Rose's Cantina

Hey fans! Check out my new blogsite: www.finnigandiaries.blogspot.com Only for dogs of legal drinking age.

After incurring more than five grand in vet bills over the last two months, we've decided to take out pet insurance on our new pup, Finnigan. With three dogs, we could never afford insurance, but now it just make sense. Our new vet, Dr. Dave, suggested it along with harvesting some stem cells from the little guy which is also a little insurance policy on his limbs. That we'll think about. But insurance for us is a must. We can afford a $250 deductible in case of an emergency but we would be heartbroken if we couldn't afford to get Finn treated if he swallowed one of Skye's toys or broke his leg. It was bad putting down two wonderful older dogs -- we had no choice -- but it would he horrendous to say goodbye to a young dog. As we get older, we understand that insurance is a must for both humans and dogs. Being self-employed Scott and I don't have extra health insurance and, at the moment, can't really afford it. But for $30 a month, pet insurance is a no ...

Gordie and I survived our first day alone with Finnigan -- barely. By the time the afternoon was done yesterday, Gordie the pug had taken to hiding behind my chair. As for me, well, I got a pretty good case of tennis elbow trying to distract the little bugger from chewing my expensive leather couch and chairs and using my sandaled foot as a meat toy. I'm not complaining. He's joyful and not half dead and he makes me laugh. And you know the saying: Puppies are like toilet paper; they're always in shit. No I made that up. I'm pretty sure it will end up as a Columbus famous quote someday. His best asset is his ability to sleep through the night. His head hits the bed and he's a goner. We actually have to wake him up in the morning. But I'm going to have to work on his social skills. Yesterday, he snapped at Nick and Shyla, then Marissa and Jeff. It was curious; I thought he had bonded with Marissa after he puked all over her in the car Sunday. He's a...

It's my first day alone with Finnigan and he's laying on my foot. In a minute, he will try to chew my sandal -- or my big toe -- and I'll have to push him away, But for now, he's cool, calm and collected. It's been years since there has been puppy love in this house. Nine years, to be exact, when we brought home Hannabelle at only four weeks old. Now she and Ming are in doggie heaven, with only Gordie the pug left to train the youngin'. I was frankly worried about Gordie who is the same size at 11-years-old as Finn is at three months. But Gordie seems to have taken on the role of eminence gris, the grandfatherly guide for the new puppy's journey. That's not necessarily a good thing. Gordie regards the entire world as his toilet, he barks incessantly and he hates my baby granddaughter. Finn has yet to have a urinary accident in the house, although he did puke twice. He barks in play but not at people coming to the door. But he may have followed Gor...