Developing Patience
If you aren’t sure you have as much patience as you should for dealing with life’s challenges, get a “teen” puppy that needs to be trained. You will be able to practice over and over on developing your ability to be patient.
Asher had a grooming appointment yesterday and the report from the groomer was that he was so dirty she needed to wash him a second time. He’s like a whole new dog. Except for the lack of training. That’s at about the same level.
Although, on the bright side, he is showing signs of being relatively quick to grasp what we want from him. Progress on the “Stay!” command continues to impress us. I don’t expect we will make impressive headway on more than one thing at a time so convincing him that our bed is off-limits will have to wait. He really likes to jump up on our bed.
Even though he could easily defeat our temporarily leaned gates to keep him out of the kitchen or our bedroom, he is respecting them and will eventually lay beside them and wait. I guess he is showing us he’s got some respectable patience of his own.
We did battle against some insanely intense vines that were choking out every helpless tree they could reach.
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The tree above was trying to grow despite the constriction of the vine. I don’t know what kind of vine this is but it is different than the common grape vines around here that sprout little shoots to wrap around branches. This vine just grows around and around so efficiently that it is the wrap that holds tight to branches. In springtime, it is much easier to spot these vines before leaves pop out everywhere to conceal what is really going on.
I need to work on my patience for rooting out the infestations of these insidious vines even though it seems like a losing battle.
I wonder if Asher could be trained to sniff them out. I’ve seen evidence he is more than capable of digging ’em up if we can just locate the main roots.
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Finding Fun
I wish I could say it’s all fun and games having a new “teen” pup that has found himself in an unfamiliar environment. At times Asher behaves like a big goof, but he is also a product of having needed to fend for himself to find food to eat in his earliest days. Left unchecked, he quickly resorts to searching for anything edible. Asher’s body is long and that means that when he stands on his hind legs, he is tall.
Nothing on our counters is safe from his reach, and at this point, he has not learned any self-control that would keep him from taking ill-advised risks to reach potentially edible rewards. We are being tested on every decision we make. To free ourselves from being constantly on guard, we have to think ahead and put up timely barriers to confine Asher to a safe space when we can’t be giving our full attention to his activities.
Still, there has been plenty of fun to be had.
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He is proving to be a good on-leash walker and only chewed through the leash one time while Cyndie was distracted with digging up invasive garlic mustard plants. He played well on the zip line in the backyard and rolled around in smelly leaves on one of our walks.
While on the phone to register ourselves as the owners who adopted Ash, Cyndie learned the paperwork indicated the dog was given his name because he was found on Ash Road. Ash R. I like that we will be going with the name, Asher.
The other names most often used yesterday were, Down and No.
Cyndie made great progress in teaching Asher to stay until she says he can release. We want to teach him that we go through the door first and then he can follow, and that exercise will go much more smoothly when he understands and obeys the “Stay!” command from which we could proceed.
Meanwhile, the horses are having fun because we have been opening up the hay field to them again during the daytime.
They had been confined to the paddocks for a few weeks awaiting the fields to get dryer and the grass to get taller. On the occasion of their first tall grass on Monday, they barely stepped through the gate before stopping to graze. Yesterday, I noticed they were walking a little further in, but it wasn’t all about grazing. They showed an interest in taking some serious naps in the grass under the bright sunshine.
My presence with the chainsaw didn’t ruffle them one bit. I needed to cut up a large dead limb that had fallen from the ailing willow tree in the small paddock. While I had the saw out, there were three fallen trees across trails in the woods and one other leaner in the woods between the house and the shop that I was able to clean up. Then it was time to unload new hay bales and stack them in the hay shed.
It was fun to get some productive work done between the sessions of fun with Mr. Hey-Play-With-Me-Some-More.
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Training Begins
First of all, yesterday’s antics dealing with our first day introducing Asher to our house and property were more tiring than I’m used to lately. Thankfully, it was all good. Asher’s energy is overflowing with playfulness and happy curiosity. Our reference for every situation quickly defaults to the way Delilah behaved differently. We discovered several things that Asher wants to do that Delilah never showed any interest in, like getting up on our bed.
The couch was allowed at his foster home.
We are leaning toward discouraging couch access and hope to hold out entirely against allowing him on our bed. Both Cyndie and I are wrestling over our tendency to refer to Asher with feminine pronouns after our ten years with Delilah. Maybe we should just switch to the non-binary alternatives.
He showed normal curiosity about our explorations on the trails in our woods. We very quickly discovered his ability to dig is magnitudes beyond what we were used to with Delilah. Three quick strokes created a massive canyon in the dirt. Asher dug up several old bones that Delilah had buried in and around the outdoor kennel.
Pulled from his usual surroundings to a world where every sight and sound was brand new, we were unsuccessful in even coming close to getting him to process and obey a “STAY!” command. Asher did great on the zip line in the backyard. He LOVES to play ball and is a great catcher. He got me laughing over the way he would nudge the ball with his nose so it would roll to me as a way to get me to play with him.
Ash showed little in the way of interest in the horses. They were more curious about the new canine leading us around than he was about them. Our treks through the woods revealed several new tree tops that have broken off and fallen to the ground. Yesterday was very windy. Today we may need to learn whether Asher is bothered by the noise a chainsaw makes.
The foster mom warned us he is not a fan of the vacuum.
Whether we intend it or not, training is already underway. It will be a contest to see if Asher is training us more than we are training him. The official obedience classes don’t start for a couple of weeks. Helping him to master the “STAY!” command before then would be a big surprise.
Last night before we retired to our bedroom, we heard a couple of snores coming from his crate. A wonderful end to a super first day.
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Tried Telling
It’s difficult to tell how much the horses grasp the variety of things I find myself trying to say to them. Yesterday I decided to give them a little warning about the pending arrival of a new dog who will be living on the property.
Swings behaved as though she just didn’t want to hear it.
Light remained entirely indifferent to my words.
Mia didn’t look away but she didn’t seem happy to hear anything I had to say.
Mix was too preoccupied with finishing her dinner to participate in my attempts at communicating news about Ash.
Cyndie and I were talking about what nicknames might evolve from such a short name as Ash. One way to play with a name that is too short to trim into a nickname is to lengthen it instead. Our son, Julian, suggested “Ashford.” We like that a lot. Cyndie is prone to adding “bert,” as in Dogbert. Ashbert? I’m okay saying that.
I have come up with Asher. That’s one that we both feel could work for us. We just need to find out what the pup thinks about it.
A little research last night has us thinking the mix of breeds that visually matches his features and coloring are German Shepherd, Labrador Retriever, and/or Rottweiler. The mash of breed names becomes Sheprador based on the images Cyndie found that looked most similar to Ash.
All our wondering about what is to come will soon be replaced by real experiences. Today is the beginning of our next adventure of having a new dog. Huzzah!
Bark! Bark!
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CSI Wintervale
The only crime to report lately is mud shrapnel showing up inside the house. This spring, it hasn’t happened as often as it used to. The primary traffic in and out of our house has been limited to just Cyndie and me. That is about to change with the plan to adopt Ash, a rescued Shepherd Mix. More mud in the house will be a small price to pay.
Cyndie recently showed me her solution for leaving her boots on while retrieving something from inside the house for a project we were working on outside.
Looked like crime scene booties to me. The tedious hassle of getting in and out of boots for a quick indoor trip finally drove her to bag the boots and forge ahead. Works in a pinch but I don’t think it will be the solution for having a dog living with us again.
Time to get the kiddy pool set up by the front door.
Yesterday, we brought Delilah’s crate in from the garage and set it up beneath the spiral staircase, trying two different orientations before settling on the way we had it before. We have been wracking our brains to remember how and why we chose to do things the way we did ten years ago when we brought Delilah home for the first time. We share a common yearning to catch things we might have done, or conversely, failed to do, toward establishing rules and a firm command of desired behaviors in our pet.
What would we like to do differently from the way we attempted to train Delilah to become her best self? We think there is room for improvement.
Our appointment to pick up Ash is set for tomorrow morning. Cyndie has registered for a class of obedience training for him that will start in a couple of weeks.
It would be a crime if we miss the earliest opportunity to train Ash to achieve the best-behaved potential his mixed breed is capable of after the rough start he may have experienced before rescue. The only obvious issue when he first arrived at his current foster home was food aggression related. Since we don’t have any other house pets right now, that won’t be a big struggle for us at the start.
One of my favorite behaviors Delilah mastered was her patient and reliably obedient adherence to waiting in a designated “Place” until a release command allowed her to approach her bowl of food. I fumble around with a desire to have a dog that behaves with a military level of discipline without us being good at establishing a military level of training.
Despite ever reaching the ultimate level of control we both would have appreciated having with Delilah, Cyndie and I achieved enough success teaching her that we are hopeful for that much and more with Ash. We look forward to discovering what differences his personality will bring to the process.
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Meeting Ash
A gray, chilly, rainy day that started out somber ended on a much happier note. Cyndie and I took care of the horses early yesterday and then dressed up and drove off for Fort Snelling National Cemetery to join her family at the memorial service for her uncle, Jon Brolin. It was a first for me. I had driven past the cemetery many times but never been amidst the rows upon rows of repeating identical headstones. That alone is a powerful thing.
In what felt like a scene in a movie, we stood protected from the spitting rain beneath a gazebo roof as veterans performed the rituals of saluting, gunshots, the mournful sound of taps, and the excruciatingly precise folding of the U.S. flag.
“On behalf of a grateful nation…”
Jon was a Marine who served during the Korean War.
After a precious few hours with the family at the reception following the service, Cyndie and I set off on a new adventure. We were going to meet a Shepherd Mix named, Ash who is just over a year old and currently being fostered in Stillwater, MN.
Last week, Cyndie asked me why I didn’t want to get another dog. I think I probably talked for three minutes straight listing all the reasons I could think of against owning a dog again at this time. She listened patiently to everything I said and politely acknowledged all my points. Then she told me, with her voice breaking in grief over her still raw emotions over Delilah’s passing, why she felt the need for the companionship of another loving canine.
In fact, she had found a Shepherd Mix pup that was up for adoption from the rescue organization where we had donated food after Delilah’s death. Ash needed a forever home. Cyndie read me the details about Ash, including a description of him that had been written by the foster mom. There wasn’t a single thing that I found concerning.
At that moment, all of the reasons I had articulated seconds earlier about not having a dog melted away.
I wanted to meet Ash.
We weren’t disappointed. Ash was everything we expected.
I think we can give Ash the home he deserves with the parenting he needs and years of companionship from which we all will benefit.
Since Cyndie had recruited coverage for our horses for the rest of the day, we took advantage of the freedom to have dinner at a Stillwater restaurant after we visited Ash at his foster home. After a quick phone search of options, Cyndie selected MatchStick Restaurant & Spirits. What a treat! Every bite was a delight of fabulous flavors, including the best cedar-plank salmon I ever tasted and the most enjoyable caramelized Brussel sprouts in a Thai peanut sauce.
While we were luxuriating in the pleasures of fantastic food, we pondered the fact that Cyndie noticed a car in front of us on our drive to Fort Snelling with “ASH” on its license plate, after which we found ourselves sprinkling flower petals over the urns of her aunt and uncle’s ashes.
We feel like bringing this endearing pup into our lives is what we are going to do.
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Spring Projects
We are certainly giving a lot of attention to our labyrinth to have it ready for visitors on May 6th, but several other projects need timely attention. Spring growth does not wait for any of us. Raspberry canes are sprouting new leaf buds already. The red raspberry patch at the bottom of our backyard hill was munched by deer last year so Cyndie wanted to take a stab at protecting the plants in advance this year.
We wrapped up the patch after we finished installing the water pump in our landscape pond beside the back deck.
If you look closely at that image, the fenced raspberry patch is visible in the background. I made myself embarrassingly proud over a little trick I devised to successfully close the filter box for the pond pump so it was leak-tight on the very first try. The groove for the rubber gasket that seals the container is not deep enough to hold the gasket in place. The gasket needs to be stretched to fit. It’s a recipe for endless frustration. I know from experience.
Every year I have tried different techniques to get the cover on in a way that will slide the last portion of the gasket into the groove for the clamp to fit. If I’m off even an imperceptible amount: water leaks. Some years I get lucky and get it in two tries. In a bad year, maybe five tries. This year, I cut a six-inch piece of a few strands of polypropylene bale twine and wrapped it around the gasket. With the cover on and most of the gasket seated, I slide the strands of twine along, pulling the last portion of the gasket into the groove.
The cover dropped flush against the base and we tightened up the clamp. First-time success. I should have thought of this trick a long time ago. I asked Cyndie where I should store the precious bit of twine strands so that we could find them again next year. We both quickly agreed that I could toss them and simply cut new strands next time they are needed. Another good use for old bale twine.
Another thing we have been reusing over and over around our property is the webbed fence material that has at times been used to keep domestic animals contained and other times to keep wild animals out. The raspberry patch wasn’t the only spot we finished yesterday. Cyndie’s ever-expanding strawberry garden received a new border fence for a start.
When the fruit begins to appear, she will take the barrier to another level, seeking to slow down the always-interested squirrels and birds with a netting drape over the top.
I was asked to use the power trimmer to clear growth in the area of Cyndie’s vegetable garden. That little Stihl small gas engine fired up on my first try. Then it was down to the labyrinth to rake and spread wood chips.
We are full-on in spring projects mode and the progress thus far feels very rewarding. Almost as if we are actually keeping up with growing things.
As if.
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Good Boots
Good boots have become a priority for me outdoors on our property. If boots never wore out, I would be set, but the heavy use I subject them to tends to damage a boot’s ability to perform as desired. Waterproof features rarely hold up against repeated exposure to abuse and aftermarket sprays to reclaim the protection hold up even less. If the sole doesn’t separate from the upper then constant flexing will crack and tear across the width, just behind the toes.
Since I am stepping in and out of my boots frequently throughout the day, I usually avoid laces. My previous favorites were an insulated (for winter) and a non-insulated (summer) mid-height slip-on from North Face. They no longer make the version I love, which I bought twice online in the past, so I decided to start over from scratch and search for a replacement.
Shopping for a different kind of boot made me nervous about getting a good fit if I order online. Searching by images, several times the boots that caught my eye were made by Georgia Boots. I checked for a retailer that carried them and up popped Tractor Supply, my new favorite farm store.
Unfortunately, my store in Prescott, WI didn’t stock the slip-on I was hoping to check out. The only boots they had that closely matched what I was looking for were lace-ups. Two things led me toward my latest prized pair. I found something in my size marked down on the Clearance shelf and the top two lace catches were hook-type. (An added bonus was being able to have steel toe protection.)
Long ago I figured out a method to avoid always tying laces on boots with hooks. I get them snugged up and knot the laces, then simply unhook the top two catches without untying the knots when I step out of the boots. The next time I put on my boots, I simply reverse the procedure by stepping into the boot and twisting the already-tied laces over the upper hooks. Bing. Bang. Boom.
In picking my new Georgia Boots, I was hoping my old hook-loop lace securing technique would still prove functional. The gamble paid off. My quick-release laces are working grand. It broke my heart to so quickly subject my new boots to the worst mud of the season, but they have performed magnificently from the start.
They no longer look like new but my Georgia Boots are a wonderful replacement for my old cracked favorites from North Face.
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Yes Mow
While I firmly agree with the philosophy of “No Mow May,” for our labyrinth, yesterday was Yes-Mow-April. Even though there was one area that remained surprisingly saturated to the point of being ill-advised, the rest was good and held up well to the inaugural cut of the season.
This is the first time we have been in a position where we could get ahead of the growth before it got out of control and that feels wonderful. The labyrinth is looking the best it has ever looked at this time of year and is just lacking the growth of new shoots and fresh leaves on all the plants to reach its most impressive appearance.
As long as I was doing some mowing, I couldn’t help pulling out my newest addition to our battery-powered landscape management tools, the zero-turn mower. I had already driven the mower around enough to realize it would take me some time to master the nuances of operating the independent drive wheels by separate levers but I had yet to actually cut any grass with it.
I should probably make a sign for the mower that says, “Student Driver.”
Navigation in close quarters, say, along the wall of the barn or beside a fence, is fraught with uncertainty. My hasty reactions to correct my heading tends to be wrong, leading to hapless attempts to counter the mistake with overcorrections that exacerbate the misdirection. Holding anything close to a straight path is a worthy victory for me. It will take time to figure out how the 360° rotation of the front wheels ends up contributing to my difficulty in maneuvering.
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There are some new skid marks in the turf where I struggled to turn around on a slope where the earth beneath the grass was soft and wet. That’s a cost I must bear for being too eager to cut before the ground is truly dry. This year I just seem uncharacteristically eager to get the first mowing done before the grass gets overly tall.
Future occasions will only get better as I gain experience and the ground becomes more firm. At the rate this spring weather is struggling to pull away from winter, firmer ground may not happen for many weeks. I may rely on the trusty push mower to do much of the cutting while the soil beneath the turf remains more like Jello® than normal dirt.
Or, I could simply adhere to the directives of “No Mow May.”
Naaaaah.
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Overnight Success
It was a treat to find obvious evidence yesterday morning that at least one of the horses took advantage of the new surface to rub against.
It sure is nice when a plan works out just as we hoped.
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Relative Something 