Squeeeee

Apr. 22nd, 2017 03:46 pm
gwyn: (bucky end of the line)
A while ago, the artist who made the three incredible pieces for my Stucky Big Bang story opened up a few commissions slots, and even though I had to dip into the "sell a few things for funds" pot, I really wanted to work with her again. I gave her a couple of fics that she could use for the commission idea, if she wanted, and she really liked my Christmas fluff piece War Dogs, so she arted the first scene in that fic. I am just so thrilled with this, I can't say, it captures the way Bucky befriended the guard dog and their connection together, and I'm all flaily.

bucky and gretel


There's a tumblr post here if you prefer that sort of thing, and after a lot of hair-tearing I finally figured out how to put the image in the fic (the instructions in the AO3 FAQ are completely utterly useless).

Snow day

Feb. 6th, 2017 11:46 am
gwyn: (walken wonderland)
It snowed last night, but while I was up it was "wintry mix" snrain, mostly, and I'm so used to the snow they keep promising us not appearing, but nope, when I got up to take care of the terrors and nightmare mum, there was lots more white stuff, and when I woke up there was about three inches--a rarity in Seattle. We do get snow, sometimes lots of it, but then we'll have a couple years like these past ones where nothing happens. It's still coming down in fluffy wet flakes. All my bamboo is bent over, and I just made a perimeter check to make sure nothing looked like it would snap any lines.

I took mama out in a little jacket, just to show her the snow and see if she'd go under the trees to potty, but she didn't like it and went under the deck. If she peed there, I don't know, but then she came out and whined because she didn't want to walk through it to get to the stairs.

The babies are getting so big, and they are strong enough now to pull the potty pads out from under the pen, and then eat them. I'm afraid one of them will get an obstruction in their belly. The rescue group has pretty much abandoned me--tough shit, I guess, if they need to be split up and I'm overwhelmed. There's a potential the mama had ringworm, which means a lot of people won't take the babies, but the culture takes TWO FUCKING WEEKS and so here I am, in this nightmare scenario with potentially ringwormy babies no one will want. The other foster fell through because of that. They need to be split up badly, they are overwhelming at this point--they're awake a lot more, playing and fighting, and being seriously desctructive. They also should stop nursing, but they haven't, and that's a problem in its own right.

And now with snow I'm even more a prisoner in my own house. I'm so depressed sometimes I with I could just walk out and leave and never come back. But all the animals need me, so here I am.

Anyway. It's pretty outside.




ETA: This is what happens when we get snow or windstorms, or super heavy rain, especially in my area where there is tons of old-growth parkland or greenbelts--this is the street over from me, heading downhill toward the water, which is my primary walking route when I have time to do that.


gwyn: (penguinsucks infinitemonkeys)
I am in that fugue state where you have had so little sleep for the past however many days (in my case, since Thursday) that everything seems kind of trippy and weird, and people talk to you and you have no idea what they're saying, and your body aches and you're exhausted yet you can't, paradoxically, sleep.

All of this brought to me by puppies. If I ever try to sign up to foster a puppy litter again, shoot me. Just put me down before I even get close. I am numb with exhaustion, and I keep trying to find time to just write or do something other than clean up shit and pee, but it never happens. A lot of it is because the mama is not housetrained, and she will use potty pads but she misses more often than not, or tries to poop in strange places like she's upset and doesn't know what else to do. Always at the wee hours of the morning, too, and then first thing when I get up I'm cleaning poo off the little kiddie pool the puppies reside in, and I'm cleaning up her poo and puddles of pee, and oh my god, it hasn't been a week and already I am at the end of my rope. The laundry is never ending, because they pee and poop on the blankets of course, they're babies, and now that they're eating mush they are pooping real poo.

And then they're super cute and mouth on my fingers and lick my arms and hands and get all excited when they hear my voice and I'm like "oooooo" and almost all is forgiven. Mama will go outside during the day, but she has to eat pretty much all day long to nurse the pups so she poops constantly and that means at night, when I can't take her out all the time--or at least, I take her out at night, but she often just wanders around and doesn't do anything--I end up having to clean it up, and let me tell you, for a tiny, skinny, undernourished little 10 pound doggo, she poops for a dog about six times her size. And of course, there is, to me, no worse smell in the world than dog crap.

The babies also seem to love being active at night, and they whine and wail because Mum has taken to hanging out in her crate away from them as she gets closer to weaning, and they're like "whyyyyy have you forsaken us?" So far one of them--I think it's Kara Danvers, or it could be Winn Schott--has escaped the pool and I've had to go rescue them, you'd have thought they were being murdered. And Blues is hostile, of course, to Mum and so she's in a constant state of terror about coming out to the living room or office and she's already super, super timid and afraid, but when he's gone after her there hasn't been any contact though from the screaming you'd have thought he had cut her throat. I am just stressed the fuck out.

[profile] blackbird777 came down on Saturday and actually stayed with them all for an hour so I could go out and run some errands. It's tough to be away for long, what with all the problems and the fucking drama. Tomorrow I'll probably have to move them into a pen, which will be harder for the mother to get into and out of, meaning I'll have to be standing by a lot more. Ugh.

They are cute as hell and funny and their personalities are coming out, but wow, is this killing me. I'm trying to post at least a pic a day, if not video, on Tumblr and Instagram. Hopefully if I'm ever stupid enough to try this again, I'll look at my feed and remember this.
gwyn: (pete sdwolfpup)
I don't have a lot of joy today, much as I'm trying to feel the spirit. But I do have something to share that I think a lot of people will enjoy--I'm fostering a litter of four-week-old chihuahua puppies and their mum for Motley Zoo Animal Rescue, the group I sometimes foster dogs with. This is the first time as an adult I've been around puppies full time and let me tell you, it is…not as much fun as it seems. :-D There's the wonderful stuff: snuggling little babies as big as you palm and that have that delish puppy smell, and having them mouthing on your fingers and hands is a trip. But there is also a lot of pee and tons of poop now that they're eating puppy mush, and they are indiscriminate about where they go.

So is mum, to a certain degree, as she isn't really housetrained and has a lot of issues, which is typical for rescue dogs. She's been through a lot--emergency c-section, shelter, and may have come from a hoarder so of course has a skin condition and other serious problems. She's terrified of me because I had to give her a medicated bath first thing. And I need to bathe the pups too, but haven't yet.

Still--there is cuteness! And it might give you Joy!

I can never figure out how to put anything up on DW (this is still my biggest grrrr about the site), so I'm linking here:

Minute long video of no-holds-barred puppy fight at 3:30 a.m. : http://teatotally.tumblr.com/post/156135774205/for-more-joy-day-i-give-you-a-minute-of-wild

Short video of snuggles plus Mom: http://teatotally.tumblr.com/post/156056355785/im-fostering-a-litter-of-four-week-old-puppies

Sleepytimes pic: http://teatotally.tumblr.com/post/156103318125/post-prandial-sleepytimes-puppies-pupsters

My instagram and my tumblr are both under "teatotally" and I'm sure I will be posting more puppy and mom related joy in the near future. I am going to try to avoid the pics of me having poo and barf and pee related meltdowns or things like my pounding headaches and severe lack of sleep. Oh, wait…I guess I did. :-D

If you're in the Seattle area and would like to meet them, they will need socializing. I can't let them come in contact with other dogs until they get their vaccines in a couple weeks, but they are snugglable and need the socialization!

ETA: I keep forgetting to add: the best part of this is that it's the Supergirl litter! Mum is Cat Grant, and the babies are "Males = Tan male (Winn Schott) and black male (James Olsen) Females = Tan female (Kara Danvers), black and white female (Lucy Lane), black female with little white (Lena Luthor)"
gwyn: (bucky winter soldier)
Wow, it's been more than a few weeks since I posted. So, uh, updates on some of the stuff from last time: I took Billy to a new foster home that has two dogs we're hoping he can model himself on. He was coming around a bit more after a few days, but he still had such fear issues on walks after the dog attack that I just felt it was better for him -- and I had to find a place for him to stay, anyway, for the weekend while I was at Bitchin' Party (aka Pacificon). I'm still really sad, because I had quite fallen in love with him, but hopefully it'll make him more adoptable -- even when a dog is as cute as he is, people are wary of dogs with fear issues.

I haven't heard anything about him, but I'm going to ping them at some point to see how he's doing. I thought I was going to get a senior poodle gal, but they've never been back in touch. Animal Control hasn't, either, and the fuckwad with the loose dog isn't responding to my calls. I don't know what to do at this point; I'm not good at this sort of thing because it brings up my social anxiety issues in a big way. It's really easy for people to tell me to keep calling him or call the construction company, but that kind of thing is really agonizing for me. Just calling the times I've called was hard enough; to have to keep doing it...I don't know. Especially since I have a number of other anxiety-provoking issues at hand right now.

Anyway. Today I had my yearly checkup with my doctor, whom I love. I spoke to her about the challenging experience with the back doctor and what I was supposed to do, and she's going to follow up on some stuff for me, and she suggested I go back and just be really clear about what next steps should be, etc. She's focused on getting my back better, and though she wants me to do some other things, she said she wants that to happen first. I don't know what I'm going to do when she retires. Even though I've considered moving away from Seattle lately, I'd be willing to fly back here for my yearly appointment and pay out of pocket just to keep seeing her.

I've had another one of those situations where I have two books due at the same time, one of them a guidebook to Ecuador which was updated this time not by an author but by a fact checker, who apparently never learned basic grammar or spelling. It's hilarious -- anything he or she has updated I can spot instantly because they're so completely horrible. And the novel that I just finished has the most bizarre punctuation I've ever seen; the copyeditor was new so she didn't deal with it with the author, just left me this vague note about the author using things "stylistically" so there wasn't much I could do, but I have to admit, I'm going to be very interested in looking at reviews on Amazon or Goodreads to see what people say about it. I tend to really think the self publishing and ebook revolution is mostly a good thing; this, however, is the kind of thing I don't like about it. There are no real gatekeepers anymore.

I went to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier again yesterday. Stray thoughts:
Still full of feelings )
gwyn: (middleman german film)
The past couple days have been rough, man. Monday evening, mrs. laugh track and belmanoir came for a visit and to watch something I'd DVRed for them, and Billy just flipped the fuck out. We'd had a really good day, because it was utterly beautiful weather unlike anything we normally get in April here, and I took him to Lincoln Park, where we strolled the old-growth woodland trails and went down to the beach -- his first beach! He really liked it!

I just don't know what it was that made him flip out about them, if it was the fact there were two people instead of the one we've had before (this isn't the first time we've had visitors), but he never stopped quaking and hiding, and then after they were gone he got worse. He kept hiding under the bed, and in the morning when I let him out to pee, he hid under the deck and wouldn't come out. I finally lured him out by sitting down and weeding, but it took over an hour. I went off to my physical therapy appointment, which was deeply painful in a really unusual way (something I'll write about later), and stopped to get something to eat, so I hoped that by being alone for a while, perhaps he'd chill a bit when I got home.

He seemed quieter, so I took him for a walk because that seems to make him more confident, only we got attacked by a German shepherd. There is this house being rebuilt a few streets over, and the contractors were (illegally) parked in the driveway and completely blocking the sidewalk. I could go into the street or I could walk around behind it, and I chose behind because I thought I'd seen someone get in the van before and I didn't want to get hit (there have been more than a few times walking a dog when I nearly got hit crossing someone's driveway). I heard someone yell "Better get your dog" to I assume the owner, but before I could understand what was happening, the dog was on Billy and trying to kill him. I turned, kicked at the dog, and then basically yanked him up by his collar, which was harsh but I figured a momentary strangulation was better than a puncture wound to an artery or a crushed neck.

I fucking hate German shepherds. They're the one dog I can't stand, I'm afraid of them generally, and I've been bitten by one and terrorized by them before, so I come by my hatred from experience. I was screaming, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" at the guys who'd come to pull the dog off. And one of the guys got all shirty with me, so I started yelling at him about parking his fucking truck in the fucking sidewalk -- basically my entire sentences devolved into "fuck" variations. So he started yelling back at me, and I was like, OK douchebag, it's on, I can call SPD and have them bring you a ticket for blocking the sidewalk. But then the owner came over and was apologizing like crazy, saying his dog had never done anything like that and he didn't mean to have her running around but he'd just got back from lunch or something. I wasn't interested.

Billy fear pees and so I was covered with stinking pee and trying to check him for wounds but it was impossible because he was flipping around like a landed fish. The guy asked me if I wanted his name and number and I said, "Uh, yeah." I mean, what, everything was OK? Geez. I don't think he was a shitty guy, but I can't stand people letting dangerous dogs run around like that where there's no fence or a flimsy fence. You can't ever assume that just because a dog hasn't hurt someone, they won't hurt them ever. That's not how dogs work, especially protective dogs like those. It probably saw us coming around the van, and decided to take us on. I didn't realize until I got home that something had bruised my hand (I don't know if I was bitten but didn't get a wound or what) and I'd pulled my calf muscle. The walk home was really hard, he was terrified. I had to take him to the vet and that terrified him more.

He has two abrasions on his lower belly near his penis, and a larger one on his side. Fortunately it was minor and just a bit of blood. But they gave him fluid for shock and of course antibiotics. I don't know if the other dog has had its rabies shots. I talked to animal control today and the guy was going to investigate but I don't know what he's found, if anything, and he left a report to be filled out at my house. The worst part was that Billy went back under the deck last night and wouldn't come out. I spent three hours in the backyard trying to trick him and lure him while having this horrible conversation with one of the rescue group people that kept dropping, over and over. I finally remembered I had one hamburger left from cooking a batch the other night, and so I heated it up and wafted it around the shrubbery in front of the deck. I didn't think he'd come out, but he must have smelled it, because when I went to the garage to get my kneeling pad so I could sit there and wave it around, he actually came out and I was finally able to grab his collar.

My friend thought I wouldn't want to go see Captain America: Winter Soldier as we'd planned but I was like, please, I need a break. I'm so glad we got to go. ALL THE FEELS )
gwyn: (willow pronoun)
Man, what the everloving fuck is the matter with the person who posts things to the OTW news feed? At least three times recently, she's posted these insanely long records of chats that have completely borked my friends page, and I and many other people have repeatedly asked her to use a cut tag and she just keeps posting them in one piece. Has never responded to our requests, either. So many people have unsubbed from the feed, and I guess I'm going to have to, too. I like reading the OTW news, but fuck that -- if someone's so cavalier about borking people's friends page, I'm not staying signed up.

Reading things handled badly seems to be the order of the week for me. I'm finishing up the last pages of a really badly written book (this is a perfect example of the downside of the self-publishing revolution) that has not been helped by the copyeditor, a woman I've actually known for many years in a way through an editors' organization I belong to. I'm kind of shocked at how bad of a job she's done, particularly with punctuation. It's as if she really doesn't understand the basics of grammar. I've never read behind her as a proofer before, but it's been kind of an eye-opener. I suppose the good thing about being a proofreader in this case is that I can at least fix the most glaring errors, like the misuse of appositive commas, and no one will be the wiser. The sad part is that she'll continue to make that mistake. I wish I could feel like it's worth talking to the folks handling the business end of these, but I hate tattling as a general rule, and I'm not sure they'll want to hear it.

I saw on Tumblr recently that apparently the Finns call people like me comma fuckers rather than the really awful term we most often use here, grammar Nazi. I much, much prefer that and have decided to embrace that.

I have a new foster dog, called Billy Gibbons (yes, after the ZZ Top guitarist), who is kind of at cuteness turned up to 11. He has pneumonia, though, so I have to keep inside as much as possible, which is tough because he's young and energetic. He was not socialized to either people or other dogs, but he's seriously clever (well, he's a cairn terrier and poodle mix, so you can imagine how smart he is) so he's picking things up very fast. Like, he didn't know what to do at all about other dogs, but when I took him to meet black_bird_777's dogs Ocean and Buffy, he had a ball playing with Ocean. And he didn't know what to do with toys, but now we play fetch in the house and he's even figured out that he needs to bring the ball toward me so I can throw it.

The downside is that he's a very destructive chewer. I've bought him tons of things to chew on, but he destroyed the USB cable to my Wacom tablet, which I can't replace, so I had to buy another tablet altogether and they don't make the kind of model I want anymore. I found something on ebay, but the prices are high. He also completely destroyed a set of RF cables, but at least I didn't need those; it's when he keeps trying to chew on my electrical cords for my laptop and my back relax chair that I freak out. I can't hide or protect them, so. He also has rather a thing for shoes and carries them around, picks up those and other things and brings them to make a nest in his bed. He chews on them, but at least a little less intensely than other things. He also likes to gnaw on my office chair legs. I've never had a foster who chews like this. I'm tempted to keep him because he's really fucking adorable, but the chewing thing... arg.

Obligatory pic:
1

In fannish news, I've been watching quite a few things I mean to write about, if I ever get time. Mostly I'm just dying until I can see Winter Soldier. I've read all but one of the book compilations, and I'm so utterly consumed with Steve and Bucky feels I'm going to explode. I wish I could see it opening weekend, but it's more likely it'll be the following Monday or Tuesday. ::sobs::
gwyn: (willow pronoun)
Man, what the everloving fuck is the matter with the person who posts things to the OTW news feed? At least three times recently, she's posted these insanely long records of chats that have completely borked my friends page, and I and many other people have repeatedly asked her to use a cut tag and she just keeps posting them in one piece. Has never responded to our requests, either. So many people have unsubbed from the feed, and I guess I'm going to have to, too. I like reading the OTW news, but fuck that -- if someone's so cavalier about borking people's friends page, I'm not staying signed up.

Reading things handled badly seems to be the order of the week for me. I'm finishing up the last pages of a really badly written book (this is a perfect example of the downside of the self-publishing revolution) that has not been helped by the copyeditor, a woman I've actually known for many years in a way through an editors' organization I belong to. I'm kind of shocked at how bad of a job she's done, particularly with punctuation. It's as if she really doesn't understand the basics of grammar. I've never read behind her as a proofer before, but it's been kind of an eye-opener. I suppose the good thing about being a proofreader in this case is that I can at least fix the most glaring errors, like the misuse of appositive commas, and no one will be the wiser. The sad part is that she'll continue to make that mistake. I wish I could feel like it's worth talking to the folks handling the business end of these, but I hate tattling as a general rule, and I'm not sure they'll want to hear it.

I saw on Tumblr recently that apparently the Finns call people like me comma fuckers rather than the really awful term we most often use here, grammar Nazi. I much, much prefer that and have decided to embrace that.

I have a new foster dog, called Billy Gibbons (yes, after the ZZ Top guitarist), who is kind of at cuteness turned up to 11. He has pneumonia, though, so I have to keep inside as much as possible, which is tough because he's young and energetic. He was not socialized to either people or other dogs, but he's seriously clever (well, he's a cairn terrier and poodle mix, so you can imagine how smart he is) so he's picking things up very fast. Like, he didn't know what to do at all about other dogs, but when I took him to meet black_bird_777's dogs Ocean and Buffy, he had a ball playing with Ocean. And he didn't know what to do with toys, but now we play fetch in the house and he's even figured out that he needs to bring the ball toward me so I can throw it.

The downside is that he's a very destructive chewer. I've bought him tons of things to chew on, but he destroyed the USB cable to my Wacom tablet, which I can't replace, so I had to buy another tablet altogether and they don't make the kind of model I want anymore. I found something on ebay, but the prices are high. He also completely destroyed a set of RF cables, but at least I didn't need those; it's when he keeps trying to chew on my electrical cords for my laptop and my back relax chair that I freak out. I can't hide or protect them, so. He also has rather a thing for shoes and carries them around, picks up those and other things and brings them to make a nest in his bed. He chews on them, but at least a little less intensely than other things. He also likes to gnaw on my office chair legs. I've never had a foster who chews like this. I'm tempted to keep him because he's really fucking adorable, but the chewing thing... arg.

Obligatory pic:
1

In fannish news, I've been watching quite a few things I mean to write about, if I ever get time. Mostly I'm just dying until I can see Winter Soldier. I've read all but one of the book compilations, and I'm so utterly consumed with Steve and Bucky feels I'm going to explode. I wish I could see it opening weekend, but it's more likely it'll be the following Monday or Tuesday. ::sobs::
gwyn: (pete sdwolfpup)
[personal profile] dine asked: what was your reason for starting dog rescue/fostering work, and which of those you've fostered is your favourite?

It really came about totally by accident. I had decided, after being happily dogless for most of my life, to get a dog, since I was working from home and around pretty much 24/7. I was feeling very lonely, and my dad had bred and trained Brittany spaniels when I was a kid, so I was very familiar with dogs -- but that familiarity had made me not want one because they are so much more high-maintenance than cats, and they smell bad quite often, and I freakin' hate dog poop. I had way too many memories of cleaning out the kennels when I was a child.

But you know, there's a lot to be said for an animal that you can take with you when you're running around in the car, and who greets you every morning as if it's the best day ever because you got up, and when you come home it's the best day ever again, just because you came home.

So I put in an application, but the fosters decided to keep the dog, and the rescue group lady said she had another dog similar to that one I might like to meet, and she could bring her over. I didn't understand that she planned to leave the dog with me! It was a foster to adopt scenario, and I could tell right away that she was not the right kind of dog for me. But I had her about a month, and there were definitely some trials and tribulations. Still, I liked her, and the cats eventually got over themselves (though they were very, very uptight for most of that time), and some time went by while I kept looking for another dog. On the rescue group's Facebook page one day they had a notice of need for an immediate foster for a darling little dog named Brutus, who was also with me about a month. I guess at that point I thought, well, I could keep doing this until I find my perfect dog.

My sister had been involved in animal rescue, and even though this isn't the same (she went into emergency situations and removed animals from harm, often big ones, like the horses and llamas she took out of the hills during the big San Diego fires in the early aughts), I felt like I was carrying on something for her, and that meant a lot to me. I'm going to be doing more work with the group coming up in the following year, I hope. It's not always easy, because I have cats, and people always tell me they could never do it because they either have psycho cats, or a crowded house, or they wouldn't be able to give the dogs or cats or buns away, or whatever. But you know what? I have psycho cats (witness the whole biting thing that has cost me thousands of dollars), I have a tiny house, and sometimes I cry when the dogs go away. But I also know that I'm giving them to their new forever homes, and I can't tell you what a great feeling that is.

Most of the animals we see have issues. And being in shelters stresses them out, so they come to us troubled and skittish. The best feeling in the world is when your dog or cat blossoms in your care, and they go off to their new family and you made a difference. So that's why I keep doing it.

I always say that I'll do it until my perfect dog comes along. But she already did, to be honest. Somehow I never posted a pic of Tilda, my pug, here, but she was just such a great dog, and I would have kept her except that my dad had become seriously ill, and I just couldn't see being down at the nursing home all the time and neglecting her, there was too much pressure. So she got adopted, and then my dad died, but it was too late. I did have her here when my dad died, though -- her new family was on holiday break and so she was boarding with me, in fact I picked her up the day he died. I was so glad she was here with me. I don't know if I could have handled it without her.
gwyn: (MDs icon)
[personal profile] sdwolfpup asked: your favorite and least favorite William Fichtner roles!

I thought this would be easy, but it's turned out to be very difficult! I mean, he's just my faaaavorite, and even when I hate something he's done, I can still find something to like just because he's so awesome.

I think for least favorite, I'd have to go with hair roles: while I really cringe and curl into a ball at the violent racists roles like in Switchback and that one where he plays an old-timey sheriff or something, it's the ones where he has weird horrible hair that I think I hate the most: The Longest Yard, What's the Worst That Could Happen, Drowning Mona. I can't handle the hair, man. At least Longest Yard, he's wearing muscle shirts a lot of the time or tight football pants, so there's that. And then there's the bad teeth roles, like Pearl Harbor, which give me the willies.

I could, though, possibly say The Lone Ranger, because that's sort of a horribleness trifecta: bad teeth, bad hair, and bad facial scars, all wrapped up in a terrible, execrably bad movie that should never have been made. And no I still haven't seen it, because I can't bear to. The clips have been enough.

But for favorite, wow, that is hard. That is really, really hard. How do you choose from Kent in Contact, Sanderson in Black Hawk Down, Alex Mahone in Prison Break, the "dad" in Blades of Glory, Andrew in Nine Lives, the hilariously creepy cop in Strange Days, to Ryan Sparks in Grace Under Fire, and my beloved Bruce Kellerman in the little-known MDs? I can't! I can't choose! They all have something wonderful I love, and he's just such a good actor that he leaves me fascinated by even the most reprehensible characters, and when he plays good guys, I'm over the moon. I also adore him in the horrible movie Drive Angry, because his character, The Accountant, is one of the most delightfully funny nasty pieces of work you'll ever see.

But there are still many roles of his I haven't seen, because they haven't been released either on DVD or aired on TV or shown in theatres. I hope at some point I can see them, because I wonder if there might be a new favorite in there somewhere.
____

In other news, Ginny left today for her adoption tomorrow. A woman fell in love with her at an adoption event last weekend, and somehow talked her macho husband who seems to think real men only have big dogs into adopting her. I'm so happy for her, but I cried when she left. I should post the pic I got of her with Santa. She's the longest-residing foster dog I've ever had, and we've been through a lot of changes. I'm a little worried about her transition to a family with kids, but I'll keep my fingers crossed. I miss her already, but the cats are very happy.
gwyn: (pete sdwolfpup)
[personal profile] hobbituk asked what my favorite breed of dog was, and why. That is a really hard one to answer! Because I love most of them -- the only dog that I'm not super cool with is German shepherds/Alsatians, because twice when I was young I was bitten pretty severely by one, and my piano teacher in junior high had one that terrorized me and that she always brushed off with "he won't hurt you."

One of the dogs I wanted to get when I first started fostering dogs for Motley Zoo was a corgi mix of some kind; I figured a purebred corgster would be hard to get as a rescue. But I've also always wanted an Italian greyhound -- they're just so precious, the way they prance when they walk and their beautiful sleek faces and dainty feets. But they also have a lot of problems because the way they're bred, so I haven't invested myself fully in getting one, though I do know someone who knows someone who does iggy rescue and it seems like there's more than a few of them out there who need homes. So maybe someday.

But ever since I was a little kid, I've wanted an English bull terrier, like Pete is in my icon. Most people I know hate them, but I just find them so adorkable and they're like these little tanks with tiny eyes and wagging tails. They're like the Cherno Alpha of dogs. There's a full-size one (not the miniature ones that are most common) with black and white spots in my neighborhood named Scout, and I adore him -- and he adores Ginny. He has a total crush on her, which is hilarious because she could not possibly care less about other dogs, and actively turns her back on him.

And then there are pugs. Which are the best. Pugs kill me. I've been lucky enough to have full-breed pugs twice now in rescue, and they were both awesome dogs. Tilda, if any of you have been following me and remember her, was my perfect dog. I always say that I'll keep fostering till I meet my perfect dog, and she was it. But my dad was sick, so I let her get adopted because I didn't think I could take care of her well enough and him. So of course he died a couple weeks after she got adopted; at least she was here when it happened because I was dog-sitting for her when her new peeps were on a trip, and it made that a whole lot easier to take. Man, she was awesome. And I guess she was the ring-bearer in their wedding recently.

I love smoosh-faced dogs. A lot of people don't, so I often get them when they come in to the group. One of the weird side-effects of loving them was that I got over the worst of my snoring issues -- they make so damn much noise that I got desensitized to snoring of roommates at con hotels. That was quite an unexpected bonus.

Speaking of dogs, if you follow the link to Motley Zoo up above, you can see a picture of my Ginny, greeting someone at an adoption event wearing her shark fin for Halloween. The dreaded shark terrier, she is fearsome and mighty!
gwyn: (pete sdwolfpup)
I'd been told in passing that they had an approved application for Ginny's adoption and the adopter was coming to the event on Saturday. So I bundled her up with all her stuff and drove over to Redmond, which is far away, and I didn't know that the Viaduct, which is a major highway in my area, was closed for the weekend, which makes it almost impossible to get off the peninsula I live on. My back was just so bad after the whole crisis mode this week, and I was in so much pain when we got there. No one seemed to know anything about the adopter coming and if it was confirmed.

It's as hard to stand as it is to sit, and the adoption events are basically us just standing around for four or five hours with the animals. I finally had to go get something to eat, and left Ginny in a crate for a while, poor kid -- she hates it when I do that, she's so heavily imprinted on me. Finally quitting time rolled around, and as much as I love petting the bunnies and the kittens and holding the little dogs -- there's a sort of almost bald little min-pin called Bettie Paige whom I adore and love to cuddle, who's been waiting to be adopted longer than even Ginny has -- and smelling the puppies, it's hard on me at these things. And hard on Ginny since she hates standing around and also has to endure a lot of people coming up to her making high-pitched noises and grabbing her because she's so cute.

Anyway, as I was leaving, the rescue group person came up to me and apologized for the adopter -- it turned out he decided to adopt a puppy while he was there, and no one bothered to tell me. I asked if it was the guy who lived in the retirement center who'd told me he was going to get her, but she said no, it was a gay guy and he and his partner were the ones who were coming to adopt her. That would have been lovely for her because a couple would be so much nicer than a single person. I was so bitter and angry -- I was like, DIAF random gay guy, but then of course I felt bad thinking that because I mean, he at least adopted A dog even if it wasn't Ginny.

It's hard when it's like this. She's been with me longer than any dog I've had, and I just do not understand why she hasn't been adopted. She's fucking adorable. And she's also imprinted on me so much by now that it will be a lot harder on her to move somewhere else. It's always an adjustment for them, but pretty rough when they've lived somewhere else for so long, especially after coming from a really bad situation. Not that I would stop doing it, but this has been the roughest situation I've ever had -- first the stress with the cats resulting in the bite, her health problems, my health problems, blah blah. I just want her to get a home and be loved and happy.
gwyn: (george _jems_)
The past two days have just been so, so awful. I don't have any icons of people sobbing from frustration and pain, but if I did I would use it.

I woke up on Tuesday morning to an overpowering stench in the room, and thinking it was my kitty Olive, who sleeps near my face, I was grumbling about my stinky kitties when I heard Ginny scratching at her crate door, something she never does. She had peed on the rug -- something else she never does -- a couple weeks ago, and so I'd got back in the habit of closing her crate door at night. She loves her crate, is in there most of the time, so she doesn't mind the door being closed, but I'd wanted her to feel more like this was her house and she could move around and had left it open the past few months.

So the stench was coming from her crate -- she was huddled in the only spot in the crate that wasn't covered in shit and puke. She has this weird habit of backing up against something to poop -- a plant, a post, a tree trunk -- and she'd had some kind of massive diarrhea attack and poo was all over the walls of her crate, and in the front was a pile of barf. Of course I let her out and she immediately started shaking poo all over the place. As I leaned down to stop her, I felt my lower back just ripping, and the chronic disk problem I've had just went from bad to horrible.

So I had to clean her up (her spreading shit all over everything I'd just washed), clean up the debris, bathe her, then wash the crate out and sanitize her bedding...it took me over four hours to get everything clean and the crate still smelled like shit. The cats were freaking out because I had to clean things before I could feed them and getting in the way. And I could tell Ginny felt horrible, and she kept cowering down and rolling on to her back, poor kid.

So that wasted most of my day, and after everything was finally finished I bundled her in the car and we went to Dairy Queen for an ice cream because I was so fucking miserable. The smell just took forever to go away, and her poop was still too soft and runny at night and I was worrying about her tummy problems so I put piddle pads everywhere around the house.

Then yesterday on our morning walk (she didn't want to eat her breakfast, and was shaking a bit), she had bloody diarrhea, and I asked the rescue folks if I should take her in. Of course, all this is time I needed to work on the book that's due tomorrow, but they wanted me to take her to the vet they use. After my workout and the chiropractor, where I had a nervous breakdown about all the money I've spent on my back and it's not getting better (worse, in fact, since the past month I've had a whole new back problem that was ruining my life) and I'm so sick of being in pain, I took Ginny to the horrible vet's.

I despise this place. But most of the rescue groups in town go there because they're cheaper and they give discounts, and they're open all the time, and all that. I mean, I HATE this place. It's gross, I can't understand what any of the doctors say because most of them are relatively new English speakers, and it's in a really low-rent neighborhood that brings in lots of people who are really unenlightened about what it means to have pets, and you see some just really awful things. Including, as I was waiting for Ginny, a woman bringing in her dog in a blood-soaked towel screaming about him being run over by a car and help me save my baby and her guts are hanging out.

I am notorious for being a soft heart, and I can't stand any form of animal harm or suffering. I mean, I cannot stand it. I have never seen anything this awful, except maybe the time I was there and a couple were picking up their dog that had been attacked by a coyote and was covered in hundreds and hundreds of stitches and drainage shunts. No, this was more awful. And then the front desk woman took her into a room with the dog, and started telling her up front how much it would cost, and the people in the lobby with me were all just, WTF? Who cares, just save the doggie.

The vet came out and asked if I could come back for Ginny at 7. There was no way I could stand a drive home and back, I was in such screaming agony, so I drove down to the area I grew up in as a teen, to Denny's, and got some dinner, but I felt like barfing the whole time and I was shaking like a leaf. I had tried to help the woman calm down, get her to breathe and focus so she could call her boyfriend, not pass her fear on to the poor little dog. She was covered in blood. It was so, so horrible.

When I finally got back there, I asked the woman at the desk if the dog would make it, and she shook her head. She told me why she had been mentioning cost to her -- I guess this woman has come in before many times, and she's really belligerent and bullying. Not that that made it feel any better, but at least I could see why she had done that up front while they got a doctor from the back area. I just wanted to break down and cry, the stress of all this crap and having a book due and the constant, unending pain, which is so much worse in the car.

Ginny may have a potential adopter that we're meeting on Saturday, which I'm glad about but also bummed because I'll have to miss my writing group, which I love. She's a little better today -- they gave her fluids and some injections which I don't fully understand, but her poo seemed a little better this morning. I have to give her pills, something I always hate doing when you meet a potential adopter because sometimes it freaks them out that they're getting an unhealthy dog. I've had her longer than any other dog I've fostered; I don't understand why, since she's actually pretty adorable and mostly awesome.

And at least I was able to finish the book this morning, but I have to go back through it now and fine tune the edits. It's been hard to concentrate because of the pain. Anyway, like I said, it's been a really, really bad couple of days and I wish I could just sit down with some alcohol, but I have work to do now. If you feel like sending me something happy in comments, I would love that.
gwyn: (mack daddy)
Sometimes I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. Well, actually, I wonder that all the time, but specifically, I started a story for the Idyll Challenge mentioned in my last post, and I'm at 2,900 words and I've only just begun. The longest story posted to the challenge so far is 1,400 words or so. Why is it so hard for me to write anything short? Why can't I just get to the fucking point (or the point of fucking, since let's face it, what's an idyll without some sexing going on)?

Also, I really need to get some icons for Pacific Rim.

I've been remiss in posting pics of my newest foster dog, Ginny. She's kind of a handful. Really cute and super, super sweet, but she keeps going after my cats and not in a "just chasing" way. She kind of loses her rag when she seems them move around, especially in the yard. She's getting slightly better about it in the house, but it's making life very difficult for me and stressing me out a bit, not to mention stressing the cats out, who are living in the kitchen on the table and counter. Olive is getting a little better about moving around in the house, but she's still pretty wary -- usually she's like "come at me bro" whenever a dog is uppity, but she's really scared about Ginny. (Possibly because of the screeching and hysterical barking.)

I have to keep her on the leash at all times, and watch her. Yesterday at the adoption event, I bought a 20 foot cable lead so I could tie her up outside, since she likes to be outside and hang out on the porch in the sun. This way if she goes after the cats, she can only go so far and then she'll bounce back, and she can't escape -- which she's done four or five times so far, not something you really want with a foster dog. But she's the exact opposite of what they told me -- she loves kids, she loves meeting new people, she is fine with other dogs, and she chases my cats. That's the thing about fostering -- it's like roulette.

Anyways. Time to get back to writing. Will try to get something meaningful up at some point here. (Christ, I still haven't done my pics of Boston and England.)
gwyn: (troy abed hug)
I had a sudden desire for some fic last night for a...pairing that's not...common, I think, and I searched on AO3, like ya do, and only six things came up and they were all either not really about that pairing or the pairing was one of about a hundred pairings and the fic was all tagged with these annoying Tumblr style tags that made me want to run in the other direction. There were two things I read, and they were not really about that at all. Whispers: is there any, um, Thor/Coulson fic out there in the universe? ::hangs head in shame:: Please don't judge me.

I also had this story start unspooling in my brain that was...uh, Coulson/Steve, and Coulson/Clint, and it was going pretty well in my mind as I fell asleep and I'm trying to decide if I should start writing it and see where it goes. Who the fuck AM I anymore? I don't know. I don't even know.

I'm also finally -- FINALLY! -- starting in on the Coulson/Clint fic that I asked for recs for an eon ago. And I've discovered a whole new squick I didn't know I had! Thank you, fandom, for helping me to find out how many things make me curl into a helpless ball of whimpering misery, even when something's really well written.

I do not have Panda Bear anymore. I had to give her back to the person who was caring for her when she had her pups. To say I feel like a failure is putting it mildly. But I could never stop her whining, no matter what I did, and she kept trying to run away (successfully on a few occasions), and wouldn't stop chasing Blues, and just...it had gotten really bad. I took her to the dog park many times, and realized that she needed to be around other dogs. She would growl at people who tried to pet her -- or, well, anyone, really -- on our walks, which is tough because everyone wants to pet her since she's so effing cute, and the previous foster mentioned how she was a) silent, b) sweet, c) uninterested in cats, and d) completely obedient, the only difference being she has other dogs and I don't, and we realized she had to be in an environment where she wasn't the only dog. At the dog park, she was sweet, friendly, happy, and silent. She would make an amazing agility dog, though, I realized as well.

Cesar always says on Dog Whisperer that dog parks are not for exercise, but he has clearly never been to the dog parks here. They are so different in California, but here the dogs can run and run and explore to their heart's content. We did two miles at least at Marymoore Saturday, after she'd spent the day with one of her puppies, and she ran and ran and ran, to the point I almost lost her in the parking lot when she attached herself to a pack who were leaving. But it was amazing to watch her go. I hope whoever gets her recognizes that in her. And now I realize I missed the Westminster dog show...crap. This is the first time in years I've missed it!
gwyn: (pete sdwolfpup)
I have a new foster dog. Things are not...great, actually, and I'm having a lot of problems with her. But fortunately for her, she's really effing cute -- a Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix named Panda Bear (she and her pups are named in honor of the Build a Bear foundation grant our group received when she was taken in). I know some of the trouble stems from her coming here and leaving her babies -- she was preggers when they got her, and her pups are being adopted out, so she went to a new foster home after weaning, which is lucky me. I've never had a dog who whines like this, all the freaking time. It isn't even whining, it's more like shrieking. And there are all sorts of other behavior issues. Lucky me.

But hey, like I said, cute:
Panda 1

Panda 2

Panda 3

The good thing is that she's a bundle of energy, which means I have to walk fast and far with her. The bad thing is...well, everything else. Know anyone in the Pacific NW looking for a really cute, young small dog who loves to play and cuddle?
gwyn: (pete sdwolfpup)
I have a new foster dog. Things are not...great, actually, and I'm having a lot of problems with her. But fortunately for her, she's really effing cute -- a Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix named Panda Bear (she and her pups are named in honor of the Build a Bear foundation grant our group received when she was taken in). I know some of the trouble stems from her coming here and leaving her babies -- she was preggers when they got her, and her pups are being adopted out, so she went to a new foster home after weaning, which is lucky me. I've never had a dog who whines like this, all the freaking time. It isn't even whining, it's more like shrieking. And there are all sorts of other behavior issues. Lucky me.

But hey, like I said, cute:
Panda 1

Panda 2

Panda 3

The good thing is that she's a bundle of energy, which means I have to walk fast and far with her. The bad thing is...well, everything else. Know anyone in the Pacific NW looking for a cute small dog who loves to play and cuddle?
gwyn: (bumble _hellsbelles)
I'm trying to take Greg Lake's Christmas song's line to heart this year. I've been really battling the sads this year. The other day was the anniversary of Dad's death, and I am really missing him this year, more than last year because I was still trying to process his death and working on a big book. Now I'm realizing how alone and lonely I feel and I can't call him and wish him either a Merry Christmas or a happy birthday, which comes 2 days after Christmas.

And I was telling someone yesterday how big of a deal Christmas always was in my house. My sister, especially, made it quite the deal, and extravagant gift-giving was her raison d'etre, so we were always competing with each other to see who could lavish the other twin with the best gifts. It's so weird to have an empty tree that a couple years ago I wrapped up empty boxes because I couldn't stand it. Hey, it works for retail, right? And the few friends I do have don't do gifts, so there's not that excitement level I always had with my family about having something to open. It's not the getting so much as the opening.

We had out little whacky white elephant gift game at the local fan bash Saturday and I came away empty-handed. For some reason, that made me feel even worse than I already did -- like, shit, I don't even deserve white elephants. I'm trying to deserve a better holiday by donating and doing things for other people, the one thing that does always make me feel better, but it doesn't seem to be working this year.

The holidays are really not that joyous an occasion for most people. It seems like amost everyone I know just dreads them.

I hope Yuletide will cheer me up -- it will if my recipient is happy, I think. Hope. That always gives me the most glee -- when someone gets a story they feel really fit the bill. I have all my fingers crossed that it does.

One good piece of news, though -- [personal profile] black_bird_777 is going to adopt Buffy! I have been getting increasingly depressed about her chances to find a forever home because so many people act like they're going to do it, but then they don't. She's such a sweetheart, and has so much love to give, that it's hard to see her passed over. She fell totally in love with black_bird and her partner when she stayed with them one day I had to be away the whole day, and I think this will be awesome. I get to see her whenever I want to! I never get to see my foster dogs, so now having my last dog down the street and my current dog at my friend's house -- that will just be truly wonderful.

Speaking of which, I think it's time for her evening walk and to go look at the holiday lights around the neighborhood.
gwyn: (bumble _hellsbelles)
I'm trying to take Greg Lake's Christmas song's line to heart this year. I've been really battling the sads this year. The other day was the anniversary of Dad's death, and I am really missing him this year, more than last year because I was still trying to process his death and working on a big book. Now I'm realizing how alone and lonely I feel and I can't call him and wish him either a Merry Christmas or a happy birthday, which comes 2 days after Christmas.

And I was telling someone yesterday how big of a deal Christmas always was in my house. My sister, especially, made it quite the deal, and extravagant gift-giving was her raison d'etre, so we were always competing with each other to see who could lavish the other twin with the best gifts. It's so weird to have an empty tree that a couple years ago I wrapped up empty boxes because I couldn't stand it. Hey, it works for retail, right? And the few friends I do have don't do gifts, so there's not that excitement level I always had with my family about having something to open. It's not the getting so much as the opening.

We had out little whacky white elephant gift game at the local fan bash Saturday and I came away empty-handed. For some reason, that made me feel even worse than I already did -- like, shit, I don't even deserve white elephants. I'm trying to deserve a better holiday by donating and doing things for other people, the one thing that does always make me feel better, but it doesn't seem to be working this year.

The holidays are really not that joyous an occasion for most people. It seems like amost everyone I know just dreads them.

I hope Yuletide will cheer me up -- it will if my recipient is happy, I think. Hope. That always gives me the most glee -- when someone gets a story they feel really fit the bill. I have all my fingers crossed that it does.

One good piece of news, though -- [personal profile] black_bird_777 is going to adopt Buffy! I have been getting increasingly depressed about her chances to find a forever home because so many people act like they're going to do it, but then they don't. She's such a sweetheart, and has so much love to give, that it's hard to see her passed over. She fell totally in love with black_bird and her partner when she stayed with them one day I had to be away the whole day, and I think this will be awesome. I get to see her whenever I want to! I never get to see my foster dogs, so now having my last dog down the street and my current dog at my friend's house -- that will just be truly wonderful.

Speaking of which, I think it's time for her evening walk and to go look at the holiday lights around the neighborhood.
gwyn: (yuletide lights)
Finished my Yuletide story first draft last night. It's shameful, really, I should have been finished weeks ago, but...wow, I have a hard time writing still these days. Anyway, now I need to shape it up and hopefully find a beta if I can.

And then get started on Festivids. I've been waffling about song choice for the longest time, and I just need to clip at least, and with any luck the song will come along. I have had one in mind for a long time, but it's not quite perfect for this particular situation, and I've tried a bunch of other good ones, but none of them feel perfect.

I did the friending meme on kouredios' LJ and so there might be some new people reading this -- hello! ::waves:: I have to get my ass in gear and start adding to my circle as well. I will try to be more entertaining than I've been of late. And post more often. After all, conversation is the motivation behind the friending meme, so I better get conversatin'!

Buffy still isn't adopted yet. We've been to a bunch of adoption events and everyone falls in love with her, but no one seems to want to take the plunge and commit. We met a couple who are moving to Spain soon (he's in the Navy), and they seemed like they really wanted to do it, but I haven't heard anything yet so I'm starting to believe that's not happening, either. I'm kind of crushed for her. It's such a boring life here, all she does is sleep most of the time because it's just me and I'm staring at a computer all the time. She deserves so much more. The other nice thing would have been that this couple have a poodle already, so she would have had a companion of her own kind (she's a yorkiepoo).

Now that all the shows are going on holiday hiatus, I'm trying to catch up on the movies I've had piling up on the tifaux. I watched John Carter tonight. I'd had this idea that it would be better than everyone said, and I'd be all "they just didn't understand it," but nope. It really was as bad as they said. I felt kind of sorry for everyone involved. Poor Taylor, too...the guy needs something worthy of him. There were so many good people in that movie, and you could see them trying really hard, but...wow. Just so bad. And usually I can pinpoint what makes it so, however, this time, I'm incapable of ascertaining just where they could have fixed it.

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