Tag Archives: Pets

The Show Must Go On

Who says life can be boring during self-isolation? Not me, that’s for sure. Our animals have all decided that they are circus stars or at least TV stars and there’s never a dull moment around here!

You already know about Jolina and her kids, who believe they are part of a circus routine, rolling out the barrel just 20 minutes after birth.

Now we have Mama Chicken and the Magic School bus.

Our broody hen finally hatched some pollitos. She’s been an attentive mother for the most part. She kept them safe and sound in the corral for a week. Then, suddenly, one day, we hear this clucking and peeping symphony. My son ran out there yelling, “She’s decided to take them on an adventure!” And sure enough, there they were, under her wing, peeping excitedly as they left the corral.

We aren’t exactly sure what Terry will do when confronted with these chicken nuggets on legs and we weren’t ready to risk it, so back into the corral they went. My son said that she was like the teacher on the Magic School Bus cartoon. “Ok everyone, get under my wings. It’s time to head into the volcano!” Although, they may have been headed through the digestive tract instead.

Then there’s Fuzz, who has decided in retribution for the arrival of Cocoa, he’d become Douglas Fairbanks. On several occasions, he’s tried to slide down the blue screen I have for work, much like the sails of a pirate ship.

Cocoa is not one to be left out in the starring role. He’s decided that every moment possible would be a WWF session. Fuzz is the competitor whether he’s up for a romp or not. Starting as early as 5 am, Cocoa is ready for round one!

The Puppers continue their gladiator reenactments every time my son heads out into the back yard. Those of us about to die, we salute you! BATTLE COMMENCE! George, of course, takes on the starring role as the head dog. I will vanquish you, Fred!

Red has been fitted with his first saddle. He’s too young to be ridden, but my husband has been having him run in circles with the saddle on so that he becomes accustomed to it. Lady has a new set of shoes and happily does a little tap dance every time her hooves hit the road. All we need now are the elephants, and we’re good to go!

Terry’s contribution to the Greatest Show in La Yacata is fairly dismal. Every day, without fail, he bolts from the gate and drags my son out the door, nearly dislocating his arm. That’s really is one and only trick. Too bad he seems unwilling to try some of these tricks!

So, with all our barnyard animals joining in, quarantine, or no quarantine, the show must go on!

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Spot the Cat

A few days after Cocoa joined the gang, my son tried to introduce the new addition to the Puppers. Fred was curious but George was jealous. He barked at Cocoa who leaped out of my son’s arms and ran to the corner of the yard, curling up on himself like a pillbug. My son was disappointed. He’d hoped they could be friends.

Since the dogs aren’t getting along, we have three walks to take in the morning, and three in the afternoon. Fred and George have priority. Then Terry, as fast as possible–Terry’s choice not ours. Finally, Cocoa. He’s small, so he doesn’t go too far, but he loves the grass. He throws himself about like a kid in a ball pit. He isn’t much interested in doing his business outside though–too many things to sniff.

Our walks have added a Where’s Waldo activity just to liven things up. The borega guy has an orange and white cat that looks like a sun-bleached Garfield. This cat has taken to my son like they are long lost buddies. It comes mewing along every time it sees us, completely oblivious to the dogs.

So each of our walks, we play Spot the Cat! Sure as anything, at some point along the walk, Garfield will appear. Sometimes it’s on a rock, waiting like the Cheshire Cat. Other times it is in the cornfield, just watching us pass. 

Fred and George are absolutely stunned at Garfield’s presence, every single time. They freeze and it takes some coaxing to get them started again. Terry, when he takes the time to notice, tries to attack. The new leash has proven its mettle. Cocoa can’t see Garfield over the clover and has no reaction whatsoever. 

We’ve recently realized that Garfield is actually a Mrs. Garfield, and a pregnant one at that. She now not only appears on our walks but follows us home meowing piteously for food. She’ll only accept food from my son for whatever reason. And since she’s eating for 23 (or so my son says) she comes morning, noon, and night for more vittles. 

I think she’s taken up residence in my sister-in-law’s house and that’s where the kittens will appear. Time will tell!

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Sir Cocoa Beans

Out of the blue one day, my son calls out to me that there was a puppy in the truck. My husband hadn’t mentioned anything when he pulled the truck into the garage, so I was skeptical, but sure enough, there was a little puppy. He was from Azul the vet’s female dog’s litter and apparently in the same line that Puppy was. They have the same eyes, that’s for sure, although he didn’t get the expressive eyebrow markings that the Puppers have. 

We rescued him from the front seat of the truck and gave him some water and food. My son christened him Cocoa Beans on the spot. 

Fuzz wasn’t sure what to make of the new puppy. Initially, he took the high road and completely ignored his presence. However, towards evening, he went on an all-out attack, determined to kill the little vermin.

When that failed, he led Cocoa on a merry chase under chairs (where Cocoa got stuck) over obstacles (that Cocoa couldn’t get his stubby legs over) and outside (where Cocoa could not open the door to return).  After all that running around, Cocoa collapsed for the night in his box with some old clothes thrown in for blankets. 

The next day, nervy little puppy piddled here and there and everywhere. I put both Fuzz and Cocoa outside while I mopped and what a racket they made. Both of them spent 30 minutes crying at the door. Fuzz, who under normal conditions can let himself back in, was prevented by Cocoa who was blocking the door. 

Finally, I relented and let them in. Both were promptly horrified when their paws got wet. Fuzz retreated to a chair and I tucked Cocoa in his blanket, and they both took a nap.

Fuzz continues his torment of Cocoa. He pretends he isn’t interested, but we know better. He lays on the floor and deliberately plays with one of Cocoa’s toys to get him riled up. Or he gets up on a chair and dangles his tail like a fishing line, hoping to catch a puppy. 

I bought both of the little guys collars with bells and bow ties. Cocoa adores his collar, prancing about just to hear it jingle. Fuzz, on the other hand, was horrified. He kept trying to sneak around without making noise. It literally took him 20 minutes to “sneak” up the stairs. He was so miserable that I took it off. He’s back to sneaking up on Cocoa and pouncing. 

Cocoa has taken over Fuzz’s bed–not that Fuzz ever slept in it. Cocoa loves it. He contentedly curls up next to our bed so he won’t miss the moment I get up to use the bathroom in the night. He assumes that every time I get up, it’s time to eat. 

Since he had been eating not only his food but anything Fuzz left for later and it was making him sick, I’ve had to portion out his meals. I’ve also moved Fuzz’s food up on a chair and placed a barrier around it so Cocoa can’t knock it off and eat it all. However, this morning I realized that Fuzz has been getting up on the table and knocking the half-packet of saved food off for Cocoa. 

Because I don’t want to be stepping in poo or pee when I get up in the night, I’ve been trying to housebreak Cocoa. I tried putting a seed sack down. Fuzz and Cocoa used it as a Wrestlemania mat. Then, I got some artificial grass in the hope to encourage him to use the bathroom in a set area, but it’s only worked marginally so far.

Cocoa also came with fleas. Lots of fleas. Since Fuzz and Cocoa are Lucha libre fighters, Fuzz got fleas too. That meant a bath for the both of them. What a horrendous activity–crying, screeching, soaking wet, and then there were the unhappy animals! No one enjoyed the experience. When they were bundled up like burritos in towels, they finally calmed down. 

The flea collars I bought haven’t completely eradicated the fleas–so I expect another bath is in order. In fact, the first time we put the collar on Fuzz he started foaming at the mouth. We think he may have licked it. A second attempt was more successful, thankfully. 

With the two little guys upstairs, we’ve certainly have our hands full. But since we aren’t doing anything interesting otherwise, might as well raise two more young’uns in La Yacata. 

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