Well I woke up to a murder scene. Sophie’s on her first ever serious heat. Thank you, mother nature. She was obviously having trouble staying clean so we did the smart thing and took her for a trip to the pet shop for some “feminine necessities” (Oh my god I never thought I’d ever type that sentence, ha!).
So now pup-pup is rocking some seriously nifty thing made of elastic straps and “pleather” that has a napkin insert. All she needs is a cape and she can be Super Menses Mutt! When she’s outside we just slip it off so she can feel the breeze and it takes only a few seconds to put back on so she can go back inside.
I highly, highly recommend these sort of products for anyone with a dog on heat. It’s a bit kinder than exiling her to the bitches box up the back, especially with the really horrible weather lately.
New addition to the cichlid tank today- an 8cm long pictus catfish, and one of the nicest specimens Corey or I have ever seen (we’ve seen a looooooot of fish). Given the right conditions he’ll grow to 20cm easily.
We also traded some guppies over for some new rummynose tetra at the fish shop, as well as found a new home for some of my uglier baby peacocks and jack dempseys (which is how I got the pictus, for freeeeee).
Less ugly fish in the tank means more room for prettier ones later on 🙂
The dogs and cat all think Corey and I are Father Christmas today, by the way. We came home from a day in the city with a split up cow femur for them to share. They aren’t quite sharing, per se… more like playing piggy in the middle while Abby sits there confused, drowning in Links drool. Note to self, don’t pat Abby until she’s had a bath.
Happy Tuesday everyone!
This is Link, Corey’s eight year old Rottweiler cross. He’s the perfect mix of guard dog and oversized lap dog and we love him to bits. Before we lived in our current abode we lived on a tree farm, and he would come kangaroo and rabbit and duck hunting with us.
In February last year he made the terrible decision to go for a swim in our dam. He didn’t come home. We searched high and low and only found him the next day. He looked so crook when we found him, and after a bath to get the mud off him we soon found his injuries. He had torn his side open internally after jumping into the dam and landing on a metal fence-post. Dam water, mud, algae and tadpoles came pouring out of the wound, and we quickly made the 50 kilometre drive to the vet hospital. He underwent two separate surgeries of 6 hours total and for a long time we were scared we’d lose him.
Turns out our boy’s a fighter though! He pulled through it well. He doesn’t hunt with us anymore. It hurts him to jump or run too much due to all the scar tissue on his insides. He’s gone from muscly to wobbly and cold days and nights hurt his bones. He shares his futon mattress with a kitten. He bails up the postie for pats.
But that doesn’t matter. We think he’s great.
World, meet Sophie. She’s a very strange mix of other tiny little dogs and the brainless scarecrow of Oz fame. Two years old and two kilos light. Not easy to photograph due to being blacker than a black hole. Dumber than a box of rocks. Runs like the wind in circles around the yard with a plant pot on her head, routinely. Can be coaxed to climb trees! Cannot be coaxed down, however. Loses fights with our other dog, the cat, the cockatoo, chickens and ducks daily. Likes to sniff lit candles.
We don’t intend on breeding her.