NEW GLARUS - Polly, Drady, Raja, Kobi and several of their friends happily share a rural retirement home south of New Glarus with a few cats and their caretaker Ann Faber.
Drady has had a stroke; he also has asthma. He holds his head a little cocked and has difficulty walking on slippery floors. He loves to be held and carried, and looks adoringly at Faber.
Polly sits beside Faber and shows her jealousy with a little snort.
"Polly is so loyal. She never leaves my side," Faber said.
Drady and Polly are rescued Chihuahuas. Raja and Kobi are rescued black Labradors.
They and the other eight canines in the home have special needs, as do the cats. Most of them are just growing older, and getting medical problems. All of them, except Faber's first Labrador, Darla, were considered "unadoptable."
"It's a farm with a purpose," Faber said of her five-acre home. "I found my purpose."
Polly is considered the mother of the many Chihuahuas rescued from the Bitz farm in March 2008. She likes Beany Babies, and will nest with them, Faber said.
Wilson is by far Faber's youngest, still only a year old, but the black and white Chihuahua was labeled a "biter," and was unusually timid. Faber suspects he had been beaten.
Today, he is friendly and spirited, giving one of the cats a little chase through the house. He also uses the older Labs as "springboards," Faber said.
Minion (of Satan), blond with a white stripe down his forehead, was considered a biter, too. Faber was warned not to let him near children, but when he met Faber's 2-year-old granddaughter, he got excited and wanted to lick her face.
Puba, a smoky gray domestic short hair feline originally from Verona, has allergies. Another cat has a problem eye. He lets Kobi lick it clean.
Kobi is the largest of the black Labs at about 142 pounds, the Alpha male of the group and "not very bright," according to Faber.
But with his gentle manners, he is the one to whom the cats go for grooming.
"Kobi will lick a cat until it is wet," Faber said. "Then the next one will come to get licked." The cats also allow him to clean their wounds.
Perhaps a bit of a big baby, too, Kobi sits in Faber's lap at times, taking up one paw at a time.
Raja was Faber's first rescue dog, although she was just looking for a friend for 2-year-old Darla.
"I put a sign up in the New Glarus Laundromat, and I got 100 calls," she said.
Faber found Raja with only three legs, who, she was told, was a barker, and kept in a garage for about nine hours a day.
Since that time, Faber has fostered many animals, some of which simply were dropped off in the dead of night at her farm.
"One morning I got up and someone had tied a stinky, mean, blind goat to my light pole. I kept him long enough to love him," she said.
"They didn't drop off $50 and the animal," she said. "Just the animal."
At one time Faber had 120 "critters," including a naughty pig, a two-foot-high mean rooster and a smelly goat. She rescued a featherless goose once used in research. Faber knitted sweaters for it to wear.
"I was doing chores six hours a day," she said.
Eventually, she found a home for all of the farm animals at a farm near Fort McCoy.
The new owner came with two large trailers one Christmas eve.
"He was a big burly man, but he handled all of them so gently, lifting each one and setting them on the straw he put in the trailer. Even the stinky goat," Faber said.
"If it weren't for the expense (of feed) I'd still have all these farm animals," she said.
When Faber moved to the farm 14 years ago, she worked for Green County Humane Society.
"I saw what a dire need there was," she said.
The Green County Humane Society is a no-kill shelter, and Faber said she tries to stay away, because it is too hard to walk out without helping one animal in there. But she is contacted in the event of a truly unadoptable case.
"People come to the shelters with high expectations. They want the perfect pet, and I look for the ones with special needs. It's not an issue with me," she said.
Faber also has been involved with Chihuahua Rescue, which is where she acquired Drady and little 4-pound, black and tan Choo-choo, (and two of her sisters, now deceased) from puppy mill rescues. Choo-choo tongue hangs out the side of her toothless mouth as she lies quietly on one of the many blankets in the frontroom floor. She has congestive heart failure now and is on daily medication.
To support her one and only "hobby," Faber works two jobs waitressing at Turner Hall and at the Glarner Stube. An added benefit is being given all the leftovers to take home to her canines.
"I never go away without taking the Chihuahuas," Faber said. "They're too delicate."
A two-hour trip to Neena takes four hours, she said. And she packs along some puppy potty pads for the trip.
"They're like kids. You have to be stopping all the time for someone to pee or because one is puking," she laughs.
Faber's family members take care of the Labs at home.
But on a trip to Yellowstone Lake dog park, everyone goes along for the day.
"Other people there open their door and a dog or two jump out. I open my door and they never stop. And they're all walking funny," Faber said.
Actually, Faber lifts most of them out.
Arthritis keeps 16-year-old Darla from walking much at all these days, and she doesn't go swimming at the dog park, preferring to lie on the beach in the sun. Choo-choo wheezes. Drady wobbles. Raja romps along on three legs.
With the dog park fenced in, Faber can relax a few hours as the canine-12 explore.
Back at the farm, newly built homes encircle their land, flood lights now shine in their yard and neighbors complain if they pee on a bush. But yet, inside their century old farm house, there's a good chance the Glarner Stube sent home some leftover weinerschnitzel for a late night snack - not bad for a dog's life.
Drady has had a stroke; he also has asthma. He holds his head a little cocked and has difficulty walking on slippery floors. He loves to be held and carried, and looks adoringly at Faber.
Polly sits beside Faber and shows her jealousy with a little snort.
"Polly is so loyal. She never leaves my side," Faber said.
Drady and Polly are rescued Chihuahuas. Raja and Kobi are rescued black Labradors.
They and the other eight canines in the home have special needs, as do the cats. Most of them are just growing older, and getting medical problems. All of them, except Faber's first Labrador, Darla, were considered "unadoptable."
"It's a farm with a purpose," Faber said of her five-acre home. "I found my purpose."
Polly is considered the mother of the many Chihuahuas rescued from the Bitz farm in March 2008. She likes Beany Babies, and will nest with them, Faber said.
Wilson is by far Faber's youngest, still only a year old, but the black and white Chihuahua was labeled a "biter," and was unusually timid. Faber suspects he had been beaten.
Today, he is friendly and spirited, giving one of the cats a little chase through the house. He also uses the older Labs as "springboards," Faber said.
Minion (of Satan), blond with a white stripe down his forehead, was considered a biter, too. Faber was warned not to let him near children, but when he met Faber's 2-year-old granddaughter, he got excited and wanted to lick her face.
Puba, a smoky gray domestic short hair feline originally from Verona, has allergies. Another cat has a problem eye. He lets Kobi lick it clean.
Kobi is the largest of the black Labs at about 142 pounds, the Alpha male of the group and "not very bright," according to Faber.
But with his gentle manners, he is the one to whom the cats go for grooming.
"Kobi will lick a cat until it is wet," Faber said. "Then the next one will come to get licked." The cats also allow him to clean their wounds.
Perhaps a bit of a big baby, too, Kobi sits in Faber's lap at times, taking up one paw at a time.
Raja was Faber's first rescue dog, although she was just looking for a friend for 2-year-old Darla.
"I put a sign up in the New Glarus Laundromat, and I got 100 calls," she said.
Faber found Raja with only three legs, who, she was told, was a barker, and kept in a garage for about nine hours a day.
Since that time, Faber has fostered many animals, some of which simply were dropped off in the dead of night at her farm.
"One morning I got up and someone had tied a stinky, mean, blind goat to my light pole. I kept him long enough to love him," she said.
"They didn't drop off $50 and the animal," she said. "Just the animal."
At one time Faber had 120 "critters," including a naughty pig, a two-foot-high mean rooster and a smelly goat. She rescued a featherless goose once used in research. Faber knitted sweaters for it to wear.
"I was doing chores six hours a day," she said.
Eventually, she found a home for all of the farm animals at a farm near Fort McCoy.
The new owner came with two large trailers one Christmas eve.
"He was a big burly man, but he handled all of them so gently, lifting each one and setting them on the straw he put in the trailer. Even the stinky goat," Faber said.
"If it weren't for the expense (of feed) I'd still have all these farm animals," she said.
When Faber moved to the farm 14 years ago, she worked for Green County Humane Society.
"I saw what a dire need there was," she said.
The Green County Humane Society is a no-kill shelter, and Faber said she tries to stay away, because it is too hard to walk out without helping one animal in there. But she is contacted in the event of a truly unadoptable case.
"People come to the shelters with high expectations. They want the perfect pet, and I look for the ones with special needs. It's not an issue with me," she said.
Faber also has been involved with Chihuahua Rescue, which is where she acquired Drady and little 4-pound, black and tan Choo-choo, (and two of her sisters, now deceased) from puppy mill rescues. Choo-choo tongue hangs out the side of her toothless mouth as she lies quietly on one of the many blankets in the frontroom floor. She has congestive heart failure now and is on daily medication.
To support her one and only "hobby," Faber works two jobs waitressing at Turner Hall and at the Glarner Stube. An added benefit is being given all the leftovers to take home to her canines.
"I never go away without taking the Chihuahuas," Faber said. "They're too delicate."
A two-hour trip to Neena takes four hours, she said. And she packs along some puppy potty pads for the trip.
"They're like kids. You have to be stopping all the time for someone to pee or because one is puking," she laughs.
Faber's family members take care of the Labs at home.
But on a trip to Yellowstone Lake dog park, everyone goes along for the day.
"Other people there open their door and a dog or two jump out. I open my door and they never stop. And they're all walking funny," Faber said.
Actually, Faber lifts most of them out.
Arthritis keeps 16-year-old Darla from walking much at all these days, and she doesn't go swimming at the dog park, preferring to lie on the beach in the sun. Choo-choo wheezes. Drady wobbles. Raja romps along on three legs.
With the dog park fenced in, Faber can relax a few hours as the canine-12 explore.
Back at the farm, newly built homes encircle their land, flood lights now shine in their yard and neighbors complain if they pee on a bush. But yet, inside their century old farm house, there's a good chance the Glarner Stube sent home some leftover weinerschnitzel for a late night snack - not bad for a dog's life.