Things keep happenin'...

[draggonlaady]

Sale of the clinic closed on Wednesday, bank funded it on Thursday. For better or worse, it's my responsibility now. I'm sure that by the end of January, that won't seem quite so overwhelming, but right now? scaryscary. Sale of the land is still pending. When that goes through, I'll be over a million dollars in debt. Literally. How freaky is that?! Well, I'm freaked out by it, anyway. Also, I'm extremely tired of insurance applications, as the lender required that I have disability, office overhead, life, real property, and business property insurance!

Bruce has decided to give up on the commuting thing and become my house-spouse full time, effective later this coming week. I look forward to having many fewer household chores to deal with while trying to figure out how to run a business, but have to admit to being a little stressed over the decrease in income (reference above about $1M debt!).

Arctic got adopted to a local lady with 200 acres to play on. Good deal for him, I say...she wouldn't let Bruce and me move up with the dog though.

And in a totally bizarre set of events, Birthday Bear got adopted out. I'm sure you remember my posting about him earlier; he's been at my place for a while now, playing with Minnie (my one-eyed yellow pit mix).
Earlier this week, a lady (M) arrived at our clinic with a dog she was going to foster, that she had just picked up from a rescue. Knowing how slim the chances are that this particular rescue had scanned the dog for microchip on getting her in, I scanned her. And microchip she did have. So I called the associated phone number, and asked if they were missing a dog. The gentleman who answered said "A 3 legged German Shepherd? She's alive?! I thought she got eaten by a cougar!" Turns out she's been missing for about a month, and was found 30 miles from home. Have I mentioned that even out here in the middle of nowhere, microchips are useful for getting animals home?

So we contacted the rescue, and told them what was up, and kept the dog. Which left M sad, because she'd driven all the way up from PF (in a snow storm, no less!) to pick up this sad, skinny, 3 legged German Shepherd. So, about half jokingly, I offered to replace her with a different 3 legged dog. Took a couple minutes to convince M that I actually had one, and then she was quite excited about meeting him. So I sent my mom to get the dog from my house, and bring him back. It was instant love, of course--only a totally hard hearted monster could resist Bear. *Sidelong look at Bruce*-+

M took Bear home, and emailed me back that he'd gotten on instantly well with their other dog-a 1 eyed yellow pit mix!-and that her kids love him. They were going to rename him Baxter, but the 4 year old was pronouncing it "bastard" so they are going to call him Bailey Bear instead.

Now I just have Holly to place; and got an email just today that sounds fairly promising on that front, so wish me luck!

So that's the summary of my week. How are you all doing?

Comments

[draggonlaady.livejournal.com]

As of today, he does what I want :) We have been living together for a couple years now, but he's been making a 60 mile each way commute for work. Which is/was a huge reason for quitting; there's been a few days with heavy snow that the commute was 3 hours to get home.
So now he's a house-spouse, and will be doing all the routine chores around the place, and running errands and cooking me dinner :D. He'll probably also be doing some part-time work for the veterinary clinic with maintenance stuff.

I just can't believe you don't like dogs! It's freaky. :P

[fr33f0x.livejournal.com]

It's not so much that I don't like dogs, it's more that I have trouble with pets. Where I live now animals are either wild or used for labour of some sort. Dogs as guardians or to hunt I can deal with. Cats do their own thing anyway. Horses, oxen, donkeys and camels for draught animals are a clear thing, too. I don't mean to treat them badly, or anything. Decent work deserves decent treatment, and anyway, every living creature should be treated with respect. But if peeps have, like, dogs or cats for bairns, you know the type, call themselves mommy and the beasties baby, that is fucked up. I love horses. Wouldn't let them eat from my table, if you know what I mean.

Of course there's exceptions to everything. I used to know a rat, Yardımcı. Was the pet of a girl I used to travel with. At first we really didn't get along, but he sort of grew on me. Kinda got to respect that wee critter. Smart as hell and loyal like nothing. Never would have believed it.

[draggonlaady.livejournal.com]

A lot of animals are smarter and have more personality than people who don't interact with them do believe. Even snakes, with their tiny little brains, have "owner recognition" and distinct preferences for who handles and feeds them, and widely varying behavior between individuals. You wouldn't believe how much personality you can find in a goat!

You're right in that some people can be more extreme than is strictly healthy about them, though. (Ref my past rants about PeTA and ALF and their bullshit. Did you know that riding a horse is cruel enslavement worthy only of the most evil? According to those whackjobs, I've spent basically my entire life earning a ticket to Hell on the backs of poor, innocent, helpless creatures.) I don't personally cringe with people call their pets "baby" but I am not at all looking forward to the day when some court somewhere upholds "emotional damages" for loss of an animal. That'll put a whole ton of complications and shit in my life that I'd rather not deal with.

I used to have 2 pet rats, Food and SnakeBait. They didn't start as pets, obviously--the snake just never got around to eating them. They were hilarious, rode around on my shoulders and never tried to run off or showed any kind of aggression. Sadly, I've become allergic to most rodents since then, and can't keep rats anymore. :(

[fr33f0x.livejournal.com]

Well, Yardımcı certainly was capable of aggression. Bit me more than once. Fuckers got teeth. But he travelled with us halfway through Europe, and like, often enough in rather difficult circumstances, but he always got through. Once we even lost him in a trainyard. Dogs scared him off. Man, what a nightmare that was. But in the end he found us again. As I said, bloody smart little beasty, he was. M was heartbroken when he died.