Island Misfits

Move over Brady Bunch.  Today I’m introducing Pack o’ Pets!  In case you missed any of my previous posts regarding my relocation, you are likely unaware of my headcount.  I’m the crazy that relocated with FOUR dogs and FOUR cats.  No troop left behind.  By relocating I have also picked up a step dog and a step cat.  Do the math.  TEN furry bodies.  I do not view it as insanity, rather organized chaos that always keeps me on my toes.  Who wants to sit around getting old with nothing to do?  Not me!  I’d much rather spend my day with a broom in my hands cleaning up after these goons.  I’ve been told I look natural with a broom in my hands.  

Below I’m providing profile pictures with names and personality traits (flaws?) of each.  This will be important to review and file away in your memory bank as a reference.  They serve as a constant source of entertainment and will most likely provide a steady stream of writing material.


The oldest and wisest of the dog pack.  The Matriarch at the age of 13 years young.  ½ Pug, ½ Chihuahua.  Messing with Dory is grounds for having the fly swatter waived at you while I blurt out empty threats of using it.





Butt kisser extraordinaire.  She has mastered what my daughter and I call “Puss Eyes”.  Anyone that has seen Shrek or Puss N Boots will respect the reference.  The most loyal, loving and obedient one in the bunch.  8 years old now, I took her in as a tiny stray puppy that had been dumped.  The intent was to foster.  8 years later and we’re still waiting on her forever home.  Kidding of course.  She was never leaving.  Best guess, Australian Shepherd mix.




Momma’s boy.  Also, the only boy amongst the canines and now middle child.  He exhibits all character flaws that are typically associated with each of those positions.  ½ French Bulldog and ½ Shih Tzu = Bullshit.  Dare I put in writing that he MIGHT be my favorite?  I’ve always been drawn to the worst case…and this guy is a mess on 4 legs.




The youngest.  Don’t let that face fool you.  She’s cute and knows how to use it to get everything she wants.  I believe the tan spots on top of her head are burn marks from her previous life where her horns used to be. Evil little genius.  There are no rules for Lily.  She will do just as she pleases thank you very much.  She is often referred to as “Dinghy .25” as she is too small to be Dinghy 2.0.  ½ Daschund, ½ Jack Russell…at least that’s what was written on the box she was dumped on my back steps in at the very delicate age of 5 weeks old.  Who does that???




The step-dog.  She’s an island special.  Never at a loss for something to say and has legs like a greyhound.  Previously an only child, the adjustment was a slow one, but she’s happier as a pack…. Most days.






The step cat.  I’m starting with him under the feline category as he tips the scales at 17 years old.  He’s thin, loud and an all-around crusty little old man.  But that doesn’t matter.  We make sure he has everything he needs to stay healthy and happy.  At his age, he deserves to get whatever he wants.





The princess that resides in the “Princess Tower” on the 3rd floor with my daughter…aka Lola’s “help”.  The dogs are scared of her, and at the first sign of trouble she will appear out of nowhere in a sideways Halloween cat fashion to kick some ass.  Don’t mess with Lola… just give her what she wants.





I don’t even know where to start with this disaster.  He’s not surprised.. that’s just how his face is made.  I rescued him and his brother from what would have been a life of a short-lived barn cat.  He was born without a tail, and my daughter was the first to notice that the markings on his back make a perfect paw print.  I knew I had to have him.  He was one of a litter of only 2 remaining.  My dad caught the mom and her 2 babies in an effort to save them.  He was hanging on to the mom to have her spayed, but needed homes for the babies.




Forrest’s brother, and who is now my favorite cat.  Funny really since I had no plans on taking him when I went to pick up Forrest when he was of age.  But, as I stared down at the fat little plain orange and white kitty, my heart sank.  How could I abandon him and take his brother?  He didn’t deserve less because he had a tail and plain markings.  So, me being me, I scooped him up too.  (Believe me when I say, I would save them ALL if I could.)  Little did I know how much his forever smiling face would warm my heart every day.  I truly believe he hears music in his head all day.  Relationship status?  This orange blob of love is infatuated with the very striking Jewels. I have several incriminating photos of the two canoodling.



Look at his face.  Does he need a description?  We took him in as the plain runt of a litter of kittens that appeared at my sister’s house. (She has the same problem I have… if an animal needs help, it will find one of us).  In an effort to alleviate her stress of trying to find suitable, responsible homes for not only the kittens, but also the stray mother that gifted them to her, I agreed to take the kitten that was the least “eye catching”.  He was odd from the beginning.  Small.  Unwilling to play with his littermates.  Does anyone remember the cartoon “Pinky and the Brain”?  Well, he’s Brain.  I find him quite amusing.




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