Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Shooting Season
This coming Saturday marks the opening of deer hunting in our state. For a week or two prior to the hunting season, we experience what I call, “shooting season.” This is the time when hunters “sight in” their hunting rifles. POW!!
Pow-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow.
With no leaves on the trees, sound carries more than usual in our valley. Not far away over hills, there is a gun range. We can hear those shots, too, in addition to neighbors shooting on their property.
It is not unusual to hear occasional gunshots year-round but in November, rifle reports ring out from every direction. I am not a hunter, so I have very little understanding of what the sound of the different gunshots reveals about the weapons being used. Some sound a lot bigger than others.
I also don’t get why we occasionally hear rapid repeated shots. Do deer hunters sometimes shoot with automatic multi-shot rifles?
Asher and I were out playing ball in the backyard while someone in the general vicinity was shooting yesterday afternoon.
He would pause and turn his head toward the sound, but thankfully, he never wanted to run toward the source.
We bought him a new vest to ensure he wouldn’t be confused with being a wild animal when he gets loose and runs through the forest.
I’m finding it makes it much easier to spot him among the trees after he runs at supersonic speeds to chase turkeys/rabbits/squirrels and I’m left behind in his dust.
I’m happy to report that our attempt to train him to come to the front door when he hears the ping of the hanging bell there worked like a charm at the end of the day yesterday. I’d say it has worked a third of the time when his location is unknown. Maybe he isn’t always hearing it.
When we know he can hear it because we are ringing it to test him, it is getting him to run in about 98% of the time. I like it better than trying to shout for him.
Yesterday was a good day for off-leash exercise. When the hunt begins on Saturday, Asher will be back on a full-time leash until the Monday after Thanksgiving.
At that point, shooting season and hunting season will both be over and we can get back to the merely odd occasional gunshot outbursts common in the rural countryside.
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Good Results
Yesterday morning, our horse handler from This Old Horse and the nutritionist from Purina visited to assess the horses’ diets. It has been one year and one month since the nutritionist’s last checkup.
She calculates the weight of the horses from a measurement around their girth using a proprietary Purina tape that shows the approximate weight associated with the number of inches. She also feels for their ribs and then assigns a score designating their overall condition.
The weight of two of the horses hasn’t changed and two have dropped a little but all of them scored well within the healthy guidelines.
She had no changes to recommend for the care and feeding we have been providing.
That’s a rewarding assessment to receive. In addition, it is always fun to hear people’s glowing opinions of Wintervale as a horse paradise. We’re definitely biased and agree emphatically with positive impressions but it is always reassuring to hear others verifying our sense of things.
After their visit, Cyndie and I headed to Tria Orthopedics in Stillwater for the two-week assessment of her two incisions. We were hoping for the removal of her stitches but just like a year ago, they decided to give it one more week for her skin to close more completely.
We did get to see the X-ray of her bones, post-surgery. Here is the before and after:
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It is easy to see the holes in her bones from the screws. With the plates and screws removed, Cyndie was already able to fit into a shoe and walked into the building for the appointment.
We are not bothered by needing to return in another week because it cuts any risk of complications from removing stitches too soon. At this point, the Athletic Trainer who looked at Cyndie’s ankle gave the healing scars a comforting level of approval.
Huzzah for healthy horses and healing incisions. We are basking in the happy vibrations of good results in both realms.
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Accepting Frustration
The feeling of frustration happens when I can’t control situations in the direction I wish for them to go. I am not a dog trainer and rarely succeed in influencing our dog, Asher, to behave in a way that will be convenient for me and safe for him. I found myself in that miserable place yesterday because of a flock of wild turkeys and a growing weariness from two weeks of being the sole person feeding horses and walking the dog.
We currently have a lot of activity around us tempting the poor dog to stray beyond our property lines. Corn fields on two sides of our property are being harvested and Asher finds the big machines and guys frequently walking between tractors and trucks very fascinating. Soon there will be deer hunters out in numbers.
For that reason, I can’t let him roam loose on walks around the property. Unfortunately, being leashed doesn’t always stop him from getting away from me. The urgency with which he bolts into tight squeezes between trees at the sight of a squirrel jars me off my feet and forces me to let go of the leash to save myself.
Not letting go of the leash is how Cyndie ended up breaking her ankle with Delilah a year ago.
After a very long time of allowing Asher to follow his nose and explore the far reaches of our property at will yesterday (sniffari), we stopped in the barn to tend to the horses. While they were gobbling feed, I decided to walk Asher up to the house. Without warning, he pulled me off balance around the corner of the garage. He flew over the large rocks by the front door and disappeared around the outside of the sunroom. I let go as my feet hit the biggest rock, sailing over it and landing in the yard on my stomach like a humiliated Superman fallen from flight.
That’s when I noticed a lot of big birds taking flight for treetops in the neighboring woods. I could hear the leaves crunching under Ashers’ bounding leaps but I couldn’t see him. By the time I made it back on my feet, it was all quiet and Asher and the turkeys were nowhere in sight.
I wanted to just wait for him to return but he was dragging a leash and the odds were high that he was going to get hung up in a tangled mess. I heard one distant bark that sounded like it could be his, so I set off on a search and rescue mission.
With occasional calls and whistles, I climbed toward a high ridge seeking the widest view and ultimately a farm road around the next field over. Soon after making my way out of the woods, I spotted Asher just as I feared, with the leash caught on a branch, passing through a rusty barbed wire fence, and wrapped twice around a small tree trunk.
Struggling to get him to walk straight home with me, I was in no mood to fight off my simmering frustration.
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There’s Hope
When I think about having a dog, my thoughts are filled with visions of a companion that hangs around while I am busy with outdoor tasks, alerts us when someone comes up the driveway, playfully interacts with us, and cuddles when we sit down to rest.
I don’t spend much time thinking about what it takes to reach that level of behavior, even though that is what I’m living through. For every time Asher actually returns to us when we call him, there are too many others when he ignores our commands to pursue his whims.
After the most recent time that he crossed the road again to explore the neighbor’s property and tangle with their cat, completely ignoring my calls and bribes to get him under control, he has had to endure being on a short leash 100% of the time. That’s not fun for either of us.
Of course, this occurs while Cyndie is still recuperating from ankle surgery, leaving me as the sole dog walker. I don’t enjoy the hassles but it will ultimately provide me the benefits of a developing relationship.
Last night, Asher provided me with hope with his willingness to snuggle.
This morning I let him roam for a bit, off-leash, on our way to the barn to feed the horses. He behaved well.
I’m hoping progress continues with a change toward more successes than failures as we work toward helping Asher become the companion we think he can be.
Snuggles are a pretty good start.
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Silly Victory
“I win.” Simple as that. When engaged in meaningless banter with Cyndie, particularly if my point has no basis for accuracy, I will swiftly blurt, “I win.” The debate is over.
Most accurate at that point of our back and forth is that I have totally lost. It served well for many years in introducing humor into our interactions but not so much anymore.
Pretending to win when you obviously haven’t isn’t funny after a certain grift leader managed to make it to the highest office in our country and then inspired his minions to violence in an attempt to keep his position.
One of the safeties of a home is the opportunity to be silly in ways that might come across poorly in public. [loud belch]
This morning, to occupy Asher’s mind for a moment of distraction, Cyndie assembled a hidden treat vessel from found materials. He would need to figure out a way to get to the delicious bites he could smell wrapped inside paper and resting in the 12 pockets of an egg carton.
I watched as he was trying to figure out how to open the carton, surprised that he didn’t just bite into it to rip it apart. As he picked up his head to see what Cyndie was doing, his paw rolled across the carton and it popped open. When he looked back down, there were all the wads of paper.
The exercise lasted maybe 5 minutes and certainly won’t help to discourage him from scrounging in our trash in the future, but it was something new and different to entertain his food-driven curiosity and distract from his whining for attention.
Even a mere five minutes of re-occupying his mind can feel like a silly victory sometimes.
“We win.”
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Nothing Particular
It’s been a quiet week in Lake Wintervale-be-gone. The only thing close to drama yesterday was a visit from Johanne, our handler from This Old Horse, delivering feed bags. I told her we still had ten bags left from the last time she delivered and inquired about how many she had brought this time.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I was talking with the person helping me load them and we didn’t count.”
She said a couple of pallets of bags had been set aside for her and she just took them all.
We moved all the bags from her truck to the pallet in our barn and counted them. Instead of the usual two-week supply, we now have enough for almost two months. I will let her know when we get down to a one-week supply so she can plan the next delivery.
This is all happening because they changed suppliers of the feed. I didn’t ask for any details or reasons for the switch, choosing to stay out of the business end of things. I’m more than happy to remain oblivious.
Cyndie is continuing to make good progress in taking care of her ankle and preventing excessive swelling. The two stitched wounds look good. She has an appointment next Tuesday to have the stitches removed. At this rate, we feel confident that the procedure should be able to happen right on schedule.
Asher seemed like he was seeking out more hands-on snuggling attention than usual after the previous day away from us where he was carousing with other canines. At the same time, I felt like he was also missing the companionship of other dogs.
No, we will not get another dog. Do not mention it.
Asher hasn’t been given much chance to add drama because I’m continuing to confine him to a leash after the neighbor had to call me to report his whereabouts. Firearm deer hunting season starts here next week, so he won’t be free-roaming again until that ends on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.
Another aspect of our quiet week is the calm weather we have been enjoying. That is, calm in terms of low precipitation and mild temperatures. With respect to airspeed, the wind has not been calm at all. I would say we have reached the point of no leaves left in the trees except for a few oaks that always hold them for most of the winter.
Oh, and I finished the 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle I’ve been assembling for about a week.
Honestly, that’s all I have to report. That’s it from Wintervale-be-gone, where the woman is strong, the man regular-looking, and the animals always above average. Peace, out.
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Road Hazards
In the country, finding domestic livestock on the wrong side of fences is not surprising. What is more remarkable is that it doesn’t happen more often. This time of year, the number of whitetail deer showing up along roadways gets the bulk of attention from drivers.
Deer carcasses from collisions with automobiles lie scattered along most roadways. During the rutting season, deer are more active during daylight hours. We have noticed two different bucks wandering the fields around our property.
Yesterday, a steer blocked my lane as I was returning from dropping Asher off at his play date and picking up groceries.
He decided to trot back to his pasture fence as I rolled closer to him. That enabled my car to pass without incident but it didn’t do anything toward getting him back on the correct side of that fence.
When I passed that pasture again on my way to pick Asher up later in the day, there was no sign of cattle anywhere. Maybe that one steer got them all shipped off to a rendering plant.
Don’t mess with that rancher.
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Looking Close
I woke early yesterday and snuck out the door in the dark while Asher was still in his overnight crate. My destination was the Subaru Dealership in the Cities where I bought my 2019 Crosstrek. It’s headed for the 80K mile mark soon and still had the original tires, or what was left of ‘em, anyway.
Today it has fresh tires, brakes, oil, and an air filter. It’s almost like a brand-new car.
Cyndie called in one of our pet sitters to take care of the dog and horses in my absence. It was like having a day off for me. Well, half a day. Upon my arrival home, Asher instantly wanted to rough-house and battle for his squeaky ball. Eventually, we headed out to feed the horses.
The barn was in perfect order. The only difference between the way I do things in the morning and the way our helper left it was a closed door where we usually leave the top half open during the day.
I found myself taking close-up photos while waiting for the horses to eat everything in their feed pans.
The wind was whipping up some ripples on the surface of the waterer.
Close inspection of some of the hay that was delivered to us last season reveals a lot of woody stems and a very bleached coloring. We’ve been mixing it with partial flakes from 30 bales we received from a different supplier. I’m guessing the difference is first-cut versus second or third-cut.
The horses are very skilled at not eating any hay they don’t like.
It’s a lot more like straw than hay. The horses just let it drop to the ground.
This morning, Asher gets a car ride to Hudson for a day of play with other canines. It’ll almost be like another day off for me, except I’ll be picking up Cyndie’s grocery order and hauling it into the house.
The latest update on Cyndie’s convalescence is all good one week after surgery. Maybe even ahead of schedule for what she was originally expecting. The swelling is under control and she is already moving around using only one crutch while controlling pain with nothing but over-the-counter acetaminophen.
She is doing well to keep herself at rest and icing and elevating her ankle regularly.
I’m hoping she will be able to get back in the action by the playoffs. Whoops. I mixed her surgery up with all the injuries happening in the NFL. Between concussions and ruptured Achilles, it seems like there is a risk of teams not being able to field enough backup players.
Here’s hoping Asher doesn’t pull a muscle racing around with other dogs on his play date today.
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List Making
Sometimes, it’s helpful to create a list, whether you need one or not.
- That look when a dog tilts its head.
- Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Bark with Almond, Pretzel & Sea Salt.
- Giggles from kids younger than 4.
- Eyeglasses that actually fit and correctly improve vision.
- Effective use of italics.
- Narrators with voices that sound comfortingly familiar.
- Thinking thoughts without perceiving them as [silently] spoken words.
- Knowing the difference between two similar things.
- Being on the safe side.
- LED light bulbs.
- Reading between the lines even when there are no spaces.
- Waiting for a ride.
- Shedding a tear at just the right moment.
- Always remembering to get to an appointment on time.
- Walking in late because there were no convenient parking spots.
- Cuff links.
- Answers to questions you were never asked.
- Jokes and riddles.
- Bullet points.
- Bonus points.
- Ball points.
- Insufficient segue logic.
- Candelabrum.
- Being reminded of something from the past of which you have no recollection.
- Forgetting the reason for making a list.
- Having so quiet a mind that nothing can be identified to add to a list.
- Emptying the garbage bin.
- Refusing to experiment with ChatGPT.
- Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
- Carrying your shoes, one in each hand.
- Super slow-motion replays.
- Poetry and song lyrics that are indistinguishable, one from the other.
- Unsolicited advice.
- Empathy.
- Comedy.
- Politicization of existential angst.
- Tenacity.
- Scratch paper.
- Wing nuts.
- Wing tips.
- Unfinished business.
- Final chapters.
- Feeling so much better after making a list.
I’m glad that’s over. Now I can get on with more important things. What was I going to do today? Oh, yeah… I’m going to spend too much money to get new tires on my Crosstrek. The car is approaching 80K miles on the original tires. Maybe if tires last that many miles, “too much money” is not a justifiable gripe.
It’s a luxury to have new tires compared to having everything I own turned to rubble by bombs of war. It is only because I am not living in a war zone that I can waste mental energy creating a seemingly purposeless list.
Throwing words and phrases, sometimes sentences, onto a list can be compared to an artist who creates paintings by randomly splashing colors onto a canvas.
Viewed from a certain angle, a person just might find a moment of resonance with the object, possibly even the creator.
If I were to make the list above again, I’d probably add:
- An audible heavy sigh.
inserted somewhere strategic. Whether it needs it or not.
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Appreciating Teamwork
Forgive me for a gushing sports fan post. I’m trying to learn how to fully appreciate the wins and my NFL team, the Minnesota Vikings pulled off a victory against a sequence of circumstances that appeared to doom their chances several times over. What stands out to me is that they didn’t give in when repeated misfortunes knocked them for a loop.
Our star quarterback suffered a season-ending Achilles injury in a game a week ago and his backup was inexperienced. The team traded for a quarterback with experience (Joshua Dobbs) but didn’t plan to use him until he had a week or two to learn the intricacies of the Vikings’ system.
Near the end of the first quarter in yesterday’s game, the first backup, who was playing respectably, scrambled toward the endzone and was tackled powerfully, resulting in him getting concussed. At that point, with our chances already suspect, it felt to this fan like all was doomed.
Thank goodness that isn’t the way the players and coaches interpreted things.
In came the guy they had just traded for. He hadn’t been around long enough to learn his new teammates’ names, let alone the custom play-calling language the Vikings use. Then he got sacked in the endzone for a two-point safety, followed by having the ball knocked out of his hands for a fumble.
Things just kept going from bad to worse. One of our big play receivers caught a long pass and was walloped in the helmet forcing him out of the game with a concussion.
This is where I am so impressed with how well the coaching staff –I think it starts at the top with the head coach, Kevin O’Connell– maintained poise and calmly guided the athletes toward opportunities to succeed.
Joshua Dobbs put in some impressive individual effort to scramble for big gains and throw key passes, but his success was made possible by critical blocking from the offensive linemen and essential plays by the entire defensive unit. Yesterday’s road game for the Vikings was an impressive display of teamwork in the way they dealt with adversity and ground out a victory against the odds.
I would have understood it if we had lost, and that makes the surprising win even more rewarding entertainment.
Now here is a “horse tax” in a nod toward readers less interested in the goings-on of an NFL franchise…
Speaking of teamwork, our horses, Swings, and Light often team up to eat from one feed pan at the same time.
The thing is, Swings tends to pick her head up to chew between bites and feed pellets leak out of her mouth and rain down on Light’s head.
It’s cute because Light appears totally oblivious. Sometimes I think Swings knows what she is doing. A passive aggressive way of suggesting Light might rather go back and eat from her own pan. Is that a form of teamwork?
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