About Me

On September 1, 2010 my sweet little muppethead, KiraDog, died. She was diagnosed with Cushings disease in November 2009 and it finally gave way to heart disease and liver failure. I knew I needed another dog to fill the void in my heart and my home so I worked with Furbaby Rescue (where Kira came from) and was gently encouraged to meet a particular dog in need of a forever home. On September 10, 2010 I adopted Conor. . . . This is his story.

About Me (and really, when you think about it, it IS all about ME):

Conor: Gender: Masculine; Usage: Irish, English, Irish Mythology; Pronounced: KAHN-ər (English): Anglicized form of the Gaelic name Conchobhar which means "dog lover" or "wolf lover" also "lover of hounds". It has been in use in Ireland for centuries and was the name of several Irish kings.

Hi everyone!

My name is Conor. Well, it used to be Bumper but my mom thought it was as silly name (and in a way, so did I) for a grown-up puppy so she re-named me Conor. Conor, now that's a good strong manly-man Irish name, don't you think? I'm quite proud of it myself :-)

Anyway, I'm a "Liver" coloured Shih Tzu and I was about 2 1/2 years old when I was adopted (Mom says my Birthday is July 4, 2008! She's not 100% sure of the right date, but that's the day she picked). I have allergies and have to be careful (pfft!) about what I eat - no wheat, grains, or beef allowed. I'm a rambunctious guy who always seems to find trouble, er...toys, to play with. I like watching the world around me from my perch in the kitchen bay window and love my mom to bits - and even though he didn't really like me much, I also miss SirWillyCat a little.

Characters in my life:

  • Aunt Jo and Uncle Dale: Mom and Aunt Jo have been friends for almost 30 years, since high school. Aunt Jo is a pet person and raised both her kids to love animals. Uncle Dale, having grown up on a farm, had to be converted a little bit.
  • Aunt Diane: Mom's friend and (retired) co-worker. Aunt Diane lives a few doors away from us and we sometimes go to her place for a visit.
  • Miss Eleni: Founder of Furbaby Rescue
  • Miss Nicole: A Furbaby adopter who has two puppers to call her own. She lives in a different town, but close enough to mom they could visit (if their schedules ever let them!) Miss Nicole loves hearing my stories :-)
  • Miss Vanja: Met mom through Furbaby Rescue. They haven't met in person 'cause she lives far away.
  • VetLady: Dr. I. Elizabeth Borgmann, founder of the Whatcom Road Veterinary Clinic
  • Willy: (aka SirWillyCat): Adopted January 7, 1994. Willy died on January 24, 2011. He was 17 1/2 years old.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Mystery of the smelly breath has been solved,,,well, discovered.

I've been at a loss trying to figure out why Conor's breath is so stinky.  Vanja suggested maybe he's a poop eater (not unusual with Shih Tzu's).  I didn't think so 'cause he had a few poop accidents when he first moved in and they were waiting for me when I got home.

Anyway, last night we headed upstairs for bed and while I brushed my teeth (etc.) Conor went out the room.  I didn't think much of it, in fact it barely registered with me.

Then when I went to crawl in to bed, I called for Conor and well, no answer!  Weird!!  SO I got back up and WHAT THE HELL???????????  Conor is in Willy's "room" EATING HIS POOP FROM THE LITTER BOX!!!!!

I thought I had it pretty well blocked off, but apparently His Royal Self could wiggle through the hole I created and snack away.  Now, I have a pretty strong stomach, but even that was too much and bile started creeping up.

So there I am at 11 p.m. cutting MORE plastic mesh (from a cheap old baby gate), reinforcing it with thick cardboard from the kitty litter box and zip-tying it all together.  Then I dropped the gate to about 5" tightening up the access hole for SirWillyCat to poop in peace.

I had to snicker because when I caught Conor in the room, I just looked at him and ordered him out.  He flattened his ears and wouldn't make eye contact with me.  He went to the end of the hallway and waited at the top of the stairs.

After my renovation project, I called him to bed and he SLUNK into the room, crawled onto his bed and (near as I can tell) stayed there all night long.  After work today I took a look and it would "appear" the litter box wasn't doubling as a buffet during my absence.

Here are some pictures of the renovated gate and a token picture of his bed beside mine:

Walk through baby gate, raised to allow cat access.
Close up of new hole, about 4" by 5".

I jammed a piece of cardboard underneath so the mesh/cardboard reinforcement wouldn't be flop back and forth or be flexible.  I told Conor that if he gets his arse stuck in the hole, he's on his own.  He got himself into it, he can get himself out of it.  As a aside, when Willy was under a year old he climbed the curtains and was perched on the rail, FREAKING out.  It was a bachelor apartment and I was asleep (shift worker on Midnights at the time).  I opened one eye, told him to shut up and that he got himself up, he can bloody well find his way down.  When I woke up later that evening he was down and curled up beside me.

Conor's bed, with MissNicole's blankey

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