Posts Tagged ‘dog’
Bird Dog
In the last couple of weeks, our dog, Asher, has turned into something of a bird dog. It started simply enough one day when a pigeon in the barn underestimated Asher’s speed and jumping ability. As soon as Asher gets prey in his mouth, he executes a perfect “soft carry” and paces around with notable purpose.
Cyndie recognized it right away and let him out of the barn to find a place to bury his prize.
Asher demonstrates a classic nose push to cover his treasure.
Soon after bringing him from his foster family to our home, we discovered Asher’s natural inclination to bury bones that we were hoping would occupy him for hours of gnawing. Asher has mad skill at burying things.
After that first capture, I noticed Asher developed a singular focus on returning to the barn for another chance. When we would head out on an exploratory walk around the property, I could only distract him with my agenda for a few minutes before he redirected our heading toward the barn from any point we were at.
Eventually, I began taking advantage of his compulsion and left him alone in the barn while I accomplished other tasks. He could run to and fro in there and bark while the pigeons flapped around in the rafters. I expected him to get bored with the game, but he’s pretty persistent.
I can’t blame him. His persistence paid off. Of the 18 different breeds identified by his DNA, he seems pretty tuned in on the 16% Labrador Retriever in bird dog skills. Cyndie texted me that Asher got another pigeon. I don’t know how the birds are losing this battle with him, given their wings and the many high perches available to them.
It sounds like the third one he got yesterday afternoon was surprised by the back door entry into the dark barn by Cyndie and the dog. She said she could feel by his actions in the dark that he probably had some critter in his mouth as they walked the length of the barn to reach the light switches.
Sure enough, he caught another pigeon.
We aren’t complaining because the number of pigeons has been increasing exponentially of late, and there is pigeon shit accumulating everywhere, inside and out. However, Cyndie ends up interrupting her horse services to give him a chance to bury the birds. She prefers that he bury them rather than begin devouring them on the spot.
I’m hoping some nighttime predator will dig them up and take the bodies away before Asher ever gets around to remembering that he buried these little bird-dog trophies.
Maybe that 5th breed on the list of his DNA percentages (he’s 6% Chihuahua) will distract him enough from remembering where he buries them. At this point, he seems much more interested in the hunt and the reward of another fresh capture.
His persistence indicates he believes there’s always potential for one more to be snatched.
.
.
Appreciating Here
Day two of my intentional news avoidance exercise was a smashing success yesterday. The resulting calm was doubly rewarding when compared with the week before when junk mail and phone spam were at an all-time high. The morning began with a thick fog, which gave the early routine a wonderfully mysterious feel.
Sometimes, the fog puts the horses on edge because they rely on visibility to survey for potential threats. Yesterday, they weren’t showing heightened nerves and promptly buried their noses in their feed buckets, which puts them in an almost vegetative state after one mouthful.
Asher was incredibly patient with me as I traipsed around the paddocks, scooping manure into the wheelbarrow. I rewarded him with an extended walk in the north loop field before heading back to the house for his breakfast.
We revisited that field later in the afternoon, and he went wild following the scent of some creature. There were several circles where deer had laid down that interested him but it is known that bunnies live in that field, too.
Other visitors we’ve seen in that field include skunks, raccoons, foxes, pheasants, turkeys, and grouse. However, the culprit that probably most interests Asher is the neighbor’s cat that makes regular incursions into our territory.
Standing in the field while Asher rooted around, I felt a wave of renewed appreciation for this place we call home. We’ve had some rain to take the edge off the drought, and the sun was out all afternoon, warming things considerably.
We stopped for a pause in the rocking chair at the lookout knoll on the top of the first hill on the driveway. From that vantage point, we couldn’t see anything wrong with the world. We all know that isn’t true, but it makes the tranquility here all the more precious.
It practically obligates me to banish harsh news media from disturbing our peace.
.
.
Felt Hot
Yesterday was day two in the 80s and combined with the drought we are experiencing, it felt rather unsatisfying around here. Admittedly, being unsatisfied with warmth in October isn’t something we usually express, but it’s because the warmth was actually annoyingly hot.
At least we enjoyed the benefit of having our windows open overnight, so the hoots of our forest owls were easy to hear.
If I was still tied to a day-job, I would have called in yesterday and claimed a mental health day. Instead, I just showed up for chores a few minutes late. Maybe it’s because it was a Monday, even though Mondays are no longer the dreaded burden like they were for 40-some years of my gainful employment.
Of course, for Sunday sports fans, football game losses and Championship WNBA game 5 losses can easily cast a pall of gloom that carries over into Mondays. That is something that doesn’t affect dogs, horses, or spouses who can take or leave team athletic competitions with zero residual impact.
“Honey, our unbeaten streak is over!”
“Oh? Can you unload the dishwasher for me?”
Asher just wanted to go outside and run after his favorite yard ball with a rope through the middle of it. That is a game in which he requires a person to act like they want possession of the ball more than he does.
Yesterday, I would have preferred to unload a dishwasher.
Eventually, despite the heat, I managed to drag myself down by the road to do battle in some of our thickest undergrowth to eradicate more buckthorn shoots that had sprouted from stumps I had cut the year before. I coerced Cyndie into coming along to help point out locations because when I get in the middle of things, I tend to overlook opportunities that are often right behind me or practically underfoot.
After lunch, I made my way down along the fence line on the far side of the hay field with the pole chainsaw trimmer to clear out low-hanging box elder tree branches that were beginning to droop too close to the top wire. My desire to have those branches cut down has increased every day that I’ve walked Asher along that pathway for the last few months.
It feels so great to have them finally dispatched that I find I no longer care about what happened in Sunday’s sports competitions.
Although, carrying the heavy pole saw all the way back from the far side of the field in the high heat kept me from feeling too much in the way of jubilance.
The first thought I had when I eventually returned to the house was that it was too hot to be wearing socks. I’m hoping the local meteorologist’s claim that yesterday would be the last time we reach 80 this year proves accurate.
I am very ready for some weather that deserves warm socks.
.
.
Authorized Destruction
Elysa gave Asher a new toy a while back that quickly became his absolute favorite. It was an interactive “Tearrible” stuffed creature with limbs attached by Velcro strips.
He starts right away with the frantic “kill shake” that often immediately dismembers one or more of the Velcroed appendages. Then he stomps a paw on the body and emphatically rips the remaining arm/leg/tail/ears loose and spits them out to the side. This is all perfectly by design and is as rewarding for him to do as it is for us to observe.
Once he gets down to just the body, Asher runs around with it like a prize, usually pushing it up against one of us in hopes of instigating a tug-of-war game over the now-damp stuffed toy.
It is at this point that he begins to take the dissecting a little too far. If we don’t take it away, his next favorite thing to do is chew vigorously at the edges of the Velcro strips and eventually shred the fabric enough to start pulling the stuffing out of it.
Cyndie has sewn up the wounds countless times and worked hard to salvage the body despite the dwindling functionality of attaching limbs after the shape has become distorted and the Velcro less functional. Since Asher loves the toy so much, Cyndie has replaced worn-out ones with brand-new purchases several times.
A little while ago, she decided to write to the company and share her experiences with trying to keep the toy functional. Cyndie offered a suggestion they try making the body out of a tougher fabric for dogs like ours that like to play extra rough.
She received a wonderful response thanking her for the information and was invited to sign up for announcements of their occasional fire hose version that always sells out right away. The company also asked about the size versions we have and offered to replace the bodies at no charge, after confirming that all the detachable pieces are still good.
Boy, did that make Asher happy! And a happy dog makes for happy owners.
It’s hard to describe how much fun it is to watch Asher having such a good time getting the Velcro to come apart with that rewarding riiiiipping sound and the way he loses no time in tossing the freed piece to the side and instantly chomping down on the next rippable limb.
He definitely has the predator gene driving his instincts when it comes to plush toy play. Is it weird that he seems to develop a smile whenever we give him a chance to “kill” his toy?
.
.
Wet Web
.
Early morning dew drops cling to a spider web on a gate in the southwest corner of the back pasture. We frequently emerge from the woods at this spot on morning walks with Asher. He almost always tries to choose the fork to the right on the trail that follows the fence line all the way to the road. Each time I remind him that we are on our way to the barn to feed the horses. The fork to the left follows the fence line around the back pasture and leads to the barn.
When we come around the corner where the barn becomes visible, I try to greet the horses in a normal voice (not shouting), just to let them know it’s us. I don’t want to startle them first thing in the day. It’s very rewarding to tend to them when they remain very mellow throughout our arrival and subsequent activity.
We had a busy day of appointments yesterday. I started with a follow-up visit to the Physical Therapist for my shoulder and leg issues. Cyndie had a dentist appointment (or so she thought; it’s today, actually), followed by a doctor’s visit for an infection. Cyndie pulled a leech off her toe over the weekend and it didn’t end well.
That meant I was the one to take Asher to the vet for his out-of-control itching problem. The big guy weighed in at 85.5 pounds. His temperature was normal. Anti-itch meds were prescribed. He also got shots for vaccines and a blood draw for analysis. We are also giving him over-the-counter Benadryl doses. He was pretty wiped out last night and appeared to sleep soundly for a change.
The vet wants us to bathe him once a week. That’s a battle we have chosen to avoid until now. Asher has not been cooperative in past attempts to get him wet. It’s time for us to develop a routine that works.
I suppose we could leave him out all night so dew droplets condense all over him.
Or, maybe not.
.
.
What Odds
What are the odds of receiving a book as a gift from a friend and discovering it was written by someone you know? For me, it is 100%. Our friends, Pam and John found a book they thought I would appreciate, “Nutshells: Diversions in a Time of Pandemic” by Doug Wilhide. I do appreciate it. Doug was a regular participant in the annual June biking and camping week back when I started riding what is now the Tour of Minnesota.
Our joint participation overlapped for a lot of years. Doug shares my interest in several passions, including writing. There is also singing and, of course, riding bikes. I just saw Doug again last June at the social/reunion held in Waconia on the rest day of our 50th anniversary ride. That was a special treat.
What are the odds of finding a fancy-colored maple leaf on the driveway before the leaves on our trees show obvious signs of changing?
Pretty good, I’d say, especially after a big storm wind that could carry leaves great distances has recently blown.
There were 2” of rain in the gauge yesterday morning after two rounds of lightning, thunder, and heavy rain pounded us overnight.
There was also standing water on our trails in the woods and the tall grass that is overdue for mowing stayed wet all day since the dew point remained high.
What are the odds that the whole body itching that Asher is dealing with is from some environmental cause? He’s going to visit the vet later this morning to see if they can come up with a diagnosis. It’s been bothering him for days and it seems to be getting worse instead of better.
He seemed feverish yesterday which triggered our request to get him seen between previously scheduled appointments. Poor guy can’t get comfortable and frequently stops on walks to scratch.
Since the grass was too wet to mow yesterday, I resorted to using the power trimmer to clean up beneath the wires of the electric fence.
Looking back at the distance I covered is rewarding.
Looking ahead at the amount still to do is not as rewarding.
What are the odds I can get the rest of that distance done on one tank of gas? I’d say about 50/50 if I don’t get distracted and start cutting more than just the fence line. Sometimes tall weeds grab my attention or I follow a side rut that’s been dug to encourage water to flow to the main drainage ditch along our south border. Those other areas deserve to be trimmed, too, but it just means I don’t get as far down the fence on a tank of gas.
Like so many projects on our property, I think I benefit from not trying to finish the entire fence line all at once. The odds are better for my body if I mix a variety of activities in a day.
This morning I will be starting with a visit to Physical Therapy for my shoulder and aching leg to improve the odds I’ll get over the pesky pains I’ve been living with this month. We are down to 8 days until departing for Iceland to become tourists on that scenic island country.
What are the odds I’ll be able to hike pain-free after trying to sleep sitting upright on a plane for long hours? This would be a good time for me to dwell in [positive] possibilities.
.
.
Asher Observes
It was day two of entertaining our dog, Asher yesterday while trying to complete my mowing goals before departing for the lake today. By the time it started to sprinkle on us with some light rain, I just had the back hill left to cut. Weather radar indicated significant rain was not an immediate threat, so I mowed despite the dampness.
That meant Asher needed to entertain himself in the house. He seemed satisfied with that after hanging out with me earlier in the day while I trimmed along the north loop trail. Asher nestled in the tall grass so that it looked like he was hiding.
He was very patient while I toiled away so I let him choose the route for a long walk after I finished trimming. When we reached a vantage point where Asher could see all the horses grazing in the hay field, he sat down to watch them. While he was happy being stationary, I waited with him and finished my daily word games on my phone.
During our last walk of the day, after he had waited inside while I finished mowing, Asher again sat down and observed the horses.
This is such a satisfying behavior for us. Maybe someday we can allow him to sit and observe the world without being leashed. Last week, Cyndie was working on training Asher to be off-leash and respect our property boundaries and twice she ended up needing to retrieve him from the neighbor’s yard. I’ve kept him tethered full-time this week during my days of solo supervision.
At least he’s grown out of the urge to constantly chew through any leash constraining his freedom.
I’m looking forward to some freedom from dog duty for a few days. Our friends, Pam and John will be here to care for our animals again over the weekend.
Asher will be observing their cat –from a safe distance. Their little princess, Pumba, stays behind a closed door since Asher is not reliably friendly with visiting pets, especially not ones of the feline variety.
Off to the lake, I go once more!
.
.
Feel-Good Moments
It’s been a long time since there’s been much to hope for in the US political scene. Yesterday, Kamala Harris announced her choice for running mate was Minnesota Governor, Tim Walz. It’s given fresh hope to all the people exhausted with the negative energy that has dominated the scene for far too long.
The thrilling crowd response to the appearance of the pair at their rally in Philadelphia could be felt through my TV. The ovation was robust and sustained.
It was a definite feel-good moment. I hope the good energy survives the attacks that will get hurled at them by opponents throughout the rest of the campaign.
I don’t know if they will be able to convince skeptics that the Earth is not flat, but there should be no reason for reasonable people to misunderstand the message of hope for the future expressed in their campaign speeches.
Asher and I cooperated in accomplishing some feel-good moments of our own yesterday. I brought him along to cut down a leaning tree across one of our trails and leashed him to the barn so he could watch me do some mowing. The rest of the day he patiently lounged around in the house until I returned. When I stopped for lunch, I was able to catch the end of the US Women’s Soccer win over Germany and later, I got back to the house in time to see Kamala Harris introduce Tim Walz at the rally.
It’s not easy accomplishing such a range of desires in a limited time when I’m home alone. I’ve still got a lot of mowing to do and there’s always exciting Olympic competition to see on TV at the same time as needing to entertain Asher and tend to the horses. Our trails need more trimming, too, but I won’t get to everything before it’s time to join Cyndie at the lake again tomorrow.
Getting the essential tasks done is a little less dreary after this burst of positive energy on the US political scene. Here’s hoping it just continues to build for the next three months and then carries on for years beyond that. You betcha.
.
.
Sleep Deprivation
All day long the rain came down. Every so often there were rumbles of thunder. Periodically, downpours would roar or big winds blew. If I didn’t speak, those were the predominant sounds beyond the energized reporting of Olympic sports commentators droning from the TV. I’m home alone with the animals for a few days.
If I didn’t have the Olympic broadcasts keeping me company, I’d probably do a lot more talking to myself. Asher isn’t much of a conversationalist.
I’m feeling rather short of words lately. Hanging out with Asher and the horses doesn’t require me to talk much. One might think that would result in more mental resources for writing but I’m not finding that to be the case right now.
It would be nice if that mental blankness would allow me to sleep soundly but Sunday night’s dream saga of me striving to achieve something that continuously eluded success and appeared to consume way more time than was available was unsettling. I would slide toward consciousness from the dream and lament that it felt like I was mentally working so hard, then fall back to sleep and into more of the same type of dream. It became exhausting when I was supposed to be resting.
One thing that the annoying overnight dream-disturbed sleep made easier was falling into naps all day yesterday, even when I didn’t intend to. Since Asher wasn’t feeling at all like napping, his whining was able to disrupt any serious sleep recovery a reasonable nap would have provided. With nothing but falling rain happening outside, it would have been a great day to nap.
Instead, I found myself getting soaked while giving Asher chances to stop whining on walks in the rain.
I sure am glad the horses don’t need me to take them for walks.
Let’s hear it for the rejuvinating benefits of a sound night’s sleep with nothing but sweet dreams throughout.
.
.
Storm Repellent
I don’t know how it works but our location has enjoyed the good fortune of appearing storm-resistant this year. Too many times to count during this spring and summer, I have checked the radar with storms looming and found a seam over our house between blocks of the most intense weather. Last night, it was even more surprising because there was no separation in the storm blob approaching us, but then it just stopped.
We could hear the thunder for almost an hour but when the storm finally began to make progress moving east, the lightning bolts all passed to our south.
The news reported hail up to the size of baseballs from some of these storms so we were very happy to have the worst of it miss us once again. Keeping our fingers crossed that this severe weather dodging luck stays with us for as long as possible.
We are also extremely happy to have a dog who is not bothered by lightning and thunder.
Asher shows no concern about wild weather which contributes greatly to our ability to maintain calm indoors while the sky is rumbling outside.
Maybe the credit for the storm-repellent we’ve been blessed with this year should go to Asher.
.
.
Relative Something 