Maricopa County Animal care center in Phoenix, Arizona takes in 46,000 dogs and cats a year.
Today, they have one less dog to worry about because my daughter Keely, who lives in Phoenix, just entered the rewarding and time consuming world of pet ownership.
This little guy is almost 3 years old and the reports are in, he is a very well behaved dog and already house broken. Obviously this guy had previous owners, but for whatever reason he found himself homeless.
It was his lucky day when Keely walked into his world because he is surely being spoiled rotten as we speak. Keely told me that when Luca is sleeping with her in bed, he routinely wakes her up by kissing her face. I told her he is just thanking her for rescuing him from an unknown fate. He's sleeping on her comforter for heavens sake, of course he's grateful.
Bryn, my middle daughter didn't wait long in adopting kittens after she got married. Penny, on the right was rescued at an Amish farm that had more kitties than fresh chicken eggs. Lola, on the left, was adopted from a friend of a friend.
Below is some of the handy work of my wife.
Ginger, who is about 199 years old now, is on the downswing of a very happy and comfortable life, and is paying us back now for the years of joy she gave us by barking for us every day, every minute, the second you step out of her sight. She is a sweetheart.
Take a guess where Rosy is?
A friendlier dog you will not meet and if eating a sports bra is considered normal, then she is a very normal little dog.
Huck, well other than being shot with a .22 and hobbling home on one leg like a cop in a CSI episode, he has and still leads a very good life. He has a fake elbow and sees a chiropractor on a regular basis.
I'm not making this up.
Samantha, or Sammy. She is the one on the receiving end of this public display of affection.
I know, it's a little creepy.
Tiggy. He has no physical ailments but is a bit "touched" in the head sometimes.
This is a better picture of Sammy, the only one of the group who doesn't have some kind of neurological or physical impairment. She's just perfect, sits around looking really cool.
Next is Izzy. As you can tell, Izzy was almost blind. In the picture below, I'm pretty sure he thinks that visitor eating out of his food bowl is one of the other family cats.
Izzy, a diabetic, was a recent inductee into the Finucane pet cemetery located in the back 40.
And that brings me to this thing.
The queen of the fleet,
the king of the mountain,
the most spoiled creature in the world
with a heart beat.
Of all the rescues we have had over the years, my wife claims that this one, "Kit", wanted to die. Nothing the vet recommended worked in improving Kit's very sad physical condition, so my wife spent days/weeks straddling her and shooting egg whites down her throat with a syringe. As you can see, she has been doing alright.
No, we do not let the animals in the sink
or on the stove.
And no, we don't allow the cats
to eat my stuffed shells.
Kit has a nick name
used by many in my family from time to time.
It sounds like itch but begins with a B.
So that's the short version of our story with rescues.
Coincidentally, yesterday my wife
submitted another article as a guest blogger to
The Flaming Vegan.
She wrote about animal rescue.
For her take on the subject
She's a much better writer than me.