Posts Tagged ‘Delilah’
Disappearing Days
Can days actually disappear? Vanish without a trace? Somehow or other we have arrived at Monday, November 25th. Where was I when time flew by?
Efforts are under way to prepare our home to host guests for multiple gatherings over the coming Thanksgiving weekend. You know those things that lie around unnecessarily for months, that suddenly become noticeable as being out of place when preparing for special events? Suddenly, piles of stuff are beginning to form at the top of the stairs, waiting to be carried away and stashed in some less conspicuous location.
I don’t understand where it all came from, how it all accumulates, or where we have space to store it in the future.
Maybe those days don’t actually vanish without a trace, and this stuff is what gets left behind by the disappearing days.
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The local deer population has been reduced by a few already. Yesterday morning, we were surprised by a knock on the door, and our neighbor stepped in to describe the scene that had just transpired with his grandson down by the pond on their property. He was confirming we were okay with them tracking a deer they had shot, which then turned and ran into our woods.
In reality, it crossed our property entirely and made it into the neighbor’s woods on the other side of us. The guys dragged it down the trails to the edge of our woods where they could drive up with a trailer to haul it away to be registered with the DNR. I had Delilah out for a walk when they showed up in their truck and of course, she took great interest in this, and thus was a challenge to hold as we visited with the hunters for a moment before they drove away.
I think she is frustrated with the extended time indoors and on the leash this weekend. I spoiled her with a lot of time running loose last week.
Now that I think of it, last night, when our CSA farm neighbor stopped by with this month’s delivery, which included a fresh turkey, Delilah had that same look in her eyes as she put her paws on the counter to sniff the bird as she did with the deer in the trailer. She is a carnivore, there is no doubt about that.
One night I decided to treat her to some left over chicken chow mien on top of her usual food. She eats everything she finds on the ground, from sticks to antlers, mummified carcasses, and even manure, but when I checked her bowl after the chow mien, I found she had deftly set aside a piece of celery and a mushroom that didn’t interest her.
She certainly knows what she doesn’t like.
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Necessary Medicine
It is very rewarding to see our dog, Delilah, loving the snow with such gusto. She buries her face in it! Sadly, we are making her sick with the medication to treat her Lyme infection, as the antibiotic is upsetting her tummy. There is a life lesson in that, isn’t there? If we are too timid about enduring some necessary hardships, we shortchange ourselves from ultimate results we seek.
The relatively brief period of gastric distress is worth dealing with to rid her of the infection that is causing her to be intermittently lame. She’s a trooper and is handling it well. For some reason, she seems to prefer to throw up indoors. I was trying to get ready to take her out before bed last night in the extreme cold, and thus struggling to get boots on, hat, jacket, gloves, plus my head lamp, while she started gagging. Half way through getting my stuff on, I’m running into the kitchen to get a paper towel.
Nothing of substance was coming up, but she kept trying. I’d hastily get a boot on, and then turn to wipe up after her, now rushing even more to get the rest of my stuff on so I could take her out. I left the last spots to be wiped up later, and we headed out the door. Outside, she seemed completely fine. After a very short time out in the cold night air, after she both peed and pooped, I invited her back in. At the door, she started to choke again. I quickly reversed direction and offered her a chance to stay out a bit longer.
She walked around the yard, nosed the snow, but seemed otherwise just fine. Back to the door, and a bit of a gag. Maybe being in the house makes her sick to her stomach?
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Single Digits
We received a bit of snow on Thursday night, and this morning temperatures are in the single digits. My usual ease with facing the extreme cold of winter has waned as I age, but I was pleased to find that adjustment came quickly for me, as I began clearing the driveway up by the house. In no time, I was removing my jacket and finding an easy balance of comfort in the cold, while involved in activity.
Sure, it feels cold if you just step out and stand still in the frigid air. What a great excuse to do something productive, or at least, entertaining!
After I finished the driveway, I walked with Delilah down to the labyrinth to make tracks along the pathway in hopes of establishing the route in snow so it will remain obvious throughout the winter. It was a delightful experience to be the first one to trek through the snow, enjoying the rare opportunity to see where I have been, in contrast to the portion that lay ahead.
Delilah has a bit too much energy to be limited to staying on the path, so she wasn’t much help with tromping down the trail. Plus, the arrival of snow has ramped up her energy immensely, as she gleefully celebrates the white stuff that has turned her outdoor world into a whole new playground experience.
Unfortunately, today dawns with new restrictions for our animals, as the deer hunting season has begun, and the woods all around us will be filled with the sounds of gunshots. The unbridled romping will be severely constrained for the next two weeks.
Cyndie reported that this morning, the two elder horses of our herd were stoically standing posts facing in opposite directions and were barely willing to suspend their surveillance to partake in the morning feed. They sense that the predator/prey operation is underway.
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Tricky Care
I took this photo of Delilah a while back, to show off her forehead painted silver by some concoction Cyndie sprayed to seal a wound. We noticed recently how nicely that spot finally healed up. What we once feared would be an obvious scar on her head, has now disappeared. She had hurt herself by running into barbed wire when she was over zealously exploring off-leash.
Earlier this week, the same day I had taken Delilah into the vet to be seen for her lameness, she got up to greet Cyndie coming home from work in the evening, and the problem had moved to one of her front legs. That didn’t take long. It was one of the signs the vet said we should watch for that would indicate the Lyme infection was active, and would warrant a second, different antibiotic regimen.
In the manner of behavior that dogs can be so good at demonstrating, whenever the lameness subsides, she quickly returns to activity as if she is in the peak of health. Now, that’s something that should be studied. I wish I could do that when I was sick!
It makes it tricky when caring for her. She seems like she could run and run, but should I let her? For both of our sakes, I’m taking a break from chucking balls for her to find. Seems I’ve developed a bit of tendonitis in the elbows from a variety of the activities I have been engaged in around here. She and I can convalesce together.
We can play, “Find the Ball with Your Nose” indoors, for a while. Good timing for that. Temperatures are headed for the deep freeze this weekend.
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Found It!
Cyndie found the mouse that the cats killed. They put it in the toilet. We are very impressed that they knew the mouse was something that needed to be disposed of.
Meanwhile, the horses have proved me wrong. I believe that I wrote about how often I find them lying down to rest in the afternoons, and that one of them always remains standing to keep watch. Yesterday, I looked up from my task to find that all four of them were on the ground at the same time. I guess they feel safe here. As I watched them, I noticed there was no traffic on our road and no activity underway in any of the fields or at the neighboring farms. It was wonderfully calm and quiet, even with the wind kicking up some fairly robust gusts every so often. I think their behavior is a reflection of the environment where they now find themselves living.
We are pretty happy with the place, too.
Now, the serenity is not without interruption. This time of year, there are an awful lot of gunshots spoiling the natural sound scape. Hunting seasons for a variety of animals start in September and run into December. The biggest hunt around here is definitely the deer season. It opens this coming weekend, so right now many hunters are preparing their guns, test-firing them and calibrating the sights.
We saw the horses startle at the sound of some of the closer shots later in the day yesterday. I’m hoping that the presence of our horses and Delilah will have rerouted the deer traffic away from our land, so the hunters will have no incentive to post themselves close by. I certainly haven’t seen as many deer around here this year as there were last year during the same time period.
I’ve posted images here on the blog of Delilah with her blaze-orange vest on, I wonder if we should get the horses some blaze-orange blankets. We definitely don’t want to have them wear antler hats for the next two weeks. I’ve heard stories that cause me to be uneasy during deer hunting season. Luckily, there are no strangers hunting in our vicinity. It is all private property, and the hunting is done by family groups that are familiar with the area.
I’m just happy our cats have finally decided to participate in some hunting this year. It’s the season!
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Pet News
The weather is holding, and making my earlier post inaccurate, as forecasts now indicate we still have some 50-degree temperatures available to us up here during November. Luckily, we were spared any of the thunderstorms and tornadoes that other parts of the midwest experienced.
I barely had time in the afternoon yesterday to finish off the bracing wires on the corner posts and then start the process of setting posts up the hill for the fence line along the northern border of our property. The sun sets so dang early now that just as I start to make progress, it’s time to gather up the tools and call it a day.
The morning was consumed by a trip to the vet with Delilah. On Saturday evening, after a wonderfully normal day, she laid down early, slid off the back of her bed and didn’t move for the entire time we were upstairs watching a rented movie. It seemed so uncharacteristic for her. After the movie, Cyndie had to work hard to coax Delilah to move, and at that point, it became obvious there was a problem. Delilah couldn’t get up.
Without any warning, she had suddenly gone lame. A quick search pointed to Lyme disease as a likely culprit, which wasn’t a surprise. When we had her in for surgery, shortly after we first brought her home, they ran a blood test and told us it appeared Delilah was already infected with Lyme. Even though we weren’t seeing any symptoms, the course of treatment indicated was for 30-days of antibiotics. We followed through on that, and during that time, and since, we witnessed no symptoms, so we were feeling hopeful.
Not any more.
First, Cyndie, now our dog… I sure hope the horses don’t get it. Or the cats, for that matter. Even though they are indoor animals, we saw them catch a mouse the other night (Finally! It’s the first time we witnessed them get one), and mice are reservoirs for the infection. By the way, we saw them catch the mouse (they actually appeared to be working together), but we didn’t see what they did with it. I thought sure I would be stepping on it when I walked to the bathroom in the morning darkness. Nope. I lucked out.
But we still haven’t found any left over evidence anywhere. They really are more efficient than a baited trap. I have to dump those. I’ve gotten 3 in 3-days in a trap in the garage. Last year, I just tossed the mouse-cicles into the woods. This year, I am wary of Delilah finding them if I do that.
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Language Barrier
It appears that I continue to be hampered by my limitation of being monolingual, when it comes to communicating with all our animals, and none of them are showing any signs of understanding a word I have been saying.
I kind of expect that from the cats. They are naturally aloof. Although, I haven’t tried too many phrases on them. Mostly, they just hear me repeat, over and over, “What do you want? What do you want?”
Delilah sometimes responds to single syllable commands, but she is inconsistent about it, so I don’t have much faith that she is actually interpreting the words or sentences I have used.
With the horses, I know I should be trying to move out of speaking just from my head, into trying to use my gut and heart energy more, but sometimes the message feels time sensitive and my words are the quickest tool I have. Most often, it is Legacy who I find myself face to face with, and my words have been eliciting a blank-stare response from him.
He seems as frustrated with me, as I am with him. I expect he is probably transmitting his messages to me loud and clear, but they aren’t coming through in plain english, so I am at a loss as to what he is trying to say.
Yesterday, he showed up at the other side of the fence while I was cleaning the ground in the paddock. For some reason, he started chewing on the fence post above the electric wire. Now, the wire is there to discourage them from chewing on the wood fence, so I was half-hoping that he might get too close and feel a shock that would teach him to leave it alone. He may have been just trying to show me that he could, that he was that good, he could work around our little deterrent.
I didn’t want him to do it, so I was feeling peeved. At first, I tried ignoring him, so he might notice it would gain him nothing with me. My frustration got the better of me, when he continued, so I walked over and told him not to chew on the post, and I slapped my hand on the top of the post a few times, to emphasize my point. When that didn’t alter his behavior, I stepped up again and pounded on the post and then told him I was angry. I wanted him to know in his language, so I put my hands on my head, to mimic horse ears, and I pinned them back, telling him, “See? This is how I feel about you chewing on the post. I am angry!”
He didn’t show obvious signs of reacting, so I brought my ‘hand-ears’ forward, so that he might understand they were supposed to be my ears, and with that, I startled the heck out of him! He pulled his head back, and took a couple of steps backward. I pinned my hands back again and told him I was angry!
It was funny, because the part he reacted to wasn’t supposed to be the threatening gesture. Regardless, it seemed to do the trick. I went back to scooping up manure, and he went back to grazing.
Apparently I know more horse language than I realized.
Delilah Again
Delilah stole the show again yesterday. She was a chewing monster in the morning before we went outside. Luckily, what she shredded was a chew toy of her own, so no harm done. I think it is cute that it is common for her to lay her head down on whatever it is she has just torn to bits, to take a little rest. All that destruction must be exhausting.
Later in the day, I let her accompany me, on a leash, for the trip to the barn. I chose to leave her tied up inside while tending to chores in the paddocks. I didn’t have it in me to witness any chasing of horses, and she has not been very trustworthy about behaving appropriately in their presence for the entirety of each visit. When she is good, it is as though she can only hold it for so long, and eventually something gives way and she can’t help but give chase.
What really got me yesterday –and this may be something that you really needed to be there for– was what she did when I finished my barn chores and disconnected the tie line holding her in place. Now I had her by the spring-loaded leash we often use, allowing her to explore, within limits, at her heart’s content. She seemed to have an immediate agenda, and headed for a spot that seemed entirely random to me.
She sniffed and pushed her nose into the apparent nothingness of the dirt, like she so often does. I have watched her appear to be within striking distance of a mole in the dirt so many times, yet come up with absolutely nothing, I hardly glance her way anymore when she starts the routine. Too often, when she starts frantically digging to get after something, she stops and turns to pounce on the sound behind her, which happens to be the dirt she was throwing between her back legs, as it hits the leaves on the ground.
I think she may have attention deficit issues.
Not me. I’m still on track, trying to describe what happened yesterday. So, as I was barely paying attention to her putting her nose to the ground at that unlikely spot, she surprised me by pulling something out of the dirt right there! She is so funny when she gets a critter in her mouth. She gets this expression that looks a bit sheepish, like she is doing something embarrassing. My guess is that she has a sense we might disapprove, which I suppose Cyndie does to a small degree more than I. Delilah also becomes entirely fixated on her “catch” and will take great precautions to maintain possession.
Whatever she pulled out of the ground was so covered with dirt that I couldn’t identify it, but it seemed to be about the size of a mole, and was dangling out of her mouth, swinging as she walked. I couldn’t tell if it was something she just discovered, or if it was something she had previously buried in that spot. I let her lead the way, and we walked out into the warm sunshine bathing the back hill behind our house.
I was more than happy to let her find a spot to lie down and do what comes natural with her little prize. As she licked and licked that dirt blob, I began to recognize the profile of a rabbit ear. I expect it is a remnant of the rabbit she had a couple of weeks ago, and thus, probably something she buried for her future enjoyment.
Delightful Delilah
I had a very fine day yesterday with Delilah that started a little surprisingly. Cyndie had gotten up early to let Delilah out, and then was occupied with some activity, while I remained in bed trying to fall back to sleep. I was jolted alert by a commotion in the dark at the foot of the bed. Usually it is the sound of the cats doing battle, but that rarely lasts very long, and this sound wasn’t stopping.
My intuition sensed Delilah was in the room, but the familiar clanking sound of the tags on her collar was missing. Then it occurred to me that the reason she would be able to appear in our bedroom in the first place would be, if she got loose from her leash, which would be logical if she had slipped out of her collar altogether. I jumped out of bed in the dark, wearing my usual sleepwear –which doesn’t happen to involve pajamas– and blindly stepped into the middle of the hissing fracas, feeling a bit ill at ease.
By this time, Cyndie was aware something was amiss and had come running. She toggled the light switch and revealed the standoff between the girls. Pequenita will stand her ground, but Mozyr zooms under the bed at the slightest threat. Calm was restored, but my thoughts of falling back to sleep were dashed.
After breakfast, I took Delilah outside to see if I could chuck a ball someplace where she would have to hunt to find it. It is thrilling to watch her dial in the location, as she passes back and forth across the path the ball took. One of my tosses ended up deflecting off a tree, changing trajectory from what Delilah was anticipating. I thought I saw where it landed and waited for her to narrow it down to that spot. I could tell it was a hard one, because she was obviously having difficulty homing in on it.
She would pop out of the woods, and then circle back in to hunt some more. One time, when she came out and headed all the way back toward me, I figured she was giving up. Then I spotted the ball in her mouth. I didn’t believe it, because she hadn’t made it back to the spot I had been watching. I thought she must have found some other ball from an earlier time. I hiked in and checked out the spot I had been eyeing. Nothing there!
Her nose is definitely better than my eyesight.
The morning altercation with Pequenita must have stirred something in the cat, as she came out three different times throughout the day to approach Delilah and make contact. It is not entirely unprecedented that she do that, but it doesn’t happen every day. Three times in one day is of noteworthy significance. When Delilah remains calm in the presence of the cat(s), she gets a treat.
On the third occasion, when Cyndie had arrived home, they were almost nose to nose, gobbling up the treats she was putting down. It was very rewarding to see Delilah maintain her composure for all three of the visits from Pequenita.
Progress has been very slow in coming, but it appears our patience is finally being rewarded. I don’t know about the cats, but I am truly looking forward to the day when we don’t have to confine Delilah to a leash when she comes inside the house.
Grizzly Arrival
I had a great day yesterday with Delilah as my off-leash companion for a variety of tasks and activities. We finally got the “Chuckit” device to save my arm and shoulder when tossing balls for Delilah to find. I was testing the distances and trying to give her a spread of different areas to search, and then the delivery of our Grizzly ATV arrived. I hoped to leave her searching, while I headed down the driveway to direct the driver to pull his trailer onto the loop around the hay shed.
She saw me walk away and followed, without the ball in her mouth. By the time I got done helping to unload everything (came with a spare set of tires/rims and the plow blade), I discovered I couldn’t recall which direction I had last thrown the ball. Off and on for the rest of the day, I urged her to use her nose to go find her ball, but it never turned up. I even walked the woods in the areas I had been throwing into, but found nothing.
Do some people clean the underside of their lawn mowers more than once a year? What a mess ours was. It surprises me it even works when there is that much gunk accumulated. Delilah was happy to wander off with chunks of the stinkiest pieces. I think she believes she is being helpful.
I mowed the grass on Sunday, hopefully for the last time this season, and yesterday got the mower deck dismantled from the tractor. Now there is enough ground clearance for that tractor to go places it usually gets stuck. There is also plenty of room for changing the oil.
Of course, we don’t need to drive that lawn tractor into the fields now, because we have an ATV that is made to do that, and much more. It’s a big one. I’m thinking we should call it, “Griz.”
Relative Something 