Star light, star bright...

Q: Name one benefit to a dog with a 13 year old bladder?

A: the Milky Way.

Age is fast catching up with Mac; lately he's having difficulty making it through the night without needing a trip outside. If I'm lucky, he wakes me up for door service. If I'm unlucky... well, let's just say brick and tile floors have significant benefits in the ease-of-clean-up department.

Last night he woke me around 3 a.m. I got him safely into the potty yard - canine cognitive dysfunction means sometimes he gets lost - and soaked in the stillness. No vehicle noise, not even the miles-away interstate. No dogs, no roosters, no coyotes, no breeze. Nothing. Totally silent. I looked up. In my head I heard Carl Sagan saying "billions and billions" - it was hovering around 30 degrees and I was in my jammies, but oh my... "it's full of stars." The new moon means there's no extraneous light; the silent hulk of mountains to the west was the only line defining the horizon.

Years ago, my friend Whitney and I talked about soul-scapes. She would curl up and die without the ocean, and so she lives in a coastal city. She loves the desert, but doesn't need it the way I do. I love the ocean - the smell, the sound, the way the salt sticks to my legs, the way it tastes... but I don't need it. We visit each other and treasure the landscapes, but each of us is happiest at home.

I am so lucky to live here, the one place on earth that completely fills me with peace and beauty. Mac neither sees nor remembers the night sky, so I treasure the rising winter constellations and the bright band of the universe itself for both of us.

Old Age and Gravity

Denial only works for so long.

This weekend the two dreaded horrors I've assumed would never happen to me - well, happened.

One, plucking eyebrows (my sole regular concession to vanity) uncovered a gray eyebrow hair. I have little enough eyebrows to begin with, and so began the newest dilemma: to pluck or not to pluck, that is the question... I'm no stranger to gray hairs - after all, I do have a teen-aged son with a driver's license - but on my FACE??? Oy.

Two, Saturday afternoon I stepped in a hole and something in my knee went. A knee brace and massive quantities of acetaminophen got me through the night and Sunday, but by Monday the compensating limp had started the other knee to aching. Tomorrow I go to the doctor... my dad has two bionic knees, guess that may be in my future too

Repeat to self: Getting old beats the alternative!!

Let it snow?

Um, what happened to fall?

I mean, we've got the firewood stacked and I've ordered propane, but seriously... A few weeks ago we were in shorts until bedtime, then the predictable change to putting sandals away and keeping a sweatshirt in the car. But SNOW???

Terrifyingly, I'm guessing that means the holidays are closer than I want to contemplate. Denial is my friend...


Sure wish I'd closed the barn doors; oh well.

The good news is, the rattlesnakes have probably all gone to ground for the winter. Probably. I hope - as the fall coursing season (well, winter) is here and the dogs are out every weekend. Our elevation is inhospitable for rattlers, but most fields are better habitat.

In the time I've been typing, it's started snowing HARDER and is now starting to accumulate. Love my SUBARU!!! The puppy walked through the photo:

And why she thinks this means she gets to spend the day lounging on the sofa is beyond me... outside, silly girl, you're from Siberia!!

I've started the wood stove and found my boots; let it snow all it wants.

Update: The propane tank is full; there's $700 worth of cooking fuel for the next year. It also runs the wimpy furnace that just barely takes off the chill in the early winter mornings. It's warmed up to 37 degrees, the snow is transforming to mud. Lovely.

And last but not least, this is from early September:
Tarantulas regularly cross the roads around here in fall... there might be a joke in there somewhere, but I don't know the punchline. Gorgeous, fascinating creatures. (Thanks to Whitney for sending me the pictures from her visit.)

True Love

One of the most intimate and rewarding relationships I have is with a six year old.

That may sound a bit weird until you realize that this isn't with a child, but a bitch. Not just any bitch, but one with an opposable thumb and middle finger.

My involvement with Dot was intense before she even arrived. I spent a year searching for a breeder for a new puppy - not just any puppy of course but a border collie bitch, confident and stable - as my agility partner. A year!! That may sound excessive, but I've found that taking so much time enables me to be really sure, totally comfortable, with a decision. Dogs live at least 12 years; it's not a choice I make lightly.

With patience and persistence I found a breeder, one with high standards and exceptional lines. With luck she had a puppy that sounded right; she approved our home, and the match was made. With Dot, I got so much more than I could have ever expected. She is my friend, my partner, and - frequently - my teacher.

What has happened over the past several years has been a roller coaster of hope, despair, adjustment, bliss, and change. From emergency surgery to a string of first place finishes and easy titles to career-ending injuries to new sports to conquer, Dot has done everything I've ever asked, with mind-blowing speed and intensity. As her seventh birthday approaches, I flinch at the thought that the ride is half over. I love Dot more than air; she is so far deep inside my being that I am incapacitated by the notion that I will, someday, be forced to be without her.

There are great dogs: dogs that do things we determine to be great, dogs that make the news for heroic deeds, dogs that change peoples lives though quiet acts. And there are dogs that effect change through sheer force of presence; Dot is a force of nature. She is tough - incredibly tough - in mind and spirit.

But she is reckless; her body has proven to be more fragile than her will, and that has cost us both quite dearly. For good or ill, with Dot it is never about the journey, it's only about the destination. And getting there as fast as speeding bullet, sometimes with as much destruction.

There are no "freebies" with Dot, every day is a challenge. Despite that, her ability and willingness to try anything that occurs to either her or me is a constant joy. Agility? Her first three runs on the field were all blue ribbons, picking up a standard title her first weekend. No other dog was within 10 seconds of her time. (She retired with only two titles after destroying both an elbow and a knee. Speed kills.) Herding? The first two instructors I took her to offered to either buy her or train and trial her for me. (She has titles in three venues, with me at the crook.) Obedience? We went into the ring to try it, and half way through Dot told me that it was repetitive and dull and would I *please* pay attention to how boring it was? (She was right, and we never went back.) Rally? That has been both fun and entertaining, as her obsession with jumps sometimes overpowers her attention while heeling - but the titles racked up anyway. Her official name is: Turandot, CGC, NAC, TN-N, HCT, STD-s, JHD, PT, HTD, RAE

Dot is a typical border collie - intense, intelligent, and a little bizarre. She loves watching TV; her favorite programs involve animals - no cartoons, however - and pro bull riding not to be missed. She is both a supreme alpha bitch and exceptionally gentle with puppies. She flings tennis balls into your knees for another throw (once training a neighbor to throw for her by stuffing the ball through a hole in the fence), is an exceptional foot warmer on the sofa and in bed, and an incomparable traveling companion. She is safe with babies, cats, and has no interest in food - and we have to spell s-h-e-e-p or she heads to the door, eager to work.

She is also completely unique. No other dog I know can turn on the TV, or understands that the remote control is needed to change the channel. At a dead run she has a double-suspension gallop, rare outside sighthound breeds. She will meet any dog's challenge with fire in her eye, but is completely non-lethal. Only Dot sleeps on the bed, every night. And she is dead safe with all people. Dot can herd cattle, goats, and sheep, but not ducks. There's nothing she can't learn, and quite a lot I'm not entirely sure how she figured out. I speak to her in complete sentences, and she often replies in kind.

A couple of years ago we went to a herding trial in the morning (she took first and finished a title), then drove a hundred miles to an agility trial in the afternoon. On a lark I entered her in an class with no jumps. After second-guessing myself as we waited our turn, then getting a terrible case of nerves as we went in the ring, it began. We ran as one, sharing vision, breath, heartbeat, focus, and joy. Agility can do that - two species with a single soul. For fifteen seconds, we were one being. Agility veterans call it "the dance" and it is as powerful as any addictive substance. After crossing the finish line I collapsed into tears; thankfully my son was there to catch me and Dot. They were complicated tears: happiness, release, anger and frustration of all the years of dancing we missed because of injury - and temptation to compete again anyway, just to feel it, one more time. Dot sparkled and begged to go again; she felt it too.

Her size, coat, and color (leggy, smooth, tri) elicit comments, and recently people have referred to her as both young looking and beginning to gray. I only see her eyes, locked on mine, unblinking, screaming with intensity, full of challenge and sentience and mischief. The love of my life; may she reign forever.

Still at 50%

A reader reminded me that I had promised pictures of the kennel project, so here they are. Lucky for you I swept out the dog hair and dust this morning - a constant battle in the desert. I'm posting no pictures of the outside, as it needs some trim around the door and a good coat of paint. There's a HUGE pinon to the west of the kennel, providing late afternoon shade. The inside remains a work in progress, I haven't decided how much insulating to do yet. Probably the ceiling before winter, maybe the north wall. Or maybe not, the budget will decide.

First up, the reasons I wanted this shed for a kennel building. One, to stop sleeping in a kennel myself (see earlier post on this topic). Two, it's only two dozen steps from the house, much closer than the barn. Three, it's very well built. Concrete slab, industrial-strength built in shelving, and already has power. In fact, the only thing lacking is a doggie door to the puppy paddock and a water supply; one of those will be very easy to add. The other necessary item is a smoke detector with a remote alarm; anybody knows where to get one, please drop me a note.

This first shot is the NW corner; as you can see the built-in shelving has been put to use storing crates and trial supplies. To the left some metal shelving was slid in; each tub contains gear for a specific sport (Rally, coursing, racing, CGC, agility, etc.). The bottom space is roughly the size of a 700 crate; the left side has been fitted with hog panel, the front (above the date stamp) has a top-hinged piece of hog panel to make the front of the "crate." Add a platform bed or thick padding, and voila: sleeping space.

Continuing our tour to the right, is the window. This is set into the north wall of the building, and has been fitted with a bi-directional fan made by Honeywell. We have several of these in our house to move air around during the summer, and they are great. Mechanical (not electronic) controls, so they come back on after a power hit (frequent during our monsoon season); variable speed; independently reversible (for example, one blowing in, the other out).

Out the window you can just make out the perimeter fence of the puppy paddock (so called because that's where the puppies started out this spring). It's about 1,700 square feet, with 5' field of welded wire fence, and has digging deterrent items. The doggie door will go under this window, once I can figure out how exactly to prevent the blasting winter wind from getting in.

Opposite the window is the door, so this is facing south. The red thing is a battered space blanket, necessary to keep out the sun. It's both reflective (on the other side) as well as creating shade. I have a half dozen and use them for an endless variety of things - fence shade, shade on the outside of the van, a waterproof barrier under an x-pen, insulation under same... they are easy to clean, easy to store, and incredibly versatile. A new one will have to be put up every year, which is fine as they're pretty inexpensive.

Just under the red you can see the van; how simple it is now to grab a tub of gear, load dogs, and go for the weekend. Wahoo!

I wanted to be able to leave the door open, for ventilation, but not have the bugs take over. Luckily I found an affordable walk-thru screen. Just to the left, on the wall, you may be able to make out a wall switch; that's for the overhead light. On either side of the door are power outlets, I think there's four, total. The screen keeps out the bugs, but the dogs can walk through it as they please. I, however, have to duck to miss the shade.

Below: the left picture is the NE corner; Py and Ren are having breakfast. (Which reminds me, winter is coming and critters are looking for shelter, I need to get some more RatZappers.) There's ample room for these two 700-size crates, or smaller sizes could go in 3 wide and even 2 high. Options are good... To the right is the SE corner, with the raised, heated platform with edging:



Speaking of options, if Oxota is ever blessed with a litter, we will of course whelp and rear in the house (the space in the family room has long been identified), but when the puppies are old enough to start exploring, this area looks like it could be a good destination. I'm thinking we could take out the crates and run an x-pen from the doggie-door, across the length of the building, to the left of the main door. Access to the fenced puppy paddock via the doggie door, access to shelter and warmth via same. Of course yet more work needs to be done (as well as finding a new home for the ladder - maybe the barn?) before it could go into effect, such as an escape for the dam needing a break, but I have visions of happy puppies... racing out the door, making piles to sleep, and growing up strong and fit. Someday...

Opposite the raised heated bed (installed by the previous owners, who had outside-only dogs), on the other side of the door, is another built-in crate. This would be the north-west corner. Here you can see (because the door is closed) the "finished" product, with the hog-panel door in the "down" position and held in place with snapbolts to the eye-bolts. There's currently sleeping spaces for four dogs, with ample room for two more.

I don't need it all right now, and might never, but the arrangement has already proved its merits with visiting bitches over the past few months. The shelving above is the same industrial-strength as the first picture (which is to the right of this) and holds crates, miscellaneous supplies, and - temporarily - tools being used for the project.

And one of these days I'll get off the 50% bubble and can claim 100% done.