Dogs, my Mother, then there's cats

Ah, my mother's dogs. The top dog is Cocoa. A nice little mixed dog, sold supposedly as a Sharpei, would be better in a no other dog household. She feels neglected and pouts. But she's sweet. The next one is George, also a Sharpeai, dimwitted, bad tempered, very ill, blind dog. He has to have his face and butt washed "because of his wrinkles." He has an awful type of cancer. Her dogs get this cancer and she feeds them "steroids" to keep them going and Tums for their upset stomachs and the smell emanating off the poor creatures is unbearable.

The next dog is Wiley - a little Whippet who cocks his head side to side and was the King of the house until Zoey, who I call Cleopatra because of all the Kohl around her eyes and the way she "lounges." Zoey is a handful but sweet. She's also incredibly smart - any dog that would let me train them is incredibly smart since I'm the opposite of the dog whisperer. (I have suspicions though that when we train dogs to do tricks for treats, that we are the ones that are really trained - as she would do the tricks when she wanted the treats.) She decided she was my dog while I was there. Only dog I ever let sleep with me. Awwwwwwwwwww.

These dogs are spoon fed oatmeal twice a day from my mother's own cereal bowl. They get their anal glands squeezed at the vet about once a month - they eat, cooked especially for them, chicken, and hamburger and rice. Also they get dog food three times a day, laced with chicken broth, vegetables and other additives "so they will eat." So, now you know the reason you can't tell what the black dog is, other than a black blob. The one before him looked like a barrel with a cork for a head. Wiley is starting to get a fat middle and I've NEVER heard of a fat Whippet.

They also have their own trust fund for their care after my mother's demise. I keep hoping she will not get more dogs for someone else to worry about caring for, but if one dies, she adds another. Since I am a kind-hearted (or mentally deranged) person, I would take them, but.... George - I would take for the long sleep potion, but the others I would make Florida dogs out of, but "H" just does not like animals, so that would not be good. Probably not good for me either.

Anyway, she also knows every dog within a three mile radius of her home and keeps checking them, daily, if she thinks they "aren't being taken care of" - climbing fences to take them food and water. Yeh. She's 82. I dread getting a call someday saying, your mother was mauled by three pit bulls and also broke her hip climbing into their yard - !!!! followed by a six month period of taking care of her and four to six dogs while she recuperated.

She has a dog cemetery full of them. Now the urns are accumulating. Somehow, I have managed during my last two visits to avoid going to the dog cemetery many miles outside of town to chop weeds out of the cemetery. No, not just off the dogs' graves, but out of the whole cemetery. I think she cajoled my nephew into that duty once.

I do not think she is a normal dog owner although I've heard of people going to great lengths for their dogs...and it seems to me cats get the "short shrift" in the whole deal of the cat and dog world. Few people like cats compared to dogs. I prefer cats because I'm tired of raising children. Don't get me wrong, I love kids to pieces, its just that I've been raising them since for 45 years, if you don't count trying to mother my little sister when I had no idea how to do that, prior to that 45 years. All the kids in my life are pretty much "self-care" right now, the last one is very close. I would love to have a or THAT special dog - I'm just getting selfish in my old age I guess.

Cats are cool - they clean themselves up, you pour food in their bowl, they don't gobble it up all at once - they don't eat each other's poop and then lick your mouth, they usually don't get real pushy, uh.........oh we won't talk about shredded drapes, and clawed sofa arms..........or an occasional mysterious scratch on the belly when I wake up....