dogs – Page 4 – The Hermits' Rest

Thanks, Ma Nature, Candles Are Fun

Weirdly, the temperature range today was just five degrees. That made for an interesting square in my temperature blanket with two shades of yellow for the low and high temperatures Fahrenheit.

We had a couple warm days this week (Orange is when I start to sweat (85-89°)).

The reason for this stasis is that we finally had a good rain front come through, which hadn’t happened since last month. People south of us got much more, but we are closing in on an inch here, which will at least moisten the parched wildflowers and raise the levels in the ponds/tanks a bit.

More is predicted for tomorrow, so I’m hoping Mother Nature will be kind to us, even though the rain made Dusty and Drew go into wild stallion mode all day. So much rearing, kicking, and neck snaking has to be hard on them both.

To top the day off, we lost power right as I was getting ready to cook dinner. I set the last pot on the stove and was about to cut up onions when the power started to flicker. After about ten minutes of that, the lights went off for a couple of hours. I’d say that forced some downtime but that’s not true. I took a walk in the rain with the big umbrella and was rewarded with the haunting sounds of Upland Sandpipers, followed by much ado from a Greater Yellowlegs, another shore bird with an unforgettable sound. The rain had it pretty excited.

The horses were quite concerned at the sight of me with the unfamiliar umbrella. High alert!

After a candlelight hamburger dinner, the power came back so Lee could get back to bookbinding and I could finish my crochet squares. This domestic tranquility reminds me that there was a good event this morning.

Yes, this morning I was reading email in bed, when I heard dog footsteps. I looked, and Carlton and Penney were both in the bed. What?

I was being good. Just like this, only in bed.

It was Harvey. He’d made it upstairs, which he’d only tried twice before, since his stroke or whatever happened. But there he was, happy as he could be. The important thing is that after I got dressed and went downstairs, he came down in his own. Lee heard it, and he said it sounded more graceful than last time. I guess his liver medication is helping (it costs more than any of our human medicine).

It’s good to see Harvey helping Alfred guard the premises.

I’m hoping for more rain, then for a nice clear Saturday, assuming Apache and I are healed up enough to do the show. He seems fine. My shoulder is messed up, which may have something to do with the hoof-shaped bruise on my upper arm. I’ll live, I’m sure!

My shoulder isn’t too bad, anyway. I managed to lift 40-pound bags of alfalfa and salt that the previous horses needed. I’m a strong older person!

Enjoy this bonus ground cherry, which is undoubtedly happy with Ma Nature tonight!

Creatures of Habit, Bovine Edition

Now that my exciting software training/tech writing career has ended, I find myself bereft of a mission. I always have a project I’m working on to support users, but I’m out of those. I’m a creature of habit, so I feel compelled to find a project. But is it really a good idea to keep the projects coming?

Believe it or not, watching the cattle in the wooded area next to our house gave me an aha moment. Here’s what happened.

Lee and I went to Lowe’s to get some simple vegetables to put in his raised bed. We also bought two flowering trees, a peach and a pear (nope, not native, but, hey, they are Lee’s trees). When we got home, he drove the Gladiator over to the planting area and proceeded to plant.

Finished planting. Mostly herbs and peppers v

At one point, he booped his keys on the tailgate and that made the horn beep. If you’re rural, you’ll know what’s coming. A truck, something that looks like a feed trough, and a honking horn evokes the food urge in those neighboring creatures of habit, the cattle.

At first just a few adorable calves appeared. One in particular really enjoyed playing with Carlton and Penney. We were charmed.

I went off to feed the equine creatures of habit, who nicely line up in their pens for dinner and tolerate my insistence on grooming them in the late afternoon. Everyone, even Fiona, is now looking good, except around poor Droodles’s head. But I’m getting there!

By the time I came back, all the cattle were crowded against our fence, waiting for us to feed them. Carlton and Alfred valiantly worked to protect us, which really peeved a couple of huge mama cows and the bull. There was quite a cacophony.

The poor dogs got so tired that each of the white dogs went in the swimming pool to cool off.

It took sooo long for the cattle to move back into the pasture, probably because the real food truck appeared.

We will just wait until night if we have to. Moo.

It dawned on me that doing the same thing every time a circumstance looks familiar can lead to disappointment. The cattle didn’t notice that the Gladiator doesn’t usually feed them, or that the “trough” was full of plants. Poor dears.

We aren’t known for our massive intellects.

I need to realize that I don’t need to go find a significant writing project immediately. I’m starting something new, not the usual transition from resting training material in one application or another. I can do something different. There is time to figure out what the next new and fascinating thing will be.

In the meantime, I’m working on collecting some writing and putting it on my Substack, which you can go follow. Eventually, as soon as I let my thoughts come together in new ways, there will be more on Substack than new and recycled blog content about animals and birds.

Who knows? Once I break my habit I could turn interesting!

Counting Birds and Holding Steady

What luck. This weekend is the Great Backyard Bird Count.

This provides me with a perfect excuse to sit outside in my chair for hours and track what birds show up. I needed that healing time, and the peace of being outdoors. Since there was a break in the weather and the sun came out, I got a lot of healing time out of the break.

It was so green! But frigid air is returning.

Plus, I found 46 species of birds today, which will be great for the count. We’re so lucky here that I can see water birds, woodland birds, and meadow birds (like Meadowlarks!). Even a duck flew over, an American Wigeon. I wish ducks liked our ponds more, but they mainly attract shore birds. At least mostly all the winter sparrows and the Pipit showed up: White-crowned, White-throated, Savannah, Vesper, Field, Harris’s, Song, and House (technically an Old World species). So many little brown birds. I just love watching them, the Cardinals, the Chickadees, and the Titmice searching for tasty morsels.

Okay, so when I wasn’t birding I did my nails, which always distracts me for an hour each week as I try not to wrinkle the polish or put them on wonky. These look pretty cool.

I was writing up the Master Naturalist meeting minutes in my office and kept thinking I saw Goldie on the sofa. Or couch. I had to make it look different and not remind me so much of her or I’d dread going in there. So, I washed the cover I’d put on to try to prevent more damage to it. But, then I remembered how filthy she had gotten the upholstery by getting on it when dirty or skunked or bleeding.

Hey, I helped with that and am still here!

So I got out the upholstery cleaner stuff and went to town on that grime. I guess that was the equivalent of our nephew digging a giant hole for her burial yesterday —I poured my sadness into scrubbing. And it worked. The fabric looks way better and smells less “doggy.” I now remember how I’d decorated the room, too.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll take my grief out on the muddy and bur-covered horses. They were pretty icky looking when I fed them.

Anyway, thanks for your good thoughts and kind words. I’m feeling very cared for today. If you ever wonder whether words of sympathy after a loved one (human or not) passes are helpful to the bereaved, I can tell you they are.

Farewell to Our Dear Friend

You may have heard that Goldie left this world today, about five months after her osteosarcoma ordeal began. The good news is that she didn’t really slow down until this week, and only got really bad today, not eating, having trouble standing, etc.

The three of us here at the ranch worked together to give Goldie a good last day. after many calls, the guys found a vet who would come here so she didn’t have to be hauled in and out of cars. I sat with her for the last hour before the vet arrived, with her head on my lap or in my arms. It was very peaceful and loving.

It was important to me that she have peace. I have had too many traumatic dog passings. I don’t want more if it can be helped. We knew this was coming, so we could prepare.

Describing what a special dog Goldie was is difficult. People say all Great Danes are sweet dogs. That may be so, but this one felt like a friend, a confidant, and a guardian all rolled into one.

She was a Mighty Huntress of skunks and armadillos, she was a goofy dinosaur head when she got excited, her tail was a danger to men of a certain height, and she looked at you with those golden eyes, so full of love…

The few years we had with Goldie weren’t enough. But that’s what she had for us. We will treasure our memories.

Goldie’s memorial bonfire, next to her very deep grave. Digging big holes is a good way to process grief.

Old, Parents, Worries

What were your parents doing at your age?

I’m still feeling old and irrelevant, just like my cousin J. And I’m incredibly sad to be watching my sweet Great Dane, Goldie, swiftly declining. Cancer is just awful. It makes me hesitant to have another giant dog.

And cancer is why I can’t tell you what my mother was doing at my age (pushing 67). She’d been dead four years, thanks to her nicotine addiction. I wish she’d had a less addictive personality. I know she loved us.

I was born, born in the 50s. I already look concerned.

When Dad was 66 I think he was at his happiest. If my memory is correct, he’d met my stepmother and was having fun hanging with friends, traveling, and working in his beloved flower gardens. What a contrast. Dad was great taking care of Mom. He deserved a time to have fun. (He married Flo, a woman just like quirky Mom only without addictions, so he had challenges later!) I loved my dad so much. What a great, flawed, very human human being he was.

Things sure are different for me. My parents grew more prosperous and felt safer as they aged. Boomers like me had no idea what they’d be in for as they grew older. This is not the future I’d envisioned.

Thanks to everyone who’s been reaching out. Knowing I have kind people in my life is a source of comfort.

February 11 Status

Update on today:

It rained all day. I hope it was enough.
I finished the 2024 temperature blanket. The borders helped.
I feel irrelevant in today’s world. Not much to contribute. Fading away.
Goldie had seizures. Lee wants to see if she can make another week.
Lots of sickness among my friends, as well as losses of beloved dogs and cats. They mean so much to us.

There are hundreds of Grackles in these trees.

It’s just one of those times. I’ll keep breathing and accepting that life has its ups and downs.

Blanket with borders. January 2024 at left, December at right.

Time for Quiet

It’s one of those days when there is a lot to process. I’m not sure that I’m ready to say anything yet, other than I’m feeling really irrelevant due to my age, ethnicity, gender, and views. It’s probably good that I figured that out before I did or said something I shouldn’t. I need to keep processing for a bit.

I’m the big egret in a world of coots and ducks.

We did make it home. The animals are quite pleased. The people seemed to be, too. I’ll talk to y’all, one-sidedly, tomorrow. I’ll be quiet now.

Our two sickly dogs mostly bark from the couch now. Neither is doing very well.

An Ideal Suna Day

Describe your most ideal day from beginning to end.

I wasn’t going to write again today, but the prompt cheered me up. I enjoyed pretending I could have an ideal day again. I could do this day if I had enough money to maintain this lavish lifestyle. It’s not really lavish, just maintaining what we have now, which I doubt will happen. Wait I was cheered up there for a minute. Hold on.

There is a new day, every day, until there isn’t

So, I would wake up around 7:30, meditate, and do morning journaling over coffee, preferably on the porch. Of course I’d feed my many happy chickens. Next I’d walk all over the property looking for interesting plants and birds. I’d get at least 50 birds on Merlin (which I did yesterday!).

I’d come in and check email and, it being my ideal day, I would not read my usual news. Lunch time would roll around and I would go to town and eat with one or more of my friends, maybe at somewhere not Mexican for a change. We would say kind things to each other and laugh at funny stories.

This looks remarkably like today’s tacos but is from Pexels

Heading home, I’d spend quality time with the horses, not just Apache. I’d groom and exercise one of the others, feed them all, then ride Apache and practice our skills. We would take a little walk around, just for fun and he’d be fine with that.

After the horses, I’d go swimming or hang around on the patio chatting with Lee and any other present family members, followed by a dinner that I didn’t cook. Maybe it would just be cheese and crackers if lunch was big enough. We would watch a movie or television show that was funny or educational. I would knit or crochet through that part.

Yes, I’d add some fruit. Probably not wine, since I’m drinking less.

I’d go upstairs, get ready for bed, then blog and/or read. Carlton would hop up and join me in snoozing.

Ah, that sounds good! My ideal day is peaceful and calm. It’s relatively stress free (only fun stress allowed).

I did many of the things in the ideal day today, but I also worked and stressed over world events. Sigh. I’m spending much time these days just watching, observing, and trying to understand what’s happening. I’m trying to listen more than I speak. And I’m trying to be useful.

Yes, my ideal day is at home. I probably also have an ideal travel day!

Welcome Light

Tomorrow is Imbolc, a celebration that light is starting to appear from darkest winter (among other things). Nature brought the light a little early, and provided us with a rare cool, sunny day. It was mighty pleasant.

I enjoyed a break from my very busy week by sitting outside after work, reflecting on how much I value my connections and wish I could cultivate them more.

I’m too busy sitting with birds, I guess.

At least I talked to my friend Donna yesterday, and she reminded me that the Purple Martins start to return this time of year. I also saw the bluebonnets getting bigger today, and I was happy, even though the speaker at last night’s Master Naturalist class informed us they are not native here, just in the granite areas of the hill country. Poo.

Lee was practicing with his camera so you can see what I look like when listening to and watching birds.

I know spring is coming, with turkey eggs every other day, calendar changes, getting my first new temperature blanket module done (tomorrow), and a new theme color for my journal and nail polishes. Stereotypical, it’s true, but February is all pink. I might even have pink in my hair. Ooooh.

Don’t dye me pink, Suna. My nose is pink enough.

Raising a Complaint?

What do you complain about the most?

I try not to complain, but I do it. Someone who has to live with me might have a different answer, but my assertion is that I complain most about the dogs barking and running outside at the slightest noise when I’m trying to watch television. It is so loud. At least now that we stream, it’s possible to pause.

When not barking all night, Goldie is cute.

Okay, I asked Lee and he said I complain most about the new occupant of the White House. He claims he complains most about the same guy I complain about, and also the death of customer service. I like that answer.

What I can’t complain about is Connie Gobbler. She’s all grown up now, I guess, because she laid her first egg today! And it does look like it has the measles!

Of course I sent a picture to Heather, who gave her to me, and to her namesake, Connie. The egg is no bigger than Cindy-Cathy’s eggs, but future eggs should be bigger.

I’m not complaining about the weather, either. We got an inch of rain, and I can tell the ponds are more full. We still need more, though.