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Happy New Year

The holidays are over. All the presents were unwrapped, some exchanged, some put to good use, and let’s be honest, some put away for regifting next year. Many of us managed to finish every last left over and are now regretting eating them all. It is 9 days into everyone’s New Year’s resolutions. 

I struggled for a while to come up with a resolution for myself, reviewing all the standards that I, and most of the population, have made in years past, lose a few pounds, go back to the gym for regular workouts, get on a budget. I was really giving it some thought, should I resolve any of those things or all of them at once?  The answer was yes to all of the above, and then I looked across the room to my cat. She was sleeping peacefully, stretched along the back of the couch. She must have sensed me looking at her because she opened her eyes and yawned. After looking at me for a moment, she closed her eyes and went back to enjoying her snooze in the sunny spot.

As I watched her a funny thought occured to me. If Miss Kitty were to make a New Year’s resolution, what would it be? Would she vow to sleep less than 16 hours a day? Would she worry about dropping the winter weight she seems to gain every year? Probably not. As soon as the weather gets warm and she can chase moles around the yard, she slims right back down. Would she promise not to claw at the back of my leather chair anymore since she knows it annoys me? I don’t think so.

From here my thoughts turmed to the dog. What resolution would Riley Roo make? Would he promise not to shake all his fur around the bathroom after getting a bath?  Would he swear off the buscuits he enjoys after every long walk? Would he stop sleeping on the couch? Would he vow to let me brush him more often so he shed less hair all over the house? Pretty unlikely.

I realized that my pets just enjoy life for what it is. Of course they don’t have to pay the bills or worry about raising a family, but still, I think that there is something to be learned from them.

Can you imagine a day when you don’t feel the need to dream up all the ways you should improve yourself? How liberating it would be to simply stop fretting over so many things and just enjoy every day. 

My New Year’s resolution. Learn the lessons my pets have taught me.

I resolve to worry a little less. I resolve to enjoy my days a little more. I resolve to appreciate the warmth of the sun on my face.

Dolphin Back Pack

Product Reviewed: Dolphin Back Pack - Item # RM156

Retail $34.95

Content: Vinyl bag, Metal Telescopic handle with Hard Plastic Handle and Wheels.

Meausures: 21″ x 16″ x 8″. Length with Handle extended is 38 1/2″.

This dolphin design bag is very durable.  It takes a beating with my kids. The bag works out great when we are gone for the day. We spend most of our weekends traveling to different sports fields for the kids games. I try to pack towels for wet bleachers changes of uniforms sweatshirts food etc. Of course this bag gets pulled every where, the double wheels make pulling it easy. The convenient straps can be tucked in so they do not drag while pulling the bag. However, if you want to carry it on your shoulders the straps can be easily taken out. The various pockets fit all sorts of goodies. The zippers work smoothly. For the size of the bag it fits quite a bit. The design of the bag turns a plain black bag into a ocean of dancing dolphins. 5 stars

(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

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Whales & Friends offers this same back pack in  Cat Face and Turtle Print designs as well. Check them out!

Content – Latex Rubber – Soft Jersey Lining

Sizes Available – Ladies sizes XS (6), S (7), M (8), L (9), XL (10).

I LOVE THESE BOOTS!!!! They just slip right on. I wore them to my son’s double- header baseball game after 3 solid days of rain. The field was like a swamp. The dog pattern on the boots were quite the conversation starter at the game. Everyone had mud between their toes and in their sandals while my feet stayed nice and dry. When I came home from the games at the end of a long and soggy day I rinsed the boots off with water and they were good as new, the pattern still bright. These are great quality boots. My neighbor loved them so much, I have to buy her a pair for her birthday. I found they run a half size large, which is great for wearing thick socks, but bear that in mind when ordering. I give the Fun Dog Rain Boots 5 stars.

(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

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Red Horse Rain Boots

Horse Play Rain Boots

 

 

 

Tags: Fun Dog Rain Boots, Horse Rain Boots, product review, Rain Boots, robin's review, Whales & Friends, Whales Direct

I mentioned in my last post that I had to medicate my cat. Ugh! Miraculously she is “speaking” to me again. For those of you who have cats you understand what I mean. For several days during the week that we had to medicate her, Miss Kitty would not look at me. She would deign to come up on the bed or the couch in my presence, however she let me know she was not happy by sitting with her backside facing me while staring at the wall. Her “motor” did not run. Not a purr could be heard all week. Miss Kitty would come into a room that I was in, but only to let me know that I was persona non grata as far as she was concerned. Basically she was ignoring me, but wanting to be sure that I understood I was being ignored. Normally when I stand in the kitchen or come home at the end of the day the cat rubs her little self against my ankles, making sure that her scent as well as her fur is all over my pant’s leg. She came at the sound of her food bowl being filled, and occasionally when I tried calling her she would poke her head around the corner to at least look into the room that I was in.

Miss Kitty’s behavior went back and forth from passive aggressive to downright hostile depending on how close it was to medication time. However I understood where she was coming from. I am the mother of a teenager, so there is nothing that the cat can throw at me that I can’t handle.

This behavior lasted until 2 days after we stopped having to give her the Clindomyacin.

Miss Kitty survived and so did I.

I am happy to report that harmony has once again been restored. The cat gleefully jumps up on my bed at night, when she is not sleeping with the dog that is, and lays across my back, my side or whatever spot my sleeping position allows and purrs herself silly. 

The company of my cat was something I sorely missed. I’m glad she’s back.

Welcome to “Robin’s Reviews”

Hi Everyone,
My name is Robin and I am going to review products from Whales & Friends. Any product you find in my Review Page I have tested in a real-life situation. I am not a Whales & Friends employee. I am, however a Mom and anything brought into my home has to stand up to my 2 kids as well as myself. I do not have a laboratory. I simply use the products described in my home, my car or wherever applicable. In other words, the products have been incorporated into my life just as they would be in yours. Each time I give a review I will list the product description, the Whales & Friends item number, post the image, tell you what I think and give a star rating.

Readers, you can vote too. If I have reviewed a product that you have purchased, then add your vote!

If you have a product that you want to discuss, something you have purchased, please comment. I will post your comments too!

This Week’s Pick:

Whales & Friends “Plush Tiger Blanket”

Item Number RM165

Retail Price $64.95

Content: 85% acrylic/15% poly fleece

Measurement 78″ x 93 1/2″

The kids and I love to cuddle in the evenings on the couch and hang out. The importance of having the “right” blanket may seem like a silly detail, but trust me, it’s an important one. Thus, I decided to test out the Plush Tiger Blanket . It’s wonderful! Soft, warm, and the colors are vibrant, the tiger is beautiful. I washed it in cold water the colors came out just as vibrant as before it was washed. We have been using it in our living room to cuddle up when watching T.V. and fighting over the blanket has become a nightly ritual. If you love to snuggle at night and tiger’s are your thing, this should be a perfect fit!

My vote- 5 stars.

(3 votes, average: 2.67 out of 5)

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OMG. For those of you who are not versed in “instant messenging” speak, that means Oh My God! I recently had to medicate my cat daily for a week. This is a task that is not for the faint of heart.  Of all the aspects about having cats as a pet, this has to be the worst. It makes cleaning the litter box look like a day in the park.

My vet, knowing that trying to “pill” my cat is about as difficult as trying to climb Mt. Everest barefoot and without a guide, decided to prescribe a liquid antibiotic. When presented with the liquid I was told that the cat needed to have it with food, that it tasted bad and that she would need a full 2 mls for each dose.

I thought. “ok, I can do this.” There are five of us in the house, one who interned at a veterinary clinic.  This can’t be that bad. Miss Kitty needed this medication and she would get it.

We were instructed to give her the first dose that evening. Luckily she was still somewhat stoned from the anesthesia she had earlier in the day, so although it was a challenge, she was more docile than usual and basically we medicated her without too much trauma.
The next night, without the benefit of sedatives coursing through her body, we had to give her another dose. This is where the fun begins.

I probably should have had the taken some anti-anxiety meds or at the very least had a glass of wine before attempting to medicate our cat.  As it was, I went about this chore completely sober and this may have been a mistake. Either the cat or I should have had something because by the time she got the last drop of antibiotic the cat was miserable and hating everyone and the kids and I were a jumble of frayed nerves.

On day 2, after we were sure Miss Kitty had eaten, we set about doing the deed. It took three of us to corner the cat in a room, because even on a good day picking up Miss Kitty is never a good idea. She is extremely affectionate, but only on her own terms.  I tried to “cuddle” her against my chest, while someone tried to pry her mouth open and inject the liquid a bit at a time so that she would get it all but not choke. I wish I had been a fly on the wall to see what this looked like. The cat squirmed, hissed and meowed, although this sounded more like a high pitched wail than an actual meow. I could not keep her claws retracted or her paws from swatting at me. Anyone thinking that it cannot really be that difficult to hold a 7lb animal still for a few brief moments, think again.  This adoring creature that curls up on me, the dog and every member of the household and purrs with content and joy on a daily basis became a hissing, screaming, bundle of frenetic energy that fought me as if I was setting her tail on fire.

She managed to escape my grasp and we had to start all over again. For a while we played a game of catch and release, or rather catch and escape. We would get a hold of the cat and she would manage to get away through a combination of claws and wriggling and ferocious hissing. By now I was thinking “forget the wine, I want a martini.”  Eventually, finally, at very long last, after chasing the cat over, under and around the furniture, we came up with a strategy that worked.  I had to basically sit over the cat, not on her but over her, grasping her two front paws firmly together while someone else held the scruff of her neck, at which point my vet-in-training pried open the cats jaws of steel and administered the life-saving meds as my 11 year old jumped up and down in the background screaming.

That was day two. Five more to go.

There has got to be a better way!

If anyone know of one please share your words of wisdom.

Now, where did I put that martini shaker?
Cat-themed gifts, jewelry and home décor at Whales & Friends.

As some of you may have guessed by reading a few recent posts, Whales & Friends® has a new contributing blogger, Teakay. Her passion is horses and we are thrilled that she has joined us. If you share Teakay’s fervor for horses, own a horse, dream of riding, have a child that prefers to spend their days in the barn,  consider the stables to be your second home, or maybe your first, then check back often to read the words of a kindred spirit.

Whales & Friends® Horse-themed gifts are great for any occasion.

My first official steed was actually a burro, concrete and sized for a four year old. He lived in my grandmothers yard. It was with him that I first began to learn the intricacies of tacking up. Using my Encyclopedia of the Horse as a guide, I fashioned halters and bridles and harnesses from clothesline, built sulkies and chariots from cardboard boxes. His ears eventually crumbled away leaving two spikes of rebar to impale the shins of unsuspecting adults. Over the years, a few days before some school holiday or another, an uncle would valiantly attempt to effect new ears with a bag of Quickerete and some chicken wire in anticipation of my visit, but inevitably the repair would fail and within a month and the burro would return to rebar ears. I always felt it lent him an air of character, this burro was, after all, an adventurer not content merely to tote baskets of flowers like all the other garden burros, it was with him that I would ride into the Colorado sunset.

Because I had to leave my steed behind in Colorado, I had other horses at the home stable in Idaho. Breyers, of course, the Cadillac of horse toys. I acquired my first on my seventh birthday, there was a special trip to a department store where I was allowed to choose whichever one I wanted. I chose Buckshot, a gray and black leopard spotted mustang, whose flying mane and tail and jaunty pose made him irresistible – and totally unable to stand up without leaning on something. I soon had a small herd of Breyers, including Man O’War, a fine Dappled Tennessee Walker, Misty of Chincoteague, and several cheap plastic horses (for use at the beach and in the bath, to spare wear and tear on the show horses). I received my one and only Barbie from some deluded relative or another, but decided she was stupid because she was unable to ride any of the Breyers with her non-bending legs, I longed for a Breyer Brenda with her knee joints and blue jeans and sensible footwear.

Christmas at this house came in late summer when a neighbor’s grown son would arrive on a Saturday or Sunday with a stock trailer full of cheap (and usually broke down) ranch horses purchased at auction early that morning. The horses were unloaded, bathed right on the front lawn and tied along side the trailer (standing right in the street!) to dry while their manes and hooves were trimmed, in the late afternoon they were loaded back up and returned to the auction, hopefully to turn a tidy profit. In retrospect this was perhaps not the most scrupulous of businesses, but to be able to sit on the sidewalk and gaze or ride my bike slowly up and down the street, to pick out just which one I hoped to own someday was a time I looked forward to all summer long.

When we lived for a time in upstate New York I preferred to go back to school shopping at the outlet mall, not because of the fabulous bargains on name brand apparel, but because a trip to the outlets meant driving past pastures full of Thoroughbred brood mares and their foals. I really hoped someone would buy me a jockeys whip or goggles from one of the silly tourist shops in downtown Saratoga Springs and I began staying up late in the summertime to watch the sulky races live on TV. Around this time came a silver studded bridle that would hang in my bedroom for nearly a decade before being pressed into service on my very first horse.

By the time I reached Colorado and high school I had a loose association of friends and acquaintances all of whom owned horses I could ride on a regular basis, a decent pair of riding boots and my eye on a cheap place to board that first horse. His name was Puppy, he was a grade horse out of Texas, black with only a white star, a marked ear, and loved to chase cars and barrels. Ten years and yet another state later I have a car full farriers equipment and loose hay, an apartment that could be mistaken for a high end tack room, and my eye perpetually on some Icelandic horse or another. The silver studded bridle still hangs on my wall and though I outgrew him after too long my burro was returned to me as a graduation gift, and currently resides between the TV and the stereo, rebar ears still a constant threat to shin bones. I recently sold most of my Breyers off on Ebay, but there are still a few hanging around and in the right light my aging chestnut Quarter Horse could almost be called orange.