Movin' With the Times

(Picture Left: Chiva --Sweet dog who almost followed her owner's misfortunes. But, for her, changing times to be good times.)

I pulled a new dog off the Euth list yesterday.

"Chiva" is neither a puppy, a purebred, a small dog or a drop dead, ravishing beauty.

Moreover, she is a black Pitbull mix and black dogs, especially Pittie mixes tend to be very tough adoptions.

But, you know what?

Nothing is "normal" these days.

We still have Foxy, the sweet and devoted little red Pomeranian mix rescued more than three months ago.

Meanwhile, several of our larger and older "mutts" have recently been adopted.

Go figure.

I pulled Chiva because she was described as a nice and mellow dog by shelter volunteers and she has a pretty good behavioral eval. She is 5-years-old and appears to be healthy.

Chiva was dropped off at the shelter by someone who claimed Chiva's owner had recently died.

Animals whose owners have either become sick or died tend to win my sympathy because I think, "There but for the grace of God go my animals." Were something to happen to me, I would hope that my dogs and cats would find safe haven. I therefore feel greater obligation to try and help those animals whose owners have fallen on some kind misfortune out of their control.

Chance, my Pomeranian, for example, was dumped off at the shelter by relatives who claimed Chance's real owner was in the hospital.

It's too bad we can't reassure the former owners of some of these animals that their pets are OK and have found loving homes. I sometimes wish I could have done that for whoever formally owned Chance. -- I think he was a very loved (if not somewhat spoiled) dog.

For now, Chiva will go into boarding later today.

But, I am reasonably optimistic about getting a foster or potential adopter for her relatively soon.

As said, nothing is "normal" these days. What was once down is now up and what was formally up now seems to be crashing.

"The slow one now will later be fast /
As the present now will later be past

Yep. As Dylan once sang,

"The times, they are a changing."

And we gotta adapt and move with 'em. -- PCA

******

(Same Old) Shelter Blues

(Picture Left: Spencer -- loving, healthy purebred Cocker Spaniel who almost died for a shelter mistake)

Rudy, our sweet little Pekingese was adopted last night. While it was surprising that a loving and totally adorable little dog like this failed to generate many adoption inquiries, the one call we got on Rudy turned out to be high quality and the appropriate home for him to go to. Rudy seemed to connect strongly to his new people as they to him (two young men who live together as partners). Both Rudy's foster person and I are very confident that the little Peke has gone off to a happy life where he will be pampered and adored.

That is of course, what we want for all of our animals.

There is good news on Daisy, as well. Though very stressed while in boarding, Daisy is happy and doing marvelously in her new foster home with Carrie and her family. The fact we can now say that Daisy is good with kids, cats and other dogs should help facilitate her ultimate adoption -- although in the current economic crisis, it is very hard to predict or feel particularly optimistic about anything.

As Carrie has become accustomed and comfortable with fostering two dogs at a time, she volunteered the other day to go to the shelter herself and pick out a new dog to foster. We both agreed that the new foster dog should probably be older and smaller than Daisy in order to minimize potential stresses in the home. It was also preferable that the new dog be a male, as generally opposite sex dogs are more compatible (Daisy is already spayed).

As circumstance would have it, there was a lovely, extremely sweet and basically healthy (already neutered!) male Cocker Spaniel at the pound, who, unbelievably was on the Euth list for the following day!

Why was "Spencer" on the list of doom?

Well, apparently either his former owners misspoke when indicating the little dog's age to be "18" or the person doing the Intake behind the counter make a whopper of a typo.

Although, Jesse, the New Hope Coordinator sent Spencer's information out in an email alert to rescue, the fact his age was indicated as "18" obviously deterred rescues from coming forward on him.

For a dumb mistake, a loving, Cocker Spaniel almost died.

To her credit, Jesse did pull Spencer from the Euth list and requested a further "evaluation" on him by the medical staff. She also pointed Spencer out to Carrie.

"18-years-old?" Carrie exclaimed. "Damn, this dog can't be 18! Can you have a vet look at him to reassess the age? Patty will have my ass if I pull an 18-year-old dog!"

Jesse brought Spencer back to medical to have a vet evaluate his real age. And to no one's surprise, the attending vet said the dog was more likely 8-years-old, not 18.

When asked by Carrie, why this error wasn't discovered sooner, the vet replied that when an animal is a "owner surrender" with an indicated age, the vet's don't bother to check or reevaluate.

That probably explains why so many of our shelter's animals have incorrect ages posted on them -- many times indicated to be older than they actually are.

Personally, I believe that many owners turning in animals give incorrect information: "I had the dog ten years!" when in fact, they only had the animal 6 or 7 years. It sound better and more committed to say one had the animal longer than they actually did. In other cases, owners simply don't remember exactly when they got the animal and round off to the highest number.

That shelter vets don't bother to question or check this information, is, to put it bluntly, disgraceful -- especially when it results in an animal dying for what really is shelter error and incompetence.

There are, in fact, many problems with New York City's animal sheltering system - a few of which have hit media reports over the past couple of days.

Apparently, the Brooklyn shelter recently experienced an outbreak of a deadly canine flu (or other) virus and a number of dogs died in their cages. Others were euthanized and still others were sent to the Manhattan shelter. For a few days, the shelter "shut down" and refused to take in dogs from the public.

All of this was kept very under wraps until some people leaked it to the press.

Unfortunately, what the press doesn't say is that sickness problems are very common in NYC shelters which are simply too overcrowded and understaffed all of the time.

The bottom line is we don't have enough animal shelters in NYC to competently and safely handle the volume of animals from a public comprised of over 8 million people.

Until shelters are built in the Bronx and Queens to deal specifically with those boroughs' animals, then dogs (and cats) like Spencer and thousands of others will continue to fall through the gaping holes of societal and political neglect. -- PCA

**********

Sands of Time and Circumstance

(Picture Left: "Bernie" (formerly, Brownie) the "Demon Dog." Ah, how pictures sometimes deceive!) ;)

I have frequently written of Carrie, our most reliable foster person and a bonified "dog whisperer" in her own right.

Over the years, Carrie has taken on many tough challenges. Distrustful Chows who take time to trust and love. Sensitive German Shepherds with issues of timidity and overprotection and at least a couple of very lovable, high energy Pitbulls.

Carrie has never complained about any dog or given up on one -- until this past year.

And that was with an adorable, 12 pound Tibetan Spaniel originally named, "Brownie."

I rescued Brownie from Animal Control, mostly because he looked very much like one of my own dogs, Tina.

I was quite sure Brownie would be an "easy foster" for Carrie. He was an older dog (about 9-years) who was from a home and was very friendly with me in the shelter, constantly licking my hand.

"I am sure you will only have this cutie a couple of weeks" I said to Carrie around October of last year. "He is a real sweetie!"

But, as noted many times on this blog, animal rescue and placement is often as unpredictable as the most fickle lover.

It turned out that I was as wrong about Brownie's "adoptability" as I had been about Willow's "unadoptability."

The little dog had major resource and food guarding issues as well as a penchant for attacking every visitor to Carrie's home.

Carrie attempted to work with Brownie through the food guarding and other issues, but when he bit one of her daughter's, Carrie's patience wore thin.

"The little bastard can bite me or my husband and even visitors to my home, but when it comes to my kids, I have to draw the line, Patty!" Carrie said one day shortly before leaving for a one week vacation before Thanksgiving. "I'll hold him until next week, but I can't take him back when we return from Hawaii."

I placed Brownie in boarding when Carrie and her family left for the trip. But, he didn't work out in the boarding facility either.

After only a few days, I received a call from the owner of the boarding establishment telling me I had to get Brownie out of there as he was attempting to bite every member of his staff.

"Nobody can handle him here and I can't put my employees at risk." Dale told me. "I'm sorry, but Brownie can't stay."

I was suddenly in a real mess with the "adorable little Tina-like dog" who I thought would be such a quick and easy adoption.

Brownie was no Tina!

But, as so often happens when I seem to be facing the dreaded "E" word (being forced to euthanize an animal because of a major behavioral issue and having no place to put him or her) a miracle seemed to suddenly come through for Brownie.

I received a call from a very enthusiastic and earnest woman eager to help a dog through foster.

"I was told you guys are always looking for people to foster dogs," Doreen told me. "I have a house in New Jersey, a dog and three cats and I am willing to help save a life."

"Really?" I asked, not quite believing I could suddenly be so lucky. "Well, we have this little dog named Brownie who we desperately need a foster for right now....."

I went on to explain to Doreen the entire story with Brownie right down to the fact he was being kicked out of the boarding facility and I had literally no place to send him other than back to Animal Control where he would surely be euthanized for having bitten a number of people.

"He can be really sweet and always has been with me," I told Doreen. "But, Brownie also has a dark side. One has to go carefully with him. He's a very needy dog who seems to need someone all to himself."

"Well, I am willing to help!" Doreen said. "I'm very experienced with dogs and to tell you the truth, my last dog who recently passed at 17 years could be a bit temperamental."

The next day Doreen drove in from Jersey and fortunately for me, Brownie was on his best behavior with her. Indeed, Brownie was very drawn to Doreen's passionate, quirky and high energy Italian temperament.

He immediately jumped in her car and sat comfortably on Doreen's lap as she started the car.

"Are you sure that's safe, him on your lap like that?" I asked with concern.

"Sure, it's fine! I'll let you know how its going after I get home!" Doreen chirped as she drove away, a happy, cheerful dog on her lap.

Over the next few weeks, Doreen updated me with several reports on Brownie (who she named "Bernie.")

Bernie had attacked Doreen's boyfriend, other dog, a couple of the cats and everyone who dared approach her car when Bernie was in her lap.

"But, other than those things, Bernie's been a real sweetheart!" Doreen added. "He sleeps under the covers with me at night, comes everywhere with me and even seems to like it when I dress him up!"

Shortly before Christmas, Doreen sent me the above picture which would even put a smile on Scrooge.

I suggested she should try to market the photograph to one of the greeting card companies.

Earlier last week, Doreen called to confirm, Bernie was hers. She wanted to officially adopt him. "Yes, he's a little bastard, but I love him to death. I told my boyfriend, Bernie is all I wanted for Christmas!"

Today, I am sending Doreen the adoption contract.

But, that's not the total end to the story:

The other night, while at the boarding facility, I met Jane, a former colleague and acquaintance who I worked with ten years ago in fighting for reforms in the city shelter. Jane is currently helping to walk some of the dogs in the boarding facility.

Later, Jane and I talked on the phone to catch up on old and new times.

"By the way, what did you do with that little Tibetan Spaniel mix you had at the place a while ago? He was one very nasty little dog! Scary. He used to lunge every time I or anyone walked by. I called him, 'Demon Dog.' Did you have to have him euthanized?"

"Oh no! Well, you probably won't believe this, but........."

As had been said on this blog many times by myself and others:

"No animal is truly unadoptable."

If there was a special person out there for the crazy "little bastard dog" Bernie, there is a special person for every dog and cat.

That only we could find them all before the sands of time and circumstance run out. -- PCA

******

Complex Questions with No Definitive Answers (Reply)

Lisa D Writes: As to the "unadoptable" animals, your story of Willow is an argument against that. There is a book recently published by the man who trained most of the Annie dogs (all rescues). There are several who would have been labelled "unadoptable," including one who had to live in his cellar for a time until he tamed the dog's aggressiveness. My little dog was at death's door after 5 years in a puppy mill and has made her way to a safe and happy life in Manhattan.So many good stories, and, as you say, so many others without a happy ending.

Reply: Unfortunately, we usually don't hear about the ones with unhappy endings.

For example, the Animal Cops shows on Animal Planet:

The shows will focus on the dogs who were brought back from the brink of death -- usually requiring complex surgeries and intensive care. And not say anything at all about all the healthy and friendly animals going down every day of the week. -- Animals whose only "disability" was not finding a loving home in time.

One of the most common stories on the Animal Cop shows are when the agents have to raid the home of a "horder" (or backyard breeder) and confiscate about 50 animals usually due to the owners simple failure to neuter any.

The animals are usually in horrible condition, unsocialized and living in total squalor.

But, often the investigators can find one or two adoptable kittens or puppies and following medical care, those particular animals will find loving homes at the end of the show.

"Happy story" as long as we don't bother to question what happened to the other 49 cats or dogs. Or inquire why the former owner wasn't arrested or at least fined for allowing a situation like this to occur. (Spay/neuter needs to be made mandatory by law!)

This past weekend, Animal Planet premiered a new show: "From Underdog to Wonderdog" that tests the limits of credibility and reality.

In this new show, a team comprised of dog trainer, groomer, a carpenter and (I believe) a vet tech, rescue a dog from a rescue! The dog (in this case, a Yorkie who had been hit by a car and abandoned by the previous owners) is given star treatment from medical care, grooming and training to luxurious surroundings and pampering. Adopters (who we hope have been suitably screened in terms of how and why their last dog "died" after only having the dog a few years) are not only given the dog at the end of the show, but also an entire array of gifts, including a fully "dog friendly" yard and dog house constructed by the carpenter!

I only had to wonder after watching this show if rescue groups and shelters will now be expected to provide adopters with free gifts and home reconstruction?

What next?!!!

I was actually contacted by the producer of this new show a couple of months ago.

But, when asked if we had adoptable dogs who urgently needed medical, grooming and behavioral care, I had to answer honestly that when we rescue dogs we tend to take care of these issues immediately. "What kind of rescue would we be if we didn't attend to the medical and grooming needs of our animals?" I asked.

Anyway, it is very disconcerting the expectations that are being put on rescues and shelters, primarily by the media, but fostered by many of the large organizations (such as the ASPCA) who, while having the resources and money to perform "back from the dead" rescues, often and usually turn a blind eye to the millions of healthy, friendly animals dying in shelters every year. Animals who rather than requiring life saving surgeries or months of intensive care, simply need people to promote, foster or adopt them!

While I fully agree with your point that very few (if any) animals are truly "unadoptable" as especially the rehabilitation of the Michal Vick "fighting" Pitbulls proves, the question we have to ask is, "at what price?"

Does it make sense in the long run to spend limited financial resources or many months rehabilitating or bringing back from the dead a few animals at the expense and lives of the many?

I don't know the answer to that. Its a very debatable question. It's a question I had to ponder about Willow when considering the $800.00 investment to treat her for the Heartworms. That is why I had to discuss and ask Willow's foster person, Deb if her family was willing to keep Willow with the understanding the dog might never be "adoptable" even following the medical treatment.

The truly scary thing about proving that even fighting pit bulls can be successfully rehabilitated for adoption is realizing the true horror of killing the millions of healthy and loving dogs and cats in shelters every year, 90% of whom would not require such extreme measures to try and save! -- PCA

Relief and Gratitude!

(Picture Left: Daisy -- Finally out of "solitary confinement," thanks to one dog adoption and Carrie)

"You're guilty if you don't rescue and you're guilty if you do."

The above words were spoken yesterday to NYCA volunteer and main foster person, Carrie as she accompanied me to the boarding facility where I'd been keeping Daisy, a beautiful Golden Retriever/Shepherd mix for almost two months.

We were on our way to pick Daisy up, as Carrie's foster dog had just been adopted.

But, I felt I had to prepare Carrie for the fact Daisy had become quite "stir crazy" from her seven weeks in boarding. Though easy to walk when I first picked Daisy up from Animal Control, her time in "solitary confinement" (i.e. penned up all the time) had taken its toll in psychological alteration.

In recent weeks, Daisy (and another dog we have in boarding) had become difficult to walk and handle, due, I believe to the lack of stimulation, exercise and social interaction while in boarding.

Its a situation that can lead a rescuer to feel guilty for actually having saved a dog.

We don't rescue them with the intent of putting animals in long term "doggie jail" so to speak.

Although rescues and shelters constantly beg for foster people and volunteers, too often we end up having to board dogs for long periods of time because the reality is, reliable fosters are so hard to find.

And while some members of the public may feel comforted (and complacent) with the fact an animal has been "saved," the question is, what happens to that animal after the rescue?

If simply going into a cage for many weeks or months, then one has to seriously question the humanity, wisdom and justice in that rescue. (Animal care is not just about food, water and shelter.)

Are we simply "rescuing" animals from one miserable situation to put them in another?

Are we playing God or pandering to our egos in saying that we have "saved" this animal or that one, but meanwhile have failed to plan or anticipate properly for the animal's psychological welfare after the rescue?

These are questions that constantly haunt when having saved a dog, we are faced with the situation of keeping that animal in long term boarding because we can't find suitable foster or adopter.

I couldn't really predict last night how Daisy was going to be then going into a foster home following the stress of what was to me, too long a period in boarding.

But, if anyone would be able to handle Daisy and the situation, it would be Carrie.

At this point, Carrie has fostered several dozen dogs coming out of all kinds of stress situations. There is little she and her family haven't yet encountered or faced in caring for traumatized dogs.

Carrie is the one person I could feel confident and trust in sending Daisy to.

As suspected, Daisy was a little wild and scattered on the leash when we first took her out. But, she responded well to Carrie's commands and eventually settled down reasonably well on the leash.

Although Daisy seemed to respond well to children when walked on the streets, I of course had no idea how Daisy would be with Carrie's two children in the home and three cats and had to thus caution appropriately.

But again, Carrie has been through this scenario so many times before, that at this point, even her cats and two young daughters are "old pros" in terms of dealing with new dogs.

Nevertheless, Carrie is presently fostering a new cat. When at the shelter last week to rescue one cat for an available foster, I put a "memo" on a second cat. Carrie was kind enough to offer foster to the second cat, "Smokey." Smokey is a large brown tabby with a huge, "Pitbull-like" head. He is quite unique looking and a sweet boy -- at least with people and other cats. But, Smokey is not at all comfortable with dogs.

So yes, there were a lot of questions and concerns last night when Carrie agreed to take home Daisy.

But, so far the news has been surprisingly good -- except for Smokey who is not at all happy with the new dog coming in.

Smokey has attacked Daisy several times, necessitating Carrie having to separate the one cat from Daisy and causing the confused dog to be fearful of the other three cats who barely bat an eye with the new canine addition.

Having been so emotionally deprived over these past two months, Daisy is predictably very needy now and insecure. It is a dramatic adjustment suddenly going from a situation of confinement and almost no stimulation, into a lively family with kids and other pets.

But, thankfully, Daisy seems to particularly gravitate towards Carries young daughters causing one of them to remark to her Mom, "Gee, Mom, this dog needs so much attention and love!"

None of us know for sure how Daisy will behave once she feels more comfortable and secure in her foster home, but for now, I am just tremendously relieved.

Its one less dog to feel guilty about.

As said to Carrie last night, unless having available and reliable fosters for animals when they are rescued, we are otherwise damed if we do and damed if we don't (rescue) in terms of guilt and remorse.

Unless knowing we can get a dog out of boarding after only a few days or a week, it is simply one more thing to stress over.

And "compassion stress and fatigue" are very real dangers in long time shelter or rescue work. -- PCA

"Sophie's Choices" (Reply)

(Picture Left: "Lou" -- Rescued from Euth list at city pound. Wonderful cat now doing beautifully in foster home. But, Lou's rescue was one of "Sophie's Choice" as others considered with him, have since been destroyed and now only live in memory -- and guilt.)

SKDean Writes: I also hope and pray for all of us in shelter/rescue that 2009 shows some progress toward stemming the flow of unwanted animals so that some day the services that we provide will no longer be necessary.

Reply: Our services will always be needed as long as humans keep pets. Disasters happen, illnesses and death occurs. People get arrested, evicted, become disabled or simply "move" and don't take their animals with them.

Like you, I too, would love to see the day when our services were no longer needed, but I know better than to wish for that.

Instead, I simply wish that most people would "get" certain realities, such as the critical needs to neuter pets and take responsibility seriously. I would love to see the day when no shelter gasses animals and a day when no shelter dog or cat is tagged with the ghastly, disparaging names given to them by past owners (such as "Rambo," "Busta," "Capone," "Gotti," "Mace," "Stinky," "Loon," just to name a few).

I would love to see a day when the term, "unadoptable" (and therefore slated for death) would no longer be used to cover everything from ear mites to nervousness when poked by a vet tech or pinched by a so-called, "Behavorist."

I would love to see a day when all shelter animals are correctly identified in terms of breed types and age and that shelters prioritized getting as much information from past owners as possible -- i.e. "Animal Profiles." (If we don't know the animals past, it is almost impossible to predict or speculate about the type of homes that are appropriate for them or even understand much of their current behavior.)

Finally, I would love to see the day when the numbers of available adoptive homes and rescue would match the numbers of animals arriving at shelters. I would love to see animals no languishing in boarding or "no kill" facilities for months or years. I would love to finally see an end to puppy mills and back yard breeders.

But, most of all, I would love to see the day when no cat or dog would be forced to die at the pound simply because there is no loving and committed home for him/her to go to.

I don't mind that our services are needed.

I do mind that they are all too often, "Sophie's Choice." --PCA

*********

Of Dogs, Cats, Skimpy Tops and Falsies

(Picture left: Chance -- No Poofy dog is he!)

A new day and a new year.

I am glad to see the old one go, though on a personal level I can't complain too much.

As long as one is blessed with a roof over one's head and reasonably good health, it is a good year.

Chance came into my life this past year and the little feisty Pomeranian with the funny teeth, fierce protectiveness, excessive cockiness and cute as a button facial expressions never fails to bring a sense of amusement and fun.

Tina, my other dog has remained thankfully healthy, robust and enthusiastic despite her advancing age. (About 13.) With my human daughter now grown, married and living in Utah, the two dogs have become my "kids."

Cats too, are my constant companions. Granted, the cats I presently have were originally rescued with the hope and intent they would eventually be adopted. But, in a tough cat adoption climate where most cat seekers seem to demand kittens, long-hairs, declaws or exotics, I find that more than a year after their rescues, 12 cats are still with me.

The number is certainly more than I would like or consider comfortable and reasonable.

But, I have more or less given up hope that my present felines, charming as they are, can or will be adopted.

Though comfortable and friendly with me, most of the cats are shy and skittish around strangers, as they were originally rescued as strays. My cats consist of mostly peaceful brown tabbies, two black and white tuxedos, one semi feral orange female (Maria) and one extremely athletic and rowdy tortie (Dulce) who along with her tabby sidekick, Hillary loves getting into trouble, knocking things down and driving me crazy. Aside from those things, Dulce and Hillary are actually very sweet and affectionate kitties.

My life is a constant battle against pet hair in my apartment. I can vacuum one day and find little mountains of hair all over the place the next, particularly in the corners. I literally have to get down daily on hands and knees, like a bloodhound trying to hunt down criminals in mostly fruitless pursuit of the constant wayward hair balls.

Particularly since adding Chance, the Pomeranian to my home, has the war against pet hair become truly hopeless and unwinnable.

"Beautiful little puppy boy" may be a feast for my eyes and soul, but his long and dense hair is a nightmare in my apartment.

I think if I could somehow package and market all the hair and soft down I brush out from Chance along with that I try to grab from the floor, I could become a millionaire by providing "down" stuffing for pillows and warm winter jackets.

And indeed the dense and full coat on Chance must be incredibly warm!

No sooner did the clock ring in the new year when I took Tina (and now) Chance to Central Park for the annual "New Year's Midnight Run."

Though the event is intended for those die hard runners who shun Times Square in favor of a moonlit run in the park on the big night, I have made it an annual event for the dogs and me.

No, we don't run with the human pack, (since I am not a runner and the event doesn't welcome dogs), but the fact there are people in the park at that hour, along with a small fireworks display makes this a fun event every year.

Of course this year the temperature was a very brisk (to say the least) 17 degrees with zero wind chills. A thin layer of ice covered the now very sparse grass.

But, you wouldn't know any of that by watching Chance and his girlfriend Tina run in the park like it was the most glorious Springtime day!

I don't allow Tina off her retractable leash at night because of her penchant and fascination for wanting to seek out and chase raccoons. (I never claimed Tina was particularly smart.) But, Chance (lacking "herding" or hunting instincts) simply loves to run for its own sake and is very good about staying reasonably close to me and coming when called.

And boy, does this (supposedly) "ten-year-old" Pomeranian love to hop and speed like a bunny rabbit! Who says Pomeranians are "powder puff" or poofy little dogs who can't compete with the best marathoners or get their paws dirty?

He may look "poofy" but Chance is actually quite the rugged and athletic little dog!

He's also quite the "guard dog," too. So much so, he would put most Rottweilers and German Shepherds to shame.

A few days ago the doorbell rang. It was the mailman delivering my daughter's belated Christmas present to me.

Furiously barking, Chance ran to the door and was all set to do battle with whoever dared to enter!

Blocking Chance from bolting into the hallway and attacking the mailman, I carefully opened the door.

"Package for you, Ma'am" the postal worker uttered fearfully, while hastily handing off the package to me.

A few minutes later, I anxiously opened the package to discover a bunch of items from "Victoria's Secret." Two very skimpy little tops and a whole bunch of small pads to be placed inside bras (I think they were called "falsies" in the past).

Hm, what is my daughter saying to me? I wondered. That I need breast implants? Or that I need to dress more like Britney Spears?

The whole thing was quite perplexing. I was suddenly feeling very self conscious about my 34 B bust measurement.

Apparently, I wasn't "measuring up" in my daughter's eyes. -- That, and she thinks I dress too much like an old lady. Hm, how am I going to squeeze into these doll size, little skimpy tops?

Just then, Chance started to once again go ballistic. He ran to the door barking like the banshee from hell.

It was the mailman again.

"I think I gave you the wrong package."

"Oh gosh, I already opened it. Give me a minute to put the stuff back."

I hurriedly shoved all the falsies and skimpy tops back into the package, opened the door and quickly exchanged with the terrified mailman.

A young and very petite oriental neighbor stood at the top of the stairs with an anxious and embarrassed look on her face.

Equally embarrassed, I apologized and then slunk back into my apartment to open what were more appropriate gifts from my daughter: A cooking pan to cook in and a sapphire bracelet to look pretty in.

As for the falsies and skimpy tops? Hm, I'm wondering if it was Chance who wanted me to have those? (He certainly acted like it!) Hm, what's the little poofy dog trying to say to me?

I think 2009 is going to be an OK -- or even good year! -- PCA

******