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.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

I'm a Lucky Dog!

I gots my very own tree IN the house!  I'm not allowed to go potty on it, though.  Mom says if I try my junk might get fried - 'cause there are almost 500 lights on it!!

Mom told me that a few years ago she up-sized her little 4' tree to a big ol' 6' tree that came with lights already attached, 300 of 'em.  Mom showed me that it doesn't look all the cheery with only 300 lights so she wraps two more strings around the "trunk" and through the garland draping the front.  Now it looks like a cheerful Christmas tree!

She's not done yet, she said we're going to hang decoration on the tree and get it all fixed up before turning it on, but that's for another day.

Oh!  I almost forgot to tell you:  I got to be a protective little brother today :-)  So Willy hasn't been all that active lately; he's slowing down as he gets old(er) - he's 17 1/2 years old for cryin' out loud!  He doesn't groom himself all that much and mom doesn't think he uses the scratching posts or floor pads anymore either.  Anyway, his fur on his hips is pretty badly matted up and his nails were so long he clicked when he walked.  So this morning mom rolled him up in a towel and an old sheet, put a vet clinic-type of cone around his head, and took out the heavy-duty nail clippers.  Not the wimpy little clippers she normally uses on her fingers, but the big ol' toe-nail ones!  One nail was so long, it curled around his toe pad.  Mom figured he was in rough shape, but that upset her to have to dig that nail out.

I know it hurt Willy 'cause he was howling and screaming up a storm!  I got scared that mom was hurting him and started barking and kicking up my own storm.  Now, I know I'm not allowed up on the bed but I HAD to get up there to stop mom from hurting my big brother.  Right?  RIGHT?

To make a long story short, mom got the long nail out, Willy stopped screaming, then mom mopped up the blood.  After the howling stopped (mom's and Willy's!!) she was able to take the matt comb and tackle his hips.  She only worked one side today 'cause he was upset about the manicure and even then, she didn't do a thorough job of it so next weekend he gets his back feet nails trimmed and the matts are getting cut out.

I shall guard my big brother very carefully to ensure he has a true Spa experience and not whateverthehell he went through today ever again!  Harumph!!

But in the end mom said I'm a Good Little Brother :-)

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