FETCH!

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Thanks,
The volunteers at FCRR

Things continue at their usual bewildering pace here at Chaos Manor. The Special K's, Kona and Kiowa, have gone to their permanent homes. Their replacements, for the moment, are Cary Grant and Dutchess. Cary, bless his playful little heart, is going to his new home tomorrow.

Speaking of which, we visited his new home, with Kona in tow, a couple of days ago. We turned them loose in the spacious backyard and sat back to enjoy the spectacle of two young, energetic dogs tearing around in frenetic play. Kona, whose name means "Finder of Tennis Balls" in an obscure Amerind language known only to scholars, promptly found a tennis ball no one knew was there. Almost as promptly, she dropped it in the swimming pool.

She overbalanced in trying to retrieve it and fell in. Judging by her thrashing, I'd guess it was her very first swim. Carolyn, Cary's adopter and I tried to guide her to a step so she'd be able to get out, but she'd veer off at the last moment. To our amazement, Cary took the matter in hand, taking a flying leap into the water, then actually guiding Kona to the step and safety. Wow! A doggie lifesaver.

Cary continued to demonstrate his swimming prowess, repeatedly leaping into the water and making a number of laps. This was clearly not this boy's first time in a pool.



Dutchess is a very special girl in a number of ways. Firstly, she's an incredibly sweet girl, and doesn't let a thing cloud her bright, happy disposition. On the minus side of the ledger, she's got a number of health problems, all of which may be treatable. She's got diabetes, blindness due to cataracts, a couple of partially torn ligaments, and a blown spinal disc. We're looking at a pretty big investment in returning her to health.

If you've wondered why we can't live within the income afforded by our adoption fees, that ought to lay the subject to rest. We rely heavily on charitable donations to take care of exceptional health problems like Dutchess has. You can help us in this regard. Please consider making a tax-free contribution to aid us in taking care of our special needs dogs. Go to our homepage and click the "Donate" link in the menu bar.

The critical resources that are always in short supply with any rescue are money and foster space. If you'd like to help us in our lifesaving mission, tax-exempt contributions are always welcome. We try to make it easy to give; in fact, your contribution is only a few mouse clicks away. Just go to our website, click "Donate" on the menu bar, then click the "Online Donation" button on the page that pops up. We honor all major credit cards.

I don't mean to thump the same old tub over and over, but our average expense per dog always exceeds the $200 adoption fee by a goodly margin. Take Kona, for example. She's had three tail surgeries (the last one successful, thank goodness), so we've now got well over $1,000 invested in her, even with the very substantial discount our vet gives us on rescue dogs.

Although money's undeniably important, there's no help you can give us that's more valuable than fostering a dog. I won't kid you: it's not an easy job, but it's hugely fulfilling. Though it's always hard to hand over your foster dog to an adopter, you'll feel a sudden surge of pride when you see those snapshots of the happy dog with his or her happy new family.

There's never any shortage of wonderful Labs to rescue, but our ability to do so is limited by the number of foster families we have. It's terribly discouraging to pass up sweet, adoptable Labs in shelters, knowing the fate that likely awaits them.

Meanwhile, back here at Chaos Manor, we've turned Kiowa over to another foster family to make room for Cary Grant, yet another chocolate. He's another well-matched playmate for Kona, so she probably doesn't miss Kiowa overmuch. We took them to the vet yesterday to get Kona's stitches removed and get Cary checked out. They played in the exam room while we waited for Dr. Cassidy, making them a big hit with all the vet techs.

Well, time to go. I can hear my own boy Tristam moaning with impatience because he wants me to accompany him on the last potty run of the night-- he knows his old softy of a dad will give him a treat. How the heck do we get started on these silly rituals anyway?

Just when you thought you were safe, Lab Haiku strikes again!

Lab Gourmet (à la Thurber)

a silly little dog treat,
but I think you'll admire
its presumption.


The Ball

please throw it once more.
I won't ask you again until
you need reminding.


My Bowl

my bounteous bowl!
many treasures it has contained.
how come it’s empty?


Cat

stupid, stupid cat!
I just wanted to play a bit.
boy, does my nose hurt!


Lab Perfume

ooh, what’s that I smell?
horse, cow—doesn’t matter a bit
I’m ready to roll!


My Mom

gosh, I love my mom.
a real peach, especially
when I want to eat.


Tug

tug-o-war—tug, tug.
I’m gonna win by golly. can
we try that again?

Things seem to go in cycles, don't they? Recent events certainly appear to support that contention. For quite a while, we felt as though we were rescuing nothing but yellow Labs, Brendan and Cruiser being notable chocolate and black exceptions, respectively. Then we had a sprinkling of blacks, but now it's as though we're viewing the world through chocolate-colored glasses. Suddenly we've got Kona and Kiowa in foster, and Cary Grant in boarding, the latter waiting for a foster home to open up.

We've got the "K" gang here at Chaos Manor, throwing us into an even greater state of chaos than usual. The primary reason is that Kona came to us with a tail injury and we were forced to have a couple of inches of it amputated (rest assured it's still plenty long). The biggest challenge this poses is simply keeping the bandage on her. If it's not on securely, her swiftly wagging tail (I'm surprised it doesn't "crack" like a whip) disdainfully flips the wrapping off. If it's secure, she does her best to take it off.

We've had two or three episodes where she's gotten it off, and, proud of her accomplishment, she wags her tail furiously, spraying blood everywhere. Do you know how many places everywhere includes? A lot. As anyone who's dealt with a Lab having a bleeding ear or tail knows, just about every square inch of surface in the room winds up with blood on it. Cleaning up is a real treat. I certainly hope CSI never gets on our case, they'd find blood evidence aplenty.

Fortunately, the folks at Country Hills Clinic have the bandaging technique down a bit better than the first two vets who saw her, so her dressing has lasted a couple of days. Kona still managed to get to it today, in spite of an XXL Elizabethan collar (a big white cone), so we've resorted to a Bite-Not collar, a sort of whiplash collar for dogs. That seems to have limited her flexibility enough.

If it's not one thing, it's another. Rescue never lulls you to sleep.

Gosh, time has flown! We haven’t made a blog entry since April! Shame on us— we’ll do better, I promise.

Where to start with catching up? Let’s see—we ran booths in April at the Labrador Club of Southern California Specialty event at Featherly Park and at the Buena Park Petsmart adoption event on consecutive weekends. Though we placed no dogs at them, it was great fun to meet old friends, see some beautiful Labs put through their paces, and continue to familiarize the public with us and our mission.

Back at Chaos Manor (the term I’ve unabashedly stolen from author Jerry Pournelle, because it describes the Mittell household so accurately), we’re missing Daisy, whose allergies have responded so well to treatment that we were able to place her with a wonderful couple in Torrance, Bob and Kitty. Kitty is an RN, so Daisy’s allergy shots are pretty routine for her. We’re happy for Daisy, but her ebullient presence is missed.

But then nature abhors a vacuum they say, so Daisy’s place has been taken by two mixes, Pearl and Dougal. Pearl is a sweetly assertive black girl. She gently solicits human attention, but takes no guff from our resident foursome. She’s mixed with something a bit lower to the ground than a Lab, having uncharacteristically short legs. No matter; she’s got that wonderful Lab temperament. There are three things to look for in a dog—temperament, temperament, and temperament.

Dougal is a sweet but active black one-year-old boy. He wasn’t so active when we took him in though, as he had a bad case of pneumonia. He’s finally gotten through that and now runs and jumps with abandon, squeaking his favorite dog toy while doing so. We haven’t had a young’n in a while, so it’s a delight to see his utter devotion to fun and toys. And kissing— boy, does he like to kiss!

Well, the hour grows late, and there’s a bunch of dogs impatiently awaiting their bedtime snacks, so I’ll sign off for now.

Larry

Well, I won't say that the event was a staggering success, but it was pretty darn good. It was at the South Redondo Beach Petco. The weather was outstanding, something I wouldn't normally complain about, but it was evident that people were going to the beach in preference to the pet store, so it was a little bit slow.

We did meet a sprinkling of folks interested in adopting and one interested in volunteering, as well as one who donated a huge crate. It also gave us a chance to test drive our logo clothing and all our props.At first I thought that being indoors was a good deal, but a brand-new rescue group, Remember Me, was outside, near the door, and I think that got them a little more foot traffic than we got. Remember Me has a very praiseworthy mission, by the way. They rescue dogs on their last day before euthanasia, so I don't feel at all bad that they outdrew us by a little.

The photo shows our setup, along with Lori, Daisy, and yours truly. Our current dog of the month, Pearl, is hidden behind the table.

I keep forgetting to post a note about Daisy and her blog. It's up, and it's here.
She's also blissfully free of her cone collar.

Sharp-eyed visitors will note that we've got a new logo displayed on our webpages, one that's more in keeping with our "fetching" theme. This logo was designed for us by the noted artist Terry Albert. Be sure to visit her website by clicking here.

FCRR has received an IRS ruling deeming it a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, public benefit corporation, retroactive to November 1, 2005. This means, among other things, that donations from all our past and future contributors should be fully deductible for federal tax purposes. We advise that you consult with your tax professional to be sure that this applies to your particular tax situation.

As if you hadn't had enough, the Lab muse inspired me anew.


Love

how do I love thee?
let me count my soft squeaky toys
and get back to you.


A Kiss

I'm kissing your face
to express my deep affection.
just what are dog germs?


Big Stick

my favorite stick,
so big I can't bring it inside.
dog doors are stupid.


Art

very few art forms
surpass the sublime perfection
of a real good nap.

Daisy, the petite yellow girl who had horrible allergies (see our Sick Bay page), is back in her foster home after her spaying. Although the allergy situation is vastly improved, better health meant she could be spayed. She's now stumbling around the house with an oversized conical e-collar attached to her, knocking over virtually everything in her path, poor thing. Poor us, for that matter.

Carolyn hopes to get a Daisy blog up in the next day or two, so everyone can get Daisy's full story. We'll add a link to it on our home page when it's ready.

For those interested, Daisy won't be available for adoption until her spay sutures are removed, probably two or three weeks hence.

Just for fun, here's some Haiku written from the Lab point of view:


My Ball

I chew and slime my ball
before I drop it in your lap.
a clean one's no fun.


The Big Water Bowl

a dog knows better
than to do the things you do to
the big white water bowl.


The Car Ride

a ride! a car ride!
I can never thank you enough.
I know-- give me a treat!


My Toy

my beautiful toy
is now in a thousand pieces.
I didn't mean it.


The Mailman

bark! bark! bark! bark! bark!
go away, new mailman; the old
one brought me treats!


The Caress

you express your love
with a scream when I caress your
bare leg with my nose.


Anatomy 101

everyone knows
why humans have two arms with hands--
I've two ears to rub.


My Kong

my beautiful Kong,
a wonderful thing to behold--
with cookies in it.

It's with great difficulty I write this, but Fargo's story bears repeating: it's a microcosm of all that's entailed in dog rescue. It's a story of pathos and joy; triumph and loss.

One fine day in August, 1998, Janet, a fellow Southern California Retriever Rescue volunteer, and her husband appeared on our doorstep with our new foster dog, Fargo. He was a tall, lanky, Lincolnesque, field-bred Labrador, probably purebred, but you never know in this business.