Posts Tagged ‘Asher’
Living Good
This weekend, I am home alone with our animals while Cyndie is up at the lake place with friends. I’ve only lost track of Asher twice so far while I have been tending to the horses or mowing some grass. After walking to the house across the road up the hill, around our home, and up and down our driveway without finding him, I went back to what I was doing, and he showed up soon after both times.
I’m claiming, “no harm, no foul.”
We are getting along like a couple of guys home alone for the weekend. He lets me watch football games with the sound on too loud, and I have been keeping him entertained with his squeaky chew toys and Kong balls.
We both have taken naps.
The weather has been about as fine as September can offer, making it a joy to be outside, and as I mentioned yesterday, the horses have been looking as calm and contented as ever.
This morning, Asher hung around the barn the whole time while I went through the usual routine, cleaning up after and feeding the herd.
We are enjoying the good life for the moment. It’s what all creatures crave, no?
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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.
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Brothers All
In a single day, we were with all of Cyndie’s brothers as well as her mom yesterday. We started the day with Barry and Carlos in Maine and then had dinner in St. Paul, Minnesota, with the rest of the clan for Marie’s 88th birthday celebration.
The snapshot above is a photo I took when Barry was showing Cyndie where the many volunteer shoots of birch trees were available for pulling. Why would she pull up their baby birch trees?
Never one to be intimidated by logical limitations about packing live plants in a plastic bread bag to stuff into an already full carry-on bag that gets crammed below the seat in front of her on an airplane, Cyndie brought home trees from the garden in Maine to plant somewhere around Wintervale.
I will not fixate on the long odds for her success, but instead plan to help scout out a new location where we can nurse the new transplants toward some percentage of actually surviving.
After hugging Barry and Carlos one last time as we dropped them off at their condo, we returned the wildebeest to the car rental company and boarded a shuttle headed toward our gate. Have I mentioned how much I would prefer to avoid air travel?
Mike got a ping on his phone about a delay in our flight home. As he attempted to navigate the information on the app, Barb’s and his tickets mysteriously disappeared. Cyndie still had our boarding pass screens on her phone, so Mike called the Delta service for preferred customers to work on solving the mystery.
It was a good thing we had arrived with time to spare, because it took a nerve-wrackingly long time to fix whatever had just gone wrong. In the end, their seats were re-established, and we were safe to proceed. However, the flight delay remained, and we lost precious time on our tight schedule to leave Boston and get home in time for dinner with the family members who would be gathering to celebrate Marie’s birthday.
We got to our car in St. Paul roughly a half-hour after the time of our reservation at Holman’s Table restaurant. Luckily, we were only 15 minutes away. Our daughter, Elysa, texted that the appetizers were just arriving at their table.
We showed up before they had even given their dinner orders. A family birthday celebration for the matriarch is a pretty special finish to our adventures of the previous week.
Some silliness ensued. Happy Birthday, Marie!
Dinner with the family wasn’t the final treat of our big day, though. After driving another 50 minutes in the dark to get to our house, we were rewarded with the cutest puppy-like reception from Asher when we got inside.
Gee, but it’s great to be back home…
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Usual Elevation
Home again at an elevation my lungs are more accustomed to, my mind lingers in the Black Hills of South Dakota and the priceless fellowship of precious friends sharing an affinity for bicycling.
Yesterday, I drove from sun-up Mountain Time to sun-down Central Time in a completely different muscle-stiffening endurance exercise than pedaling nonstop for hours on end. I crossed most of South Dakota and Minnesota to get back to Beldenville in Wisconsin, where Cyndie and Asher were awaiting my return.
It’s good to be home.
The wide open expanses of South Dakota offered a stark reminder of how small our little rectangle of fields and forest really is. The massive hay production underway for mile after mile was remarkable to see now that I know a little more about the process.
The horse ranches are just as impressive. We saw real cowboys wrangling cattle as we whizzed by at over 80 mph on I90.
As I made one of the last few turns around a cornfield toward our driveway, the clouds looked busy in the sky. When I pulled in, I came to Cyndie walking in my direction. She was looking for Asher, who was chasing after a cat that appeared on our property.
He came running to me soon after in a special “welcome home” that only dogs excel in performing to such a degree.
This morning was a treat to reconnect with our horses. I smirked to myself while cleaning up their manure after a week of dodging cow messes on the trail. I’m glad I don’t have to clean up after cattle herds.
I’ll be thinking a lot about the previous week while I am mowing the overgrown grass that grows so thick at our much lower elevation compared to where I huffed and puffed while pedaling that marvelous gravel Mickelson Trail.
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Return Assessment
Our drive home yesterday took us through one downpour that lasted about two minutes, after which I needed to switch the wipers on and off to intermittent for the rest of the way home. The total in the rain gauge upon arrival at Wintervale read five inches.
Our grass was desperate for a cut, but it was soaking wet. Cyndie’s brother, Steve, met us at our house to pick up their mom and transport her the rest of the way to her place in Bloomington. We were thrilled to see that he brought along his new Havapoo puppy, Vern, for us to meet.
I’m sad we didn’t take any pictures of Asher timidly inspecting the little pup. He showed no concern over the appearance of a strange creature in his territory and acted as if he recognized that this young dog deserved special respect. Before they left, Steve let Vern explore a bit in the grass, and the little guy appropriately used the opportunity to poop.
Cyndie said Asher investigated that spot after Steve had picked up the droppings and left it alone to walk over to the other side of the driveway to pee. I think he already senses that Vern is family.
Before I headed to the barn, I stopped by the piles of composting manure to see how things looked after a weekend away and multiple downpours of rain. It was easy to turn over the most active pile and reshape the others to bring everything up to my overly-tended standard.
The paddocks and the horses weren’t as much of a muddy mess as we feared possible. Paddock Lake was full to overflowing. The friends we employ to stay at our home and care for our animals while we are away do a fantastic job of maintaining order regardless of the challenges the weather throws their way.
This week, we have a time scheduled to meet a new volunteer willing to feed the horses for us when needed. That would be a real boon if she chooses to accept the responsibility.
Mix appeared to be telling us about how well the shade sail stood up to all the wild weather that bombarded the place over the weekend.
I am so happy that we don’t need to panic and pull it down every time there is a threat of high winds. I think that having it nestled in a low spot between the barn and the hill of the hay field protects it from suffering the brunt of harsh conditions.
The only issue reported as a result of the heavy rain was a couple of dripping spots from the ceiling of our bathroom. It reminds me that we should be shopping for a roofing company to quote replacing our 15-year-old shingles.
They aren’t completely shot, but they’ve suffered a bit of abuse over the years. We think the leak over the bathroom might be related to the plumbing vent or exhaust fan coming through the shingles there. It only appears during exceptionally heavy downpours and has never amounted to much.
Overall, our assessment of things upon returning home was rewarding. We are very grateful to have superb house sitters who take such great care of our home and animals.
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Planting Corn
The other day, Cyndie was taking Asher for a walk, and they ended up having a corny adventure. There was a corn cob lying in the middle of the trail, and Asher trotted right for it, instantly snatching it in his teeth.
It is not uncommon for scavenging critters to rob the farmers of the occasional ear of field corn and then drop it somewhere on our property. I have seen Asher completely ignore them many times. I don’t know what made this one special.
He clenched that cob in his teeth for the rest of the North Loop trail.
He held onto it up and over the first hill of the driveway.
It was still in his jaws as they passed the hay shed and headed up toward the shop garage.
When they reached what he decided was the perfect spot, he stopped to dig a hole.
Then he dropped the cob in and pushed the loose dirt back on top to bury it.
I’m not sure it’s the best time to plant corn, but if a stalk sprouts from the ground in that location anytime in the future, I will be duly impressed with his technique.
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Ugly Air
I’ve lost track of how many days in a row we’ve been suffering under a “poor” and “low” quality air alert due to wildfire smoke. This morning, it shows up as “Moderate,” but the cumulative impact is lingering to the degree that we aren’t feeling much better. The lethargy I have been experiencing has helped me to avoid doing anything that requires heavy breathing, but we haven’t stayed indoors or worn masks while outside.
The horses and Asher appear to be responding to the nasty air in much the same way as we are. 
They are moving pretty slowly. I watched as Light stepped away from her bucket this morning and turned around toward Swings’ station. She then stood there for a minute or two, as if contemplating whether it was worth the effort to walk over there. When she eventually did, Light slid her nose into the bucket without asking, so Swings lifted her head up out of the way and chewed with her mouth open directly above Light’s head. Light ended up with a little crown of grains on top of her mane, where it covers her slowly healing head wound.
Horses are masters of taking things in stride.
Asher seemed to be looking for better air underground.
One complaint we don’t have during the bout of bad air quality is high humidity. It’s really sad that the dryer air that would otherwise feel so refreshing is being tainted by the smelly smoke particles.
When Asher was taking pauses between digging toward the center of the earth, he plopped down on the cool soil in hopes it would give him a little of that refreshing feeling that we are all longing for.
We are feeling a new level of appreciation for clean air and fresh breezes. If only they would arrive in a more gentle form than the hurricane-wind thunderstorms that seem to be joining wildfires as the new normal on the planet.
I’m afraid my lethargy has me feeling a little more gloomy about the state of things in the world this morning. Luckily, we have a lunch date planned today with friends, Rich and Jill. That will do oodles to bring me to my happy place of love and laughter again.
May you all find a way to spend some time in your happy place today, despite any of the gloom that may be crimping your styles!
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Home Heat
We got home yesterday in the middle of the day, and the heat outdoors was still set to “High.” After a night without power at the lake, the four of us who had stayed one more night –Cyndie, me, and our friends, Barb & Mike– sat in the porch and contemplated our situation.
We had enough leftovers to feed ourselves for breakfast, but then we would create dirty dishes that needed washing at a time when we had no running water. A restaurant breakfast was looking like a favorable alternative.
I reported seeing an Xcel Energy utility truck cruising up and down the Wildwood road in the pre-dawn hour, which was an encouraging sign that they were aware of our problem. Cyndie was able to text her brother, Ben, to learn he had received an email notification that power was expected to be back on by 7:30.
We decided to hang around long enough to see if that would prove to be accurate, placing virtual bets on actual timing. A short time later, 7:23 to be exact, the landscape pond waterfall sprang to life, revealing we were back in business. Sheets went into the washing machine, and breakfast was reheated.
Closing up the house for departure from the lake place was done with much more confidence than if we had needed to do it in the dark, not knowing which light switches may have inadvertently been left in an “on” position.
In the absence of a huge lake to keep us cool at Wintervale, we thankfully enjoy the benefits of geothermal-sourced air conditioning in the house. Asher seemed happy to see us again, but after a short walk outside in the hot sunshine, he quickly sought out one of his preferred cool spots to rest.
As always, the horses appeared very tolerant of the harsh conditions, enduring the uncomfortable humidity with a stoic calmness, despite pesky flies and the absence of a longed-for breeze.
When it came time to feed the horses, we let Asher roam off-leash on the way to the barn. He spotted a squirrel that had been feeding on spilled grain under one of the feed buckets and gave chase.
The critter made one brilliant maneuver that I figured would save it from capture, but Asher stayed after it. They both disappeared into the jewelweed around a tree, and just as I was expecting to see the squirrel leap up the trunk, we heard a squeak instead.
Asher emerged from the underbrush and immediately trotted off to bury his quarry. I guess it’s never too hot for a predator/prey drive to play out. We figure he is just protecting the horses from these pests and putting the rest of the scavengers around here on alert that they are risking their lives if they are going to mess with things around the barn.
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Nonstop Mowing
When the order of the day involves cutting the grass or trimming the sides of our trails, there isn’t much in the way of adventures to write about. It was hot in the direct sun, the mower worked perfectly, I accomplished a little more area than I thought I would yesterday, and I still have over a day’s worth left to finish. That’s not counting the fence line trimming that usually takes several days to fully complete.
Even though I have so much groundskeeping work to do, we won’t get anything done this morning because we have a brunch date in River Falls with some old Eden Prairie acquaintances. To my family and old EP friends, the names Herzog and Westerhaus might ring a bell. You never know who you might come across in life after a move to the country like we did over twelve years ago.
That’s about it. Since that’s all I’ve got, I’ll throw in a photo Cyndie took of the horses grazing in the freshly cut hay field.
One added note: Cyndie just described a successful exercise with Asher off-leash while she was trimming small branches from the large oak limb that fell. (We don’t see much of each other on days when I mow and she is busy with other projects. I hear about her adventures later.) She said he busied himself exploring the woods for a while as she worked, then eventually wandered over to sit upright nearby on the trail and waited until she finished.
Good dog.
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Aftermath Dealing
I didn’t plan on coping with the work that now lies before me. When a big tree comes down unexpectedly, it suddenly claims a large chunk of one’s time.
We started in on the effort to cut up the limbs of the big maple tree in a short block of available time on Friday.
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Cyndie stood and contemplated the prospect of somehow clearing away all the branches and lumber that lay before us. Asher pitched in to do his part by gnawing the ends of branches to show them who is boss around here.
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The broken limb visible in the picture on the left above is not the maple tree. That is an example of collateral damage to nearby reasonably-sized trees, unfortunate to have been directly in the path of destruction. The photo on the right includes a thin maple tree that has been folded over with a 180° bend.
The tangle of surrounding trees adds a significant level of drama to attempts to cut the mess into workable sizes with my chainsaw. It is difficult to detect where the stored energy of torqued limbs and trees is holding things in place or tangled in a way that will suddenly spring free with great force when cut.
I experienced both in the short initial session we worked. There’s a lot more work left to be done when we can get around to it.
Yesterday afternoon, we enjoyed the great pleasure of a visit from my niece, Tricia, and her kids, Brooke and Drew. They were in the area for Drew’s orientation at the University of Wisconsin-River Falls. It will be super to have family so close next year, especially since there is a great deal of fondness between Drew and Asher.
I think they will be good for each other.
We’ve been experimenting with using an e-collar on Asher to practice recall and allow him to move around without a leash, but stay on our property. In the last few days, Cyndie has only needed to drive up to retrieve Asher from the neighbor’s place one time.
We know that learning involves making mistakes in order to figure out the corrections, but who is fond of that part of the process? I am guilty of finding it easier to just grab a leash at this point, even though I really want him to learn to stay around without one.
It’s more work for me to stay constantly poised with a finger on the button, needing to quickly decide if he is fine to chase around in our woods or quickly needing redirection to maintain contact with me. When he bolts, it happens so quickly that I can’t tell if my commands are heard and the collar tone or vibration is even being activated.
Yesterday, he came back on his own after chasing a rabbit, so I didn’t fret.
I’m definitely not a fan of dealing with the aftermath when he fails to respond to my calls. It’s so much easier to lavish him with praise when he comes as called.
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Relative Something 