Maria’s view of Log Cabin Living

It was a busy day for Cowboy the cat…stalking birds, contemplating the meaning of life, posing for pictures, taking naps on the dog’s bed, and generally enjoying life.  He follows me around the yard, and even comes to the river with me and takes a long drink of the icy cold water.  Hubby is still amazed that a cat would follow a person.  I’m enjoying seeing how much he, a former cat hater, enjoys Cowboy!

Meanwhile, Daisy was playing in the snow, making a point of running as much as possible to keep her waistline trim.  At 6 years old (or is it 7?), she’s still like a puppy in many ways. 

Daisy is a rescue dog.  The previous owners almost killed her from neglect (it makes me furious to think of those idiots!).  As an animal welfare activist, I had heard about Daisy from a fellow activist.  She knew someone across the street from Daisy’s previous owner who told her about the little dog. 

So one day, my friend and I knocked on the previous owner’s door.  My friend, always fast on her feet, told the owner that we were from Animal Control and were following up on a complaint.  The lady went and got the dog and brought her outside, all the time holding her.  Long story short, after 45 minutes, we talked the lady into handing me the dog, after telling her the dog would die without veterinary care.  After she handed me the emaciated dog, we immediately turned and left in my friend’s car.

My friend and I were so appalled and disgusted at the dog’s weakened and emaciated appearance that we discussed involving Animal Care and Control to press charges against the owner, but we decided not to, realizing that they would take the dog as “evidence,” and I didn’t want to give her up.

The vet’s office was closed, so I took the dog home with me, planning to take her to the vet in the morning.  The dog was skin and bones and was so weak that she could not stand up.  I determined that she was not only starved, but she was severely dehydrated, too.  She hadn’t even been given any water!!

That night, the dog began convulsing, which scared the hell out of me.  I stayed by her side for hours, and it occurred to me that her name should be “Daisy.”  The next day, the vet took the dog as an inpatient for 3 days, warning me that the dog would probably not survive.  Somehow, I knew she would survive!  The vet said that without care, the dog would have been dead within 24 hours, due to the severe dehydration.  She told me the dehydration had caused the previous night’s convulsions.  Daisy was in “intensive care” for 3 days.

Once I brought her home, she still had trouble standing up.  I gave her tender loving care, as she began to gain weight and become stronger.  It took 2 months for her to get her full strength back, and then look out!  She’s part Jack Russell terrier, and I found out quick how active they are! 

She has a happy go-lucky, adorable personality.  What a sweet, loving little dog.  How could a person treat her the way those people did?!