By now, most of you know I have changed jobs after more than 7 years. I'm still in web development, but I'm now with THE Lady of Savannah... the one and only Paula Deen. I'm the newest webmaster in the Paula Deen Online family and boy, what a family!
While I still haven't gotten my commute completely figured out, I have already noticed so many other changes. Since I have such trusting and dedicated ranch hand volunteers, I'm able to not worry about rushing home. I even have time to spend with my personal dogs now, something that had been incredibly short most all other nights until recently. My stress level has dropped drastically, and I just overall feel like a better person. This is a company that wants to see its employees grow and succeed, and I'm so privileged to be a part.
All that said, I do have one gripe: I know NOTHING about cooking. I have one recipe that I do on a grill, and only for special occasions. But no way would I ever dare put it in front of The Lady. I spent the last two days pouring through the recipes on the website, and even got to select those that appeared on the front page this week and their categories. You'll notice my favorite treat, Brownies, are all listed. Of course, those were the first ones I hunted. I next chose two categories I thought I might stand a chance at making without too much fuss, so we have chilled drinks (which Phil made me change to Party Potions) and fruit-based salads I called Fruity Salads (yes, I'm that creative). But I noticed as I was going through that some of these have a cook time of 8 hours, good grief! While I might think my patience has gotten better as I've gotten older, sadly my willingness to wait to eat has not. When I come home, if I'm gonna cook, it better take 30 minutes or less. That's all I'm giving. Luckily enough, I found several recipes that can be done in half that time (tune in later this month to see them). So there may be hope for me yet, even if I am still waiting for the Paula Deen Cooking for Dummies book (no, it's not in the works, just an idea I think I need for me).
I had never imagined just how much takes place behind the scenes. Let me tell you, it's rarely quiet in the building and there is ALWAYS something to do. But that's a good thing as I need the job security!
Now I'm not privy to any special secrets or information, so please don't ask. In fact, I've only once briefly met Paula Deen in a roundabout way at The South Magazine party last year when her niece was named hottest bachelorette and CPR was named Top 5 Non-Profit Changing the World. I only know from the stories I hear that she and the boys are just as gracious a Southern family as you would imagine. I'm very blessed to have been recruited to join their team.
And, for the record, I've been saying "Y'all" since I was a little tyke, so don't go saying I learned it just to fit in!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Georgia's First Day with the Media
There's no question how much I love dogs, particularly my rescue dogs. So when Georgia came to me, it became apparent she had so much to teach people. So I scheduled an appearance with WJCL to appear with her on their morning show. Being that I'm not a morning person, this is a big deal for me, meaning I'm up at 5 am. Sure, if you're military, that's nothing, but I have Tybee Bum in my blood, and I despise being up before the sun. Georgia, on the other hand, had no problem whatsoever getting up and going for a car ride. She's finally learned to get herself in and out of the rescue mobile without my assistance. She always sits happily just behind my seat, her head resting as close to my shoulder as possible.
The drive in was very peaceful, though odd as I could still see the full moon. I wasn't 100% sure how she would react to a TV studio, but she was a natural. Through our walks each day, Georgia has learned to love the attention of other people. Since the WJCL set is in transition, I would have to sit at the anchor desk while Lyndy held her beneath us. I was in her line of sight the entire time, but it didn't matter. The cameras, the lights, nothing phased her so long as she had someone's hand on her making her feel special.
She seemed a little reluctant to leave, already feeling like a star. We drove home and arrived in time enough for me to take a nap before having to get up and go into the office. Georgia would have a good long rest before her next media appearance that evening.
We arrived at JF Gregory right around six. Georgia knows this place well, and immediately started pulling me like a sled towards the path we walk. She braved the swarms of gnats to roll around in the grass while the photographer from the South Magazine snapped shot after shot. At the end of the hour, we walked to a different part of the park, where Georgia drew the attention of a very famous dog.
Barley, the Budweiser Dalmation, decided he had found a new playmate. Georgia did not know what to think. We watched as this dog ran into the middle of our photo shoot, stared at Georgia, then flopped over onto his back and barked. Georgia just stood there. We have worked at getting her comfortable around other dogs at the ranch, but she hasn't once played. Barley didn't know this. He would jump up, bark, run around Georgia, then flop down on the ground again and wait for her to do something back. About the eighth time, she finally took her paw and swatted at his snout. Barley took it as a sign that she was ready to play. He ran around her, sniffing, play biting her leg, till she finally gave in and did something back. For about ten minutes we watched Georgia interact with Barley as if reconnecting with a long-lost friend. I was so proud, I almost cried. Nothing could make me happier than seeing her smile.
The drive in was very peaceful, though odd as I could still see the full moon. I wasn't 100% sure how she would react to a TV studio, but she was a natural. Through our walks each day, Georgia has learned to love the attention of other people. Since the WJCL set is in transition, I would have to sit at the anchor desk while Lyndy held her beneath us. I was in her line of sight the entire time, but it didn't matter. The cameras, the lights, nothing phased her so long as she had someone's hand on her making her feel special.
She seemed a little reluctant to leave, already feeling like a star. We drove home and arrived in time enough for me to take a nap before having to get up and go into the office. Georgia would have a good long rest before her next media appearance that evening.
We arrived at JF Gregory right around six. Georgia knows this place well, and immediately started pulling me like a sled towards the path we walk. She braved the swarms of gnats to roll around in the grass while the photographer from the South Magazine snapped shot after shot. At the end of the hour, we walked to a different part of the park, where Georgia drew the attention of a very famous dog.
Barley, the Budweiser Dalmation, decided he had found a new playmate. Georgia did not know what to think. We watched as this dog ran into the middle of our photo shoot, stared at Georgia, then flopped over onto his back and barked. Georgia just stood there. We have worked at getting her comfortable around other dogs at the ranch, but she hasn't once played. Barley didn't know this. He would jump up, bark, run around Georgia, then flop down on the ground again and wait for her to do something back. About the eighth time, she finally took her paw and swatted at his snout. Barley took it as a sign that she was ready to play. He ran around her, sniffing, play biting her leg, till she finally gave in and did something back. For about ten minutes we watched Georgia interact with Barley as if reconnecting with a long-lost friend. I was so proud, I almost cried. Nothing could make me happier than seeing her smile.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Welcome Home, Georgia
The bed has an unusual smell and silly patterns on it. But it's soft under her frail body. Within 20 minutes of her arrival and placement into a crate, Georgia has curled up into a ball and settled in for a nap.
Anyone who knows me knows I love Huskies. It's been the hardest thing to turn them away the last few months since we have no more room, but it is a sad fact of our world right now. But when I got the photos of Georgia two days ago, there was just no way I couldn't open up one more kennel space for her.
The email came through to me as "Husky In Need" from a fellow rescuer. She assured me that I was under no obligation to take the dog on, knowing she was going to need a lot of care. But that has become our specialty. All I could see in the photos was some group of fur. All the huskies I've ever known were proud dogs, always had their heads high, smiles almost back to their ears. This dog had her head down, almost ashamed at her pitiful appearance. I was assured she had someone to foster her, so we just needed the financial backing. I agreed. I knew it was a bad thing when I got a personal email from the vet, outlining all her problems. So I decided, given all the care she is going to need, and the length of time it was going to take, to bring her out to the ranch. So I picked her up from Tybee after my dentist appointment this afternoon.
I'm used to dogs pulling on leashes, but Georgia didn't know what was going on enough to realize she could pull if she wanted to. I opened up the truck door and put her inside. We were low on gas, so I stopped before leaving the island. I couldn't quite place the name for her. I thought of beach names since I picked her up from Tybee, but that wasn't her original home so it didn't seem to fit. Her coat reminded me of Georgia red clay... so Georgia it became. I got back in the car, turned to tell her we had a long ride home so she should get comfortable. I got a quick kiss on the face.
We drove home. I had so much on my mind... what was she going to do with the other dogs, would her fur ever grow back, what about the complications for having her spayed, what all was on the list Dr. Pam emailed me. True, we could treat more dogs with fewer conditions for what she's going to cost us, but is that really fair? We just went bankrupt on the litter of puppies from the cardboard box that had parvo. In what we do, there is never a sure thing. Even "owned" dogs come to us with issues. No one's perfect.
When we arrived to the ranch, I got the camera out to take photos. The sunlight hit her coat perfectly, but it also made it easier to show all her baggage: missing fur, permanent scars, skinny frame. All this in just two years just so she could make a profit for someone. Sadly, Georgia is not atypical for backyard breeding dogs. We've seen lots of them come through. Luckily though she is eager to be touched and petted and give her kisses to anyone who will accept them. We found the only can of adult food as she has only a few teeth that need root canals and can't really chew. She hasn't even touched her food. I'm hoping she will realize that we will always feed her and make sure her belly is full. But I know from experience, these things take time.
In an attempt to soothe her rough skin, I gave her a bath with some medical shampoo tonight that does a lot to help stop itching. Like most dogs, Georgia was not keen on the idea of a bath. I knew she had one over the weekend, but it was probably her first one ever. Part of using the medicated shampoo is that it has to sit on the skin for 10 minutes. I had forgotten my cell phone, so I decided I'd sing a few Jimmy Buffett songs to pass the time. I didn't have a radio, but knew plenty by heart. After five songs, I figured she'd suffered enough and ran the water again. The sudden sound made her jump... right over my shoulder. I caught her mid air before my back hit the toilet behind me. The floor needed a good scrubbing anyway, so the suds everywhere didn't hurt anything. We finished the bath, and she tolerated the blow dryer. By tolerated I mean she tried to run through my legs and out the door but I caught her and held her like my own thighmaster.
I put her back in her crate. As if I hadn't tormented her enough, I had to now give her eye medication and a capsule. Normally, I'd put the pill in a treat and give it to the dog. No, instead, Georgia mouthed around the treat part, trying to figure out how to eat it without the pill. It wasn't pretty. Apparantly, she also decided she no longer wanted to smell like cucumber and spent 30 minutes trying to like off the smell until she wore herself out and crashed.
It's my hope that as we work with Georgia, people will become more educated about what happens to the dogs used to produce those cute little puppies at the flea markets and in the classified ads. Maybe one day we can actually stop the cycle.
Anyone who knows me knows I love Huskies. It's been the hardest thing to turn them away the last few months since we have no more room, but it is a sad fact of our world right now. But when I got the photos of Georgia two days ago, there was just no way I couldn't open up one more kennel space for her.
The email came through to me as "Husky In Need" from a fellow rescuer. She assured me that I was under no obligation to take the dog on, knowing she was going to need a lot of care. But that has become our specialty. All I could see in the photos was some group of fur. All the huskies I've ever known were proud dogs, always had their heads high, smiles almost back to their ears. This dog had her head down, almost ashamed at her pitiful appearance. I was assured she had someone to foster her, so we just needed the financial backing. I agreed. I knew it was a bad thing when I got a personal email from the vet, outlining all her problems. So I decided, given all the care she is going to need, and the length of time it was going to take, to bring her out to the ranch. So I picked her up from Tybee after my dentist appointment this afternoon.
I'm used to dogs pulling on leashes, but Georgia didn't know what was going on enough to realize she could pull if she wanted to. I opened up the truck door and put her inside. We were low on gas, so I stopped before leaving the island. I couldn't quite place the name for her. I thought of beach names since I picked her up from Tybee, but that wasn't her original home so it didn't seem to fit. Her coat reminded me of Georgia red clay... so Georgia it became. I got back in the car, turned to tell her we had a long ride home so she should get comfortable. I got a quick kiss on the face.
We drove home. I had so much on my mind... what was she going to do with the other dogs, would her fur ever grow back, what about the complications for having her spayed, what all was on the list Dr. Pam emailed me. True, we could treat more dogs with fewer conditions for what she's going to cost us, but is that really fair? We just went bankrupt on the litter of puppies from the cardboard box that had parvo. In what we do, there is never a sure thing. Even "owned" dogs come to us with issues. No one's perfect.
When we arrived to the ranch, I got the camera out to take photos. The sunlight hit her coat perfectly, but it also made it easier to show all her baggage: missing fur, permanent scars, skinny frame. All this in just two years just so she could make a profit for someone. Sadly, Georgia is not atypical for backyard breeding dogs. We've seen lots of them come through. Luckily though she is eager to be touched and petted and give her kisses to anyone who will accept them. We found the only can of adult food as she has only a few teeth that need root canals and can't really chew. She hasn't even touched her food. I'm hoping she will realize that we will always feed her and make sure her belly is full. But I know from experience, these things take time.
In an attempt to soothe her rough skin, I gave her a bath with some medical shampoo tonight that does a lot to help stop itching. Like most dogs, Georgia was not keen on the idea of a bath. I knew she had one over the weekend, but it was probably her first one ever. Part of using the medicated shampoo is that it has to sit on the skin for 10 minutes. I had forgotten my cell phone, so I decided I'd sing a few Jimmy Buffett songs to pass the time. I didn't have a radio, but knew plenty by heart. After five songs, I figured she'd suffered enough and ran the water again. The sudden sound made her jump... right over my shoulder. I caught her mid air before my back hit the toilet behind me. The floor needed a good scrubbing anyway, so the suds everywhere didn't hurt anything. We finished the bath, and she tolerated the blow dryer. By tolerated I mean she tried to run through my legs and out the door but I caught her and held her like my own thighmaster.
I put her back in her crate. As if I hadn't tormented her enough, I had to now give her eye medication and a capsule. Normally, I'd put the pill in a treat and give it to the dog. No, instead, Georgia mouthed around the treat part, trying to figure out how to eat it without the pill. It wasn't pretty. Apparantly, she also decided she no longer wanted to smell like cucumber and spent 30 minutes trying to like off the smell until she wore herself out and crashed.
It's my hope that as we work with Georgia, people will become more educated about what happens to the dogs used to produce those cute little puppies at the flea markets and in the classified ads. Maybe one day we can actually stop the cycle.
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