Tales from the Bark Side

By Keith Ross | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, June 30, 2007

Welcome back to the bark side of life here in Ottertail where the west winds blow in waves across a seemingly endless field of corn … corn so green that everything you thought was green pales in comparison. They say “knee high by the Fourth of July” pretty much guarantees a good crop. With all the rain we've had, the crop is way ahead of schedule this year.

I received an e-mail admonishing me for writing the story about the pit bull and the poor cat he chased through an open window. Seems it wasn't their favorite tale, and though it wasn't so much about the dog and cat, as it was about a colorful Australian, I understand their uneasiness about the tale.

Some of my tales are sad because they are about “real life” experiences … the same is true about my humorous ones as well. I was told that they were looking forward to more good stories.

I'm a compassionate person (I cried like a baby when Frits died) and I can truly emphasize with animal lovers in their great love for all animals but I write from the bark side of life. Here on the bark side of life, life plays out as it does in nature, the ebb and flow of life comes and goes and sometimes things wash up upon your shore that you have to deal with emotionally.

Stillborn puppies can tear your heart out. A friend's 14-year-old chocolate lab needs to be put down and you hear the pain in the voice over the phone. Life is a mosaic comprised of broken pieces that when put together in a loving and positive way, can be something very beautiful indeed.

Now, a tale from the animal lover herself, Geri Hammer of Ashby.

A tale of little Furby and six crabby cats

In the Care 2000 office where I work, having a nurse ask for help for someone in need is an everyday occurrence. After all that's what we do there.

However, it was surprising when I heard what kind of help this particular nurse asked for as she looked right at me. My reputation as an animal lover follows me everywhere I go. I can't get away from it. Actually I really don't want to so I got up from my desk and followed her out the door.

She led me just a short ways over to the Bank of the West next door to our office in downtown Fergus Falls. There I saw a group of ladies from the bank hovering over a tiny creature shivering on the ledge outside of the bank building.

The baby bunny was obviously in dire need of help and the bank ladies seemed to think I was it. What could I do? I had my reputation to uphold. I merely asked and they did not waste any time producing a box and without any ceremony at all, I acquired a new family member.

One stop on the way to our home outside of Ashby and I had the necessities ... a cage, kitten formula, pet nursers and some new eye droppers just in case.

This rabbit was very young and I wasn't sure how I'd get nourishment into it. A home for the little guy was easy. The end of an oatmeal box, a plastic bowl that had held potato salad with a door and windows cut out, some nice fresh pine shavings and the cage was comfortably furnished. Feeding was a little more of a problem. Pet nursers were rejected but eye droppers worked fine and we settled into two feedings of formula a day, plus grated carrots, alfalfa, clover, plum and apple tree branches to chew on after a week or so.

Little Furby was selected as a name after my husband, David and I conferred. We considered and rejected ATM, Bank Rate and Westy first.

Our wiener dog, Boomer, loved his new companion immediately. Rocky, the big black lab was too busy with dog business to even notice Furby.

The story was entirely different with our six cats. They detested this interloper into their kingdom and there was no chance of the situation changing.

That's because they were all banished from the house for the duration. Not that they've got it too tough outside as they all spend a lot of their time there by choice every day anyway. And there is a nice comfy couch for lounging in the nearby shed.

But to be locked out just because a furry little morsel that would make a delicious lunch was living the life of Riley in their home was unthinkable and they just sat on the back steps all day and pouted.

We'll be returning Furby to the wild as soon as the little white spot on his head disappears, just as the mother rabbit would do. David and I will miss him. Six crabby cats will not.

Another tale, another week, another happy baby bunny somewhere hopping along … see, life is full of tales, sad and happy. Send yours to info@rosswoodkennels.com pr Keith Ross, Richville, MN or phone me at 218-495-2195. Until Next Time.

Keith Alan Ross writes from his New York Mills home.