Tag Archives: shelter

1/17/17 The “Mischief With Maggie” Series has launched!

Dear Readers,

Maggie and I have been quiet a while. We have been busily reworking our previous manuscript. I am proud and pleased to announce that the first book in the “Mischief With Maggie” series is published in both ebook (Kindle) format and paperback. They are available at Amazon.com.


The paperback edition is available for $4.00 US. This book is not illustrated because the photos I had were not high res enough for the software. A disappointment, but nonetheless, I humbly offer it to you.

This is the picture you will see for the ebook:


The ebook sells for $1.50 US.

This first story outlines the trials, tribulations, and triumphs of adopting not just a shelter dog, but the longest-term resident of the shelter, and a dog classified as a “Pit bull” to boot.

Thank you to my WP family for all your support. It has been a very long time coming from page one to publication.

I will write more news soon. In the meantime, Maggie and I are going to go collapse!


Liz and Maggie





8/26/13 Guest Blogger, “Mom” – Being A Pitbull Mom

To finish off the third and final installment of my “BSL” and “Dog Fighting” blogs, I have asked my human Mom to be a guest blogger today.  Tomorrow I will go back to my normal blogging activity.  Woof!  Love, Maggie


Hello!  I’m Maggie’s human Mom.  I want to say that I had never, ever considered getting a Pitbull as a pet.  Never.  I had spent years rescuing Greyhounds, and was familiar with those dogs and their issues.  But.  The Greyhounds have been gone for many years, my son Jamie pretty much outgrew his asthma, and it was time for another dog.

We put our heads together and decided on a shelter dog.  I put down my hard and fast rules:  1. No puppies.  2. Mixed breed dog.  3. Short hair.  4. Male dog.  We went to the shelter and looked at EVERY dog.  Jamie kept going back to kennel #23.  Her name was Maggie, and she was a beautiful white dog, sitting with her front paws crossed very ladylike.  She looked at us with intelligent eyes.  There was another dog there, a Shepherd, who had been a U.S. Marshall’s dog (how it got in the shelter, I have no clue).  Egypt knew all her commands, and was 6 years old.  I was leaning towards Egypt but Jamie said, “Mom, I think 6 years is a little too old.”  Scarred from the short lifespans of Greyhound Rescued Racers, I caved.  So much for my hard and fast rules!

We set up a sniff & meet in the corner room and Maggie came in, head down, tail wagging. She kissed us all over our faces and leaned up against me in a doggie hug.  My goose was cooked.  I still didn’t know she was a Pitbull.  Silly?  I don’t know; maybe, but in my mind all the Pitbulls looked like the Target dog and had pointy faces.  I thought she was a Lab mix.

At the counter, the lady explained that Maggie needed a spay.  I quickly agreed to everything:  Stitches that dissolve. Pain meds.  Antibiotics.  Anything.  As the woman was typing in the information, she said aloud, “Breed:  American Staffordshire Terrier”.  And that is when my brain exploded.  Pitbull?  PITBULL??!!!  THAT DOG CANNOT BE A PITBULL!!!  Stupidly I stammered, “How big is it going to get?”  The next thought in my mind was, “Jamie, pick out another dog!”  Every negative media story I had heard and seen flashed through my mind in a nanosecond.

I must have had a real look on my face because Jamie looked at me with wounded eyes.  “Mom!” he practically whispered.  My mind wheeled back to just a few minutes before, of the skinny white dog with the smiling face, leaning up against me, hugging me as if her life depended on it.  “We’ll take her,” I stated firmly, wondering how I would explain a Pitbull adoption to my husband.

The rest you know from Maggie’s blog.  She’s a real Daddy’s Girl and her human Dad loves her to pieces.

The reason I am saying all of this is because I almost missed out on THE BEST PET of my life because I had a knee-jerk reaction to the word, “Pitbull”.  I hope that through Maggie’s blog, some people will have a second thought about these wonderful, brave dogs, who are abused beyond anything we can even think of and then left on the streets, in Dumpsters, and abandoned houses, to die.

Education is key for humans.  We need to understand that things like dog fighting and BSL are wrong.  There is no “clean” or humane dog fight.  Everybody loses!  BSL just spreads fear and ignorance.  We need to understand that if we abuse a dog and train it to be aggressive, well, it’s going to happen.  But if we treat our dogs with love, patience, routines, and school, we will not have most of these aggression incidents in the first place.

Never, ever in my wildest dreams did I think I would be a Pitbull Mom.  Now that I am, I can’t imagine not being one.

Thank you,

Maggie’s Mom

PS – Egypt was adopted within 3 days! 

6/12/13 Monthlong Musings


(look – you can hardly see my spine anymore!)

I mentioned on Sunday that I’ve been home a month, and I’d like to go back to that for a bit.  My life has drastically changed in the time that I’ve been here.  Before this, I lived for six months in an animal shelter, caged in a kennel.  Before that, I lived as a stray, out in the streets.  At some time – probably around 9 months – I had a litter of pups and was kicked out of whatever home I had.  I don’t remember too much more.  Except for being hit.  Because I go into a cringe pattern whenever I see an upraised hand.  But I’m never hit here, so that behavior is going away, slowly, as I learn to trust.

I’ve learned so much in a month.  How to go up and down stairs.  How to open and close doors and drawers.  How to guard the house and my people.  I feel a lot more relaxed around the house, like I am home now, like I belong here.  I’ve learned the different sounds of the house, and not to tweak out about them.  Like the buzzing of Clothes Dryer when he’s talking to Mom.  Or Dad’s Frankenstein steps in the morning, when he wakes up and clomps around the house.  I don’t go into barking fits about either of these anymore.

My commands are much better.  My vocabulary has improved.  My jumping on people has gotten better…eh, slightly.  I’m still working on my separation anxiety and they still have to crate me.  I think I’ve made big strides.  I know I’ve got a long way to go.

Mom sent a letter to the shelter.  She read it to Dad so I heard everything.  The letter said that I was a “fine animal companion” and an “adoption success story”.  She sent pictures, too, so they could see I was healthy and happy.  I’ve put on weight.  I’m looking and feeling good.  Sometimes I think about the animals I left behind who are not as lucky as me.

So, I wanted to mention that you can sponsor an animal at your local animal shelter by picking someone out, and sending a small amount of money monthly for their care and feeding.  This will help them get adopted faster, and is a great program for animals who are long-term residents like I was.  I hope you nice people reading this will consider this option, especially if you can’t have a pet of your own.  It’s really very fulfilling and not too expensive.  Thanks, and I don’t mean to sound like one of those commercials on the TV Dad always watches.

Life is different for me now.  I’m very grateful.  Sending you love, licks, and tail wags,