Senorita Jakita Confesses to a Humble Beginning

Yup, no doubt about it, all Momma said about me is true and even some she did not put on the record.  It was about sleep time.  As explained, I was a puppy that seemed to suffer from colic and come evening time the whole family including any cats that were inside, all were subjected to a reign of terror brought on by not only bad, but also, barn manners.

You see, every night,  at the Puppy Mill, after we were a few weeks old, we would leave our Baby Mama’s side by escaping our lair and like the movie Groundhog Day, we would be traumatized daily by the other dogs, cats, the clucking hens and a vengeful rooster.  Baby Mamma begged us to stay by her side, but you think we listened?

As soon as the chase race began, the hens would squawk, the dogs barked, the cats caterwauled, the cows mooed, and the horses whinnied.  My puppy siblings and I would hurtle around, deeking, diving in an effort to avoid inanimate and live objects.  Sometimes we would jump in the pig pen, huddling together in one corner and hide out till the din died down, Mama Pig, eying us but with non threatening grunts and squeals, communicating with her eyes, ‘You young ‘uns, never learn. When will you just obey your Baby Mama? Anyway, no worries, the enemy is not brave enough to engage me in battle’.  I liked Mama Pigs’ attitude.

Once all the animals were settled down for the night, breathing deeply, or snoring, we would slink back to our Baby Mama and crawl back in to our lair to curl up for a good night’s sleep. One night, tired of waiting for sleep to descend, we cuddled up with the piglets and Mama Pig.  Baby Mama was so

Just look at me - baying at the sun. Look at those lower incisor teeth, perfected over canine history by chewing on bones. Wouldn't you be scared if you saw me coming? Now if only Momma would trim the fur around my eyes, I'd be right as rain.
Just look at me – lost in the leaves,  baying at the sun.

worried she came looking for us and told us never to do that again to her. And we didn’t.  That is the history of the where and when the night terrors began and why we liked the sun to go down. So you might be kind enough to say, I was just a product of my environment and have compassion on me.

However, once I found my Forever Home, the cats that lived there were not buying my act.  I am sure I heard them ask Momma, why would I behave like that?  The last puppy, Zanny had her faults but she was not ‘loco’ for two hours every night.  Momma sighed and explained that Zanny was home raised, she had been socialized since birth, interacting and loving humans from the get go.  Right, I saw the Cats rolled their eyes, as they reminded Momma, they were all feral kitties, never had interacted with any human until the day Momma captured them and brought them home.  Now they had a hard luck story – born in the wilds, not even a barn for shelter and they were pretty sure that they were not that much trouble. Well, gee, thanks for your warm support, I am going to remember that the next time you want to lie beside me on MY doggie pillow.

All I can tell you is I did get better, really but until I reached that milestone, I was a hurtling little time bomb.  After two frenetic hours of bad behavior every evening, I would fall asleep, in a heap on my doggie pillow – at that point when I was so mean and nippy, the cats avoided me – (go figure,  now,  I am  so well-mannered that I have to fight for a corner on my own doggie pillow). That is when the pointy eared / long-tailed little devil with the pitchfork emerged.  At bed time Momma would come to pick me up to carry in to her room and I am ashamed to say, I would snarl and growl at her.  She would jump back in shock,  like she was bitten by a snake.  I mean, what part of  ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ etiquette did she not understand?.

Jakita tells a spellbound Gen about life at the barn and why she wasn't 'Miss Manners' when she first arrived at her Forever Home. Gen, her BFF, and psychologist looks deep in to Jakita's eyes, caressing her paw, to commiserate and to urge her on because, well, Gen is a practising Catholic from Woodbridge, who realizes 'Confession is good for the soul'.
Jakita tells a spellbound Gen about life at the barn. Since Gen is a  Catholic Kitty from Maple, she realizes ‘Confession is good for the soul.’

Finally, exasperated, one night, at my response, Momma tweaked me on the nose and it registered, oh yeah, it is your Momma, just settle down.  Startled into submission, I looked in Momma’s eyes and saw the pain and confusion my night terrors, my snarling and growling caused herTime to let go of those barn yard manners, I realized, you don’t need it when you live in a home with food and fresh water delivered every couple of hours, long walks, a big back yard, comfy pillows, a bed, a basket of toys and some well-mannered cats to play with.  That is when I made a conscious effort to get with the program and I got a secret for you.  I noticed Momma changed as well, her feelings for Fidel pushed further back in her memory bank, as she committed herself to me.

 

Senorita Jakita: I Am What I Am

So with Momma always busy with let-the-cats-in, let-the-cats-out, when does she get time to meet my expectations and requirements? I am the Alpha, the Omega, the Ultimate Earth Dog, according to my Naturopath, worrying about everyone and everything I come in to contact with. It is a job tailor-made for a puppy with dog-atude.  For example, when all else fails, I will go on record  to say that my powers of healing literally hauled Itty-Bitty Baby back to the world of the living, although science will never  recognize my highly unsubstantiated talents and ability.

Applying layers of healing to poor, sick Itty Bitty Baby.
Applying layers of healing to poor, sick Itty-Bitty Baby.

And I tell you, I got to put up with a lot because my ears hear the butterflies flapping their wings in flight from Africa.  So I know, I know what those squirrels in the trees, the feral cats over at the colony or the people in the neighborhood, are up to. Then I have to keep track of our  cats, three at present but there is no trusting Momma, could be five or six – once it was seven  – Gasp! Seven?

Please don’t give me another worry by reporting us to the City who will call Animal Control, who will dutifully come to deliver a half-hearted, wink-wink admonishment because if Momma won’t help those poor cats, they will end up at their over crowded shelter.  Just thank God there are no dog colonies around here because I don’t want to share my food, my water, my toys, my pillows, my Momma or my Wonder Boy.  They are mine, mine, mine.

Do you see the gleam in my eyes and the wildly divergent shades of black tipped silver, gold, beige, and browns with a white shirt. Look at those creamy paws and that feathery tail -Do I look 'mavellous dawling'?
Do I not look ‘marvelous,  darling’?

Now, get down to business, what do you look like, you ask – big hang up of Masters and their families – almost like a puppy’s looks are a reflection of the families’ beauty, so to speak. I am Havanese,  Diva material…. A Sable-Irish Pied for those in the know and or a White shirt and paws, Sable (Gold/Silver Grey with Black Tipped Tan coat) tuxedo – a Havanese with perfect markings, a sturdy little body that floats like a butterfly, stings like a bee – or that was me until I flunked every canine blood and bone marrow test. But hey, nothing that blood transfusions couldn’t put straight, along with taking some gruesome mood altering prescription drugs. When they hit my system, I would no longer eat, I vacuumed, sucking up food or rocks,  or twigs, or dirt – like I was fussy. And I was so grouchy and hard to get along with – the cats skittered past me, eyes cast down to avoid confrontation – it is not me, honestly, it was the drugs. Good news – FREE AT LAST – I no longer need medication and I am fit as a fiddle.

Sick like a dog…?

So what do you have – something off with my Red Blood Cell Count. How did you know you were sick, you ask? I didn’t,  I just was tired, so tired,  and no longer wanted to eat. After seeing our Vet, a call came that my Red Blood Cell Count was so low I needed an immediate blood transfusion to survive –  but not just anywhere, at an Emergency Clinic for pets in the most dire straights, where each patient has an Emergency Intake Vet assigned, then Specialists according to your condition from Oncologists, to Cardiologists, to Internists, to Neurologists, yeah you get where I am coming from.  It would be intimidating if it wasn’t for my pure bred blood – after all most of the clients are from Oakville so….. that means, well, those Mommas and their puppies wear matching diamond and pearl chokers.

However, the good news for the puppies is that they did not have to wear matching killer heels like their Momma’s wear.  My Clumsy Mumsy would break her ankle  if not her neck. Anyway, who cares about diamond and pearl chokers.  Before any serious procedures are done, we are stripped of all hardware so whether you belong to  a ‘Real-Housewife of Beverley Hills or Oakville’ or your run of the mill Momma from Jakitaville, same policies and procedures are followed.  We are all equal on the gurney, under the powerful LED Operation Lighting System that scrutinizes every detail for the diligent surgeons to consider. I LIKE that!

And so…….after three different clinics…… various medical / specialist vets and one Medical Holistic Vet, all is well…for now… toes crossed…

Jakita today and Good Boy Andy

If it sounds time-consuming, it was…..and if it sounds expensive, ditto…But now I am healthy and earn my keep by  entertaining, and protecting Momma.

Mostly I  keep those cats in line,  all the while, showering Wonder Boy and Momma with love and wet kisses because, well,….

I know which side my bread is buttered on.

 

Senorita Jakita Explains the Policies and Procedures

And so it came to be I called a meeting with Momma’s collection of Indoor and Indoor/Outdoor cats. I negotiated terms and conditions, after feedback, discussion and consensus, from the lot of them:

I Stand on Guard for All of Thee
I Stand on Guard for All of Thee

1)      We needed a name of our place of abide (just guess who  suggested Jakitaville).

2)      Because of the lofty duties I must exercise judicially, I needed a title – I was hoping Queen or Empress or even Princess but majority rules and the Cats were set on Senorita Jakita. They considered Mayor but they vetoed the idea because they do not have the power to vote me out. And if my head got too big and I did not carry out my duties, I’d still hang around, bossing and bullying (like another Mayor you may remember), become a binge party animal that did not respond well to intervention. Right, we got something in common (immeasurable egos), but ya think they are going to fire me??? I’ll get a lawyer, I will go to court, I will make their life miserable! Does that sound like someone you know, that is in the news every day?

Just between you and me, Jakitaville will turn in to a dictatorship – a benevolent dictatorship, but still NOBODY messes around with Jakita and her genius of manipulation and self-aggrandizement.

3)      Once I had all the cats on side, (okay, okay, I bribed them by promising that the male members would also have the title of Sir  in front of their given Name and the females would be known as The Pretty Little Misses (eg. Pretty Little Miss Diva Calico Gen) – got all that – yeah, my eyeballs are going round and round in my head, but I am still the Boss. Oh, and more thing, although I could mention them in my blog, the cats insisted they  were to have their own voice and be able to insert their version of events before, during and after, in their very own, cat-a-log. Whatever!!!!!

The Alter of our Shangri-La, with raw and polished gems of every color, butterflies and angels who look over us through cut stain glass, creating prisms and rainbows along the way.
The Alter of our Shangri-La.

 

And so, we are living the dream, turning our Shangri-La into an oasis, where every critter lives in peace, knowing its’  boundaries, doing  ‘no harm’ with all due loyalty and support to Momma,  Wonder Boy and Daddy (May He Rest In Peace). We must give credit where it is due and remember  who pays for our kibble, our room and board, grooming, vet bills and generally keeps the ship on course – if only Momma would not be so easily seduced by every sad, bedraggled feral who look so needy and cries so pitifully because they are so hungry.  If only. Why don’t the feral cats  just stay at the Cat Colony? 

Why is there no law and order Border Security, like between Mexico and United States – a Trumpster wall, well, scratch that, the desperate always find a way over, under or through.  They are so committed to succeed or die trying, they are even willing to put up with me. But I am a piece of  cake compared to the creatures that lurk around the Cat Colony.

Senorita Jakita – Intro to a Hot Dog

Do you see the gleam in my eyes and the wildly divergent shades of black tipped silver, gold, beige, and browns with a white shirt. Look at those creamy paws and that feathery tail -Do I look 'mavellous dawling'?
Do you see the gleam in my eyes and the wildly divergent shades of black tipped silver, gold, beige, and browns with a white shirt. Look at those creamy paws and that feathery tail – Do I look ‘marvellous darling’?

Hi New Friends: I am  Senorita Jakita  – AKA:   Cuddle-Wuddle-Double- Trouble, Itsy-Bitsy-Baby- Boo or Jakita-Boo- Couchie-Coo         Residence: Jakitaville, Canada                   Position Held: Little Miss Senorita Jakita Breed: Havanese                                     Born: Feb.2, 2010                             Weight:  A Lady Never Tells…

Do you mind, please indulge me, just so you get to know me. This is the story of the protagonist,  Jakita, descended from a fine line of designer dogs, (nod, nod, wink, wink) as shared by my Forever Family and with my fellow Pets, and Wildlife (mostly antagonists), Vets, Emergency Doctors, an Internist and, oh yeah, a dog like me, needs a Naturopath.  So listen and learn – what you see is maybe not all you get. Do ya think I have them wrapped around my little paw-paw or are they too puppy-savvy for that? You be the judge.

I admit I have a Type A Personality with Excessive High Alert when on Prednisone.  Also, my head seems to be on 360 degree swivel tilt – I  see, feel, hear everything.  For example on walks, I hear, see, feel people coming up, at any angle. I will stop, move over, only continuing once any potential threat has passed. No one is to follow me. My paranoia demands that I must control the situation.

The first night at my new home I was so stressed to leave the litter, I panted, my heart raced a hundred miles an hour but I was compliant, settling down to sleep in my  cage. I was taken to the Vet within 2 days of coming home. I was / am EASILY trained both at housebreaking and or tricks but did not seem to like people too much from lack of socialization. Every human just said ‘No’, continually bathed, wiped my paws, cleaned my ears, or bossed me around.  My two brothers & sister were much more fun. They did not give me such a rigid routine to follow and liked getting in trouble with me.

Momma says some times we can not help our rash behavior...it depends on the alignment of the planets on the day you are born...apparently Zanny's chart was capricious.
Momma says some times we can not help our rash behavior…it depends on the alignment of the planets on the day you are born…

Momma, being obsessively Virgo Analytical had to do Dog IQ test on me & the result from the tests, string over head, follow ball etc.,  reported I was brilliant and she was just lucky I liked her. She laughed out loud because when she first  brought me home, she felt my indifference and she was right, as always. I did not like her but over time, as I saw her soul (and she fed me) that has changed. I mean Havanese came from Europe (Spain and France) to Cuba, with  generations of my ancestors considering Momma ‘s type hopeless gringos and / or square heads, so I had some attitude adjusting to contemplate if this was my destiny long-term. More importantly, now, I am older and wiser.

I have become very sociable with people, kids, and some other pets.  I am a neighbor hood favourite and definitely  like people better than dogs, especially big dogs who give off bad energy. I avoid them like the plague. I love to tussle with our cats in a no winner, end up kissing, routine.  After all, they are my responsibility – if they need out, I bark for Momma to open the door.  If they are sick, I lay with them, but still,  if they jump on the table I tattle on them.  It is a big job.

Although Momma says I am a dominant Alpha Dog, I prefer  how  my Naturopath Doctor says I am the Ultimate Earth Dog, responsible for the security and well-being of all within my circle of influence. So,  it is time to tell how I got the honor of having our Pet Sanctuary, named Jakitaville, after me. Could it be that my  Alpha Dog personality played a role in it?  No, really it was simple – Momma & Daddy (RIP) had a slew of pets over the years, loosely set up  like a well run commune, everyone had a say, which meant since puppies were outnumbered, kitties ruled and smirked behind their clawed paws. I know how  those Cat Colonies operate. All of our cats had been feral foundlings at one time (like we all descended from Adam and Eve, no matter our high brow ways), but were just enormously lucky to have crossed paths with Momma – OK, me too.  But they were not  ‘to the manor’ born, and I know, I know, I may be the product of a,  gasp!  – Puppy Mill, but at least there was a record kept of who my Baby Momma and Baby Daddy were. My blood was bluer than the cats. On top of that I not only stepped up to the podium, I owned it.  I told our Indoor,  Indoor/Outdoor Cats, you might as well get used to it, Momma is going to nurture Cats from the Colony, Squirrels, Raccoons, even the Bunnies that raid the lettuce from the garden and of course that  lonely possum who hangs upside down in the tree at night.

As Senorita Jakita of Jakitaville, I am constructing  a Policy and Procedure Handbook of All Creation, (it is underway as we speak),  in which I promise to keep all vermin out of the back yard by chasing, barking, snarling and nipping, when nothing else works. Mind you, those Colony cats persevere, through floods, blizzards and  Arctic vortexes. They will hang around for shelter and food, knowing if Momma catches me being inhospitable, she will command me to cease and desist.

All you need to know about it is contained between these covers!
All you need to know about it is contained between these covers!

Sometimes I fear Momma will never even open the ‘Policies and Procedures Handbook of All Creation’ that I am writing. She says, she does, ‘cute idea, but not going to fly’ .

Knowing Momma’s propensity to not recognize ‘genius’, she probably would have told Mark Zuckerberg the same thing about Facebook.