Bone Collectors

Since our home is surrounded by the woods, we have an abundance of wildlife existing near us. 

White tailed deer. 

Raccoons. 

Oppossum. 

Mink. 

Fox. 

Coyotes. 

Brown squirrels. 

And with each mammal that traverses through our woodland backyard, death comes. 

And my kids always seem to find the remains. 

Well, sometimes my husband and I find them and yell out "Oh my gosh, I just found an awesome skull!"

And the kids coming running to collect the find. 

We have quite a stockpile. 

Most of the bones are kept outside. 

But a few small ones are in the house. 

Some rodent-like skull resides in my dining room next to a humongous deer antler. 

And something's hips. 

So weird. 

The garage has a wire basket full of bones. 

My friend from high school, Julie, has two boys who are just as in love with bones as my two girls are. 

We have given them specimens from our collection in the past. 

You would have thought we had given them a new iPad from the excitement that came from them when they took their skulls home. 

We have teeth...

The random tibia and femur. 

This one kind of looks human. 

Let's hope it ain't. 

I tell you though, I'll take bones any day over a rotting carcass. 

We had to endure the stench of a dead deer a few years ago. 

It was in the woods to the right of our driveway and we had to pass the smell everyday when we went to get the mail. 

And then the damn dogs decided to bring the rotting head to us one HOT summer day when we were splashing in the pool. 

The stink and the screams are embedded into my senses and brain for an eternity. 

Thanks dogs. 

Bad Dog!

In the past week this dog 

has eaten the following...

-A dead minnow 

-An entire container of hermit crab food

-Grass growing behind the garage

-The last Krispy Kreme doughnut that was a chocolate sprinkled beauty (BAD DOG!)

-A sketch pad 

-Deer poo

-Cat barf

And very little dog food. 

It just doesn't taste as good as all of this other stuff, I guess!

The Fate Of Lucy Moon

I used to work within the world of animals.

I was a veterinary technician or "an animal nurse."

For almost 15 years. 

With 13 of those being in the city of Chicago. 

I've seen a lot. 

Dogs that have been shot. 

Dogs that have been starved. 

Dogs covered in maggots. 

Dogs left by the side of the road to die because they were fought and they lost. 

I worked at a clinic that had a pit bull rescue within it's doors. 

I met my husband at this clinic. 

He and I both know the atrocities these dogs have faced when in the hands of dog fighters. 

We have a good understanding of the breed. 

They are loyal to people, but can be unreliable if not trained properly after being in the hellish world of dog fighting. 

We aren't ignorant by any means about pit bulls and the stereotypes and injustices that have been thrown at them.

I truly believe that all dogs are good. 

People make them what they are.  

Purebred dogs can have more of a genetic misfire to behave erratically, but I think they can be fine with the right owner. 

This is my lead up to the one dog who entered our lives that we couldn't help. 

I think the year was 2011. 

I don't remember the season...late summer?  Fall?

My daughter was in the throes of cancer treatment AND had a broken ankle. 

What I do remember is this...

My parents were over and we were eating KFC. 

When lunch was almost over my mom declared "oh, I saw a dog tied up at the fence on Mt Gilead Road when I was bringing over the chicken."

Ugh. 

Don't say that to me. 

We decided to go have a looksee. 

I was hoping it was gone or a figment of my mother's imagination. 

It was neither. 

There sitting, and not at all tied up, was a young, white pit bull. 

Small and horribly frightened.

I approached carefully and noticed two things. 

One, female unaltered. 

Two, scars on her face. 

Double ugh. 

I went back home and put our dog crate in the back of our minivan along with some KFC. 

Back to the pup who hadn't moved an inch, she readily ate the chicken. 

I put a leash on her and then wrapped it around her muzzle. 

Then, I could lift her into the dog crate.

We kept her in our barn after contacting several people who wouldn't take her. 

The Humane Society had no room. 

Animal Control would probably have put her down. 

Another shelter had no room. 

A local self-appointed "pitbull expert" had no room for her at her home. 

I put her on a pit bull rescue webpage. 

What I did get was zero interest in her and a certificate from the Humane Society to get her spayed for free. 

By this point she was not growling at my husband anymore. 

If you took care of her, she loved you. 

She loved our girls. 

She was the best kisser and lavished us all with her slobbery tongue at various times during the day. 

She was good at the vet office. 

Too scared to leave her cage after surgery so her "family" had to get her. 

She bounded to my children. 

But she attacked Lola twice in the yard.

A total unprovoked fight both times. 

We eventually let her into the house. 

She enjoyed her dog kennel. 

And the couch. 

We got her a collar and a dog tag with her new name. 

Zoe and Gigi named her Lucy Moon. 

Because she was white like the midnight moon. 

Then she attacked one of our kittens as they stood together next to our stove.

Totally unprovoked. 

The cat had cuts on his head from her teeth as she tried to eat his head. 

But the kicker came when she tried to eat my mother. 

The lady who saw her on the side of the road. 

The lady who had bought the chicken. 

Lucy Moon would growl at my father if he had my children in his lap. 

She would just stare at him and growl. 

And one afternoon, as my mother left the room, she lunged at her and tried to bite her foot, only getting her hard leather shoe. 

I was constantly on edge with this dog. 

She adored our family of four, but she couldn't be trusted 100%. 

We didn't know her history. 

We didn't have the time to devote to rehabilitating her. 

If our daughter had to be hospitalized, which at that time in our lives could happen at any moment, who would feed this dog?

She wanted to eat my parents. 

I had tried finding another place for her. 

My oldest daughter was gravely ill and I had a 3 year old. 

I had run out of options and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if she hurt one of my children. 

So, I took her to our vet to be euthanized. 

I have NEVER had to kill an animal that I couldn't help. 

But, as I tearfully told my wonderful veterinarian, I couldn't help this dog.

If I were 15 years younger, single or it was just Chad and I, and I didn't have a child with cancer, the situation would have been a lot different. 

I didn't know what else to do. 

She was a good dog who needed someone's time. 

And I currently didn't have time to give. 

As I said before, my veterinarian is wonderful!

She said "hang on a minute" and left the room. 

Upon her return she said they would keep her and try to find a home for her. 

Zoe had written a note with pictures of hearts to Lucy Moon saying we loved her.

I left her collar on her, but took her name tag off. 

The veterinarian took her to the back room, along with her note and said she would call me. 

My girls were told that the vet found her a new home. 

They were sad, but happy that she hadn't died. 

A few weeks later I had a message on my voicemail from our vet office. 

One of the shelters who had told me NO had told them YES. 

They would take her and try to find her a home. 

Wonderful!!

Last year my cousin fostered two puppies (that she now owns!) from the shelter that had taken Lucy Moon.

I was with her one day as we made oogly eyes at the puppies and other dogs at the shelter. 

I asked the lady behind the desk if she knew about Lucy Moon. 

She was cold and looked at me as if I were a very, very bad person. 

I say this only from my vast experience with shelter and "animal people" who seem to always mistrust humans when it comes to rescue/shelter work. 

She didn't believe that I had found Lucy Moon and that I had tried to work with her. 

She thought I was another asshole who had gotten a dog that I couldn't handle. 

I could see it written all over her face. 

She told me that they had worked with Lucy Moon.  

Trained her and that she had been adopted. 

Yes!

But that she had bitten a child and had been euthanized. 

I have no idea if this is the truth. 

To this day, my children believe she's alive and happy.  

I believe if my life had been at a different stage I would still have Lucy Moon.

She was sweet, but troubled. 

She didn't trust everyone. 

She had been pushed around her entire life. 

She never knew true, forever love from a human, but I hope she knew we did love her.

And it still breaks my heart and brings genuine tears to my eyes that I couldn't help her. 

Sometimes when we are out and about and see a dog that resembles her, my daughters will say "that looks like Lucy Moon!"  

And I smile and agree. 

Part 3 in a series titled "Pets" I'll be doing. 

To Love A Dog...

Either you're an animal person or you're not. 

You either don't mind the extra work a pet takes or you do. 

The extra finances, not just the extra time out of your day. 

It's a yes or no question. 

And I'm a yes. 

In fact, I can honestly say, I like animals more than people. 

My husband calls me Dr. Doolittle. 

The animals and I can just communicate really well. 

I don't recall having some "it" moment as a child that made fur and paws a must for me. 

I've always had a pet in my life. 

I was that kid who wanted to pet or pick up anything fuzzy.

My own children are the same way. 

Especially Gigi. 

I wanted to take care of every creature I came across. 

I would occasionally find a stray dog and put it in my family's garage only to find out later it lived two blocks over. 

My parents always had a dog when I was growing up. 

The dog we had the longest was a peekapoo named Puggy. 

She was 10 pounds of black moppy fur and by far, the dumbest dog that ever lived. 

But, she would let me dress her up and put barrettes in her hair. 

Our family got her as a puppy when I was 3 and she lived until I was 20 and in college. 

My parents buried her in their backyard after my mom and brother and I took her to the vet to be put to sleep. 

And we always had a cat. 

Bonkers was around the longest. 

A great looking black and white guy who disappeared a few weeks after his friend Puggy died. 

I always just figured he went looking for her. 

I had cats in college. 

First Jack. 

He hated me. 

Then I got him a friend. 

Molly. 

She loved me. 

When I moved to Chicago I had Jack and Molly and then decided to get a puppy. 

Madison he was named. 

My roommate Bill and I raised him. 

Madison met many future boyfriends of mine. 

And ultimately clicked best with the man who would become my husband. 

Madison was essentially my first child. 

He went everywhere with me. 

Work.

Vacation. 

Starbucks. 

The beach. 

Parties. 

He had play dates with dog friends, mostly Elwood and Petey. 

He was the most obedient dog I've ever seen. 

If I walked with him to the store, I could leave him unleashed outside of the 7-Eleven and he would calmly sit there and wait for me to return. 

Sometimes he would walk to the door and stare in, wondering what was taking me so long. 

But if someone walked around him and opened the door, he would just quietly move over, let them enter, then go back to looking in the door. 

I always said he was a little boy who dressed in dog clothes. 

If we had lived in Paris he could have ridden the subway with me.

He only got to do that once, though.

In Chicago where he was raised. 

He took a ride on the El.  

He was then small enough to fit into a carrier. 

He was the greatest. 

dog. 

ever. 

End of story. 

Not really. 

He was also Zoe's first friend.

And they were best friends.

He was with her when she got sick. 

But at that point in his life, he was having his own struggle to stay alive. 

We watched him go downhill as we tried to keep our daughter on an uphill path. 

His back legs stopped working. 

We had to take him to the emergency vet. 

This was a doctor we hadn't seen before and he saw the struggle we were going through with our elderly dog and his best friend who had cancer. 

"No charge" he said. 

I'll never forget that. 

Madison only lasted a few more weeks. 

We came home from a doctor appointment with our weak and chemo-filled 6 year old daughter and he couldn't hang on anymore. 

He couldn't get up. 

He had had an accident in the house and had fallen in it. 

He tried to bite me when I went to help him. 

He was in pain. 

We had to say goodbye. 

We had tried and tried to keep him alive. 

Because Zoe needed him alive. 

But even she knew it was time to let him go. 

Her first best friend. 

Our family's best friend. 

My first child. 

I wrapped him in his blanket that he had had since he was a pup. 

Zoe walked up to him before he left our home one last time. 

He licked her face when she said her final  goodbye. 

He was with me for 15 1/2 years. 

And I miss him every single day. 

Part 1 in a series titled "Pets" I'll be doing. 

The Tree Killer

Hi. 

My name is Willie. 

I'm two years old. 

I have a problem. 

A very big problem. 

A real choker of an issue...

I eat trees... 

My owners have had to put chicken wire around some of my victims. 

Others are tougher and I love to leave my mark on them as I run through the yard. 

I just get excited. 

I see a squirrel.

I eat a tree. 

I see Lola running. 

I eat a tree.

Someone calls my name. 

I eat a, guess what?

Yes!

A tree!

This is my favorite tree to eat. 

The bark is super tasty and not as choke-inducing as some of the others. 

Now don't get me wrong, I choke on bark fragments after I eat this one, too. 

But still, it's my fav. 

And I just know my family loves hearing me gag and hack when I get bits of bark stuck in my throat. 

And then there's my friend Lola. 

She has a problem, too. 

She prefers eating the wheels on the wagon. 

Pulling it around by her teeth. 

She also goes after lawn mower, wheelbarrow, and car tires. 

She's my hero...

Dogs and Cats and Kids

Tuesday on the farm. 

Lola and Willie play with an old cloth doll in the yard. 

They thrash it around and snack themselves in the face with it. 

I don't buy too many dog toys for them anymore. 

They destroy everything very quickly. 

It seems like such a waste of money. 

So we recycle old toys the kids don't use anymore. 

Willie's favorite thing?

Plastic gallon milk jugs...

Sometimes Lola goes with me when I run errands. 

Willie is afraid to ride in the car. 

Lola likes to sit up front and wait for my return when I go into a store. 

Wednesday we went to the grocery store.

Thursday. 

A selfie of me and my other half. 

Geesh, our noses look huge. 

Gigi usually picks out her own clothes. 

She is allowed to wear whatever she wants as long as it's clean, has no holes or rips, and is weather appropriate. 

Friday's ensemble was a hum-dinger.  

Saturday. 

Yoga cat. 

Yoga kids.

Dogs, A Party, My Boots

Monday was warm. 

Without wind. 

It was like springtime. 

But I wasn't to be fooled. 

I knew it wouldn't last. 

So, I got the dogs out to play with their mini jolly balls that they got for Christmas.

Jolly ball is the name of a hard rubber ball that is found at your local rural farm supply store. 

It has a handle and is supposed to conquer boredom in horses. 

The pony has a large jolly ball, but is scared of it. 

Just as she was with the jolly ball she used to have. 

We gave her first jolly ball to Lola who proceeded to tear the thing apart in no time. 

These jolly balls are supposed to be super-dog tough. 

My dogs have super-super tough teeth, though. 

Zoe turns 9 in February. 

She's having an art party. 

She loves her some art. 

She always says she's going to grow up to be an artist/designer/Egyptologist. 

I made her party invitations on Tuesday. 

I had been to Lowe's where I snagged free paint sample papers. 

Two of each color scheme. 

I also found colored staples at, where else, Staples. 

So, I took the color coordinated paint samples and stapled them together. 

Colors on front and back, ya see. 

Then I printed out the information for the party on clear labels. 

Peeled and applied as so (the RSVP information is on the back of each card)

and threw them in the mailbox this morning. 

I hope her school friends can make it.

I always get party anxiety when the RSVP deadline approaches and I haven't heard a "nay" or "yay" from the guests' parents. 

Here's a self portrait. 

Kind of. 

I'm always on winter afternoon barn duty during the week. 

I go out around noon and give the animals hay and check the water bucket. It's a heated bucket so we don't have to worry about the drinking water freezing. 

And here's an interesting tidbit for you...when it's colder out the pony and goats drink more. 

So, here I am lugging an empty water bucket back to the house.

It will be filled up later at the house and taken back to the barn. 

I'm on evening/dinner barn duty as well today because Chad has to work late.

In the mid to late spring and summer months we don't feed them hay in the afternoon. 

Or at all really. 

They forage on the pasture grasses. 

Dog Vs Girls

Some days it's a dog-eat-girl world...

I think the girls won this battle. 

Our Year End Recap

It's the last day of 2012.
It's been quite a year for our family.
An end to chemotherapy for our now 7 year old.
Something I thought I would never have to say, yet couldn't wait to say!
We are hoping 2013 is full of nothing but good news for her.
Good news and good health.
And now, a pictorial review of our latest year that's just about behind us...

We celebrated our daughters turning another year older... 

We partook in holiday fun...

We went out of town to visit exciting new places and to also see familiar faces...

Little Rock

NASA

Galveston, Texas

state fair



Closer to home, Zoe represented Camp COCO at the Midwest Charity Horse Show and had a great week on Lake Bloomington with her fellow campers...

We heard two piano recitals...

Zoe participated in horse riding and standing lessons...

We decorated a tree in Central Park with our family for childhood cancer awareness...  

Gigi went to school for the first time...

And Zoe got eyeglasses...

We rounded up about 40 of our closest friends and family.

Friends who came from near and as far away as Texas and Omaha.

We gathered to walk for a cure.

To unite for hope and hugs.  

To remember Jake, who left us far too soon.

We battled on through the intense heat and drought of the summer by cannonballing into our pool and canoodling with our pets, including our newest addition Willie...

Zoe encountered fewer hospital stays in 2012, but they still existed for her. 

She was able to be "normal" though as she played softball and danced.



Zoe with her friend Zoe



We are hoping that the new year brings us much joy, more travel, more time with friends, and a new found happiness of childhood for Zoe.

Thanks for reading and Happy New Year!