The Dog Lady Blog

Britt woke me up...

Britt is my friend in Louisville; she's a police officer working third shift. I asked her Sunday evening, via Facebook (I'm such a late starter with all stuff tech), if she would wake me in time to get Henry to the airport for his flight to Denver at 5:45 am. We saved Henry from the executioner's at animal control! Now in Black Hawk, Colorado, Henry is acclimating well.
Thanks to Hallie B. for being the facilitator between me and Henry's new people. They're called "Watch Canyon" on Facebook. Let's follow them as they post Henry's new life in Colorado. It's already begun!

What I wouldn't give to be adopted by some wonderful people in Colorado
and feel safe, loved and free from persecution...anyway, at 3:45 am Henry and I got into my truck where his "traveling crate" contained food and water, his health and vaccinations certificate, one toy, one of my tshirts, a blankie and as we headed to the airport with so much love and goodwill, I felt like I was going to burst.

Henry behaved so beautifully this morning; everyone who saw him stopped to admire him, telling him how handsome and well mannered he was. When the airline clerk put on her latex glove and examined Henry out of his cage, he was warmly responsive and accessible. They even checked his crate for contraband. They said he couldn't have a toy but I slipped it to him anyway. Everyone grinned.

But before all that, of Henry checking in with Continental, he and I stopped along the west runway and watched the UPS jets take off, one after another, lined up like little toys, absorbing their sound, vibration, and that solid intensity of flying in an aluminum shell really fast and really high up. Where Henry would be in T-minus 60 minutes...

After last week's judicial debacle (yet again), I knew in order to keep Henry safe, I had to get him out of this town within the (irrational and animal injurious) seven days allotted to me to get my canine population down to only four dogs. I was thrown a Styron-esque stone "Sophie forced by the Nazis to choose between her children" right in my face. The dogs I'm keeping now are in need of my kind of help. No one else would take them and that's a terrible feeling, no matter your species. People like those at New Albany animal control will kill this kind of animal, the ones I will die fighting to protect. These government agencies get paid a salary to do their "work". Not me; I get paid in good karma. I HATE money. It makes people weird, mean, confused and even dangerous.

Thus Henry's flight to Colorado.

Watch Canyon, Henry's new Facebook page, and I pulled this rescue together within 24 hours, this getting Henry somewhere safe. I feel so good about the fact that I can take every round of abuse these county agencies (animal control and the health department) throw at me and turn it into something positive for my animals.

Since his arrival just moments ago, I'm already getting rave reviews from Colorado about Henry:

"He's sheer perfection!", they cried.

"I know", I said.

I also learned from his new family that Henry didn't soil his crate with icky emesis, diarrhea or tinkle. Such a perfect dog.

Valerie, on the other hand, is still a bit reticent at her foster home. She's just not sure what to think without me to point a finger for her. But let's give her a little time to adapt under John and Mary Kemple's benevolent care. Please spread the word about Valerie and all my dogs listed on my Petfinder page. Whether to be fostered or forevered, Oso, Donny, Amy and Valerie are my immediate concerns for whom to find forever homes.

In the meantime, I took Valerie, Amy and Oso today to their respective foster homes this morning. Oso has already figured out that sitting on the top of the sofa in the haunted mansion of his lovely foster mother, Mrs. K., allows him an incredible view of the Mighty Ohio, way far away from the mean spirited types I'm faced with here. Amy, too, is in Mrs. K's home and she loves the "ghost chair" in the bay window for quiet meditation. Mrs. K
says that Amy ultimately climbs into one of the custom made, over sized red leather chairs where she naps unbridled.

News from the Little Dog Front: Mother "had to get Norman, Josie and FDR [Franklin] groomed!". She called them "scruffy". She says that Norman was mad at her when she picked them up from the groomer but once they got home, he succumbed to her charms--with some dried chicken doggy jerky sweetening the rapprochement. This be funny. I never had children yet mother still has to be a Grandmama for my kids...

...Gotcha, Mommy!


Back to the sordid stuff:

Animal control came out today to quantify the judge's wife edict that I only have "only four" dogs living with me. Ergo, Normie, FDR and Josie's sojourn at my Mother's home.

Animal control was intentionally 90 minutes LATE. They were supposed to be here at 3:00 pm. They finally showed their faces at 4:30pm. No call, no shame. Thinking to themselves, "we dodged the media!".

WLKY-TV 32 was here at 2:50 pm, waitingwith me for animal control to show. And waiting. And waiting. Steve Tellier was the reporter. He's smart. He knew that animal control was intentionally throwing a wrench in TV 32's ability to tell the true story of this full on assault of me and my dogs by animal control. No way the reporter can meet his deadline for the 5 o'clock news...sneaky, corrupt, desperately evasive actions.

But that's today...there's always tomorrow.

And did I tell you that while "inspecting" my four dogs, animal control asked where Norman and Company were. As if.

"At my mother's", I replied.

"I didn't think you'd get rid of THEM...", they mumbled.

"I don't "get rid" of dogs. I find HOMES for them.", I stated.

THEREIN LIES THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WHAT I DO AND WHAT THEY DO.

I am the antithesis of New Albany's animal control kill facility and the unhealthy Floyd County health department.

It's in my genes.

Thank you, Mommy. Thank you, Dad.