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Tales from the Kennels, and I Get Burned Again by Online Sellers
Last weekend at the kennel was pretty uneventful, but I come bearing pics nevertheless.
This is a horrible picture but blame Tery, she took it. This is Hershey, a beautiful Burmese. Hershey is so downy soft it's like petting a cloud. As I tended to her food and water she meowed and meowed constantly, until I noticed whoever had set up her cage was so distracted by her beauty they forgot to include a litter box. The instant I gave her one she happily used it and stopped meowing. Cats are SO much easier to please than dogs.
This dog is crazy....
...and so is this one. They aren't related but they're both named Jenny. One's a miniature poodle and the other is a bichon frisé. They're both senile and half blind/deaf. And there's practically no point in letting them outside because they both just walk incessantly in circles and never do anything, except get covered in other dogs' urine. They don't make my job any easier.
Unlike this little girl, Bear. She's a schipperke and sooooo adorable. When I opened her cage she literally and unhesitatingly leaped into my arms to go walkies, earning her the title of my favorite dog of the weekend.
In addition I had 2 Britany spaniels that WERE related and practically identical except for one being much older. They were kept in the same kennel so I had to check the chart the first weekend to see which was which to give the correct food. So this weekend when I noticed that Copper was now on seizure medication, I remembered who I thought Copper was and gave it accordingly. It was only after I got home that I started to doubt myself. Sure enough, I went in Saturday night and saw that I had given the medicine to the wrong dog. I realize it's my fault, but in my lifelong quest to deflect blame I protested that it was stupid to put both dogs in the same kennel to begin with (even though Tery assured me it wasn't that big a deal).
This incident reminded me of a dog-sitting episode from my high school years. Church friends of the family wanted me to stay at their house for 2 weeks and take care of their 2 dogs and a few cats. The problem was that Fritz was supposed to get eardrops twice a day, and when they went over this I failed to take note of which dog was Fritz. Long after they were gone I stood in the kitchen face-to-face with both dogs in despair. Addressing them both as Fritz was useless because they both reacted with similar enthusiasm, both equally thrilled to have me look at them. Same result when I tried to call Fritz to follow me. Dogs are so stupid. They were both equally whiny and squirmy when I tried administering the drops. As a result, I decided it was safest to just give both dogs the drops all week.
I realize screwing up seizure medicine is 3000 times worse than messing up eardrops, but as my friend Laura said while training me, she and I both learn far more from our mistakes than from doing things right (although perhaps not, since I obviously learned nothing from the Fritz episode).
Lastly, there was Ian. Ian was an enormous black chow that the techs had left dire warnings for me not to go near, as he was unneutered, vicious and near uncontrollable. He went out during the day and they needed to use the rabies dog-catcher pole to get him back in. So when all the other dogs got to go out the first time while I cleaned their cages, I had to skip over Ian. He just stared at me dolefully as I tried to explain why he didn't get to go out, as if he spoke English (working overnight makes people exhibit some pretty crazy behavior, I'm finding). However in the morning when I made my second rounds, when the dogs get fed and let out a second time, I noticed his bowls were empty and I had to do something. I brought a cup of food and a pitcher of water, speaking soothingly and moving very slowly the whole time as I refilled his bowls. Again, he just sat and stared at me, never moving a muscle. I finished taking everyone else outside and found I had 45 minutes left in my shift (usually I cut it right down to the minute). I debated and debated as I watched Ian. The poor thing had now gone more than 8 hours (and possibly as much as 12....I'm a little unsure what goes on during the day) without a trip outside, while eating and drinking heartily. He had to be dying to pee and was too well trained to go in the kennel. Again acting like a crazy person, I had a little discussion with Ian about it, which was for the most part one-sided. Finally I screwed my courage to the sticking place (whatever that means, though it seemed to apply in this case) and opened the door wide, inviting him out. By now he was stretched out on the ground, eyeing me with polite ambivalence. I gave him a good 45 seconds before closing the door again with no small amount of relief. Hours later while discussing my night with Tery, she said it was a good thing, as I might still be chasing him instead of talking to her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I got an email from Amazon.uk with DVD recommendations for me, as if I need any help finding more DVDs to buy. They cleverly listed as the first item Spaced: Definitive Collectors' Edition, having somehow got word of my weakness for anything containing "definitive" in the title. Tery likes to joke that I'll shell out good money for a bag of ferret turds if it has the word "definitive" on it, which would be a good deal funnier if she wasn't (mostly) correct. Damn them. I pretended to have a modicum of restraint by at least first asking my friend JeffyJeff's opinion, but when he confirmed that it was one of the funniest sitcoms on British TV in recent years, I caved like the spineless DVD whore that I am.
I at least feel better about this purchase than I do about trying to buy South Park Season 8. Always, trying to save a few bucks is my downfall. I bought it from an Amazon seller ("dchatonly", again provided only for personal reference) who was brand new with no feedback. I'm burned time and time again by having the compassionate sentiment that everyone has to start somewhere, yet I keep going back for more. For being such a cynical, pessimistic misanthropist, I have a surprising generosity of spirit. Note to self: Yes, people have to start somewhere, but for god's sake let them make a name for themselves off other customers' faith for a change.
I've been waiting for almost 2 weeks now, but my patience wore thin when I received a DVD (Closet Land) from Spain that I had ordered a week AFTER South Park. Sure enough, going back to the Amazon page I saw with a sinking feeling that my seller who I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt now had an 85% negative feedback rating - out of 13 transactions, only 2 customers had actually received their items. Based on my track record, the odds of me being among the 15% satisfied customers are abysmally small. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.
Unfortunately Amazon insists on waiting a month before allowing you to register a claim, which might be a little foolhardy; a person can make great strides towards changing their identity and vanishing from public record in a month's time. Fortunately Amazon has an "A to Z buying guarantee" that I hope means they're prepared to refund my money (and that of at least 11 other buyers). Note to self: STOP trying to save a little money with riskier transactions. Stop this instant. (Oh, who am I kidding?)
This is a horrible picture but blame Tery, she took it. This is Hershey, a beautiful Burmese. Hershey is so downy soft it's like petting a cloud. As I tended to her food and water she meowed and meowed constantly, until I noticed whoever had set up her cage was so distracted by her beauty they forgot to include a litter box. The instant I gave her one she happily used it and stopped meowing. Cats are SO much easier to please than dogs.
This dog is crazy....
...and so is this one. They aren't related but they're both named Jenny. One's a miniature poodle and the other is a bichon frisé. They're both senile and half blind/deaf. And there's practically no point in letting them outside because they both just walk incessantly in circles and never do anything, except get covered in other dogs' urine. They don't make my job any easier.
Unlike this little girl, Bear. She's a schipperke and sooooo adorable. When I opened her cage she literally and unhesitatingly leaped into my arms to go walkies, earning her the title of my favorite dog of the weekend.
In addition I had 2 Britany spaniels that WERE related and practically identical except for one being much older. They were kept in the same kennel so I had to check the chart the first weekend to see which was which to give the correct food. So this weekend when I noticed that Copper was now on seizure medication, I remembered who I thought Copper was and gave it accordingly. It was only after I got home that I started to doubt myself. Sure enough, I went in Saturday night and saw that I had given the medicine to the wrong dog. I realize it's my fault, but in my lifelong quest to deflect blame I protested that it was stupid to put both dogs in the same kennel to begin with (even though Tery assured me it wasn't that big a deal).
This incident reminded me of a dog-sitting episode from my high school years. Church friends of the family wanted me to stay at their house for 2 weeks and take care of their 2 dogs and a few cats. The problem was that Fritz was supposed to get eardrops twice a day, and when they went over this I failed to take note of which dog was Fritz. Long after they were gone I stood in the kitchen face-to-face with both dogs in despair. Addressing them both as Fritz was useless because they both reacted with similar enthusiasm, both equally thrilled to have me look at them. Same result when I tried to call Fritz to follow me. Dogs are so stupid. They were both equally whiny and squirmy when I tried administering the drops. As a result, I decided it was safest to just give both dogs the drops all week.
I realize screwing up seizure medicine is 3000 times worse than messing up eardrops, but as my friend Laura said while training me, she and I both learn far more from our mistakes than from doing things right (although perhaps not, since I obviously learned nothing from the Fritz episode).
Lastly, there was Ian. Ian was an enormous black chow that the techs had left dire warnings for me not to go near, as he was unneutered, vicious and near uncontrollable. He went out during the day and they needed to use the rabies dog-catcher pole to get him back in. So when all the other dogs got to go out the first time while I cleaned their cages, I had to skip over Ian. He just stared at me dolefully as I tried to explain why he didn't get to go out, as if he spoke English (working overnight makes people exhibit some pretty crazy behavior, I'm finding). However in the morning when I made my second rounds, when the dogs get fed and let out a second time, I noticed his bowls were empty and I had to do something. I brought a cup of food and a pitcher of water, speaking soothingly and moving very slowly the whole time as I refilled his bowls. Again, he just sat and stared at me, never moving a muscle. I finished taking everyone else outside and found I had 45 minutes left in my shift (usually I cut it right down to the minute). I debated and debated as I watched Ian. The poor thing had now gone more than 8 hours (and possibly as much as 12....I'm a little unsure what goes on during the day) without a trip outside, while eating and drinking heartily. He had to be dying to pee and was too well trained to go in the kennel. Again acting like a crazy person, I had a little discussion with Ian about it, which was for the most part one-sided. Finally I screwed my courage to the sticking place (whatever that means, though it seemed to apply in this case) and opened the door wide, inviting him out. By now he was stretched out on the ground, eyeing me with polite ambivalence. I gave him a good 45 seconds before closing the door again with no small amount of relief. Hours later while discussing my night with Tery, she said it was a good thing, as I might still be chasing him instead of talking to her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I got an email from Amazon.uk with DVD recommendations for me, as if I need any help finding more DVDs to buy. They cleverly listed as the first item Spaced: Definitive Collectors' Edition, having somehow got word of my weakness for anything containing "definitive" in the title. Tery likes to joke that I'll shell out good money for a bag of ferret turds if it has the word "definitive" on it, which would be a good deal funnier if she wasn't (mostly) correct. Damn them. I pretended to have a modicum of restraint by at least first asking my friend JeffyJeff's opinion, but when he confirmed that it was one of the funniest sitcoms on British TV in recent years, I caved like the spineless DVD whore that I am.
I at least feel better about this purchase than I do about trying to buy South Park Season 8. Always, trying to save a few bucks is my downfall. I bought it from an Amazon seller ("dchatonly", again provided only for personal reference) who was brand new with no feedback. I'm burned time and time again by having the compassionate sentiment that everyone has to start somewhere, yet I keep going back for more. For being such a cynical, pessimistic misanthropist, I have a surprising generosity of spirit. Note to self: Yes, people have to start somewhere, but for god's sake let them make a name for themselves off other customers' faith for a change.
I've been waiting for almost 2 weeks now, but my patience wore thin when I received a DVD (Closet Land) from Spain that I had ordered a week AFTER South Park. Sure enough, going back to the Amazon page I saw with a sinking feeling that my seller who I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt now had an 85% negative feedback rating - out of 13 transactions, only 2 customers had actually received their items. Based on my track record, the odds of me being among the 15% satisfied customers are abysmally small. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.
Unfortunately Amazon insists on waiting a month before allowing you to register a claim, which might be a little foolhardy; a person can make great strides towards changing their identity and vanishing from public record in a month's time. Fortunately Amazon has an "A to Z buying guarantee" that I hope means they're prepared to refund my money (and that of at least 11 other buyers). Note to self: STOP trying to save a little money with riskier transactions. Stop this instant. (Oh, who am I kidding?)
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And Spaced. Yes. Good. Very good. Oh yes. Oh hell yes.
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