The “dog shaming” pictures you find on the internet are hilarious. Here are some of my favorites.

We have three animals that we acquired within a month of my return from life in Mexico. First was a much neglected Yorkie that had been a “breeder” in his former life. Apparently, teeth problems are common in “breeders.” I could not find an answer as to why, but Joshie was typical – his mouth was filled with infections and abscesses. The vet techs said it was not uncommon for breeders to be completely toothless. You could not tell by looking at him that he was suffering, but after we got it taken care of, he turned from an old dog into a puppy. Since no one knew his age, we had assumed that we had become the owners of a dog in the last part of his life cycle. Now, he’s definitely got a few more good years, though we still have no clue how many.
About three weeks after Joshie came to live with us, two black kittens who had been spawned in a chicken house joined our household. They were purported to be a brother and a sister. They were both black. She was completely black and well acclimated to humans since the farm kids had fed and handled her repeatedly. He, on the other hand, while also black had a white patch on his chest. He was 1/3 the size of his sister and had eyes that bugged because he was literally starving. Personality-wise, he was the antithesis of his sister – if you even went near him, he spit at you.
She was named after the old TV show “Punky Brewster” because she was so assertive and unafraid. He was named Spitzer after his favorite pastime. Eventually, Spitzer was extended to “Elliott Spitzer” so they both had a first and last name. Joshie coped with all this by looking the other way when they were in the same room with him. His policy was that if he couldn’t see them, they weren’t there.
After a week and a half, Elliott decided we weren’t too bad after all, and began to acting like he might like to stay. He got very attached to Joshie, who continued to ignore them both. Elliott would wrap himself around Joshie’s back leg causing Josh to walk with a distinctly odd gait as he continued to pretend there were NO cats in the house, much less attached to his person.
When Punky Brewster appeared to be about 10 weeks old, I made appointments for all of them with the vet. I asked that they be neutered, given all shots and wormed. I reported that I was bringing a male dog of indeterminate age, a female kitten and her brother who were about 10 weeks old. I did warn them that there was a large discrepancy between the sizes of the kittens.
I went to pick them up at 4 pm on the appointed day. All had gone well, although Elliott had not received his rabies shot because he was too young. “Oh,” they said, “By the way, Elliott is a girl and Punky is a boy! Do you want to change their names?”
“No,” I replied. “Henceforth, the name “Elliott” will be unisex, and ‘Punky’ is officially designated a ‘female impersonator.'”
And that is why I have a female cat named Elliott, a male cat named Punky, and why I no longer trust farm people to determine the gender of an animal.
In December 2011, when we moved to Uaymitun, we inherited two beach dogs – a starving, pregnant gal and one of her grown male pups who didn’t have enough sense to “leave home.” Naturally, we named her, “Mamacita,” and we called him, “Brucie.” The caretaker for our house didn’t speak English, but like many poor Mexicans, he was completely “up” on American culture. He thought we were calling the dog “Bruce Lee,” so Bruce Lee he became.
The four of us, the Hillbilly, Mamacita, Bruce Lee and I lived together, rather contentedly at the beach for about a month. Then, Mamacita did what pregnant females everywhere do – she gave birth – to eight puppies!! Holy Cow!! The most I had ever had was twins, so I was awe struck!! But, by the end of the first two weeks, four of them hadn’t made it, so we were down to only four puppies when they started getting social. Mamacita was so thin from providing for the pups and not getting much for herself anyway (beach dogs are scavengers), that we had started feeding her shortly after we arrived. Bruce Lee somehow felt entitled to join her for meals. We had also picked up a cat when we lived in Chicxulub, and as is our habit, we took her to a vet to have things “fixed.” When we picked her up the next day, we told the vet about the plethora of beach dogs we had acquired and the vet told us about a free neutering clinic in Progreso (about 18 klicks down the highway from us) that was being held in February. I decided then and there, that the sex life of “our” dogs was going to change. We called our friend, Edwin, in Chicxulub and told him to have his dog ready to go on February 14th at 8:00 am. In the end, we had three adult beach dogs and four puppies neutered at the clinic!!
When Valentine’s Day rolled around, the Hillbilly and I loaded up Mamacita and Bruce Lee. I had bought them collars and leashes so I would have some control over them when we got to the clinic. The two dogs and I were dropped at the entrance, and we got in line to be registered. The Hillbilly went back to Chicxulub to get Edwin’s dog, and when he returned, we found out that since the pups were more than four weeks old, they could be neutered, too. So, off he went on one more trip to Uaymitun to get the four puppies.
What an amazing process they have created – the place was full of people, dogs and cats! It looked like pandemonium, but was actually highly organized from start to finish. The clinic lasted two days, Friday and Saturday. They had successfully sterilized 306 animals on Friday, a record, and they were easily headed for another record on Saturday.
These clinics are primarily paid for through sponsorships, and corporate and civic donations. My vet sponsored 20 spots, and also stayed on to help people like me whose Spanish is “limitado.” The staff is strictly volunteer, up to and including the doctors. In the “recovery” area, the majority of the volunteers were gringos. There were gringos manning the refreshment stand, and several gringo-guys had brought in a couple of barbeques and were cooking for the staff and volunteers. All volunteers are organized as “teams.” A crew from “Lesley’s Team” went out and picked up “street” dogs, and brought them in to be sterilized, given their shots and adopted. The street dogs are walked through the neutering/vaccination process by a member of her team. Then they go into the “adoption” area. In addition to gathering the street dogs, Lesley’s Team ran the “adoption” area, and on the previous day, had adopted out 30 pets (neutered, with all their shots and given away at no cost to the adopter). We brought home one of Mamacita’s puppies, and left the other three at the clinic hopefully to be adopted. But, I told Lesley, we will come back to get “our” pups, if they hadn’t found homes by the end of the day. The Hillbilly made the trip back at 4:30 pm, and all the puppies had been adopted. Whoot, whoot!!
Many of the “tech” volunteers (doing the pre-surgical checks, the follow-ups, administering shots, etc.) were interns from the University in Merida, or from local area vets’ offices. The veternarians were volunteers who came from all over North America, including Mexico, Canada and the United States. The non-professional volunteers are trained in how to handle the animals at all points along the process.
Here is the process by which they register, pre-surgery check, operate on, post-surgery check and give shots to over 300 animals in a single day:
First step, register your dog and get assigned a “number.” The dogs are weighed, respiration, blood pressure and teeth checked, etc. At this point the dog is issued a “tag” that stays on its collar until they leave. The “tag” is a strip of masking tape with the dog’s name, weight, gender (in symbol form) and the all-important “number.” Paperwork involves three differentdocuments, each bearing the “number.”
Next, comes the waiting. When your “series” of numbers (in lots of 10) is called, you move from the “general” waiting area to the surgery waiting area. Then when your specific number is called, you walk the dog into “anesthesia” where they are given two prep shots. At that point, a volunteer takes the leash and leads them back into the surgery unit. About 40-45 minutes later, a “carrier” brings them out of surgery to the recovery area. One of the interns jumps in, pulls out the breathing tube, notes respiration and blood pressure, and gives them a “wake-up” shot. The carrier then gently lays them on the recovery area floor (which is covered in newspapers).At that point, a recovery volunteer jumps in with a towel to begin the rubbing/massaging process that gently brings them awake. The animals cannot leave recovery until they are able to walk on their own. Once that happens, they go through “check-out” where the paperwork is turned in, they receive their antibiotics and get a rabies shot. It was inspiring to see so many people, of different nationalities, working together in this efficient process that had been developed over the previous three years. Ten veterinarians worked from 8:30 AM until 5:00 PM each day. Each vet did more than 30 operations per day.
At the end of the day, along with more than 300 other animals, Mamacita, Bruce Lee, Edwin’s Chona, and Mamacita’s four puppies were all neutered and given their shots. And best of all, the pups had all found homes with people who wanted them.
And, this would explain why I’ve always had cats – I need a role model!!
via America’s Funniest Home Videos