Not long after I’d given up on every seeing Furball again, he came home. He was so thin you could see his spine; his fur was ratty, and he was weak. I picked him up and took him in the house. Jazzy was so happy to see him that she wouldn’t leave him alone. I opened a can of food and gave him a little at a time. He would have devoured several cans if I would have let him.
Much to his dismay, Furball was forced to stay inside to rest and recover. I knew he needed to go to the vet, but in his fragile condition I didn’t think he could handle it. He was fed canned food numerous times a day and had limited access to dry. Since he hadn’t eaten in so long, I didn’t want him to over eat. After several days of inside recovery, food and a few good brushings, he started to look better. It was time for the vet.
He was thoroughly examined and had bloodwork done. Other than being full of worms, he was in surprisingly good condition. The vet gave him wormer and sent me home with another dose for him and one for Jazzy as a precaution.
Furball continued to get stronger and act more like himself. He was demanding to go out (which he wasn’t) and being a problem child because he wasn’t getting his way. A few days after his vet trip, Furball was to be given his 2nddose of wormer. It didn’t take long for him to start vomiting and having diarrhea. He was in pain. Dead worms were coming out of both ends. Dead tapeworms were being expelled in large numbers. I called the vet and Greg rushed him down. The tapeworms were so bad they were eating holes in his insides and there was nothing that could be done.
Our Furball was buried on the hill in one of his favorite sitting spots, overlooking the house.
It didn’t take Furball long to develop a new routine at our new home. As he got used to the area, he was spending more and more time outside. He’d lay around on the front porch or in the back yard. I put a dry food dispenser and water on the front porch, so he’d have it on the days he didn’t want to come in. It also didn’t take him long to bring his girlfriend home and show her where to find food. She was a tiny black and white feral cat we named Bandit. She’d take all of the food she could eat and hiss at the “providers” when we went outside.
Late in the spring I noticed Bandit and Furball on the porch with 2 additions. They brought their kittens home. A grey tiger and a black and white. They were as wild as their mother and weren’t going to be tamed. The family was there every day. The kittens would play, and everybody would hang out in the shade where it was cool. Furball was a good dad. He played with the kittens and made sure they didn’t wander close to the road.
Furball suddenly stopped coming home. He didn’t always come in the house, but I saw him every day. The kittens were weaned and came to the porch for food on their own. I saw them a few times a day, but no Furball or Bandit. I was going outside several times a day with a food container to shake. I’d call his name, whistle and no Furball. I searched the woods behind the house and couldn’t find him. I did the same routine for several weeks and still no Furball. I was beside myself, but there was nothing more I could do. I assumed we’d never see him again.
My love of ducks, nature and wildlife combined with my new camera have had me hitting the woods and waterways as much as possible. Rugged trails and precarious situations have resulted in beautiful photos.
I hope you enjoy seeing them as much as I’ve enjoyed taking them. Visit our gallery.
Raisin spent 3 days in the hospital. Dr Geoff didn’t think he was going to make it and stayed with him for 2 nights. He was amazed the dog pulled thru. He said Raisin was a fighter and has a strong will to live.
I took the little guy home knowing he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Several weeks of meds that affected his appetite combined with begging and pleading with him to eat. There were times he was so weak he could barely stand so I started feeding him anything he’d eat. Lunch meat, hot dogs, burgers. The vet gave me hell for what I was feeding him because it could have killed him. It wasn’t a choice. Either feed him what he’d eat, or he’d starve to death. It took Raisin about a month to make a full recovery. This was the start of Raisin’s medical issues. The cough he had was actually chronic bronchitis. Once he was fully recovered, he was put on meds to help control it.
Life was back to normal for Raisin. Sunning himself on the back deck while I was working and cuddling up with us after dinner. Saturday morning was doggie playground and time with friends. I think he liked vising the people more than playing with the other dogs. Raisin loved car rides so we took him everywhere we could. The once scared little dog was now disappointed if a person passed him and didn’t pet him!
By the end of that summer we couldn’t stand being in that house any longer. The neighbors were horrible. Kids running in front of the house screaming at each other at all hours of the day and night, constant traffic in the shared driveway, police next door several times a week. It was time to move. We found a place in the quiet town of Oley. It was a nice neighborhood and I didn’t have to worry about being outside by myself or having the doors locked during the day when I was home alone. Raisin had a bigger yard and the one neighbor said we could take him in the back field. He wasn’t thrilled about having to be on a leash, but until we got the money for a fence, on a leash he was.
LPS Ranch is more than just critters. It’s who and what we are. The name started out as a little joke when we moved to the farm in Salford. The farm needed a name and it was full of little peckerhead sh**s (Greg’s collective name for ornery critters). From a pup that was always into something, a kitten that wasn’t any better, an older cat, a mischievous young horse and an older horse that got herself into a good deal of things. LPS Ranch was born. For whatever reason it stuck over the years.
I consider myself very blessed to be living a life I love. I live in a beautiful place with the love of my life, surrounded by cornfields and nature, where God paints exquisite sunsets almost every night. We don’t live in a fancy house. In fact, we don’t live in a house. We live in a 37′ RV parked on my Mom’s farmette with Daisy our Beagle and the cats Harlie, Indy and Mouse. At 90 this place is too much for Mom to care for. Although she still drives her old Jeep to the grocery store and lunch with her friends 3 days a week, she needs help with things around here.
It’s been many years since I’ve spent a good amount of time here and I’d forgotten just how beautiful the area is. We’ve watched fawns grow up in the pasture where my pony used to live, saw the rabbit family teach their young where the bird seed is and so much more. A walk across 2 corn fields and across a street gives us about 3,000 acres to hike with Daisy.
For the last year and a half I’ve been taking pictures with my phone. I’ve gotten some beautiful shots, but it wasn’t quite enough. This past Christmas I got a real camera. My love of waterfowl, wildlife and nature keep me out with the camera quite often. Some of the photos were too beautiful to keep to ourselves so I’ve decided to share them at https://lpsranch.smugmug.com
I hope you enjoy seeing them as much as I enjoy taking them.