Posts Tagged ‘pets’
Avoiding Calamity
More than six inches of rain caused flooding in New York City yesterday. Our property was surrounded by massive lightning-filled blobs on radar but the areas of greatest intensity just missed our exact location. At sunrise, when I would normally be walking Asher and tending to the horses, dramatic rain and thunder were peaking in intensity.
When I finally ventured out between the waves of rain, I found the horses squeezed under one side of the overhang, understandably jumpy. The roar on the metal roof when precipitation is heavy amps up the drama factor considerably.
As I made my way cautiously around and between the frequently rearranging foursome to clean up manure, the threat of potential calamity was noticeably increased. Avoiding an unfortunate issue relies on luck as much as intelligent decision-making.
As far as I can tell, the horses weren’t aware of the flooding in New York. They don’t know that the dysfunction of elected officials in the U.S. Government is once again threatening a shutdown of our federal workers. They have no idea that health insurance premiums continue to climb out of balance with individual incomes. (Cyndie moved to Medicare this year leaving me alone on our previous plan. The cost for one person [me] went UP! when she was removed.)
The horses are masters of dealing with the immediate moment and their immediate surroundings. I find it wonderfully soothing to clear my mind of the calamities playing out in the world and pause my activities to stand with the herd to feel their energy, even when that energy is one of heightened alert.
Nothing else matters.
The moment the weather calms, the horses do the same.
I met with some precious luck yesterday afternoon after a slip of footing provided a mental flash of a possible worst outcome which did not materialize.
Asher was making a sudden turn toward a recently placed rodent control station that I wanted to clearly train him was “off-limits.” My hasty reaction led to a step with too much momentum onto a surprisingly slippery rock surface. That fraction-of-a-second thought process recognized I was going down and the destination was covered with many bigger rocks.
Face first was guaranteed calamity. Out shot my right arm and my hand landed incredibly hard. The dog still needed attention and I ignored the pain to deal with him. A moment later I was left trying to assess what bones in my hand and wrist were at risk of fracture.
Cyndie was up at the lake and I was home alone. This was not a good time to need medical treatment.
Fingers all moved. Wrist flexed. Ice controlled swelling. Final assessment: a wicked bruise.
Calamity averted.
This morning, returning to the house after walking through the woods with Asher, I found the rodent control station (which had been secured in place with a 10-inch stake) lying in the middle of the front yard. He obviously had beat me back to the house.
More training will be required.
.
.
Fall Planting
There is a lot of new dirt on our property since the 13 loads were dumped and spread along the edges of the driveway and down the drainage swale across the back pasture. If we let nature take its course, that dirt will be an open invitation for a wide variety of gangly growing weeds common to the area.
One alternative is to plant enough grass to claim the dirt in place of opportunistic weeds. We dawdled for some time during the most recent dry spell, not wanting to put seed down where we can’t reach with hoses to water. Planning ahead, we purchased a 25-gallon tank with a sprayer to water along the majority of the driveway.
The on-and-off rain showers over the weekend have prepared the dirt nicely so we are now ready to go full-speed toward getting seed down. Yesterday, we started in the back pasture
We invited Asher to enter the pasture with us so he could hang around while we worked. It looked like he was doing well in ignoring the piles of manure everywhere, putting his primary focus on running under the shower of grass seeds and straw being spread.
I told Cyndie to watch for grass growing out of the hair on his back in the next few days. Then he came close enough for me to smell that he must have rolled in one of those piles of poop. Silly pooch. He earned himself a rather crude version of a sponge bath before being allowed back in the house.
After lunch, I checked the radar to see if there might be enough of a window of time between rain showers that we could start seeding at the far end of the driveway by the road. With two wheelbarrows, we hauled bags of grass seed, rakes, and a bale of straw down near the mailbox.
Shortly after raking each side of the driveway in preparation for the seed, the dark clouds and rumbles of thunder moving toward us hinted it was going to arrive sooner than I suspected. Fearing the potential for a strong enough downpour to wash new seeds away, we decided to delay seeding for another day and retreated hastily indoors.
We hope to resume planting today. It is tough to know how much time we have left in the growing season with climate warming extending our 80°F days into October and rumors of a strong El Niño lasting at least through January-March 2024.
It will feel better in our minds to have tried to get grass started this fall, even if the percentage of yield is lower than we’d like. It’s a healthy distraction from thinking about embarrassing team losses on the football turf.
.
.
Canine Companion
Life on the ranch with our adopted rescue, Asher, is becoming downright charming in the way he now calmly hangs around areas where we are working. Case in point:
He decided to test out the slope Cyndie had just raked.
I have taken to entertaining Asher with thrown balls for him to chase while I am working which burns enough of his energy off that he gladly lays down near me to rest for a spell.
All the while keeping a vigilant watch on the horizon for anything that moves.
He is becoming much more of a buddy with both of us and loves physical contact. I think he is figuring out the latest situation he has found himself in has the makings of becoming his permanent home.
That’s just the canine companion we were hoping for.
.
.
Staying Ahead
My second day of solo Asher duty went a little better than the first. I planned on working to keep a closer eye on him and hoped to stay one step ahead of his shenanigans. For the most part, it worked.
At the beginning of Tuesday, Asher gave me a little time when he hung around and chilled in the shade near where I was working on a new wood sculpting project. Hoping to buy a little more time similar to that, yesterday I offered him a portion of an antler to chew on while I worked. It kept him occupied long enough for me to get set up and start working before I noticed him walking away to bury the barely-chewed antler.
A brief moment later, Asher showed up with a spool from our trimmer in his mouth. He had gone into the shop to find an object that I very definitely didn’t want him to have. So much for my time to sculpt.
I gave Asher almost no time to himself and when he was off-leash I did my best to keep his attention on me. There was no new stink from horse manure rubbed into his coat throughout the entire day. That was a victory for me.
He didn’t seem as sharp as usual at figuring out where I hid treats in his bin of dog toys. Probably because he didn’t witness me putting anything in there. It was all a part of my staying one step ahead of him in hopes of reducing his chances of doing things I wished he wouldn’t.
Asher is doing a good job of teaching me to let go of my urge to have things in an orderly state. I feel like I’m being groomed to become more comfortable with chaos in my surroundings. Do I want the bathroom trash bin on the floor or up on top of a high surface? Maybe I’m not supposed to care.
Do I want a landscape pond that is beautiful to look at or one with netted fencing surrounding it?
I outsmarted Asher by squeezing food pellets between his Kong ball and a circular chew toy.
If he would just pop the ball out the treats would come free all at once but he didn’t figure that out. He tried licking after them instead. Didn’t offer him enough reward. I was surprised to see he didn’t have the patience to stay engaged with it long enough to be rewarded the first time.
If I’m going to stay ahead of him another day, I’ll need to change something in my “hide-the-treats” exercises. For half a day anyway. Cyndie returns today and that should be enough to keep him occupied for a long while. I’m sure he’ll want to show her all the new places where he’s found things to chew on that he’s not supposed to have.
I suppose I could put the bathroom trash bin back on the floor for him.
.
.
Asher Stung
We were having a good time working in the backyard yesterday morning while Asher romped around nearby off-leash, periodically coming over to “help” by digging ferociously. Just like the horses stomping their feet to shake off biting flies, Asher frequently swings around and chomps at flies when they are bothering his butt.
When he made that gyration with amped-up energy to both his left and right yesterday, it caught my attention. There wasn’t anything visible to bite but he reacted as if the problem wasn’t going away. He then sat down hard for a second before twisting around and lifting his leg to bite the inside of his thigh.
That’s when I saw it. The classic yellow and black of a stinging insect was the target of his bite. I guessed that poor Asher was getting stung by a bee. He seemed to cope with it pretty well, although he stayed down for an extended period and licked that spot.
Later, Cyndie caught him standing in the pond so maybe he was looking for added relief from some cool water. We contemplated ways to help him but he wasn’t demonstrating any further signs of need and we had no ideas for any tolerable ways we could effectively soothe his immediate pain.
No other issues arose throughout the day beyond Asher getting a little too hot waiting for us to finish tending to the labyrinth for the day. I was mowing and Cyndie was pulling weeds.
When I finished, I invited Asher to tag along with me as I climbed the backyard hill to return the mower to the shop garage and head inside to cool off. He seemed thoroughly happy with my plan.
After he cooled off enough to stop panting, he and I played some “soccer” in the house with one of his squeaky Kong balls. Then he conked out for a respectable nap.
At bedtime, he loaded into his crate and went down without a peep. Apparently, he has gotten over whatever was stressing him out the night before.
.
.
CSI Wintervale
The only crime to report lately is mud shrapnel showing up inside the house. This spring, it hasn’t happened as often as it used to. The primary traffic in and out of our house has been limited to just Cyndie and me. That is about to change with the plan to adopt Ash, a rescued Shepherd Mix. More mud in the house will be a small price to pay.
Cyndie recently showed me her solution for leaving her boots on while retrieving something from inside the house for a project we were working on outside.
Looked like crime scene booties to me. The tedious hassle of getting in and out of boots for a quick indoor trip finally drove her to bag the boots and forge ahead. Works in a pinch but I don’t think it will be the solution for having a dog living with us again.
Time to get the kiddy pool set up by the front door.
Yesterday, we brought Delilah’s crate in from the garage and set it up beneath the spiral staircase, trying two different orientations before settling on the way we had it before. We have been wracking our brains to remember how and why we chose to do things the way we did ten years ago when we brought Delilah home for the first time. We share a common yearning to catch things we might have done, or conversely, failed to do, toward establishing rules and a firm command of desired behaviors in our pet.
What would we like to do differently from the way we attempted to train Delilah to become her best self? We think there is room for improvement.
Our appointment to pick up Ash is set for tomorrow morning. Cyndie has registered for a class of obedience training for him that will start in a couple of weeks.
It would be a crime if we miss the earliest opportunity to train Ash to achieve the best-behaved potential his mixed breed is capable of after the rough start he may have experienced before rescue. The only obvious issue when he first arrived at his current foster home was food aggression related. Since we don’t have any other house pets right now, that won’t be a big struggle for us at the start.
One of my favorite behaviors Delilah mastered was her patient and reliably obedient adherence to waiting in a designated “Place” until a release command allowed her to approach her bowl of food. I fumble around with a desire to have a dog that behaves with a military level of discipline without us being good at establishing a military level of training.
Despite ever reaching the ultimate level of control we both would have appreciated having with Delilah, Cyndie and I achieved enough success teaching her that we are hopeful for that much and more with Ash. We look forward to discovering what differences his personality will bring to the process.
.
.
November Third
It was a Thursday, almost three months ago on November 3rd, when Cyndie took Delilah for a walk while we were up at the lake place. We had just spent two days watching some major tree trimming and removal on the Wildwood properties. As Cyndie reached the top step of the bridge that crosses a lagoon, Delilah bolted after a squirrel and yanked Cyndie back down to the ground. The impact snapped bones at her ankle.
Today, she sees the surgeon who screwed plates to her bones for an assessment of the healing and, hopefully, the doctor’s permission to begin physical therapy to walk again.
This has been our life since that fateful incident:
- Thu Nov 3 – Anxious trip to Hayward Hospital emergency room with a suspected broken ankle.
- Fri Nov 4 – Drive home from the lake with Cyndie in the back seat calling around for an appointment to be seen by a surgeon.
- Mon Nov 7 – Drive to Woodbury for analysis by a trauma surgeon, then to Stillwater for a CT scan and COVID test.
- Wed Nov 9 – Cyndie has surgery on her ankle in Stillwater, receiving metal plates and many screws to hold things together.
- Thu Nov 10 – Delilah’s stomach issues (vomiting) becoming increasingly worrisome.
- Fri Nov 11 – I bring Cyndie home from Stillwater hospital. Delilah has the first of a series of vet appointments.
- Sat Nov 19 – Delilah has been refusing to accept prescribed medication and a new diet.
- Mon Nov 21 – Delilah was put to rest by the veterinarian due to suspected acute pancreatitis.
- Tue Nov 22 – Discover cut on Mix’s leg that requires a visit by the equine vet for assessment and treatment, including medications.
- Wed Nov 23 – Mix refuses to accept medications I added to her food. Johanne from This Old Horse starts coming twice a day to administer meds.
- Mon Nov 28 – Drive Cyndie to Woodbury to have stitches removed from her ankle.
- Tue Nov 29 – First big snowstorm of the year that needed to be plowed.
- Wed Dec 14 – Drive Cyndie to Stillwater for bone density test.
- Thu Dec 15 – Second big snowstorm requiring plowing.
- Thu Dec 22 – Mia gives me a big scare with an episode of choking in the middle of eating her evening feed. Minor snowfall forces more plowing.
- Mon Dec 26 – Plowing required to clear drifts from the driveway as a result of blowing snow.
- Wed Dec 28 – More plowing is needed to clear drifting snow.
- Tue Jan 3 – Another brutal snowstorm.
- Thu Jan 5 – More snow. As soon as one session of plowing is done, the process starts all over again.
- Tue Jan 10 – Farrier visits to trim all four horses.
- Thu Jan 19 – Heavy, wet snowfall triggers another round of plowing and shoveling.
In the previous ten and a half weeks, per the doctor’s order, Cyndie has avoided putting any weight on her right ankle. We have had our eyes set on this day as the time when she might be allowed to begin the process of returning to the fine art of walking on two feet again.
It feels like it’s been a long time since November 3rd but the time we anticipate it taking Cyndie to recuperate fully will be magnitudes greater, along the lines of possibly a year or so, if not longer. It’s a rather harsh notion to consider, given the challenging terrain of our property.
Today’s assessment by the trauma surgeon about the amount of healing that has occurred in her broken bones is very important to both of us. It makes January 23rd the next milestone after November 3rd from which we will begin measuring her ultimate recovery to safely walking on both her feet without supplemental support.
Here’s hoping for some great news!
.
.
Lonely Walk
I took a walk on the perimeter trail through our woods yesterday for the first time since Delilah died. That path was getting footsteps (boot steps) up to three times a day with Delilah to give her exercise that would expend her high energy. Sometimes I wasn’t all that interested in making the trek for a third time in a day, but I never regretted the opportunity once I was out there getting my own exercise and experiencing our precious wooded acres.
Without Delilah needing to be walked, I have been avoiding wandering our trails, partly out of respect that it was her thing and she isn’t with us anymore, but also because it would poke at my grief over her passing. Yesterday, I decided to trek through the crusty snow for the first time in almost three months to see if any trees have fallen or what wild animal tracks might be visible now that there isn’t a dog living here.
There were a few branches down and several spots where limbs burdened by snow had tipped over, now frozen in place. No large trees have come down in all the winter weather we’ve received thus far.
It was a lonely walk and it did poke my grief.
.
.
Greatest Accomplishment
I’ve been contemplating a life well-lived after remotely participating in a funeral online last week and then learning of an anticipated death in our friends’ family. Being in the phase of life when I’m closer to my death than I am to my birth, it occurs to me that my greatest accomplishments are quite possibly behind me as opposed to yet to come.
Most days, I feel that my greatest achievement happened when I took action to get treatment for depression. After many years of self-denial about what I was battling, receiving the confirmation of a professional diagnosis was the key that opened the door for my journey toward healthy thinking. Initially relying on medication and talk therapy to interrupt a life-long pattern of dysfunctional thinking, I eventually gained enough command of my faculties to cope on my own, medication-free.
One book I found helpful is “Undoing Depression: What Therapy Doesn’t Teach You and Medication Can’t Give You” by Richard O’Connor.
I still need to treat my natural inclination toward depression every day with healthy thinking, a reasonable diet, regular exercise, and good-quality sleep habits, but reaching the point where I don’t require support from the medical health industry is something I am proud to have achieved.
Last November and December brought a fresh challenge for me in managing the chemicals bathing my brain in the face of grief and fatigue. The combination of needing to first put down our cat, Pequenita, and then our dog, Delilah, mixed with striving to cope with Cyndie’s unexpected injury pushed me to my limits. I was the sole person tending to the horses (during which two highly stressful horse-health challenges arose), cleared snow after two significant snowfall events, and took over all tasks caring for Cyndie and the house while she is laid up.
The physical fatigue left me susceptible to allowing my old familiar depressive behaviors to return. I don’t find that worrisome because years of good mental health have provided a fresh setting for “normal” that I use for reference, allowing me to notice when intervention is warranted. I have a variety of options to employ but the key to being able to self-treat my depression is the “noticing” and consciously changing something in response.
Mostly, I change my thinking. My thoughts are a major trigger to the chemical reactions going on in my brain and body. Sometimes I just need a nap. Often times I just need more time. Especially when the trigger is grief.
Speaking of grief, the horses were giving me some grief recently. This is a case where it would have been nice to have a camera recording what goes on under the overhang when we are not around.
Somehow they picked up the grate in one of the slow feeder boxes and turned it sideways. I guess they’ve got some great accomplishments of their own to neigh about.
.
.
Praising Chewy
It is unfortunately rare to hear as many stories about good customer service as there are bad experiences out in the world. Cyndie and I have a new appreciation for our primary online source of pet supplies after receiving exceptional support from the Customer Service personnel at Chewy.com.
When we struggled with treating our dog, Delilah’s mysterious illness that eventually took her life this month, Chewy was there for us before and after. Our veterinarian prescribed a special food that Chewy was able to provide, as long as we showed them the instructions from a vet.
Prior to Delilah getting sick, Cyndie had just ordered a new 50 lb. bag of dry food and a box of canned food. That package was delivered to us after Delilah started vomiting regularly. The only reason we opened the box was that it also contained some pill pockets that we tried when attempting to treat Delilah’s stomach with meds.
After nothing worked and we chose to end Delilah’s suffering, Cyndie contacted Chewy to ask if we could return the unopened box of prescribed food. The response she received surprised both of us.
Offering heartwarming condolences to start, with no return required they credited us not only for the order of special food but also for the previous purchase of foods that Cyndie hadn’t even asked about. They suggested we donate the food to a local rescue or shelter in Delilah’s memory.
A few days later, we received a delivery of roses from Chewy with further condolences for our loss.
Granted, our perception is soaked in emotion, but the understanding that Chewy as a company has demonstrated in this instance has put them on a pedestal of customer service greatness for us that is going to be hard to beat.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 