I've been waiting for this particular week for a while now... I proudly and enthusiastically purchased several copies of Woman's World Magazine this week. No, I didn't suddenly find myself interested in purchasing a pair of mail-order stretchy mom jeans, nor was I compelled to find the perfect . . .
My husband and I are in negotiations about the Little Deaf One. Until yesterday, these discussions were entirely non-verbal. Between sips of Sunday coffee, legs stretched in the quiet morning sun, he found the courage to verbalize the question we had been silently asking each other for a week, “I . . .
Life got a little more busy for my husband and me a few days ago. We took in an unannounced deaf foster puppy whose jowls beg to be squeezed. The pipsqueak is young, with the fine needle teeth of a three and a half month old puppy. He stays attached to Edison's hip, my white shadow's white shadow, . . .
This originally appeared as a guest blog post on Deaf Dogs Rock. Edison responding to watch me and then the sign for sit. I've learned many virtues from our dogs, but the most important ones from our deaf dog, Edison. Greed, gluttony, envy...oh, snap, I've confused vices and virtues again. Let's . . .
Oliver is the first deaf dog I worked with after adopting Edison and he occupies a very special place in my heart. He came into the shelter as a stray and I chose the name Oliver for two reasons: that was our second choice when naming Edison, and he just looked like an Oliver. At the time, Edison . . .
All of the animals in our house have proper names as well as nicknames. This phenomenon is an anomaly in our house in that, unlike almost everything else here, it did not start with Darwin; it began with the cats. When I met my husband, I was in school studying to become a veterinary technician. . . .
All of the dogs here on East Dixie Highway are terriers and, accordingly, love dirt. This is to be expected and for me, if not my husband, is part of their charm. Remember, I'm a frat boy at heart and my tolerance for filth is much higher than it is for normal people. And drool! I love a slobbery, . . .
When we first met our deaf dog Edison, my husband and I were most definitely not looking for another dog, and a ten-week old, deaf Dogo Argentino/Pit Bull puppy was even further down on our "to-do" list. Way down. Somewhere between a root canal and inviting my mother to come for a visit. We were . . .