Not Solved
It was probably wishful thinking on my part to believe the barking dog issue was permanently solved.
3 a.m.
4 a.m.
5 a.m.
Then it stopped. In my semi-conscious wish to be still asleep, I imagined maybe the closer neighbor had reached their limit and called for official intervention in the predawn darkness when spiders are manically spinning spectacular orb webs.
At 6:11, it started again. Poor dog. Doesn’t take a breath between yips anymore. Just constantly screams for something.
If the cops got them to bring the dog inside, it only lasted for a short time after they’d left. Of course, this is all my addled, sleep-interrupted mind making up one scenario. It’s equally possible the dog just got tired and shut up for a spell.
Since we live out of sight from the source of this angst, I don’t have a vision of where this dog is located while endlessly yapping for attention.
In supreme contrast, I walked pleasantly with Asher through our woods and on to the barn, where the horses were serene as could be. They appear to find the new senior feed much to their liking compared to the corn and oats that were being served prior. We have completed the transition, and they get 100% processed pellets.
They gobble it up much more quickly, licking the buckets clean and spilling much less on their placemats.
We are looking forward to having less “food” lying all around for the critter pests that consider the area around the overhang to be their free buffet.
The senior feed looks to be a change that does solve at least a couple of issues for us. The distant neighbor’s barking dog problem remains a work in progress.
.
.
Barking Dog
After multiple nights and too many mornings of an unhappy dog endlessly barking somewhere in our valley, it was quiet last night. Was it something I did that finally brought peace? Possibly.
Due to a variety of weather conditions, the sound of the barking changed a few times between seeming far away and almost within our property border. Asher got worked up several times in the night, barking back from his bedtime crate.
Yesterday morning, I walked to the corner of our property to get a better read on where the barking was coming from. I deduced it was a property on the other side of the road, between two closer neighbors whom Cyndie and I had initially suspected.
It occurred to me that there was a possibility the owner could need help, and the dog was sounding an alarm. Cyndie and I talked about asking the Sheriff for a welfare check at the home.
At the same time, I felt some responsibility to check ourselves before involving the police. Cyndie decided to drive by the property and possibly stop in to talk with them directly. She returned with a report that the place didn’t look the least bit inviting and there was nobody out and about. She chose not to pull into their driveway.
I verified the address of the place and then found a phone number for one of the people who live across the road from there. The neighbor acknowledged the problem property but didn’t have any relationship with the owner either. The barking had kept them from sleeping well for several nights and they had already reported it to the Sheriff’s office once.
I sympathized with their plight, because if it was bothering us on the far side of the valley, it must be exponentially worse for them to listen to the unhappy dog constantly barking. She encouraged me to add my complaint to the Sheriff at the non-emergency number.
The dispatcher was very nice about gathering as much information as necessary and then confirmed she found a record of previous complaints. She assured me an officer would stop by to make a welfare check on the dog and the property owner.
It’s funny, but after the call, I found myself hoping the dog would keep barking so the deputy would hear the problem. I conveyed to the dispatcher that there are moments of quiet between the long periods of barking that have been carrying on into the nights and early mornings for more than three days.
The only evidence I have that my call might have led to a solution is the blissful peace and quiet that commanded the evening as darkness settled over our valley last night. The lack of barking made it a lot easier for me to hear the owls conversing in the woods around our house.
Here’s hoping the dog and owner are both okay and that something good will come from this for everyone who has been coping with it for days.
.
.
Horse Care
One of my favorite sightings these days is finding horses taking advantage of the shade sail shadow. More often than not, it will be Mia positioning herself wherever the shade falls.
She’s no dummy. That, and the fact that the other three generally disrespect her, so that she has a habit of making her own space wherever they are not. Still, there are also plenty of times lately when I have seen her standing nose to nose with the herd, so the animosity among them is not absolute.
I haven’t noticed many times when they have all decided to hang out under the sail, but this summer we haven’t had many periods of oppressively hot days. They are all aware of the option, and I’m sure they will make use of it when it suits them.
Yesterday, we interviewed a second person from UWRF who spotted Cyndie’s notice on the job board. I tend to align with the belief that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. In this case, the something is a person, and her personality and experience appear to be ideal for our needs.
The only risk I sense initially is that our one dog and four horses will be too simple for her, which isn’t all bad. She described having taken care of a LOT more animals, large and small.
One of the difficulties we have encountered with students from the University is how busy their schedules can be, making it hard to find someone available to help us when an unexpected need arises. By interviewing multiple candidates, Cyndie hopes to expand the number of animal sitters from which we can choose.
Finding energetic young people who have grown up owning horses, are currently eager to earn money to pay for school, and are only 10 miles away from us is a blessing that relieves the burden of worry about the care of our rescued animals when we are away from home.
Occasionally, we have had volunteers help out through This Old Horse, but paid sitters add a level of coverage that allows us to plan more outings with greater certainty.
We are excited about both the recent “applicants” and are hopeful about building a relationship that proves beneficial for all of us in the near future. It’s so great to meet people who are as fascinated with horses as we are.
.
.
Mirrored Hearts
Progress on the set of mirrored hearts from the oak branch I cut with the bandsaw has come close to even between the two. I’ve never worked on two pieces at the same time like this, so it is a new challenge for me to switch back and forth as the shapes become more refined.
I’m not fully satisfied with either one enough to move from shaping to the highly polished finish sanding that I like to do, but I’m getting close.
On the second heart, I worked initially to shape it with my mini-grinder that has a flexible shaft with sandpaper sleeves that fit over an inflatable drum. It definitely speeds up progress, but doesn’t allow the level of control I prefer, so I soon switched back to hand sanding.
It’s always hard for me to decide I am done shaping, so in this situation, it is doubly hard. I can always find something about the shape I’d like to tweak a little more to get it just right. As a result, pieces never feel completed. Doing two at once is definitely compounding this dilemma for me.
I really like that they are mirrors of each other, and as such, would like them to end up very similar in size, as well. It will be a struggle for me to allow for more than a little variation, but I need to be realistic about it. Thinking about each one as a unique heart will help me to go with the flow of however the ultimate dimensions happen to work out.
The ideal shape is there within each piece. I just need to be patient while letting each one be slowly revealed to me.
.
.
Animal Escapades
I don’t think I’ve written much about the success we’ve been having with Asher mostly staying in contact with us when we let him be off-leash outside. We’ve been training him with an e-collar, but I don’t think he is as influenced by the collar so much as he’s just maturing and becoming ever more aware of our routine and understanding our property boundaries.
He is frequently content to sit and watch the scenes across our landscape, taking in all the scents that pass his way.
Yesterday, he was taking a particular interest in the horses. I looked up from a project I was working on when I heard the thundering sound of hooves and caught a glimpse of Mix running in from the hay field.
Asher didn’t even twitch. He just watched her approach. I don’t know what got into Mix, but she then ran right back out again. It was as if she just wanted the exercise, but I knew that wasn’t true.
Although, she did then run right back in one more time. That was too much for Asher. He jumped up and ran to the paddock fence to meet her energy. Of course, he didn’t have any plan once he got there. They just stood for a moment, looking at each other with blank expressions.
Meanwhile, the other horses showed no concern for the excitement and stayed up on the high spot of the hay field, calm as ever.
At one point, Mia lay down to nap. As soon as she was done, Swings took a turn.
It was a humid day that had started out foggy. We had received over two-and-a-half inches of rain overnight from a very raucous thunderstorm. Other than the weird burst of running from Mix, the animals all seemed unfazed by the weather.
Mix had been a little gimpy for the last week, and Cyndie has been giving her something for pain relief. I wondered if the running was because she was feeling better. Later, I decided that wasn’t the case because it looked like the running might have left Mix feeling a little more achy than before.
Maybe Asher wanted Mix to stop running around because he realized she might hurt herself if she kept it up. Mix is the youngest in the herd, so it seems odd to have her appear the least comfortable.
We are in the process of slowly transitioning from feeding the horses grains to giving them a manufactured “Senior Feed.” I don’t think Light likes it. She has been dumping a lot of the feed out of her bucket in apparent frustration. Last night, both Cyndie and I noticed an audible increase in gut sounds in all four of the horses.
I think the new feed is giving them rumbly tummies.
Asher doesn’t seem to mind the change. He tries eating what they spill, regardless of what it is. When he refuses to obey the “Leave it!” command, he ends up back on a leash in the barn. We are disinclined toward using the e-collar to train for those violations.
We reserve that for more serious escapades.
.
.
Officially Autumn
At approximately 1:19 p.m. CDT today, the sun crosses the celestial equator, marking the autumnal equinox for the Northern Hemisphere. Shorter days and longer nights become the reality around here for the next three months. In addition to the noticeable change in sunrise and sunset times, we are finding that the hummingbirds are becoming scarce, and box elder bugs are appearing in giant globs in spots of warm sunlight.
Yesterday, we found a batch of ten or fifteen Monarch Butterflies hanging around in our north loop field.
Only one of which I was able to fit in the frame of this photo. Might they be amassing before a migratory journey?
Some of our trees are actually beginning to show a little color. Fall is officially here. Have they broken out the pumpkin spice yet? Oh, yeah. That happened in August. Well, now I suppose Christmas-themed advertising will be starting soon, if it hasn’t already. We don’t get much exposure to ads these days.
I look forward to discovering how soon the grass will stop growing for the season. In the good old days, I was able to put away lawn mowers when fall arrived. Now, mowing in October is no longer an unlikely occurrence.
Time will tell. Today, I have a lot of grass that needs cutting. I’ll wave goodbye toward the sun as the afternoon hour of the equinox blows past.
.
.
Following Through
After writing my thoughts yesterday about protecting the small volunteer Cedar tree from the risk of having its main leader chewed off by deer, I figured it would be prudent to follow through without procrastinating. It’s funny how simple it can be to take action, yet my natural inclination aligns more with not doing things until action cannot be avoided.
The first thing I did after breakfast was to gather the materials and install a protective fence around the little tree. Now I will have a good reference for measuring how much height it gains in the next growing season. The other volunteer Cedar tree located on the far end of that field is about twice the size of this one. It’s big enough that it doesn’t need protection.
While in that field, taking care of desirable trees, I spotted three invasive common buckthorn trees that quickly became the focus of my next efforts. Two of them had obviously been cut before and were now more like a bush. I should have done this in the first place, but this time I went to get tools to dig the roots up and eradicate the nuisances once and for all.
The third troublemaker turned out to be a female with berries. I don’t know how it went unnoticed until now, except maybe because it was in the middle of a significant poison ivy area. I forged in there regardless and dug up the plant roots and any poison ivy shoots tangled within.
I’ll find out tomorrow whether I washed away any oils thoroughly enough to prevent a rash.
Two more highlights of the day involved an interview with a potential new animal sitter and then a dinner out with family to celebrate Julian’s birthday.
We got a nibble from a post Cyndie put on a job board at the University of Wisconsin, River Falls. There are students studying to become Veterinary Technicians who are perfect candidates for taking care of horses.
The woman we met yesterday is also a skilled softball player, so we will need to work around practices and the schedule for that sport if she chooses to help us out this year.
For dinner, Cyndie found a gem of a restaurant in Stillwater with a lean toward a Greek menu that none of us had known about before. Phil’s Tara Hideawy is a little off the main drag and looks like a rather unassuming log lodge from the road.
Once inside, it was bustling with energy and very busy. We were wise to have made reservations. The food was delicious and plentiful. After sharing three appetizers, we all had leftovers of our entrees to bring home afterwards.
It was a wonderful place for celebrating another family milestone and sharing memories of our years gone by.
.
.
Helping Trees
With the intense growth of summer beginning to wane just a little, we can better see into the woods to spot vines that are climbing our trees and uproot them. This week, we have been noticing them while walking Asher in the morning and pausing only briefly to tend to one or two near the trail. It tells me that the chore deserves a more focused trek through the woods to address any less obvious others away from the trail.
I’ve also been thinking about the young volunteer trees we discovered growing in our north loop field, and wanting to check on them. I did a little research on ways to best help young trees and found that nurturing root growth with water and mulch was a frequent suggestion. This gave me a fresh use for the composted manure stockpile I’ve been wanting to distribute.
After a recent turning of an old pile, I was thrilled to see the temperature had climbed back to over 150°F in the middle, indicating the microbial breakdown activity was far from complete.
The piles that are no longer cooking need to be distributed to make space for the daily new loads cleaned out of the paddocks. I decided to haul some up to use around the base of the young trees in the north loop field.
The first thing I discovered is that the poison ivy in that field is spreading farther and farther away from the spot where it was originally established. The second thing I found was that there are little oak trees showing up all over the place.
There are so many that I gave up trying to put mulch around all of them. Some trees will just have to fend for themselves. We get a fair amount of pressure from deer in that field, and I’ve known that young trees are all at risk of getting munched on, but since there are so many things growing there, I’m willing to sacrifice a few for occasional deer treats.
Among all the grasses and weeds growing around and over the volunteer oak trees popping up, there are also a few pine trees, many poplars, and two specific known cedar trees. I trudged back and forth many times in search of the smaller of the two cedars, using a huge pine tree as a reference.
It was hiding well, but when I finally came upon it, I was standing right where I thought it would be.
It doesn’t look much taller than it was last year when we first found it. It remains at risk of getting chomped. That might be enough to inspire me to offer it a little protection, since I’m fond of the added species variety it brings us.
Gotta protect the top as much as the roots down below!
.
.
Not Colorful
The leaves are changing, but not into the glorious reds, yellows, and oranges one expects in the fall. No, this year we are getting a predominant dose of browns.
I don’t know if it’s due to dry conditions or something else, but trees that have been brilliant in past autumns are simply transitioning to shriveled brown leaves this year.
It’s hardly the glorious spectacle we wanted when Cyndie and I chose September to be our wedding month. That just so happened to occur 44 years ago on this exact date. I believe we had a fair amount of color in the trees in 1981. I don’t think I paid a lot of attention to the fall colors, what with my beautiful bride commanding all of my focus that day.
Seven years after that, our son, Julian, was born on the same day as our anniversary. So today is a day of celebration in the Hays family. Tonight, Cyndie and I have reservations at the Shady Grove restaurant, about 4 minutes away from our house. Tomorrow, we meet our kids for dinner in Stillwater to toast Julian.
Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some colorful trees on our drive along the St. Croix River.
It’s a Happy Birthniversary Day!
.
.
Plant Fireworks
I have probably posted on this subject multiple times in September over the years. I didn’t go back to check. This is the time of year when our Variegated Japanese Silver Grass bursts forth with seeds.
It reminds me of fireworks popping open in the sky.
I moved in for a closer look.
Those kinky waves resemble a few hairstyles I’ve seen.
Meanwhile, the willow tree in the paddock that should be dead has made it through the summer looking pretty damn good.
I don’t know how it is feeding those leaves because the horses have chewed the trunk and the exposed roots to shreds.
Nature is mysterious and fascinating.
For the record, the maple tree we transplanted to the center of the labyrinth eight years ago is still dead. I have tried not to dwell on it, but the frustration continues to simmer under my surface. In order to avoid dealing with it, I haven’t touched it all summer. Part of me wondered if the roots would try to sprout new growth at the base. Another part of me is waiting to see if a mushroom fungus will appear on the dead wood. I’ll take anything at this point that would make some sense.
Speaking of the labyrinth, we haven’t put a lot of energy into it this summer, and when I mowed it the last time, I found myself wondering if there might be another way to define the path. The rocks we chose have two primary shortcomings. The ground tends to swallow them, and weeds grow up around them that the mower can’t reach.
It’s a little intimidating to imagine reworking the entire length of pathway borders to a completely different structure. I originally envisioned more of a low rock wall than what we have now, or something resembling a wall to define the path. It would look really cool to get to that level, but we have barely collected enough rocks to fill the pattern with one rock after another.
We would need a lot more rocks than we currently have, and a low wall wouldn’t preclude weeds from still growing up among the rocks. For now, we carry on as is and wait for new inspiration to strike.
Maybe a new idea might burst forth like exploding fireworks in the night sky.
.
.
Relative Something 