Just Another Saturday

The holidays are always a blur to so many people. But for me, most days are a blur. For example, this morning, my barking alarms went off before my radio alarm. I was going to have to be up early to pick up Gizmo from his overnight at the vet after his neuter yesterday, then scheduled three adoption interviews today. But after telling the dogs to let me snooze and hitting my actual alarm a few times, I realized I was cutting time close. I shoved all the big dogs out into the play yard, threw on the nearest sweatshirt covered in paw prints, my dirty tennis shoes because DaVinci still hasn't learned that ladies go first through doors, grabbed my keys and ran out the door. I completely forgot to brush my teeth, which I remembered as soon as I was greeted with a "hello" upon entering the vet's office. Luckily they keep a tin of peppermints on the counter, which I immediately grabbed and chewed. I was feeling good about it until I remembered that I hadn't brushed my hair eithere. Another Saturday morning and I'm 0 for 2.

I got Gizmo in the truck and headed home. Now, I'm a big dog person, but for whatever reason, my home has been inundated with lots of small breed yappiness, I mean happiness, recently. While Gizmo is a cute bundle of energy, he's one of those dogs that I was very excited to see get applications. So it was no surprise that before I even picked him up from the vet's office I had already scheduled his adoption. But I admit, I took a little joy watching him try to navigate through the front door with his lampshade (Elizabethan collar) around him, considering all the nights he woke me from deep, well, whatever slumber I might have been trying to steal.

So we got back to the ranch. I had to load a second crate in the car for Sonny's adoption interview, then grab a slip lead for the monstrous Teddy for his adoption interview as well. It's really sad. Teddy is such a wonderful, spirited dog, but is so overlooked because of his size and older age. But he's the only dog at the ranch that will play catch and fetch with me, so I think he's awesome.

An hour later, we were on the road, using the GPS mom and dad gave me for Christmas. I scheduled the adoptions for 1 pm, 2 pm and 3 pm. The first adoption was love at first sight. Sonny was in their arms, they signed the papers and sent me back out on the road quick than Domino's Pizza.

I typed in the address for the next interview, which turned out to be only a few streets away. I called the family to make sure they were ok with an early arrival. The wife answered and said she would be delighted to have us come sooner. I was even more thrilled than she as this was for Gizmo's new home. We arrived, got out of the truck, and I'm pretty sure little Gizie knew he was home. He played them from the moment we got out: wagging his tail, his little tongue sticking out because he was missing front teeth to keep it in, and even flopping over on his back to show how cute he was even for a two-and-a-half year old. He sauntered into the house, and stretched out to feel the cool hardwood beneath him. Gizmo just kept smiling, taking in his new digs and pretty much telling me it was time for us to part, that I could show myself out. It took just a little longer than the first family to get the contract signed, but I saw the look on the wife's face when she first bent down to pet him and knew she loved him right away.

I darn near skipped back to my truck. Two for two. I climbed into the truck and turned to scratch Teddy behind the ears. I gave him a pep talk. We were going to meet someone that wanted to meet him, but I didn't think it was going to be an actual adoption. I think Teddy is a great dog, but it's hard to get other people to see everything I see sometimes. I was now an hour ahead of schedule, so I called and of course, the potential adopter said come on over. Teddy was on his best behavior, or as best he could be. With so many new sights, so many new smells, it really is hard for a dog to control himself on a leash. We went inside and he settled down, sprawling his long legs on her kitchen floor. He indulged her petting and belly rubs, trying to comprehend why we were here and what was going on. It went about as I expected: she remarked what a beautiful dog he was, but his strength was a bit much for her I could tell. She wished us well and we headed back to the truck. I gave him a kiss on the head and told him we'd work harder for next time.

It was now after 2:30. We were headed home... almost. A text message went off. A foster family I needed to run some meds to was hanging out at Chili's. Since it was on my way, I decided to meet them there rather than have to run downtown again. I really hate driving. It's amazing the trips I used to take in college. I guess I do too much of it now and just hate it. We said our hellos, then I decided to grab a sub at Larry's on the way back. It was now after 3 and I hadn't yet had anything to eat. Teddy kept eying me, I could feel it on the back of my head. Every few traffic lights I'd give him a small bit of bread. I was proud of him for today, so I thought he deserved a treat.

We returned to the ranch only for me to discover that two dogs had torn apart the chainlink and chicken wire from their kennel doors and were running free in the yard. At least they were getting along. I put Teddy up, giving him a kennel that still had a cot since Amber had taken it upon herself to shred his two nights ago. I called Gary, my resident handyman guy for advice to fix the doors. Then I headed for my toolbox and rigged what I could, moved a few more pavers around, and stood back. If nothing else, it might annoy them enough to stop trying to break out for a little while. I headed back into the house and began the rounds of cleaning crates, refreshing water and administering meds.

Saturdays are usually event days, and Sundays are my reserved office days. But since I have four new volunteers coming tomorrow for training at the ranch, I would have to get everything I could done today. I was making good time, writing thank you notes, processing reciepts, updating pet pages, when I got a phone call from an adopter. Their puppy wasn't feeling good. An hour later, they were headed to the ER vet. Luckily, it was just coccidia and hookworms, even though they had been dewormed a week ago - which was just fabulous since watching them go potty for the two days before was like watching the Play-Doh go through the fun factory spagetti style - so the pup would get on fluids and stay overnight. They prepared me meds for the other puppies. So I called the other families to check on them. I decided to go to Richmond Hill to grab one and take him with me just in case. He got a shot, then his meds, and then we were on our way. It was now 8:30 pm and I was making a house call to Sonny. His family was very understanding. I gave him his meds, scratched his head, left my number and was out the door, headed, once again, back to the ranch.

What I failed to cover during this long night trip was my almost emotional breakdown. The work we do is very demanding. I was a nervous wreck when I found out the puppies were not feeling well. The last one here was doing fine, and they had just been to the vet yesterday morning before they were to go home. It broke my heart. We work so hard to make sure the adoptions go smoothly. I don't want adopters to spend their first or second nights worrying about their pups. It's supposed to be a happy experience. But we can't always catch everything. I had already told the ER vet we'd cover the expenses, it was the right thing to do. But I still felt awful. I needed to talk to someone, so I called the person I normally call. No answer. I called her other number... no answer. I called a third number... still no answer. Then I gripped the steering wheel hard. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream. I know so many people, so many who call me when they need something because they know I'll come running, but when I need someone to be there for me, I have no idea who to call or if anyone will even answer. I couldn't start crying. Walking into the ER vet or into an adopter's home with a puppy is a bad sign and gets people thinking the wrong thing. The puppy in my arms was yapping and licking my face, what sense would that make? So instead of having a breakdown in the truck on the way to the ER vet, I had a twenty minute conversation in my head self-talking out of a nervous breakdown just so no one would really know what was going on. Then to feel better, I went to, yet again, Arby's for a mint chocolate swirl shake. It's a very good thing there is not one near my house or I'd be a blimp again.

I got back home about 9. Time to take everyone out to go potty, re-feed some of the dogs, and give nighttime medicines. As usual, the noise level elevated as I walked through the door and tails wagged, always a good sign. Hannah was perched on the leather couch, her new favorite spot since I took the baby gate down just before Christmas. Though it was really helping to shape my abs, thighs and buttocks, carrying 40 pound bags of food over the gate into the kitchen had gotten old after a year and a half. I took great joy in medicating Peaches' puppies. Just a week ago I had been worried they wouldn't survive. Now, I was holding them in my hand, looking at their eyes wide open (between yawns) and feeling so much joy every time I held them.

Chores now over, it was time to head to the office to check email and finish up stuff for the volunteers coming tomorrow. That's when I got a message from my friend Cat. And for whatever reason, even after all these years and so much time apart, she's still a big cheerleader for me. She was encouraging and comforting, and of course, humoring me. I tease her so much for being a Yankee, but she is one of the greatest people I know. I suppose I always hold a special place for her as she was the one who nominated me for the Top 10 Working Women in Savannah list two years ago. So I gave her my rundown of the day/evening. After suggesting I approach Arby's for a sponsorship to support my habit and giving me permission to scream and cry, she told me something that really just made everything else melt away: "hey man, i'm an ideas person and you inspire ideas, what can i say." I've never thought of myself as inspiring. What I do with the rescue has always been looked at as a hobby, though very expensive and time consuming. But it made me feel like maybe I do have a chance at leaving an impact on this world, something I've always wanted to do. I thanked Cat for the conversation and for understanding me. Then in true Cat form she said something that just made me laugh: "well...it's either my incredibly incisive psych 101 or...you spend so much time talking to animals that there aren't any people who can live up to them." Everyone should be so blessed to have as good a friend as Cat.

So at the end of the day, here I am: a hopeless animal fanatic spending a Saturday night blogging about her day with the animals, checking out her friends on Facebook, watching "The Wedding Date" and chatting online with a close friend. I suppose there are worse ways to finish out a crazy Saturday.