And furbabies make 5!

I should be cleaning right now, but I think I'm starting to become addicted to this blogging thing.  We'll see how long this lasts!

Everything in the Marine Corps seems to happen a little bit faster than things in the "real world".  I'm not quite sure why that is- maybe its the deployment cycle, who knows.  But Randy and I are definitely in the minority in that we don't have any kids yet.  And don't really want kids for a while.  I'm just too stubborn and selfish at the moment, and it pains me some mornings to have to get up to let the dog out, let alone care for another human being.  And for those that know Randy- well, that should be explanation enough right there... ha!

So, 2 days after our wedding back in 2007, we decided to adopt.  Furbabies that is.  We are both animal lovers- in fact, if given the opportunity, we would probably have a "dalmatian plantation"!  Off to the SPCA we went, on the great search for the perfect cats for us.  We went to the shelter thinking we just wanted one cat.  Somehow we wound up with 2.  Funny how that works.    

 

 

 

 

My firstborn, Damon.  October 2007

The middle child- Johnny. November 2007

Now, we chose Damon first.  He was sweet, cuddly, and fluffy.  Once we had chosen him, one of the volunteers said... "You know, he has a brother...." Well, crap.  They brought Johnny out, and explained to us that when he had been neutered, he had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and was well... slightly off.  He was kinda wobbly, and had a runny nose.  They weren't sure if it was permanent, or if he would outgrow it. (Since then, he's grown out of it all- except he still walks funny.)  But they handed him to me, and he nuzzled right into my neck and started purring... and well, it was a done deal.  

And then there were two.

So we were a happy little family of four- Randy, me, Johnny and Damon.  (We are huge Yankees fans, and thats where the boys got their names.  Since then, Johnny Damon has left the Yankees, and we've learned to only name pets after retired Yankees players!)

A few months later, Randy was helping our neighbors next door move into a townhouse down the street.  When they got to the house, the people that were moving out had abandoned their puppy.  This dog had been locked in her crate with NO food and NO water for at least 3 days.  Ugh.  People make me sick.  

So the sucker that my husband is, called me and said.... there's this dog and I love her and I think we should keep her. NO NO NO!  That was not my PLAN. (There's that planning thing again.)  My plan was to get a puppy that summer, since I would be off from school, and be able to train her and housebreak her and all that fun nonsense.  

Turns out some of the best laid plans are meant to be broken.  After many, many, MANY discussions- and the fact that the only place we could find to take her was just going to euthanize her because she was potentially part pit bull- we decided to keep Mocha.  

Her first picture with us- about 4 months old and 27 lbs- March 2008

Her face just kills me-how could someone actually abandon a face like that?!  She was malnourished- nothing but skin and bones, and after months of misdiagnosed urinary tract infections, she had Lyme disease too.  I'm not positive, but I also think that the woman in the house she was living in just beat the heck out of her- because it took poor Mocha forever to come near me.  She still flinches sometimes when I go to pet her, because she thinks I might hit her.  :(

My only stipulation was that we would take her to obedience school.  I grew up with big dogs, and I REFUSED to have a big dog that would not listen to me, especially with Randy being gone so much.   So off to Petsmart we went, and after 16 weeks of classes, we had a graduate on our hands.  

So, us, plus 3 furbabies make 5.  Some days I feel like I live in the zoo.  But on the days when Johnny and Mocha are cuddled up on the couch with me, and Damon is on his ottoman, I wouldn't have it any other way.  These 3 are my kids, and I think during the deployment, they might be the only things that keep me sane.  And, on some mornings, the only reason I drag my sorry butt out of bed!