Thunder

You know those people who have one of those houses that sounds like a kennel the minute you pull up into their driveway? The ones who are usually disheveled by the time they actually make it to the door?

That was our house BEFORE Thunder laid a paw inside the threshold! Yes, we are the crazy people at the end of the street with an out of control Moluccan Cockatoo named Comet, who is usually being carried around from various perches and cages throughout the house to find one where she’ll leave the rest of the tribe alone, and be quiet for more than 2 minutes- call my voicemail for a taste of her antics! And dogs and cats and more birds……

On July 15, 2012, we got the call we had been waiting for. About 2 years ago, we signed up with GRRSN, but up to that day, we hadn’t managed to adopt or foster any Golden angels. We had 3 Craigslist dogs, two of them Goldens – along with 3 birds and 3 cats. My fiancée and I both work for the government full time — an endeavor we partake in merely to afford pet supplies and luxurious travel once per year. Our true goal is to open some kind of animal sanctuary, but we don’t have the land nor the connections yet. But back to Thunder — aka Parker. Off we go to Rainbow Animal Hospital for our meet and greet. We took one look at the block head, and knew this was a keeper, not just a foster. He had to be neutered so the entire week was spent introducing him to our brood, taking him to and from the vet, along with our 3 year old Golden, Rusty, who had decided to come down with kennel cough and swallowing 3 objects of unknown origin. By this time, Thunder and my son’s Chihuahua pup were all hacking/coughing — mild cases of kennel cough for all. Even though we pride ourselves at being experts at staying one step ahead of our pets, that week was a bit overwhelming!

A bit about the other players — Rusty, the 3 year old Golden from Craigslist, is a bit portly — ok, he’s like 95 pounds, but he is big boned and we are working on a diet regimen of sorts. He HATES to swim, so we are a bit limited with options with our full time work schedule. Punkin, our other Golden Craigslist dog, is the epitome of an “old Golden Angel”- very content to play with a ball and swim. Did I mention she was diagnosed with cancer last year?? We haven’t told her, so I don’t think she knows. We are blessed to have her in our lives for however long she has left in this earthly realm. Summer — “ our wannabe Golden”– more a mix of – oh heck, we aren’t sure, picture a miniature golden with a Border collie look and disposition. She has always been our lesson in patience! And the alpha dog.

So of course, go to work we must, and here comes the fun part! The regulars have a routine while we are gone — no swimming, tear up only toys, and occasionally irritate Lolita, the only cat that ventures downstairs — I think she thinks she’s a dog, but that’s another story. Roll in Thunder, no history, and we try to make sure everyone is safe and secure for our workday. First day, I stay home — can’t bring myself to go to work and leave Thunder in unknown territory, per se — plus I cut my toe trying to secure Comet the Cockatoo’s cage. Good enough reason to stay home! Meanwhile, Thunder who the night before looked like the neutering had gotten the better of him, is racing around the house, in no obvious discomfort. surgical collar comes off, and he never even looked at his wound again.

Next morning we decide to put Thunder in one of the many crates we have available to us in the house. Lots of toys, a chew toy or two, what could happen — right? Upon entering the house, we are met by all 4 dogs — and no one is talking! He managed to squeeze his 75 lb. body and block head through the side of the crate. None the worse for wear, I might add! Let’s bring up now the fact that all but Punkin are crated at night — partly due to the fact that she spent most of her life, prior to us, outside, and was never allowed in the house, and also that the most fascinating part for Thunder and bedtime, is getting to play with Kiki and Andy — “the upstairs cats”! Don’t ask me, but during the day, they feel it’s beneath them to deal with slobbering dogs downstairs. Thunder, on the other hand, thought it was simply amazing that they were ready and willing to engage with him upstairs! So it’s a bedroom crib/crate for Thunder. Now given his history downstairs, you’d think we’d have a problem. Nope! In he goes, without prodding, or toys, and simply poses! I swear, we could sell the crate based on his actions alone in this crate! Another one of those shaking my head moments. But back to the work dilemma…. and the downstairs/crate — that only one day he managed to stay in. The rest of the days, whether we left him out or not, we were coming home to “What doesn’t belong in this pile?” Kitchen towels, cat bowls, magazines and newspapers, all piled by the back door. Perhaps that was the only place he was allowed to play with things? We would purposely leave the house with an array of “safe toys/distractions” piled by the back door — well, actually, all over the downstairs. Other people would look at it horrified, and assume we’d been robbed, but we were thrilled that it was nothing of value! Still, knowing that we had secured the crate in the only way possible, and he still beat us, we had to leave him out during the day. We came home to the rattan on a prized couch of my mom’s being chewed/redecorated! While I enjoy moving furniture around as much as the next person, we reluctantly moved all of the rattan outside, and left only the bare bones furniture inside. I hope we don’t have to resort to having lawn chairs in the living room until he finds his way! My fiancée did what anyone would do, of course — we are having another patio cover installed in the backyard, to accommodate the extra furniture! Bless his heart!

Then comes the scary part. A few weeks after we got Thunder, we were getting ready to go to bed and he began to tremble and I knew right away he was having a seizure. The poor baby — we just held him gently on the floor, talking to and petting him until he came out of it. Having had dogs all my life, this was unexpected, as I’ve only had one that had a seizure — and he ONLY had one! We are hoping maybe this was only a fluke, too. But the dark thoughts come into my mind when I look at the scar between his eyes and wonder what his story really is. Alas, he’s not talking and maybe that’s for the better. He’s decided that we ALWAYS come home, so he is not quite as maniacal about the redecorating sessions! A friend asked me what I was going to do about the mess — I replied — clean it up and just love the boy, Thunder! A day at a time — yes? And…. to be continued………!

Hugs and stuff~

Camille and Jim