All About Animals

This is, of course, what this blog is all about (with the exception of my cameo appearances once in a while).

It is also the name of a wonderful group of animal lovers at the popular Goodreads website—visit us there. We’d like to invite you to become a member; it’s free, it’s fun, and it’s informative. Besides, you’ll meet the nicest people, all of whom are passionate readers (as the writers there are as well).

http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/74638-all-about-animals

Some of the group’s members are graciously furnishing me with pictures and stories about the animals in their lives, in their care, and in their hearts. Not all of those animals are lap-sitting or snoozing pampered pets inside their homes. Some work, sprint, race and even carry the owners for their daily portion of affection. They are doing it proudly, giving it their best.

Here are pictures furnished by Mary-Anne as she rides her horse Delta O Lena Lady better known as Lucky in a mock-up train robbery. It’s something they do in Canada—must be comforting not having to deal with the real thing!

In the following two pictures, Mary-Anne and her stallion Smokes Remedy give it their all barrel racing. You really have to be firm in the saddle to do this sort of thing.

Simply amazing!

Mary-Anne has a lot of other pets, I understand--and here are two of them.

Hansel and Gretel

Hansel wonders what might be around that corner,

while Gretel enjoys a romp in fresh snow.

JUST JOINED THIS BLOG HOP

Celebrating to have overcome as yet another technical hurdle --

JOINING THIS BLOG - and making it work!

My friend and co-author Diana Wilder made me spill my coffee all over my screen with her last entry! So I decided to come back with a vengence and add some of my own animal stories. Hope this works....(I don't mean for someone else to spill their cup!)

I am Inge H. Borg, another scribbler among the multitudes. Like many of us, I started out by putting my dreams and hopes into poems (oh well). Then I sat down to some 'serious' historical fiction about Ancient Egypt and managed to follow that with a present-day thriller. Add to these books stories about a charming conman, and you've got something for every taste.
Read more about them at my other blog:
http://devilwinds.blogspot.com/

or go to my author page:

http://www.amazon.com/Inge-H.-Borg/e/B006QYQKUS

Lastly, I looked at my cat (he, too, is charming--a little con in his own right), and my first non-fiction book took shape.

Fair warning: More novels are in the making--although it will take a while for them to translate from head to paper/screen.

Glad to be here and read all these great stories.
(Just click on the PAGE and find everyone who is participating in this hop)

Little Ladies

The two little kittens were found in someone's garage where the mama-cat must have sought refuge from the cold. She had stashed first one there and after two days, the second appeared. Mama, however, was never sighted again. They were about six days old when I was called upon to raise them. Pasha and I went to work.

As they grew, I realized that they started to look like perfect miniature cats--they never had that round kitten-look about them. From the get-go, they were also perfectly behaved and I never had to send Pasha around to hunt for one or the other hiding somewhere.

Bandy and Sophie - The Little Ladies

It was hard to give those up, too. But eventually, I had to return them to the shelter for them to have a chance to get adopted. Another lucky home welcomed them into their family. Best of all, they were able to stay together.

Never Give Up!

Foster Kitten Puffin

Modified excerpt from Inge H. Borg’s Book: Pasha, From Animal Shelter to A Sheltered Life

*

The lifeless gray featherweight that shelter personnel placed into the palm of my hand looked more like a dead mole than the kitten they insisted it was. With eyes firmly shut, ears still located flat against the back of the head, it could not have been more than ten days old. I quickly took mental inventory of my pantry and, remembering that I still had a can of goat milk from previous fosters, bundled its little body into a large washcloth to take it home where I placed it into my cat carrier lined with heating cushion and padded with soft towels. The name Puffin popped into my head for the chilled little gray lump I had just added to my clan.

The next few days were as painful for me as, I am sure, they were for the lethargic little animal. The only two things not lax about that kitten were its gums which it clamped firmly shut every time I tried to drip warm milk into its mouth; with its most unclenched part being its sphincter. It functioned the opposite way from the gums. The result was increasing and worrisome dehydration.

I simply could not bear to see this tiny kitten suffer any more days. With a permission slip from the shelter, I drove it over to the nearby vet to be released from its miserable young existence before it had to endure more pain.

“Well, little fella,” the vet said after he had established that he was dealing with a male. Completely ignoring what I had made that specific appointment for, he sunk a small syringe into a can and suctioned bits of soft kitten food into it. Then he pumped minute amounts carefully into the tiny mouth. Sure enough, the little tom swallowed a little, and a little more.

“He’ll be just fine.” The vet handed me the kitten and the can. “Mash a little of this into his bottle.”

I slunk out of the office, embarrassed and chastened by my lack of faith. My euphoria did not last long and after another week of the same struggle, I discussed the problem with the shelter manager and begged him for another permission slip. I planned to take the kitten to a second vet. Except on that morning, the busy doc had left due to some emergency on a farm. I would have to wait until Monday. Meantime, the kitten seemed to grow even smaller and weaker. I stroked and cradled him most of the weekend, and tried for him to take some nourishment.

First thing that following Monday, I drove down the winding hill much slower than I usually do. After examining the little form, he prescribed what I would henceforth call his ‘miracle elixir,’ as it brought relief and restored health to many sickly shelter kittens.

I kept that infamous permission slip buried in my glove compartment for a long time as a reminder that there is always hope—and a good vet. I still shudder when I think of how close I came to having that little life snuffed out.

Puffin not only turned into a lively kitten, but he is today a gorgeous and most interesting cat. I have seen natural sheared mink only once. His coat looks exactly like that. It is a dense dark gray with a brown shimmer in a certain light. With a head that stayed small, an almost angular face, his golden eyes, and a tail ‘that never sleeps,’ he reminds me of a lemur. I like lemurs. I loved Puffin—I still do.

Today, his name is Smokey; and he visits often when his mama travels out of town. He and Pasha are still the best of buddies.

 

He was tiny Puffin then ...          

... He is intriguing Smokey now--posing with another of my passions: Ancient Egyptian Fiction

(Don't you just love those ears?)

Read more about Pasha and his shelter buddies at the following

author profile pages for Inge H. Borg:

http://www.amazon.com/Inge-H.-Borg/e/B006QYQKUS – Amazon

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/505050 -  Smashwords

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/inge-h.-borg - Barnes & Noble



Romancing the Dog

My new friend and another animal-lover, Marion Zola, shared this delightful story with me:

 

"I recently found a letter from my dog Chips to his fans, meant as an intro to

my Amazon best-selling book Romancing the Dog. 

 

The letter reads:

“First, let me say hello to all of my fans.  I was asked to contribute to this book quite some time ago.   While I love the concept, I simply do not have the time to commit to such a project.  As many of you know, I split my time between Beverly Hills and Carmel.  Everything I do is in high style, whether it’s flying first class, eating  gourmet meals, or being walked shadowed by both a stroller and a European sedan.  So many dogs have asked, ‘Chips, how do you do it?  How do you maintain such a high standard of living?’

Well, reader, allow me to share my secret.  Unbeknownst to most, I retain a full time staff of two.  They are a live-in couple whose lives are devoted to my care and upkeep.  There is no end to the ways in which they are indispensable, serving as cook, chauffeur, housekeeper, fitness trainer and personal assistant.  I’m hoping that one of them will get a pilot’s license soon so that I can stop flying commercial.  You know how it it. 

The craziest part of the arrangement?  I don’t even pay them.  In fact, one of them works as a writer, while the other serves on corporate boards just to that they can maintain the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed.  A few licks, a few tail wags and they’re happy.  I love them, but you know what they say about humans — ‘devoted, lovable, but not too bright.’   Well, I’m off to the beach.  Remember my motto — ‘The best is barely good enough.’ “

                             

       Chips

Surely you want to know more; I am glad Marion shared this with me.
Just go to:

http://www.amazon.com/Romancing-Dog-Struggle-Beverly-ebook/dp/B0094A14LG/

How can you resist a face like that?  

You can look at him--and you can read about him--but you can't have him, I am certain of that.