Of Mice and Men

Our two dogs, Jasmin and Shiloh were rescued as puppies from the Turks & Caicos Islands, and brought to Ontario in the middle of February a few years ago. To hear their story, they claim dognapping from their warm island home and inhumane and unjust punishment being put out to pee in the subzero arctic tundra of Canada.

They are brother and sister, him and her, and are wonderful dogs, getting into no trouble in house, but finding plenty of fun outside in the fields. Their claim to fame is him acting as sous-chef by jumping on and rolling into the ground any dead, smelly or decaying carcass found within the borders of our farm, and her, as grand gourmand, snarfelling it up as quickly as she can only to have it brought up later on the nicest section of area rug in front of the fire, preferably while we are entertaining guests. The dead of winter gives a bit of reprieve from thawing carcasses, however, and unwanted wildlife that would be compelling to two young dogs, such as skunks and porcupines.

The day Shiloh came home with quills stuck in his nose, Jasmin was right behind him like any annoying little tattle-tale sister pointing a finger and distinct expression as if to say "Look what he's done now mom". I was home with just the kids and was a little panicked at first, but seeing his biggest concern was not being able to stick his nose in his food bowl comfortably because of the quills, my quick mental processes started to kick in. "Jack!", I called from the kitchen to my son sitting in his usual place in front of the computer, "Google how to get porcupine quills out of the dog's nose". Jack, who since turning fourteen, seems generally about 5 heartbeats away from a coma, but instead of getting the normal grunt, "huh?", came through with a great article complete with photos of how to get these things out. "Mom, this is so gross", he replied. I was almost sick at the photo of a poor dog with about 100 quills stuck all over his face and mouth, but thankfully Shiloh only had a measly 7 or 8. I got the scissors and pliers and set to work. Six hours later they were all out but one. After he realized how much the first one hurt being plucked out, the rest of the time was spent distracting him by playing ball and giving treats and taking aim with the pliers to get each one. Tackling him and wrapping him in a blanket didn't work one bit, and the last quill was saved for my husband to pull out when he got home. Why should we get all the fun?!

In spring or fall while driving into town, I'll often see skunks and porcupines dead on the road. Instead of thinking all this time that they were poor unfortunable accident victims, I know the truth now...they were done in by dog owners like me!