This isn't so much a blog about a cat as...

A blog about how crazy my Roomie and I are for animals.

As most of you know, our beloved, gorgeous, sultan of a flame point Siamese kitty, Lance Flame passed away last month, (if you want to catch up and read that post, click here).

Afterward we decided not to get another cat. That lasted all of a half a minute when a apparently pregnant cat came into my Roomie's clinic.

Then it turned out the cat was not pregnant. So we decided we would not get another cat.

That of course lasted a half a minute when out of the blue my Roomie got an email about a flame point Siamese kitten up for adoption.

But he had already been adopted. Now luckily we didn't bother to go through the 'we decide not to get another cat' stage. Instead we went to every shelter, humane society, or rescue organization in a 50 mile radius.

Because, you know, that's how we roll. I can't even tell you the ups and downs of that search just that we came home with a pregnant, REALLY pregnant cat.

We have turned our upstairs bathroom into a palatial birthing spa.

Why? Because while we still have 7 other animals including a Chihuahua that travels in my bra, there is a hole in our home. Lance, even at his healthiest, required our constant attention. He was a force of nature that moved the house around at his whim.

And now we have another force of nature in our home. A mother in crisis that requires our unique care.

We will miss Lance forever but hopefully the wonder of birth will help lighten our hearts.

Oh and did I mention that we ran out and bought a baby monitor and nanny cam so we can monitor every moment of our new munchkins.

Like I said this blog is more about our craziness than any cat :-)

The story of Tumbler

Tumbler, a tiny Yorkie, well... tumbled into one of my client's life.

They had lost their beloved German Shepherd, Dixie, several months before and had sworn off dogs. It had just hurt too much to lose her and besides, life was busy.

But not always in the good way. They had a child with significant health issues which meant Mom had to quit work and not only care for their son, but get to and from the myriad of doctor's appointments etc.

They had a cat. They loved the cat. That was enough.

As any of you who read my Twitter stream or blog probably have already guessed, it wasn't enough, not by far.

Fate forced Mom to go to the shelter to help find a friend's dog. Joyfully, that dog was found and returned home, but in the same run was a fluffy Yorkie who insisted on doing strange somersaults. She asked what was wrong, but the shelter didn't know and they couldn't afford to pay for the vet bills to find out.

Ok, Mom had sworn off dogs, but she couldn't let this little one be 'red-lined.' So despite her better judgement, she adopted the 10 month old Yorkie. About 15 minutes later she was in my office.

While the Yorkie did appear to have a perchance for doing a forward roll then busting out some break-dancing moves, he seemed perfectly healthy. We would run some lab work, but I thought the pup was healthy, just strangely playful.

But what was she going to do? Mom didn't want a dog, let alone a weird little one. I reassured her that we could find a home since it was free of any parasites or diseases so why didn't she take Tumbler home just for one night while I tried to find a foster home?

Now, of course, I saw the universe's work in Tumbler and of course, I knew if that little one made it to her house it would be Tumbler's home, but I was going to let Mom figure that out for herself!

I was a little worried however, when Mom and Tumbler were at my door at 8am the next day.

Had I missed something? I had. Exactly how much this little dog was going to change my client's life.

It turns out as soon as they got home, Tumbler did his little routine and their son, who had been too ill to run or play, got off the couch and started mimicking Tumbler's routine. What a sight!

Then it was time to go to the pediatrician. The child balked. He hated it. He hated taking his medication. He hated getting poked.

But what if Tumbler came along? The boy brightened. Mom thought she could hide the dog in her purse, but as soon as they got to the office her son began chattering to the other kids about Tumbler. Everybody had to see.

While the nurses were reluctant to have a dog in the waiting room, they had never seen my client's son be so happy and interactive.

The entire doctor's exam the boy chatted on about the new puppy. This pediatrician must have had kids and dogs too, because he informed the child if he wanted to be able to bring Tumbler in, he had to take all of his medication AND do all of his physical therapy. Of course!

So there Mom was on my doorstep at 8am to hug me and tell me of Tumbler and her tumbling son. She always wanted to make sure I had taken Tumbler's picture down for adoption. I laughed and told her I had never put it up #duh

You would think after being in veterinary medicine for over 30 years I would tire of such a story. I am here to tell you, I haven't and don't think I ever will.

If you enjoy tales of how "littleness" over comes big odds, leave me a comment. I am working on a book and would love to know the market out there for it! :-)

And of course if you like Patterson-style thrillers I have written a very un-silly serial killer book entitled Plain Jane. Read 50 pages for free (to make sure it isn't too dark for you :-) at: http://bit.ly/b60jVe

Until next week! :-)

"Yeah Us!"

Yes, that is a statement made by my pack about twelve thousand times a day. Think I am exaggerating? Um, think again.

We're going outside! "Yeah Us!"

We barked at a dog on the beach, "Yeah Us!"

We spilled Mommy's drink, "Yeah Us!"

Let me tell you there is no shortage of self-esteem around here. #none

They even 'Yeah Us!" as they run around shouting "Yeah Us!"

One would like that Linus spearheads this movement, but it started far earlier than his arrival (although no one does the "Yeah Us!" dance so well as that little Moppet).

Molly, the uber-alpha is of course the one to have started it. I mean, she thinks she rules the world, so why shouldn't she and her subjects indulge in a little self-appreciation?

Her question would be "Why isn't every single thing they do, or even think about doing, worthy of a victory dance?"

They take a drink of water. Why on earth wouldn't they run around, proclaiming that to the world?

Literally, while I was writing this blog, Molly jumped up onto the couch. Just a routine jump. Nothing special. No gymnastic moves, just a typical, usual jump. Yet there she was doing a little "Yeah Me!" jig before she laid down.

And here I thought I was maybe exaggerating that no matter how small the occurrence, my pack takes pride in it.

I AM NOT!

Ok, as I was typing that, Princess came over, coughed on a piece of dog food she had eaten too quickly (surprise, surprise), gagged then wiggled her booty "Yeah Me!"

So, if you ever need a pride transplant. Just DM me. My pack has PLENTY to go around!

Survivor - The Terrier Edition

I could (and usually do) wax poetic about what troopers dogs are. I mean their resilience, especially puppies is pretty freaking incredible.

But terriers? Holy cow. They were bred for tenacity. Like, why don't you go into that badger's den for me kind of tenacity.

So it is no surprise when a terrier beats all odds to survive.

I am not going to go into depth the trauma that "Totsipop" (named since she was all hard and tough on the outside, chasing squirrels and taking on Great Danes, yet yummy soft on the inside, winner of best kisser on her block 5 years running) went through.

Let's just say that rattlesnake was a little more than she had expected to take on.

And poor Totsipop had every known complication you can imagine. But did she give up?

Heck no! She was hooked up to 2 IV lines, fourteen medications and was being fed through a tube and she had the audacity to bark at the hospital cat (I mean she may have been on injured/reserve list but that didn't mean she had to put up with cats! #Imean #getreal).

I can't tell you how many times I warned her Mommy that we may need to say good-bye to Totsipop. But her Mommy just smiled and shook her head.

Nope. Totsipop would make it. Mommy would come and sit for hours with Tootsipop, sometimes when the terrier was barely clinging to consciousness and tell that her all the bad things the squirrels were doing in the backyard.

How the neighborhood possum was starting to dig around their wood pile (which according to Totsipop was sacrilege).

This was early in my career and my training told me that poor Mommy was just in denial, but lucky my heart could see that this owner knew more than my medical tests did. Seeing Tootsipop's crazy wire-hair and those determined eyes, I too knew that a stupid rattlesnake bite to the jugular wasn't going to get her!

Seven days later, Tootsipop trotted out of the clinic, bandaged and without quite the usual spring in her step, but trotted nonetheless.

Tootsipop taught me such a valuable lesson.

No matter the circumstances, hope can be as powerful a medicine as any injections I might have.

On this island, no doggie gets voted off!


If you liked this story, please leave a comment below. I am thinking of putting together a book of all the inspirational stories I have experience in my career and want to know if people would be interested.

Thanks so much and have a great week!

This one goes out to Lance Flame!

I am a dog person. I mean, I think you probably already knew that given the whole 'pupsinteacups' thing.

However I do have 2 cats of my own and live with 2 other cats. I love three of them. I mean they are animals so of course I love them.

But one? Oh, 1 used to be the sole apple of my eye (until Chief came and stole it, core and all :-)

His name is Lance Flame the Wonder Cat. And he really prefers if you shake your hands above your head when you say his name (he also likes you to say his name while you are spanking him but that is a whole other PG-13 rated blog).

Out of all my years as a veterinarian I have never met a cat like him. Sure I have met other bossy flame point Siamese. I have met cats that stole things... to punish you. I have met cats that were snuggle love bugs.

I have never met a cat that was all of those things and more.

Lance has ruled the house for nearly a decade and a half at a whopping 22 pounds. Did I mention he was a big boy?

When I first met him, at 4 weeks old, he could fit in the palm of my hand, glaring at me with those GLACIAL blue eyes of his. But he was so very sick. It took literally months of fluids, antibiotics, force-feeding and love to get him through.

Since then he has been the epitome of health...

Until last month when he was stricken with cancer. I can't tell you the devastation. No amount of fluids, antibiotics, force-feeding or even love will get him through this time. He is melting before our eyes.

To be a veterinarian and know that with all your skills and knowledge and experience you can't save your own cat?

There has been weeping and bawling and bargaining with God. But alas, it is becoming clearer and clearer that Lance is being called home.

So my Roomie and I have been preparing for it. What will life look like without Lance to tell us what to do every second of every day? I know we will feel unmoored.

Usually after the death of a pet, I wait until I feel ready, then go rescue another animal. It makes me feel better to do something proactive and positive.

However, with Lance and his Sultan mentality, both my Roomie and I felt that it would maybe not be honoring his memory to bring another cat into the household, and let's face it NOBODY can replace Lance Flame the Wonder Cat (and yes, one hand was up in the air doing 'jazz hands' while I typed that).

We discussed in depth whether or not to get another cat and made the connected decision to not replace him (because how could we)...

Until...

What came into my Roomie's clinic?

Um... a FEMALE Orange tabby (ok, rare enough) that clearly is a Siamese cross (ok, lots rarer) with BLUE eyes - ok, that really should be genetically impossible.

Oh and did I mention she is PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!

So yes, a pregnant stray cat came into my Roomie's clinic the day after we decided not to get another cat! And the chances she is carrying a male flame point? Um, pretty darn high.

It is like Lance heard that we weren't getting another cat and talked to the big guy about it. I mean, if we aren't going to go out looking, how is Lance going to come back? Or at the least make sure there was a Flame Point in the house (you know, to boss everyone around, since Lance is clearly worried we will fall in with the wrong crowd in his absence).

I am not sure what is going to happen next. I'm not sure how much longer we can keep Lance happy and comfortable. I don't know when this stray cat is going to give birth. I don't know if any of those kitten will be "The One."

All I do know is that this is another great story to tell any professor (see http://bit.ly/c1Dvva for the "Do dogs have souls" blog) that tries to tell me that animals don't have souls and aren't part of God's plan.

#Lancewouldcaretodisagree

How can you live with 5 dogs? In your BED?

Yes, even as a veterinarian I get asked this question... #alot

But you see, I barely even notice them. As a matter of fact, half the time my Roomie will ask me 'Where's Chief" or Princess or Linus, etc and I won't know, even though they are under the covers with me.

Well, I won't know until my foot falls asleep and I realize Princess is draped across it (a Chihuahua's signal of true and undying love) or my hip feels particularly warm (for only weighing 2 pounds, Chief can RADIATE body heat) or find a half destroyed cat toy between the sheets (ok, that one could be Orlin or Linus - certainly not Molly, otherwise the whole thing would be gone).

I do, however, usually know where Molly is, simply because we have a nightly, elaborate, grueling battle for my pillow.

You see, she thinks she is alpha and as alpha she should lay on the most comfortable pillow.

Therefore, each night I come to bed, I kick her off my pillow. Then she lays with her head on the corner. Then a paw hits me in the face, then I kick her to the other side of the bed. Then I get up to go the bathroom. Then I have to kick her off my pillow again.

You can see how this becomes a vicious cycle!

And did I mention she snores? Like a LUMBER JACK. Seriously, she could saw wood with that snore. And of course, remember she is sleeping on the corner of my pillow?

My Roomie can hear her from out in the hallway and yet, she is sleeping right next to my ear.

But would I have it any other way?

I could, of course, have them sleep in another room or crate them, but then how would I know how much my Chis and the rest of the pack love me (or in Molly's case replace me as Alpha)?

My question isn't how can I sleep with 5 dogs...

It is... why aren't you???? :-)

Remember, Mommy has written a mystery novel about serial killers. Which might seem odd, but then remember Princess' obsession with them and it becomes a little more clear! :-)

You can watch the trailer, listen to the audio excerpt, and even read up to 50 pages before you buy! Follow the link here: http://bit.ly/b60jVe and here is a 50% off coupon as well! RH88E

Thanks so much and we will see you next week!

The Fluffy Life

It’s not easy being adorable. White, fluffy, with a face that makes you want to go, “Awwww.” Small, but not so small that he's fragile. Boundless energy. Oh, and a personality the size of Montana.

These are the challenges that Linus faces on a day-to-day basis.

He’s made peace with it. See, none of this would be even the slightest problem if he were on his own, but instead he’s part of a pack that almost defies description.

There’s the aging alpha who calculates every move five steps ahead of time. There’s the Afghan mix who’s going deaf. The long-haired land-shark (excuse me, Chihuahua) who thinks every visitor is a serial killer.

And then, of course, there’s Chief, the two-pound, three legged Chi that holds his mommy’s heart.

How does a Tigger-like cutie like Linus compete??

Well, he doesn’t.

Luckily, Linus has his imaginary friend. He plays fetch with him, eats with him, even fights with him. And then, when his imaginary friend goes home, Linus comes inside and sleeps the sleep of the just.

See, Linus brings spunk to an otherwise spunk-less pack. But the pack can only take so much of it. So if Linus didn’t have his imaginary friend, there would be problems.

Instead, his energy is enough to stir the pot a little, without ever making it completely boil over. Pretty perfect, actually.

And that suits Linus just fine.


Remember, Mommy has written a mystery novel about serial killers. Which might seem odd, but then remember Princess' obsession with them and it becomes a little more clear! :-)

You can watch the trailer, listen to the audio excerpt, and even read up to 50 pages before you buy! Follow the link here: http://bit.ly/b60jVe and here is a 50% off coupon as well! RH88E

Thanks so much and we will see you next week!