Animal Farm- Finca de los animales

Oasis Animals: Michelle's Eyes

Michelle, ma belle, sont des mots qui vont tres bien ensemble-
tres bien ensemble...
(The Beatles/Paul McCartney)

What is so compelling about our animal friends? I love Ma Belle, Michelle's, face. I love to press my forehead against hers and send her all my love. Contact with Michelle gives me such a feeling of profound well being. I know this is not unusual. Many people have a special connection with an animal friend.
I also feel great warmth (and sometimes anger) toward Miss Junie. She claims all flat surfaces with a sense of authority that defies all boundaries.
Lately, we have been having a territory battle over the large table that I use as a desk. She determinedly knocks over my pile of research books and brushes her paw across the carefully stacked and ordered mail while she makes herself quite comfortable as owner of the table. But what can I do? She's the queen of the house, and is likely to punish anyone who attempts to constrain her. (These punishments are unspeakably naughty! If you have a territorial cat, you completely understand. If not, it's best not to go into it.
Recently, she has allowed me to pick her up and hold her in a close hug. Her tolerance of my affection has made me so much more permissive about her eccentricities.
This lovely yogi cat (Lionheart, Temple Cat) is from the Seven Centers Yoga Arts in Sedona, Arizona (photo credit and to read the latest newsletter click here.)
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A love song to our animal friends...

Only You by Ringo Starr's quirky video expresses this sentiment! (Click to watch the video!)
Only you, can make this world seem bright.
Only you, can make the darkness bright.
Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do
and fill my heart with love for only you
Only you can make this change in me.
For it's true, you are my destiny.
When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do.
You're my dream come true.
My one my one and only you.

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Introducing Benicio del Toro (AKA Beni' and 'Nicio)!
He is the classic dog. Completely loyal. Completely protective. He is our oldest stray. One day, his mother, Ms. Nellie, arrived at our gate and just waited. She waited until the night. She waited until the next morning. She found her way into the fenced in back area and settled in. We fed her and then it was all over. Little Ms. Nellie was pregnant. The following day, she had our little bull- headed, Beni!

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A few words of love by the renowned (and occasionally sardonic) poet, Billy Collins:

Dharma
The way the dog trots out the front door
every morning
without a hat or an umbrella,
without any money
or the keys to her dog house
never fails to fill the saucer of my heart
with milky admiration.

Who provides a finer example
of a life without encumbrance—
Thoreau in his curtainless hut
with a single plate, a single spoon?
Ghandi with his staff and his holy diapers?

Off she goes into the material world
with nothing but her brown coat
and her modest blue collar,
following only her wet nose,
the twin portals of her steady breathing,
followed only by the plume of her tail.

If only she did not shove the cat aside
every morning
and eat all his food
what a model of self-containment she would be,
what a paragon of earthly detachment.
If only she were not so eager
for a rub behind the ears,
so acrobatic in her welcomes,
if only I were not her god.

"Dharma" by Billy Collins, from Sailing Alone Around the Room. Random House, 2002.

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And if that is not enough, here is a story that you can read to your little ones:

I’m a Big Boy
It was time for bed, but Joey was afraid of the dark.
“Go to bed Joey”, his mom said.
The room was dark. A big shadow moved on the wall.
“Mom” Joey yelled, “Mom!”
“What is it son?”
“There’s a big shadow on the wall!”
“A shadow,?” His mom asked “It’s from the big tree outside your window!”
Joey wanted to be brave but when his mom left, the shadow grew!
Joey could not fall asleep and only by holding his stuffed animal, Buster Brown, could he quiet his fear.
The next morning Joey went to the park with his mom. He had dark shadows underneath his eyes. He was cranky.
He met his friend Suzy.” Hey Joey, do you want to play ball?” Joey didn’t answer.
You look sad. She asked him, “What’s wrong, Joey?”
Joey said, “I’m sad”.
“Why are you sad?” asked Suzy.
“It’s a secret. I’ll tell you if you promise not to tell.”
Joey told Suzy everything, even the part about the shadow and how his stuffed animal, Buster Brown helped him fall asleep.
“I think I know how to help you, but it’s a surprise. I’ll come over this afternoon.”
Later, Suzy talked to her mother and then, they came over to Joey’s house with a gift.
When Joey and his mom opened the door, they saw that it was a soft fluffy puppy!
“Oh mom, can I keep him? And can he sleep in my room?” Joey asked.
She smiled, “Yes dear, but only if you are a big boy.”
Joy said to his new brown puppy, “I am a big boy, Buster Brown!”And everyone laughed.
Joey knew he was a big boy because he took care of a real puppy and big boys are not afraid of the dark!
Here's wishing you all the puppy love you want!

Pet Tales; the Untold Story

Delilah: A Known Killer

Managing a makeshift homeless shelter for pets is a challenge. We have nine dogs and one cat. I'm going to write all of their names; Miss Nellie, Benicio del Toro, Delilah, Jessie James, Michelle, Fern, Pepper, Charlotte, and the young Mr. D'Arcy. Miss Junie is the much put-upon cat. Three dogs have health problems of some sort, Miss Nellie, Pepper and Charlotte.

Michelle loves me the most of all. She follows me with her eyes, body and heart.

Miss Nellie had a penchant for escaping under the fence. Though it was repaired, she continued to push herself under. She damaged her back and developed a neck tremor before we discovered that she was still attempting to escape. We took care of her in the house in order to keep her still until she healed. Then she tried to escape again and 'broke her back'. Now she walks sideways, falls down, gets up like a drunken bee filled with honey, and walks a bit further, tail wagging. It's as if she doesn't realize she is injured.

Pepper has a skin condition and the personality of a beaten homeless cunning wild dog. Pepper Pot runs away when you reach for her but comes up close with sad yearning eyes when you are petting another. She will let you pet her when everyone else is getting love. She has a skin condition from allergies, I think. Her hair grows a bit back then falls out some more. So far her skin does not respond to treatment.

Charlotte has the most problems. She was born with beautiful rust and white fur and then got an attack of mange (the kind street dogs are born with) and I started her on treatment. I learned how to give injections, bathed her with a strong poison and then she started to recover. She got another secondary infection and I put her on antibiotics. She recovered a bit and then got a stomach illness and (some other discusting problems) which I treated. She has nearly died four times.

We call her "Poor Charlotte" from the movie version of "A Room with a View," EM Forester. Right now her hair is growing back and she looks at me shyly as if to acknowledge all the trouble we both have gone through. She tilts her head to the side and down and timidly hopes I will pet her (but not too much because it hurts). Taking care of 'street animals' is extremely difficult and often heart breaking. Delilah adapted to street life by learning to kill live animals. If a cat comes into the fenced in yard-she will try to kill it. She has taught Pepper and Jessie to join her. We're taking her in to be 'fixed' this week. I hope she calms down.

We have a large space for all of the dogs and they have also helped us. One time a person broke in the yard by taking apart the fence and road a scooter around back to the side entrance. It's quite isolated. I imagine that as he was driving around to the back of the house, the dogs woke up from their afternoon nap. They must have chased him; he ran into the white wall where tire marks still remain, and escaped out of the yard. When we came home, the top part of the fence was dangling but the bottom was secure. After a bit of investigation, we realized what had happened and understood that the fence was put together upside down so that it could be opened even when it was locked and chained. Probably, the house was 'cased' for a while but they didn't notice the dogs. What a surprise!

All of the dogs know how to" behave." I continue to teach them to sit, lift up on their back legs and they understand hand gestures. They need worked with or else they will revert to extremely 'wild' behavior and we will all get into trouble. If I hadn't been raised around animals (4H and all that) I would have had a real problem on my hands. They have gone through many naughty stages: from digging holes in the yard, eating socks and underwear from the clothes line to chasing the lawnmower.

Recently, I discovered that dogs can get addicted to gasoline. They chewed the tube that runs out of the gas tank on our second car and were sipping, licking and finally drinking gas. I was home alone one night, when I smelled a strong 'dangerous' smell. Was it lighter fluid, or poison? I emptied out all of the cupboards in the kitchen but couldn't find anything. The smell was strongest by the kitchen window and it was open. I went outside and thought maybe someone is painting and the smell is paint thinner. I found the dogs acting strange and a little crazed. When I looked for the rest of them- they were fighting to get under the car.

Then I realized that the smell was gasoline. I got the hose and sprayed forcefully under the car, finally they moved out and away from the car. I rinsed the driveway and contained the gas with a metal pan. It was held in place by being pressed up next to the gas tank. Later, the dogs kept returning to the scene. Elizabeth must have been successful in drinking the most gas before I discovered the problem. She died.

I've never heard of it before but now I know that dogs do get addicted to gasoline. When my husband W started up the car recently, some fluid came out and the dogs were after it again. Strange. He was able to repair the tube with a material made to harden against metal. I hope it holds! (He’s teaching a night class this month.)

This year we had three cats die from leukemia, combined with old age, and finished off by dog terrorization. But I'm mixing the tales (tails!) together-the California cats, Tierra and Playful were 14 and 15 years old. Both contracted leukemia from our Mione cat- a beautiful black intelligent cat who strolled around the house like a demanding toddler who constantly raised his voice for attention. "I want that! Let me sit there! Where's my snack!?" He died when he was 4 and we all suffered over that one. The disease process was-first occasional 'colds' fever and sometimes a hematoma (blood clot bubble) because the immune system starts to fail. Then they' recover' with antibiotics until the next bout of infection. They eventually lose a lot of weight and give up eating and drinking. I had to use a dropper for Playful but he just couldn't make it. He was the largest black and white cat with a generous trusting personality. He died first. Then Tierra got so confused. She started wandering toward the dogs. She was the oldest and 'wildest' cat; she could balance on a thin fence with all four paws. She was loyal to me but clearly toward the end, it was her time. For most of her life her fur was like the earth of New Mexico or Scottsdale, Arizona; so rich and multi-toned, accented by an earthy red shade. We found her on the driveway. Licked clean. The dogs had that guilty," I'm sorry don't be mad at me look." They didn't tear her up but I'm pretty sure that they killed her and also Mione. (Since then the
dogs have killed two cats who wandered into our yard.) It's shocking but you start to realize how a life of survival can make a dog give in to instinct, especially when there is no one around to give them food. That was a stressful time.

Junie is confident and empowered

Now Junie is our last remaining cat; she is 10 years old and we have to watch her carefully. Junie is a peach-toned, powder-soft bossy kitty. She also was exposed to the cat virus but I hope she can survive for many more years.

The young Mr. D'Arcy

under an arbol de Naranjas

These are the animals that we share our lives with; today, the young Mr. D'Arcy pushes his way into the house and makes a run for the cat food. When stopped, he goes to the garbage bag. “No D'Arcy,” we yell . He settles for the bowl of puppy food all the while keeping his attention on the dinner table hoping that perhaps some food scraps will fall to the floor and he will be in the right place at the right time. ♥

Lighten Up

Hi friends, I'm on my marquesina with a dear wiggling bundle of puppy love.

I'd like you all to meet Mr. D'Arcy, our new puppy, which makes nine canine critters and one proud and annoyed cat, Miss Junie who share our casita en la montan (~) as.

Miss Junie was found abandoned at a gas station in Bayamon when she was a few weeks old. She is most comfortable sitting right where someone needs to work. Here, she has taken over the writing table.

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Mr. D'Arcy puppy comes to the door and pushes it open. Once inside, he explores a bit and then starts complaining, "I want out. Who made me come in?" He continues 'crying' until someone opens the door to let him out. It's like this over and over again; in then out, out then in! He's just like a toddler who has discovered that when he drops his spoon off the food tray, someone always retrieves it. "What a fun game," he thinks, "I made you move." He's a delightful, active sweet smelling cuddle. Who could ever abandon Mr. D'Arcy?

As far as our ill conceived animal rescue project goes, I can only say in the words of California's Governor, Arnold when he was referring to the budget crisis and getting a little literary inspiration from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, "When you don't know where you're going, every road takes you there." Where am I being taken with these expensive canine critters? I don't know but maybe it helps to take care of a few who need a home.

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I also love these determined volunteer tomatoes, which are growing at my in-laws casa along the entrance walk between bright fuchsia pink impatiens. Borders with vegetables and annual flowers make me smile non-stop even after a long day.

How delightful these tomatoes are!

For a light Sunday lunch, I had a few deep red tomato slices drizzled with olive oil on a plate of fresh green peppers and crunchy cucumbers. When I wrote "lighten up" I meant enough depressing muse work for now (Saturday's post) but I am beginning to see that I am thinking of physical connotations too. Some bloggers are writing about winter weight gain (willow) and loss of a stone (Jude in Crete- I love that expression! I think it's 14 pounds). These posts influenced me so maybe I meant something else, too. Okay. I admit that there is no excuse to put on winter weight in the Caribbean but it still happens! Ask any bear, winter hibernation is an instinct, even if it isn't technically cold.

photos...by my husband and daughter...