Tallahassee’s Guyte McCord Park is naturally scented in an ecologically minded neighborhood. Cooper’s attention to scent often attracts humans and canines. Frequent conversations are common for both species and to the point.

“I own his twin. His name is Grant,” a woman says to us. Although her Grant is “pure” beagle, the woman is impressed with Cooper, mix that he is.

Sensing he is center stage, Cooper offers up a harping “honk,” followed with a softer version of reverse sneezing. It rarely fails to elicit a sympathetic response but there’s always a first time.

“Yup, just like Grant. Look!” She pulls out her cell phone, as if it is a practiced move, and instantly accesses a minutes-long video of Grant chasing a toy ball filled with kibble, honking and sneezing. The resemblance to Cooper is uncanny, right down to the white ring on Grant’s tail.

“Grant aspires to be a goat.” Her sigh is audible. If it’s chewable–or even when it’s not—Grant’s system manages to work it out, one end or the other. Now, the resemblance is complete.

Snoop is Cooper’s original name, changed in the faint hope that he would forego his foraging ways. Cooper stashes chews or toys—for some future somewhere—for all the rest, he relies on Pepcid.

Merry Christmas to all of our friends and family. Thank you for helping us to give second chances all year round.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there

The children were nestled all snug in their beds
With no thought of the dog filling their head

And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap
Knew he was cold, but didn’t care about that

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter

Away to the window I flew like a flash
Figuring the dog was free of his chain and into the trash

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But Santa Claus – with eyes full of tears

He un-chained the dog, once so lively and quick
Last year’s Christmas present, now painfully thin and sick

More rapid than eagles he called the dog’s name
And the dog ran to him, despite all his pain

“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Let’s find this dog a home where he’ll be loved by all.”

I knew in an instant there would be no gifts this year
For Santa Claus had made one thing quite clear

The gift of a dog is not just for the season
We had gotten the pup for all the wrong reasons

In our haste to think of the kids a gift
There was one important thing that we missed

A dog should be family, and cared for the same
You don’t give a gift, then put it on a chain

And I heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight
“You weren’t given a gift! You were given a LIFE!”

- Author Unknown

As a grey-blue dilute cat of a certain age, EmmaRose weighs 5.5 pounds, and she knows her mind. Daily, she grooms Cooper James, whether he thinks he needs it or not. Most of the time he thinks not but Emma grooms him anyway. They’re growing old together, and she watches out for him.

EmmaRose does not care for travel by car but she thrills to midair flights in pursuit of stuffed blue mice or skillful stalks of the outside world behind a picture window. She prefers her possibilities endless.

During this holiday season, she discovered pine cones; every morning offers a new cone arrangement.  Tented holiday cards provide a paw hide-and-seek scenario for the wee morning hours, although EmmaRose has never lacked for midnight hour amusement.

If EmmaRose has her way, the pine cones will stay for wonder, love, joy are always in season.

So how do we keep track of all these different medications, dosing regimens, medicating techniques, etc? Well …. each week we pre-fill all of our pill sorters with everyone’s meds for that upcoming week. We actually mostly utilize recycled, styrofoam egg cartons, labeled with each animal’s name, noted with AM & PM, and day of the week. We have a tray for each day of the week, each animal has their own little “bin” within each tray and everything is labeled to avoid mistakes in medicating each individual. The trays are stacked … Monday through Friday … and stored in tupperware containers for the week. Then, at each feeding, the appropriate medications are found conveniently in each labeled tray and Pill Pockets assist greatly in making the medicating process go smoothly.

Our most commonly used medications include: antibiotics, carprofen (an anti-inflammatory for arthritis), tramadol (a pain medication for advanced arthritis), thyroid medications, anti-nausea medications, and ear medications. We are fortunate in that many people donate medications to SCF after their pets no longer need them or pass away. We are always in a position to accept properly stored and fully labeled medications. If you are interested in donating please contact us as your support is truly appreciated.

This picture shows 1 week’s worth of medications prepared for all of our residents!

Farm Tails Oct 2011

Chief came to us aged (we estimated him to be ~ 12 years old) and he did have some significant age and breed related medical conditions right off the bat. We managed him with diet and medications and Chief continued to be a big, goofy, care-free guy for many months! When he started having significant trouble getting up and getting around and when incontinence became a concern; particularly with his limited mobility … we started talking about what was the best next step for him. After numerous conversations and a lot of thought … we decided that it was important to let Chief pass with dignity and respect; before he became miserable from all of his ailments. Chief likely also had a tumor on his spleen (a ticking time bomb – literally!) and had started to develop some pressure sores from being unable to get up at times. He had neurological deficits in both rear legs and required daily steroids to keep him somewhat mobile. Even though Chief didn’t seem to grasp the severity of his situation (he continued to be a goof!) we knew that times would only get worse for him and we made the difficult decision to help him pass before all of his concerns truly caught up with him. Chief was able to be at home when he passed and we prepared him a HUGE breakfast / brunch with all sorts of goodies! He had cheese, sausage, peanut butter, bagels, turkey & stuffing, and a variety of other tasty tidbits (all while his fellow dog and cat friends looked on with wonder!). We then helped Chief to lay down and while his already stuffed belly got even more full from a scrumptious bowl of canned food … Chief slowly became drowsy and drifted off to sleep … all while his “mom” talked to him and reassured him that everyone was fine.

Chief had a fantastic retirement and we owe it all to his devoted foster mom! Perhaps equally as important, Chief passed with dignity and respect and knew without a doubt that he was loved and that he had a family of his own. We extend our most sincere appreciation to Casey, for opening up her heart to this special dog who needed a second chance. The “baggage” that comes along with being a permanent foster mom is heavy at times … but her selflessness and willingness to put her heart on the line was so very impressive. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Our sympathies are with you as Chief will most certainly be missed in your home.

Chief now rests permanently here at the farm; alongside some of our other noble shepherds who have passed on before him. Rest in peace handsome man! We’re so glad that you had a wonderful retirement!