Posts Tagged puppies

Not Going Out

 

I’ve had a bit of cabin fever recently.  First, there was some snow.  To be honest, not a great deal but we live up a hill which is not pleasant to drive down (or up!) once it is icy so I prefer to stay put unless absolutely necessary.  Second, I had a dental implant and was not fit to be seen by the outside world.  The inside world wasn’t too keen either but they live with me and had to put up with it.  Don’t get me wrong, the procedure to have the implant done was no problem – just in case you’re thinking of having it done and don’t want me to scare you – it’s just that my face was swollen up a bit for a few days, I had an impressive bruise, some stitches which showed between my teeth and almost drove me crazy and a gap while I waited for the temporary crown to be made.  No pain though. Plus the swelling plumped my face out somewhat and several wrinkles disappeared although, alas, that was only temporary.

So, using the time spent indoors profitably, I opened a new Etsy shop for my dog collars as they were starting to overtake my current shop and making it look a bit too ‘doggy’.  Of course, this will not be a profitable shop because I am doing it mainly to help out the Dog Rescue but I can’t tell you what fun I’m having picking out the designs and trying to persuade my sewing machine that it really doesn’t mind stitching through multi layers of webbing and grosgrain.

Campervan Dog Collar1 (1)I know there are lots of people making dog collars out there but I can’t take any more dogs on – I already have three plus four cats – and I’m a bit far from the Rescue Centre to help with walking the dogs on a regular basis so I wanted to do something else to help.

bluechelseacollar (3)A special request for some Chelsea Football club supporters I know! (I’ve made some West Ham ones too but I’m not allowed to mention that!)

So I’ve set up ‘Ouaf Ouaf’ (or Ouaf for short) which is what French dogs say instead of ‘Woof’ and will gradually put them on there, along with the bandanas I was making before, as and when I can make them, as well as touting them around friends with dogs (and some without!) and local fund raising events.

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I’m having fun taking the photos too as you can see although this dog looks rather more like a hippo which I’m sure don’t cock their legs up to wee but you get the idea.

Muttley Dog Collar

My favourite cartoon dog of all time.  I was chuffed when I found Muttley from Wacky Races on a ribbon.

These collars have caused a bit of a commotion in the house as, every time I finish one and brandish it, chrome D ring clinking, as I like to do, the resident dogs think it’s a sign they are about to be taken out on another walk.  I’ve found it easier, in most cases, to take photographs of the collars off the dogs’ necks rather than on but a few modelling assignments have been handed out.

superstancollar

SuperStan!

Sometimes, there is just curiosity and my photo shoots attract unwanted attention.

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I tried making a sort of double fold bias tape from some Liberty fabric I had in my stash for this one which worked well and might end up being more cost effective than ribbon (especially if I don’t use Liberty tana lawn!!).

dog rescue carcassonne puppies

No blog post about dog rescue or dog collars is complete without a basket full of puppies of course.  Just look at those little faces.  Of course, being puppies these little girlies will probably soon find homes but the underlying problem is too many people – and it is a big problem in France – just can’t or won’t sterilize their dogs.  Then they let them out to wander around unsupervised and this is the result.  You can read their story here but, basically, the mother was rehomed by the Société Protéctrice des Animaux before they introduced a policy to sterilize all female dogs before rehoming and the new owner didn’t bother and this is the second litter of puppies that have had to be rescued from her as a result – the first litter and another three from this one she gave (or sold) to who knows who?

Anyway, I am off to do some vacuuming before Mr. T. gets home from the U.K. and thinks I’ve been doing nothing all week except mess with ribbon and webbing, set up amateur photo shoots and read up about what is good for bruising – arnica cream??  Then I’m going to make a bag – just for a change.

*must keep busy and not look a puppy faces *  house is full * puppies are a lot of work*  the cats won’t like it * too many dogs already* mustn’t show Mr. T  the photo as he is worse than me*no, no, I mustn’t*

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Counting Slowly To 10

………….after, I admit, uttering a very rude word when I woke up to this scene of devastation this morning.

Luckily it wasn’t, as I first thought, the contents of my sofa but of a stuffed, cat-shaped door stop.  Who knew those things contained so much stuffing and, what looks like cat litter, inside them?  Anyway, the new doggy addition to the family, rescued from the streets, had already been confined to the kitchen at nights because of his addiction to soft furnisings but, unfortunately, my darling daughter had not closed the door into the lounge properly before leaving for school at 7a.m. this morning so, by the time I got up at 8, he had run amok.

It Wasn't Me

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Stanley Socks

Look what I found!

Driving Mr. Tialys down to the doctors on Friday – a story for another time! – we saw a young dog run across the road in front of us and nearly into the side of a passing car.  Unfortunately, this sort of thing is a common sight in this part of France.  A lot of people think nothing of opening their front door in the morning and letting the dog out to wander about.  It used to freak me out completely when we first moved here but I have learnt to differentiate between the ‘old hands’ and those that are actually panicking and probably lost or abandoned.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve driven to the refuge – the police don’t want to know!  There is not really an equivalent of the RSPCA.  The local rescue centre is not publicly funded. 

Anyway, on our way back from the doctors, we saw this little chap again, down in the town centre this time so out came the collar and lead that I always keep in my glove compartment and I went and got him.  I took him to the vets where, miracle of miracles, they found he had a microchip and that they would let me know the name of the registered owner the following day.  Bearing in mind I already have 3 dogs, 4 cats and 6 chickens, it was a bit of a risk taking him home but what could I do?  I couldn’t just turf him out on the street again.  Anyway, before too long Mr. Tialys and the Tialys Teens were thinking up names for him!  I told them not to bother as he would be going home the following day.   However, turns out, the original owner had sold/given him to a family who had him for a week and then decided it was too much, what with 2 kids already and one imminent.  Given that information, I can’t really believe he ‘escaped’ as they claimed but rather they opened the door and waved goodbye.   I told the original owner that we would keep him because I am a totally insane, pathetically soft, soon to be bankrupt, fool.

Say hello to Stanley Socks, or Stan to his friends –

Just as well we’ve got the room.  Mr. Tialys must now work until he is 85 to finance all our animals – forget his dream of retiring at 50! – or I might consider registering as a charity.

But, look at his little face……….

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Chickens – Killers or Carers?

The other day my mother told me about a story she had heard on the news where a fox had got into a chicken house and, unable to get back out, the chickens killed him.  Although I would hate it if a fox took any of my chickens, I must admit I did feel a bit sorry for the fox.  What a way to go!  Also, I wasn’t entirely surprised as I have seen how vicious chickens can be.  When we still lived in England, our chickens there had somehow found a little fledgeling bird and one of them was running around with it in her beak while the others chased her for their share.  I had never realised, until then, how carniverous they were.  Anyway, we somehow managed to rescue the little fledging and, assuming it had fallen down from one of the many nests under the eaves, we put it inside our old pet rats’ cage, with the lid open, and the mother flew down every day to feed it.  In the end, it managed to fly off.

On the other hand, when we had a broody hen, a neighbour gave us some fertile eggs and we put them under the hen.  Two of them hatched and the four adult hens fussed over those chicks all day long.  Whenever they found a tasty morsel in the garden (hopefully not baby birds), they would call to the chicks to come and eat first.  Then I read about a broody hen who. taking advantage of the family dog going outside and leaving her puppies for a moment, decided to get in with them to keep them warm.

Mabel with the puppies

 

Who said chickens don’t have personalities?

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