Category Archives: Animal Husbandry

Staying Alive Bear-ly

Bear is feeling better!

So wouldn’t you know it, but Bear got sick. Of course, it was the weekend, and by the time Monday rolled around, he wasn’t able to keep any food down. Off to the town vet, we went.

Turns out he was running a fever because he had a parasite, respiratory, and eye infections all at once, poor guy. Although he may have picked up the infections on our walks, after all, coyotes, skunks, foxes, and other stray dogs wander about freely, it’s more likely he had these infections since we got him, and they just got worse because I didn’t know he had them. 

Bear wasn’t feeling well enough to grumble at the moto ride to town, the examination, the shots, or the waiting, although he was alert. The vet had a few signs for pets in adoption hanging up, some kittens, some chihuahuas, and two African albino hedgehogs. 

Every day for a solid week, Bear got a trip to town. During this period, Fuzz stopped eating for whatever reason, so he got a space capsule ride and an anti-parasite pill, just in case. The vet’s daughter made a fuss over him, which he loved, and he took the pill and swallowed it just for her. Whew!

By the following Monday, Bear was feeling better. He fussed a bit at the getting ready to go to town process, and while we waited, a googly-eyed pug stuck out his tongue at Bear, who barked back as if to say, “How rude.”

He got his first set of puppy vaccines and his own record book. The vet estimated he was about 5 months old.

Then George fell out of the second-floor window of my son’s house, and another round pet care began.

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Enjoy the ongoing animal adventures of one family when they move to central Mexico and try to figure it all out in the Animal Antics South of the Border series!

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Lil’Bear

Look at the size of those paws!

So a few weeks ago, my husband came home with another puppy. I was not amused. We tried to find a good home for him the first few days, but as soon as he had a name, well, that was it. Canine #5 joined our family. 

He came from Azul, the vet’s compound. His father is Blackie, who is huge and hairy but well-behaved. From what I can tell, he’s also Cocoa and Puppy’s brother from the same mother. Bear (his name because of his HUGE paws) has Puppy’s eyebrows and coloring that Fred has. Fred and George are most likely Puppy’s offspring. So we’re one big happy family. 

Lil’ Bear (or Osito) is still learning his name and where it’s ok to pee and poop and where it’s not. Lots of “clean up on aisle 5” going on. 

He’s also not convinced that taking a walk is something he really needs to do, unlike Cocoa, who could happily take 8-10 short walks a day in any weather.

Lil’Bear wants to go outside and will let me put the harness on (one that Bruce outgrew before it even arrived) but then finds a breezy, shady spot and lays down. The more I tug, the more he turns to dead weight. So I’ve had to modify our walk schedule. Cocoa still gets the majority of the walks. He’s good about keeping me from working too long without a break. Then at least twice a day, Lil’Bear goes with us. He’s our Zen reminder to stop and enjoy nature rather than the brisk and serious patrol duty that is Cocoa’s job. 

As my son is already walking Cerebus, Fred, George, and Bruce (who is technically still a puppy but has outgrown both of the older Puppers). So that means Cocoa and Lil’Bear are my responsibility. 

Lil’Bear is also very fussy when he’s tired. He moans and whines and flips and flops until he settles down for his nap. I had ordered a “cat” bed during the Black Friday sales last year that neither cat felt suitable, and Bear has claimed it as his own. 

He’s not fond of the cats. He has a high-pitched bark that seems to be his “I’m telling on you” bark when they are up on something, and he thinks they shouldn’t be. Fuzz typically ignores him, but Manchas hisses and growls, which just further intensifies Bear’s tattling.

Although Cocoa won’t admit it, he loves having Lil’Bear around. The sacred guarding of the house is no longer Cocoa’s sole responsibility, although Bear is still a rookie. Most mornings, during my exercise routine, the boys are upstairs with me, wrestling like those televised professionals on WWF. It often turns into a session of the zoomies with Cocoa launching himself from my bed over Bear’s head and then racing back. Lil’Bear isn’t quite big enough to jump on the furniture, but I’m sure that’s only a week or two away at most. 

Despite being not quite big enough for the beds, he has discovered that if he pulls the tablecloth, blanket, or mat down, he’ll be rewarded with some sort of prize (the cat’s still full food dish, the cozy comforter that’s way better than his own, or some leftover bits of people food.)

Lil’Bear has also found Cocoa’s discarded (or limbless) toy basket. He loves spreading them about and making those detached monkey arms squeak. Cocoa seems ok with that. He’s too old to play with toys, after all.

So here we are, nearly classifying as animal hoarders in our little ranchito. I hope this is the last puppy for quite some time.

Ma, how could you?

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From the hilarious antics of their pet rabbits to the unexpected challenges of raising a donkey, Animal Antics South of the Border Series is a true celebration of the joys and struggles of rural life.

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Bruce Goodboy and the Puppers Move House

A few months ago, my husband decided that Bruce needed to move out of my sister-in-law’s backyard, where he’d been living since he found and adopted us earlier in the year. It’s not that she minded. In fact, she liked having a dog around, discouraging “rateros” from any B&E. She hasn’t moved out to La Yacata yet, and the house, nearing compilation, is sitting empty. And Bruce, well, he’s imposing, to say the least. His bark is resounding, his size is eye-widening, and anyone who didn’t know any better would think he’s a threat to their safety and wellbeing.

However, we know that Bruce is a good boy and isn’t interested in attacking anyone. 

Anyway, my husband would do things like take the house keys, which are supposed to be hanging in the kitchen, so we couldn’t get in to feed, water, or walk Bruce. After about a week of these shenanigans, we moved Bruce over to my son’s house. 

That, of course, caused even more lamentations because now, how could my husband possibly cook on his barrica (barrel) stove with a DOG on the premises? Whatever.

His next rant was about Fred and George Pupper in the backyard. They’d been living there for more than five years, but now all of a sudden, it was an issue. If my husband couldn’t cook at my son’s, then he’d move the barrica to the backyard and cook there, but the dogs had to go. It’s not like we don’t have a perfectly servable kitchen AND a grill area on the back porch upstairs or anything. 

Ok. Fine. Fred and George moved over to my son’s house too. No barrica has been installed for cooking in the backyard because the CHICKENS shit all over the place. But whatever.

Walk-time became more complicated. Now, when the boys go out for their promenade, it’s like the three-headed Cerberus emerging from Hell. Bruce, being really still a puppy, is so impatient and pulls at the leash, which disturbs the sanctity of the walk imposed by George and interferes with Fred sniffing new scents along the way. I’m sure though, everyone will get the hang of walking in tandem eventually. 

There have been some mishaps as well. George fell off the roof and onto the first-floor ledge and had to be coaxed back in. Bruce fell out the second-floor window onto the ground but was fine. Fred is mighty cautious and hasn’t fallen yet, but he did drop his skunk toy on the ledge and whined until it was returned to him. 

They also had to go “camping” back in my sister-in-law’s yard while the steps to the roof were being installed. However, all things considered, it’s been a positive change. The Puppers don’t have to deal with all the chickens crowding them out of their house. Bruce isn’t by himself anymore. Everyone got a thorough bathing before the move to the FLEA-FREE abode and are a lot more comfortable because of that. 

There’s been some fighting, mostly over my son’s attention when he’s over there. Everybody wants head pats and to crawl into his lap, although no one fits anymore and hasn’t for some time. In the early evenings, my son takes his guitar over and treats the boys to some music while they dine. 

My son has even introduced his boys to the girl he is sort of dating. Bruce behaved so well that it was like he was a different dog. He sat and allowed his leash to be put on, and on the walk, he didn’t pull at all. He’s such a good boy, you see! 

As it will probably take another year to complete the house, having the boys there isn’t a problem. Once the doors and windows go on though, some housebreaking might be in order. I’ve tried to encourage my son to start on that now, but he hasn’t. Oh well, he’ll have to do the cleanup.

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You know you want to read more about our animals!! And you can in the Animal Antics South of the Border series.

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