Our Alaskan Adventure...

Nope. 

Not that kind of adventure.  We're currently too poor for that.

This is our new adventure.

Photo Credit Dog Orphan Photographer.

Meet Alaska.

She's the reason we can no longer have nice things.

She's 4 years old and a rescue from South Carolina, by way of Georgia and then the humane society about 90 minutes from here. It was a long journey.  She was at the shelter here for about 7 months, was adopted, and then brought back in, where she sat in a concrete kennel, until we came along.  Now she has a 300 square foot outdoor kennel to run off leash...

In which she'll do a few circles and then sit at the window, wondering why she's not with her people. In fact, she doesn't really want to be without her people, like ever.  So we go on a lot of car rides...

I've finally found a restraint system that she doesn't want to get through, so now she, and all her fur, can stay in the back safely while we head to Petsmart, PetCo, the wooded trails, wrestling practice, Grammie's, and waterfront.  Apparently the beach, before a storm, is where she finds her zen...

She can't help herself when we find a freshwater spring.  She stops for a drink before submerging herself for a cold bath...

As with any Husky, you have to run off all that energy, out so we go out a lot. It's also a good idea to have a crate while you're out so they don't hurt themselves and destroy things you didn't even know you still had. Our crate lasted about 4 days. She'll go in to lay down every now and then, but then gets distracted by a bug of sorts and is out and ready to play.

She appears to be completely house broken.  She loves people.  Other dogs, not so much.  While we've made baby steps in progress (they can get close enough to sniff now) she gets nippy if they move too quickly.  The weird part is it's only some dogs, others she could care less about.

She has never liked toys, and has no idea what fetch is.  Being a dog who can never be off leash, it's not a good idea to teach her either.  She has found two toys that occupy her time. One is a rope with a ball at the end.  She plays with it by herself mostly, hitting herself in the head.  The other is a Kong activity toy that gives her treats. She basically trashes it until she gets the salmon treats out, then leaves the rest for the ants.

She was treated for heartworm, a prevalent condition for strays down south, and will be getting her nails done tomorrow as they have gotten quite long. She struggles with the hardwood floors. The shelter she's been in is fantastic, but they can only do so much.  She has dark red fur and hard callus on her elbows from sleeping on the concrete for so long. We're working on softening hem up...

She doesn't bark.  Except last night when Oldest came home.  I said "Is that Oldest out there?" And she barked once.  Otherwise nothing. Ever. Unless another dog's coming at her barking, then it's 2 warning barks on her hind legs.

She loves Netflix-ing with Youngest, and begging for food that she can not eat.  She'll apparently do some really sketchy stuff for a Klondike bar...

 She's got one little strip of white in the lower part of her iris.  Otherwise she has completely brown eyes.  I got a DNA test kit for her mainly out of curiosity, but also so we'd know if there were any unexpected health issues we might need to watch for as she gets older. We should get the results in about 3 weeks.

But mostly, she's just happy to be in a house, with plenty of belly rubs and feet to sleep on...

If You Build It...

I am a caretaker. 

I know it. 

The world knows it. 

I am everyone's Mamma.

I think my breaking point was one ridiculously hot day in the beginning of August when I "mamma-ed" a new co-worker cautioning him on the hazards of riding in the back of the mail truck that day, and then followed it up with "Because I'm everyone's Mamma... and we need you alive to deliver packages at Christmas".

At that moment, I realized it was time.

Mr. Chewey Cat has been gone now for about a year and a half.  In the beginning the thought of another pet was unbearable, and to be honest, not having to worry about him all the time anymore was freeing.  His renal failure came on quick, his behavior became erratic and we were pretty sure he'd had multiple strokes.  But, time has past... 18 months worth... and it's apparent something's missing here.  And with the boys becoming more and more independent, I'm clearly subconsciously seeking something to take care of.

So I caved.

We're getting a dog.

I debated getting an Alaskan Klee Kai from a breeder.  I joined the National rescue, since I wasn't looking for a puppy anyway.  Turns out even the rescue only gets about 5 per year, and the waitlist is years long.  With my history volunteering at the Humane Society, I knew a puppy from a breeder was just not for me. 

So I turned to Petfinder, which has proven to be more than frustrating.  It is rarely updated so most often you are inquiring on dogs that have already found homes.  Plus you need to be pre-approved by each center, so odds are the dog you're looking for is at a different one that where you've been approved, and you have to apply all over again, and by then, that dog is gone. *sigh*

Then I found a BEAUTIFUL dog, Tristan, on the Ft. Benning Shelter's Facebook site.  We were all set to go with him until I realized it was going to cost $1,500-$2K to get him here from Georgia, sight unseen.  I tried every available option I could think of, including driving 20 hours down and 20 hours back over 3 days to get him. In the end, I just kept thinking, If we are the right family for him, it wouldn't be this hard. So I made the hard choice to let him go.  His perfect family is out there, just not with us.

In the meantime we started getting the house ready.  We put up a zip line run for easy escape into the backyard. We bought bowls, a leash, and lots and lots of poop bags. Knowing we wanted a Husky, we knew we would need a fenced area to play off leash since they tend to run, and the 3 foot chain link we currently had was just not going to work.  If you've been around a while you know we've slowly been replacing the fence with custom pressure treated along the driveway and the back, but I knew there was no way we could afford to keep going at 6-8 feet high throughout the rest of the yard.  So we compromised.  I finished the driveway side with the pressure treated, and we did the kennel area with 6 foot stockade that was on clearance at the Depot...

Of course, we had to have a doggie window.  I did a ton of research and ultimately came up with this. It's stair balusters sold open stock at the Depot.  Way less money than a custom panel and I could make it any size.  The process has been painfully slow but we were getting there...

The wonky decline in the fence on the left has been fixed since this picture, I assure you.  Funny, I look at this picture and think, was I drinking??? But, no... I was just tired. Anyhoo...

We just kept going on the Field Of Dreams premise that if we built it they would come...

In the midst of all the building, our dishwasher died. This past Friday, the husband was installing a new one, going up and down stairs for this tool and that, cutting the breaker, etc.  Frustrated that he could not find the teflon tape, he decided to look one more time in an odd section of the basement in an old red tool box. 

That's when he saw him.

An orange and black cat.  Crouched in the corner.  Just looking at him.

What. The. ???

The husband insisted he did not leave the door open.  The last day the door had been left open unsupervised was Monday when I fixed the wonkiness in the fence, four days earlier.

Four Days People!

Yet here's this cat.  Just hanging out in our basement.

We have no idea how long it's been there or how it got in. But when the husband opened the basement door, he bolted.  Ironically the neighborhood cat, Lyra, has been coming around the last few days crying a lot, which she hasn't done since Chewey left us.  Maybe she was trying to tell us something like...

we built it... and he came.

Just not the he we expected.

***Note:*** We are not keeping the stray cat.  He's off happily causing chaos elsewhere.  For now we have finished the kennel as much as we can, ordered a crate, and are crossing our fingers all goes well at our second meet and greet with a certain 4 year old girl...