dogs – Page 10 – The Hermits' Rest

Lost in Time

Which activities make you lose track of time?

Ah, I’m answering this question rather than sharing my current thoughts. They’ll be more refined tomorrow.

For certain, what my husband will tell you makes me lose track of time is nature walks. I just disappear and re-emerge with no idea how long I was gone. I’m completely enthralled by the sights, sounds, and smells of new places or new things in familiar places. I don’t want it to end.

Here’s a new thing I found in the driveway! It’s delicious common purslane, a portulaca (*Portulaca oleracea*) just like the cultivated one below.

Look at the beautiful Texas Striped Sweat Bee in my volunteer portulaca/moss rose

Hanging out with the animals also can make me lose track of time. I’ve just spent twenty minutes thinking about how beautiful Carlton is to me. My love for this guy never ends.

I ended up spending more time with Drew today than I’d intended, too. I’d walked to the next-door unused mailbox to drop something off, and decided to come back through the horse pasture, you know, in case there were any interesting plants or insects. So, I was concentrating on plants when I got a feeling I was being followed.

I kept going until I felt something hot on my neck.

Then I realized Droodles was sneaking up on me.

We ended up hanging out for quite a while just enjoying each other’s company. He didn’t push me around looking for treats, just rested his head on me and asked to be scratched. It’s so good to get along with each other again!

Mostly. That ear is showing some mischief is afoot.
Yes, I’m not much of a fashionista in this weather. That shirt is very orange and the head covering looks silly but keeps hair out of my face.

Not surprisingly, the other activity that leads me to lose track of time is reading. I’ve been reading Sibley Birds, Second Edition since I bought it in New Mexico. It’s only 600+ pages. I can’t stop looking at all the birds, learning new things about familiar ones and finding out what else might be out there in Texas (and wherever else I go).

I will admit to skimming Arctic residents and ocean birds. Otherwise, I’m reading it all. But I’m in the oriole section! I’m almost done! Do not worry. I have a nice long book about animal tracks lined up. That’s what happens when people stop mailing me novels, I guess. (I’m fine for novels! I have some enqueued.)

If I’m repeating myself, forgive me. I’m working on changing my mindset and that can wear me out until I’m through the hardest part (letting go of an unproductive mindset).

Thanks for being there, friends and family. You are appreciated even when I don’t show it well.

Chocolate Bars – Really?

Describe your dream chocolate bar.

Who thought of this question? But since I’m tired I’ll answer it.

My dream chocolate bar has milk chocolate, thick, covering it. The interior is a Dulce de leche caramel. Around that is cashews and juicy raisins. The end.

In real life, I love the salted caramel Milky Way.

Other than that, life is good. We celebrated my son’s birthday from last week at our usual Mexican restaurant and it was a lovely evening. It’s so amazing to see us all doing well and happy with our lives.

Life is good, at least at the Hermits’ Rest.

New Grass Is Delightful

It was a fun day for both Lee and our equine buddies. Lee got to shred (that means mow using a shredder pulled behind a tractor) the two pastures the horses haven’t been on, since the grass has seeded.

Ready to shred (no, the hay forks have nothing to do with shredding)

It was time for the horses and Fiona to switch pastures anyway, and I wanted the extra annoying giant cockleburs mowed down before they made seeds this year. I’ve learned a lesson with them! Lee loves to shred, so once he got help attaching the shredder, off he went.

To get there, I had to open the gate, do of course everyone went out to see their old pasture with new grass in it.

Where the round bales had been, lots and lots of Johnson grass had grown up (indicating that was not the greatest hay). It was taller than Dusty!

Dusty demonstrates the height of Johnson grass. Note that all horses look fat.

Everyone started to go to town on that dang grass, but I knew it wouldn’t be there long enough to hurt anyone, because Lee was shredding away.

He says at first, every time he went by the horses they’d run around and kick up their heels. By the fourth time he had to encourage them to move. Typical!

It’s funny but after the initial thrill of seeing their hill and the hay bale locations, they went back to normal. By feeding time they were all in their pens looking for their feed and supplements.

Vlassic says he also appreciates regular meals.

Other than that, today’s excitement included seeing a bobcat cross the road right in front of me (my son saw it in the same spot last week, holding a rabbit), watching barn swallow fledglings on their first flights, and being visited by some purple martins while we were sitting by our pool. Their song is so lovely—I can see why my friend Donna loves them so much.

I Truly Loathe Tornadoes

I was going to write about every time a tornado damaged my property or that of someone I cared about, not to mention lost pets and livestock. It goes way back to childhood. No one I knew was killed in one, so yes I should go on and on about how grateful I am and that things can be replaced.

Willows tend to break. But it’s where bird friends live. Hardly any birds out today.

But. Being close to those things can traumatize you. I saw that in my son’s eyes today. We’ve shared tornado trauma, and he had it again yesterday when one came out of nowhere and threw debris around him and his partner. They each made it inside, but my goodness, that was scary, especially when the roof proceeded to peel off.

Anyway, I got all nauseated driving home from our shortened trip to Waco. So many downed trees and damaged buildings. And it was worse in Temple, the closest large town to us. Houses moved off their foundations and such.

Right by our place there were huge round hay bales that flew over the highway. I’d hate to be driving when that happened! We lost a water trough and all my horse training barrels went far away. Glad we’re okay, though.

It just got to me this afternoon and I had to lay down. Goldie joined me and insisted on laying her head on my hand, so I napped as long as she did.

Hope I’m better tomorrow. Too many tornado memories. Do I have any humor?

Humor. Ssssally climbing the wall. She fell right after the third picture.

You Know What They Say about Good Deeds

Right? No good deed goes unpunished! I experienced one of those times today. I’m not upset at all, but shaking my head. There are just so many ways to look at things!

It’s like a scene viewed through different lenses.

I’m standing in the same spot, just using different camera settings. Things seem different, too.

Today I finally got around to do something about the bees who decided our propane tank access hole was a good place to start a hive.

They had moved under the piece of insulation we put over the pipes rather than leaving when all the rain came. It turns out bees like rain, according to Heath, the bee removal guy we called.

Thank goodness Jeremy from the Bling Box remembered this company had posted ad ad on Facebook and gave me their number. They showed up after work, having driven from Temple.

It took little time for our docile bees to get gently vacuumed up into the special bee vac (really a small shop vac with modifications). Heath got the queen and most of the workers, though a few were probably out foraging. I feel bad for them coming home to no sisterhood.

Safely sucked up. Glad my bees weren’t Africanized.

I felt good that I’d not killed them just because they inconvenienced me, and that we helped a small business.

That is, until I responded to a post in a FB group about bees dying from visiting poisoned dandelions and said I’d tried to help some honeybees. I promptly got a response lecturing me on how honeybees aren’t native and that they’re hurting native bees and that any good biologist (such as the man (of course) writing the response) knows they should be eliminated!

Even the dogs won’t look at me. Tsk tsk.

I said, “Okay, thanks.”

In my view I was helping insects who live near me. In his view I was hurting others. We both have good intentions.

Thinking about native versus nonnative can get you deep into rabbit holes. Many common living things here at the Hermits’ Rest aren’t native, like those chirping fools the house sparrows, or those mega-swarming starlings. One type of dove I hear daily is an Eurasian Collared Dove. Must be Eurasian. The wildflowers have many introduced species in their mix, too. Even the common dandelion isn’t native.

At least you aren’t going down MY rabbit hole.

What to do? Eliminate them all? Or are some so well adapted they are okay now?

Should we build a cactus border wall to keep out non natives? Oh wait. Plants can’t read maps.

I don’t t know. Maybe I’ll ask in Master Naturalists tomorrow. I want to be a good steward of my land, but I’m not sure I have the strength to scorch the earth.

Otherwise, all is well. I sure appreciate the nice feedback on yesterday’s blog entry. Having supportive folks around makes it easy to have a good life.

Animals Are a Luxury Item

This week I’ve spent more on horse care than I earned. The mobile vet came to give the horses all their immunizations and Coggins tests. And next week the equine dentist comes, so I’ll just have to find away to finance that. Next year I’ll try not to get the annual vaccines, dental care, bodywork, and a final rehab installment all at the same time! Oh, and there’s $400 in Apache medicine getting charged next week.

Take a deep breath and think of hummingbirds, Suna.

Yep, pets and livestock are expensive, when properly cared for. And we want to properly care for our animals. perhaps I’m better with their care than mine.

Blurry but pretty. Flapping its wings like me trying to get all these things done.

Proper care isn’t easy! Poor Lee was in charge of the dogs, most of whom have to be sedated to get them still and calm (just Goldie is calm enough to get through her exam unmediated). Alfred became a barrier so we couldn’t use the front door until he woke up.

Penney fell asleep on the vet tech, so she couldn’t be very helpful for a while.

As for the horses, I was in charge of them. I spent a long time cleaning Apache poop from the dry lot since it was past due (I’d done half yesterday). Then I haltered them all, as requested by the vet. All went well, and I managed to separate Drew out, since I got him taken care of at his $2K vet appointment in Bryan. It was hard, because they’ve all been sticking together like glue since Drew came home.

Don’t believe her. I’m the one they all stick to.

Well, all went well except for Mabel. She got nervous. So I spent 20 minutes calming her down using all the horse whispering I could muster. But it worked! She settled pretty well.

She’s in such great condition now. She shines.

She had to get drugged when it came to the strangles vaccine. She’s not font of things going into her nose. Dusty, on the other hand, was quite enchanted with his nasal spray. He even insisted on doing his Flehmen response right into the vet’s camera! He made it to her Facebook page with this.

It was determined that Dusty has pinworms so all the animals will next get wormed. So many fun medical things for these guys! And wormer ain’t free, either. But they need it!

Apache, of course, was fine. I was happy to see his rain rot is getting better after his bath. And he is so calm now.

Or he’s still embarrassed by his leg wear.

We decided to get Fiona vaccinated, too. She didn’t like it much. I also realized she was a big mess with flies and burs all over her. So she got prescribed pour-over fly repellent. I should have thought of that myself. I’m going to try it tomorrow. She is also stuck in the “dry lot” with Apache now. Maybe that will help her. I have big plans to get her all groomed tomorrow, since everyone else is looking spiffy.

Yeesh. That’s a lot of medical stuff. But, the vaccines and tests plus the dentist are just once a year. Break it down by month and it’s only sort of expensive. I guess.

I’ll just have to squirrel away some funds.

At least hummingbird watching is free. These red salvias the pool guys put in were a good investment. I know the pictures are blurry, but I enjoyed the shapes. These are black chinned hummingbirds, by the way.

My blurry buddies. Males have the white stripe around their necks.

By the way, here’s a good bird article that I accidentally left at the top of the email version of this post. Oops.

Yes, Laughter IS the Best Medicine

What makes you laugh?

My dad’s Readers’ Digest magazines always had lots of jokes, with some of the corniest ones in the column labeled “Laughter Is the Best Medicine.” My kid friends and I would go up in our treehouse, where dozens of old RD magazines were stored in an old trunk, and read each other the jokes until our cheeks hurt. Being a kid in the 60s was pretty great.

Now I read most of my jokes on Facebook, but rarely laugh out loud. What does get me going are the antics of the animals around our ranch. Chickens running because you might have food for them always elicit at least a smile.

And when the dogs start playing, Lee and I are thoroughly entertained. They run themselves ragged, with Carlton being fast, Penney being clever, and Goldie falling all over herself. Harvey watches and barks.

Then there’s stuff like this. She jumped up and immediately commenced to licking.

As for the horses, they can be just as awkward as Goldie and as graceful as Carlton. Mostly it’s Fiona who makes me laugh. Today she was begging to be petted, but Tarrin and I quickly realized she was covered in poop. We stuck to picking burs off her head and sides, which she loved so much we just had to giggle.

Today was more of a peaceful and pleasant day than anything else. I managed to get all my work done and still have time for a bakery treat with Anita. Then I spent enough time with horses that I ended up sunburned a little. It was worth it.

Another beautiful day in the neighborhood.

It was Tarrin’s monthly visit to the ranch for lessons. Since Drew is still at her house we worked some with Mabel. She’s really doing so well. You can barely tell her back is messed up, and she has nice muscles. She’s so friendly now, too. When I went to get Apache and called for the horses, she immediately galloped up. Dusty and Fiona trotted. Apache did come halfway…

Mabel let me brush a lot of mud off her before Tarrin arrived. Then I got to watch how Tarrin gained her trust by being patient and calm. Soon enough, Mabel volunteered to be haltered. Tarrin just approached and retreated and let Mabel sniff her hand as she shaped it just like a horse nose. I learned a lot.

By the end of the session I was brushing her mane out while Tarrin got all the burs off her forelock and mane. Mission accomplished with no stress on my lady horse!

Working with Apache also went very well. Tarrin kept telling me how much I’ve improved at things, and I have to admit she’s right. By gosh, I gave some groundwork and riding skills developing!

And Apache stayed pretty calm over by the house.

We practiced doing a variety of circles at a walk and trot in the round pen. He practiced calmly walking (much improvement) and I practiced using just one hand on the reins. I practiced with each hands, which is important to be able to do, according to Tarrin. It was fun practicing.

Learning

I’m impressed at how much calmer I am now while riding. Things no longer escalate like they used to, because I’m learning to nip things in the bud when Apache starts to go wonky. My calm helps his anxiety, too.

This is where Apache was thinking he’d gone far enough.

I also think he was pretty tired after a lot of cantering in the groundwork part of the lesson. I doubt he was up to frenzied uncontrollable trotting, so the whole lesson was quite civilized. I’m so grateful to Tarrin for her patience with us, and proud of myself for sticking with this horse through all our ups and downs.

If only I had on a cowboy hat, I’d feel so Texas.

It’s a lot easier to laugh when you are feeling good about yourself. Dang. I feel good about myself! Past me would be surprised.

All Grown Up

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Ha, I’m pretty sure I wanted to be a horse when I grew up at that age. I know I tried eating grass, and spent time practicing my whinnies. I also wanted to be a dog herder. I would gather up all the neighborhood dogs and try to get them to follow me (no leash laws back then).

We want to herd cattle. Or play with them.

After that I wanted to be a veterinarian or Supergirl. As you see, I haven’t changed much, except now I write all those ideas down.

Things are good here:

Monarchs are here, plus I saw a big zebra swallowtail.
Our niece is not too badly hurt from getting kicked by Big Bag Betty B**** (a cow who m, deservedly, leaves for the sale barn soon) even though she was life flighted by helicopter to a hospital pretty far from her farm. (She posted the story, so for once I can do more than vague hinting.)
I had a great session with Apache the Paint today, better than usual, even. He sure has energy and joy now.
Tarrin has a plan to get my gray horse Drew better, which involves some expensive veterinary stuff, but gives me hope for our future.
There was time this afternoon to watch the dogs play with cows (nice ones) and to hang out on the patio with Lee. We are much less stressed than yesterday!

My herd, minus Harvey, who doesn’t play with cattle, and Vlassic, who was in the garage.

I wish every one of you at least one beautiful spring day to spend with those you love, and I hope your childhood dreams came true, at least a little. I can’t BE a horse or herd dogs, but I can hang out with them!

Spring Rushing In

Signs of spring start off slowly. A purple martin arrives, chicory blooms, the few bees that are around delight in the early dandelions and bur clover blossoms.

Then, one day, you realize that the spring rush is ON. Around here, that happens in the last week of February. Wow! In town there are redbuds, and plum trees blooming. Those really pretty orange-red bushes are blooming, and the highly scented narcissus are everywhere.

Since I didn’t get photos in town, here’s my noble Vlassic, who’s showing his age.

No trees bloom spectacularly here, but today is the day there’s a green sheen in the woods. Even the willows are leafing out. In a week or two they and the cedar elms will be blooming subtly and stuffing my sinuses. It’s ok. They’re cute.

I’ve been sharing the early flowers lately, but today I found the second wave is showing up. Very soon we will have Texas paintbrush all over the front field, and the little stick-like stems of cat’s-ear will wave around (sometimes I’ll catch them with their flowers open). I even found my first plantain blooming. The yard will be covered with them eventually.

Well, there will be fewer wildflowers this year, because Lee and his brother are itching to mow. I’ve conveyed my instructions as to the no-mow areas. They’ll have smooth expanses of green and I’ll have SOME of my “weed” buddies.

One more sign that spring is in full swing is that every day there are fewer and fewer sparrows. That bums me out, but I know the summer residents will be here soon to entertain me. And of course the house sparrows will never leave. Sigh.

It’s getting warmer, too, so I’m hoping Apache hurries up and sheds out. In the meantime, all the horses are getting curried (except Drew, who’s being good but not getting worked with).

I just wanted to share these happy thoughts of life around the Hermits’ Rest. We need to focus on that sometimes. The little good things.

Yep, We Had Family Traditions

Write about a few of your favorite family traditions.

Ah, I’m sitting in a clean, quiet hotel room, with mindless television and knitting. It’s a perfect time to reminisce about family traditions.

My current family is a bit too chaotic to have a lot of traditions. It’s always something different every day. But my family of origin had a couple I enjoyed at the time and remember fondly.

I’m not home so I can’t scan photos. Here’s our foggy morning.

One I loved was when we lived in south Florida in a family-oriented neighborhood of little cement-block houses. We had a dachshund mix dog named Pumpkin during my college and grad school years. I thought of her as my sister, because she was great to talk to and hang out with. I’m not kidding, I often forgot she was a dog.

Ha! I found a photo of Pumpkin, Dad, and two neighbors.

Anyway, it was my parents’ tradition to take a walk with Pumpkin every evening after dinner. Whenever I was home, I went along with them and my brother. The walk only went to the end of the block, because Mom couldn’t go very far (she was sick a long time, and died when I was 26).

The front of the house, on my 16th birthday. Stylish for 1974.

However, the walks were always fun. We’d talk and joke and comment on the quality of Pumpkin’s poop, which always happened at the corner. (Dad had to go clean it up once a week or so, because they we’d never heard of poop bags in the 80s.) In the winter we’d check to see if she’d produced a “steamer.” Dad loved those.

The walks were often long in time, compared to their length. That’s because we often stopped to talk to the neighbors. My dad and brother were very social. I enjoyed listening to them. It felt so comfortable and convivial. They could talk about all topics, drink beer, tell stories, and get along. They were just nice, hard-working folks. I miss those times.

I realize that hanging out with my family and watching the dog poop is probably a weird tradition, but we all enjoyed it. It was something Mom could do with us, which was so nice. And my Dad and brother were so funny. I’ll treasure our quirky family togetherness time.

Before I left for my 6.5-hour drive to Arkansas, I did get in a little bird watching during the foggy morning. (I haven’t seen the sun since last Saturday.) I’m going to declare our resident loggerhead shrike the Daily Bird, because it matches the sky and trees. Plus, I love watching them grab bugs.

I’m sure the shrike is wishful for the grasshopper season to start! They go into overdrive then.