friday night: It was really late and I heard my dog Cleo throwing up. It sounded as if she was hurling everything she'd ever eaten in her life. I ran to see what was wrong with her and got there just in time to see her spew up a hair ball the size of a kitten. “Holy Monkey Cleopatra-Spartacus what the hell is that?!”

I parted what little fur she had left on the area and found a raw red spot, “It’s a hot spot.” My boyfriend informed me and then added that he had noticed her chewing at the spot for several days. I gave him a dirty look and flew at him ready to punch him in the Adam’s apple only to be stopped by my father. “Well, jeez Josh thank you very much for telling me now! Why didn’t you say something before she ripped her fur out? “I thought you knew.” He replied. Yeah sure, like I’m really going to see my dog suffering and not help her. Since it was late and no pet stores were open to get her some hot spot medicine I stood up with her all night to make sure she didn’t attack the spot again.

The next morning bright and early Josh showed up with some medicine for Cleo and instructions from his uncle a former dog trainer to cover up the area with a gauze bandage to keep her from licking it. Little did we know Cleo would turn cannibal on us. She didn’t pick at the spot while I was awake but oh ho ho the mutt went to town on it while I was asleep.

I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of Cleo whimpering. My bedroom floor looked like a crime scene, there was blood every where. Blurry eyed I jumped out of bed and ran towards Cleo and picked her up. Good morning sunshine! She had chewed a hole the size of a fist right through her upper hind leg. I could see muscle, tendon and whatever else had been under the layers of her skin. There was blood running down her leg. “Oh Cleo what did you do to yourself?” I moaned. When I looked into her eyes she looked utterly miserable. I screamed.

Twenty minutes later I was sitting in the back seat of the car with Cleo in my lap her hind quarters all bandaged up while my dad drove around in search of an open veterinary clinic on Memorial Day weekend, the gods were not with us. Naturally there were all closed, at least in the Bronx. As we headed towards Manhattan I glanced down at Cleo wondering what I would do if something happened to her.

When we adopted her nine years ago she was originally supposed to have been my dad’s but from the moment we got her she attached herself to me. I hadn't even noticed her as I looked her litter mates over at the shelter. She made sure I took note by waddling up to me and licking my fingers. She placed her paws on my wrist laying her claim on me even though we’d already decided on her brother. As I held her brother in my arms she barked at me demanding that I look her and when I did she sat and wagged her tail at me her expressive face appearing to break out into a smile. There was something about her eyes that pulled me in. Judging by the crowd they were drawing I knew her brother and the others would be quickly adopted. Cleo I wasn’t too sure about. She was the runt of the litter and not as cute as her siblings. Half St. Bernard and half chow at 7 weeks old she didn’t look like much even though her St. Bernard markings were evident. It wasn’t until she was a few months old that she morphed into this beautiful dog.

From the minute we got her home she started following me around every where trying to keep up with me on her short little legs. The thing that impressed me the most about her was her intelligence. She was house broken in less than a week and it took another few days for her to learn simple commands. I named her Cleopatra–Spartacus due to my love of history. Cleopatra because of her superior intelligence and regal bearing in addition to her expressive amber colored eyes ringed in black as if she had lined them with kohl eyeliner. I added Spartacus because even though she was smaller than her siblings she was warrior like, pushing her way to the front of the kennel over their little fat wiggly bodies making sure I saw her. She's lived up to her name ever since never backing down from dogs twice her size or menacing people when she's felt I was in danger. Her name truly suits her.

My thoughts returned to the present and I cursed every veterinarian in my boro for having the chutzpah to be on closed when my doggie needed them.I reached into my pocket wishing I had an altoid or tic tac to give her to take the taste of her own flesh out of her mouth. Sensing that I was upset she attempted to sit up and lick my face. I held her head in between my hands and despite my allergies buried my face in her neck and nuzzled her. When I was done sneezing she settled back in on my lap and wagged her tail as I ran my hands up and down her body. I felt guilty for not having heard her chewing herself up over night, for not having noticed the hot spot earlier.

My dad interrupted my thoughts, “Are you okay there little one?” “I’m fine pa it’s just…this is Cleo… she’s never been sick a day in her life. What if this is something really serious? What if she…you know dies.” “Mia, she's not going to die.” “I’m taking her to Bulgaria with me when I leave for the Peace corp." “You are?” “Yeah, I told ma I’m getting my own place out there so I can have Cleo live with me. I don’t want her to go through what happened last time I was in Egypt.” “Yeah I know.”

Cleo had missed me horribly while I in Egypt, she was constantly whining by the door waiting for me to come home. Every time one of my friends came over she’d run past them looking for me only to come back and stand in front of them with a confused expression as if wondering where I was. Every night I’d call home and mom would put me on speaker phone and I’d hear Cleo barking and jumping in the back ground. After several days she picked up on the fact that if the phone rang late at night while everyone was asleep it meant that I was calling. Cleo then got into the habit of sleeping next to the phone and the minute it rang she’d start wagging her tail and barking. She had refused to eat while I was gone despite my dad force feeding her she was crack head thin when I returned home a month later. I vowed then never to leave her behind again. “You know pa ever since I came back from Egypt she’s had this separation anxiety thing going on. She even follows me into the bathroom now; she’s even tried to go into the shower with me. I don’t think she’d survive if I left her home while I lived in Bulgaria for a couple of years.” “I think you’re right on that one little one.” My dad replied. I scratched behind her ears, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to her while I was gone.” Visions of of having her stuffed like Roy Roger's horse Trigger floated through my head. I wondered if I could do that to my parents as well.

Dad dropped me off in front of the ASPCA's animal hospital while he went in search of a parking space, no easy feat in Manhattan let me tell you. Cleo didn't give me a chance to lift her out instead she jumped out quickly after me. Blood started pouring down her leg. God she was killing me. As she followed me into the hospital her bloodied bandage began to unravel and she stepped out of it stopping to look up at me and wagged her tail before she did. As I approached the reception desk several people asked about Cleo's breed and remarked on how pretty she was. She rewarded each of them with her best regal pose and a wag of her tail. When the receptionist saw Cleo she came out from behind her desk to admire her. As I explained to the receptionist my reason for being there Cleo being her typical self sat before her and held out her paw as if greeting her. I swear sometimes I feel as if the dog should be wearing a tiara. Once her paw had been accepted by the receptionist Cleo laid on her back and offered her tummy demanding a belly rub. The receptionist complied with Cleopatra-Spartacus's wish. The damn dog was acting as of nothing was wrong with her.

“We have no vets on call until Tuesday” the receptionist informed me and said she knew of no other animal hospital that was opened during the holiday weekend. My heart sank as I repeated the receptionist's words to my father outside. “We’ve got a full tank of gas, I’m off until Tuesday and your mom’s calling every vet in the yellow pages. Let’s head back home. If there’s a vet open we’ll find him.” he said as we drove off.

Labels: cleo, pets

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Posted by @ 10:58 AM
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Sunday, April 06, 2008

Belle & Company

I was looking through my external hard drive and found some favorite photos of our pets and thought I’d share.


With the exception of the Maxie the dove all of the animals were came into our home via adoption, strays, and rescues. Maxie by the way flew into my room one Autumn day and decided to spend the winter with us. Every mid-morning she’d take off and return before sunset. Then one day towards the end of spring Maxie left and never returned. She didn't go far however she set up housekeeping in a nest above my window.

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