1-26-08

It was the most beautiful little bird I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen a juvenile owl before, and certainly not up close. It was moving, but it was pretty feeble, and the fact that one pupil was dilated and the other wasn’t a good sign, along with the fact that its head was cocked to one side. We put it in the carrier and put the carrier in the back of the car and headed off to the groomer to pick up the dog – and I’m going to call him “Buddy” from here on out, because it seems weird to keep calling him “the dog.” We fully expected that the owl would be dead before we got home, but when we got to the groomer we checked on it, and it was still breathing. Buddy was definitely cleaner, and his nails looked a thousand times better, and he had a jaunty little bandanna tied around his neck. “I’m sorry they did that to you,” I whispered to Buddy as we put him in the car. “I didn’t tell them to bandanna you up, I promise!” We stopped to pick up some takeout barbecue on the way home, and while Fred was inside the restaurant, Buddy tried to climb into the front seat, though he backed off when I told him no. He seemed a little agitated, and when Fred came back to the car, I suggested that he take the dog out to pee. The dog peed (but didn’t poop, for which we were grateful, because neither of us was looking forward to the idea of having to pick it up) and then happily climbed back into the car, sniffed around, and then curled up and went to sleep ’til we got home. To our surprise, the owl was still alive when we got home. We got everything inside, put the dog in the bathroom with food, and put the carrier with the owl in it in my bedroom closet and shut the door. We figured being warm and in the dark would be better for the owl than being in a brightly-lit area with cats peering at it constantly. We ate dinner, then let the dog out to explore the house. He walked around, sniffing everything, and freaking the cats out. He got too close to Mister Boogers (he wasn’t sniffing Mister Boogers, just happened to be in the general vicinity), who responded by hissing and boxing Buddy’s ears. Buddy responded by going immediately flat and riding it out. I yelled at Mister Boogers, who gave me a look and then ran off. A little while later, Maxi decided that Buddy needed a good smacking, and went after him. He rode that out, but it startled me, and I yelled at Maxi, who ran off. In and amongst all the excitement, Fred talked to a local wildlife rehabber, told her what was up with the owl, and made plans to meet up with her as soon as possible. We figured if the owl could be saved, she’d know it, and if it couldn’t, she would have a way to put it down humanely. I was in the middle of kitty Snackin’ Time (after the smacking from Maxu, Buddy had decided it was time for a nap, went upstairs, and got on his bed, so we shut the door so no cats would harass him) when the rehabber called to let us know she was on her way. I finished giving the cats their snacks, and we headed to meet her. She looked the owl over and said that in her opinion, it wouldn’t recover and she would put it down. We talked to her for a few more minutes (she told us how she’d one rehabbed a hawk, and I could see the jealousy rising from Fred’s brain like a cloud of smoke) and then went home. Once home, we settled down to watch TV, and I started feeling horrible. It appears that something I’d eaten – I suspect the coleslaw, since it has sugar in it, but it could have been the potato salad – was disagreeing with me, in a big way. For the next hour I proceeded to dump (note for the uninformed: this explains what dumping is). It was the worst case of dumping I’ve ever had – I was gagging and retching about every five minutes, but after the first time there was just nothing in my stomach to throw up. You know when you’re nauseous and you know nothing will make you feel better than to throw up? That’s how I felt, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Finally, in desperation, I started looking through the bottles of prescription medication and then I found a bottle of phenergan. I wasn’t sure if I should take one, I dithered about it, we went out for a walk around the back forty, but not much past the back yard the nausea ramped up and so we came back into the house so I could kneel over the toilet for a while longer. Finally, I Googled “RNY phenergan”, found that it was okay to take, and took one. Ten minutes later, the nausea was gone. We went to bed and talked, and by the time twenty minutes since I’d taken the pill had passed, I was starting to feel high, so Fred kissed me and went to bed. I ended up sleeping in ’til almost 9, and I feel kind of fuzzy-headed, but fine. I look like I got hit by a mack truck, though. Thanks to all the hanging over the toilet and retching and gagging, a shitload of blood vessels in and around my eyes burst (it’ll go away in a few days). The bruise kind of adds to the overall effect, no? Today, Buddy is even more interested in the world around him. Fred’s taken him for a couple of walks around the back forty, and he’s peeing and pooping like nobody’s business (the dog, too. Har har!). Fred gave him deworming medication last night, and this morning his poop was loaded with dead hookworms (Fred reported this to me – I didn’t see it myself, and I’m happy about that). Monday morning I’m going to call and make an appointment with a vet – hopefully the good one I take Miz Poo to, but at this point I really just want him to be seen, checked over for heart worm and tapeworms, and to get all his shots. At this point, no one with a couple hour drive has said that they want the dog. If no one does in the next few days, it looks like he’ll be going to a guy in Wisconsin who really, really wants him. People on the message board where Fred hangs out have stepped forward to help in getting him to Wisconsin – we just need someone who can drive from either Bowling Green, KY to Indianapolis OR from Clarksville, TN into Southern/ Middle Illinois. If anyone out there is interested in making the drive, let us know. We’re hoping to make that happen next weekend. Of course, if anyone around here wants him, let me know. Honestly, between the dog and the owl, I feel like we’re being asked to pay, bigtime, into the karma bank because we’re going to be required to make a large withdrawal at some point in the future. I hope I’m wrong about that!

 

Previously 2007: Are ya feelin’ bubbly, punk? Well? Are ya? 2006: I think it would be hilarious if someone started manufacturing imitation Maui Jim sunglasses and called them “Oahu James” sunglasses. 2005: I figure they’re professionals and know what they’re doing, so I have no desire to clutter up the small amount of space left in my brain with that kind of information. 2004: I sense that there is a battle of epic proportions in my future, a show-down between Miz Poo and I as to just WHO the blanket belongs to. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: But don’t tell Miz Poo I’m admiring another cat, please… 2000: It’s a conspiracy!]]>

21 thoughts on “1-26-08”

  5. Hi Robyn,
    Just read about “Buddy” You and Fred are just the best. I sent Fred an email that we can drive “Buddy” from Bowling Green to Indy if he needs us.
    One thing that is haunting me about the dog. Do you suppose there are other animals still with that (and I use the term loosely here) man? I have a really sick feeling that Buddy was not the only one. Is there any way to find out without having a huge pile of you know what land on you? I don’t mean to make anyone feel wretched but it was the second thing I thought of after “Thank God for people like Robyn and Fred.” Thanks for helping this little guy.

  6. Man– who beat you? If my eye looked that bad I’d make plans to stay home for a couple weeks! 😉

  7. Right after Katrina I took the volunteer training at our local no-kill shelter, as I wanted to be able to foster. When I got home DH showed me a bird in our back yard who had clearly been injured. He thought one wing was broken; I suspect there was also a broken leg. (I was right!) Presumably he/she had tangled with one of the local roamin’ cats and came into our back yard as a sanctuary. We got hold of Wildlife Rescue and the next day DH took the bird to them, along with a donation to cover the cost of rehab. They said that they felt sure the bird could be rehabbed and released, which was a good feeling. DH kept calling the bird a dove. I looked up pictures and decided it was what is politely called a “rock dove”, which is polite for pigeon. Still, it was a pretty bird and certainly didn’t deserve to flap around until it either died of exhaustion or ran into another cat. Too bad you’re adorable little owl was so injured it couldn’t be rehabbed, But a large speeding truck would cause more damage than a cat, I guess. I’m glad to hear Buddy is doing so well; I’ve been thinking about him. And I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better — you need to stay healthy to deal with all the stray animals that are beating a path to your door!

  8. NASTY!!! thanks for the photo! that’s awesome. Do you walk around making zombie noises? RAAR.

  9. GOD!!!!!
    I guess that’s my punishment for being a fucking skimmer, because I wasn’t reading the dumping details too closely (I have a hair trigger gag reflex and am already queasy today to start with) so I literally jumped in my seat at that picture. Jesus!!
    And now I feel queasier than I did to start with.
    Sheesh, and I thought the blonde hair was bad.

  10. So glad you both were there for that poor owl, how sad. As for Buddy, he is such a cute (but sad) looking boy I am sure you guys will find him a good home! You are both so great when it comes to animals, I am sure your Karma is way up there!!!!

  11. You and Fred are now known as the Animal Whisperers. 🙂 I really hope the dog finds a home, he looks like a sweet little boy.

  12. The beagle I had as a kid was named Buddy. He was a stray my family took in and spoiled for 12 years, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign your Buddy has several happy years ahead of him.
    Sorry about your poor eye! That’s happened to me before, and the odd looks and questions bothered me WAY more than my eye did.

  13. Well, here in S. Florida, I’ve been hankering for Buddy, I would love him and squeeze him and name him Buddy, but my “gut” tells me he’s for the Wisconsin dude…..can I visit?? I’d love to take Buddy, even risking the “Ach, Gott” from my Terminator (Austrian, just like Arnold!!) husband, but maybe the WI dude’s the best way to go and I’m sure the rescue network will kick in, if every reader from AL to WI takes a leg of the journey, he’ll be there in no time….too bad I’m south of you, or I’d definitely volunteer. You guys are terrific in both giving chances and comfort to the animals that you encounter!

  14. Robyn,
    I kind of said the same thing on Freds site but I wanted to know what you think. Do you feel differently towards the “owner” of buddy now? I know that it cant be proven but wow.. I have to say that anyone that could look at any animal (certainly one that was such bad shape that buddy was) and not feel involuntary reaction of wanting to help it.. Is vile.
    I think the two of you are godsends to buddy, and Im glad he found you in time.

  16. There’s a special place in heaven reserved for you and Fred. And a special place in hell for all of those who mistreat animals. That eye looks awful!!! Hope it clears up for ya soon!!

  19. My gawd. Your eyes!! That must have been some serious retching :(((
    Reminds me of a young mom I met in the nursery shortly after my girls were born. Her eyes looked like yours and her face was red as a beet from pushing. Poor girl, you too!

  20. Damn, I hope you are feeling better! I’ve had an eye like that once, after I hit myself in the face with a chunk of rebar while feeding pigs (long story) My poor husband got the nastiest glares for the next 2 weeks every time we went somewhere!
    But seriously — ain’t no coleslaw or potato salad in the world worth that much pain!

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