My animals are enough to drive you crazy. Even me and I have been told it's a very short trip.

My day usually starts between 5 and 6am with one or more of the dogs whining to go out and a cat trying to eat my necklace so I will get up and feed them.

Let me introduce my zoo. In the dog category, there is Charlie. I rescued him in January of 2001 when I found him wandering around by our Elks Lodge. He was only about a year old. The temps were in the negatives. I knew someone in the trailer park owned him but no one was making sure he was taken care of. We fed him at the Lodge and I came and took him home when it was apparent he had been sleeping outside. He had tapeworm, frost bit on his paws and was the most lovable lab mix ever. He went to live next door with my friends whose young son wanted a dog and loved to come and play with Charlie. Then they had 2 more kids, bought a house and when they moved I took him back. They just had too much on their hands and I didn't feel that Charlie would get the warm, loving home he was entitled to.

Now he lives the life of Riley. He is the absolute best dog I have ever, or will ever have. Right now he is standing by my side, waiting for me to lean over and rub him when I have to stop and think about what I am going to write. He looks at me with such adoration and love that it makes me want to cry sometimes when I think about what he went through. He gets along with everyone- human, dog and cat. That is his very patriotic picture in the blog- he went with my husband's granddaughter and her softball team in the parade one year. He loves to patrol the backyard for squirrels and does his best to keep us safe from them. At 90 lbs. he thinks he is a lapdog and he loves to cuddle and get his belly rubbed. But god help the person who tries to hurt anyone who lives here. I think he would tear them apart.

Charlie plays at the level of who ever he is playing with, never more than they can handle. Which brings me to the Daschunds, Isis and Max. Hubby has had doxies before, my experience with them was not good. My Aunt Francias had one that was mean. My step daughter had one, Conan who was a sweet heart though and that swayed me. So he went hunting on the Daschund rescue sites to find a wire hair. There are 3 types- the smooth, the long haired and the wire haired. I refer to the wire-haired as the Ellen DeGeneres of the dog world. They are comedians pure and simple. With hair like that you would have to be. If you don't keep them trimmed up, the come inside after a snowy day outside with little snowballs attached every where, then you have to thaw them out.

So he found Isis, who is 12 now. Her owner had died and she was placed in foster care in South Carolina. After all the hoop jumping, which I didn't mind, someone heading up to NYC brought her and another foster and we met them in Manhattan to pick her up. Charlie went along for the r-i-d-e. (You have to spell that word, I bet he can read it too). She's a good girl and I think her previous owner must have been in a wheel chair. We used to take them to see my dad at the nursing home when he was dying and then another friend and she never shied away from them but would walk right next to the chairs. We live across from a nursing home and they wander over there when we are out walking all the time to visit the guys who are outside.

Then last summer he found Max. Max was one of many rescued from a puppy mill in N. Carolina. There were 24 and when they went up for adoption here, they all found new homes in 2 days. He was 2 and 1/2 when he was rescued and weighed only 8 1/2 pounds. He looked like a bobble head doll. Now he is around 20 and full of piss and vinegar. He still has problems with going outside. You literally have to carry him out into the backyard, once you can catch him. He is very skittish sometimes, at others he just cuddles right up or jumps on your lap. But if you go to scratch him, he runs off. Other times he just rolls over to have his belly rubbed.

Right now they are playing tug of war with a blanket on the couch and Charlie is refereeing. Max didn't know how to go up and down stairs or play with toys. Now he runs them like he is in a marathon. I have them gated so once he is downstairs and I can get to it first, he can't get back up. Not that we don't accommodate our house for our animals. I had the carpeting upstairs removed and the floors tiled because they found a spot to use instead of the puppy pads. A roof over the back door in case it starts to rain and they are outside. Buying stock in Wet Jet and Bounty and Walmart Puppy Pads. And those aren't just for the dogs.

I think the cats are even stranger. But I will save that for another day.

Suffice to say, that there is no lack of love in this household for the furry members. They have all found a safe, loving home where their needs come first. Sick? They go to the vet long before I think about going to the Dr. Hungry? A secret snack is not out of the question, although Isis is getting fat again. Time to cut her food intake a little. Right now they are eating breakfast. Mas does a happy dance, in circles on his hind legs, until I put his bowl down. Charlie finishes his then waits until everyone else is done and they all go licking each others bowls. Everyone has their own spot and no one tries to eat the others food. Max has learned to play with toys- or at least steal everyone elses and hide them when they aren't looking. He has this pile under the computer desk beneath his pillow that he lays on.

Mind you, the doxies are supposed to be hubby's dogs. Ha. Ha. Isis will divide her time between us, but Max has been tyring to take over the Male Alpaha position from hubby. I find it amusing.

I know that they will cuddle up with me tonight while I watch the Oscars. Of course, it may have to do with the popcorn I will be eating.