Responsibility
There’s nothing like a loud crashing thunderstorm and my dogs trembling beside me in bed to remind me that I’m utterly responsible for their welfare.
After a day-long deluge of steady pounding rain and gradually stronger winds, in the wee hours of the morning some of us calling the upper left-hand corner of the U.S. home were treated to a sudden winter thunderstorm.
In the dim recesses of my mind I fathomed that something was approaching. I think it was the sudden quickening of the wind. I’m a light sleeper anyway, but the wind was roaring. You know that saying about sounding like a freight train? Well, it actually did sound like that.
The noise was made worse by the rain that changed from a steady patter to tiny meteorites flinging themselves against my bedroom window. I didn’t realize it until it was light outside and I got up to let the dogs out, but the sound was caused by the rain changing to hail.
I’ll confess that windstorms here make me very uncomfortable. I’ve never been a fan of high winds, but at least growing up we didn’t have a lot of trees around the house and the only things that ended up being blown about was the shit us kids had left outside or stuff we forgot to batten down, like barbecue grills or ladders. Usually we didn’t even notice something was missing because it was promptly covered up in snow. We’d wonderingly re-discover the missing item months later after the snow melted off.
The main reason why I hated the wind growing up was something called windchill. The windchill factor is a fun little phenomenon whereby a balmy winter day in the 20s (Fahrenheit because I’m an American dammit) would actual feel like it was below zero. I learned as a kid to pay far more attention to the windchill temperature than to the real air temperature, because that was what YOU ACTUALLY FELT. Not just cold, but mind-numbingly “why the hell do I live in this state” freezing your ass off cold. And while I do not actually know anyone whose ass has literally frozen off, I can tell you from personal experience that one’s ass can become mind-numbingly cold to the point where you don’t even know you have one anymore and it take hours, yes hours, to feel it again.
This is one of the reasons why I love the Pacific Northwest. The weather forecasters here do not devote nine out of the 10 allotted minutes for the weather forecast discussing the windchill factor. In fact, it doesn’t even seem they use 10 minutes to discuss the weather forecast. Puzzling as actually the weather here is more interesting and querulous as it comes directly off the ocean and often gets stuck between two mountain ranges. Mostly they just talk about what it’s going to be like in Seattle and allude to a mysterious thing called The Convergent Zone. But since no one actually knows what’s going on or what will happen in The Convergent Zone, they just flap their hands about, shrug and state that something different will happen in this Convergent Zone. They just aren’t sure of what.
Fun factoid. I actually dated a man who lived smack dab in the center of The Convergent Zone. All I can tell you is that I always dressed warmly while visiting and didn’t stay too long because it was depressingly dark and rainy.
I digress. Back to this morning’s storm.
My nervousness about the wind, as always, translated down to the dogs. Because three of them sleep with me, I could feel their growing restlessness. Youke, who sleeps to the side of me, huddled in closer.
Then there was a sudden and very loud BOOM! Now I had four dogs on the bed with me.
Brady is fairly well terrified of thunderstorms. Thankfully, we don’t get an awful lot here, but I spend the duration of each and everyone with Brady in my arms. And in recent years, Youke has grown more sound-sensitive.
Sound-sensitivity is a very common trait among a lot of dogs, but is especially prevalent among Border Collies. While I think Brady’s sensitivity has contributed to Youke’s decision that some loud noises are very scary, it’s also fairly common for the phobia to develop later in life for dogs. Sylvie didn’t fear thunderstorms until she was around five years of age. Unfortunately, that coincided with my move to South Florida (or maybe it contributed to it). Not real fun having a thunder-phobic dog in a place where there are thunderstorms nearly every afternoon for eight months of the year. We were both very glad when we moved to the Pacific Northwest.
Youke was shaking with fear beside me and trying to burrow his way closer into my body. Jasmine and Camm, while neither is thunder-phobic (crossing my fingers on Camm, but resigned to possible fate), where nervous, mostly because I was already apprehensive about the wind and because Youke and Brady were so scared.
However, it became impossible to offer comfort to them because Brady chose to lay on my head.
To be fair, there really wasn’t a lot of room on the bed and because I had been trying to offer comfort to Youke, I hadn’t left open the usual safe spot on the other side of my body for Brady.
In most cases, Brady jumps onto the bed and settles himself against my chest, allowing me to wrap my arms tightly around him. Thus, in full spoon position we ride out a storm with me holding him and caressing his fur while whispering into his ears.
And yes, I’ll confess that I take full advantage of these scary moments for him and run my hands up and down his lovely muscular body and feel the silkiness of his flowing fur. It’s sort of like a Harlequin romance-Fabio-meets-Disney movie moment.
But this morning, due to the lack of availability of his usual spot, Brady chose to plop himself on my head and to press his cheek tightly against my own. I think he may have been laying on top of Youke too. At least Youke’s trembling stopped, so there was that.
So although I wasn’t able to offer Brady the usual comfort, that close contact was apparently very reassuring. He laid like that through the duration of the storm.
With my head smothered and basically unable to move due to the bodies surrounding me, I thought about how touching – sweet, yet sad – it was that these critters view me as their safe place, their literal harbor from the storm.
I also thought about how humbling it is to be trusted with such a responsibility.
Youke enjoying a bed at a hotel during a non-scary time.
A Ball for the Win
While out for a walk with the dogs today, a truck suddenly appeared from around a bend and headed our way. This is the hazard of often using service roads and Department of Natural Resource land. It doesn’t happen very often, but I’ve learned to be prepared.
All four dogs were up ahead of me and on various sides of the road exploring. As soon as I saw the truck, I yelled out “Come Dogs, Come.”
There wasn’t the slightest hesitation among the foursome. I got four whiplash turns, although Brady did quickly whip his head back to see what I was calling him from. Yup, there’s always one in the crowd.
Instantly I had four dogs at my feet and all at a sit. I reached for collars on the squirmy ones – Youke, Camm and Brady, while Jasmine held a lovely “sit, stay.” No time really to latch the leashes on and I’m an expert now at holding more than two at a time, despite only possessing two hands. Yup, I’ve got mad skillz.
The truck rolled on by. I would’ve waved back at the driver, but my hands were full.
Once the truck was at a bit of a distance I released all four dogs. But then I had a light bulb moment. I realized how incredibly awesome it was that ALL FOUR instantly came back to me like that with barely any question.
So I rewarded them with a game of Ball right there on the road.
As awesome as that moment was, it’s far from the first time it’s ever happened and that’s because I’ve trained it.
Initially I train recalls with food and at easy places, such as at home. I try very hard not to compete with something else in the environment at the beginning and reward with food 100% each time. In other words, I make sure I don’t work in an environment that is too distracting at first and reward heavily for the right outcome. It’s basic Dog Training 101. But because I have three dogs that actually place a very high, if not higher, value on toys as rewards, I quickly incorporated the use of balls or tug toys as rewards for coming when called too. In fact, I make the whole experience very much a game.
As time goes on and my recalls get 100%, I move to more difficult areas and reward, reward, reward. Over time, I phase out the frequency of the reward, but it never goes away altogether. I’m lucky enough to have a longstanding and solid relationship with dogs that also seem to place some value on being right and liking when their human notices and confirms their rightness. That’s called praise. However, praise is valuable because it’s been linked over time with a reward of some nature.
Because I hike a fair amount, often in areas where there are bears about and other critters. I just don’t carry food on me for a causal outing. Call me crazy, but bringing a baggie full of hot dogs to reward coming when called when out in the woods seems unwise.
Therefore, I carry a Ball.
Ball is useful in many, many ways, most especially to play fun games like “find it” where I throw it into the underbrush and the dogs see who can uncover and bring it back to me the fastest. Of course, that game sometimes has drawbacks, such as when the human has to step in and help to “find it.”
The cool thing I’ve found about carrying a ball around is that I pretty much have an instant high value reward at all times without fear that a bear might also find it fascinating.
Which is why sometimes I just randomly call the dogs to me to play a game of Ball.
So in those few seconds after I had released them and after they all came back so quickly, I chose to reward with a game of Ball.
One can argue that they might not have made the connection between the desired behavior of coming when called and the reward due to the many seconds in between being held and then being released, but I’d argue otherwise. First of all, the game’s been played many times before, and secondly, I have brilliant dogs.
Youke and Brady are just blurs in this picture because 1) they are running fast, and 2) I don’t have a stop motion feature on my cheap little camera.
* This picture is also not from today as clearly a truck could not drive down this trail and I did not have my cheap, but beloved little camera on me.
** It is also my experience that issuing a recall command in a somewhat shrill, but not yet panicky voice works most effectively, but should only be used in the face of a fast oncoming vehicle, a deer racing across a road, a skunk in the yard, a not-so-friendly kitty of the feral kind, a raccoon cleaning its dinner creekside, a trail runner or when another dog who seems intriguing really is not.
This is Your Captain Speaking
Nothing like a little rum and eggnog to take the edge off the holiday stress. Okay, make that a lot of rum and a little eggnog.
True confessions. I hardly ever drink, and when I do I’m a social drinker. Basically that means I really only drink when in the company of others. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the occasional libation and pretty much every single inhibition I have falls away under the influence of alcohol. Which explains so very many questionable decisions of the past. Plus, I’m hysterically funny and my sense of humour is even drier in the presence of alcohol, but I guess every drunk pretty much thinks that.
I found The Captain staring at me from a store shelf today. I think there’s still a bit of some old Captain in my pantry. (Yup, there is, I checked). But this Captain is special. Reserved and private and all. As in exclusive. Very appealing to my inner snob.
Also very appealing to my pissed off self. I was feeling pretty pissy due to the very poor driving continually exhibited here in Washington State.
I find it quite ironic how Washingtonians get all pissed off about California drivers and continually badmouth them. Oh, is that because they’re better drivers?!! Seriously, sometimes I think the worse drivers in the country reside here. I don’t know how most of these people get their driving licenses. Hardly a day goes by when I don’t see some idiot making a left hand turn, from the far right lane and crossing at least one lane of traffic to do so. Or the ever present slow driver who thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to drive 50 mph in the fast lane on a three- or four-lane major interstate. I always want to slow down and yell out the window asking if they think they bought that real estate.
But lately my pet peeve is merging behavior. I swear no one here understands how to properly merge into traffic.
And it was such an incident that set me off today. Some stupid woman driving 35 mph on I-90 trying to maneuver into the exit lane onto an interstate road. And I happened to be stuck behind her.
She had plenty of opportunities to merge into the lane for the exit, but apparently, for the sake of being that many more cars ahead, she opted to continually move ahead, at a whopping 35 mph, to try to get a better position ahead. Meanwhile, I could not move out from behind her as the other cars of on the highway were doing the legal 70 mph.
So that pretty much set the tone for my trip to the grocery store to pick up some last minute ingredients.
I wrote on Facebook early this week that the best time to go to the grocery store on Thanksgiving week was 9 pm. And it was. The store was practically empty. Silly me though for not making an actual list as I found myself needing to go back. I’m here to tell you that 3 pm on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving is not a good time to grocery shop.
Especially amusing to me, snarky, sly bitch that I am, was the trip down the baking ingredients aisle. I love this time of year, watching those who clearly have absolutely no knowledge about baking and cooking perusing the shelves and maneuvering their way through. I think this may have been the first year ever in which someone didn’t stop me and ask a question about something. Perhaps my lingering road rage face warned them off?
Anyway, I had a very specific list that I did not intend to deviate from. But then I saw The Special Reserve Captain and right next to him was eggnog.
Once I made it through the checkout lane and then drove the agonizing half-mile back to my house, the first thing I did – after of course unloading the dogs from the jeep and bringing in grocery bags, was to uncork The Captain and pour his velvety smoothness into a glass.
I admit it. I drank pretty much a shot straight from the glass. Fuck the eggnog part. Perhaps it’s because I hadn’t eaten anything but a cup of yogurt in the morning or because my blood pressure was up, but The Captain slunk down into my throat like liquid gold and burned into the the pit of my stomach. It took about 3.2 seconds to feel the glow that is the magic of The Captain.
Instantly I forgot about that stupid woman in I-90, forgot about dissing all those faux bakers at the grocery store and even forgot the dude staring at me and the four dogs on our romp-about earlier.
Most conveniently, The Captain has helped to inform me that while I should be prepping cranberry sauce and baking a couple of pies, despite the impending darkness, I really have all evening to accomplish those things and should instead be thinking creatively, and looking at cute dog pictures.
Like this:
JaYoBaCa wishes everyone a Happy Thanksgiving!
November
November. The month when it feels like it’s 4:30 pm all the time.
For example. I was sitting in front of my computer at 10:30 am this morning drinking coffee and I glanced outside and thought to myself, it looks like it’s 4:30 already. Then later today, I had just finished vacuuming the house, glanced at the clock thinking that surely it must by 4:30, and it was 2 pm.
This is what it looked like at 4 pm today. It looked like this at 9:30 am too. Wet. And very damp.
When I was a kid I used to bemoan the fact that I was born in November. What a dreary month, no matter where you live. Except for South Florida. That’s pretty much the nicest month in South Florida. I used to wish I was a June baby or more exciting, July or August. But then I got a bit older and had friends born in those months. Not really all that great either. Kids born in those months either end up going to school really young or a year later than everyone else. Also, everyone misses their birthdays and not that many, at least in my circle, opted for cool pool/birthday parties. I did go to one once. Wasn’t really all that fun. No one else I knew had pools. The fact that it was Northern New England probably played a factor in that.
While today I’m opting for staying in and hibernating of sorts, yesterday I braved the rain and the blustery winds and took the dogs out.
We returned looking like drowned rats. 
This was even after the dogs had shaken a considerable amount of water out of their coats. I know it’s bad, even for the dogs, when after a couple of hours of splashing in puddles and running through streams with grandiose plans to become rivers, they look up at me blinking the steadily growing rain from their eyes and eagerly gather at the car, vying to become the first to jump in.
Still, once I’m actually out in it, I’m fine. I have rain gear and once you’re wet, it’s not like you can really get any wetter. Plus, it’s only in November here in the Pacific Northwest that we really see anything resembling actual rain. Most of the time it’s just a soaking mist or steady drizzle in the winter months. I also like to bear in mind that it could be snow.
November is also the time of year when all my fun agility travels end.
Now our weekends look like this:
A lot of naps. A lot of sleep and late mornings.
I’ve told myself I’m not doing any real agility in November and December. I am signing up to do a couple of fun runs and I did enter a UKI trial in late December, but all are purely for the purpose of training. I figure I’ll use the hyped up atmosphere to work with Brady and Camm on stuff. Mainly contact zone criteria. I’ll let Youke continue to nap.
I usually enter a trial over Thanksgiving weekend and this will be the first year since 2008 that I haven’t entered it. All bets are off as to whether I break down and do some day-of runs, but since I launched my new business and hope for some holiday bookings, and the fact that I’ve not been gainfully employed since May, my less-instant gratification self has taken over.
So, when me and the dogs aren’t napping, we’re out exploring. Got Youke and Camm out on an excellent adventure earlier in the week.
Went up one of my favorite trails and coincidentally, the first trail Youke ever hiked. Youke is my best hiking partner. He is steady, well-tempered in that he’s friendly, but not too friendly, doesn’t get too far ahead, isn’t really interested in chasing critters and he listens well. Camm would be a really good hiking partner if 1) she wasn’t so freaked out about fast-moving people (i.e. trail runners), 2) appreciated strangers who are dying to pet her because she’s cute, and 3) she liked kids. For those reasons, Camm is watched very closely. I’ve also discovered that simply handing her A Ball to carry around works well. It sort of like the device that the fictional Hannibal Lecter had stuffed into his face, only her ball is voluntary and is not strapped on. Like Hannibal Lecter’s safety device, A Ball prevents unwarranted nipping activity.
Camm would prefer to be the only one with A Ball.
For a few days, the Chariot to Adventure was out of commission and unable to whisk JaYoBaCa off to their preferred fun in the woods and on trails.
It was bound to happen eventually and I consider myself quite fortunate that it took this long to happen. I came back from a short romp where I took the dogs to go field mice hunting to find the passenger side window of my jeep smashed. Several creative swear words later, I discovered that I had a lot to be grateful for. Despite some obvious rummaging, my wallet was not taken.
I’m really not stupid enough to leave my wallet in my car, especially unlocked, but on this occasion it was. Usually I just carry what I need in my cargo pants. Hence the reason I usually wear cargo pants.
But on Sunday I brought my wallet because I was going someplace afterward and stuffed it in the center console of my vehicle and promptly forgot to lock it. I think the only reason it wasn’t taken is that either the dickwad was discouraged by all the dog paraphernalia in my jeep or, and far more likely, he spotted the dogs and we unknowingly interrupted him. Also, I’m guessing that despite what Youke may think, used orange Chuck-it balls don’t fetch a premium on the black market.
A day and half of driving around without a window though made the inside of the jeep smell fresher.
Speaking of fresh, I purchased a new vacuum. My metamorphosis into my mother is now nearly complete.
For a more defined understanding of this, please know that at my mother’s funeral service my siblings and I brought her favorite Miele vacuum and posed it alongside her urn. The vacuum, along with the wreaths of flowers, made a lovely focal point.
I too own a Miele, but 17 years of trying to pull dog and cat hair from wall-to-wall carpeting at two different houses in two different states with their own special brands of dirt and fauna has taken its toll. The Miele is dying a loud, croaking, sputtering death.
The good news is that my new Shark vacuum is a freaking bad-ass beast.
I assembled it today, carefully matching the alphabet diagrams with the numbered diagrams and utilizing a little good old-fashioned puzzle-solving intuition when the diagrams started jumbling together in my brain. One would think that reading agility course maps would prepare you for this, but really, not so much.
Unbeknownst to me, besides the four dogs and one cat that I live with, I was apparently also living with another critter. This critter was large and hairy and able to flatten itself to all the walking surfaces of my residence. It was also really scary.
Because really scared was how I felt when I dumped it into the trash can. Also, really awed. Poor ailing Miele hadn’t been able to contend with this furry thing for some time from the size of it.
I’d show you a picture, but then I’d have to censor it. It’s best that I leave it up to your imagination.
However, I am showing you this.
I recently did some purging and found these dainty, and matching, things. Instead of tossing them into bags for Goodwill, I looked them over and decided to keep them. Perhaps for a special occasion.
A special occasion has not recently returned my call, so since I decided earlier today I was not venturing any further than up and down my stairs, I thought it’d be nice to wear a matching and pretty bra and panty set. Sometimes, I just feel it’d be nice to not wear a sports bra and throw on cargo pants and a hoody. Plus, it’s dreary and depressing today and I thought wearing these would make me feel special.
They did not. What they did do was make me feel slightly itchy – all that lace, and very unsupported. I also didn’t really feel like me. Apparently me is not delicate underthings any longer, and is more like architectural and functional.
I realized that’s just fine with me. It’s good to know oneself and to like that person. Just as I eventually became okay with being born in the dreariest month of the year, I am also good with being a person who doesn’t really like lacy undergarments, is both fascinated and satisfied with a powerful vacuum cleaner and doesn’t mind getting wet as long as pups frolicking in puddles is involved.
Not So Crazy, Marker Dogs and Other Deep Thoughts
I really need to enter more ASCA (Australian Shepherd Cub of America) agility trials. They make me realize my dogs are really not as crazy as I often think they are.
Prior to this weekend, I’d attended a CPE trial and a NADAC trial. There were definitely moments of craziness with one or the other of my dogs at each trial. The picture above is from the CPE trial. My apparently poorly executed cross resulted in sending Camm to the dog walk instead of to the much closer jump. She realized the mistake and chose to quickly negate the error by jumping off the dog walk and getting back to the proper spot.
The photographer at the trial shot the entire episode. I purchased it. It’s actually pretty amazing to watch and to see how much Camm used her plume-like appendage, also known as a tail, to balance herself throughout to leap and to stick her landing. It was actually very cat-like and super athletic. Not recommended though. Not matter how light and supremely athletic the dog is. Ahem, Camm!
At the NADAC trial in Canada, Brady refused to stick contacts and engaged in numerous arguments with me about it. Even taking the eliminations and working with him to encourage a proper “two-on, two-off” landing did not sway his point of view, which was that leaping the contacts was faster (it is) and far more fun than my dumb-ass way (I’m not sure I can argue that).
It seems as if one of my dogs, usually Brady or Camm, pulls some crazy, memorable move at every trial. Therefore, I’ve really started to think of my dogs as being fruitcakes. At least sometimes.
After this weekend, my point of view has shifted. Nothing like being a Border Collie in a sea of Australian Shepherds to gather perspective. Also nothing like seeing an 18-month old border collie run to make one appreciate her more seasoned dogs, even the one that’s only been trialing for a year and jumps off dog walks.
There’s an interesting preference among some humans. It seems that some humans have a very strong preference for Australian Shepherds and would rather slit their throats rather than to have a Border Collie, while the opposite is true of those that prefer Border Collies. I’m among those people, but the opinions have always amused me given that the general public pretty much sees the two breed types as the same or at least very similar.
The most common thing I hear from Australian Shepherd people is that they love the sense of humour from their Aussies and that Border Collies are “too intense.” Being a human that would be rich if she’d received a nickel for every time she was told she was “too intense,” I guess I appreciate the way of the Border Collie.
As border collies are tremendously popular in the sport of dog agility, it was a little odd to have my dogs considered as the “marker dogs” for the Aussies running. In other words, Brady and Camm were among a literal handful of border collies at this past weekend’s trial. I also have a renewed appreciation for when people tell me they can’t tell all those border collies apart because they all look the same. Hmmm, all those Aussies look the same to me.
I’ve written many times about Brady’s predisposition to raging at me when running agility. Contacts are actually the least of our arguments. He barks, and sometimes screams, at me if my handling is not perfect.
A friend this weekend mentioned that she’s advised her own dogs to “just get over it,” meaning the imperfect handling. While I’ve suggested this to Brady, he’s not having it. That attitude has made him an excellent, if not Nazi-like, coach and has literally forced me to become a better handler. Not a perfect handler, much to his disappointment, but somewhat better anyway.
Nonetheless, our arguments on course, some of which have become legendary in my memory, fall short of some of what I saw with the Aussie crowd.
And it’s not like this is new information for me. There are also a lot of Australian Shepherds that compete in agility and I see many over any weekend and have numerous friends that run Aussies. I’ve also entered ASCA trials before, although it’d been probably 18 months or more since my last one.
But there’s nothing like being in an ocean of Aussies to drive home an appreciation and fondness for one’s Border Collies. Even ones that think they’re Superman. Ahem, Brady!
- Photo credits to Nina Sage
Walkin’ the ‘hood
I hardly ever walk my dogs around my neighborhood. Not that it’s not a nice place and all, but because I just prefer to take them out and about where there are more trees, more grass, apparently more critters, and definitely fewer people and cars.
Camm prefers places like this.
Today, they walked the’ hood.
I had to drop my jeep off for a fix early this morning. Apparently it’s not firing on all cylinders. Story of my life. When I get my repair bill, I’m sure I will not find this as amusing as I do at present.*
I wasn’t amused when my engine malfunction light went off in Canada last Sunday afternoon. But after looking up what the idiot light was telling me, I figured I’d be able to get back to the U.S. of A. And I did, and still managed to drive around a fair bit over the week, but momma ain’t taking any more chances before driving north again this weekend.
Brady came with me to drop the jeep off. I figured he’d be the first neighborhood walk victim as he’s extremely pokey about doing his business in the morning and new territory would be inspiring for him.
Brady was elated to be checking out the sights and sniffs of the neighborhood and proceeded to prance about, pissing on all the things and looking about for new human friends. All he needed to complete the picture was a plumed hat, but he has a plumed tail, so that worked.
All was well and quite exciting until a white panel truck drove by.
So, Brady has a “thing” against certain trucks, and especially against buses. Thank god we did not see any buses or large tractor-trailer trucks on the walk. Okay, well we did see a tractor-trailer, but it was parked and quiet as it was performing a delivery, and therefore was not offensive.
Anyway, the sight of the white panel truck driving by pissed Brady off. First he lunged when he saw it driving past, then he had to sharply and continually rebuke it’s very presence, and I had to hear all about it.
I thought it wise to just turn for the hill to go back up into my neighborhood and home after that, rather than to go around the long way and potentially encounter other trucks on their morning rounds.
Next out was Camm.
I already know that Camm is incredibly skittish with cars whizzing by and with unknown people walking about. Luckily, it’s a school day, so no worries about encountering children. Camm is convinced children need to be nipped to control their erratic movements and to stop their sudden motion. I have to confess that I don’t feel she’s always wrong on this.
I decided to take Camm into a quiet adjoining neighborhood area. The street used to dead end and there’s hardly any through traffic on it, but it still makes for a pleasant walk.
Camm was definitely sketched out on the first part of the walk, pulling, darting and weaving in front of me like a yo-yo, but managed to handle her nervousness and still waited politely to cross the street to the quiet area. Once we actually got to the neighborhood, she visibly relaxed and started sniffing all the things and looking curiously at the halloween decorations. She was even polite about the three delivery men swapping washing machines and dryers out in front of one house, although I also steered a wide path for her.
The quiet neighborhood road comes out to a pretty busy street in my town and while I considered taking Camm for a longer walk, the idea was quickly nipped in the bud when I saw her face as she saw the traffic whizzing by. So back we went, and up the hill to my house.
I took Jasmine and Youke together for the third walk of the morning. Youke, like Brady and Camm, is a bit skittish about traffic going by and the sudden noises and sights. On the other hand, Jasmine is a pro. Jasmine is the only one of the four that ever had any kind of neighborhood walks. I never took her a lot because she’s a strong dog and pulls mightily, but at least she doesn’t freak out about traffic much.
This time I opted to go further up the hill from my house into the neighborhood above me. Being a work day, it was quiet and there was not much in the way of traffic, but by that time the wind had picked up and was swirling leaves and branches around. Trash cans sitting on the curb started to shake, although none actually fell in our walking path.
Youke was clearly feeling nervous, but Jasmine was very much into the smells of the neighborhood and peeing on not as many things as Brady, but still a lot of things. Pretty much every yard had to get a good sniff. Maybe it’s because she was so curious about the yards and smells, but Jasmine also wasn’t pulling like she used to do back in the day. I suppose all those years of loose leash walking training might have helped.
Because Jasmine seemed to be enjoying herself, and Youke had the comfort of Jasmine with him, I decided to extend our walk and go around the entire neighborhood outside loop, back onto the main street of the town and back up the hill to my house.
If you are counting, as I was, this was the third time I walked up the hill to my house. This is also the hill that I see neighborhood runners using as some sort of training tool.
I was soaked through with sweat when I got back in the house for the third and final time this morning. I also came to the embarrassing realization that I had done more physically by 10 am than I normally do by noon. Um, so I’ll confess that normally I’m still sipping my coffee at 10 am.
Just not a morning person. Unless it’s an agility weekend. Or a hiking with friends that like to be up early day. Otherwise, noon seems like a decent time to actually get out and about. I sort of forgot this about myself until this past summer.
The dogs are now laying about napping. I’m sure a nap will probably be in my future too.
* I might just have the vapors and lay down for a long time. Just got the call from the mechanic about my jeep. Funny how once your vehicle turns over 100,000 miles, the repairs suddenly start. All fairly minor stuff, which is good, but all that crap adds up. Ugh.
Halloween Came Early
I had one of the most frightening experiences of my life today. I’m sure JaYoBaCa would concur. Or at least JaYoCa would. Brady missed out on the whole thing. Lucky him.
Since I worked nearly all day Wednesday on tweaking a web site and the poor dogs didn’t get to do anything but lie around and recover from the adventure of the day before, decided that today we’d enjoy the sunshine and go for a romp. Unfortunately, it’s hunting season here and some of our usual haunts are off-limits. But there are still plenty of places to go and took the dogs to a tried and true favorite today.
We’d been out for an hour or so and I decided to wander over to a trail we’d gone on earlier in the week. However, the plan was altered when I realized there was a person ahead of us with two dogs of her own. No worries. Opted to take a side trail that I hardly ever see anyone take and off we went.
The ball-obsessed dogs, Youke, Brady and Camm, were all being a bit pesky about me throwing the ball again. But because they’d already had a fair amount of ball time and I just wanted to walk quietly down the trail, I informed them that we were “on a break.” Always cracks me up how many phrases my dogs know. I think this comes from living with just one very consistent human.
Brady, as usual and after being informed of the break, sprinted ahead to explore. The other three stayed pretty close, with Youke frequently throwing me glances to see if I’d changed my mind about the ball.
I guess my attention span wandered. Next thing I know I see Jasmine off to the side of the path and very interested in something. Then I realized she was snapping continuously at the air. That means biting, buzzing insects.
Jasmine had stumbled across a wasp nest of some sort.
Jasmine is one of the most fearless dogs I’ve ever met under certain circumstances. She’ll shake like a leaf at her annual examination at the vet’s, but when it comes to bees, hornets or wasps, she’s a fighter. In the spring, Jasmine will poke her nose in flowers and bushes for the pure sake of finding and destroying bees.
Bees though are an entirely different critter from wasps. I’m not sure Jasmine realizes this.
To my utter horror, I saw that both of Jasmine’s shoulders were crawling with wasps. I sharply barked a “leave it” to her to get her away from the apparent nest, swatted at her quickly and told her to run with me. Youke and Camm had come back closer to see what the problem was. I shouted at them to “go.” Youke quickly realized what was going on. Camm, being ever so curious – or maybe nosy – came over to Jasmine to see what was going on.
Now I had three dogs that had wasps crawling on them.
I stopped them all and swatted wasps off them as best as I could. We ran a little way more down the trial, then I stopped and quickly felt them all over, hoping I too wouldn’t get stung.
At that point it seemed the wasps were off the dogs. I think the cooler temperatures, especially where we were, helped vastly. The wasps were sluggish.
Then I saw Youke limping. I called him over to me and I checked his body. I found one wasp, swatted it off, but Youke was terrified and holding his paw up. I was unable to tell if he’d been stung on the paw (as in maybe he stepped on one), on the foreleg or on his shoulder. The sad thing was that as I was checking him, he was trembling violently.
I brought him closer to me and held him, bringing my face to his and nestling his head under my neck. Youke’s heart was pounding. I don’t think I’ve ever heard or felt a heart beat so loudly in my life.
At that point I worried he’d been stung multiple times and would either have a reaction of some sort or really was in incredible pain.
Since the Benadryl was in the car, I got out arguably the best medicine in the world for a dog like Youke. The Ball.
Turns out that while scared, and no doubt stung as well, The Ball made almost everything better.
I was able to determine that Youke still had full use of his paw and leg. The Ball also helped him to calm down.
But I was still worried about Camm and Jasmine. Although Camm’s coat isn’t thick, a wasp could still get tangled in it and sting her multiple times. I checked her over again more thoroughly and did find one wasp, which I quickly swatted away, but got stung it the process.
Jasmine’s coat is short, but she has a dense undercoat. Sure enough, several wasps were trapped in her coat. I managed to get them off her without getting stung myself.
It’s unclear if either Jasmine or Camm were stung at all. While I believe getting stung was unavoidable, neither of the girls reacted as if they had been.
Since I wanted some time to pass to allow the angry wasps to calm down, we continued going down the trail, which unfortunately dead ends.
Meanwhile, Brady popped up ahead of us and wanted to play ball. He couldn’t seem to grasp why everyone, particularly Youke, was all freaked out.
We reached the dead-end portion and I again did a body check on all four dogs, including Brady. To my dismay, I again saw Jasmine at the side of the trail snapped at something flying in the air. I don’t know if it was another batch of wasps or maybe some lone one that had followed us or emerged from someone’s fur, but I called the dogs to me and told them to run.
We ran for a little bit, then continued walking very rapidly back up the trail. I realized that eventually we’d intersect with the original scene but just told myself we’d run like hell if we had to.
While I knew roughly where that spot was, Youke knew exactly where it was. He stopped suddenly, tail tucked up so far between his legs that he looked as if he never had one. I called to him and assured him it’d be okay. He paced for a few seconds and then decided to trust me and made a beeline (no pun intended) for me.
Even Brady, who had missed the entire frightening episode, was acting freaked out by then. I’m not sure four dogs have ever been happier to see their vehicle and get in it.
Because I know from a wasp attack at home a few years ago how adept wasps are at hiding in dogs’ fur, I again swept my hands over everyone’s body to make sure we had no passengers. All seemed clear.
I should’ve known better.
Almost to the exit off the highway to get home and all four dogs started getting very antsy. I immediately knew that I had an unauthorized and scary passenger.
Sure enough, a wasp flew up to the front. Not gonna lie. I didn’t want that little fucker stinging me, much less any of my dogs. But because I somehow inherited some weird calm under pressure thing from my mother, I managed to get off the highway, onto my exit and drive a little way, while at the same time keeping in my lane, and scrolling the windows up and down to encourage Mr. Nasty to fly off.
Just as I turned into a shopping area parking lot, he did just that.
I hopped out of the car to check on the dogs and to once again see if there were still wasps on them or in the jeep. Youke was shaking again, but at that point I just figured it’d be better to get home as quickly as I could.
I did yet another body check on everyone when we got back home. Seemed as though finally the wasps were gone.
Ordinarily, the dogs like to check out the yard for a bit when we get home. Not today. Everyone just wanted to get inside to safety.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to ever convince Youke to go on that trail again.
The October Whirlwind Tour
Busy. So busy. Doing agility with my dogs, recovering from doing agility with my dogs, starting a new venture, stressing about starting a new venture and fighting endless headaches. That last bit is literally, although it’s also somewhat figurative as well.
Not sleeping very well of late hasn’t made it any easier either.
Of course, there’s still been lot’s of hiking/walking time.
A friend asked where Brady was off to when I posted this on Facebook. He’s far off in the distance in this picture, laying down on the trail. Brady likes to observe. Part of observing is finding the right balance point, and then being very still and watching.
Not ready to discuss much of the new venture yet as still working on details. Quite excited about it though. A major new chapter in my life I think.
I will briefly discuss my new dentist. He’s really quite attractive.
After putting off going to the dentist for way too long due to the aggravating personalities and tactics employed by my prior dentist’s office, I faced down my reluctance and made an appointment. with a new dentist. Was convinced I was going to be severely chastised and would have to have some dramatic procedure. I was sort of right on the first, although the dentist and the staff were really very sweet about it, and nothing major on the latter. Did have to undergo a deep cleaning and saw two old fillings removed and replaced, The dentist also fixed two chipped teeth and told me I grind my teeth.
According to him, I am a really bad teeth grinder. This is interesting to me. Although not the first time a dental professional has told me this – I even have a mouth guard somewhere – no one involved in my life has ever told me I do this. Of course those that would know were usually deep into sleep or are currently unable to converse in human language. I suspect I actually grind during the day. I used to catch myself clenching my jaw tightly at work. I’m hoping that’s relaxed a lot in the past six months or so.
My attractive new dentist also left me with good-sized bruise on my mouth. I forgive him though because I’m a sucker for certain men with dark eyes and dark hair.
Apparently, most people at the agility trial this weekend just assumed I just had dirt on my face. Not sure what this says about the observational skills of the agility community.
And speaking of agility, currently nearing the end of the annual October Whirlwind Tour.
All of my favorite agility trials seem to fall in the month of October. I’ve entered my dogs in an agility trial every weekend this month.
I can’t possibly recount all of the agility fun so far this month, so instead will mention some of the highlights from this past weekend’s trial.
The Top Dog CPE trial in October is in among my top three favorite trials to attend. It’s also the trial where Youke had his debut. For those two reasons, I really, really wanted him to get a C-ATCH (fancy agility championship title) at the show last year. It wasn’t meant to be. So this year, when I saw that he could possibly earn his C-ATCH 2 at this trial, I was excited. Additionally, because I love this trial so much, I decided I’d bring Jasmine out of retirement and do a couple of runs with her.
Youke dd not get his C-ATCH 2 this weekend. He needed to get qualifying scores in his two standard runs and it didn’t happen. Despite a really nice run on Saturday, he opted for an off course tunnel entrance when I pushed too far on his line. On Sunday, I forgot about his new rule about no off-side weave entries. Of course, Youke qualified in nearly everything else. Oh well, I still had fun with him anyway and except for his obvious dislike of weaves, the pictures from the trial offer evidence that he was pretty happy too.
I haven’t been taking Jasmine to many agility shows with the other dogs since retiring her officially in late June. While I’m sure she gets bored and lonely staying at home, coming to a trial and not doing much of anything can be boring too and doesn’t seem fair to her. At least at this venue the weather is typically quite a bit cooler and more comfortable and I can let her run around with the other dogs to go sniff around and play.
The addition of Jasmine always adds a whole new dimension of energy to our dynamic. While I can take the other three out and about and everyone is generally calm and well-behaved, Jasmine just has a certain spark that changes everyone’s chemistry. Even at 12 years of age. no one brings the crazy like Jasmine can.
Youke, Brady and Camm spent a fair amount of ball playing time darting away from Jasmine when she she came barreling in at them. Jasmine doesn’t even like to play ball. But she does like to prove she’s all that with the younger dogs.
I entered Jasmine in two classes on Sunday. She was phenomenal. She ran one course in 21 seconds, and clean. She had the best run out of the four dogs in fact. She also proved she’s still my snooker queen with a lovely snooker run. Her fan club showed up too to give her scritches, cheese and lots of praise. I think Jasmine was a bit overwhelmed with all of the attention, although she was also clearly very happy about seeing her peeps.
I’ve missed running her. Maybe more so because there was a time when running with her was excruciatingly painful, and then it wasn’t. The photos from the trial show that she was clearing her same old jump height with ease and style. However, as much fun as it was to bring her out and do a few runs, I’m sticking with the retirement plan. I’m also now more seriously considering trying out nosework with her as a fun thing to do with just her and I. A friend at the trial is doing it with her older dog and convinced me it’s something to try. The thing that convinced me the most was that she, like I, was concerned it’d be boring to do, but she conveyed it’s been so much fun for her to watch her dog play at this new game. So, maybe in a few months when I feel that life has settled a bit more.
Camm was a spitfire, as always. Whereas the weekend before we were hugely successful from a qualifying standpoint, this weekend we were not. Yet it felt like we were. A large part of that is that we’ve gained huge strides in our teamwork this month. About six weeks ago I was growing more frustrated and thinking that I needed to take a break with her. Then I calmly evaluated where we were and realized progress is often best made in small steps. So I once again put myself in the mode of working with her on one thing at a time at each trial. What a difference! I now have a dog with a decent start line stay and a dog that is much more willing to put her own frustrations aside and work with me fairly – as in no snipping. Camm and I are still very much a team in progress, and there’s still some very ugly stuff, but I’ll take full responsibility as I simply need to trust her more and be the handler she needs. I’ve discovered in the past few weeks that she is incredibly talented and has the potential to be even more of a powerhouse than Brady.
Brady provided me with some of my favorite highlights from the weekend. We did well all weekend, but he had a flawless run in jumpers and he earned not only a qualifying score in snooker, but a first place score too.But more than this, each of those two runs had memorable moments.
I’m pretty pleased that Brady and I as a team are presently very much “on.” It feels really, really good and very, very special. Still, an adrenaline-filled moment (i.e. fear, also known as deer in the headlights), is completing a front cross just as your intense locomotive of a red dog comes flying out of a tunnel and through a tire straight at you, and he has absolutely no worries that you might be in his way. That happened during our jumpers run. I’m pretty proud of myself that my execution was fairly flawless too.
The memorable moment in snooker wasn’t that I figured out a smooth, flowing path for Brady to run or that we executed it well, it was the finish to the table.
Brady does not like the table in agility. The table is used to stop the game or to temporarily halt the run. Personally, I feel his pain. I think the table is pretty stupid too. Because Brady is a dog that love the agility game and loves to run – he’d love if the courses had about twice as many obstacles to run – we frequently have arguments about getting on the table. Sunday’s snooker run was no exception. I suppose I should consider myself lucky that the argument only lasted for five seconds or so (an eternity in agility). Two weeks ago, Brady raced around and around in a tunnel, coming out to bark at me in the course of the circles, in order to avoid getting on the table. That maneuver was a crowd favorite, eliciting much laughter and more than a few cheers when he finally agreed to step on the table.
I felt a tiny bit of redemption when I saw other dogs engaging in similar behavior, especially several border collies, although none did it with quite the flair Brady has,
I have four days now to recover from this weekend before the almost final stop of the October Whirlwind Tour.
Random Wednesday Rambling
Another day of rambling about. I’m enjoying these lovely early fall days of just wandering, exploring faint animal paths and just contemplating life.
Meanwhile, the dogs are enjoying the endless sniffing. Jasmine is also enjoying the sometimes finding of dead things.
No pictures, because it was uber gross, but Jasmine began crunching on something she found on our walk today. When I saw how disgustingly icky it was, I asked her to drop it. She had to think long and hard about it, but eventually she did. It was supremely revolting. I picked it up with the chukka ball stick to examine it. I admittedly sometimes find disgusting things interesting. After much looking, I realized it was a very messed up bunny head. The two front teeth were what finally gave it away.
Youke found something delightful to roll in. Often, my dogs’ ideas of what smells delightful and mine are not shared. However, Youke really did roll in something rather pleasant-smelling. If you like wild, woodsy, slightly musky smells that is. Hey, at least it’s not the stank that so many of my friends’ dogs decide to permeate within their fur.
Brady likes to run on ahead, but lately has been very good about waiting for the rest of us up a little ways. Sometimes though it’s a bit eery to go around a bend and find him in a down and staring intently at us.
Since it was such a gorgeous afternoon, we meandered down some trace paths left by the various woodland critters. And there really is a path here.
Camm was rewarded for posing for a picture exactly two times with a ball earlier this summer. Guess who now thinks she’s a supermodel? It’s amusing actually. I whip out the camera and she plants herself in front of me with her trademark smile and sparkly eyes. I guess I need to whip out some liver for Jasmine. Or maybe a bunny head.
Enjoying it all while we still can. Endless summer will be ending soon.
YoBaCaRy 