Smell My Feet

There are three types of grocery stores in the south:

1. The Uppity Grocer: a store full of lots of ingredients that you have no idea how to pronounce, let alone be able to afford to buy. These store can easily be identified by their display of cheeses, truffle oils and fancy people behind the meat counter who may have actually met the cow you are about to buy thanks to a tour of the organic beef farm.

2. The Middle Class Grocer: this is usually a large chain store that offers the usual fare with a few specialty sections of organic, vegetarian and gluten-free offerings. You know you're in a middle-class store when their generic brands have fancy labels to make you feel better about the fact you are really buying the rejects of the brand-name foods.

3. The Country Grocer: this store is usually found in an abandoned shopping center where a middle class grocery used to be located. Due to the giant jars of pickled foods, you really have to watch your kids so they don't ruin the pig's feet display.

I tend to shop at option two when restocking our cabinets, and those fancy generic labels really do make my pantry look very delectable. But when I'm looking for foods to feed my girls, I make a trip to the country store. A middle class or uppity grocery would never have all of the animal parts for sale that I use to make up my girls' raw diet. You can't find backs, necks, gizzards, livers or hearts at the normal meat counter - middle class folks might get scared. But at the country grocery store, they have all this - and more.

Yep, I said more. For the first time ever at a commercial grocery store - country or otherwise - I purchased a package of chicken feet for the girls to nibble on. Chicken feet, while attached to a live bird, aren't the prettiest things to look at. Chicken feet detached and piled into one of those butcher trays and wrapped in plastic wrap is down right gross and creepy. Even worse, is looking at a display full of them.

I really don't want to know who buys these other than people who feed raw. I'm pretty sure that anyone who practices voodoo or witchcraft would need the feet from a live bird and not those that are packaged, but maybe I'm wrong.

Nonetheless, my girls enjoy their mid-day snack, talons and all. But I've asked them not to get too used to such a delicacy. I really don't like seeing these things clawing to get out of the plastic bag in the bottom of my fridge every time I go to get a drink.

The Skinny

It's an old wives' tale that Southern women have the best skin of anyone in the U.S. With fewer wrinkles and better texture than our Northern counterparts, us Belles chalk up our flawless complexions to the excessive humidity and our tendency to wear more make up (which has SPF) than most women on this planet.

I don't think the same is true for Southern greyhounds. Spring, summer and fall in our house we fight a daily fight to keep skin allergies at bay. Unfortunately, Roxy has had a horrible allergy season so far and there's no end in sight.

It started with big puss bumps on her stomach as the grass started to grow. They were red and angry, but were easy to manage with regular cleaning. They didn't hurt her and I never caught her licking them. Next came the excessive chewing of the rump. We tried benadryl, some prescription antihistamines and medicated shampoos and it only provided limited relief.

Currently we are in the peeling stage. This picture isn't great as she is very embarrassed about her condition and prefers for me not to document it for the world to see, but I'm the one with opposable thumbs so I win. Her tummy is in a chronic peeling stage. After two weeks of antibiotics and some topical stuff, it still isn't much better - although the itching is less frequent.

I'm hoping after we're on the upswing with her skin. Maybe she needs to wear more sunscreen? Seka just thinks Roxy is after more attention. Whatever the reason, her skin isn't Georgia peach-perfect.

Kitty Survivor

The tribe has NOT spoken! Sam returned to us thirsty, hungry, dirty and tired at 12:30a this morning. Who knows what she has been through. She hasn't left our side since her late arrival. Thank you for all of the kind thoughts, prayers and white light that you guys sent out. You helped to bring our Sam home.


-- Post From My iPhone

RIP Boo Radley

I was plowing through books during the summer of 1990, which was pretty typical behavior for me at that age. I had finished my summer reading list plus a few other casual books and found myself on vacation in North Carolina without anything to read. My mom went over to my grandparent's glass front book case that rattled every time you walked near it and pulled out her copy of To Kill A Mocking Bird. From that day forward I've loved Atticus, Scout, and Boo Radley.

My Boo Radley came into my life just after my father passed away in the summer of 1999. Kev thought having a kitten around would cheer up our gloomy home. In walked this sweet, spunky, bundle of joy that was so black she appeared face-less when she closed her eyes. Even her whiskers were black. It was our Siamese cat who gave Boo Radley her name. This sweet little peanut scared the pants off our tough little brown cookie. Eventually, they became best friends.

Yesterday, Boo and her BFF/sister, Sam, went out like they do every morning. Only when I came back to let them in, Boo was laying in the sun, not moving. It appears that the great Boo Radley may have been bitten by a snake, as there was no other trauma to her body. Her sister is no where to be found.

Boo Radley was fat and friendly. She loved everyone: dogs, foster dogs, strange neighborhood cats, foster cats, children who pulled her tail and chased her around the house, and of course her family. We lovingly called her "Donkey" from Shrek due to her swayed back, short legs and swinging belly. Not to mention her delightful personality. 

Boo could often be found sleeping with or on one of the dogs. And if a dog protested, she just gave them a little sideways glance and proceeded to nestle in where ever she liked. The funny thing is, every dog she cuddled with learned to love it. I think it was her exceptional purrrrr that relaxed even the most uptight pup.

Boo and Nomie, whom we lost in 2007, are together now. They were inseparable until Nomie's passing. I can only hope they are waiting for me.

Godspeed Boo Radley. We love you and miss you.

P.S. Please send good thoughts to send Sam home to us. Thank you!

Doggie Dentures

I always marveled at my grandparents' "partial plates" soaking at night in the bathroom while I brushed my teeth before bed. I never understood why they didn't keep them in all the time. I always thought you'd want to have your teeth whether you were awake or asleep.

Despite all efforts to keep my girls' teeth brilliant white, my raw-fed youngest now needs two teeth removed. I really don't like the idea of Roxy having teeth pulled, but I know that it is necessary. You see, Roxy never had a dental like most dogs when they are spayed through their adoption group. She had complications during her spay and they didn't have time to fool with her teeth while they were trying to stop the excessive bleeding. Her teeth were gross from day one and we have brushed them, put special stuff in her water, and finally switched to a raw diet to improve both the appearance of her pearly whites and her killer breath. 

Ninety percent of her teeth have improved and at first glance you would think she has an excellent set of greyhound choppers. But pull up the corner of her mouth on each side, you will that her premolars on each side (or maybe they are her molars - I'm not a doggie dentist) that have roots exposed. Upon inspection by Dr. Hottie, it has been decided that they must come out sooner rather than later. 

So the date has been set: July 29. Until then she is on soft food only - no bones, turkey necks, or chicken backs. We're doing antibiotics twice a day for 14 days before surgery. She'll also need pain meds and a different antibiotic after surgery. 

Needless to say, I'm a bit nervous about this whole thing. This will be the first time she is put under after her spay, of which she had a hard time recovering from the anesthesia. I'm nervous about her eating raw food again. I mean how do you chew turkey necks without back teeth? I'm nervous about a secondary infection. I'm nervous about the pain she will be in. I think it may be time to up my anxiety meds. 

Maybe she'll need doggie dentures after all. I guess she'll want me to soak them overnight too. Do they make chicken-flavored poligrip?

Face Time

Everyone has seen pictures of a little kid on their first birthday with cake and icing all over their face. I'm sure tucked away in your mom's dresser drawer, there's probably a similar picture of yourself. This seems to be some sort of messy right of passage for every kid. I know these pictures exist of me somewhere, I guess the difference is I was 8.

I guess Seka realized I don't have pictures of her caught with frosting on her face, so she settled for the next best thing - yogurt. I've become diligent with her supplements, as her arthritis in her three-toed foot has become very obvious. I really would rather stick to doing as much natural treatment as I can, before we turn to prescription medication.

So each day I mix her glucosamine, MSM, and yucca extract, in a tablespoon (or two) of yogurt. I use this as a mid-day treat for the girls, served up in a small Gladware cup. Seka is pretty good about manipulating anything with her mouth. She can pick up just about any cup, glass, container, bone or kong - as long as it has food in it. She prefers to take the whole container and settle in on her bed to clean it out.

How she accomplished getting this yogurt to settled down in the dimple of her needle nose, I will never know. Maybe she was just enhancing her white flame on her nose. Maybe she was saving some for later. Whatever the reason, she kept that yogurt neatly in the groove of her nose without spilling a drop.

Clean up for Seka was a lot easier than a kid's first birthday cake and ice cream face. I went to a first birthday party one time where the mom had to suck the frosting out of the kid's nose with one of those gross ball sucker things. Needless to say, I passed on the cake and ice cream after seeing that.

Bark My Ride

I have always been envious of those commercials where someone walks out to their garage and a new car is sitting there with a bow on top. A loving surprise from their significant other as a gift for their birthday or Christmas. I imagined myself in that lucky girl's shoes and even practiced my surprise faces as a kid so I would be prepared when my husband gave me the gift of new car smell on some important day.

Needless to say, after you grow up you learn to roll your eyes at those commercials as you realize how unrealistic they are. Things like that only happen on The Real Housewives or a sit-com. Well, on my 34th birthday, fantasy became reality!

Meet Ruby, my new ride. I love her. The girls love her. And my husband surprised me with her for my birthday a couple of weeks ago. We said goodbye to our 10-year old, 2-door Acura and hello to a 2010 Hyundai Santa Fe, complete with navigation and blue tooth! Fancy.

Now the only thing left to do is to select the greyhound decals for the back! Oh, and I'm not sure I used one of my practiced surprised faces, but there were tears and speechlessness involved.