#let me go to a good breeder!!! let me rescue a dog!!!

[sweater-equestrian]

im gonna rant about dogs again.

there are only five options to get a dog (at least, in my area).

1) be rich. do you have a house in the country with a large fully fenced in yard? are you able to travel anywhere or ship puppies to your doorstep? can you pay over $5000 for a puppy? boy are you in luck! you will easily find a good dog from a good breeder.

2) be well connected / already active in dog sports. you will know every good breeder in the area and actually be able to trust them. you will be able to get a great dog somewhat easily, even if the wait period is long.

3) be able to jump through rescues hoops / and also be a home owner. I don’t know about yall, but as someone who lives in an apartment, most rescues won’t adopt to me. those that do only tend to have breeds of dogs my apartment does not allow. oh you wanted a certain breed? you don’t / can’t have a husky, german shepherd, cattle dog, or pit bull? haha, you’re not getting a dog. (breed rescues do exist, however again, good luck finding a dog that meets both landlords rules AND a rescue that accepts you. while you’re at it, enjoy the non refundable $50+ fee just to apply online, as well as having to submit 2-5 references)

4) have no morals / puppy mill. you can always try your luck with a petland puppy or a puppy mill! enjoy your sick $2,000 puppy who will die two weeks later though.

5) craigslist puppy / byb. genuinely the easiest way to get a dog. wont cost much, wont be health tested, but at least its not a mill. and at least the person will actually give you a dog. not ideal, but genuinely the only option for.... too many people these days.

[projectbluearcadia]

"Oops."

This is just the kind of scenario that pops up in my head a lot. The walls in the House of Lamentation have ears. (Suggestive)

---

“MC, my room. Now,” Lucifer snapped when he saw the mess you and Mammon had made. As usual, Mammon was getting himself in trouble with a so-called good idea and you were roped into it. This time, it had been adopting a feral demon.

Mammon, of course, had wanted to become a selective breeder after he heard about what purebred dogs are worth. Though now he gave up on that because he was a little too attached to the pair of Harumons he’d just adopted. 

In any case, the living room was an absolute disaster area, and Lucifer was very clearly pissed. 

“I-It was me! Why're you taking MC??” Mammon cried after Lucifer, and he turned a glare back at his little brother. 

“I’ll deal with you later.” 

And he left Mammon in silence, dragging MC by the collar. 

Guilty and feeling scared for the resident human, he followed and debated outside Lucifer’s door whether or not he should knock it down and rescue her. 

“L-Listen, Lucifer we can talk about th—Ah!” Mammon flinched at the high-pitched cry against the door accompanying a loud thud. 

“MC…” Lucifer’s lowered voice rasped. “I think I already warned you there would be consequences for doing something stupid like this.” 

“You’re not my dad!”

“No,” Lucifer replied, and a whimper resounded through the wood, making Mammon shiver. Should he risk it and jump in? Should he? “But you serve me, now don’t you MC?” 

“Well…y-yes…” 

“And since you so willingly went along with whatever that idiot’s harebrained scheme was this time, you’re going to make me feel better.” 

“M-My knees are still sore… sir.” Mammon was half tempted to break in there, a little enraged at the thought of whatever physical punishment he’d given to her. Didn't he know that human was fragile!? And how could he do that when she was so cute anyway!?

“Then rest assured that I’ll make something else sore today.”

“W-Wait, Lu-Lucifer,” she gasped before she let out a surprised cry, and Mammon felt his ears turn hot as the sound of a kiss and something else reached his ears. 

“No waiting,” Lucifer growled, breathless as she panted. “I’ve been waiting.” 

“Ah! N-Not there!” she cried out, still heaving for breath, and Mammon flinched as he heard a thump against the door. 

“Why not? You’re shaking your hips like you’re enjoying it. Dirty girl.” 

Fuckin’ hell, Mammon thought. He’s doin' it that way…. Come to think of it, I think Levi was complaining about that earlier... I really should lea--

“Ahn?! Lucifer, why did you lick me!?” 

Mammon's ears turned pink at the sound that came out of her mouth, and he found himself desperately wishing that he was in Lucifer's place.

“Would you have preferred I childishly bit you like I wanted to?" Lucifer chuckled to himself. "But you want me to lick somewhere else, don’t you? If you want that, then you’re going to beg for it… and I’ll make you scream so loud that the entire house will know.”

“A-Aren’t you afraid they’ll get scared…?” 

“They know I’m here, and they know damn well I’d never let anything happen to you. They’ll know exactly why you’re screaming. I promise.” 

Mammon covered his reddened face with a groan. That asshole knew I was gonna follow to make sure she was okay, didn' he? Fuck. I'm not sleepin' tonight...

As a bonus, when the other brothers found out that Mammon was the reason that Lucifer was making MC scream louder than usual, they casually bullied him the next day. Lucifer was satisfied.

MC later made them make up and screwed them both ruthlessly.

[dreadfutures]

Loving LUMO: 2018 to Present :)

Just up in my feelings about my dog today. He's doing great! I love my dog! I just wanna talk about him. A lot. :) Like this is looooong.

I got my dog at the end of my senior year of undergrad, after I knew I got into a PhD program. I knew I couldn't make it through alone so I wanted a dog.

When I was young, I wanted a wolf! I wanted big fluffy scary looking dogs. Then I wanted a pretty, fluffy, exotic dog. But as I grew older and actually MET dogs (I didn't have a lot of them in my life before), I realized that those weren't the dog breeds for me. I wanted a dog that fit my lifestyle, but also a dog that NEEDED a home, and love. And I wanted to make an impact, rescuing a breed that was often found in overflowing shelters in the US.

Why coonhounds? **mentions of animal abuse, skip to the next section

In California, shelters are primarily full of huskies, chihuahuas, german shepherds, and pitbulls. Since I didn't know where I was going to live or what the ordinances would be, I reluctantly decided I couldn't get a pitty. Many of the chihuahuas, huskues, and GSDs in shelters have serious health problems, probably coming from puppy mills and unethical breeding situations. I knew that any dog could develop an expensive health condition (foreshadowing) but I wanted to find a breed where that was less likely to happen.

I had read that the less "pretty" working dogs are usually better bred. They're smart, learn quickly, and (many hunting dogs) are content with long lazy seasons on the couch. I also learned that hunting dogs are abused and abandoned after hunting season, especially when people get "hunting breeds" and assume all the complex training of hunting is instinctive--it's not, it must be trained. But these "Defective"/"Failed" hunting dogs are let go to freeze and starve, and shelters can't take all of them. Someone called them the chihuahua of the south lol.

“It is sad when they treat these dogs as ‘tools’ they can throw away, instead of treating them like family members.”

Whether dumped or lost, these hunting dogs end up in local shelters, if they’re lucky. Many times they end up shot, hit by cars, or die of starvation or disease.

Believe me I read up on all the downsides of adopting a rescue vs. getting a purebred puppy from a breeder. I read up on all the downsides of hunting breeds. And even so I knew this was probably going to be a good fit.

I also found Maddie on instagram, who is a gorgeous redtick coonhound and possibly the most well-trained dog in the world. I was convinced and turned to a national Coonhound Rescue that takes coonhounds from the south and moves them across the country to be loved in places where they're not so common.

Finding Lu

I originally did want a female redtick that looked like Maddie, so I put in an application for one. The rescue called me and said they had another dog in mind for me and my lifestyle, "But he has a lot of skin! That means he drools A LOT."

His name was Dallas.

Dallas is a handsome 2 year old American English Coonhound being fostered in [city]. He enjoys the simple life and loves nothing more than a warm, comfy place to sleep. He is housetrained, cratetrained and leashtrained; also good in the car. He would do well in a home with slightly older children and would make an excellent companion. This boy wants a loving and consistent family or person to show him how great his life can be. He weighs about 55 lbs and also does well with cats and other dogs.

This is the photo I was sent. :) I fell in love. This was going to be my dog! MY DOG. My first dog. Mine.

I was told he had been found on the streets, emaciated and sick, and that he had become an absolute counter surfer and couch potato in his foster home. And he could climb 10 ft fences if he saw a cat lol. They said he had "anxiety," but as I learned it was severe, severe PTSD from abuse.

I was originally going to name him Mo. For "Mopey." He had the saddest brown eyes and emo eyeliner, it seemed to fit. But "Mo" sounds a lot like "No!" and I soon realized they weren't kidding about hounds being independent and strong-willed. I still wanted "Mo" to be part of his name, but decided on LUMO as a chemistry reference since it was very relevant to my subfield I was going into. So he became "Lu."

The very first day I took him home, he had explosive diarrhea all over the car and there were no dog bathing places taking walk ins, so I had to haul his 35 pounds of skin and bones into the bath. Intense bonding experience to be sure.

He was so, so skinny. You can see in the photos how knobby his tail is, and how you can count his spine, and how all his ribs and his hips stick out. People would come up to me at restaurants and YELL at me "don't you FEED YOUR DOG?????? how can you be so cruel?" as if there wasn't a possibility that I was rescuing an emaciated and abused dog?

I thought he was skinny because of his past on the streets, and I think that was part of it for sure. But what I learned was that he wasn't just having digestive issues because he was "adjusting to his kibble" -- he's actually allergic to chicken, and he was on a chicken diet.

He was losing a lot of weight from the diarrhea, and he was SO itchy, and he had constant infections in those big, soft ears. We did a lot of elimination to figure out his allergies and he's actually allergic to a lot of things, but chicken is by far the worst.

As soon as I switched him to salmon, he started gaining weight really well, shooting up to a healthy 50 pounds. He also stopped getting constant ear infections!

The trauma

So the thing about Lu is that he isn't just "anxious." Anxious doesn't describe him:

He was terrified of blond men with sunglasses. Like just wanted to melt into the ground and phase through walls levels of terrified. My best friend and room mate was a blond man who wore sunglasses all the time. Fortunately he had grown up on an Estate with a whole bunch of working dogs and was so good at helping me get him over his fear. He was afraid of strangers in general, but none as much as blond and bald guys.

He was GREAT on leash from the start! But randomly, he would just...stop. Freeze, plant his feet, stare glassy-eyed into the distance at nothing at all. Nothing in particular triggered it. Not sounds, not anything I could identify in common. Just sometimes...he'd just freeze and shut down. I had to carry him sometimes as far as a football field to get home. Often it was right in the middle of the street. :( After ten or so minutes of staring, he would come-to, and he would sit down and look around all disoriented.

Also I had been warned about how some dogs "pull" on leash. It turns out that most people are talking about pulling...ahead. And training a dog who pulls ahead is WAY different than a dog who tries to pull backwards. Lu was so skinny that he could slip out of his harness, no matter what size of his harness. I quickly learned there was no tying him off and going into restaurants by myself, because he could EASILY chew through any leash in a few seconds, and he could slip right out of his harness and just DIP. But even on walks, during his PTSD flashback moments, he could pull back so hard his arms would come up by his head and he'd just noodle out of his harness.

He was terrified of stairs. Going up and down. My bedroom was on the second floor. The beach was down a steep flight of stairs.

He had no idea how to play with other dogs at all.

He was scared of grass. It was as if he had never stepped on grass before and thought it was lava. I'm suspicious that he might have been trapped in a concrete outdoor dog run or kennel for most of his young life.

He had persistent UTIs... and he counter surfed and ate a whole stick of butter, and went into acute pancreatic failure.

He had some sort of paw trauma. it was impossible to touch his paws, let alone clip his nails. No matter how skinny and weak he was, it took more than 5 people to hold him down long enough to clip his nails. He was terrible at the groomers. Dremels weren't any betters.

Pretty early on I had to settle for "progress" over "perfect."

We took baby steps together. From May to August, he became so much more outgoing. He fell in love with my two tall blond sunglasses guy friends. He started learning to get excited about toys. And we developed a routine so he wouldn't destroy my room when I left him alone.

I had to respect that he definitely, 100%, always knew what I wanted him to do when I gave him commands. And when he refused and said "No," there was no food, no toy, no incentive I could give him to get him to do it. At least not that time.

When I first moved to grad school that September, I had a lot of people in my cohort come over to my apartment. Lu hid under my bed the whole time and wouldn't take any treats to coax him out. We lay a whole pack of turkey in front of him and he wouldn't come out. :(

But within a few months, he had a growing circle of human friends that he was comfortable with. And honestly even by October of that year, if a new stranger came to the apartment, all they had to do was get up on the couch and offer him a Merrick toothbrush treat and he'd be in their lap.

Here he is with his companion cube in early 2019. He loved that suede couch lol.

Health issues :(

So because he ate a whole stick of butter and went into acute pancreatitis, we started monitoring his blood levels. They got better after treatment--but never back to "normal." They remained at the "hmm this looks like renal failure, Cirrhosis, or hepatopathy" levels, which was weird, because he was constantly getting happier and acting healthier every day!!

Eventually a vet suggested we see an internal medicine specialist. Turns out.... Lu's liver is like. Tiny. Like puppy sized. He has had this disease since he was a baby, which is why he's never known he was sick lol.

After about 9k of imaging and stains and biopsies, we learned:

He has copper hepatopathy, which today my new vet's jaw dropped as a like "WOW we HEARD about this in vet school but I've NEVER actually seen it! It's so rare!"

His liver is tiny, full of fibrosis, cirrhotic, tons of remodeling (in the bad way). His liver is ORANGE from how much copper is in it. The damage is completely irreversible. I have a copy of the biopsy & lab results and I can just imagine the scientist at the research institute they sent the samples off to, their voice as they wrote this report. It screams "HOW IS THIS DOG ALIVE?"

I just find it so funny, as another analytical scientist.

The other funny thing is that they prescribed him chelation therapy to help him get better (it didn't help and he doesn't get worse without it, so we have since stopped that; it was expensive). My PhD thesis is in metal chelation lolololol of Ni, Co, Cu. lololol

So that was an expensive process. He has to have a prescription low-copper diet, which has stopped most of his symptoms of this disease, and we have to do expensive blood tests to make sure he doesn't get worse.

And then he became a sock eater.

He passed the first few. Then he got sick. With the vet's help, he was able to pass it without surgery. And then the next time, it was life or death.

The vet I went to was so unethical and immoral but it was my only fucking option. I wouldn't have my dog here if my best friend at the time hadn't been wealthy enough to give me the 13k I needed on the spot, in cash, to save my dog's life with surgery.

In the hospital, the fucking awful vets:

claimed to use dissolving stitches. I don't think they did; I still feel them! 4 years later!!!

let him get a skin infection all over his body that made his paws swell up and bleed, and his paw pads fall off and bleed. It was terrifying. And cost me more money of course. It was so evil. He still has scarring all over his legs from it where fur hasn't grown back :(

He has bad teeth but according to the vet "not the worst! :)"

He expresses his glands in his sleep sometimes. UGHHHH they don't tell you that about dogs lol.

He still is terrible for claws. It's been worse and worse lately, to the point where I worry about how long his nails are and whether it will be bad for his joints. But it's the only thing he's really ever been aggressive for. :( I really worry about him. I have trained him to scratch a board of sandpaper to file them down, but they get sharp that way too lol.

Progress, not perfect. He lets me give him paw massages and check his nails and manhandle him, but just. Not clippers or dremel. :( Not there yet.

Anyway, he has been super healthy for many years now. He's got lumps and bumps and skin tags. The vet thinks he's about 9 years old, and definitely a senior. ;_; <3

Things I Love about LUMO

His ears are, I'm not kidding, the softest material in the world. And so warm. He loves it when I stick my finger in his ear and tickle his brain. He loves an armpit scratch. His tail used to be like, stuck, in such a sad position and I never thought he'd wag his tail and now it waves high all the time.

They told me he would probably never be a dog who plays. But when I got him, within a few weeks, I found the puppy inside of him. He runs like a silly rocking horse, completely uncoordinated and flopsy. He'll do fetch. He loves surgically disemboweling stuffed animals. He throws around his XTREME CHEW PLASTIC ANTLER and plays fetch with it with me.

He has several "spots" where I can get his leg thumping when I scratch him. He loves to be wrapped up in a burrito of blankets and sit in a sunbeam.

He leans on me and looks up at me with those big brown eyes and there's no fear or sadness in them anymore it's just sweetness and silliness.

He is so smart. He's attended a bunch of PhD level classes, and he's developed his own language. He's so smart. He knows how to tell me what he wants, he knows the rules and knows how to push them right up to the limit. He loves his sweaters. He will tell me what he wants by tapping on things with his paw. He knows that if I hold out my left hand it's to hold his paw and do a shake. If I hold out my right hand it means wait. He knows that the camera I have can see him and he'll knock it over so he can do mischief.

He loves his velvet chaise lounge. He loves his memory foam ultrasoft velvet bed. He loves his goose down comforter. He loves to sit on my pillow and fart. He basks in sunbeams and curls up in a tiny tiny little ball and he shrimps and sucks on his toes. He's basically a cat. He doesn't really want to go on walks, he pulls me back inside as soon as he's done his business. Except for when we have company--he loves walking with a pack of people.

When he talks to me, like just having a conversation, he sounds like a seal. Like a tortured seal. Or like a crying baby. He's never really figured out how to be a dog or sound like a real dog but we understand each other that's what matters.

He absolutely takes advantage of this to complain when I am not giving him what he wants. He'll roll over on the ground like a drama queen and wail and cry like I'm abusing him and it's because I'm across the room holding a pork chop that's just for me.

Today in the car he was WAILING like a seal, which usually means "LET ME OUT I NEED TO POOP" but after 3 or 4 tries to walk him, he made it clear that what he ACTUALLY meant was "PEDAL TO THE METAL GIRLS LET'S GO WHY AREN'T WE MOVING WHY IS THERE NO WIND ON MY FACE OR FLAPPING IN MY EARS MOOOOOOOOOVE."

For a while he was 69 pounds (NICE) but he's back to 64 lol. He stays between 63-70 pretty much depending on how active he is.

Anyway I have been reminiscing a lot because I figured it was time to add him to the "happy endings" page on the rescue website and I was going down memory lane.

Looking at the photo I took on the day I brought him home, and a photo I took last month, you can see his white face is spreading.

The defined white bit on his nose that whispers between his eyes has now spread to both his eyebrows, and his cheeks are getting quite white. But his eyes are bright and his ears are perked up and he is safe and warm and loved and stinky and soft. He gets fresh treats all the time (he loooooves celery, and pears, and sometimes carrots and sweet potatoes. and tortilla chips. and salmon oil.). He loves his prescription kibble and our routine. He has lovely friends and lovely car rides and he is just the best dog I could have asked for in my life when I got him and every day.

I've had to be so patient and calm and kind even when I was scared and angry, with his stress and his ptsd and his destructiveness and messiness. All he deserves and needs is love and he knows what's wrong and what isn't, sometimes he just can't help himself, and we move on together. He made sure I had a reason to come home and not sleep in lab during my PhD. He made sure I had a reason to get out of bed during my PhD.

And now we're just living our best lives together. :)

[drdemonprince]

how is it having a chinchilla? How does it compare to a dog, rabbit, lizard, or other pets? I'd like a pet when I'm more financially stable, but idk if I'll ever be mentally stable? I worry about meeting its needs, but something like a fish is too low interaction for me.

Are chinchillas considered an "exotic" animal? I know some states require licenses to have them as pets, like hedgehogs

Chinchillas are in the sweet spot of low maintenance but high engagement, in my opinion. When you're busy, you can keep em in a cage with water, hay, pellets, a few chew toys, and a wheel to run on pretty much indefinitely ; when you want to play with them you can let them roam around a chin-proofed room and enjoy watching them jump, roll, and dart around the room bouncing off the walls.

Chins are curious and fearless, and they are *fast* and can jump as high as four feet off the ground, and quite high energy, so they can be a lot of fun to have around. They however are NOT LAP PETS and will chew up every single wood baseboard / electric cable / book / pair of shoes they can find, so you have to keep an eye on them or else cover everything with cardboard. Don't let the cute tiktoks fool you, most dont want to sit still on a countertop holding things for videos. Chins are like cats: they do want they want to do, and they choose when they want to make contact with you and where they want to go.

Chins are also hypoallergenic! and relatively cheap to keep, aside from the initial start up costs of buying a good Critter Nation cage and a Happy Chilla metal wheel and the pet itself. They are very long lived for a rodent, some making it into their 20s, so be prepared for a long term commitment. (my last chin made it to 13, but we didnt feed her well when I was a child. Dump Truck, who we give hay and Oxbow pellets only, is 7 but I expect him to be around a long time. He's still very youthful).

There are no "exotics" restrictions on owning chinchillas, because they have been domesticated since the 1800s. All chinchillas come from breeders, none are captured from the wild, and there are many reputable breeders in the US, the UK, Canada, Australia, Germany, and Japan, as well as rescues. Here in Chicago we have Northwest Indiana Chinchilla Rescue just a few miles out.

One final note: chinchillas need a cool environment. If the room they are in gets about 85 degrees, they will die. They evolved in the Peruvian mountains and are built for a cold, dry environment. If you can't afford to keep them in air conditioning all summer, do not get one. In the winter, they will post up for hours beside an open window. Ice chips and a cool marble slab in their cage can help them regulate temp too.

To learn more, I recommend Let's Love Chinchillas. It's a website, a subreddit, and theyre on facebook/instagram etc.

[charliecharliecharlieee]

Today was hard. Today I had volunteered to go help the rescue I foster for pick up schnauzers from a backyard breeder.

When we arrived to the property we were immediately greeted by the sight of many outdoor dog pens that were just metal gates arranged in squares all lined up. In total, I would guess 20 seperate pens. Some with pieces of metal thrown over part of the top to create the illusion of shade. They had large buckets of water that were completely green with the vegetation growing in them. Most of the dogs hid when we approached the kennels. The owner walked us around the kennels, telling us which ones we could take. Most of them ran as we tried to catch them, but we eventually were able to get them, scooping them up as they immediately pooped and peed on us out of fear. Luckily none of them tried to bite despite how terrified they were.

Eventually were had loaded 11 schnauzers into our vehicles and the owner said he thought that was all. He wasn't even sure because he didn't seem to know how many he had. I pointed out one in a fence and asked about it, and he hadn't noticed it and told us we could take it. I opened the latch and pulled hard on the gate and when it didn't budge, I pushed. It gave just enough for me to slip in between the gate and the side. The grass was so overgrown on the door that it was preventing it from opening. Imagine how long you have to not open a gate for it to be overgrown with grass so much that a person using all their strength can't open it. I squeezed in and approached the dog. It cowered, but didn't run. I slowly reached down and picked him up. I lifted him over the gate while I squeezed back through the opening. We thanked the man, got him to sign the papers signing them over to us, and got in our cars. We drove away, leaving several Westies there, as another rescue is picking them up later this week. I hated leaving any of them. Luckily, this breeder is surrendering all of his dogs because he is getting out of the "business."

Once we got a bit down the road we pulled over to inspect the dogs, as we didn't want to do that in front of the breeder. The younger ones were so terrified they pressed themselves against the backs of the crates, shaking out of fear that we would touch them. The older ones were slightly friendlier, but upon inspection, many had unknown masses on their bodies, teeth so rotten they were literally falling out and rotting their jaws, and fleas jumping everywhere.

After some thorough discussion, we decided to give them all to a Schnauzer specific rescue (we were originally going to split them up), as we decided they were better equipped to handle them at this time and that way we could dedicate our resources to other dogs that desperately need our help. There's always another one needing rescue, and we know these are in good hands now.

It was a rough day- seeing how these dogs have lived their entire lives, are now terrified of humans because of how little interaction they get, falling in love so quickly with these sweet faces, and then passing them on to someone else instead of bringing them home to love on.

I held it together all the way home. I got home and was unloading the crates from the car when my boyfriend came outside and asked, "where are they?" Since our other fosters were adopted or moved to other homes yesterday in preparation for these, we're down to one foster (for a different rescue). That's rare in this house where I'm known to bring home 4-5, and we had prepared for 3 today. He asked, and I cried. I cried about my sweet boy who cowered at my touch but let me carry him safely back to my car. I cried about the baby who dug a tunnel to hide in so that the scary humans wouldn't touch him. I cried about the rotten teeth and medical needs and the pain these sweet babies must be in. The fear they experienced on a daily basis all in the name of making money off of them. But then I cried happy tears as I told him that while I didn't have them, they were safe, and getting to spend probably their first night ever inside a home.

I came inside and showered off the day, and curled up to love on my babies. I'm going to hold them a little closer and give them a little more love until the next one comes along. It sure it won't be long, as I can't seem to stay away. I'm very happy my boys are nice enough to share their mom with all the babies I bring home that need love while we find their forever homes.

So today was a rough day, but I'd do it all over again if it meant I got to save more lives, and know the best is yet to come for these wonderful creatures.

Please, consider rescuing your next dog. Unfortunately there are not enough laws in place to punish places like this yet, but the more we rescue instead of buy, the more places will decide to "quit" the "business" of breeding to death living things with no regard to their lives.

If you can't rescue, please share the posts, advocate for better laws, donate to rescues, and help to make this world a better place for the ones we share it with. We have got to do better.

[theflybitteneye]

Fun fact about Furby, but because I adopt seniors with disabilities only I usually feel too bad to change their name.

The shelter I got both my boys from does already as a little extra just distance from their old lives. (My other rescue Duckie was dropped off at a vet to be euthanized. He was severely neglected. Close to death from untreated diabetes and his old owners not giving a single shit about him his whole life. There's even some question as to exactly how old he is because his teeth are so bad the vet deduced he was either much older than they said or he had profoundly poor nutrition for a long time. Left to suffer. They didn't want to pay to have him recover. Vets will sometimes get owners like them to sign papers relinquishing ownership, promise to put the pet down, then call around to see if any shelters have the room to get an animal like him into recovery. Whoever used to have him, as far as they know, he's been dead for years. Changing his name gives the vet a bit of cover in the event his old owners see a picture of him on social media and recognize him. Like, Duckie has some pretty distinct markings on his face, but like, as far as they'd know it's just as likely a eerily similar cat to the one they abandoned. What they did is totally legal, but, for some reason people get weirdly pissed to find out the animal they left to die alone is doing well and has a better life.) But by the time I get them, they've usually been in the shelter for a while. Special needs senior animals are hard to adopt out, obviously. It usually feels a bit mean, you know? Third name change after all that.

However, I made an exeption for Furby. Unfortunately since the shelter gets so many cats and they all have to be named different shit, some of them end up with real bad ones. Furby's shelter name was apparently a model of German car, hard to pronounce, and un-fucking-spellable for my dyslexic ass. I literally don't even remember what it was, and can't spell it accurately enough for Google to guess. Because of that he had a million nicknames and basically responded to anything anyway.

When I saw Furby, I fucking fell in love instantly. He doesn't seem to be all Persian, but he's clearly at least a good chunk Persian. I love Persians. I've loved them every since my little 12 year old Warrior Cat kid ass was instantly taken by best girl hag queen Yellowfang. This is no judgement to people who get pets from breeders, but, personally, I'm uncomfortable with supporting the pet breeding industry even as it pertains to "ethical" breeds, let alone unethical ones. And for those of you unaware, as gorgeous little gremlins as Persians are . . . At best, they're on par with pugs. It depends on what kind and how severe their face squish. And even before all that, just personally, in today's current pet trade market it's shelter or bust (in terms of cats and dogs, not other kinds. But even for rabbits and stuff I feel it's good practice to always check shelters first.) Persians are expensive, fancy cats, unlikely to end up in a shelter at all, and if they do, they'll be adopted out in a blink of an eye. Which is good, don't get me wrong, but, I try to always go for the ones who nobody but me would want. That's why Furby just seemed fated to be mine. Old? Needs special medical care? Tragic backstory? Completely unwanted and stuck in foster care for ages? That's MY KIND OF PET, BOyo. That he has this stupid short muzzle that makes him look like he's sucking on a lemon perpetually since he has no teeth and this big fat forehead that makes him look like a toddler about to fly into a temper tantrim was a special treat. He sits on the back of the couch with his front paws crossed and looks like the snobbiest little shiteating twink and I fucking love him with every cell in my body.

He looks exactly like the 1998 Furby I had as a kid. The white one with black spots. I collect furby stuff, as I am a toy collector and modder obviously, so the name seemed absolutely perfect. . . Too perfect. Profoundly far too perfect. In what I can only describe as a cosmic troll-job, he happens to also have something else very much in common with the 1998 Furby I had as a kid.

He. Never. Fucking. Shuts. Up.

In his distinct high pitched wail (if you've heard a Persian meow before, you'll know what I mean) he cries incessantly. Dare I not pay attention to him when he demands it, nothing but screaming. Unfortunately like an idiot, I've reinforced the behavior by accident. The more annoying he is the faster I'll drop everything to get him to stop with food or pets, so now he just goes full Final Girl to get what he wants as fast as possible. The only way he isn't like his name sake is that he has no batteries to remove in a desperate bid for peace. Like all cats, he's an agent of chaos unrivaled by any other animal on the planet. The degrees him and his brother can cause mischief in my daily life is unparalleled.

That sounds all extremely negative, but like, believe it or not this is exactly what I love about cats. I went through a very long battle with what felt like and endless cascade of health problems I'm only now starting to actually recover from over the past three years, and I don't think I would have survived it without my boys. No matter how sick or depressed or lost in a endless mental fog I got, these little pissbabies managed to get me to interact with them or there would be hell to pay. They managed to be as charming as ever charm me even while they caused all the fucking mayham they could.

Even when I felt like staying in bed until I rotted and died, Furby screamed until I got up. Duckie sent stuff crashing to the ground until I snapped out of my haze.

Non-cat people think cat lovers are insane, but like, it's never a fucking dull moment with them around. The will of cats is infamous, and in a lot of ways I think the real reason I managed to survive all I did was because it was inconvenient for my two little goblin kids to have to find another forever home if I kicked it, so they made sure that didn't happen.

[golden-girl-daisy]

I've always heard that shibas can be very stubborn. Do you find that Leia is more stubborn than the other girls? Also, what made you decide to get a shiba?

She’s so stubborn. If she doesn’t want to do something she 100% will not do it and will either stay perfectly still or shiba scream. When I took her to the vet to check if she had pink eye the vet said she has the strongest eyelid muscles because she was closing them so hard to avoid getting fluorescein eye drops she didn’t want.

And I had been looking at the shelter that Honey and Maggie were from and the golden specific rescue Daisy and Bailey were from for a few months because I wanted an older dog for Honey’s sister but hadn’t found one that was right. When Bailey started getting bad my mom had asked me to show her how to look for responsible breeders because she always wanted a corgi. While I was showing her how to use Good Dog and how to tell if a breeder is good it showed me shibas as a breed I might like and I was like “oh I love those let’s see how cute they are.” The closest breeder to me had a few from a January litter still and one, Cream Girl 1, had Daisy’s exact angry baby face in all her pictures. So of course I immediately fell in love with her.

I still wasn’t going to get her because I didn’t really want to deal with a puppy again but every time I’d go on petfinder or the rescue group’s websites I would end up looking back at her sweet little face again. Maybe a month or so later she went on sale because she was almost 5 months old already and I started really considering her, especially because she was slightly older than the average puppy so slightly less potty training on me. I messaged the breeder just to ask questions in case the breeder sucked or Leia had a bad temperament and decided to get her! She went through a few names before Leia stuck. Now she’s almost 11 months old and my little rude dude and I love her so much. But look at that angry baby face compared with Daisy’s. How could you not love her?

[puppyexpressions]

5 Toy Breeds That Worry Vets the Most

Guest Post by Dr. Marty Becker

Let me say this up front: I love all dogs. Every single one I see in my practice brings a smile of joy to my face. But I often have concerns about certain small dog breeds, either because they may be prone to specific health problems or because they have reached such heights of popularity that mass production by puppy mills or careless breeders has put them at risk of overpopulating shelters instead of homes.

Because of this, there are some dogs I would like to see less of in my practice. Not because I think they’re bad — there’s no such thing as a “bad” dog in my book. Instead, I would like to see fewer of these types of dogs, and I would like them all to have better health and ample opportunities for loving, lifelong homes.

Lovable but Trouble

Teacup Cavalier King Charles Spaniel: You might be surprised to hear me say this — Cavaliers are wonderful little dogs with sweet temperaments. They easily capture the hearts of their owners, but it’s their own hearts that I worry about. Because of their limited gene pool, Cavaliers are prone to early onset of a common heart problem in dogs: mitral valve disease. Because of this, their life spans can be as short as six to 10 years. These dogs should live up to 14 years or more. Some of them do, but not enough. Veterinary researchers and breeders are seeking an answer to this health concern, but until they find one, I’d like to see this breed’s skyrocketing popularity come back down to Earth.

Teacup Chihuahua: The great thing about Chihuahuas is their long life spans. It’s not unusual for these tiny dogs with the ginormous personalities to live 15-plus years with regular wellness care. Some of them even live into their 20s. For a dedicated owner, that’s a huge bonus. But it worries me that so many of these entertaining but bossy little dogs end up in shelters. There are so many in states such as California and Arizona that they are often airlifted or trucked to other states, where they are less common and in higher demand. Until that problem is solved, I’d like to see fewer of them walk through the doors of my practice.

Teacup Yorkshire Terrier: The terrors, er, Terriers of the Toy Group, Yorkies are mischief makers who are full of themselves — and that’s saying a lot, given their minuscule size. I love their independent nature and their sense that they are as big as Great Danes, but they can have health and behavioral problems that get them into trouble. Among their health concerns are portosystemic shunts, luxating patellas and collapsing tracheae. They’re also easily injured because of their tiny size. Behavior wise, it’s all too easy to ignore house-training or training in general. That can turn what should be a smart, highly trainable, well-behaved dog into a little tyrant. These are all among the reasons that it’s not unusual to find Yorkies and Yorkie mixes available in shelters or through rescue groups. As a veterinarian and dog lover, I’d love to see fewer Yorkies, all with better health and good homes with people who will give them the combination of love and training they need to thrive.

Teacup Puggle: This popular hybrid, or designer, dog (a combination of a Pug and Beagle) has a lot going for him. For starters, he’s cute and sweet. But as a blend of two very different breeds, he can have some issues that may become prominent and problematic after the cute factor wears off. Take his shedding — please! Both Pugs and Beagles shed heavily. When you combine the two breeds into a single dog, you’re going to wind up with a shedder — and often, people don’t realize this before they get one. Another factor is size. It’s not unusual for Puggles to grow bigger than buyers expect. And they can have the breathing problems associated with Pugs, as well as the high energy level associated with Beagles. Those are all problems that can land them in shelters or with rescue groups, seeking a family who recognizes and understands their quirks.

Teacup anything: It’s easy to understand the appeal of teeny-tiny dogs. We humans are attracted to extremes, and the idea of a dog who fits into the palm of a hand is almost irresistible. But it must be resisted. Micro dogs weighing three pounds or less at adulthood are more prone to serious health problems and generally live shorter lives. It’s hard on them, and it’s hard on their families to lose them at an early age. There are plenty of small dogs who are healthy; let’s not encourage the breeding of tiny, unhealthy dogs simply so we can have bragging rights about whose dog is the smallest.

[doberbutts]

Something I talk about a lot when discussing how to tell the difference between “person who breeds dogs” and “person who is a good breeder” is the idea of breeder support, and I usually talk about it when it comes to when things go wrong with your dog or your life. Creed’s breeder offered to take him in when I was completely unable to move unassisted after my car accident. Tater’s breeder pays her medical bills. And so on and so forth.

But what about when things go right?

I’ve been in pretty constant contact with Sushi’s breeder. Sushi has been the easiest dog I’ve ever owned or trained and certainly the easiest to take on the service dog journey. Sushi’s breeder co-owns her with me but makes very little demands of me knowing that this dog is actively being trained and worked with.

I asked her if I could come to her house for a little bit of training advice and not only did she say yes immediately but also she spent the entire afternoon going over three different disciplines with me for free.

Fast forward about a year as we’ve been working on things and I mention two different things to her: I’m interested in doing a little more herding now that she’s gained some maturity, and we’ve started rally classes. She again immediately invites me to come down. I’m bringing a friend to test her dog on sheep too. My friend has to pay for the lesson. I don’t. Why? “You spent $3000 on a dog from me, I’m not charging you to let her chase the sheep”. 

Additionally, she also followed up by asking me to go to two different rally trials she’s attending with her dogs coming up in May, warning me if I want to enter Sushi that I’ll need to do so quickly because they fill up in a flash. I don’t know that we’re ready, but it’ll be good to get the squishiest dog some dog show experience either way and of course she’ll enjoy seeing grandma and her dog family. Her breeder said she’d stay and watch us to give us some pointers since this’ll be Sushi’s first ring experience.

All of that is breeder support! I have no patience or desire to deal with a dog breeder that sells a dog and then basically it becomes the new owner’s problem from then on. A good breeder should be celebrating their owners’ successes, guiding them through their frustrations, and extending a hand in times of trouble. We see that breeders who do this rarely if ever have dogs add to the shelter/rescue population, because even if an owner decides they don’t want that dog anymore the breeder will always take the dog back. And owners that are succeeding deserve to be celebrated and congratulated by the person who made that dog.

[theramseyloft]

What to expect when you are expecting a new pigeon:

You’ve decided you want a pet pigeon.

You’ve selected the breed you want, chosen between a cock and hen, got your housing set up, purchased your feed, and found a vet.

You’ve found the rescue or breeder you want a bird from, picked the specific one you want, and your new pigeon is on their way!

If you are picking up your bird:

Pigeons travel best when covered. Being able to see the scenery pass can be overwhelming and disorienting to a bird unaccustomed to car rides (as nearly all are.)

An especially stressed individual may vomit.

If your bird is being shipped:

Your bird has (if packed and prepped correctly) been asleep for the last 2-4 days. The jetlag is real!

Your bird will be disoriented and thirsty, which will show in their poop.

Expect it to be very wet for a least the first three days, but it should firm back up over the first 5-7 days as the bird’s hydration returns to normal.

However they get there, it’s important that the bird go straight into their enclosure and given the opportunity to get their bearings for the first few days.

Pigeons can get overwhelmed in new environments and may not eat or drink until they have checked out every surface they can reach.

If the bird has just spent a few days in a dark box, being active for an extended period before they have had the opportunity to eat or drink can cause them to crash.

So it’s important not to let your new bird out to explore at least until you have witnessed them eat food and drink water.

If you will need your bird to stay in an enclosure at night, start acclimating them to Lights Out by allowing out time initially in the evening.

The length of time a pigeon is out can safely extend to pretty much any amount as they learn the house rules, but starting in the evening makes teaching/learning the Lights Out routine easier on all parties involved.

At any point after dark, you can address your pigeon and say “Lights out!” or “Bed time!” to signify that they will go back into their sleeping enclosure shortly.

Give the bird about 10 seconds to register (and yourself to make sure you know exactly where they are perched), and then repeat “Lights out.” or “Bed time.” as you flip the light switch.

It’s WAY less stressful for a bird to be gently lifted up in the dark and returned to their sleep enclosure than it would be to chase them around to try and herd them into it.

After a few repetitions, your bird should make the association between the verbal forewarning “Lights out!” or “Bed Time!” with the lights actually going out.

Birds that do not like being picked up in the dark will go back to their sleep cage on their own in that 10 seconds you give them before turning out the lights.

Birds that like to be carried will just assume the position and wait to be picked up. XD

As often as I refer to pigeons as the avian equivalent of stray dogs, there are some key social differences you need to keep in mind when bonding to your bird.

Dogs are intelligent, cooperative social predators.

The puppy template for humans is generally set to “friend, until proven otherwise.”

Meaning that a puppy who is well socialized will see every new person as a potential new friend, and is likely to be just as friendly and confident in their new home as they were at their breeder’s.

Pigeons are intelligent, cooperative social prey birds.

Their template for any large creature is “Predator, until proven safe.”

Meaning that a well socialized pigeon who is comfortably trusting of their breeder has come to see that specific human as a non-predator.

If you have not had opportunities to meet your pigeon before bringing them home, they will not have had any opportunity to get to know you well enough to come to the conclusion that you, specifically, are also safe.

So you will be building your relationship with your pigeon from the ground up, no matter how they acted for their breeder.

In those first days while your bird is getting their bearings, it’s important to talk them through everything you do.

This gets them used to your voice and starts priming them to make word associations.

Pigeons are defensive of what they consider to be nest spaces, but social away from them.

For a bird who free flies the house, nest space is the actual nest and about the bird’s body length away from it.

But for a bird with a sleeping enclosure, the entire enclosure is considered to be nest space.

Because only a predator or attacking rival will enter nest space uninvited, pigeons are severely intimidated by hands entering their enclosure.

Those word associations I mentioned earlier will help desensitize your bird to changing their food and water every day.

Make a point to tell the bird “Let me get your food/water dish!” and reach in only far enough to retrieve that specific thing, as quickly and unobtrusively as possible.

As you give them back, talk the bird through it with something along the lines of “Here’s fresh water.” or “Food time!”

Until you have bonded to your pigeon, do not reach for them in their enclosure to get them out for social time.

Open their enclosure to invite them out.

This feels, to the pigeon, like you respect the space that they feel an instinctive need to defend.

Talk to the bird while you chill in your shared space doing something innocuous like reading or surfing the internet on your phone.

This is a good time to start treat priming.

Most pigeons love safflower seeds, but not every bird does.

Pay attention to what your bird picks out of their seed blend first so you know what treats to keep on hand.

Start by greeting your bird by name and asking “Want a Treat?”

Once you have their attention, toss a few of their favorite seeds just in front of their feet.

Praise them when they peck at and eat them with a light, pleased tone.

Then just toss them a little less far away.

The first goal is for your bird to sit comfortably near you.

If you get that far in one day, great! But don’t push any faster than that.

From there, the next goal is getting them into your lap or onto your shoulder.

The next step is to get them to take treats from your open palm.

The end goal is getting them to take a single treat from between your thumb and forefinger, because a closed fist with the thumb and forefinger extended together resembles a bird’s head instead of the giant snake head a closed hand resembles or the giant, five-clawed talon an open one resembles to a bird.

This very firmly switches a pigeon’s perception of you from predator to flock mate.

In every flock of pigeons, there is at least one bird who will feed any peep who begs or any adult who asks.

I refer to these as Flock Aunties/Unkles, and this is the mantle you take on by training your birds to take treats from your fingertips this way.

By inviting them out and offering treats this way, rather than forcing them out of their comfort zone, you help your bird to expand it to include you and the socializing space they share with you.

Every pigeon is an individual, meaning they all have different temperaments and tolerances. 

This is why our available birds are categorized by temperament.

It is important to me to match a client with the bird that they are most likely to develop the closest, most meaningful bond with.

It is possible to bond with even a very skittish pigeon, but it can take much longer than it would for a human-social bird bred for temperament.

Remember that stability is important to pigeons, and moving to a new home with new human flockmates is a LOT of change all at once.

So be patient with your new friend.

Communicate with them.

Invite them to expand their comfort zone rather than forcing them out of it.

And you will build a strong bond with your new flockmate. <3

[thebibliosphere]

So because this is the Internet and we cannot have nice things: no, we did not get our dog Holly on a spontaneous whim.

We’ve actually been looking for and preparing for a dog for over 10 months. Specifically a Shih Tzu because we have experience with the breed and we love them. We actually looked into being a foster home for rescued Shih Tzus, and we may still do that once Holly is better settled and acclimated to her life outside of a 4ft cage.

We’ve been in contact with Holly’s rescue for 8 months. They put us through a rigorous vetting (heh) process that included character references, a home inspection, income assessment etc that eventually placed us on a waiting list for a dog in need that would be a good fit for us, and who we would be a good fit for. If we’d wanted a dog on a whim we could have gone to the pound 10 months ago. But we didn’t. We didn’t even go to a breeder. Instead we submitted ourselves to a vigorous process that required patience and a whole lot of preparation and a willingness to work with severely abused animals.

And Holly is a difficult case. She was abused and neglected by her caretakers for years, starved and deprived of any kindness and goodness knows what else. And speaking personally, I have some midding experience with what some of that is like. It’s no mistake that we adopted a dog with food allergies, teeth issues and a history of neglect. It was in fact a driving factor of me waking my husband up at midnight the night her adoption page went live, begging if we could apply for her.

When I read Holly’s story online I couldn’t not love her. But if the rescue had turned round and told us we weren’t a good match for her needs? I would have accepted that. As I have done with many dogs over the last eight months. But the opposite happened. The rescue, in fact, thought we’d be perfect for her, and the day they brought her to our house to visit confirmed it. She didn’t skitter and cower in corners like she had been doing her whole time in foster care. She didn’t even run from ETD despite being extremely terrified of men. She walked on the leash for us. She let us pet her and after a short half hour, felt safe enough to be held. Several hours later she fell asleep on top of me.

Today her tail wagged for the first time.

We are her people and she knows it.

So please don’t come into my inbox making assumptions and accusing me of doing things for clout. Nothing I do is driven by a desire for strangers on the internet to like me. If you think that then you haven’t followed me long enough to know me. Or that I would never use a living creature for fake internet points. Honestly, this kind of shit might be the most important thing for some of you, but I couldn’t give a fiddlers fuck. I just happen to be a person on the Internet people think is occasionally funny. That’s it.

Holly is our fur baby, and I have waited a very, very long time to love her. And she knows it.

[sergle]

how do you go about finding a breeder? i worked in a vet's office and this poor couple had 7 goldens die before the age of 10 due to having cancer but they would always go back to the same breeder bc they had cream goldens. and idk it just seems like breeders can be indifferent to what traits are being passed down because it's all about selling the puppies. and the quality of life of the mother dogs seems questionable in a lot of cases. what research can be done to avoid things like that??

SO it depends on how hard the breed is to find, and the area you live in, but goldens are a super common breed so it wasn't too tough. some breeders work in tandem with rescues and shelters, and so any breeder found through that source is usually good. BUT. the main thing that I did is that I just looked for a long, long, long time. I was scanning for puppies for MONTHS. In the end, I looked for one that had lots of public photos of their dogs, and I actually kinda focused on the backgrounds of the pictures. I didn't go for any where I could see that the photos were taken inside of kennels/barns/fenced in areas with no grass, where it's clear the dogs are not living inside. I ended up finding some people whose goldens are AKC registered, they had so many photos of their family dogs laying in couches and in beds and playing in a grassy yard (and getting starbucks but that's neither here nor there), they wanted a lot of info from ME, and there was hella paperwork concerning the health of the puppies, and my obligation to keep them healthy. They also needed to call me on the phone a couple times, and at the end I realized it was because they get a better feel of somebody's vibe by literally speaking with them, when it's so hard to tell over text if they're a creep. There were also lots of photos from previous litters, sent in by the puppies' new families, that they reposted to their page, so I was able to feel pretty confident that I wasn't dealing with some puppy mill situation. Good breeders also usually have this thing in the paperwork, where, if there is ANY problem with the dog at all, they will take the puppy back. So there’s no, “gotcha, the puppy’s sick! ZING! no takebacks!” The caveat here is that I'm not a dog expert, this is my first time even looking into the world of breeders, and I have never tried to get a specific breed before, lol. But the most obvious thing is, if a breeder is reputable, then they will be majorly braggy about it. They'll take any opportunity to show you the photos of the puppies, the parents, their living conditions- they'll let you know that all their parents and puppies have been tested for X Y and Z potential breed health issues, there will be paperwork, they've probably chipped the puppy for you- it's a lot. If someone's just trying to turn a quick dollar, they're like HERE buy the puppy, yeah I'm not gonna vet you at all. give me a thousand dollars. yanno. Sorry for the long post lol but it took me a lot of time and work to be even remotely comfortable interacting with a breeder, and I know that it's sometimes a difficult task, and always a touchy subject!

[smalldogvibechecks]

Frequently Asked Questions/Guidelines

(Making this post now to link it in the pinned post - it will be updated periodically!)

“What counts as a small dog?” I mean, use your best judgement? I like big dogs too, but I’m not going to rate a video of a rottweiler because I don’t have as much experience with big dogs (and that’s not what this blog is for, anyway!). A quick google search says that dogs under 30 pounds are considered small, so let’s go with that as a general guideline!

“My dog is sick/hurt/acting weird, what should I do?” Call your vet! I am not a professional, I am some guy on tumblr dot com who likes talking about dogs for fun, please do not ask me medical questions about your dog. I can’t answer them, and even if I was a vet, I couldn’t help a dog over the internet. If you think your dog is sick or injured, please take them to a vet.

Ditto for behavior issues - call your vet or a professional trainer. I can’t help you or your dog over the internet!

“I hate [insert small dog breed here] because they’re yappy and evil and” don’t care didn’t ask plus why are you on a blog specifically about little dogs to say you hate little dogs. Do you also enter the grocery store like “if I see any vegetables in here it’s on sight 🤬”. Log off.

“Did you get my ask/see the post I tagged you in?” Probably not yet! It’s just me running this blog right now, and I’m doing this for fun in between a full time job and school, so it will likely take a while to get to everyone.

“(Anything about the adopt vs shop debate)” Both can be good or bad! There are ethical and unethical shelters/rescues just like there are ethical and unethical breeders. Do your research before getting a dog from anywhere, but getting a dog from a good breeder is not ethically better or worse than getting a dog from a good shelter or rescue.

(Will add more FAQs as needed!)

[incorrect-next-to-normal]

ok so I realized yall dont know shit about miss luna marley!! so you're gonna hear about her! huge thanks to @/willowdied , my best friend, for helping me w her!

so luna is a purebred turkish van. she was rescued from an unethical cat breeder around four months old and was placed in care to help with recovery. since she was just a kitten, nothing was too bad for her yet. she was given to the caretaker's friend who was a therapy animal trainer.

the friend knew the Marley's, specifically margo. at book club/tea, the friend heard margo talking about some of the issues that henry, around 10/11 was having. he had severe separation anxiety, unhealthy stims (which I'll get into on his hc post), adhd, etc.

with margo and andrew's permission, they put luna through a roughly year and a half long program to help with these things specifically.

everyone knew henry was good with animals by that point. he had two ferrets whom he loved dearly and cared for on his own, he took care of strays, loved his mama's therapy dog, etc. getting him a therapy cat wasn't a worry.

let me tell you, these two were enamored the second they met. luna basically started climbing his pant leg until he picked her up, then she started purring.

shes about two years old when henry gets her, and lives to when Henry's in his late thirties. he keeps her ashes at home at a small altar, but that's a different conversation.

henry and Luna love each other off the bat. they become bonded quickly, which in this context, means that the lack of the other for long periods of time causes emotional/mental stress.

luna is certified to go everywhere with henry. he doesnt take her everywhere due to certain restrictions, but she comes most places. henry himself carries a knife in case someone tries to do anything to luna. like his mama, hes been a suspect in a few murder cases...

in the same way, luna is fiercely protective of henry. when a stranger tried to touch henry to stop him from stimming, she bit him and he needed about 10 stitches. the Marley's won the court case.

luna does have kittens at some point, before they get her fixed. the Marley's end up keeping the four kittens.

luna has complicated feelings about gabe and natalie. mostly, gabe is fine, but is also eccentric and the reason henry goes to a lot of loud places (like football games) despite his sensory issues. she mostly doesnt like natalie for a while. no particular reason. just fuck her that's why.

henry has a lot of trouble sleeping without luna, which is the reason he doesnt often stay at the Goodman's house overnight. if he absolutely has to spend a night without her, he just doesnt sleep.

luna is more inept at dealing with Henry's meltdowns since they happen the most often. she gets info his lap and starts purring and licking his face. it tends to snap him out of it within ten minutes.

shes a very darling girl and I love her.

[petboymart]

more! because i have lost control over my life!

this is puppy!himekawa adoption story because as much as i love puppy!bokuto and all of the other popular pet boys i want more content for the under appreciated good boys

so anyway you adopt puppy!himekawa from a breeder, they had a litter of puppies a while ago and all of them sold except for him, so he grew up there for the most part because everyone else wanted a puppy and he was already 20 (like human 20 idk when that is in puppy boy years). and you were going to get a puppy, but then you looked at him, and he looked like he had no hope of being adopted, and you went yep. that one officer. that’s the one who stole my heart. his sentence is life with me.

so you walk up to him, and you crouch down, and you scratch his curly brown hair and little ears. and he just melts into your touch, poor touch starved baby. and then you get up to go tell the breeder you want him you scratch a few puppy ears on the way, but he sees and he gets all sad because he thinks you just pet him out of pity. but then after getting everything sorted with the breeder, you come back into the adoption room with a yellow leash and collar with a cute little bow and bell on it, and he just thinks it’s so cute, and he’s so envious that not only does a puppy get to go home with you, but you even bought them a cute collar too!!! but then you walk past all of them, right back to him, bend down, and clip the collar around his neck. and once it processes he licks all over your face so exited because he has a home now!!!

so you get him in the car and the entire ride home he’s staring at you with love struck eyes and his tail is going so fast because he’s so happy that someone picked him!! him!! over all the puppies!! what are the odds!! he thinks that you must be some kind of angel!! and because he is practically rescue dog age you assume he already has a name and he kind of sits there for a minute with his eyebrows furrowed and you’re like oh my god did that bitch seriously have him for that long and not name him?!? and then he just says HIMEKAWA!!! so exited with a big grin on his face and you think oh my god he just named himself, quick praise him so he knows you like it!!! then you tell him “well himekawa i think that you have a very pretty name!” and he looks so happy and proud omg.

then you get him home and you show him around and you show him all the toys you bought for him and he thinks this is heaven. i died and this angel human took me to heaven. but really you live in like a two bedroom apartment with one bathroom.

so he immediately loves you, for obvious reasons. and he gets so so sad when you go to work, and he begs and begs you not to go, he whimpers and whines, and the second time you were about to leave he started crying. (it didn’t happen the first time because he didn’t realize that you would be gone for that long) so you go to your boss who you’re very close with and your like, i’m gonna work from home, and they’re like ok i don’t give a shit and then your like ok but i need you to help me with something. and then the next day you get up and get dressed for work and pretend like your going to leave, and obviously the whole routine starts, and just as his eyes get teary you’re like you know what? i’m tired of leaving you for work! i’m gonna call my boss right now and tell them that i’m going to work from home! and he gets so exited and he watched you pull out your phone and call your boss, and you put in on speaker and “bargain” with your boss to work from home to spend more time with you puppy who you love very much and your boss finally “relents” and your little puppy is just so amazed that you did that just for him!!

so then on he either sits in your lap or rests his head on your thigh while you tap away on your laptop, or write, or sketch, so content that you’re home all the time now.

he’s very playful, he will paw and attack all of his toys, the little bell on his collar jingles with every move. he tried to cook to help out but he somehow started three fires and melted one of the pan handles, so he just cleans. and he was so guilty, he’s such a little cry baby, so he came up to you, tears streaming down his face, begging for forgiveness, and your like i hated that pan anyway, it never cooked things right! honestly you did me a favor. you’re such a good boy himekawa! and he brightens up so quick because he did something good! he’s a good boy!

now the thing about getting intimate with him is that he wants to get intimate, but he’s scared to ask. as we can all see, he’s not very assertive and he has some confidence issues. but one day you come home from the store to him in nothing but a pair of little yellow briefs that you bought him that match the only other item he has on, his yellow collar with it’s little bell and bow, and he smiles so big at you and runs up to you, to explain that oh i was washing the dishes and got water on my clothes isn’t that funny! i put them in the washer and i haven’t gotten changed yet.

and you just smile gently at him while grabbing his hand and walking to your bedroom. you gently lay him on the bed and start kissing his chest and neck, his eyes get so wide, you can feel his cock start to get hard under you. then you pull off all your clothes and his little yellow boxers and you ask him if this is ok, and he just burst out with pleads and begs to please please fuck him pretty pretty please he’ll be such a good boy, so you stroke his little cock before putting it in to ride him. and he’s just whimpering and whining with a death grip on your hips. he starts bucking up into you because it feels so good master please go faster please please.

and eventually he gets tired of how slow you’re going so he flips you over and pounds into your pussy while whimpering and whining, and he starts crying like the little cry baby he is. once he cums he drops down between your thighs and ears his cum out of you, making sure you cum while he’s down there.

he’s very much a bratty bottom just without the bratty. like he’ll flip you over to be on top because he wants to go faster or harder but if you tell him no he will apologize and beg for forgiveness, with tears in his eyes.

he very much likes to ride your thigh while you work. it feels so good being so close to you, but he never takes his clothes off and always cums in his pants.

he also likes to eat you out while you work. he loves the taste of your pussy, he loves the praise and the head pats. every time he eats you out when you work he cums practically untouched aside from some head scratches, hair pulling, and ear rubbing.

puppy!himekawa is a very good little crybaby boy and he loves you so much.

-✌️

i 🥺

HES SO CUTEEEEEE

AHSIHSOFUSIUFFK

puppy himekawa so cute

hes so sweet and obedient Im gunna cry abt it

also don’t stop 💞 let the brainrot take over 💞

AND UNDERAPPRECIATED PETBOYS ARE A MUST IN THIS STORE

THEY NEED LOVE TOO 💞💞💞

[shyvioletcat]

Got any Touch & Go for us? I need my farm boy Rowan fix 😉

Everyone needs a farmboy Rowan fix today I think

Masterlist 

~~~~~

Remelle’s entrance could not have come at a worse time.

Rowan had been seconds away from kissing Aelin, a reckless decision on his part. He hardly knew the woman, not that he didn’t want to get to know her better. But he had taken one look at her beneath him as he braced himself above her, her face flushed and eyes bright, and the temptation to close that distance had been overwhelming.

Maybe Remelle’s turning up when she did was not such a bad thing after all. Rowan didn’t want to ruin anything before it started by going too fast.

Regardless Rowan rolled his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet. He knew her tone well enough to tell Remelle was relishing in the fact she had interrupted.

“Pearl is up at the house,” he said looking down towards the barn doors. “I’ll just grab the last of these kittens and I’ll come up too.”

There was a rustling and out of the corner of his eye he saw Aelin sit up. That seem to draw the last of the kittens out from hiding and they bounded over to her, climbing into her lap.

“Oh, so now you want to play,” she said, holding one of the fluffballs up in both her hands while another fought her shoe.

Rowan managed to scoop up the attacking kitten before it could run away again and grabbed a little tabby as it darted away to hide again. “I’ll go down then you can pass me those.”

“Sounds good,” Aelin said as the little black one climbed on her knee. She shifted the white kitten she already held to one hand and then picked up the black one, then stood carefully, trying to keep hold of the kittens and not fall at the same time.

Rowan easily got himself down the ladder and put the kitten safely on the ground. Aelin lent down and passed down the last of the kittens to him then he waited for Aelin to come down herself, not trusting her shoes for one second. He hovered but she managed to get down without mishap and landed with a small jump.

“Oh no,” Aelin said looking suddenly alarmed as she watched the last kitten go out the barn door. “I should make sure Fleetfoot hasn’t eaten those kittens. I don’t think she’s seen a cat in her life.”

Now equally alarmed Rowan followed her outside but it turned out they needn’t have worried. The big golden dog had made herself as small as possible, lying flat on the ground, nose sniffing at the kitten who had fluffed itself up as much as it could as it hissed at the dog.

Aelin let out laugh. “Um, good girl Fleetfoot.”

The dog’s eyes flicked up to her master.

“I’ll protect you,” Rowan said and scooped up the aggressive fluffy mess. “I have to see how Pearl’s doing but there’s an empty field to the west of the house if Fleetfoot wants to go for a run.”

“You say that like I know which direction west is,” Aelin said.

That made Rowan smirk and pointed west. “That way. There’s no animals to torment her.”

“I’ll grab the toys from the car and go over,” Aelin told him and headed for her car.

Rowan let out a heavy sigh and turned towards the house, hopefully he’d be able to dismiss Remelle quickly. But knowing her he didn’t like his chances.

~~~~~

As expected Remelle kept him longer than she needed to, asking inane questions about nothing. But the good thing was that Pearl was doing well and recovering like she should. So leaving the cat on her favourite spot on the couch he had to practically close the door in Remelle’s face, insisting he was being rude to his guests. From the expression she gave him he could tell she didn’t care in the slightest. Once Remelle was hidden behind the solid wood he went out his back door to find said guests.

Aelin was easy to spot, her golden hair shining in the sun. Fleetfoot bounded over to her through the grass a tennis ball in her mouth. She dropped it at Aelin’s feet, nose down, butt in the air, hopping from side to side. Aelin used a stick with a cup on the end to throw it again.

“That’s a fancy contraption,” Rowan said as he approached her.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “No need to get my hands dirty.”

Rowan looked down at his own hands, it was barely late morning and there was already dirt and gods knew what under his fingernails and the creases of his knuckles despite how many times he’d washed his hands. And Aelin, she was so… clean.

He came and stood beside her and instead of dropping the ball at Aelin’s feet, Fleetfoot dropped it at his.

“I think she’s sweet on you,” Aelin said.

With one hand he patted Fleetfoot’s head and then the other picked up the ball and threw it.

“That’s quite an arm,” Aelin said as she tracked the trajectory of the ball. Then she turned to face him fully. “Nice place you got here. What is it exactly you do besides find ways to hurt yourself?”

“My uncle actually owns the place. He’s one of the biggest horse breeders in Doranelle and that’s where his main ranch is. This place is a hub location for those who don’t want to travel all the way to Doranelle and he’ll drop off horses here that are going to other parts of Wendlyn, but I do keep a small herd here to sell myself for anyone interested.”

“What kind of horses does he breed?” Aelin asked.

Rowan threw ball for Fleetfoot again. “Work and leisure horses mainly. His son is an avid showjumper so he’s dabbled in that. But, yeah, mainly ranchers buy his horses.”

Aelin nodded, like she approved. “How did you end up here?”

“My cousin who worked here got married and wanted to be closer to family. It ah…” Rowan cleared his throat, not wanting to delve into this part of his past just yet. “It came at an opportune time for me. Perfect actually.”

If Aelin noticed his slight shift in mood she gave nothing away, and didn’t pursue that line of questioning either. Instead she asked him something he didn’t expect.

“So, Reggie,” she said with a smile, “is he a troublesome horse your uncle sent to you to sort out?”

“No, not this time,” Rowan said.

“This time?”

“It’s something my uncle does do, if he’s low on time or trainers,” Rowan explained. “But Reggie is a rescue. He’s been in some bad places so I can’t blame him for the way he acts.”

“Do you often take in rescues?” Aelin asked as she threw the ball this time with her stick.

“Most of my animals are rescues actually,” Rowan said.

Aelin’s eyes lit up. “Your animals?”

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a few actually. I can —“ Rowan’s phone started to buzz distracting him, he pulled it out of his pocket and saw a reminder going off telling him to bring in a horse for a buyer to see. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go get a horse. If Remelle hadn’t taken so long I would have taken you on a tour but…” he gave her a hopeful smile. “Maybe next time?”

He could tell Aelin was fighting her smile, and possible a snarky remark, as she said. “I think I’d like that.”

~~~~~

Please give a warm welcome to Rowan’s POV! I’ve decided that I really like this story and have made some changes to my original storyline

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