Hops in the Right Direction: Naki'o

Dude.

I can't even begin to tell you how cool Naki'o is, how wonderful the people in his life are, and how happy this story makes me.

Via

Meet Naki'o.  Isn't he a handsome fellow?  His name means "puddles" in Hawaiian--very suitable, given that he lost his paws and parts of his tail, nose, and ear when he fell asleep in a puddle in the cellar of the freezing Nebraska home where his pregnant mama was abandoned.  Mama didn't make it, and without the help of a lot of very special people, Naki'o might not have, either.

You see, the stumps that remained of his legs were uneven, and the bones were sharp and not suited to bearing the weight of a growing puppy.

Enter Christie Pace, who adopted Naki'o from A Puppy's Voice in Nebraska when he was just seven weeks old, knowing the trek they had ahead of them.  Christie raised the money to get a prosthetic for Naki'o's most troublesome leg, but it was OrthoPets, specializing in orthotics and prosthetics for pets, that covered (literally, heh) the last three legs.  Naki'o is the first dog to have prosthetics on all four limbs.

Christie, inspired by her experience with this special dude, founded Nakio's Underdog Rescue, a rescue dedicated to helping other disabled pets get the homes and care they deserve.

What thrills me about this story is not only the happily-ever-after this specific dog and his owner are getting--it's also the attention it's garnering.  The more examples we see of dogs like Naki'o and Rosie, where dogs and their owners overcome great disabilities with love and aplomb, the more we non-superhero-folk might realize we can help in our own small ways as well.

You can read Naki'o and Christie's full story here.

You can donate to Nakio's Underdog Rescue here.



Many thanks to Dianawesome for bringing this wonderful story to my attention.

Prepare to Squee

Okay, guys, I have to apologize.  I was going to do a proper blog post today, but I ate too much macaroni and cheese instead.

So here is a comic to distract you from the sense of loss I'm sure you're feeling right now:

(You'll have to go to the link to embiggen, sorry.)  Thanks go to my friend Marcin for sending this to me!


(True:  The words "I really want to see warm bodies" may have just come out of my mouth, but I meant the movie Warm Bodies, with no implications that the bodies I normally see are cold.  Or that I see any bodies.  Crap.  There's really just no way to turn that around, is there?  On the plus side, at least my co-workers think I am a harmless sort of strange.)

Hops in the Right Direction: Worth It

Every person I've ever spoken to who has adopted a special needs pet has never regetted it.  I have never once heard, "I love my pet, but if I had the chance to do it over again, I'd get a different one because it's just not worth it."

Because it is.

Owning any pet is good for your health, but there is something special about special dogs.  Something in how much they love you that makes you think, "How could someone not love you back?"  Something in how much they love life that makes you think, "How could someone think you aren't as deserving?"  Something in how plain old happy they are, even though they face something that we might let ruin our life, if it were us instead, and it's an inspiration.

Today is Change a Pet's Life Day, but the truth is, pets change our lives for the better.

So go ahead.  Be selfish.  Adopt.

Hops in the Right Direction: I've done nothing all week, so here is some stuff other, more productive people have done.

Yeah, I've been MIA again.  What can I say?  I've been focused on not dying.  I even took a sick day from work, so you know it's serious.

Anyway, while I've been snoring/snotting/sniffling on everything, the Internet has been hard at work, coming up with things for me to post.



There is no reason for me to post that image other than it cracks me up.

I'm sorry.  This is going to be an odd post.  I'm all hopped up on cold medicine.

As long as I'm posting funny shtuff, lookit this!

Via

What can I say?  It cracked me up.

And this one is seasonally appropriate!

Via

But  here is a photo/link that is more seriously awesome:

We all know that dogs with altered mobility are the best.  And we know that therapy dogs are also the best.  (Shut up.  I know that doesn't make sense.  Roll with me here, yeah?  <--That's a joke.  You'll get it in a minute.)  Well, therapy dogs with altered mobility are the bestest.

Via

I think I had something else to say, but I forgot.


(True:  Don't forget your Possum Pinups calendar!)

Hops in the Right Direction: Paying It Forward--With a Giveaway!

Remember that time that my mom accidentally pet a 'possum instead of a cat?  And I implied 'possums are ugly monsters?  And then that led to this post, where I talked about marsupial fetishists collecting images for their pinup calendar?  And I unleashed this horror upon the world:

I'm sorry, you probably had repressed that.

Well, that calendar is now a thing, and you can get one FOR FREE.

Yes, that's right, a full, proper, 12 month, full-color calendar in all its perverted glory* can be yours.  FOR FREE.  All the images are brand new and created by my very very cool friend/cousin/faithful reader/marsupial fetishist Dianawesome.  Because she is awesome.

All I ask is that, in lieu of payment, you donate some time/money/old towels or other supplies to whatever animal shelter you like.  Then, email me at danathebiped@gmx.com with your address and details of how you helped a homeless pet.  That's it.  You could even lie about the help part if you really wanted, because I'm going on the honor system here.  In January, I'll post what we've all accomplished, and we can all be amazed and self-congratulatory over how fabulous we are.

Fabulous, right?

Because even though we're sick and twisted people, we've got squishy soft hearts.  And just in case you need a reminder of where to find your squishy soft heart, let me tell you a story.

In the spring of 2011, I adopted a three-legged Pomeranian with a slew of anxiety issues and a rapidly approaching "adopt by or else" date.  She was kind of raggedy:

But she had a great smile.  And she was terrified of being alone and also of slippery floors.  My friends and family gave me whatever rugs they could spare to help me accomodate her on my hardwood floors.

Fast forward through lots of obedience and relaxation classes for her, massage lessons for me, a ton of research about tripods and their bodies, and countless hours of training.  Fast forward to this Thanksgiving at my folks' house. 

Prada was in the living room on her rug.  Mom, Dad, and I were in the kitchen chatting.  And then this happened (which you might not be able to see very well, because it was taken on my old really dumb phone):

That's my dog on a hardwood floor, if you can't tell.  And this is why you should do something good.  Because every shelter pet that finds a home has a thousand little miracles in their lives, the most important being a family.  And also because 'possum faces on pinup girls are funny.  (And free!)


*(True:  I feel obligated to point out that a couple of the calendar possumgirls turned out a little grainy.  They'll all be perfect next year, though.)

Hops in the Right Direction: Buy Gifts, Do Good

Getting involved in pet adoption advocacy has been rewarding in so many ways...  The events I've attended have all been interesting, informative, fun for both Prada and me, and have introduced me to so many amazing people and organizations and companies.

Lainey's Pawtique and Bakery is one of these companies.  Their pet treats are homemade from fresh ingredients (Prada has tried them and approves mightily), and their other products are one-of-a-kind and completely adorable. 

That all makes Lainey's cool, but here's the best part:  they donate 5% of every sale to various pet charities and shelters.  For October, proceeds are going to tailsofhopefoundation.org's "Blanketed with Love" campaign.  (The campaign collects and distributes blankets for pets receiving treatment for cancer or other life-threatening illnesses, to keep them warm during transport after uncomfortable treatments.)

Starting November first and continuing through December 23rd, the donations will go toward making two huge treat baskets for animals in local Illinois shelters.  You can make purchases at Lainey's website or their Etsy store, where you will also have the option to add a $5 donation for the treat baskets to your order (coming soon).

Pretty sweet, huh?

(So, to my dog-loving friends and family--guess where your gifts are coming from this Christmas?)

Hops in the Right Direction: What Happens When You're Not Looking

No, the title isn't a Weeping Angels reference.  (Well, it only is if you get it.)  Rather, so much growth occurs when you're not actively working towards it.

This week, I've been thinking about the adult I wanted to be when I was a little girl.  I wanted to be confident and have a decent job that funded the continuing adventures I wanted to have.  I wanted to be successful on my own terms and eventually be able to cut the financial cord between my parents and me.  I wanted to be satisfied with who I had become.  Pets, family, and great friends were a necessity, of course--and I wanted them to be satisfied with the person I'd become, too.  And sure, I wanted a bit of romance.  Who doesn't?

It occurred to me:  I've got that life.  Out of all the economic hardships, dumb choices, and plain ol' drama, somehow I ended up somewhere good.  And I think it started happening when I stopped worrying about it so much.

Let's back track a bit.  When I was in high school, I got sick.  Really, really sick.  At one point, my prognosis was, "Don't expect to see the end of college."  Obviously, it was a turning point for me--if I had a limited amount of time, I was going to fucking make the most of it.  Valedictorian?  Check.  Study abroad?  Check.  First complete manuscript by age twenty-two?  Check.  Fall in love?  Check.  I got an apartment and a full-time job right out of college, because I needed to prove I could do it.  I joined everything:  choirs, sports teams, theater groups, dance groups, bowling teams, pie parties, writers groups...  If it had anything to do with anything I was the least bit interested in, I signed up.  How can you experience everything life has to offer if I don't experience everything life has to offer?  I had a bad case of DO ALL THE THINGS.

Controlling every moment of my time gave me a sense of purpose and accomplishment.  It made me feel like I was going somewhere.  That feeling has lasted years after my illness went into remission and I was told I should have a normal, long life.

Okay.

What the hell does this have to do with Prada and tripods?  I'm getting there, I promise.

As I said, I only realized I was where I wanted to be when I stopped working so hard for it--my single-minded goal-setting had blinded me to the goals I was actually achieving.  I needed to stop and smell the roses, as it were.

I needed to let Prada do the same.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was training the bejeezus out of her.  We've taken four 6 week training courses in the last year and a half, and we practice several times a week, not every day.  But I have had a mental list of the things I want her to accomplish, in the order I want her to accomplish them.  A lot of the places I take her to, I take her to with the assumption that she will have some experience, and I want her to experience ALL THE THINGS.  In order.  By my mental list.

Sometimes, I'm kind of dumb.  Sometimes, I need to just let things happen in their own time

As long as I've had her, Prada has refused to eat or drink out of any dish deep and narrow enough that she had to sort of stick her head in it to get the food or water.  I bought wide, shallow dishes for her, and put that fear way down on my list of things to accomplish with her.  Getting her to heel nicely, sit properly, and wait politely were clear priorities for me, followed shortly by getting her used to surfaces other than the carpet she prefers.  When we travelled, I brought or scavenged a dish that would accomodate her fear.  It was something I (mostly) remembered to consider when taking her places--I couldn't depend on a Prada-friendly dish of water even at a dog-friendly event.

And then, at the rally event we went to, Prada got thristy when I had left her with my parents to run an errand.  (Okay, I had to pee.)  Without even thinking about it or making a fuss or balking at all, she shoved her head all the way into Linka's very deep, very narrow water dish.  And drank.

I like to think I've been pretty good about adapting the way I train to the way Prada learns.  Now I need to learn that I don't need to teach her everything.  Some things, she will learn without my interference.  Some of it is just going to happen, probably when I'm not looking.

And that will give us more time to just enjoy each other, which is kind of perfect.


(True:  I still have lots of goals  Long-term, I need to find an agent for that manuscript I wrote back when I was 22.  Short-term, I need to do my laundry.  Unless some helpful reader wants to offer to do it for me?)

Hops in the Right Direction: The Vow

We've always faced the reality:  sometimes relationships don't work out.  People get divorced.  People break up.  People rebuild their lives separately.

Dogs don't.  Dogs don't understand the "it's not you, it's me" thing.  They don't understand that you loved them, but now you've got a new job and you just don't have time for them anymore.  They don't understand that you just can't deal with the responsibility of dog ownership, or your new partner is allergic, and that they have to go.

Dogs are a "till death do we part" animal, and adopting one means a lifetime commitment.  (Incidentally, this is why so many shelters have a "trial period" during which you can decide this isn't the dog for you or this isn't the right time for you, and you bring the dog back before the dog gets too attached.  Good policy, and one I'd highly recommend you keep your eye out for if you are looking to adopt.  Sometimes, it's just not a good fit.)

This is especially important to remember with adult dogs with disabilities, be it an amputation, blindness, deafness, whatever.  Preliminary studies show that disabled dogs are even more attached to their handlers than other dogs.

Prada and my cat Cinco are my girls.  I am their guardian, and they are my responsibility and pleasure.  They are my family, and that means doing right by them even when that is challenging to me.  If someone comes into my life who is not prepared to accept what is to me, a simple fact of life, that does limit the role that person can play.  I mean, My Sister the Lawyer is pretty irritating sometimes, but if some asked me to give her up becuase they didn't like her, guess which person I'd choose?  It's no different with my pets.

So yes, I clean up my share of potty accidents and puke and hairballs.  I spend a couple of hours a week grooming.  I haul my butt out of bed at oh-dark-thirty to take the dog out.  I sometimes decline invitations because I have to go home and take care of those who are depending on me.  Sometimes, it's a real drag.

But in return, I get truly unconditional love and devotion, and it's so, so worth it.

(Update:  I understand I've hurt some people's feelings with this post.  Let me be clear:  I totally get that sometimes, things just don't work the way they should.  Sometimes, priorities conflict and you just have to do the best you can.  And sometimes, there are no good solutions.  I'm not qualified to judge these situations.  Unless your situation was your limited time to part-ay.  Then I'm totally judging you.)


(True:  Remember Mike the Deer-Puncher?  When we were in high school, he was fortunate enough to find Maggie, a very special dog who was really bigger than a lap dog ought to be, accompanied Mike on two cross-country moves and most of his hijinks, and had a bond with him that made you feel lucky just to witness.  We'll miss you, lovely lady!)

Hops in the Right Direction: Money Don't Grow on Trees (Plus a Happy Ending)

And that's a problem in a lot of ways.  Cost is a big reason why people are hesitant to adopt a dog who may require additional health care.  The cost of care is even scarier when your pet needs the surgery now.

There are, of course, lots of options.  Pet insurance, credit cards designated specifically for vet bills (ask your vet), savings accounts--whatever suits you.  But sometimes, you need a hand.

For example, a dog, Bubba, in one of the meetups I attend (okay, I've never actually been to one yet, since they always seem to be when I'm working one of my three jobs), recently had to have his left back leg amputated because of a rare lymphatic disorder, poor guy.  The meetup is hosting a rummage sale to help defray the cost of that, and to show support for Bubba and his mom.

If you are in the Chicago area this weekend, here is the info:

When:  Saturday, March 31, 10 a.m.-2 p.m.
Where:  Greenleaf Art Center, located at 1806 W. Greenleaf Avenue, Chicago, IL 60645.

I won't be in Chicago this weekend (Dear Florida:  I promise I will try not to burn you down.), so I've got two options for helping:  mailing a check to the person running this show (homegrown affair, so it'd go to an apartment address), or call her with my credit card information.  These are people's homes and personal lines and real names I'm dealing with here, so I'm not going to post that info here for all the Internet to see, but if you are interested in donating, leave me a note in the comments or email me at danathebiped@gmx.com and I'd be happy to set you up with contact info.  I will match donations from readers dollar for dollar (up to a completely arbitrary point; I have three jobs for a reason, and plane tickets are expensive).

Here is another arbitrary thing: a cool video! It will probably make you cry, in a good way. (Shout out to my friend Sam, who found the video and who also fosters pit bull terriers. He's good people.)



Yay, happily ever afters!

All right, all right, wipe your tears.  Go make someone hug you--I'll wait.

Better now?

Good, because I have to tell you that I'm probably not going to be posting for a few days, while I fry in the sun, drink rummy drinks, and enjoy the festivities of a good friend's wedding.  See you on the flip side!

Ah, free stuff.  Who doesn't love free stuff?  It's just like a present, but you aren't required to write a thank-you note or feel like a tool because you didn't get the other person anything.  I'm a huge language/syntax/spelling/grammar geek, so stumbling across these was my version of a mini-Christmas.  Haven't downloaded them yet, but if I suddenly stop blogging for a week, you'll know why.  (Why yes, I am a huge dork.  DON'T JUDGE ME!)

I think winning things is pretty darn cool too, don't you?  I sign up to win stuff at my two favorite radio stations' websites all the time.  Sometimes I do win--stuff like tickets to see the latest Winnie the Pooh movie and CDs I don't really want, but whatever.  I won!  I can feel like a champion who is way, way better than anyone else for the simple fact that I lucked out.  No skill required!  No work required!  Winning is seriously the best.

But I lie.  You know what's the best?  Being awarded something--and that happened to me!  I get something, it's free, I feel lucky, and I maybe even sort of deserved it!  (Or at least fooled someone into thinking I did...)

So, without further ado...

LOOKEEY WHAT I GOT!

The lovely, lovely (you're my favorite) Jo at "The Bright Yellow Balloon" thinks I'm cute!  Or my blog is, anyway.  Or my dog.  Whatever.

Das Rules:

1. Link back to the person who awarded you. (Check!)
2. Follow the blog of the person who gave you this award.  (Check!)
3. Proudly display this award on your blog.  (Check!)
4. List 5 of your favorite things.  (Cheating!)
5. Pass this award on to 5 fellow bloggers.  (Cheating!)

I'm mashing those last two rules into one and then mixing in a healthy dose of "this is not at all what the inventor of this award meant."  I'm going to list five of my favorite dogs I've featured in the past, and instead of awarding new bloggers, I'm awarding these dogs.  They're cute, and you should follow their stories.  I can't wait until the day that all of these dogs have their forever home!

#1:  Bob

Bob is one seriously chill dude who's foster mom can't say enough good things about him, but he's still waiting...

#2:  Noodles

Do you guys remember Noodles?  He was the first dog I featured, and since the last time I checked in on him, he's found his new family!  Yay, Noodles!

#3:  Trapper

Trapper's story is so sad--remember how he was caught in that animal trap, and then the first shelter he went to wasn't able to provide the care he needed?  Well, look at him now!  He's come a long way from the frightened, pain-ridden guy he used to be.  I seriously love his smile in this new picture.

#4:  Dora

This pretty girl has been adopted recently, too!  (But really, who could resist that face?)

#5:  Prada.

That's what Prada looked like when she was brought to the shelter a yeat ago.  She was a matted mess with a broken leg and a happy grin.  This is the photo I first fell in love with, and now my computer is chock-full of files crammed with pics of this girl.  She's down a leg and lots of snarls, but that grin hasn't changed a bit.


(True:  Prada is going to be featured in the newsletter of the humane society where I adopted her!  I'll keep you posted...)

Doesn't Sunny look like she's looking for something in this picture?  I'll tell you what she's looking for--you.

Words of Wisdom

My Nana was one cool lady.  An Air Force wife, she lived all over the world, working as a volunteer nurse and substitute mom for those men who needed a warm meal and a place to feel at home on Sunday afternoons.  She navigated her life as if she were in a tank, plowing over any obstacles in her path.  Even when the Alzheimer's got really bad, and her stories became more and more outrageous, she was always the hero of those stories.  I loved her to pieces.

One of the best things about Nana is that she always gave it to you straight.  Oh, didn't you like what she had to say?  Then you shouldn't have asked, dummy.  So a couple of years ago, when I was agonizing over whether or not to move to Chicago, I asked her for some advice.  She gave me words to live by, Nana-style:

"Suck it up.  You're a Gardner."

Damn skippy I am.

What's your last name?  Because Bud would like to borrow it for a while.  Just for ten, fifteen years or so.

Hops in the Right Direction: A Call to Arms

I usually try to hop in the right direction on Thursdays, but this post just couldn't wait another day.

There hasn't been much snow in Chicago for, well, pretty much all winter.  Prada is totally bummed out.  Her favorite winter activity is putting her nose down in the fresh snow and then running around the yard, snowplow-style.  Her second-favorite activity is napping in her warm bed (if my lap is unavailable).

Sadly, not all dogs have a warm bed to call their own.  The Animal Welfare League is the largest shelter in Chicago, and the only one that has a base in the economically depressed south side, with services including low-cost clinic care and no-cost monthly pet food distribution.  The ALW is also out of bedding for their animals.  A drive is being held to collect new and used pet bedding, as well as items that can be upcycled into bedding like sweatshirts and remnant fleece.

You all know what a softy I am for dogs, but this one really gets me.  The shelter where I adopted Prada had cement floors--the kind of slippery floor that is very scary to her.  A kind volunteer found a rug to put in Prada's run, so she had a safe harbor.  Every dog deserves one of those.  So, the first three people to comment today will have brand new beds donated in their name (or their pet's name or whatever).

This is Mya.  She is a people-lover, and she loves to use that long tongue to give kisses.  She also is in desperate need of a foster home.  She needs knee surgery, and the money has been donated, but it can't happen until she has a place to recuperate.  Every day she waits, it's another day in pain.  She's in Frankfort, Indiana.  Spread the word.  Facebook Mya's story.  Let's help her find a foster home--it's only a very little miracle she needs, after all.

Everybody Should Have One - Or Seven

In case you've lost your calendar or are just resurfacing from a several week-long WoW marathon, tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  That makes this my semi-obligatory "what I'm thankful for" post, so I'm just going to pause my attempts to be amusing for a bit.


Most women have two men in their lives:  their dad, and their squeeze.  (Happy birthday, Dad!)  I've got those, and they are pretty much the shit.  I am lucky enough to have a third man in my life as well:  my best friend, Seven.  I said once before I'd explain why I call him that.  So, without further ado:

Everbody Should Have One - Or Seven



I call this a big pile o' awesome.


The story is called "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."  It's notably not called "Snow White's Evil Step-Mother Tries to Kill Her A Lot" or "Prince Charming Mauls Snow White in Her Sleep, the Perv."  Nope, it's the dwarves who snag a title role.

Now, I'm not knocking Prince Charming (much).  He does save her at the end, which is sort of important.  And, they live happily ever after, which is nothing to sneer at.*  However, the Seven Dwarves save her an awful lot first.  They are the ones who cut off her killing underwear and make her stop combing her hair with poison.  They have undoubtedly had Snow White snot all over them while she's crying over some sappy movie.  They're friends, sure--but more than that, they are family.

So you don't really think Snow White really rode off with Prince Charming into the sunset and dumped the dwarves, do you?

Hardly.

And that's why I call my best friend Seven.**

*Yes, I know I started that sentence with a concuntion and ended it with a preposition.  I have a fancy degree saying I know exactly what rules I'm breaking.
**I make no claims to being princessy, myself.  Prissy would probably be as close as I'm getting.



(True:  I have a very deep resentment towards the movie When Harry Met Sally.)


Have some Noodles with your turkey!