Posts Tagged ‘dog’
Counting Leaves
It is not impossible to function at -14°F (-25°C), but it can be a bit of a hassle to tie up hay nets and distribute buckets of grain –one of which now gets watered down— in such extreme conditions. I am very happy that Asher showed a keen sense of efficiency and adapted perfectly to my plan to shortcut our morning walk and get his business out of the way as swiftly as possible.
The horses were equally focused on their tasks and offered no resistance to assuming their positions and chomping grain with their frozen whiskers getting messier by the minute.
The feelings of accomplishment when returning to the house and getting the feeling back in our fingers and toes don’t entirely dispel the intense urge to have remained under the warm covers of our bed instead.
We tell ourselves these extreme cold snaps that are difficult to survive help to control the populations of pest animals and insects, as well as the number of added people who might consider moving into our region when their homes prove to be inhabitable.
I looked up at the leaves in the big oak tree over our driveway and had two thoughts.
There aren’t many leaves left clinging to all those branches. On the other hand, there are still more leaves up in that tree than I could count.
In contrast, there is a young oak nearby that looks as though it still is holding all its leaves after they dried up and turned brown.
There is also a birdhouse with a birch bark roof that features an opening that wasn’t there when initially built.
I think the residents left for a warmer climate a long time ago.
As harsh as this weather is, the forecast indicates the bite will be even more intense tomorrow. The critters that survive this will have something to brag about.
I have no conclusion that wraps these contemplations this morning into a logical theme. That would involve more thought than I have to muster. With what little energy I have, I intend to curl into a ball like Asher is doing right now on the couch beside me and save what I can for the next foray into the Arctic elements outside later this afternoon.
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Excited Morning
It was not a quiet week in Wintervale this morning. It is cold out there, but not below zero yet. I took Asher for a walk, and Cyndie headed straight for the barn to minimize her time out in the cold. Just as Asher and I popped out of the woods, a noisy truck could be heard up by the house. The dog was only mildly intrigued, and I was able to quickly deduce the neighborhood coyote hunters were busy at it.
Cyndie had a chance to check in with them near the barn, telling them we had seen the coyotes on our night camera a day or two ago. She told him she would keep our dog in the barn while they were in the vicinity.
Much to my glee, we returned to the ordinary orientation for feeding the horses this morning. Mix and Mia on the same side together, and Swings and Light on the other.
Mia is doing well and consuming much closer to her regular amounts of grain again. We are back to watering down her servings, which is a hassle in the extreme cold. If it prevents Mia from having further problems, it’s a hassle we will endure.
The high winds in our forecast had not started yet, but when a breeze hit me and made the air biting cold, I suggested we blanket the other horses sooner rather than later. Light was not interested in accepting a blanket and danced a few circles while we made several attempts. About that same time, the hunting dogs started howling in our vicinity. That put Asher in a tizzy of barking in the barn.
Soon, we heard shots being fired in the field next door, and the horses went on high alert. About the time things should have calmed down, one of the hunters could be heard calling his dog pleasantly. That quickly changed from pleasant when it became obvious the hound wasn’t obeying. Cyndie saw the pup slip through the growth on the edge of our property and sniff around one of her gardens. Asher kicked up his barking to a new level.
One of the hunters drove up our driveway to retrieve two of their straying dogs, and we all lived happily ever after.
We left Light blanketless and headed up to the house for our breakfast, tolerating Asher’s unrelenting urge to continue barking throughout our meal. I’ll be interested to see if Light will be a little more accepting of her blanket as the temperature drops throughout the afternoon.
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Found One
The day appears to have arrived when this old Boomer has been forced to adopt the “Block” version of composing my WordPress posts. For a very long time, I have been relying on a link to use what they called “Classic Editor,” but the latest update has eliminated my old path to that option. If my posts look different, it is because I am a newbie in terms of using the “wonderful” (/s) features of the Block mode.
Color me disgruntled.
On to what I was thinking about posting. Last year, at the end of the winter season, I planned to retire a lined flannel outdoor shirt/jacket that had lost a snap closure and had been given two hand-sewn repairs by Cyndie to stretch its life a little further.
We both shopped at length last year, trying to find a replacement. I was particularly interested in seeking out the exact same garment by way of brand name and product numbers. I couldn’t find any proof that it still existed.
New and different versions had some features I was after, but not all of the ones that I wanted. We gave up trying, and I hung the old one on a hook in the closet. When the cold weather finally arrived this winter, I pulled out the same old tattered shirt again, just because.
Of course, it ripped again, this time in a long, gaping, three-way tear that wasn’t worth fixing. I wore it like that anyway for a while but it really was getting ridiculous.
Cyndie searched again and came up with a version from Wrangler that seemed to tick all the boxes. It arrived yesterday, and I am pleased to finally have a replacement winter work shirt jacket with no rips.
Okay, I think I just found Classic Editing. Does this look any different? Honestly, I think one of the more difficult aspects of getting older is not having an interest in whatever the next latest and greatest version of anything is. The world of technology pretty much lost me at touch screens.
A flannel shirt with snap closures, quilted taffeta lining, and side pockets shouldn’t be that hard to come by, no? I don’t want a zipper, buttons, shaggy fleece lining, or a hood, thank you. It wasn’t easy, but we finally found one.
For those of you waiting on pins and needles to find out if Mia pooped, yes, she did. Three and a half times overnight, Wednesday to Thursday. She was eating better all day yesterday and seemed perfectly fine to me. Cyndie is a bit more cautious because Mia isn’t yet back to eating full-sized servings of grain.
I feel bad having her confined to the small paddock when she spends much of her time standing near the fence and staring out into the hay field. It is my hope that she will regain her previous freedoms before today is over. I’m letting Cyndie make the final decision.
Asher and I will just keep giving her puppy eyes to influence her to agree with us that Mia is all better.
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Wild Sunrise
I thought the photo I included in yesterday’s post was an interesting sky but then I captured this view of the sunrise while feeding horses:
Just another day at the office for me.
And I gotta say, these four wonderful horses we take care of have been especially charming to be around lately.
Being a couple of old retired people, Cyndie and I took in a Tuesday matinee at the Hudson Theater to see “A Complete Unknown.” We both thoroughly enjoyed it. I feel sorry for the folks who got upset at the folk festival where Bob Dylan “went electric” in 1965.
It’s really wild to be reclining on the bed in the den with Asher sleeping on me one minute, and then after a mention of the movie idea from Cyndie, find myself sitting in front of the big screen an hour later. If I thought the horses were being charming, Asher is making a case that he is rather irresistible himself.
Timothée Chalamet had me thinking I was hanging out with a young Bob Dylan for a couple of hours there. I found Edward Norton as Pete Seeger to be wonderfully convincing. The movie had me wishing I could relive the unique experience of hearing these Dylan songs for the very first time like so many people in the film were depicted doing.
There are plenty of artists whose music doesn’t grab me until I’ve had time to discover and develop an appreciation for it. I tend to think that would have probably been my experience with Dylan’s early songs if I was old enough at the time to even know they existed. When he was all the rage in the New York folk scene, I was playing with toy trucks in the dirt outside or on the perfectly patterned floor rugs near the bay windows in our old farmhouse.
I do have a memory of hearing “Hurricane” for the first time in 1975 and being mesmerized by the way he told such a dramatic story within the captivating melody.
It’s kind of like looking up to unexpectedly find a fascinating sky at sunrise, unlike anything you’ve seen before.
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Quick Turnaround
It was a novel adventure to hop Asher into the car to scoot up to the lake with little fanfare on Sunday afternoon and then return home the following morning. Cyndie met with a contractor to request a quote for some fixing up that is needed on the dwellings. The trip also gave us a chance to assess the status of the feared mouse infestation we discovered the last time we were up.
A mousetrap I left in a drawer had caught one, but the other trap did not snap despite obvious activity all around it. On the bright side, we found no other evidence of activity, particularly in the bed that was a mess when I climbed into it last time.
Asher was a very busy guy, scrambling to leave his mark everywhere we walked. I let him romp on the ice for a short distance, and he was thrilled to sprint around on the slippery surface, sliding, turning, and leaping in gleeful doggy fun. It’s too bad that our little ice patch in the paddock at home doesn’t offer him the same opportunity. It would be easier for him to leap over it than slide on it.
There were trace amounts of snow up north, but after we got home and went for a walk, it made the absolute lack of snow really stand out to me. Our property feels bone dry. Freeze-dried. Last winter, when we experienced a similar lack of accumulating snow, the temperature frequently rose above freezing. After our recent bout of extremely cold temperatures, the 10-day forecast shows a continued run of normally cold days and no hint of precipitation. This will be a very long spell of below-freezing, yet very dry weather.
So much for the prognostications of a snowier winter this year. At least for now. I have a suspicion there will be a couple of snowstorms here before winter is over.
The later in the season it comes, the greater the likelihood of a quick turnaround after a significant snow event.
In the meantime, I will admit to appreciating the lack of needing to plow and shovel. However, I’m at risk of developing an unhealthy attachment to sedentary pursuits on couches that lend themselves to easy snacking on deliciously salty and crunchy processed foods.
My quest for optimal health has developed a bit of a wobble, dare I say.
I should probably have a serious talk with myself one of these days about putting a quick turnaround on that trend.
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Minor Inconvenience
The cold weather arrived as predicted to grasp us in its firm grip. I suppose it is a sign of my lifetime of exposure to the harshness of season-long snow and cold that this cold snap has barely presented a minor inconvenience to my normal routine.
I’ve complained in the past about growing less and less patient with my slow and laborious effort of donning what I have taken to calling my “spacesuit” before heading out to do chores. The tedious struggle is well worth it though because the crazy cold hasn’t been a problem for me in terms of comfort.
I need to pay attention to the minutes Asher is out because the pads of his paws are vulnerable to the cryogenic extremes. Other than that, he shows no sign of having any problems with the cold.
The horses look to be coping just fine. Breakfast time almost feels warm under the cover provided by the overhang and bathed in the rays of sunlight beaming in during the morning meal.
The main challenge at feeding time in extreme cold is managing the knots on the hay bags. That and scraping away frozen pigeon droppings on the placemats under their feed buckets.
Yesterday, Asher and I even made a successful outing in the car, and the cold didn’t break the seal on any of the tires. He had a grooming appointment in Baldwin that Cyndie usually drives him to, but since she is being a good patient and staying indoors, I became the chauffeur.
I had forgotten that Cyndie mentioned there are cats roaming loose at the dog grooming place. I was taken by surprise when I noticed Asher nose to nose with a big long-haired cat just inside the door. He looked mildly curious but not the least bit threatening as I tensed up and probably triggered him to be more concerned than he initially was.
Luckily, the check-in process happened so fast, there wasn’t time for any problem to erupt.
On a cold day when my preference would be to stay snuggled in and avoid any potential for unexpected driving issues, I was sent out a second time at dusk to pick up a change of meds for treating Cyndie’s pneumonia. She developed a rash from the first prescription.
We are hoping that was just a minor inconvenience on her road to a full recovery.
My trusty car performed well despite the deep freeze. In the end, the most difficult part of the whole day for me was working through the checklist of getting myself in and out of my spacesuit every time I had to walk Asher or do the horse chores.
Remember the old saying, there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.
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Results In
The doc says Cyndie has pneumonia in her right lower lung. Whaaat? She was tested for both types of flu, got a chest X-ray, and had a blood panel done. Interestingly, she learned she has a partially collapsed lung that is a possible residual from one of her surgeries with general anesthesia in the past.
They’ve prescribed an antibiotic and told her she should expect to feel better in 36 to 48 hours. It feels like a deja vu from my experience when I returned from our Iceland adventure. Based on that, I hope she is able to feel better as quickly as I did. I had assumed it would take me weeks to clear my lungs, but that wasn’t the case.
Now, I just need to convince her to behave like a lazy person so her body can recover without delay. That’s not going to be easy. While I was picking up her prescription in River Falls with Asher and then feeding the horses, she went downstairs and took the laundry out of the dryer, and then had dinner waiting for us when we got in.
See what I’m up against. Her excuse for making dinner was that she needed to take her medicine with food and wanted to take the first dose as soon as possible. Okay, dear.
Asher is doing his best to show her what to do to make it easier for her body to recover.
If she won’t listen to me, maybe she’ll pay attention to the examples he’s been demonstrating.
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Nurse John
Personally, I don’t find that my nursing abilities offer all that soothing a touch, and now our head cook has called in sick, so I am faced with pretending I’m a chef in addition to her nurse. No pressure. Only, I’m going up against the comparisons to a person who has nursed and fed me better than one could ever imagine whenever I’ve fallen ill.
It just seems like such an unfair circumstance for Cyndie when she gets sick. Laid low by a fever, she is currently confined to quarters and stuck with me as her primary caregiver. Luckily, she is a very patient patient, and repeatedly tells me I’m providing everything she needs. It never feels like enough to me.
Plus, there’s always the battle against her trying to do things for herself so as not to trouble me as I struggle to anticipate her next move and cut her off in the nick of time by getting her the ice pack or warming her heating pad in the microwave.
Nurse John is not that much fun when he gets grumpy as he is trying to soothe what ails the patient and serve Malt-O-Meal and toast before it gets cold.
I am thrilled with how sensitive Asher is to Cyndie’s not feeling well. Instead of being a pest and demanding more roughhouse play, he has chosen to mirror her as a way of showing his support.
Right up until he hears something outside that requires a rant of “big boy” barks followed by some half-hearted “woofs.” I’m sure that does wonders for her headache. At least he gets back to the mirroring part in short order.
That allows me to practice a little of that mirroring support of my own, although I suspect that technique is not included in the practices one would find in the nursing handbooks, not to mention that it leaves the kitchen looking a frightful mess.
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Paw Prints
As a result of the fraction of an inch of snow coating surfaces outside, we get new opportunities each morning to see where all the nocturnal visitors have tread around our grounds. The other day, I found some decent-sized canine prints on Paddock Lake that could easily have been a coyote passing through.
Lately, I’ve been thinking that the neighbor’s cat that practically lives on our property might be polydactyl. This morning there were some very clear prints on the driveway that revealed I was probably seeing double.
What I was seeing in most cases is the result of the hind paw landing in the same spot as a front one. When they don’t align so closely, it becomes much easier to see what’s happening.
What I haven’t been seeing in numbers like years past are hoof prints from deer. Maybe that explains why we saw so few hunters in the woods around us this year. No deer, no reason to hunt.
If the weather forecast proves accurate, we will probably lose what little snow cover we’ve got by the end of the weekend.
Then it returns to Asher being the only one to know where the critters have traveled in the hours before we show up on our morning walks. When tracks are fresh, he becomes maniacally obsessive about urgently following the scent. I don’t remember seeing “bloodhound” in the list of breeds identified by his DNA, but it sure seems like he thinks he is one sometimes.
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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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Relative Something 