Paranoid Pet and Horse Owners, Unite!
Jan 28 2010
I’m working on another bigger story but I had to put this up because I just know I will hear a lot of similar stories from my readers!
Last night, while wandering around the house on a phone call, I walked into my bedroom and a pillow was knocked onto the floor and soaked in a reddish liquid. Â OMG. Â I examined it and removed the pillowcase and started looking around — surely someone was puking blood and needed to go to the emergency vet immediately.
I scoured the house and checked every single cat and the dog for any sign that weren’t in tip-top condition.  I felt their chins, I smelled their breath.  They all seemed fine…but what if they weren’t?  OMG.  What would make a cat puke blood?  I was about to go to google and try to find out when I walked back into the bedroom to find the shy kitty that lives in the closet…and discovered what had thrown up on my pillow.
A can of cherry Diet Dr. Pepper that some naughty cat had overturned on the dresser.
HMPH!
These animals will give you heart failure, won’t they? Â I remember another time when I was positive a kitten had gotten out and was lost — only to find her inside the kitchen cabinet. Â Note to new cat owners: Â they can and do open cabinet doors!
So, I know I am not the only one. Â Share your stories of a time when you were sure some animal had gotten very sick or very hurt or gotten out and were freaking out, only to discover everything was fine after all!
217 comments to “Paranoid Pet and Horse Owners, Unite!”
« Previous 1 2
« Previous 1 2
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment. Not a member? Registering is free, and you do it here!
i was letting my Arab pony be used as a lesson horse at the place i was boarding. that facility required that all lesson horses be turned out with a halter on, so i had a flimsy nylon break-away halter on her. the chin strap was rubbing a bit of a raw spot so i put a little fleece tube on it to keep it from rubbing. my dad had apparently forgotten about the fleece tubing one day when he went out to get another horse from the field and somehow when he saw the fleece piece, he thought it was my mare’s jaw hanging sideways at a weird angle. he said he was totally freaking out, trying, as he walked up to my pony, to figure out how to tell me that my horse’s jaw was broken. he finally got close enough to see what was going on and just about died of relief on the spot.
OMG, these are ( largely, I know there are some true emergencies discussed) the funniest FHOTD comments EVER!!! Thanks, Fugs, for coming up with such a brilliant topic. Here are my two “horror” stories for your reading pleasure.
I go home every day for lunch to my three little dogs out to use the bathroom. One day when I got home they weren’t waiting at the door as they usually do. I saw one of them dart from behind a chair and run into the other room. When I looked behind the chair I see what is left of a full box of dog treats. They are the store brand of snack sticks that come in 26 oz cannisters. There are very few left in the box. I look at the little dog that darted from behind the chair and he’s fine, i then look at the most dominant little dog and realize she wasn’t sharing her prize until I distracted her when I came in. She had eaten almost the entire box BY HERSELF! Now keep in mind this is a 10 pound 12 year old yorkie poo. Her belly was distended and she was approximately football shaped. I called my vet to see what I should do and was told to bring the dog in so they could keep an eye on her all day. She didn’t look like she was feeling too good so I put her on the front seat of my car and prayed she didn’t throw up in my car during the 20 minute ride into town. The vet called me at 5:00 pm and told me to come and get her, she was fine. When I picked her up she was back to her normal shape. She had vomited up most of her ill gotten gains in the vet’s office and didn’t have dinner that evening. When I told my husband that evening what had happened he was outraged and wanted to know how much that little trip was going to cost. I told him it didn’t matter. When I got the bill they had only charged me $6.00 for day boarding. The funny thing is, I would have paid 10 times that amount without blinking and considered it a bargain!
Couldn’t find my big male cat one night. Looked everywhere in my very small apartment. I’m sitting on my bed in tears trying to figure out what happened to him when big cat decides to dive off the light bridge over my bed into my lap. I just about pissed mysefl.
Open Cabinets? – yes they can. I knew they could pull a closet door open and help themselves to toys (now if I could just get them to put them away). But I was surprised when I came when night to a crunchy kitchen floor. Turned out big male had figured out how to open a kitchen cabinet that had a bag of cat nip in it. Apparently ripped it open with great abandon and flung the contents all over the kitchen. Guess I should have realized when he didn’t come to the door crying for dinner as usual that something was up. My other cat stood right outside the kitchen entry looking all innocent. Probably would have worked better if she didn’t have catnip ON TOP OF HER HEAD! Kitchen cabinets now have child safety locks.
Oh, I was just there a couple of months ago myself. The second day I moved into my own apartment, i returned home from work and found my one kitty, Batman, right away. But my favorite kitty, Puck, was nowhere to be found. I looked EVERYWHERE in my teeny tiny little apartment. I was sure that he’d slipped out the door when I was leaving for work and was lost forever, being completely terrified of the outdoors and front declawed. I had cried my eyes out and given up hope. I was in the kitchen unpacking a box of pans, opened one cabinet, and out flew my little kitty. I was so mad but so relieved.
Puck went to the Rainbow Bridge 20 days ago, RIP my sweetest boy.
We had a pair of feral kittens we’d trapped in the back yard and were socializing. We were a couple weeks into it, and they were allowed out of their cage to play in the living room and kitchen in the evening. One evening we were ready for bed but one of the kittens was no where to be found. We frantically searched the house, even the bits that were blocked off and, supposedly, kitten proof. No kitten. No kitten. Panic is starting to set in and we still can’t find the kitten.
We finally found her curled up in one of the empty holes in the wine rack. She was happy and content and so not worried about these strange monkeys that were running around yelling.
I have a male Mini Aussie, who is a great dog. When he was 11 weeks old(I had had him for ONE WEEK) he was at my sisters house, who didn’t have any dogs. He apparently got into the cabinet under the sink and carried me a 3/4 eaten box of Decon(mouse killer). It was 11:00 pm, an emergency vet visit, where he had to have some pill put in his eye to make him throw up everything he ate and the decon.
Same dog, a few years later was in the hall way, making really weird noises. Well it was Sunday, at 6:00 in the morning. My husband was pretty cranky and yelled TUCKER SHUT UP. So I got up and stepped in something wet. I thought maybe he got sick or something. I flicked on a light, and there was blood all over the floor. He had some how gotten his leg wedged under the table(it had metal legs, and we no longer have it) and he cut an artery. We loaded him up in the car, my husband holding pressure on it while I drove and called the vet. She said I needed to wrap it up as tight as I could and she would hurry. Thank goodness for 24 hour stores! Wrapped it up, three shots of “stuff to get his heart rate up” and an hour of trying to get the artery closed off, a day of waiting for him to recover and a lot of doggy throw up later, he is better.
This one, is my fault. I had always wanted a horse, but never had one before. A lot of my friends had, but i didnt have one of my own. Well I didnt get a vet check. His owner said his eye had an infection, and she gave me the medicine with it, and she cried when I took him home, so I thought she knew what she was talking about. So I got him home, walked him around the fence of this new pasture and let him go. He seemed to take to it really well. I let him adjust to his new home for a few days before I took him off of the pasture. I was walking him into the barn, and he kept running into things on his right side. Call me cautious, but I decided to take him to the vet. The vet didnt give me very much information, but just said he was blind in that eye. Well that sucked, but it was not too bad. I could live with that. A few months later, we needed to move, and while we were getting his pasture set up we moved him to a boarding facility while we worked. I decided to talk to the barn owner and see if I could work something out with her to work off board. Well I took the whole morning shift of feeding/turning out/cleaning. I liked it because it was not only paying my board, but it let me do his feeding and watering, and daily check overs. After about three days, he wouldnt open his right eye. Back to the vet we went. It took four trips to the vet, and they said he had an “infection”. After a few days, the medicine didn’t seem to help, so I turned into an internet vet, and figured out that he had recurrent uvitus. This was a “flare up” because of the stress of moving to a boarding facility and being around all the other horses. Now I have a bag full of different medicines and he can get flare ups from, stress, cold, heat, dirt, scratches, pretty much life. I have had him for almost 4 years and I love him. He also cribbs, is a hard keeper, and is just kind of crazy. Because he has so many issues, I probably wont get rid of him, because I would worry about him too much and that someone wouldn’t take care of him.
Gotta love having a soft heart.
HAHA I know all about refusing to sell a horse because you honestly believe no one else will take as good care of it…or understand it as well as you. I will never sell my mare for exactly that reason!!!
Heh. When I first got my cats, I’d never had to deal with a bad case of fleas. They were small, small kittens. It didn’t connect in my brain that flea feces is just blood. When I washed them, the water turned red. I began sobbing! I just knew I had somehow killed my tiny little kitten rescues. And then I felt like a fool when I DID put together in my head it was just the flea waste dissolving in the water. At least I got them flea-free.
Another scare was my dog Dixie. My mother had given her some red velvet cake (shame on her!), unannounced to me. I took her out to do her business…some runny red poop. Oh. Shit.
I’m freaking out and I run in the house and look at her gums, I’m checking her over, and I call mom and tell her that Dix has bloody stool and she’s got to go to the vet because something has to be wrong there.
Mom hesitates and says “Oh, it must be the red dye from the red velvet cake I fed her…”
Big sigh of relief and annoyance. I bet Dixie was laughing at me on the inside.
I was looking after my friend’s dark bay cob for the winter and, as I came up the lane to the field, I couldn’t see her in the field. No problem, I figured. She was probably just lurking in a corner somewhere out of sight.
Only, no, she wasn’t. There was absolutely no sign of a dark bay cob in that field.
It’s bad enough when it’s your own horse but when it’s somebody else’s? I was totally freaking out by the time I got to the gate.
And then a light-dun-coloured cob came wandering over the gate. It was only when she was fifty yards away that I realised the light dun cob was actually a dark bay cob COATED in mud. I’ve never been so thankful to have a hellish grooming job ahead of me!
Off topic, but I keep running across kijiji (wait, how many j’s?) ads by this farm listing LOTS of horses. Which, having visited their site, I understand why.
http://www.freewebs.com/3dranch/
Tons of studs with no apparent records, “sport horses” all over the place, and babies selling as unhandled because they’re in a ‘closed herd’?
“They are in a closed herd, therefore we will not be taking clients to the herd for viewing, you will be considering these fillies from several pics as well as references. Fillies sell as haltered but unhandled.”
Really? I’ve never heard of such a thing before; it sounds nuts to me. I don’t know about anyone else, but I sure as heck wouldn’t be buying a horse I wasn’t allowed to SEE in the flesh first. Can someone shed a little light on this? Is there some reason for doing this?
Oh, and the website, for the curious: http://www.freewebs.com/3dranch/
I saw that on Kijiji too (the Edmonton one, like I’d drive 3500 km to see those horses)…they used to also have a page on there that was talking about their “natural broodmares” (which they stated themselves had no deworming, shots, farrier, handling, etc). They took that part down though so I’m guessing people complained. Yeah they have way too many unproven and/or mediocre stallions listed on there though
After looking at those pictures, all I can say is WTF? Seriously!
It seemed like all the fillies I could see full pictures of had short, upside-down necks, and pasterns longer than my arm. And these are untouched, except for some halter breaking? Is it just me, or did you hear a kill buyer yelling “kaching! Kaching!” over and over as well?
I emaild this lady telling her how bad her horses are. I’ll attach what I wrote her.
What I wrote her:
Why must you breed horses? You don’t even let people LOOK at some? That’s pretty much saying there’s someting wrong with the poor fugly foals bred! And they’re selling unhandled? What the hell do you do in your spare time? Update your website all day since you already have do many damn horses? You should also geld all your stallions because they haven’t have done a DAMN thing! A main part in a stallions life isn’t only breeding! He should be proven in his breed by having outstanding conformation and winning at BREED shows! Many [smart] people would rather breed to a proven stallion that has shown, and won, than one that hasn’t done one thing in his life except be riddin and fooled around with. What have your mares done? NOTHING!!
Also why breed grade horses? You can go to an aution and save a life! Many horses at auctions are exactly the same as yours but for a much cheaper price. What the hell is wrong with Filly #2, she’s extremely downhill and has no chest definition. Oh yeah nice post legs, they look pretty nice. The mare is also over the knee.
Maybe you will take my advice if you’re smart enough.
Her Reply:
Hi,
I am aware you are a CHILD and you need to grow up, hense why I have class and maners….get a life and stay off the internet because you obviously have NO idea what you are talking about. I am reporting you, we will see how you like that.
I am by means a child, but very intelligent and smart one. I know what I’m talking about, I’ve been a horse lover since I can remember ( Which is 3 lol) So making me knowing and studying about horses for 10 years.
Herself is acting like a child “I am going to report you and see how you like that”.
I read their notice to buyers which I thought was appropriate. I noticed on the natural herd horses, it also says they are not the breeders, and they are assisting in the sale.
(Whoops, I did sumthin wrong)
1) It was time to clean guinea pig cages, so I turned the critters loose in their usual “run,” aka my kitchen. This, being in my bachelorette apartment, was a long, narrow and spartan room consisting of a wall of windows and a wall of cabinetry and appliances. It was a simple matter to block the doorway with a board and contain my pets. Cage-cleaning completed, I rounded up the herd. Wait – where was Peanut? This little guy, the product of an extremely accidental and illicit liaison between a mother and son, was not the sharpest swine in the barnyard (truly – if there ever was a case for proving incest can cause retardation, he was it), so I couldn’t imagine where he had gotten to. Unless he had suddenly developed the skill to vertically leap 2.5 feet over the board… I spent the next half hour tearing my apartment apart, increasingly frantic, looking for pig. Nothing. I decided he absolutely HAD to be in that kitchen – but where? I sat quietly and listened. Finally, I heard a rustle, coming from UNDER the cabinets. Whuh?? Feeling with my hand under the edge, I discovered there was a gap between the top of the baseboard and the bottom of the cabinet floors. I ran for my claw hammer, and praising the shoddy construction for once, started prying up cabinet floors. Voila – there was Peanut, very dusty and very pleased with himself. Score: Peanut 1, Mom 0.
2) My son and I were farm-sitting for a friend. Our charges included three horses, three dogs and three cats. I was most worried about the oldest dog; the first time I met her, she was lying so still in a corner I thought she had already died. Her owner said, “Oh, yeah, she sleeps like that all the time. She’s deaf and blind so I just give her a little shake when it’s time to eat. Don’t freak out if you’re here and she really is dead.” Yah, sure… anyway, we were told we would probably never see one of the cats, as he was a recent rescue and terrified of everyone. He was confined to her bedroom and bathroom and owner pointed out his usual hidey-hole in the bathroom linen closet. Skip ahead to Day 2 at the farm. Geriatric dog was still clinging to life, but I was recuperating from being scared out of my wits bringing the horses in from the pasture (I’d thought her yearling was going to flatten me running down the hill). I told my son to check on Teddy, the Invisible Kitty (we had actually caught a glimpse of him a couple times). Son came out of the bedroom with a funny look on his face: “Mom, I can’t find him.” I thought, well, he HAS to be there, so we started looking. No cat. I started to panic. Had I left the bedroom door open? Had I left the HOUSE door open? Oh, God, the thing has lit out for Timbuktoo and we’re gonna be blamed… Then, to my horror, I noticed the air duct cover on the floor of the bedroom was ajar. No way, unh-uh, no FREAKIN’ way… “Son, was that vent cover always like that?” “Well, no, I don’t think so Mom.” We ran to the basement, hearts in throat, fully expecting to see that the air duct was situated at a nice 45-degree angle to the furnace, so if the bugger had indeed jumped in he’d had a nice quick slide to a fiery death. Good news: the air duct proceeded flatly across the bottom of the floor for about 30′ before heading to the furnace. Bad news: we heard paws walking in the duct. Yep, that’s where he’d gone. Fun call to the owner, THAT was. I was more than a little concerned about the cat’s health since it was quite cold out so the heat was running a lot, and he was a long-haired cat. We kinda thought she’d be coming home to Roast Invisible Kitty. Fortunately, all ended well; owner came home that night and was able to call the cat forth, none the worse for wear. The same can’t be said about MY nerves, however! I don’t know how full-time petsitters do it – too damn much responsibility.
Oh, the story of Peanut makes me think of another “Oh-shit-freakout” moment. I have worked in a large chain pet store for the last 5 years and have taken in and found homes for many unwanted pets since people think “pet store” really means “dumping ground”. A lady came in with a sad-looking parakeet in a tiny cage one day saying if we don’t take this bird she was going to let it loose. She told me she’d had him for 4 years (!!!), he’d always been alone in this teeny little cage that was maybe fit only for taking a bird to the vet in, plus he’d always had the same one toy all his life too. I had a big wire cage that my hamster lived in until she died, it was 12″x12″x24″ and would be fine for a small bird but nothing fancy to look at. I got him some new toys and dishes then took him home and went about setting up the cage for a bird. A couple hours and some homemade perches later (I just *KNEW* it was a good idea to take home all those free wooden dowels from some old signs!) and Mr. Parakeet had a great new cage with lots of places to perch, way more room than he had before and several new toys to play with. I took him into the little 1/2 bathroom downstairs to transfer him to the new cage, it was safe from hungry cats and “bird proof” in case he got loose getting him out of the old cage.
Well, I *THOUGHT* it was bird proof, anyway. Things were going OK until I actually got a hold of the bird, I covered him with a paper towel and took him out…then somehow he got his head free and promptly bit me as hard as he could right on the spot between my thumb and index finger. It hurt like hell and made me let go of him. He fluttered down to the floor and as I was trying to grab him again he went under the cabinet then vanished! There was a hole I’d never seen before, between the bottom of the cabinet and the wall, maybe only 1 1/2 inches or so. Just big enough for a parakeet to squeeze into. OK, I thought, I’ll open the cabinet and he’ll be inside there! NOPE. He was between the side of it and the wall. I tried poking a perch into the hole to see if he’d come out, but got nothing except for tiny little scratching sounds and the screeching of a very angry little bird.
That’s when I started to panic. I was freaking out trying to think of how to get him out of there when I thought, “Shit!!! I have to get him out before too long because he can starve or die of thirst in a day or two! WTF am I gonna dooooo…?!?!?!” I was about to call my boss, who I knew had a Sawz-All kind of tool to cut the side of the cabinet out when I stopped and thought, Hey…it’s almost midnight and she’s going to be mighty pissed if I call her now. She and my hubby (he works in the same store with me) have to be at work at 4am tomorrow, so I’ll ask her to loan me the saw when I drop him off. Yeah!
Just then I thought about what you should do if a pet bird gets loose outside, which is to leave it’s cage out there with the door tied open and food and water in it. I put a twist tie on his old cage door to hold it open, put the food and water back in it and set it on the floor right in front of the hole he was in. I left the light on in the bathroom and went to bed.
Hubby got me up to take him to work a few hours later, I went straight to the bathroom and cracked the door open an inch to see what was what.
Mr. Parakeet was sitting there perched in his old cage, with what I thought must be a look of little-bird smugness!
I have three dogs; a collie, a chessie mix, and a german shepherd pup. They’re all three really good dogs, and we’re a strongly bonded little family. They like to follow me everywhere. Recently, I’ve had to take my photography business out of my home, and they can’t come with me to work most days anymore. And even though they have a massive back yard to play in and free access into and out of the house via dog-door (it’s infrared-triggered with little box-things that clip to their collars, so the local wildlife can’t use it as access to the buffet that is my kitchen), when I started leaving them home alone to work, the chessie decided to express her displeasure by using my upstairs hallway as a toilet. Since then, during the day they’re confined to the downstairs via a baby gate across the bottom of the stairs.
One day I came home from work to find my collie missing. I spent an hour searching the house, thinking maybe he locked himself in the bathroom, but I didn’t find him in the house or in the yard. I thought maybe he’d found a way to get out of the fence, so I spent the next several hours searching the neighborhood and calling neighbors and local animal control and veterinary offices, thinking maybe someone had taken him there, or he’d been picked up. Nothing, and none of my neighbors had seen him either.
Six hours later, I collapse onto my bed and land on a hard, growling lump. Turns out the little brat had figured out he could squeeze his skinny self through the banister and spend the day lounging on my bed. I’d only taken a cursory glance through my room when I searched the house, not really thinking that he’d gotten up there at all. Turns out he was safe and sound the entire time.
We had just bought a very young, very small pygmy buckling (baby male goat for those who don’t know goats) and he was just getting settled in when we had a nasty storm come through. Our older doe had already holed herself up in the barn, but we couldn’t find the little buckling anywhere. We ran up and down our neighbor’s pasture, and all across town, but there was no sign of him. We rechecked our yard, calling for him, but there was still no sign. Finally, we just posted ads and went home.
When the storm cleared out a few hours later, I heard him screaming his head off, looking for everyone. I run out into the backyard only to see him poke his head out from the doghouse we had set out for him (which he hated until that day-we had also checked the doghouse while we were looking for him, and he never made a peep. He was a very dark goat).
Unfortunately, he died this past Monday (snapped his neck playfighting), but I’ll still never forget the headache he gave me that day.
Cairn terrier puppy. Chews everything! Runs away with items and you can not catch her. I find a chewed box of extra strength liquigel cold and sinus medication. They are in the peel off foil tabs, but she seems to have mastered getting those out of there better than i ever can. So i find is loose pills, some chewed unopened ones but i can not find the right amount of loose pills to go into the package. She could have eaten 4. It is 6:05. Vet closes at 6. Greeeaaaat. So off to the ER Vet. They say they will induce vomiting and charcoal her. $165 dollars later they say that she did not vomit any thing that looked like the aqua liquigels, but there were some pieces of pencil and blue plastic
.
She was fine, continued on her puppydom. She much better about running off with things and we can catch her now. She can shred a kleenex in 15 seconds flat though.
I love this thread…and I’m almost embarrassed to share this story.
I adopted a rescued calico cat (Sabeen Marie now almost 16) and after the third degree from the rescuer, I brought her in. My previously only-cat (Keena – an opinionated black Siamese now almost 17) was not amused and spent days on top of the kitchen cabinets. Keena finally came down but was not happy with me. While I was home and supervising they stayed away from each other mostly but there was some hissing and yelling. Eventually they both slept with me (albeit on either side of me so they couldn’t see each other at night) so how bad could it be to leave them out for a little bit? Surely they were becoming friends on some level.
I came home one day from work and couldn’t find either of them. I looked everywhere…under things, inside things, behind things. I panicked and of course neither responded to my calls. I could see in my head this woman chastising me for letting this poor street waif get killed by my evil child. I promised nothing would ever happen to her and I would take good care of her forever. We had one blood letting where they clawed each other on the tip of their noses so I thought for sure they waited for the moment they could beat each other senseless while I was not there.
I had a king sized water bed at the time that was hollow underneath and though a cat could fit I could not. Keena loved it under there and that had to be where they were. I got as far as I could between it and the wall to try to see under the center. No go – I was way too big. I got a mirror and a flashlight and tried to see under there that way. No go – could only see part way in. I was sure they had dueled to the death in the space under the bed farther than I could see. Still panicking I used every last brain cell to try to figure out something.
The foot of the bed had a small panel that slid but with the mattress full I couldn’t get the panel out.
I decided to cut through it.
Got my neighbor’s jig saw but it wouldn’t cut…I broke the only blade I could find. He wasn’t home to help.
Tried a sheetrock saw and bent that.
I tried breaking the wood with a hammer…nope. Even used the claw to try to break through it.
Made a whole with a screwdriver that was no help.
Using a huge kitchen knife I managed a slightly bigger hole after about an hour.
Tried the flashlight again to only find the space was, of course, empty.
While down on the floor flat on my gut, exhausted and out of ideas I feel breathing in my ear. Keena was standing there like “what are you doing!?” She gets bored with me and jumps on the bed for a nap. While still wondering where the heck Sabeen was, the closet door made a noise and here she comes out of the closet from the smallest little bit the door was open. She apparently was sleeping and too comfy to be bothered as she yawned in my face and proceeded downstairs to nap on the couch. I learned that day cats can fit in amazing places and size doesn’t matter. the cat’s or the space’s.
That was almost 14 years ago and they are both still with me, still are not friends and live on different floors of the house. The bed is long gone and I never fixed the hole.
Once the herd got lose and we got phone calls from a bunch of people that sighted them around the road and were worried they would run in front of a car. So we grabbed a bunch of lead ropes and ran off looking for the rouge horses. But after half an hour of panicked running around and not finding a single hair of them we got a call from the barn. Of course the herd had just circled the block and went back home -_-
***
Before I bought my first horse I half-leased a Standardbred who coliced on a regular bases and sometimes quite badly. When I had had my new mare for a few months I noticed she was pawing her stomach and when I listened to it, it was quiet. So of course I promptly panicked!!! At the time I was boarding at a hippodrome with a vet clinic so I took my horse and went to the clinic but all the vets were out. Long story short, I continued to run around the place with my horse on the lead rope all panicky, asking around, calling people who could help. Finally I broke down flummoxed and with tears in my eyes in front of one of the stables. A friendly stable hand came out to cheer me up: “actually your horse looks fine, look she’s eating grass”. And sure enough, her belly was satisfyingly growling again and she was totally fine. Plus just at that moment, to prove the stable hand’s point – she put down a healthy pile of manure. Must have been all the walking around that did it.
I have two stories – an airedale puppy, and my gelding Pad the Man.
When my heart-dog Lovely Rita was 2.5 yrs old, I found her a puppy: her breeder had planned to keep a pup by the same sire, but had decided to downsize. Since she knew this puppy would have a great home, she practically gave the 12 wk old little demon to me. I didn’t have her home even 24 hours when she disappeared. She’d wriggled out between the fence pole and the house, and was nowhere to be found. I went up and down the street, then went in to get my keys, intending to do a drive-around even if it took me a week to find her.
As I headed back into the house, there she was – huddled up on the back step, scared to death. The Lovely Rita had tracked her a few hundred yards, but then became either bored or confused and gave up. Ellie had found her way home… and I avoided a heart attack AND permanent shunning by the dogs’ breeder and a host of other ‘dog friends’.
One night, a neighbor called about 3 am to tell me my ‘brown horse’ was in her front yard and perhaps I might want to come get him. I got dressed, and headed out… in a tizzy becuase I knew it would be tough to see my ‘brown horse’ in the pitch darkness… plus he might be resistant to the idea of coming off the neigbhor’s lush grass. Much to my suprise and delight, as soon as he heard me come out the door — here he came!
Now I PAD-lock the PADdock.. because Pad the Man (Highlander’s Paddy) has very, very clever lips.
When I was really little – maybe 4ish – we had two cats and two parakeets. The parakeets lived in a cage way up high and away from everything so that cats couldn’t climb or jump to get to them (we thought). One day my family returned home to find the cage on the floor, the door open, feathers everywhere and two cats lounging lazily on the sofa, looking rather satisfied and proud of themselves. We were so upset and I remember crying and helping my parents pick up feathers to put in the trash when my mom said “what’s that noise?” We all froze and stood quietly and listened, didn’t hear anything, returned to work, and then again “wait–what’s that noise?” My mom said she thought she heard a tiny tweet. We started looking for the birds and eventually found them both hiding unter the sofa! Other than a few missing feathers (which looked worse on the floor than it actually was) the birds were perfectly fine.
Then a few years later we had a hamster, and pretty much the same story repeated. We thought her cage was out of reach from the cats but came home to find the cage on the floor, no hamster in sight. We worried she’d become lunch for the cat, but kept hoping she was just hiding somewhere and maybe we’d catch a glimpse of her. Several days later, we found her in the kitchen pantry where she’d chewed through some bags of food and was thoroughly enjoying herself. Smart girl!
BTW I was very young then and I no longer try to mix having cats with having birds and small rodents, so no worries =) Although I do occasionally bring wild ones home to rehab and set free (most recently, a poisoned rat!) but I keep them in a room that the other pets are completely closed off from.
We took my then 9 month old rottweiler puppy camping with us. She normally doesn’t pull her nose away from my knee or let me out of her sight, so she was allowed to roam loose in our camp area. We had a whole crew of friends and family with 3 campsites chained together. At about 9 pm, I noticed that my puppy was not nearby. I called her and called her, no Chamois. I checked the other campsites, checked to see if she was with one group of kids or another. No Chamois. I was really starting to panic. It was dark and very difficult to see a black dog. I was terrified that she had wandered into someone else’s camp and they had her locked up. After searching all the campsites in our area, and the forest behind our campsite for another hour, I was getting cold and went back to our tent to get a jacket. When I opened our tent flap, Chamois popped her head up! She had decided that she was tired and put herself to bed on our air mattress. While I was having a heart attack thinking that my beloved puppy was gone for good, she was right there in camp like she was supposed to be.
Had to laugh at the cabinet thing. I got my first cat when I was five or six. We brought her home & started getting her set up in her temporary digs in the bathroom. We left for a minute to grab her water bowl, and by the time we came back she’d disappeared. We finally found her after a lot of frantic running around. She apparently felt the towel cabinet was more comfy than the linoleum floor.
I’d ridden my horse for about 2 hours during the summer. She was in shape and I was working her, getting ready for a barrel race. I pulled my tack, hosed her off and put her away. After I put my tack away, I noticed that she was standing outside her stall, looking in, and she had pee’d on her mat where I feed her (this from the horse that will not poop or pee in her stall EVER). The urine had pooled and looked bloody. I grabbed a big syringe, filled it with urine, and rushed to the vet. Even in the syringe, it looked bloody. After two days of worry, no riding, no turnout, the vet called. Only urine. No blood. She was just a little dehydrated after her workout. By the time I got the results, she was back to normal and had missed three days of conditioning.
We “lose” our cat all the time haha
At the moment all I can think of is my friend being paranoid that there would be a barn fire, and demanded her horse be stabled closest to the door so he could escape xD There was never a fire there, but it’s still a good story.
Oh! And the time my horse didn’t whinny when I came to see him! I thought he had colic or was dead or something… when really, I had the time wrong and he was out in the pasture
Slightly OT, but it does include a moment of panic…
A kid asked me if I thought she could ride her pony on the trail ride. She had been nursing him after he stepped on a nail and got an abscess, and he was pretty well healed. I told her she could come, but would have to get off and lead him home if he started to limp. Since she was a good kid, I trusted her to do so. There were 10 or 11 kids on the ride.
Sure enough, right at the point where we turned around to go home, he started to limp. She got off and led him.
Within 5 minutes, half the horses were limping on the same foot. Including mine.
And people think horses are dumb!
Oh – another story. Freckles, our QH mare, has gotten cast twice. Once in her run (pipe and cable) and once in the arena (corral panels). Both times she waited for us to find her and fix her. I have developed a suspicion, though. She’s a bit of an escape artist, so we always clip the chains on the gates to the runs.
One day, I was drinking my coffee and talking on the phone, when I realized there was a horse in the front yard, right by the porch. It was Freckles. I caught her and went to put her back – and her gate was still shut, chained, and clipped. The empty run next to her was wide open, though. Had she slipped under the cable into the next run?
I still don’t know. But I suspect.
Ruthie
I was taking a shower when it occurred to me “OH NO I left the dog out on the porch sleeping on the bench!!!!!!” Threw on some pajamas, went to the porch, no dog. Ran frantically around the yard calling him. No dog. Shoved my feet into my shoes and started searching the subdivision (did I mention I was also a little bit drunk?). Asking everyone I saw “have you seen a black dog with white paws and a white bib??” Everyone answered “no” to the crazy lady in her pajamas and flip flops, with wet, unbrushed hair. Returned home, hysterical at the fact that I had lost my VERY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD (did I mention that he’s a pit bull and I was convinced that someone had stolen him for dog fighting??). Walked, sobbing, up onto the porch and there he stood in the house, looking at me through the screen door. Where had he been?? Well, in our living room closet there is a cat door that goes out into the garage so our 7 cats can have access to their litter boxes and food, which are in the garage. While I was taking a shower, Otis had squashed himself through the cat door to go out and see what his kitties were doing in the garage. I would not have believed that he could shove himself through such a small opening, but after discovering that he could, we had to purchase a pet gate with a VERY SMALL cat door in it to keep him out of the garage. I cannot even describe my relief when I saw my big waggy goofball looking at me through that screen door…
I have another one. I worked at this research facility as a college student cleaning, feeding, checking on animals, etc… Well we had a group of pigs. I walked into the study room one morning shortly after the trail began and the floor, white walls, pen bars, ceiling, toys, and pigs were all covered in scarlet red blood. I dropped the feed scoop and rushed over to see who had bled out. Sometimes pigs can be very aggressive towards each other and will play fight and bite at each other, and even thou this group had been together with no problems for weeks already I checked each animal closely for cuts. Just as I was finishing with the forth and last I looked over at the feeder which was the worst of the area only to discover it was the trail feed diet they were on. They were feeding cranberries in the diet and it had died everything a deep red. We never could get the stain off the walls and eventually just painted new enamel over it. They were very happy piggies, they really really like that stuff!
The first pony I was paired with was a white 14.3 Connemara. He was a push button, he was smart, and he was a character! He was also an escape artist. When ever every one piled in the car and left the property he would escape from his paddock (which had a wood fence with two wooden plank rails) I had heart failure every time we came back to the barn and he was out. Each time he escaped the fence would be inspected and there would be no opening to be found. He was smart, never made his escape when people were at the barn but once the cars left the driveway he would get out — over and over again.
The first clue was the grass stains. One day we decided to set him up. We piled into the car but this time I got out at the top of the driveway and doubled back to spy on him. A few minutes passed and he walked to the low part of the paddock. There water and horses hooves had eroded the ground along the fence. He lowered himself and rolled under the lowest rail free to eat the greener grass on the other side. Thus the grass stains from the roll to freedom. I laughed out loud and when he looked back at me his expression said DARN I’M BUSTED. Fence was adjusted — his game was over.
What fun stories!
I have a lovebird that I let out of his cage daily and he sits on my shoulder and taunts the cats (who are mortified of him). One year the boyfriend and I are getting ready to go to the beach house for a week. Boyfriend is packing the car. I am making salads. It’s midnight. At some point, boyfriend comes in and says, “honey, the bird was on my shoulder when I went to the garage and he flew away before I could get in the house.” I start freaking out and boyfriend starts seeing his week at the beach going up in flames. I go outside and start screaming the bird’s name which is ……Puck. At the top of my lungs, at midnight, in my ‘reserved’ neighborhood. PUCK, PUCK, PUCK…. I did find him on the neighbors roof, he flew down to me and came back inside, no neighbor called the cops on the crazy lady screaming profanity at the top of her lungs in the middle of the night and boyfriend and I did get a vacation. Though I have never let the boyfriend live down the fact that he tried to ‘free’ the bird, get me arrested and go on vacation alone all in one fell swoop!
Several years ago, I lived in a small apartment. We adopted 3 stray kittens who had wandered up and kept them inside. Well, one day the male kitten came up missing. We looked everywhere for this cat and called and called and called until we had no voices left. We thought he had gotten outside into the field and we searched out there. We searched every nook and cranny inside the apartment with the two females looking at us like we had lost our minds. Finally we resigned ourselves that he was just gone for good and collapsed on the bed. Then we started hearing faint meowing. The search was on again! It sounded like it was coming from outside the kitchen, but there was nothing there. Exasperated, i opened the fridge to get a drink and out jumps that damn cat! Somehow, he had managed to slip in there while someone had the door open and he had been munching on the steak I was going to cook that night! GRRRR! He was extremely happy to be let out though and had obviously been in there for quite some time judging by how cold he was.
My biggest scare was only a couple months after adopting one of my cats, Todd, from a rescue. Todd doesn’t meow. He never has. Once in a blue moon, he’ll let out a barely audible squeak, but that’s it. So anyway, one morning I woke up and started preparing the cats’ breakfast, but I quickly noticed that Todd wasn’t around. I called his name (he’s not deaf), I looked, and no Todd. My boyfriend got up and started helping me search, and we searched every nook and cranny, and no Todd. That’s when I discovered that I had forgotten to lock my front door that night, and I started to go into panic mode – he magically learned how to turn doorknobs and open terribly heavy doors, or someone stole my cat (very far fetched, I know, but I was freaking out). We looked for HOURS. We went outside and looked in bushes. We talked to neighbors. No Todd. Finally we stood in the kitchen trying to figure out what to do, when we heard a little sound near the fridge – could just be fridge noises, but we were grasping at straws here. Nope, not in the fridge. We call his name… and we hear the faint tapping sound again. We go into the laundry room right on the other side of the fridge, call his name… faint tapping, but no cat. We’re about to just chalk it up to house noises when my boyfriend suddenly saw something out of the corner of his eye – it was Todd! He had gone into the tiny space between the water heater and the corner of the laundry room and was stuck. I pulled him out and he was purring like his life depended on it. Wow-ee, that was a scare. If only he would meow!
My then-boyfriend (now husband) and I had recently moved into a new apartment in the
middle of town, at the intersection of 2 busy roads. I was getting ready for work one
day and realized I hadn’t seen my cat, Saydie, in a while. I was uneasy about leaving
because I knew I would obsess about it until I got home, so I went looking for
her….and I couldn’t find her anywhere! We looked EVERYWHERE but she was nowhere to
be found! It was the middle of summer and the only door that was ever closed (and
separating Saydie from certain death) was our apartment door. We searched the halls in
the building but couldn’t find her anywhere. We checked outside and couldn’t find her
there either. At that point, I got a call from my employer who informed me if I didn’t
leave for work right then, not to bother coming back. It KILLED me to leave, but I had
to go. I ran up to our apartment to grab my stuff and I heard something in the kitchen
closet. I opened the door and there she was!!!! She had snuck in and figured out that
she could move a little panel in the back and get inside the wall!!!! My hubby
promptly nailed that panel in place! lol
I have another one about Sayd, but it’s more of a close call. Saydie yawned one day
and I noticed a white patch in the back of her throat (this was on Valentine’s Day,
too!!). I promptly brought her to the vet. He took a look at it and said it looked
like squamous cell carcinoma. I was TOTALLY devestated. We’re talking sobbing, barely
able to stand devestated!! I’ve had her since I was 16 and she’s been with me through
thick and thin. She is my BABY. My mom loves this cat, too, and brought both of us to
a specialty clinic on the other end of the state. To this day, I don’t know why she
paid over $1,000 for this kitty (my dad died of cancer when I was 13, so that may have
been a factor). Saydie had a biopsy done and the doc came back and said it WASN’T
cancer!! I cried again cuz I was so relieved! It was like getting my best friend back!
It turned out to be an auto-immune disorder. That was around 7 years ago and (knock on
wood!!) she’s still going strong!
My bad on the double-spacing. I typed it in notepad while I was waiting for my login info (I just signed up) and then I copied and pasted. Sorry bout that!!
Oh, this is a great thread. This little gem cost me $350.00.
At the time of this story, I took care of my elderly parents at night and my sister stayed with them during the day. Fortunately for me, my “almost rescue dog” got to stay home with my sister, mother, and my sister’s dog while I am at work. A little note on my “almost rescue dog” – when I got her she was scared of everything. If you looked at her cross-eyed she would hit the dirt on her back. I think someone must have used a shock collar on the sweet, little passive thing because beeping type noises were upsetting to her as were other noises like clicking sounds, etc. She is such a “soft” dog. Very sad. She is so much better than when I got her. Anyway, back to the story. It normally worked out really well for her to stay home while I was at work, but not “that” day. I left for work in the morning and my dog was fine when I left. My sister called me around noon.
S – “Was Pixie okay when you left this morning?”
Me – “Yeah. Why? What is she doing?”
S- “She is acting really weird. She is panting like mad and keeps wandering from room to room like she can’t get comfortable. She’s getting up on the furniture and when mom was in the bathroom she about scratched the door down to get in there.”
Me – “How long has this been going on?”
S- “Probably for 30 minutes. I’m a little afraid dad might have dropped one of his pills and she might have eaten it. She is just a mess and can’t stop. I can’t think of any other reason for her to be acting like this. It’s not like it is thundering or lightening outside.”
Me – “You know. Just call the vet because that is really abnormal behavior for her. I am stuck in something right now, but when I can get loose I’ll come by and pay the bill.”
So, that is what we did. Only I got over there before the vet finished looking at her. By the time they got there she seemed somewhat better. They really couldn’t find anything. They took an x-ray to make sure she had not swallowed something, and, of course, it was normal. By the time I got there she was looking a lot better. Normal, in fact. The only thing the vet could figure out was that for some odd reason she must have had really bad gas pains. She sent her home and just said to keep her close so we could watch her and if something else happened to take her back or if it was after hours to take her to the emergency animal clinic. My sister took the dog home and I went back to work. I was almost at my office when my sister called and solved the mystery with one question. “Where is your pager?” I left my pager at home that day by accident and it evidently went off. The problem is that it beeps once every 60 seconds until you check it. My dog heard it beeping, but evidently my sister didn’t. She said as soon as she went in the living room she heard my pager beep and my dog started freaking out again.
Ha, just had another thought, also about Todd my cat – he is missing an eye (bad herpes infection before he was rescued, eye was destroyed and I had it removed). He is prone to eye infections in the remaining eye if I don’t keep him on L-Lysine. Anyway, he was starting to show early signs of an an eye infection last summer so I brought him to my vet, and her very young assistant opened his carrier door to get him out, and she immediately gasped and took a step back – “Ohmygosh! It’s so infected it’s completely crusted shut!” and my reaction was like “OHMYGOD! It was only a little red when we left the house!” until I realized that she was looking at his missing eye – then me and the vet started cracking up as we explained to the girl what was up with that, haha!
When I was a kid, my brother once came into my room with something black in his arms (my cat Panther is black) and he goes “here’s Panther!” and chucked it as hard as he could across the room, and I leaped up screaming – it was a wadded up pair of black sweatpants >:(
I had this sweet and mischievous (but dumb as a rock) little tabby cat named Jasper several years ago. He would make toys out of ANYTHING.
I was home from college babysitting the cats while my parents were out somewhere else, and the house is quiet, and I’m somewhat contentedly studying for finals. While I’m not a scaredy-type, I do pay extra attention to the house sounds when I’m alone there. I hear a faint *clinkety clink clink* and some scrabbling. Of course, my first thought is “Someone’s picking a lock, where are my sai?”
I go investigating, and Jasper goes tearing ahead of me, scrabbling across the floor in a tizzy. He was an anxious cat and spooked easily, so seeing him so scared got me more wound up. I hear the noise again. *clinkclink*
I cannot find the source of the noise, and with Jasper showing up once in a while with his tail completely puffed out and eyes so big you could barely see the iris, I was pretty sure I was being stalked through the house by a robber or someday. I had just put my hand on my cell phone to call 911 when I hear the metal skittering noise again, and then my cat made a hooting noise. His happy and pleased-with-himself noise. *Clinkety CLINK CLAK*
Needless to say, my head snapped around pretty quickly. “You DAMN cat! What are you DOING?!” I finally tracked him to the upstairs bathroom and found him running around the tub, literally on the walls of it. He had pulled the little metal drain strainer out of the bathroom sink and was chasing and swatting it around the porcelain tub with all he had in his little kitty heart. Every half minute or so, he’d leap out of the tub and go tearing around the house, delirious with joy (not fright, as I thought earlier) and then return to the tub and repeat the whole process. While I could hardly stay angry at him, it did take me a few moments to calm down.
From that day on, whenever the sink strainer went missing, we knew to always look in the tub or at the bottom of the stairs for it. Jasper even discovered my mom’s stash of extra strainers and managed to make all of THOSE go missing for a while. I really miss that cat, despite the heart attacks he gave me!
My second story — when I finally had a horse of my own at my own home. About a quarter of a mile down the road I have axcess to a wonderful trail system. As a teenager I would ride for two or three hours winding my way through trails and fields. When I would get back to the road I would always dismount, run up the stirrups, loosen the girth, keep the reins over his neck and walk the quarter of a mile home to cool him down. We always played games on the way home. He followed me every where. I would zig, he would zig, I would zag, he would zag, I would jog, he would jog, I would back up, he would back up — all without holding the reins. It was pretty safe the country road is banked with stonewalls on either side — the only openings were driveways. When I turned into my driveway he would always follow… until one late fall day.
It had started to get darker earlier and it was that rare occasion where I had to be somewhere to meet friends an hour after the ride. I made the right turn into the driveway — he went straight down the road. First at a trot, then a canter and made a sharp left onto my neighbor’s yard (whose lawn was kept like a golf course) and he proceeded to tear ass across the property. My heart was in my throat until I caught him — fearing he would go out in the road and get hit — thank you God I caught him. The ultimate punishment was it took me hours (with a flashlight) to try to repair my neighbors lawn divot by divot — the lawn was water soaked on a fall New England day — YUCK!. I kept laughing thinking of the “screw you” look he gave me when he did not make the turn into the driveway. Anyone who says horses do not have a sense of humor or character — should have met him!
Another catnip story. I hate to be awakened from a good sleep (which I rarely get), and everybody knows it. It was a few weeks before Christmas and not a creature was stirring; it was about 2:00 am. Suddenly, I woke up to rustling of gift wrap. In the pitch dark, I assumed one of my kids had come into my bedroom to peek for presents. I sat up in bed and said something possibly a little harsher than, “What in the world do you think you are doing?” No answer, so I turned on the light. A pair of eyes shone out from the large box of presents I had been packing for my out of state family. A wrapped and shrink wrapped kitty toy for my sister’s cat was demolished – way down in the bottom of the box. My kitty got a slightly used toy that Christmas.
“But mooooooom, it just HAD to be for me! I’m the only kitty in your world, right?”
Definitely good timing for this post!!
It’s bitterly cold here in PA, winds whipping around, everyone is just miserable. So I went out to work to check on the ponies, muck stalls, feed, etc. last night (very dark out), trying to stay in the barn as long as possible. I’d worked it out that I would have to make only a couple of trips outside- one to spread the muck in the woods, and another to bring the horses in. After I did my muck run, I warmed up in the tack room for a few minutes before venturing out again to call the horses in and let them into their stalls. When I whistle and call for them, they usually show up after five minutes or so, sometimes meandering in, sometimes galloping in. I’d thought that because it was freakin’ cold out, they’d come in sooner rather than later (although they’re blanketed at the moment). Five minutes, then ten minutes, then fifteen minutes passed, and despite repeated whistles and calls, they still hadn’t shown up. Cursing those damned horses, I trudged out into the field with a good idea of where they’d be (probably at the other end of the field). It’s freakin’ dark out, but besides the horses and the water trough, there’s nothing really to run into, so I just went out there without a flashlight. Big mistake. Did I mention that a big black horse with a heavy blanket on walking towards you at night with no moon or stars looks an awful lot like a black bear? I didn’t? Well… the “bear” blew some air out of its nostrils, convincing me even more that it had eaten all of the horses and was going to eat me next. So I decided that the only logical thing to do would be to try to scare it off. So I waved my arms around and stomped at it a few steps. But it kept coming. I was in the middle of the field, and had no clue what to do other than run. So I did. I hightailed it across the field heading for the barn, and heard it running behind me. Then I heard a lot more “bears” running behind me. Convinced I was going to die, I looked over my shoulder and saw the whole freaking herd (well, it’s only a herd of five horses) had decided that this running game I was playing was fun, and was galloping towards the barn with me. Fortunately, they minded their manners and didn’t get within twenty or so feet of me with their running, bucking, and farting antics. And they didn’t give me any of the problems I usually have bringing them in, they all patiently waited at the right stalls for me to open the doors and let them in. Gah. They give me gray hairs!
We were having a LAN party at our house, and in the interests of conserving space for all those computers we flipped the loveseat upside down and placed it on top of the couch in such a way they formed a tall rectangle. I’d gone to the store for food and drinks, and when I returned, not only were there more people there, but my cat wasn’t in sight. Seeing as she is a hefty 14.5lbs and very sociable, I started to get worried. I scoured the house, looked in cabinets, checked the bathtub (a regular haunt) and called around outside.
I was nearly panicked at this point, as she is an indoor only cat (and with her weight, not so great at climbing trees to escape danger). Scanning the living room one last time, I got a sneaking suspicion about those stacked couches. Sure enough, when I peered into the dark tunnel made by the two couches, there she was, curled into a little ball and sound asleep.
My cat Sneaker (a.k.a Spanky Butt, Little Miss Fuzzy Britches, and Pain In The A**) used to spend winter days sleeping on our bed under the covers. One day I came home from work and went to change clothes and pet the lump in the bed only there was no lump! “Kitty, kitty” I called, no response so I look in the bathroom, no kitty, closet, no kitty, litter box, no kitty, office, no kitty, basement, no kitty, under the beds, no kitty, check the litter box, no kitty.
Back in the bedroom to check the closet once more and decided to make the bed, throw back the covers and there’s kitty stuck between the foot board and mattress. She had wiggled so far under the covers that she fell off the edge. She’s thirteen now and can’t jump up on the bed by herself anymore, thank goodness! I know I looked like an idiot bent over, holding the door to the litter box open and saying “Kitty, kitty?”
We had just bought a new house and I was inspecting the kitchen and had my trusty Jack Russell beside me. Well I went to another room with my hubby not paying any mind where my dog was. Well about an hour later I realized my dog wasn’t tagging behind me on my heels so I called for her. She was no where to be found and I was getting panicked, it was late evening and coyotes are starting to howl. So I hear this faint , woof, woof woof! For life of us we can’t find her but we could hear her. I was thrashing the hell out of every room trying to find her and my hubby was outside looking into everything. Well I decided to look in the cupboards for some strange reason because that was the only place I hadn’t looked and there behind door number one was my baby Buttons! She sneaked into the cupboard looking for mice and the door closed behind her , at least that is what I think happened , but it scared the bejesus out of me. Gawd I love my babies and my little humans too ! LOL!
I was having a house built in the country, and tradesmen were in and out the door all day. At a certain point, I realized that I hadn’t seen my cats, litter mates Clancy and Foxy, for a while. I scoured the house, looking under and behind what bits of furniture I then had three times over, all the while thinking, “Oh me, if they’ve gotten out, they might be grabbed by a hawk or fox or racoon, my sweeties!” I was getting pretty squirrelly with worry, but then a light bulb went on in my head. I recalled that during the night, I had heard a faint metallic scuffling noise in the region of the kitchen. Now, it’s important at this point in the story to know that construction was at the pre-drywall stage; you could literally walk through the walls! That also meant that the back of the stove was accessible. And what do you know, there was an opening back there, just big enough for a little cat, or two, to creep inside. I peered in, but it was too dark in there to see. So I stepped into the kitchen, knelt down, and, on a hunch, opened the warming oven. Sure enough, two pairs of big green eyes peered up at me – two little cats had found the perfect haven amid all the chaos, clever little darlings. So what else could I do but gently close the oven and leave them in peace.
Oh another quick funny one here. I was in a very deep sleep last night and about 3:57 am I jumped out of bed because I hear a horse whinnying. my husband wakes up from my jolt up right out of the covers leap and asks what the hell is wrong. So I tell him I think the damn sneaky mare got out , I hear the stallion nickering. Well I put my jammies on run out in my sexy wellies with bed head and squint around the pastures only to find no loose mare only a stallion laying in his shed having a wet dream . OMG! he was just talking to himself and rubbing the ground folks! I am not kidding! I burst out laughing and scared the shit out of him and he flew to his feet and shook his head like he had just been caught! honestly! Went back to bed laughing and my hubby just burst into hysterics as well. Who would have thought a stallion would have a himself a wet dream.. fricken unbelievable…..
One weekend I was taking care of the neighbor’s BIG golden retreiver, Jake. We were leaving to head to town for a bit, and Jake being a house dog, we left him in the house. Get home an hour or so later, open the door and NO DOG! I said, where could he have gone, the doggy gate is still up, he’s not anywhere in our tiny little house! So we go outside and start calling him, my next door neighbor hollers over across the pasture, “I think he’s over here!”. So walk up their driveway to find Jake, covered 2/3rds in mud, just the top of his back was still clean. Jake had gone out my cat’s door, plenty big enough for a cat or little dog, but NOT a BIG golden retreiver! Sure enough, he had squeezed himself out that door and had gone next door for a bit of a mud bath. Neighbor’s had no idea where this dog had come from, even though he lives behind them. He’s usually in the house, so no one really knows this dog. So, fortunately it was a warm summer day, he got a nice cold hose bath in the yard. Never, ever would have thought he could get through that little door.
Let’s set the stage: weeks on foal watch, my partner-in-crime was away for the weekend so I was alone, plus I had to work my full time job during the daytime but get home after dark.
My mare Kharrie foaled late that night, everything was fine. I do my stuff, go to work. Come home- my filly is gone. Mare is content, not freaking or anything. I look in the stalls, I grab the flashlight, running like a loony through the fields- still no filly! I call my friend, crying… (like she can help 1000 miles away) I STILL can’t find her! By now I’m close to hysterical- WHERE IS SHE? I happen to look in the pen attached to the mare barn- the filly is in THERE with another mare! I pick her up under one arm and put her back with her Mom who goes “Oh, THERE you are!” Filly was thirsty but fine!
The filly must have crawled out UNDER the stall door, squeezed through the gate to the outside, then squeezed into the pen with the other mare! We fixed the stall, they can’t fit under it anymore.
The wierd thing was two nights later Maddie foaled – I missed that foaling, as she didn’t look anything like ready. That filly looked so much like Kharrie’s foal that I almost snatched her up and put her back with Kharrie, except when I looked HER filly was still with her!
We have three gerbils, who stay in the bedroom I share with my sister. A couple months ago, my sister comes running up and says, “Come see what the gerbils did!” So I follow her, and see that the gerbils have chewed a gerbil-sized hole in the cage lid, which was made with window screen (yes, I’m cheap sometimes). They managed to jump on top of the water bottle and somehow contort themselves to be able to chew on it.
So I’m looking at the lid and wondering what the heck we’re going to do now, when I look at the gerbils. One, two…oh crap. After double-checking to make sure gerbil #3 was not hiding somewhere in the cage, I start to panic a little. We have four cats and a dog, all of whom like to chase rodents, and I hadn’t checked the gerbils for several hours, so I had no idea how long the gerbil had been missing.
I’m gently trying to break the news to my sister, who’s eleven, that we may not find the gerbil. But, I help her set up a ‘gerbil trap’ and close off the room, just in case.
About five minutes later, she’s yelling, “Come quick! I think I heard him!” I get in the room and ask where. “Under your bed,” she says, pointing in the furthest corner. Great. So I pull all my crap from under my bed, and up pops a little gerbil head, with this cute, innocent ‘Who, me?’ expression on his face. I manage to grab him eventually, and back into the cage he goes (complete with temporary, chew-proof lid). So gerbil will live to make mischief another day.
Speaking of lost cats …
I had been looking all day for one of our barn cats, Starling, with no success. Then I saw the body, about 1/4 mile down the road from our driveway. His body was mangled but yes, it was my brown tabby cat with white boots. Sadly, I wrapped him in a blanket, carried him home, and buried him in the hole my husband dug.
As we patted the last mound of earth on top of the grave, a very very alive Starling wandered over to see what interesting thing we were doing.
To this day, I have no idea whose cat is actually buried in our pet cemetery!
Something similar happened with an old barn cat where I first rode… we found a poor and mangled Murphy, spotted coat and all, and we three kids buried him sadly.
An hour later, Murphy strolls into the barn. One of the girls who helped us bury “him” actually screamed and jumped on top of her locker when she saw the cat and it sank in. I’m not superstitious, but I’m pretty sure this cat had nine lives for real, because this happened once more with the same result. Bury Murphy, resurrect Murphy!
We never found out which (strangely similarly spotted) cats we buried. But it’s funny to think that it really was him!
I was lonely living for the first time on my own and thought it would be a nice idea to get a hamster. I had owned hamsters my whole life, among other, more difficult animals to raise, so I figured it would be a nice, easy animal to be my companion. Plus, he hid in residence very well. I have never owned a more difficult, stubborn, individual animal before.
The first week I came home and found him stiff, on his back, water dripping on him, mouth open, tongue out, little paws frozen in the air. I shed a few tears, prepared a coffin, and wondered what the hell had happened. I had poked him before to make sure he was really dead then reached in to pick him up. Little bugger jumped to life the second I touched him and gave me a dirty look for waking him up!
I would block off the bathroom to let him run around while I showered. One day I could not find him anywhere. After about an hour I head some little claw sounds behind the sink. This is a new house, the sink is firmly sealed all around. The only possible access would be through the inside of the cabinet where the pipes go into the walls, however this was blocked by heavy cabinet doors and the fact it’s about two feet off the ground with no way to climb up. I was certain he was going to die and I would have to hear him slowly starve to death. As a last ditch effort I pried the vent along the wall off. It was a straight drop down but I could sort of see far enough to where the back of the cabinet opened into the vent system. Little bugger poked his head out to look at me. I took a carrot and extended it to him. he latch on and I carefully pulled him to safety as he dangled by his teeth over the sheer drop.
Come home once to find his “Hamster Proof” cage, a cage I’ve used with THREE OTHER HAMSTERS WHO HAVE NEVER ESCAPED open. Figured that was the end of poor Joey. Three days later I go down to check the water heater. Who peer out at me, a little thin, a little feral, and a little beat up? Carrot trick worked again.
Keep in mind, this all happened in a span of THREE WEEKS.
Guy learned how to a) open every hamster lock b) a hamster ball, both by twisting so it went in half and by opening the proper opening. He lived peacefully in residence with me for a year and learned all these tricks but never got far. When he lived with me at my mom’s house he lived in a steel rat cage with a stiff spring loaded door. However, he never dared to escape from that because he quite enjoyed taunting the three warm blooded cats that lived right outside the bars.
Fastforward another year, he’s old, blind and still tough as nails. He had one of those new Ovo Habitrail cages because he was too stressed in a regular cage. Now, my roommates don’t know I have him. I don’t know if anyone has ever used the Ovo but I quite liked it as long as it had all the attachments. My personal one was a bugger to open so I figured I had finally found a Joey-proof cage. Came home one day. Cage door, open, four foot drop to the floor, no hamster in sight. I freak out because I have just moved in, don’t know these new roommates and my old, blind hamster had nearly walked off my lap the night before because he’s fearless and doesn’t seem to care he’s blind. I search my room frantically, to no avail. I’m certain he’s in one of my animal-phobic roommate’s. Suddenly, who strolled out from the dirty laundry pile, yawning and hearing my voice. He runs over to me, blind as a bat and bumping into everything but pretty much going “K, had last adventure, time to return.”
Sigh. Most interesting and unforgettable hamster I’ve ever owned.
This past summer, I had suffered a series of acts of vandalism — trash thrown in the yard – three times – my house egged, and finally a noose left on feed bags stacked in my carport — of course the police had no leads despite my having seen the egg throwers running down the street flinging egg cartons and bags as they ran– “Can’t get prints off egg cartons and plastic bags, lady.” (Really? Where is CSI when you need them?)
Anyway, I had taken to sitting in my parked car in my side yard (especially on weekend nights) with a flashlight, my cell phone and car keys in the ignition — at the ready to “bust” any vandals that came back, myself.
Now, it is awfully hot in Louisiana in the summer, so I had doused myself in bug spray, and had the window down to try to catch some faint breeze. It is also awfully quiet in a little town of about 1,500 – especially after midnight– except for the crickets, locusts and frogs.
I heard the hoofbeats on the blacktop before I actually saw the horse run by– at a dead run straight up the street toward the courthouse square and the state highway that runs through town about four blocks to the north. I got just a glimpse of the horse’s dark head and neck from my stakeout position in the car (the street is lower than my property) as it sped by — coming from from the south– where I have another pasture leased about a quarter mile from my house. A pasture with four horses– all dark– bays and blacks.
As I started the car and dialed 911, I heard my horses in the back pasture behind the house all start to whinny and run — they had heard the horse too. I thought maybe they could even smell it, and had recognized it as a horse they knew. I headed north toward the courthouse and highway the way the hose had run, but couldn’t find the horse. I even drove through the parking lot of the school next door to try to see if the horse had run along my north fence on that property– my former place of employment– and the suspected source of the vandals. No horse.
Then I drove south to my other pasture to check on the horses there. Both gates were closed and the inner gate padlocked– just as if had left them. Well, that was a relief– no one had let any of mine out. I headed back toward my house and —- there in the shadows something big and dark was coming at me quickly. Then I saw the white blaze and two white socks. I slammed on the breaks, as a horse ran out in front of my lights ahd headed back toward the south– a dead end.
Meanwhile– where were the cops? (There are no donut shops or all-night diners here– the town rolls up th sidewalks at 11 pm, when the Sonic closes.) I decided to drive north to the three-way stop where another street deadends into mine, and park my car across the street with the headlights pointing slightly toward the south — where I hoped the horse would stay until help arrived.
After just a couple of tense minutes– here he came– running back– shoes striking sparks on the gravel in the blacktop as he ran– and just as I had hoped — he slowed — and stopped –blinded by my lights on bright. He stood steaming and blowing– yes, steam was rising from him despite the 80 plus temp. (It gets hot and stays hot in Louisiana during August.)
A bay horse with a blaze and two hind socks so wet he looked almost black. As luck would have it, he was wearing a halter with about 2 feet of raveled rope hanging from it. He had broken loose from somewhere — I inched toward him, and caught the rope about a foot down from the snap. He was totally wet, and the sweat was running down him while the steam rose. I had never seen a horse so soaked with sweat– his nostrils where wide open and red on the inside, and his ribs were working like a bellows. When he moved a foot, a wet outline of his hoof marked the pavement.
There we were– in the middle of the night in the middle of the street— waiting. Suddenly he raised his head, his eyes rolling in fear as he pulled back hard. (Easy horse, don’t try to run.) I saw the flashing red and blue lights bouncing off the back of the stop sign. I was thankful the cop hadn’t rolled up siren screaming as well. With one eye on the horse, I called out, but not too loudly — “Cut your lights –your lights — turn them off. Come here ahd help me hold this horse.” The officer got out of the car, reached in, turned off his lights and said, “I don’t know nothing about no horse. I just moved up here from Baton Rouge. But I called the horse catcher and he is on his way with a trailer. I’ll radio that he’s caught and where we are.”
The horse was getting his second or third wind and was antsy-dancy since the officer arrived. As the officer began walking toward us, I asked him to get the lead rope out of my car. “The what?” he asked. “The rope on the front seat of my car,” I responded. His radio crackled and he walked back to the car without giving me the rope– the horse had begin dancing, I began trying to talk to him and reassure him– “Easy, easy, easy, you’re going to be all right.” I hoped we both were. (Where is the animal warden -and his trailer- when you need him?)
The officer handed me the rope at arm’s length, and stepped back quickly. “That was dispatch.” he said. “That horse was tied in a lot when a pack of dogs went after him, down back of town in Reilyville. Neighbors saw it and called it in. The rope broke, and the horse ran off. Happened about 10 o’clock.” I snapped my lead on the halter – relieved that I now had some length- and started to look around for something I solid could loop the rope around. I knew I couldn’t hold him if he bolted.
“Glad the rope broke and not his neck,” I responded, stroking the horse’s hot wet ahoulder — his veins and arteries stood out under his shiny slick skin like a web of cords – his mane was plastered to his neck like someone had just hosed him down. He was still showing the whites of his eyes, and starting at every unfamiliar sound or any far-off dog bark.
The cop inched closer, walked down toward the horse’s rear, keeping about 20 feet away– he clicked on his flashlight, the horse spun to face him, draging me along. “I don’t know nothing about horses, but I think this is a boy horse ’cause he’s got balls,” he said.
“Turn off that light, you’re scaring him!” I said in my best you-better-listen-to-me teacher voice. (Great, now I’m in the middle of the road holding a scared stallion who was chased by a pack of dogs and has been running the roads for almost two hours– AND I’m with Officer Scared-shitless-and-I-don’t-know-nothing-about-no-horses, but-he’s-a-boy – who will be of no help at all if this horse bolts.)
Then I heard it, the chug-clatterchug of a diesel truck engine. The horse catcher, who thank the Lord, does know something about horses was easing his truck and trailer down the road with just the parking lights on. He could see us plainly in the glare of my lights, and had decided that stealth was the best approach. — Within seconds, he was prying my clenched hand from the lead rope. “You can let go now Miss Marcia, I got him now. I would have been here sooner but I had to get two goats out of a garden across town.”
Walter, the town animal warden, said it had been one busy night. Two goats in a garden, a heifer on the highway right-of-way, a pack of dogs causing trouble, and a horse running loose — who knows where– there had been at least 10 calls about the horse, all reporting his location as someplace else than where he really was.
I asked what would happen to the horse now. “Oh, I’ll take him back to my place. I know this horse and the owner. His name is Choctaw — the horse, not the owner. His owner is out of town for a son’s wedding. It wasn’t his fault a pack of dogs got after him. Johnnie just needs to fence in that lot. I’ll need to walk him some to cool him down first ‘fore I put him in a stall. Lucky you were out here to catch hold of him. Lucky horse, lucky horse. If he had got on the highway a big rig might have got him. Horses are way worse than cows about running out in front of traffic. Can I ask how you happened to be out here to catch him?” he asked as he loaded the horse up.
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” I said getting in my car to drive the half block home. (Lucky horse, lucky horse indeed. If it hadn’t been for those rotten teenaged vandals, I would have been home fast asleep– and who knows what would have happened to Choctaw?)
Note: Still no arrests made yet for the vandalism, and noose– but the police have their suspicions. And Choctaw and his owner looked great in the town Christmas parade.
(Sorry this turned out so long, but sure was the “BEST” animal scare I ever had.)
Pit Bull Panic at the Vet Hospital!
At the hospital at the SPCA I worked for, a sick Pit came in. Xrays brought all the vets and techs to the screen, aghast. The xray seemed to show an entire spinal column in the stomach. Many guesses- had the dog swallowed a cat, almost whole? A human baby??? No, turned out the owner fed the dog an oxtail and the dog swallowed the whole thing!
I have a cat, his name is Miata. He has brain damage from having a bullmastiff step on his head and breaks his jaw (accidentally) when Miata was 5-6 weeks old. Because of his brain damage (and because we live on a main road) he is a strictly indoor cat.
So about three weeks after I got him when he was about 14 weeks old I couldn’t find him ANYWHERE. I searched the entire house high and low, over and over, freaking out like no tomorrow. I checked all the places he liked to be and everywhere in between. Meanwhile, my dad was not concerned at all (“He’s just a cat, he’ll be fine.”) ANd I’m just thinking, OMG he got outside.
Right as I was about to launch a full blown search of the neighbourhood, my dad opens the fridge and there sits Miata, eating a cold potato. He must have gotten in the last time someone opened the fridge because he was so tiny.
Miata is now growing into a wonderfull coming-four year old.
Incidentally, I just got the bullmastiff that caused his injury! Bruno is about 130lbs, but should weigh 160lbs and has absesses on each cheek (nothing major, but regardless need to be drained), and is not neutered as he was supposed to be. His former owner, once he gets back to the city in about a week, is paying for neutering and any other necessary vet work (e.g- shots, neuter, cysts drained, the warts between some toes burned off, etc. all of which was supposed to already be done.) Did I mention that this poor, gentle, sweet as can be dog, who is 5 years old, has NEVER had a yard?!? I blame the SPCA here for that one, they don’t do homechecks or follow-ups. Sheesh. Sorry that rant was way OT.
I was cross-country skiing with friends in a state park. We parked the car and skied for a few hours to the top of a gentle mountain and then back. It was beautiful and untouched and the snow was great, dry and just fluffy enough to still get traction. The sun was sparkling on the snow and the trees were overloaded with a winter’s worth of white… well, you get the picture. Sugar, my husky mix, was bounding around having a great time. She would pounce head first into the soft snow like a fox hunting voles, come up with a face-full of snow, and bound off. Well, she pounced one time and her beautiful full tail was waving merrily… waving merrily… still waving merrily. What is she doing? I skied over, grabbed her tail firmly and pulled her out. It turns out there was a small creek under the snow and the snow was just rotten enough to let her front legs go through but the rest of her body was well supported by the snow. Like a child who falls head-first in a bucket, she couldn’t get herself out, and would have drowned if I hadn’t rescued her. And that merrily waving tail was frantic thrashing around with her back legs, trying to get some footing. I watched her like a hawk the rest of the trip—not that I had to, because she stayed very close
My cousin had a light-colored calico cat named Pussom, and Pussom lived to be very old. One day my cousin’s husband happened upon a light calico that had been hit by a car near the house. He brought the body home, gave it a decent burial in the backyard, and gravely informed the family that Pussom had been hit by a car. My aunt was devastated, as Pussom was probably 17 at the time. She walked into the kitchen, and the real Pussom jumped up onto the counter. She gathered up the venerable old kitty and walked into my grandmother’s bedroom, and my grandmother screamed. Later that day, my family came over to visit and the cat made an appearance. She meowed in her distinctive manner (kind of an “Aaaargh”) and my cousin’s husband mused “What do you think she’s saying?” My sister piped up, ” ‘Don’t bury me….’ “
I’ve had a hundred of those “Oh Shit No” moments, and every time it’s been Something. But often less serious than I thought—when my horse was a yearling he would get into everything. One early morning, I went out to throw hay to the horses before I’d even put my contact lenses in. My colt came running up, acting his usual feisty self, but kept spooking every time he tried to take a bite of hay. Weird—and his muzzle looked not exactly swollen, but like he’d grown a beard overnight. Could adolescent colts get hit by the Testosterone Stick quite like that??! I ran back inside, put in my contacts, and took a better look. His whole muzzle was covered with porcupine quills. He didn’t act like he was in pain at all–just pissed off that the muzzle full of quills prevented him from getting to his breakfast.
The vet took pictures for his files–he’d never seen that. We had a good laugh–until I got the vet bill.
this JUST happened!!!!!! On the weekend I went on a sunny but very cold wintery afternoon to visit my 15 year old OTTB horsie friend. He is always standing at the round bale munching away when I come to visit. But on this occasion I couldn’t see him, yet all his other buddies were standing around the hay looking semi-stunned. I get to the other side of the round bale, and he’s lying nestled in scattered hay looking up with his eyes part-closed and groaning and groaning. I tried to get him to stand but he simply would not so I sprinted back to the barn to call the BO and get someone to come look at him. So I returned to the paddock, two other barn ladies in tow and he’s just standing at the roundbale munching away with his buddies. Spoke to the BO and BO at his previous residence and apparently he does that once or twice a sunny wintery day, just enjoying the sunny warmth…while giving us all heart attacks.
The other night I was getting my son ready for a bath. I look down and see blood smudges all over the floor. I check my son’s bare feet. I run around look ing at dog paws…and finally my TINIEST dog “beaker” walks past leaving blood splotches. I am panicked sure she is missing a paw pad, needing sutures….I pick her up. She has pulled out a toenail and is bleeding from this tiny toe as it were her life source! I vet wrapped her and cleaned up blood. It was an injury, but with all the blood I saw I swore it was going to be worse…
Our older horse was laying flat on his side on a warm winter day. Scared me half to death because he never does that. But when I got closer, he was snoring. I think it was just a really good nap day because we had cold or wet days for about two weeks prior. Our AQHA gelding does this all the time, even in the pasture, so he never worries me but he does occasionally make cars slow down as they drive by. LOL!
Sure are a lot of comments, but I’ll bite, just ‘cuz its stupid and funny, but also not really.
Ages ago I was living with two housemates and we had a couple cats who went in and out often. Frodo was a fluffy grey and white kitty who seemed to have a few more than nine lives. As I was leaving the house one day, I noticed a smooshed kitty in the road, and got out to check. It was pretty smooshed, but I decided that it was not Frodo. My housemate, however, disagreed and shoveld it up and burried it in the yard. She was very upset and cried and cried and cried about how awfull it was.
The very next day I went out on the back porch to greet the sunshine, and there was Frodo, sleeping very comfortably on a wicker chair. I scratched his ear and he yawned and stretched. My housemate felt pretty sheepish after that.
The smooshed kitty ended up being a neighbors, and they were glad we let them know about it.
Well, my $10,000 golden retriever (amount of damage she did) liked to chase after bicyclists on our rural road. Very friendly, but intimidating and dangerous as cars also traveled there. One day, driving home with 4 year old daughter and after school snack, there is a cyclist about a mile from our house, trying to avoid a friendly golden. I hop out of van, apologize (not much help, since cyclist spoke French, what are the odds of that on a Ky back road?), and push dog into van scolding all the way. My daughter says, as I drive away, “Mom, this isn’t Jenny.” Of course it’s Jenny! Pull into drive, only to be greeted by Jenny! Enthusiastic about the new dog I just kidnapped from our neighbor. I should have realized it wasn’t Jenny when it didn’t go for my daughter’s snack!
Yes, we had a cat stuck in a recliner for 3 days. Ran a streak to the litter box! No worse for the experience.
First fall we had horses at home, I saw blood all across the chest of my white (gray, I know) horse. I couldn’t find an injury, and was checking other horses for blood. Called my daughter who diagnosed poke berry juice! I still catch my breath when I first see it, and it happens every year.
This week, I was at barn with problem rescue boxer. She is better, or she has us trained, I am not sure which. But she has disappeared in the past, causing much fear on our part. But she has been better, so I allow her to go to the barn, where she eagerly plays with our neighbor’s dog, who visits her. So I do chores, check on dogs, give dog treats, do chores. At end of long chore session, she is GONE. I call and call, I go to deck to scan area, call and call. Finally after 30 minutes, I go in to get warm and check if she is waiting at front door. Nope. Wait ten minutes, back out to walk perimeter of property. I decided to check the haybarn, and yep, I didn’t see her follow me in and shut her in, where she stood silently as I screamed her name not ten feet from the barn door. She’s barking at nothing as I type this!
And my favorite. New catten, Edwin, picked up along road in a very rural spot, no response to flyers in mailboxes. Very adventurous cat. One night, at 1130pm, our 15 year old daughter is frantic because she can’t find Edwin, and she hears scratches from behind the drywall in the basement bathroom! My husband leaps up to the rescue. He is using a drywall saw in the basement, our daughter is upset, and I stagger out of bed and for some reason open the linen closet. Out flies Edwin! And yes, my husband released the mousie jumping up and down in the wall outdoors. We still have the neat hole in the wall in the basement!
Oh, I have another one! Last summer I moved my mare to a new boarding barn. I brought her in from the pasture, groomed her, saddled her, and when I went to put her bridle on I noticed that the entire inside of her mouth was BLACK. What the heck??? I went out and caught her pony companion in the pasture, checked her mouth and surely enough it was black as well. I was convinced that the two of them had eaten some deadly poisonous weed and were not long for this world. I called the barn owner (who just happens to be a vet) and he informed me that the two of them had been having a grand time eating mulberries off the trees in the back of the pasture.
OMGosh what a funny blog.
First, you have to read about Aisling on my blog, there are two of them. She is determined and I am sure has taught herself to levitate:
http://thewatchingstory.blogspot.com/2009/10/beautiful-but-evil-yet-terribly.html
http://thewatchingstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/further-adventures-of-tbbeytm-aisling.html
Further adventures happened this past Sunday. She apparently levitated on my grooming table. It is a large table, and has six inch extensions on the legs so that my poor old back doesn’t get tired when I groom the corgis. It is 36 1/2 inches high, I just measured it. On the grooming table was a baggie full of Dermamaxx that I had left over, about 60 pills that someone had given to me and was going to give it to a friend whose golden was on it for her hips. I walk in the door and here she is, Sunday morning, bag ripped open and quickly consuming them. Of course no vet around so I called my friend who is a vet in VA, and we made her throw up. No after effects, but definitely a heart stopping moment. No idea how she got up there. Levitation is the only thing I can think of.
She got on the desk (also no idea how) and was tossing the horse peppermints down to the other corgis this morning.
Nothing is safe here….
Horse related, the first one I think of is Jacques, who felt so punky one day. Had his head down, wouldn’t eat, looked at grain like it was poison. He seemed ok otherwise, no temp, normal stomach rumbling, strong and regular heart sounds. The next day I began to panic, he had removed himself from the others and was standing across the field, head way down. I took his temp and it was a couple of degrees up. I called the vet. She came out, did everything I did, have me move him, said “it’s not colic but I’ll be darned if I can figure this out” and continued to look him over. Finally she opened his mouth and said “Uh huh!”. He was shedding his teeth and he had lost FOUR of them. I had it in my heart that he was going to die of some rare type of colic. A couple of days and some painkillers and he was eating just fine.
Another one on Aisling, she came up missing one day. Did the whole panic thing, that grew and grew. Our yards are fenced but she was just a little pup, maybe 5 or 6 months old then. Not under the porch or vehicles, no where to be found. I searched the house, checked all the crates to be sure that there weren’t two corgis tucked in somewhere instead of one, and had begun to go into a full blown panic when I was yelling for her in the front yard and heard a little sound…what could that be? I looked around. No. She could not be there. I lifted up the edge of the child’s pool that had been previously leaning on the building and she was there, apparently having had bumped into it and settled it over her like a tent. Being a good girl, she just laid down and waited for someone to come and find her.
Tumble did something the same way, just GONE. My front yard was not fenced at that time, and I thought she had wandered over to the neighbors’ house, and they were home. No, they had been in the yard and saw no dog go thru. More panic, more panic, MORE PANIC. The road we live on is not busy usually but it is fast. I checked across the road, yelling, we have so many woods around here and she could be gone forever. I called my husband and he said “check the house again. So I did. Called him back. Did you look everywhere? Yeah. Check the closets. Rolling my eyes, certain my corgi was being eaten by a coyote at this point, or sinking into quick sand or some other awful thing, I checked. Yep. She was a good girl, too. Apparently I’d been in the closet earlier and she wandered under my feet while I was futzing around with whatever I was futzing around with, got closed in and then laid down and took a nap, waiting to be rescued.
I have a lot more but this is about all my heart can take right now.
Oh, if you like the blog, go and check the most recent one….
A few weeks ago, a boarder called to say that my mare was colicking. The mare would spread out her front legs, put her nose near the ground and slowly sink until her chest almost touched the ground with her butt up in the air, and then sway to the side as if she were about to fall over, then rise up, move a few steps and do it all again.
I rushed over and found her there with her companion, Lacie. They were both standing near their large feed tub, Lacie eating and Tess standing and dozing with a back leg cocked. With shaky fingers, I put on Tess’ halter, petted her and put my ear to her side. Everywhere I listened I heard normal rumblings and gurglings. She acted totally relaxed and normal and took a few nibbles of hay. I led her around the large pasture for a while. She followed alertly and normally and she pooped. When I released her, she went to her feed tub and began eating hay. I was puzzled. I told my friend who lives next door and she said, “Oh, I’ve seen her do that. It really freaked me out when I first saw it; I thought it was colic. But then I figured out she was just thinking of lying down and trying to find a good spot.†I watched her for a few hours, checked on her carefully all day, but she was fine.
After that, I saw her sway and sink once when she was sleeping on her feet, and then on a recent vet visit (Lacie kicked her and the vet was doing a follow-up to remove dead skin and stitches) she started snoring and sinking down. I told the vet about her strange habit and he said some horses have a kind of narcolepsy; they don’t sleep well on their feet and will fall over sleeping or even when really relaxed during grooming. Funny horse. Fortunately hasn’t fallen down yet, or at least, hasn’t been injured.
A couple summers ago I looked out in the backyard to check on my English Mastiff and saw piles of white foam all over the grass, found her and she had white foam coming out of her mouth. Needless to say, I freaked out, called the boyfriend and proceeded to tell him that she had rabies and what should I do, is there anyway to save her? His response inbetween laughing at me, was to find the toad that she licked and kick him out of the yard
Cats and car trips lol I was moving up from California to Washington and my cat snuck out of the car window, which was only down a few inches for air, when we stopped to get something to eat. It took about 10 minutes of calling him when around the corner of the restraunt he came a running.
One day I was couldn’t find my cat Ebony anywhere. The next day still nothing, so called the pound to report her missing and see if anyone had brought her in. I was told that a cat with her description and red rhinestone collar was at the Chevy dealer in a town 15 minutes away. They didn’t want to give her up. lol My daughter (3 yrs old) hollers Ebony and I picked her up and gave her to her and she immediately laid her head against my daughter. All we can figure is she snuck into a neighbors car and then jumped out when they went to that town.
I have a feedlot rescue that we had only had for about a week that just loves to run at a high rate of speed and buck, even in the winter. Well she was ripping around and reared up to spin round and lost her footing in the snow and ice and landed on her side and stayed there. Scared the hell out of me!! All it did was knock the wind out of her and what seemed like forever she got up and was just fine. We have had her for 4 years now and she still hauls butt at a high rate of speed bucking and has slipped at least one other time and got up again just fine. I don’t think she’s going to ever learn but everytime I see her go down my heart stops and my stomach goes in my throat.
These are HILARIOUS!! My first place out of high school was a house I shared with a roommate who had a cat. My 2 cats weren’t happy but the first few days were ok. Coming home from school at night I couldn’t find the calico who was mostly white. They had been left inside with no open windows etc. I opened the back door and thought I heard her crying. I looked all around and the meowing came more insistant, it sounded like it was coming from the roof, but WTF, I couldn’t see her, she’s got a lot of white, porch light was on. Til she moved closer to the edge and low, and behold, it WAS my cat. She was COVERED in SOOT. She had been chased into the fireplace and escaped the only way she could, up the chimney! Giving her a bath was a lesson for both of us!
Now, back to more reading!
My Grandmother was visiting a few years back and dropped one of her diabetic pills. We were sure one of the cats had gotten a hold of it because she could NOT find it. After scowering her room which the cats slept in, we HAD to take action just incase. Both Mitten and Raven went to the vet and after having there stomache pumped and flushed with Charcoal, we brought home two very unhappy cats. 2 days later Grandma found the pill in one of her slippers!
Ah, this ones not mine but a friends. She has a Black Blanket POA Stallion. Very nice little show horse, competes in western, english, hunter, jumping, harness, and now is even doing Dressage. Well, the barn she had him at he would always hop over the fences he liked being with the ladies. He never bred them, infact woudl ONLY perform in the breeding shed, it was the way he’d been taught, but still it wasnt a good situation so they decided to switch to a different stable.
Found a new stable that had stallion paddocks with 7 foot fences that there was no way he could hop over, and they had 3 or 4 black blanket mares so it was a very friendly POA barn. Well, when breeding season came up they had an issue with him because he woudln’t breed. They ended up having to build a replica breeding shed just liek the one he was used to.
Anyways. She went out one morning and couldn’t find him , he wasn’t in the paddock, and she just panicked figuring someone had taken him. Finally went and counted the black blankets in the mare pasture and low and behold, there was an extra. She got really upset thinking one of the other owners had tried to get a free breeding, after all, he couldn’t open the gate and clearly he didnt jump a 7 foot fence. Took him back, put him in the paddock. And called a barn meeting for the next day.
So next day comes up, there all in the office having a meeting about the horses, and of course no one is admitting to putting him in with the mares. Someone looks out the window and glances his way and screams “OMG!” and everyone swings around.
Well, Tommy was a very petite POA, very refined, he was on his side in the paddock, squirming back and forth on the ground, he’d figured out how to ROLL UNDER the bottom rail of the fence that they thought was too low. Everyone at the barn from the owner to the grooms and riders stood there and watched him work himself under that fence for 30 minutes till finally he stood up, walked calmly as you please over to the mares Pasture, hopped the fence, and found his favorite friend and started grazing right near her.
They all spent the next day adding an additional rail to the bottom of his paddock, and his mommy went out to the closest auction, and bought him 2 little miny mares to share his paddock with. Spent the money to have them ‘fixed’ and now he’s happy. Hasn’t tried to escape since and just dotes on his ladies. Infact, her main problem is getting him to eat his treats that she put most of his winter vitamins and supliments in because he has a habbit of picking the apple bits out of his buckets and giving them to the mares. He’s such a ham.
A friend of mine had a new kitten which suddenly and inexplicably lost the ability to walk. It would just stagger about and fall over. They took it to the vet, and sat in the waiting room feeling grim with lots of old ladies expressing sympathy and tut-tutting.
Finally got in to see the vet, who checked the kitten over and couldn’t work out what was wrong. A neurological problem? An injury no-one had witnessed? The kitten collapsed on the table but went on trying to stand and failing.
It was then that vet and owner noticed it had gotten one of its front paws stuck in its collar.
They freed the cat. It could walk perfectly. My friend had to walk out through the waiting room of concerned old ladies with his head down…
I brought home a brand new kitten from the pound that was about as big as my fist. I put him down and turned around for one second and he was GONE. I searched the the entire house and couldn’t find him. I called in my boyfriend and friend and brother and his friend to help. Finally, we heard, “Meow, meow” coming from the kitchen. After much searching, we figured out that he had crawled back behind the oven (it was the kind that just slips into an opening with a couple inches on each side.) So, we had to pull out the oven very carefully, so as not to smush he kitten. After a couple similar disappearances, I finally had a new name for my new kitten – Waldo!
I just received this ad by e-mail. Precisely what you are talking about. Make more babies, and then try to give away last years and the years before.
“Howdy Partner!
It comes that time every year right before the spring that we have to do what we don’t want to do! Yes in the spring when the new babies are born, we have to make room for them!
We just love ALL of our horses…but let’s be reasonable…we can’t keep all of them forever. It is at this time each year we have a “special” to share our good fortune with you. We have the best dispositioned horses around. These young horses have been handled by the kids at the ranch extensively, and are used to lots of different things! We have weanlings,yearlings, 2 year olds, and a couple of 3 year olds that are ready to start your discipline or your program! Mr. says he will let them go at a great price of $550.00.
Now, this is a deal. Some of these horses are out of our stallion, XXX, own son of XXXXXXX, the superhorse. If you have seen him, you know what a class act he is! Some of them are by our other stallions, XXXX, XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX .Some of these horses have been started in training. Some have had several rides. Contact me by email, or call me by phone, XXXXXXXXXX, to let me know what your interested in, and we will have a show n tell day one day soon at the ranch, to let Mr. and the kids show you what these horses can do! Don’t miss out on a great opportunity!”
Incredible!!!!!
Seriously? Do they even make Cherry Flavored Diet Dr. Pepper anymore???
I had acquired a fairly young female cat at the end of summer 2008. I was very “green” at cat ownership (have owned dogs and horses all of my life) and this was the second cat I had ever brought home. One afternoon Lucy came into the kitchen, writhing and crying and throwing herself on the floor… I panicked thinking she got into some chemical or something and was having a neurological meltdown. I quickly grabbed the kitten (who was about 6 months old at the time) and ran next door to consult with my sister, kitty-cat extraordinaire, on what might be wrong with Lucy and to see if we should immediately head to the vet. My sister’s response? “Yo, dumb ***, she’s going into heat”. No need to mention how much of an idiot I felt like. Lucy has been fixed and no more incidents noted to this date.
I have a male Chihuahua named Chili, and this happened a few years ago.
Chili is normally very active, running around, excited to eat and go outside (what dog isn’t?). One morning, he was acting very lethargic, not wanting to eat or move much. I was worried, but figured he’d had and off morning, so I put him in his crate (with his bed & water in it) and went to work. Toward the end of my workday, my husband called me (he gets home before me) and asked if Chili had acted normal that morning. When I told him no, we both started freaking out. Our vet had closed about 15 minutes prior to our conversation, so we took him to the emergency vet. After paying $140 just to see the vet and panicking that my pup was dying, the vet informed us he had indigestion and would be fine in the morning. Seriously. Not to mention we spent $3500 on knee surgery for him 2 years later (luxating patella). My 8 pound dog is currently worth more than my 1300 pound horse!
I was volunteering at a summer camp that my barn holds and we were helping the kids untack and brush their ponies. One of the girls was a little larger than the others so we put her on a dead broke, 20 year old TB mare named Rita. Rita’s rider had untacked and brushed her alright and she was going to watch the other girls. Now, Rita has some fancy lip work and is good at un-doing stall locks, so she has a chain on her door to keep her in. Of course, little girl didn’t know that and the chain was left off. The hay area is right in front of Rita’s stall. I had my back turned toward the other end of the barn. I hear the sound of hooves behind me and turn around and about wet myself. She is a fairly large mare and it startled me when I turned around and she was so close I nearly bumped into her. She, of course, was happily munching on some hay and ignoring all of the hub-bub around her. I just grabbed her lead rope off her little private storage area in front of her stall and stuck her back in her stall – this time locking the chain as well!