anogete: (Default)


( May. 8th, 2009 09:22 pm)
work talk )

If you're looking for homemade treats for your doggie, then I highly recommend Tail Waggin' Temptations. I met the couple that make these treats at the Quixote Humane Easter Parade a few weeks ago and bought a small container of treats from them. Ferguson isn't much for dog bones, but he is in love with their peanut butter heart treats. I just ordered another box off their website, and it arrived a couple days later.

Glengarry Glen Ross is one of my favorite films. I'm such a fan of David Mamet's talk-y movies. Jason and I were quoting it this evening because we were watching Ed Harris in another movie. I popped on YouTube and found this:

(WARNING: Lotsa lota cursing and foul language in the clip below.)

There is so much great dialogue in this film that I could never list it all here, but one of my favorite parts is when Dave (Ed Harris' character) says, "Anybody who talks to this asshole is a fuckin' asshole." So classic. You can see it in the video above at the 1:26 mark.
Back in January/February, I made a couple posts about a little dachshund that was hanging around our office building. You can read the first entry here and the second entry here. The first entry is my angst over not being able to save him, and the second was about how we did manage to save him and place him with a rescue organization.

The abridged version is this:
A malnourished, beat-up dachshund kept appearing and disappearing at least once a week around my office building. Payroll Girl and I decided to save him, so I contacted a Dachshund rescue organization in the city and asked if they would take him in. They agreed, so the next time we saw him, we coaxed him into the office building with food. After he ate, I boxed him up and drove him to the airport to meet a woman who had driven up from a town south of Albuquerque. She took him to the vet and boarded him there until they could arrange a foster home. Janet is his foster mom now, and she's been in contact with me about him since she got him in February. They named him Blackie. He's healthy and happy and about five years old. He's actually up for adoption right now on the NM Dachshund Rescue website. Payroll Girl and I ended up pooling our money and donating $100 to the rescue for helping us save Blackie.

Anyway, Janet e-mailed me a few pictures of him because I hadn't seen him since he was placed in foster care. If I didn't already have Ferguson, I would totally adopt this little guy. He's the sweetest dog, and he loves affection.

the pictures )

Anyway, he looks so much better than he did when I first saw him rummaging around our office and trying to eat a plastic wrapper because it smelled like food.

Payroll Girl and I are going to visit him on Monday to see how he's doing and say hello.
A couple weeks ago, I posted this entry about a stray dachshund who had been seen wandering around my office building. Payroll Girl and I felt so bad for him that we managed to trap him in an used office until animal control could arrive. Fate intervened and the animal control officer couldn't make it out to pick him up. Payroll Girl let him go, though it killed her to do it. I felt like such crap that I contacted a local Dachshund rescue and begged them to take him in if I could find him again. They agreed and asked for a couple days to work out a foster home for him. This wasn't a problem because I didn't know where he was; we were just waiting for him to show up again.

The mechanic knew we were looking for him, and he called me this afternoon to tell me that the little guy was outside by the mailboxes. I hurried out and managed to lure him over to the building while Payroll Girl threw some dog food in a bowl. We coaxed him into the unused office again with the food. I gave him some water and left him in there while I called the Dachshund rescue. Janet, my contact in Albuquerque, didn't answer. I immediately felt sick. I didn't want to let him go again. He looked horrible. I could see each of his ribs protruding from his skin. I can't even explain how thin he is. I called Janet three more times, but didn't get an answer. I also e-mailed a couple other volunteers with the rescue in hopes that someone could help me today. I was even willing to stay late at the office until someone could arrive to get him. I just couldn't leave him there overnight.

At 4:00, Virginia called me back and said she would drive up from Los Lunas (30 minutes south of the Albuquerque airport) if I could meet her halfway. The airport is the halfway point between my office and her house, so it was a 25 minute drive for me, too. I immediately agreed. Anything to get our little guy into a vet and a home. He was so sweet in the car. I had to put him in a box because there was a chance he had mange. However, as long as he could smell me, he was okay. I met the woman in the cell phone waiting area of the airport. She took a look at him, then we packed him up in her car. She told me she had already notified the vet and made plans for him to be boarded there until he had a clean bill of health. She was so nice and thanked me multiple times for going out of my way to help. Really, I think I should have been thanking her for taking him in. I asked her to e-mail me and let me know about him.

So, I just checked my work e-mail, and she had already sent me a message about him.

dachshund boy )

I am so ridiculously happy about this. Seriously. I cried after I got the e-mail because I'm so relieved he is okay. I've been worried about him for over two months. It is such a weight off my chest to know that he is going to be okay and isn't terminally ill or unable to recover from his condition. And knowing that he'll be sleeping somewhere warm tonight makes me smile. It snowed earlier this week, and I worried about him all night. In a few weeks, I might contact Janet and ask if I can come visit him. If I could, I would totally adopt him. But apartment regulations and all...

This makes my week. I'm so, so, so happy. :-)
anogete: (Default)
( Jan. 23rd, 2008 10:11 pm)
I feel like utter crap.

why i cried on my way home from work )

So, now I'm totally bummed. And I shouldn't be because my grandmother just wired $1,000 into my bank account so I can buy a flat panel LCD television for Jason and I. (She says she's spending my inheritance.) We're going to buy it on Friday night, but I'm not even very excited about it anymore. I came home and cuddled Ferguson. When I put him down and told him to get his toy, he just stood there and looked at me. It's funny how dogs know when you're feeling sad and how they want to stick around you to make sure you're okay. I know I'm probably projecting, but he looked at me like he was sad too.
anogete: (Default)
( Jan. 19th, 2008 07:12 pm)
Today was productive. I went shopping at the regular grocery and the farmer's market, then took all the dogs (Jason's sister's and mom's) to the park for a walk. When I got back home, I cooked up a pot of vegetable soup for lunch next week. I managed to clean the hamsters' cage before dinner. After dinner, I let the gerbils out for playtime on the floor. Ferguson even got a bath today. He's not exactly thrilled about it.

I promised a picture of the gerbils, so here they are:

winrey and sheska )

have some random songs )
anogete: (ferg)
( Oct. 16th, 2007 03:51 pm)
Ellen Degeneres Sobs Over a Dog

This breaks my heart. I adopted Ferguson from an agency run in a similar manner. If I could not keep Ferguson, I promised to return him to the adoption agency. If I violated the contract in any way, I was required to pay the agency $1,000. This makes sense, and I understand why that is included in their adoption contract. However, poor little Iggy was obviously in a nice home and being well cared for. Why couldn't they just fine Ellen and perform a simple home visit on the family Iggy is with now, without yanking the dog out of the house with cops waiting in the wings? Ferguson severely disapproves of their course of action.
anogete: (Riddick 1)
( Sep. 29th, 2007 01:32 pm)
After breakfast, Jason and I dropped by Calibers (an indoor shooting range a few blocks from our apartment) to get a little practice in. I like Calibers so much because it is run by young people. I always feel out of place in gun shops and ranges frequented by old men who just like to hunt. Calibers doesn't have the atmosphere at all. Jason and I liked it so much, we bought a couple's membership so we can go anytime we'd like. Anyway, I kick so much ass. Seriously. At one point, I sent five rounds, one after another, into the two-inch diameter circle over the heart of my target. Burglers and muggers beware. Jason insists that I'm a better shot than him. Ha! I'm very happy with the grip extender I had put on one of my magazines. My Glock 26 has this really short grip since it is a subcompact. The extender has upped my accuracy by a significant amount.

I talked Jason into stopping by the yarn store so I could pick up a couple skeins of wool to make Ferguson a new sweater for this upcoming fall and winter.

When we got home, I whipped up a couple homemade dog treats for Ferguson.

uh, yummy? doggie treats )

The bones are tuna biscuits. They have ground oatmeal and cornmeal in them with a can of tuna. The brown patties are Alaskan Salmon cakes. Basically, it is just a can of salmon with a bit of garlic, salt, and wheat flour for texture. I feel super sorry for the two dogs that live with Jason's mom and sister. They never get treats or walks, so I'm going over there after dinner to take them for a walk at the park with Ferg. I'm also going to pack up half the treats I made this morning and leave them at their house.
anogete: (vespertine)
( Jul. 25th, 2007 08:04 am)
Yesterday, I learned that the burglary alarm in my apartment will go off if the power fails. The monitoring company called my cell at 2:45pm to tell me that the alarm had been set off. I ran home to find everything locked up tight and all the clocks blinking midnight. I suppose if a burglar tried to cut the power to my place to steal a television, then this feature would be helpful. However, I doubt this will ever occur, so it is just a nuisance.

And the worst thing? I was putting company time to good use by writing a bit on the fiction I started a couple days ago. Things were flowing well when the evil alarm company interrupted me. As for the fiction, it's coming along fairly well. I'm still dancing around, not sure what direction it is going in. I don't even have a solid plot. Maybe something will come to me after another chapter or so.

three paragraphs of the fic - spoilers for DH )

Jason's dad is coming over for dinner today. He's bringing the pizza. I was under the impression we were going to watch a video, but I don't know if Jason and I, being the weirdos that we are, have anything Jason's dad would be interested in seeing. Supposedly, Jason's sister is coming along as well, but I have my doubts. I get the feeling that she's very intimidated by Jason and I. This wouldn't be surprising, considering that we both believe her to be a worthless lump of a person. Her baby's attendance is still up-in-the-air. She may or may not come along. The dog may or may not come as well. I suspect we won't find out until they show up on our doorstep.

Gypsy, Jason's mom's dog, is still at the vet's office. Her survival is in question because she is so sick. The vet still isn't completely sure what is wrong with her, seeing as how her symptoms don't all point to one particular cause. The medical bill is climbing with each day, and Jason's mom is getting nervous about it. I'm sure it is well over a thousand bucks by now.

Meanwhile, the biggest drama from my family is the fact that my brother's can't seem to find a desk chair that won't break when they sit in it. My brothers are monstrously large--about six feet tall and at least 350 pounds. The scale ends at 350, doesn't it? I remember them telling my mother that they had made the scale go all the way around to zero again. It's not exactly something to brag about, you know? So, they're stuffing their faces and drinking soda directly out of the two-liter bottles. Rolling desk chairs with plastic legs won't hold them for more than a month before breaking. My mother thinks it's a crime that desk chairs aren't constructed better. I think it's a crime that she's not telling them to stop eating five ice cream sandwiches after dinner. My brothers think its a crime that desk chairs cost $150 at the office supply stores.
as always, spoilers )

more dog drama )


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