Posts Tagged ‘dog’
Time Again
As predicted, this morning was warm enough that snow was sticky and melting. There was plenty of moisture in the air, but it wasn’t exactly foggy. There was something of a spooky feel to the ambiance of the ranch.
Delilah didn’t seem to care, as she pulled hard against her leash in a rush to get to the next scent that was always just beyond the one she just checked. The horses were out of the paddock, milling along the fence between the hay-field and the back pasture. They weren’t on the same side of the fence, which is nothing new.
Last night, Legacy was in the pasture and the other three were in the hay-field. This morning, Dezirea was alone in the hay-field.
Suddenly, a loud crack from a rifle echoed between the hills and the horses nervously adjusted their positions in response. I discovered that the pans of feed that I had set out last night were left untouched under the barn overhang.
A couple of the chestnuts had obviously been through the paddock to change their location, but apparently they didn’t bother to come up to the barn. It’s that time again. Deer hunting season started this morning at sunrise. Gun shots started last night. I guess they were making sure their guns worked.
More shots rang out. I’m not sure how far the sound carries, but it gives me the impression there are a lot of hunters in action in a relatively small area around us. How do they keep from shooting at each other, I wonder. And, are there really that many deer out and about right now?
If our horses are on alert, I expect the deer are just as keen to notice the sounds and would be inclined to make themselves even more scarce than usual.
I walked Delilah through the paddock toward the horses in the pasture by the round pen. Legacy responded to our presence and approached the closed gate between us. To accommodate their skittishness, I opened that gate to save them walking around to the one that we leave open. I guided them toward the hay feeder and then walked around to do the same for Dezirea from the hay-field.
More gun shots. The horses let the lure of the hay override their urge to flee. I wandered up to the barn and shook the feed pan, which initially startled their panic response, but then drew them up to eat, albeit in hurried fits of anxiety.
Delilah took full advantage of the all-she-could-eat-buffet of manure droppings that were reappearing within the melting snow, as I just stood calmly to assure the horses that they were safe. At the edge of the pine forest across the road from us, a lone figure in blaze orange appeared to be standing sentinel. His jacket must have been old and dirty, because when two figures appeared across the snowy field from him, their outfits outshone his to the point of looking electrically illuminated.
No sign of any hunting success. From the sound of all the shots being fired, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
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Coming Home
Cyndie will be coming home from the hospital today! All the small rugs have been removed from the floors and I’ve cleaned away unnecessary clutter in preparation for her return. I’m heading to the hospital early and hope to have her home by noon. She’ll need to negotiate three steps to get into the house, but then she should have minimal hazards for life on our main floor. I haven’t been able to eliminate all hazards. For instance, Delilah will be so excited to see Cyndie that she will want to jump all over her.
I will be happy to have her home, but not quite as excited as Delilah. I had a couple of days of free sailing with Cyndie receiving full-time care at the hospital. With her home, I become the person responsible for her care, in addition to my other duties maintaining our property and tending to the animals. Luckily, I will have some occasional support from Cyndie’s mom and maybe even a home-healthcare nurse who can check on how the incision is healing.
Any amount of time I can safely be out of the house will now be spent constructing a couple of slow feeder boxes. Yesterday, I picked up the grates from “my welder.” They look just like what I was hoping to get. They should, since they were custom-built to my specifications.
At the rate the horses have been dumping hay all over the ground around the present feeders, I feel a strong urge to get these boxes built as quickly as possible. I sure hope my plan to scrounge enough wood for two boxes will work out.
For all those times I have saved leftover lumber at the end of a project, it would be nice to finally experience some justification for the practice, and actually find a productive use for it.
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Finally Time
Today is the last day in our long countdown to Cyndie’s hip replacement surgery. This surgery is something that could have happened a long time ago. She was directed to try a variety of alternative treatments for the arthritic joint over the years, with the intent of delaying the inevitable artificial hip for as long as possible. None of them have been as effective as we would have liked.
The time has come.
It is interesting to observe the ever-determined woman working to execute her plan of organizing everything in her life in preparation for the weeks of recovery that lie ahead, while already being virtually incapacitated by the pain and suffering that currently limit her ability to function.
We’ve operated in the mode of her recovering from a surgical procedure enough times to pretty much know the drill now. I will need to do all the driving for her for probably 6-weeks. I become full-time dog walker, which isn’t a big change, as her ability to do that has declined over the days.
Delilah is beginning to reflect the change in primary care-giver by fixating on me more often than on Cyndie. Hopefully, that will reduce her tendency to jump up on Cyndie in search of affection during the recovery period. I’ll just need to stay on my guard as the target of that energy and be sure to get her outside at frequent intervals to run around and wear herself out.
Today she can be outside watching me clear the little bit of snow that fell yesterday. We got just enough to cover everything, but hardly enough to justify plowing. Still, it needs to be removed to keep surfaces clear and safely navigable. In a few days we’ll end up bringing Cyndie home from the hospital with a new hip.
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Theory Proved
Once again, we have added proof toward the theory that being prepared means you won’t find your preparations necessary. Our readiness obviously contributed to shifting the first major winter storm this year just far enough north that we didn’t end up receiving a plow-able amount of snow. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean we didn’t face hazardous travel conditions. We received just enough sleet and freezing rain to make the road conditions downright dangerous. Heck, I almost suffered an adrenaline overdose just walking down to the barn, given how many times I slipped, causing my body to involuntarily panic in reaction.
I took Delilah for a walk around the property and spied plenty of tracks in the snow. Finally I can see what the heck she is reacting to when her nose picks up a scent and pulls her off course from the trail. We came across the foot prints of deer, squirrel, rabbit, cat, and probably raccoon, too. There were obvious soil disturbances from moles and a couple of well worn trails where mice left a snow-less path.
At one point on our walk, the woods burst to life with movement as we disrupted the largest flock of wild turkeys I have ever happened upon. Many took to the air, but plenty stayed on foot and made their way ahead of us to maintain a safe distance. I’m happy to report that Delilah didn’t over-react and pull my arm out of the socket in chase. She seemed a little perplexed with the sheer number of options, and after taking in the spectacle, I guess just decided it was too many from which to pick. Her nose went back to the ground and she carried on with her trail surveillance.
We walked up to the neighbor’s house to deliver a fresh-baked apple pie as a token of appreciation for the incredible effort of splitting firewood for me. I worked again this afternoon on moving more wood from the pile of recently split logs over to stacks in the woodshed, and still haven’t finished. My neighbor helped me split a lot of wood.
Delilah gladly accepted my offer to let her nap in the freshly tidied kennel while I worked. I think she adored the opportunity to be out in the fresh winter air. The horses weren’t so keen about staying out in the freezing rain. It is always fun to see how much they like coming inside the barn to get out of cold and wet weather.
What little snow we did receive created a good visual of the newly defined drainage swale through the pasture. Maybe the fact that we now have that feature in place will end up limiting the winter precipitation to an amount that the swale won’t be needed. Just a theory.
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Bring It
The predictions for our weather being significantly stormy today have continued to intensify. Meteorologists report that all computer models remain in agreement for a potential of over a foot of snow in our region by Tuesday. Cyndie and I are ready. We say, “Bring it on!” I haven’t asked the horses what they think about it.
We worked hard yesterday to tackle everything within our power that needed to be addressed before a lot of snow covers it all up. As we went along, we found little things to add to our list of preparations. It’s quite possible that I have never been as ready for a first significant snowfall of the season as I am today.
With Cyndie’s help, despite an ailing arthritic hip, I finished making a raised area around the hay feeder in the paddock. That also means we were able to use up the left-over pile of lime screenings.
We rearranged equipment in the shop garage to move plow blades and snow tires to the front for easy access, and piled lawn care accessories out of the way in back. I went so far as to clean out leaves that had collected in nooks and crannies around the house and shop walkways where I will soon be trying to shovel snow.
We re-hung tarps on the walls of Delilah’s kennel to give her added shelter. She was thrilled to be present while we worked, chasing mice that popped out when Cyndie disturbed a nest while sweeping out the corners.
Yesterday morning I was teasing Cyndie with a query about whether we had enough toilet paper to survive the coming storm, since that is a common item that gets purchased when harsh weather is approaching. She assured me we did, but later in the day, as we rearranged vehicles to get the truck parked under a roof, she decided to make a run to fill the gas tank and pick up some groceries.
She brought home more toilet paper.
All that is left to do is let nature take its course and invite winter over to make itself comfortable at Wintervale. Seems like the picture above will be the last glimpse of dry ground we’ll see for a few months.
Bring it on, we say. We think we are ready.
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Grooming Session
The horses were long overdue for some serious grooming, and yesterday Cyndie was able to give each of the 4 of them a thorough cleaning. Of course, this morning a couple of them have already found ways to grind in some new dirt. Apparently, they won’t have a chance to roll in dirt tomorrow, because the ground will be covered with snow. Weather forecasters have updated their prediction to a high likelihood of a significant snowfall event tomorrow.
Looking at the weather this morning, I don’t get any inkling of the impending mayhem. It brings to mind the deadly storm that occurred on Nov. 11, 1940, the Armistice Day Blizzard. Thank goodness for the improvements in weather forecasting that have evolved since that time. If you want to see some in-depth detail of what is being forecast (as of 10:14 p.m. last night) for our region tomorrow, check out this post on my favorite weather blog, Updraft, from MPR news. It paints a pretty dramatic picture of what to expect.
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As I toiled away on my projects yesterday, moving dirt and pea gravel around the paddocks, Cyndie focused her attention on the horses. It was a treat to see how much they seemed to relish the attention. It was so calm and quiet I almost burst with appreciation for the pleasantness of the moment.
Delilah was restrained on a leash nearby, and when she started barking for attention, I moved her closer to the action. That seemed to satisfy her needs and she laid down in the mid-day sun to regally observe the activity. The horses alternated between lining up for the grooming appointment and strolling down to graze along the fence outside the paddock or out on the hay-field hill.
Most of all, it was blessedly quiet. The air was filled with contentment, …a striking contrast to what is predicted to befall our little paradise tomorrow. Now I need to go batten down some hatches. There’s a storm a comin’!
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Scary Sound
Last week, in the middle of the day when I was sitting in the house having lunch, there was a crash in the garage that was so loud that I was hesitant to even look to see what it was. It sounded like something had crashed against the inside wall, just feet away from where I was sitting.
I imagined a critter of some sort. It would have needed to be the size of a bison. I tried to think what hung on that wall that could have come loose and crashed down. If someone, or some animal, was in there, I wasn’t up for the confrontation. I kept eating.
After lunch, as I meandered about, washing my utensils and plate, throwing away trash, walking toward the door to toss recycling… I decided to take a look.
Nothing.
There was nothing amiss. No shelves tipped over. Nothing that had fallen off the wall. As I describe this, it occurs to me that I should have suspected a tree branch out back. That’s what it ended up being last time I went through this experience of trying to identify what caused the crash I heard that sounded like this.
With no evidence apparent, I went about my business and quickly forgot all about it …until much later when Cyndie arrived home. The second that I heard the garage door opener failing to lift the door for her, I realized what had caused that sound. The torsion spring that counter-balances the weight of the door had broken!
It took until yesterday to get a garage door service technician to show up. After two days of delay and rescheduling, I expected him to show in the morning to take measurements that would allow him to get the proper spring on order. When he didn’t show up, or call, I began to struggle with deciding to seek an alternative company.
Why is it so hard to get people to show up here to do work for us? Well, in this case, it is because he is an owner of a 2-person business and they have more work than they can handle expediently. I had left him a message, and was awaiting a reply that would help me decide about calling someone else for assistance.
Hours passed, in which I cleaned the garage, raked leaves, and chased Delilah through the woods after she darted out the door when I was hoping to give her some time off leash, running for tossed discs. She fooled me and took off like a shot, after squirrels in the neighboring woods, instead of for my stupid flying discs. Bad dog!
My faith in humanity was salvaged when Brian finally called in the late afternoon to report he was on his way and had picked up springs he thought would be the correct ones. I got a quick lesson in some very simple steps I could have done to maintain the doors in good working order. He tightened loose nuts. That’s something I could have easily taken care of, had I simply done a close visual inspection. He adjusted one track, and lubricated all the rollers and the spring, itself. I would not have known to do the spring.
Think about it. Every time the door opens and closes, the spring torques and it is rubbing against itself on both sides of each coil. Lubricate it. I can do that!
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Business Meeting
Monday morning there was a meeting in the main office at Wintervale Ranch that had been called by the Ranch Manager, (me). Cyndie wasn’t able to attend, as she was away at her day-job, being the sole earner of income for our endeavor during this phase of the operation. Luckily, she was able to participate via post-it notes, on which she had written and submitted several job requests in the last few seconds prior to heading out the door.
First order of business was that the Head Groundskeeper, (me), wanted some space saved in the day for mowing the grass by the road, as that area had been skipped last time mowing was done. Hopefully, this will be the final required cut of the season. The Facility Manager, (me) felt the mowing would be possible, but the fence posts needed to be stained first, since Monday was probably the last warm fall day that would allow for that to be done.
That staining hadn’t happened yet because the Buyer, (me) had failed to procure the needed brush for the job. Cyndie’s Assistant, (me) would be able to make that brush purchase while on errands to the pharmacy and the vet/dog groomer to make appointments for Delilah.
Somehow, by the end of the day it all got accomplished, plus the laundry, too. I also managed to finally get around to fixing the weatherstrip on the door between the heated shop and the unheated garage, as well as remounting the extra sheet of plastic over the shop window for the heating season. I even tacked on sweeping up some leaves and mowing the yard by the house, because that grass has continued to grow longer than I want it to be over the winter.
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The horses were fed the new, reduced portion of morning and afternoon feed, after our vet told us to cut back even more on the amount. The herd is not burning enough calories to warrant the amounts we have been serving. The dog and cat were fed and given plenty of attention. Pequenita asserted herself with an unauthorized charge through the door into the garage in the afternoon. She is always looking for some new challenge. Apparently, she is no longer satisfied with the challenges presented by Delilah’s over-zealous dog-style altercations.
With much cooler temperatures predicted for today, the primary focus of attention will probably be directed toward firewood, although there are still plenty of brush piles that need to be converted to wood chips. The staff will just have to meet to discuss what the best order of tasks should be for the day.
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Behavior Modification
I’ve been taking it slow and easy the last few days, as I’m feeling twinges in my back that tell me I’m on the verge of an episode. I’m trying not to forget that I shouldn’t bend over, or even, lean forward. That is easy to remember after I am in dire pain, but prior to that, it is something that doesn’t happen naturally for me. I’m always leaning forward, it seems.
As a result, Delilah and I have been doing a lot of walking. With her confined to being on a leash, it is something convenient we can do together. I have been walking her in circuits around the perimeter of our property, in both directions, with repetition. Part of me feels like it might help convey the boundary of what is ours. It will help to have her familiar with our property-line if I end up needing to use a shock collar to train her not to cross that border.
I’ve read that training dogs with positive reinforcement works better than negative, but I have a hard time rewarding her for staying with us (how will she know that is what we are rewarding?) in a way that will inform her that it means she shouldn’t stray. It seems so much more immediate to address misbehavior as it happens.
I have taken to doing just that, indoors, the last couple of days. Delilah has moments of frenetic energy over spotting a critter out the window, in which she frantically claws at the window, ignoring any and all admonishment for her to stop. I’ve taken to immediately putting her on a leash and securing her to a spot away from any windows. Training against her negative behaviors. What is the other option? Give her a treat whenever she isn’t clawing the window?
Obviously, I haven’t gotten this dog training thing down yet.
With my repeated trekking of our trails, I kept seeing where branches and trees needed to be cut back. I finally gave in and brought a saw with me yesterday morning. I hooked Delilah’s leash to a tree and started sawing, doing my best to pay attention to my back. She immediately tried to help. If I threw a stick out of the way, she would go get it and bring it back.
She wandered around, through, and under branches to collect as many burrs as she could find, then barked at me when she couldn’t figure out how to get back out again. I did as much clearing as I could with the one little saw I brought with me, and then vowed to return after lunch with more weapons. I needed a shovel to dig root bundles and rocks; a pole saw to get high branches; an ax to chop out roots; and a tree felling wedge to keep my saw from getting pinched.
I spent the second half of the day lumberjacking. Imagine how well that went while trying to be cognizant of my fragile lumbar discs, at the same time I was also trying to convince Delilah I didn’t need the help she was offering.
It just occurred to me, maybe I need to start giving myself treats whenever I don’t do something ill-advised for a guy with degenerating discs. Positive reinforcement behavior modification. Think it would work?
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Measured Freedom
I spotted a recent invitation to connect with an old acquaintance on the career oriented networking site, Linked In, and in a moment of spontaneous whimsy, decided to update my profile to reflect my recent employment change to full-time ranch manager. Who knows? One of my connections there might someday be seeking advice about manure management or moving from suburbia to the agricultural countryside.
As manager, I have decided I should begin establishing and documenting our ranch policies. First off, all visitors arriving from West African countries, Spain, or Dallas, TX, will need to have their temperature measured before entering the property. Also, as a proactive measure, anyone even thinking of visiting the countries of West Africa will be checked for a fever.
Forgive me if that seems insensitive, but my coping method for dangerous or intense situations often involves attempts at humor. That runs the risk of offending if someone reading happens to be directly affected or involved. No offense intended.
Maybe that is why I find myself making so many wisecracks about manure. You see, the title of “Ranch Manager” is just a nice way of labeling the job of manure collector. Sure, I also take care of the dog and cat, manage the maintenance of our fleet of machines, tend to the grounds keeping and forest management, and am the general contractor for all improvement projects, but those activities all happen while I am at the same time scooping up manure.
Yesterday, true to my word, I kept Delilah confined to a leash the entire time I was working on projects. She got one break for exercise when I unleashed her to chase flying discs. When I was working, I always knew where she was. I would describe her reaction to being leashed as, contrite.
I’m pretty confident she understands what is going on. Countless times she has demonstrated a memory for something from a day before. If she was remembering her little escapades from Tuesday, and wanting to return to those adventures, being confined to the distance of her leash was a clear manifestation of having her freedom revoked.
I think both she and I are looking forward to the day we get back to practicing her appropriate measure of free run.
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Relative Something 