Posts Tagged ‘dog walking’
Wonder Dog
Before I get to today’s post, I want to proclaim that I unequivocally object to everything the current U.S. criminal masquerading as a leader is up to, as well as all of the rest of the people in positions of power, who are allowing things to happen. It is soul-crushing and heartbreaking.
Our New Year’s getaway to Mike and Barb’s cabin was not entirely for Asher’s benefit, but he did seem to receive the bulk of everyone’s attention while we’ve been here. On a walk through the woods along a portage from Bluewater Lake to Trout Lake, we paused to let Asher zoom on the snow-covered ice.
He is enthralled with the scent he picks up from the deer tracks in the snow and would gladly follow them endlessly if we allowed. A gnome home in the trunk of a tree didn’t even get a sniff from him, probably because it looks like they must have traveled south for the winter.
No one is shoveling their entrance.
The extreme cold has softened, and it is pleasant to be out enjoying winter at its best. We’ve received fresh fallen snow each day, which is keeping everything white and making it look like we are playing in a snow globe.
As darkness fell, we heard the pop of a fireworks shot down the lake, which Barb and Mike knew indicated their neighbors were going to do a show of multiple shots soon. With a full moon peaking through the light cloud cover, we decided to walk down to the lake to watch.
Since Asher had never shown any reaction to gunshots or thunderclaps, we decided to test his reaction to the fireworks.
Our mistake was in assuming he would be as oblivious to them as he is to the other loud booms. The poor guy flipped out. Our 90-pound puppy went into a full-on panic of yelping and trying to drag me as fast as he could, and as far away as he could get.
We have confirmed our wonder dog’s kryoptonite.
Lesson learned, the hard way. This morning, Asher woke up as happy as ever, and he and I had a wonderful walk at dawn, leaving last night’s terror a memory we hope he won’t need to relive. In a short time, we will pack him up along with our bags and leftover food and head for home.
It’s been a fabulous visit. I expect it will also be fabulous to get him back to our usual routine at home, where he can be the wonder dog who barks at delivery trucks and rabbits in his yard.
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Early Return
Graced with a deceivingly pleasant October day of moderate warmth and plenty of sunshine, Cyndie, Asher, and I enjoyed a leisurely Sunday free of any responsibilities. I wasted some of it watching NFL football on TV, but when the game wasn’t going my way, I distracted myself with a jigsaw puzzle.
Cyndie rewarded me with photos from her first walk of the morning with Asher and their last walk of the evening.
When I took him exploring in the middle of the afternoon, I found the sunlight and the lake surface were far less captivating. During the weekend, we reached a point of successfully allowing Asher to romp off-leash, with the e-collar for prompts if needed. At the lake, since he hasn’t spent a lot of time here, we are cautious about how much freedom we are comfortable granting him.
Since the presence of other unleashed dogs is always a possibility that we don’t control, it’s a different gamble to have him running loose.
After dinner, while we were binge-watching the first few episodes of Season 3 of “The Diplomat,” Cyndie received a message that one of the owners of This Old Horse would be coming out this morning with a veterinarian to look at Mix. The cause of Mix’s occasional slight gimpiness in her hind end has yet to be confirmed. We both want to be there for the visit, so we initiated preparations for an early departure from the lake place before going to bed last night. The sooner we can get on the road this morning, the better chance we have of getting home in time for that.
It was a fun, uneventful getaway for a few days that gave us a chance to employ the two newest UWRF students who responded to our help-wanted post for feeding horses when we are away. Now it’s time to return to attend to all the activities on our weekly calendar of events.
Somehow, I have let the date of the anniversary of our move to Wintervale pass without fanfare. October 18, 2012, was supposed to be the day, but signing the paperwork was delayed by a few. We can now say we are entering our 14th year here.
It’s been a pretty good run. A lot has happened in the last 13 years, and it’s all been captured here in my ongoing memoir of a daily blog: the fun, the sad, and the embarrassing.
Here’s hoping the coming year will be filled with more fun than sadness. And lots of love, too!
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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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Frozen Observations
Getting out of bed on mornings when the temperature outside is below zero and the first order of business involves walking a dog and tending to horses, takes an extra level of oomph that gets harder and harder to muster. Even Asher chose to stay in bed for an extra few minutes this morning after Cyndie opened the door of his crate.
But greet the day we must, and soon we found ourselves plodding along the North Loop trail on the snowless frozen tundra. I don’t know what depth the frost has reached at this point, but not very far beneath our land, the water table is still liquid. Hydrostatic pressure is pushing it up above ground where it freezes in slippery growing mounds on our trail.
Asher had no interest in lingering after the horses were taken care of because the pads of his feet were getting almost as cold as Cyndie’s fingers. The little black pigeon that I have taken to calling “Plucky,” must have been suffering from cold feet, too. After pecking away at the cracked grains beneath where Swings was eating and having spillage from Swings’ mouth shower its feathers, the fearless bird chose to perch on Light’s back.
To a bird’s feet, that must feel like standing on an electric blanket.
Our agenda for the day involves taking Asher up to the lake with us for a single overnight visit in order to meet a contractor tomorrow for a quote on carpentry work, both indoors and out. It’s tricky figuring out what to bring for such a short getaway that will still involve walking a dog in extremely cold temperatures.
We have horse duties covered for tonight and tomorrow morning, but that’s it, so we need to return by dinnertime tomorrow.
Tonight will be a big night for NFL fans as my Minnesota Vikings will be doing battle in Detroit against the Lions in a single-game competition that will determine Division Champion and playoff seeding. It is hard for my tiny mind to perceive that some people will be oblivious to the significance. It’s as if there might be other issues of greater importance in this world.
Not to the 8-year-old boy in me!
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As Expected
The National Weather Service warnings were spot-on for our area yesterday. Asher and I headed out for the morning walk into the snowstorm, fully prepared for the worst. It wasn’t the most difficult of conditions we’ve faced, but it was challenging. My legs got a good workout trying to keep up with Asher as he pranced through the snow with little in the way of extra effort.
There was just enough snow to make my trudging in stiff boots much less efficient.
The horses looked like they had chosen to spend the night outside the protection of the overhang despite the heavy precipitation.
There was enough snow blown into those spaces that it probably didn’t matter either way. The wind was blowing from the wrong direction for the overhang to provide its best shelter from the elements.
I spent much of the day plowing and shoveling. Got the driveway cleared just as Cyndie was pulling in, which was nice for both of us. The road didn’t get plowed until late afternoon. It knocked the mailbox off its base, which surprised me. I thought it was dry enough snow it wouldn’t pack such a punch.
I guess not everything went as expected.
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An Honor
For horses that have suffered neglect under the watch of humans, witnessing them now demonstrating trust in us is beyond precious. I know I have said it before, but it is such an honor and a privilege to stand among them while they eat the grain I have just distributed. When they allow me to encroach on their space to hang hay bags or clean the ground beneath them, it feels like they’re granting me a mystical connection.
I’ve seen them get ornery with each other, and it can look downright wicked before a quick return to calm. Some mornings, it’s not strange to find one or more of them all worked up about something until I finally get their grain served. Then, everyone settles down and focuses on the business at hand.
Yesterday morning, they were all chill as could be when Asher and I rounded the corner of the path around the back pasture into sight of the barn. They stood patiently while I cleaned everything up beneath the overhang, sometimes watching me but usually appearing to ignore me as they kept their eyes on the distant landscape.
It felt more damp than cold as the temperature hovered around the freezing point. That temperature range creates a situation where it is hard to tell if things are going to be wet or frozen. The driveway offered a little bit of both.
The circular spots were slippery, while the rest of the pavement wasn’t. It made it tricky for me to walk on. I chose to stay off to the side as Asher entertained himself by trying to maintain forward momentum when every third step would suddenly lose purchase.
In the time it took us to finish our last portion of the morning dog walking routine, the horses were done with their feed buckets, allowing me to reclaim them in avoidance of unwanted shenanigans from the mares. Given a chance, they have a knack for bending the handles all out of shape.
At that point, the horses’ attention switches to the hay bags they had just seen me fill.
As I unclip each bucket, I like to imagine the horses are thanking me for the fresh hay.
“It’s an honor,” I tell them.
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His Idea
Asher was insistent. He wanted me to take him outside. I wasn’t interested in venturing out into the cold wind, but Asher persisted long enough to defeat my resistance. When I got out of the recliner to get suited up against the elements, I caught a glimpse of a surprising amount of falling snow.
Really, dog? I’m not sure he even noticed how hard it was snowing. His primary interest continues to be getting to the barn to snatch up pigeons that behave too lackadaisical in his presence for their own good. He has such a one-track mind about catching pigeons lately that he doesn’t seem to notice how many walks we take where I don’t let him go to the barn.
His hope is unfazed. He veers toward the barn at every opportunity until his leash snugs as I continue walking straight ahead.
When we got down by the labyrinth, the falling snow was pretty and it was fun to be out in it.
I took a chance at capturing the fresh snow starting to cling to the tops of the seedheads of the Japanese tall grass, trying to lean with it as the wind swung it to and fro.
A moment later, the precipitation kicked up a notch and I noticed I couldn’t see the barn when we turned the corner on the path around the back pasture fence.
Asher picked up his pace a bit and pulled me along as the thick blowing snow pelted us. Suddenly, I got the impression I was on more than just a figurative expedition. This walk was becoming a literal expedition. I hoped we would make it back to some shelter before either of us perished.
When we reached the mailbox, I grabbed the three envelopes we’d received and didn’t resist when Asher chose to take the driveway instead of continuing along the north loop trail. He picked up his pace again, and I was able to slide my boots a short distance on the icy pavement as he pulled me along.
He let me stop him for a moment as I tried to get a photo of the tall grass by the shop garage, but I don’t think he was happy about it.
“It was your idea to go out in this,” I told him.
“Can we go back in the house now, Dad?”
We made it back to the front door before either of us succumbed to the elements of this blustery snow burst, barely worse for the wear. Thankfully, Asher was much more agreeable about lolling about indoors with me for the rest of the afternoon.
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Left Out
The day started mostly sunny but the forecast warned of a chance of rain in the afternoon. Sometime after Cyndie departed for a couple of days away with friends, I granted Asher a chance to walk through the woods wherever his nose led us, hoping to distract him from already missing her.
Before we set out, I opened a gate to allow the horses some time to graze grass. As far as we can tell, their bodies are adjusting to the gradual change in diet just fine.
While our neighbor to the south mowed grass along our property lines, Asher and I popped out of the woods and made our way between the horses in the field and the riding mower. It seemed like a perfect afternoon of spring sunshine.
The sky was partly cloudy, but it didn’t seem all that threatening. I hadn’t paid any attention to what the radar looked like. I’ve heard the phrase “popcorn showers” used for the dotted image of precipitation blobs that showed up when I finally checked.
Asher and I had made our way around our entire property and into the barn where I left him to kill time while I cleaned up manure and then prepared buckets of feed. I was planning to bring out the buckets as an enticement to get the horses to come in off the field. Before I made it out the door, they came racing in at top speed.
We couldn’t feel the wind at that point but the sound of the howling gusts that suddenly blew through the surrounding trees was downright spooky. Eerie enough to scare the horses back to the safety of the barn. I hung their buckets of feed as quickly as I could to get them focused on their evening meal while I scooted down to close the gate to the field.
I made it back just as rain started to fall. Then it started to pour out of the cloud with an ominous roar that rumbled the metal roof to maximum decibels. I looked out the half door at the horses and noticed why it was so loud on the roof. It looked to be equal parts rain and BB-sized hail.
Unfortunately, of the four spots the horses choose for feeding, Mia’s is outside the cover of the overhang. With enough warning, we can easily move her under but she was already out there when the deluge hit.
I could see the pellets of hail bouncing off of her. It didn’t seem to bother Mia a bit. Light turned around a couple of times to look out at the cloudburst but other than that, the dramatic precipitation didn’t disturb the horses from their feed.
The gusher ended as quickly as it arrived. Mia was wet but unfazed by it all.
Asher and I walked back up to the house under a fresh interval of sunshine and ate our respective dinners devoid of any further meteorologic theatrics.
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Wintery Spring
After what seemed like an almost summery winter, we are now experiencing a very wintery spring. Did I mention the meteorologists were referring to this storm as a long-duration event? It rained hard almost the whole night before turning to snow again yesterday morning.
Now on top of the inch or two of standing water that was covered by about 7 inches of saturated snow, we were receiving oodles of new, dryer snow. It made for some really laborious trudging while accompanying Asher on one of his daily rounds.
The drainage swale that cuts across our back pasture was clearly visible as the rainwater made its way from the fields to enter the creeks that run to the rivers that eventually make their way to the mighty Mississippi for the journey to the Gulf of Mexico. It’s all downhill from here.
When I took these pictures, I was standing on the footbridge I built that allows for ease of travel across the spot where our swale meets the ditch along the south border of our property. That ditch was filled with more flowing water than I have seen in a very long time.
It is dry 98% of the time. It channels runoff during spring melts and occasional flash-flooding rain storms.
As Asher and I reached the far corner of our property on the trail we call the North Loop, a bald eagle swooped up out of the field as if we’d disturbed it from some activity. The very top of the tallest pine tree in our neighbor’s front yard became the eagles’ perch.
If there was a carcass the beautiful bird had been involved with, I didn’t want Asher to find it so we trudged onward to finish the property border walk and get back to the safe confines of the house. The conditions outside were teetering uncomfortably close to the category of being unfit for man or beast.
I’m looking forward to the end of this long-overdue smattering of winter so we can return to some much more spring-like conditions. We’ve certainly got a good head start on “April showers.”
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Hit Threes
I’ve figured it out. The way to make a big splash in the NCAA March Madness basketball tournament is to hit all of your three-point shots and shoot them with abandon from everywhere on the floor. If you want to beat a higher-seeded team, it sure helps to hit more three-pointers than they do.
While I’ve been watching basketball, Cyndie and Asher have been having some unexpected excitement in the great outdoors. I got an odd request from Cyndie in a phone call asking for a different leash for Asher and a change of gloves for her.
They had encountered a coyote on a walk on our north loop trail and Cyndie used the trunk of a pine tree to anchor Asher from bolting after the intruder. Her gloves and the leash ended up covered in pine sap. She said Asher howled with high intensity in expression of his desire to chase.
Unfortunately, the other excitement involved howling of a different sort. Asher suffered a too-close encounter with the electric fence around the back pasture. That’s the second time he has met that fate. Let’s hope it doesn’t take “three” to teach him once and for all to stay away from those white wires.
It might be a little harder to notice them today because we got a fresh coating of white over our landscape last night. Forecasters are telling us this is the first of two doses of snow we should anticipate, the second, on Sunday, being the bigger of the two.
We just might end up getting more snow in spring than we did all winter. Heavy, wet spring snow makes me fear for our tree branches.
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Relative Something 