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Archive for the ‘Pets’ Category

We have this patch of river stones in the garden. After watching Lili take a shortcut across them, only to slip and fall on her bum for the umpteenth time I decided to make her some pet rocks. Hopefully she’ll ignore the garden ones now 😉

Tutorial

A quick tutorial on how to make your own pet rock

You will need:

  • smooth river stones/pebbles
  • craft paints
  • sealer, like modge podge {It goes by many names – Love this site for ideas}
  • cartoon bubble eyes
  • craft glue that dries clear {or a hot glue gun}

Get some smooth river stones

I chose 3 smooth differently shaped stones with relatively flat surfaces: An obvious face side. Give them a good scrub in warm soapy water and leave to dry.

White primer

Paint the rocks with a basecoat – I used white.

All the pretty colours

Then paint them in whatever colours you like. I used the same colours Lili’s door letters.

It gets messy

I used a few coats of modge podge to seal the rocks; lightly sanding between coats and painting every coat in a different direction

I see you!

Finally glue eyes onto the stones and allow to dry completely – I left them overnight. Now you have pet rocks!

!! Pet Rocks !!

Link Parties!

Get your craft on Thurs. PonyTails and FishScales Photobucket

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Surprise Surprise, I have a guest blogger for you today. I begged and begged and then I copied and pasted an email  she gave in. Tracy’s Topics presents to you the mother of a gorgeous little future son in law boy, always entertaining over a cup of fake-arula, more exciting than 7de Laan: my friend Supachick!! {we met on the interwebz and neither of us is a psycho killer… maybe}

Picture the scene… 

I pop home for lunch (since work and home are around the corner I can now do that!).  I’m sitting in the lounge watching TV and Leo (the FAS cat) keeps “digging” under the couch cushions.  So I recon there’s a moth or something that’s flown in that he’s trying to get to, and move the cushions.  Don’t see anything.  Put his (more) odd (than usual) behavior down to sniffing the deo can fumes that I had sprayed earlier and carry on watching TV.

 Next thing I see is a mole marching along the top on the couch and Leo head diving into the coffee table whilst trying to get to it.

 So…. That was the end of my quiet lunch in front of the telly.  Leo got exiled and I attempted to rescue the poor creature (the mole not the cat!).  Of cause, I know from past experience that they bite f@##$%#$ sore (don’t ask) so don’t actually wanna touch the thing.

I didn’t reach my goal in the end, closed all the windows and will re attempt this act before going to collect the other creature from school. 

Now, stop laughing, clean the tea off the PC Screen and get back up off the floor.  What did YOU do in your (non lunch time) lunch break?

” 

Update later the day via text sms email:  

“after slaving at my desk for a further 2 hours, panic stricken over the life of the poor mole, I rush home to continue the rescue mission.  After searching high (well as high as I can get on my less than 1 full meter legs!) and low for said mole, I was about to give up the search when I thought he might be behind the fridge.  On the way to the fridge (still on hands and knees) I see the object of my desire…. My Rescue mission has just turned in to a recovery mission 😦 

Sadly Mr (I have no idea of the actual gender, nor do I have any over whelming desire to find out) Mole passed away sometime in the afternoon – cause of death?  Drowning via cats water bowl.”

And THAT Alanis, is IRONIC.

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Resident Cat

This is TB (or Tazz, or kitsie), our new resident cat. Two days ago some kids brought him (we hope it’s male – three of us inspected and ventured an uneducated guess – I’ve only ever owned female cats) to my colleague’s flat and left him in the parking lot. One the way to work my colleague heard a funny noise coming from the engine. Turns out the cat had climbed up from under the car for a night snooze.

At work, short-arm-me delved around under the bonnet and untangled little TB from the depths or the Toyota Tazz. Always resourceful (I swear we can serve 3 course meals for 3 days on our lab’s kitchen content) we fed him some runny Pronutro and weak watery milk. Poor thing was famished and wolfed it all down. Now we needed to find him a home. Phoned around a bit and the local DBV said (in so many words) that if they took him in, they would have him put out (read killed). I phoned around a bit more.

X-ray neighbour lady across the road said that she’s been thinking of getting another cat since hers had passed away. Only catch is that she can’t have it at work until 5pm, would we mind minding it. Just as I assured her that we’ll keep him until home-time, TB made a bee-line for the hospital courtyard (Our lab is on the same premises), and of course the yard is fenced off – by 5 metre high fences – 2 of them.

TB the kitten didn’t come back when he got hungry; we left him some food and water out at the same spot we originally fed him. This morning still no TB. X-ray lady’s husband was more upset about losing their new per than his wife – felt really bad that I let him slip through.

The new hospital doctor called around teatime asking if we wanted a cat. Ecstatic, my colleague relayed the story and asked her to bring the kitten over. Turns out one of the patients had the kitten and promptly handed it over to the doctor while she was doing rounds. Trying to find it a home, she had some adventures of her own including ice-cream bowl full of cat pellets strewn on the floor and 2 lacerated thumbs, one belonging to the office’s occupant – TB was very hungry. 2 tetanus shots later, and the cat was back at the lab, this time inside the lab. Pesky was trying to sneak in so much anyway.

At the moment he’s content playing with toes and chasing after timer strings. His new owner will fetch him this afternoon: Now to avoid anyone stepping on him, getting stuck behind the incubator or growing an extra tail.

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Mollie has 5 Puppies!

Never got round to updating on Mollie’s mommy status: She eventually had 5 puppies. Not one died. And we’re still debating paternity.
There are 3 dogs and 2 bitches. One pup looks like Mollie; white with brown spots. 2 are white with brown/black ears; and 2 look like Klonkie, the Fox Terrier/Jack Russel cross on the farm (Meulsteenberg) – white with black spots. We’re keeping one of the black dogs. I just have to have Mollie fixed as soon as she’s weaned them.

Here are some pics.

click for more pics

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Mollie has Puppies!

When allowed in the house, Mollie follows me around like a shadow. Not last night though. She settled onto the couch and just stared at me while I prepared dinner – Henk’s been working late nowadays. I tried to work out her due date, and it was supposed to be last week Thursday’ish, so now I’m wary of any labour signs in her.
She moaned a bit and her breathing was quite rapid, so I got her bed and blanky from outside and put her in bed on the floor. When Henk came home, she didn’t even budge. THAT’s when I knew – dis nou sulke tyd.

Henk put her outside in the courtyard (where she always sleeps at night) so that at least she’s in a familiar environment.
I heard her whine and cry a bit while I got ready for bed, but nothing was out of the ordinary. I woke at 1am to some funny scratching coming from outside. It sounded like Mollie was scratching a cardboard box – perhaps even trying to dig into it. At 2am I woke again to the same noise, ditto 3am, ditto 4am. Just after 5, when Henk got up, Mollie rushed in and greeted me, but her babies were still safe in her tummy.
6:15 my alarm goes off and I hear meep, meep, meep coming from outside. Puppies!!
There was only one puppy and I could at least tell who its daddy is. There were 2 possible daddy candidates, and it looks like the fox terrier won 😉
Then I noticed what al the commotion was during the night. Mollie was nesting… just like us humans. She had shredded a cardboard box and placed the scraps around her bed. Also next to her bed was Rammie, her sheep soft toy; and inside her bed was her pink squeaker and purple chew toy; All her favourite things. It was too cute for words. It’s like she was getting her bed ready for the new pups with toys that she played with since SHE was a puppy.
By the time I left for work there were already 3 puppies. Can’t wait to get home and see the rest.

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Ai, die Mollie darem. Dis nou ons ‘waghond’. Sy’s ‘n kort-been Jack Russel; ten minste, dis nou wat die teler gesê het. Veearts het gelag toe hy dit hoor.

Nouja, uit die bloute daag Rickus (Henk se neef ) en sy Ma op. Hy kom haal die elf kuikens wat hy vir ons moet groot maak. Die vorige lot het almal aan natuurlike oorsake omgekom; albeit ‘n uil, kraai, katte of Mollie. Van die nuwe spulletjie is daar net ses oor.
Vir ‘n slag werk die noodlot in my guns en het Haandrik-haan en kuikens solank by die stoep ingekom terwyl ek troon toe is. Maak nie saak waarvandaan ek kom nie; of ek gou by bure ingeloer het of twee ure op die pad was nie, as ek by die huis kom, roep natuur my.
Intussen klop neef aan en vra oor kuikens. Gryp toe sommer my ou draadloos se karton doos en prop kuikens in. Ons tel net vier. Waar is die ander twee heen… seker opgevreet deur ‘n ongedierte.

Ek sit solank bietjie boeretroos aan, plak die boks toe en maak lug gate. Hier hoor ek tjiep, tjiep-tjiep. Roep Rickus om kuiken te vang, maar Mollie wen. Sy was eerste daar toe sneuwel ‘n kiepie. Vet pakslae later hoor ek wéér tjiep-tjiep . Híérdie keer kry Rickus die kuiken gevang – boks toe.

Nou sit ounooi se honne by die hek en salk met bewysstuk A gevlek op haar poot – hoender bloed. Sies; stout hond.

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