Tag Archives: animals

Ubi Has A Peg Leg


It was 4:00 am this past Wednesday night.  Just like the past 3 nights, Ubi was sleeping with me on the couch.  I felt this was safe because my couch is so low to the ground.  The highest point is no more than 2 feet above the ground.  Unlike the past 3 nights, at 4:00 am I woke up to a thud, and then loud screeching.  “Oh no!  Ubi!”, I cried out loud.

I got up and turned on the light and picked him up.  He was shaking violently and yelping.  I comforted him as best I could, stroking him, as he looked up at me with those all too expressive eyes.  I knew he was in severe pain.

Eventually he stopped shaking and squealing though, and I put him on the ground to see if he was limping.  He wasn’t putting any weight on his right rear leg.  He limped over to his crate, stepped inside, and lied down and went to sleep.  I closed the door to his crate, and decided to wait until morning to take him to the vet since he wasn’t complaining anymore and he was resting.

The next morning I called the vet at 7:00 am, right when they opened, and they got me an appointment at 9:00 am.  An x-ray showed a broken tibia in his right rear leg.  I felt so bad.  I felt like I used very poor judgement and I could never forgive myself.

The picture above was from when I picked him up from the vet a little bit later.  You can tell he’s frowning.  My frown is fake, but inside it wasn’t.  I told the vet tech that I just felt horrible.  She reminded me that I’ve never had a puppy before, and sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way.  She said that she had no hesitation sending him home with me because she and everyone else there knew that I would do right by him.

It turns out that Ubi doesn’t need his cone collar because he can get to the bandage anyway.  A friend at work had a good idea, which was to spray Bitter Apple on it.  Today I am having to slow Ubi down because he doesn’t appear to be in any pain, and he’s flying around my condo like nothing happened.  He has definitely learned how to use his peg leg, and it doesn’t deter him from playing.  It pains me to stop him and slow him down because I know he has a ton of energy and he just wants to play, but the more he puts weight on the peg leg, the longer it will take to heal.

So I’ve learned a big lesson, and as I finish this up with Ubi at my feet barking at me to play with him, all I can think about is that this could have been much worse.  Everyone tells me that he will heal quickly because he is a puppy.  I’m looking forward to the day when he gets the bandage off and is released from bondage.  In the meantime, I will consider this to be a character building exercise.  Not for Ubi, but for me.

New Beginnings

After my 52 lb mutt passed on Dec 09, 2015, I was very sad for several weeks.  Being single with no children, I found myself to be very lonely, with nothing to come home to.  I’ve always had this strong desire to take care of something, and when Jamaica died, a part of me died inside as well.

I knew I’d be getting another dog, but I thought I’d wait for a little while.  Taking care of Jamaica toward the end became expensive because of all of the medications she was on, and because of the many trips to the vet.  Plus, I was still getting out of bed, looking down to make sure I didn’t step on her as she would always sleep on blankets right next to my bed, every night.

So I thought I would save a little money, and although I missed her terribly, I figured I’d take advantage of the new freedom I had.  I no longer had to worry about how late I stayed at work.  I no longer had to worry about taking her for walks, even in the coldest or wettest weather.  I no longer had to worry about whether or not the dog walker was doing his job and taking her for the full, 20 minute walks she was supposed to be getting every day while I was at work.

But the result of all of this is that I wasn’t doing much of anything.  I would come home from work, sit in front of the TV for a few hours, and fall asleep on the couch watching TV.  I was sinking deeper and deeper into depression, but I was bound and determined not to get another dog until the Spring.

Needless to say, if you have looked at my pictures above, this is not the way things worked out.  For a long time before Jamaica died, I had been researching what type of dog I’d want next.  Don’t get me wrong.  Jamaica was a wonderful dog, but I took a big chance with her.  I got her from a no kill shelter and just assumed that love could conquer all.  For the most part, it did.  Jamaica was a loyal, loving pet.  But there were some traits about her that I knew I’d want to be different in any other dog that I chose to raise as a pet.

Instead of speaking negatively about Jamaica though, I’d rather just state what I was looking for, and which I could only get by getting a dog which was bred to have these traits.  I wanted a dog that didn’t shed.  I wanted a dog that was hypo-allergenic.  I wanted a smaller dog for which exercising in my condo, plus a couple of good walks a day would be enough.  I wanted a dog that would be friendly with other animals and friendly with people, especially people that were guests in my home.  I wanted a dog that was smart, easily trainable, and obedient.

After doing some research, and asking around, I came up with the Cavachon.  A Cavachon if you didn’t already know is a cross between a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and a Bichon Frise.  A true Cavachon is first generation only, and thus they are rare.  So once I decided on this breed, it was a challenge to find a reputable breeder.  After checking a few out, Lynne Kaiser of “Smooch My Pups” was highly recommended to me.  The problem was, she is up in Michigan, and I live in Northern Virginia.  This turned out not to be a problem.  Lynne sells Cavachons to remote buyers all the time.  She sent me several pictures, and I had one picked out pretty quickly because he was about the cutest thing I’d every seen.

Then Lynne sent me some videos of him playing, and I knew I had made the right choice.  I had already picked out his name before I’d even met him.  I am a Linux Systems Administrator, and Ubuntu is a Linux Operating System.  So that would be his name, Ubuntu.  I knew nobody would call him that, so I shortened it to Ubi (pronounced oobee).

On Tuesday, Jan 26, I picked Ubi up from the airport, and held him in my arms for the first time.  He and his carrier were both covered in poop and pee, so when I got him home I immediately gave him a bath.  The poor guy was so cold.  I dried him off and held his 3 lb body tightly against me wrapped in blankets until he stopped shaking.  He briefly fell asleep against my chest.

After he was dry, I let him down, and the fun began.  I had a ton of toys, hand me downs from Jamaica.  They were all bigger than Ubi.  He played with them anyway.  He ran around my condo like he had always lived here.  He was happy and having fun.

So after one week of playing, pooping on the floor, peeing on the floor, but doing both outside most of the time, learning fetch in 3 minutes, learning sit in 10 minutes, running around at dog playcare like he owns the place, following me around the house like I am his daddy and best friend, being friendly to house guests, and having an extra long vet appointment because the vet techs didn’t want to stop playing with him, all I can say is I’m exhausted.  Well, that’s not all.  I am so in love with this little guy, that I would do absolutely anything for him.

Ubi has brought joy back into my home.  Although some days I go to work with my eyes half open, it’s all worth it.  To watch him play, to hold him in my arms while I’m watching TV, as he falls asleep on my lap.  I can’t tell you the beauty of this.

I love you Ubi!


This is my first posting. I’m so excited. I realized this morning that a very few of my friends and family are not on Facebook, or are not my “friends” on Facebook. This is the perfect way to share what I am writing with everyone I know.

For my first post, I’d like to talk about kids. Sometimes I regret not having any, but then I realize that there’s probably a reason for that, and I may even be able to take a gander as to what that reason is.

When I wanted to have kids, I mean really wanted them, I wasn’t mature enough for them. It was all about me, and the women who I met, who would want a long term relationship probably noticed that, and would probably not want to commit to anything long term. I lacked the confidence they were looking for, and who could blame them for not wanting to be with a man who didn’t believe in himself.

I had to grow that confidence. I had to slowly build that maturity. I remember about 14 years ago when I killed a Chia Pet out of neglect and thought I was doomed to solitude for the rest of my life. But then a friend gave me a peace lily, a very hard to kill plant, and I watched it grow. I watered it, I gave it exactly the amount of sunlight it needed, and it grew. Not a great accomplishment considering the heartiness of this plant, but still, some confidence was born.

When I moved to my new home in Sterling, the peace lily died. I tried to keep it alive, but my new home just didn’t have enough light to sustain it. It was about that time that I rescued a dog. I had to! Her name was Jamaica, and her add said, “Woof mon! Bark mon! Take me home mon!”. So I did. I took her home. She is still with me today, 11 years old, happy, active, and for the most part healthy. Lately she has been having some balance problems, and a year ago her spleen needed to be removed on an emergency basis because it had filled with blood, and was about to rupture. But she doesn’t know that she isn’t as healthy as she used to be. She still has a light in her eyes when I pick her up from dog daycare, or when I come home after being out for a few hours. She still greets me, still wags her tail, and every once in a while, when, I’m taking her for a walk, she starts prancing, and turns to look up at me, and I swear she is smiling.


A few months ago, my neighbor dragged me to a nursery to by some plants. I decided to buy another peace lily, and some petunias for outside. Why? Well, I wanted to give the peace lily another try, because I thought I might have figured out why the last plant stopped growing and then died. The petunias seemed to required the correct light for what the outside of my home had to offer, but really I knew nothing about them. I asked the salesperson at the nursery what type of soil I should buy, how much water I should give them, and whether or not I should use fertilizer. She gave me all of the information, and I did exactly what she said to do. At first, they thrived. So much that I had to replant some of them in a second pot. But then they started to die, and I didn’t know what I was doing wrong. So again I asked for some help from some friends and family. They told me I needed to pluck off the dead flowers, and two more would grow in each flower’s place. So I started to do this, and here is the result.


The Peace Lily also thrived, so I decided to buy a second plant. A nerve plant is what it’s called. Also very hearty. It began to grow so quickly that I had to replant it in a bigger container within a week. Now it’s stretching the boundaries of that container, so it’s time to get a bigger one.


Then Seri the cat became a part of my life. Seri was my first cat, and I had no idea what I was doing. She disappeared for 3 days, and I wasn’t seeing anything in her litter box. I asked for help, and most people just said to relax and that she will be fine, but when I find her to confine her to a room until she get’s comfortable with the dog and with me. She did turn up, and I did what I was told, and now I have a happy cat.


After about 2 weeks, I decided Seri needed a playmate. So Bene the kitten entered our lives. I didn’t make the same mistakes I made before. I did what people told me to do. I didn’t worry that the cats were hissing at each other, or that Bene was terrified of the dog. Jamaica was showing no aggression towards either cat, so I simply kept introducing her slowly to Bene, and I would slowly let the cats spend time together in my bedroom unsupervised since they weren’t killing each other.


Then one day I walked into the room after leaving them alone for a couple of hours to find them rolling around on the bed like they were one big fur ball. They chased each other around the room, jumped on each other; they were playing! I brought the dog in, and although Bene was obviously still scared, he was also batting at the dogs tail and chasing her around. Now if he finishes eating before Jamaica does, he will go down and sit next to her, and growl at her to try to get more food. All 2 pounds of him growling at my 45 pound dog.



Then I found out the Peace Lily was toxic to cats. My neighbor took it off my hands and I purchased an Ardie, which is perfectly safe.


I started thinking about why people have kids. Of course some of it is to make sure the human race continues forward, or to carry on the traditions or customs of the family, or the family name. But for me it would mostly be about being able to take care of something. It would be about making mistakes and learning from them. It would be about watching them grow, and thrive, be happy. It would be about knowing that I had something to do with that happiness.

So I guess I do have kids. They just aren’t human, but in a way, they will teach me and have taught me and offered me even more. In the case of Jamaica, I’ve become so much stronger, being able to nurture her through her struggles and illness. When it’s finally her time, and I truly hope that isn’t any time soon, I will know that she lived a happy, fulfilling life, and not because I did everything right, but because I did the best I could possibly do for her and loved her so much. I plan to do this with all of my kids, whether or not I ever have human ones, and at least for me, that is what being a parent is all about.

By the way, just in case you haven’t noticed it, there’s a lot of metaphor here. Possibly the biggest lesson I’ve learned here is that nothing grows in the dark, including me. When I first moved to Sterling, I isolated a lot. I got the dog, and that got me outside, but at home, I was deeply depressed and lonely. The Peace Lily died, and I couldn’t figure out why. After being here a little while though, I started to become more active. I got to know my neighbors, I would speak to them outside when we would be taking our dogs for walks, and I began to feel comfortable in my new home. So if you haven’t guessed it yet, I did one, very simple thing that allowed the plants which are currently in my home to survive. It took me about 7 1/2 years to figure this out, and finally decide to get more plants. What did I do? I pulled back the curtains, I opened the blinds, I let in the sunlight.

Nothing grows in isolation. We all need to love and to be loved. We teach each other, we learn from each other, and together we thrive. Today I have a zoo in my home, but I occasionally call it my family. I let the outside world into my home, and in turn I explore it. Today I have grown up just a little bit, and there is nothing I can’t do.