Adios, 2009

What a year. Plans made, some executed, some abandoned.

A son sent off to college, now home for the holidays and easily mistaken for a man. I'm flabbergasted by how much more him he is - his good characteristics are even stronger.

The dogs had another banner year. Dot and Jake were retired, and Gin entered the field. Many trials were attended, the hounds earned some titles and national rankings, and much fun was had by all. I'm proud of them.

This time last year Bugg arrived, it's been a pleasurable education overall, having her here. We lost Mac and Junior this year, but have been joined by puppy Trek. Our pack is a compatible if diverse lot.

And although we lost my Uncle Doug in the spring, overall the family is happy and healthy and everyone's on affectionate speaking terms - a blessing.

Deepest appreciation to my many friends for a wonderful year. May 2010 be even better.

Hide and Seek

I have a client that is looking for a puppy, their elderly dog having recently passed away. They are willing to pay good money to an ethical breeder for the "right" puppy, and I applaud their approach: health testing, temperament testing, contract.

But of course when asking the local dog community for referrals (I'm not an expert in their breed of choice) I got one person who insists a shelter dog or rescue is the only way to go. Many people responded with references to local breeders (in the time-zone and adjacent states being our definition of local around here), all of which I passed along. But the "only good dog is a rescue dog" mentality irritates me.

Found a great line today:

The majority of purebreds are produced by family pets and commercial breeders, their puppies as far removed from the show ring as a second-hand pickup from the Formula One track.

It's from this article, and while I don't agree with the author's position on cropping and docking, much of it is sensible.

Wascally Wabbits

The NM jacks are very hard to find this year, so I've stepped my efforts to learn more about them.

I've published the link to Dutch Salmon's article several times, and I figure once more won't hurt.

Thanks to falconer Paul for the tip that black-tailed jackrabbits are protected in Washington state, I found two more articles:

This first piece was referenced in several places, I finally found what looks like the original site. The second one has information on rabbits around the globe; very interesting. And finally a historical view on jacks, which reminds me of why not all deaths are equal.

If anyone knows of other authoritative sources or scientific research, please let me know about it in Comments. Thanks.

Coming to a Screen Near You

If you get BBCA, watch this week: Pedigreed Dogs Exposed.

If you don't, try the link in this blog post and see if you can watch on-line.

Either way, breed clubs and breeders need to be prepared for the US reaction.

Winter terror-land

It hasn't been above 30 in a few days, but some people insist on driving like it's a warm summer day.

Seen on my way home from town:
Incredibly, the driver walked away.

We've gotten 6" of snow since daybreak, it should stop sometime tomorrow. Good thing we've laid in some firewood!

Raison d’être

We've all heard - either as advice we give our children or perhaps directed to ourselves - to follow your bliss. This isn't insipid advice from a 99 cent greeting card - it is actually a profound and fundamental truth.

Years ago my father, an orchestra conductor, advised Anthony (then an aspiring cello player), not to pursue a career in professional music unless he couldn't live without it. Being a musician is a tough way to make a living, much less in classical music. But if one is a musician (or an artist of any sort), life without that art is hell itself.

I've come to believe that is true, on some level, of all productive activity. Be it work or hobby, there's a self-fullfilling cycle: If you enjoy your work, you will be good at your work. If you are good at something, you're more likely to want to do it. In training, we call this a self-reinforcing behavior. There are lots of examples, food and sex being the most profound. If it feels good, do more of it, right? Think about comfort foods and masturbation, and the truth of this becomes obvious.

Some things are obvious only after first-hand experience, and I was reminded of this again yesterday. I took Gin open field coursing, and her unrestrained ecstasy at discovering why she exists gave me joy, as well. She loves plastic games (lure coursing and racing), really loves them. They are fun fun fun and Gin is always happy to go play. But yesterday she found her purpose for being: chasing live game over rough terrain in cold weather. This is what borzoi were developed to do, this is what they do better than any other breed. (Yes, some are faster and some have more endurance, but none other hits that trifecta out of the park.) Gin thought cotton-tails looked like fun and should be chased, but once loosed on the jackrabbit, she transformed.

I have seen this before, Py and Ren and Day all learned the same lesson about themselves - the why of their being. It's just like a border collie when they "turn on" at herding: OH!! I make the sheep move by doing THIS. And they become their true selves.

Hundreds of generations of DNA can not be denied. The truth is it feels good to do that at which we are best. Basically, "do what you love, love what you do."

And perhaps this is why we humans - as a species - have so much trouble figuring out what to do with our lives. We have hundreds of generations of DNA for... nothing in particular. So Anthony has a love and appreciation of music that only a musician can have, but it is not his raison d’être. His opportunities to discover other interests have led him in a different direction, one that is easy for him simply because he loves it so much.

The hard part is to find what you love. The easy part is, just do it.

Training is Playing

We say it all the time:

Train like you compete; compete like you train.

And the best training resembles play - and this is a wonderful example. Enjoy!

To hell with the consequences

I just let my fingers do the walking.

Anthony's roommate, in whom we had such confidence, has turned out to be a drunk. A danger to himself and a risk to Anthony's academic career.

Omerta - the code of silence - is alive and well within the dorm walls. Although we have been aware of this growing problem for several weeks, it initially seemed appropriate to let the roomies deal with this themselves. No more. I no longer care that it "isn't done" to rat-out one's roomie. I no longer care that "mom" shouldn't interfere in a situation 1500 miles away. I am no longer hesitant to butt into a dangerous situation.

The proverbial last straw? The roommate's drinking has gone too far. Since he turned 19, Jesse progressed to passing out in the room, gagging on his own vomit. Anthony spent Saturday night and Sunday keeping his roommate alive, instead of sleeping and studying.

That is not what a 17 year old should be doing with his weekend.

So this morning I picked up the phone and called the university employee in charge of that dormitory. Anthony will be pissed at me, and so will Rick. But I don't care. If I were Jesse's mom, I'd want somebody to pick up the phone and get my kid the help he needs.

Because the consequences of inaction are too awful to contemplate.

Horse of the Year 2009

This is her: Zenyatta - unbeaten and untouchable.



Her biggest competition, Rachel Alexander, wasn't on the track this weekend. Let the voting begin.

What a year!

Sex and life

The study on longevity and spaying has been getting forwarded a lot recently; here's a link to the original published article:

http://www.gpmcf.org/respectovaries.html

Food for thought and more data against MSN and early forced spay.

One of those days

Dog + Kids = Magic

This morning Py and I did our weekly visit with the kids at the treatment center. We usually hang out in one of the classrooms, the kids cycle through as they work on a particular assignment or project. Sometimes we're involved in a treatment session, but not always. This week they are making and hanging Halloween decorations, which requires measuring and math. Then kids ended up measuring Mr. Py (as they call him), comparing their results in centimeters and inches, adding height at elbow to height from elbow to withers or top of head, comparing to height of hocks and hip. Around the ribs, waist, neck, each leg in various places. Then along his head, length of spine, add length of tail... you get the idea. Then they got out a stamp pad and used one of Mr. Py's feet to make paw prints in their decorations. It was very cool how they included him in the day's activities.

In the middle of all this activity, one little girl had lain down on the floor; I asked if she weren't feeling well. (It's germ season and the facility has strict rules about symptoms.) I miss my dad, she said, and looked unbearably sad. I let the teacher know she was having a hard time, the teacher suggested the girl draw to let out her feelings; she did, then gave the teacher her drawing.

Next thing I know Mr. Py is pulling and pulling, he wants out of the classroom. The doorway is covered with decorations (big scary streamers of bats and spiders) so I can't see what's out there. The teacher sticks her head in, asks if she can hold Mr. Py's leash in the hallway. Something in her face makes me say yes.

Mr. Py went and leaned on this girl, who then was able to talk with a counselor in the hall. I could see a little through the streamers; he just stood there, touching her, while she stroked him. I couldn't hear the conversation, but was later told the girl was considering suicide and had drawn a picture of a knife. Until Mr. Py had forced his way to her, she wasn't talking. By the time we left she was laughing.

Cured of her depression? Of course not. But, thanks to the miracle of a dog who felt her pain and insisted on helping, this girl has the support of the adults around her and will get the treatment she needs.

Py is now sleeping, he will for about 24 hours. The level of toxic hell some of these kids have survived is indescribable; they dump it out of their systems and Mr. Py takes some of it away from them. Then he has to recover. Every week he stamps his feet at my car - it's Thursday morning! Let's go see my kids! Then he drags me to the front door, down the stairs and to his kids - and becomes Mr. Py.

I can't explain it, I didn't train it, it's just a gift he has. It's days like this that make me appreciate the ability to listen to dogs, to trust them, to go with what they know - even when I'm in over my head.

Never Say Never

Somewhere, there's a patch of hell that has frozen over. I know this because today, despite all previous pronouncements to the contrary, I set it foot in the Conformation ring and the Obedience ring on the same day. Have to say, I never thought that would happen.

Now, we pause so that those that know me well can pick themselves up off the floor after fainting; please enjoy the music.

Dum, deedle dum, tra la la. (Thanks for listening.)

When I happen to be at a dog show, which is usually because I have a dog entered in Rally, I do try to watch the breed ring. I used to watch the Border collies in particular, but the specimines one finds in the show ring nauseate me so I no longer do. I know too much, have seen too many bench champions fail a basic herding instinct test, have seen too many brilliant herding dogs get passed over in the show ring, to have any use whatsoever for the opinion of any conformation judge of this breed. Correction - they are now separate breeds: working border collies and barbie collies. There are always exceptions so spare me the story of the one you've seen. Barbie collies are easy to identify: heavy bone, insane amounts of coat, typically low drive (easier to live with than a real, working border collie), too stupid to know which end of a sheep to stalk (also easier to live with than a real, working border collie), and a sea of monotonous irish marked, black and white. No thanks.

Lately I make a point to watch sighthound judging, and borzoi in particular, as most sighthound breeds are not yet fully split into bench and working types. This is a highly probable outcome, and has long since happened in many other breeds.

Take a look at any of the following: Golden Retriever, Labrador Retriever, Cocker Spaniel or Irish Setter - you get the idea, the list is endless - there are "field" lines and "show" lines. Pick any small terrier breed; JRT's are now called Parsons in the show ring, in less than a decade there is a complete split. I refer you again to working border collies, ruined in merely three generations; herding ability is genetically complex. Greyhounds are almost there, Whippets are inches away.

When I'm watching sighthound judging I look to see if the judge knows what he or she is doing. Do they go for profuse coat? TRAD movement? (TRAD is "tremendous reach and drive" - very flashy, totally inefficient, and absolutely incorrect for sighthounds.) Move dogs with obviously bad temperaments to the end of the line? Since I know most of the local dogs, I compare what the judge selects against my personal observations of each dog's coursing ability. Does the judge carefully examine the topline for flexibility? Or do they go for handlers? Have a color bias? Prefer size over soundness or physical condition?

Standing ringside for hound group judging, I joined in a conversation with two strangers, one of whom turned out to be a sighthound person and a conformation judge. We were discussing the difference between a great dog and a great show dog - and all agreed they are two different things, rarely seen in a single individual. He commented that what he hates most is those interviews of the Best In Show judge on TV, when the judge says "He just asked for the win!" What would be much better, we all agreed, would be to say something like: "This dog is an excellent example of its breed, has a correct temperament, all it's teeth, is not overweight, is well muscled, moves soundly, appears to be in glorious health." Can you just imagine what John Q Public would learn about dogs if that were repeated after every televised dog show? Even better, can you imagine how show dogs would improve if every breeder / owner / handler were working toward those goals?

But I digress. (Thank you for not fainting from shock a second time in a single post.)

So today I was standing ringside, rooting for my friends and watching the judge - who, predictably, did not put up what I consider to be the best coursing hound. No surprise there. However, one friend wound up with two dogs in best of breed judging, and I was drafted to assist. Luckily I was dressed properly (yes, the handler's attire matters, more proof it isn't about the dogs nearly as much as they pretend it is), borrowed some bait, and ventured into the ring. I managed not to fall down or step on the hound or mess up anyone next to me in line, so I will declare the experience a rousing success.

I was properly dressed because I was entered in Obedience - Novice A, to be exact - the last class of the day, in a ring at the far end of the trial site. Good news: late in day, fewer distractions, small class, etc. Bad news: outdoor show, hot sunshine, sighthound, 5 of the 7 exercises are off leash.

I am thrilled to report that my dog, a borzoi, did NOT leave the ring chasing anything, and did NOT mark the ring (pee) although a bitch had done so not 15 minutes before we walked in. As hoped, I learned the specific things I need to work on (uncued, auto-sits when heeling; single verbal cue for recall; more duration for off-leash heeling). And as icing on the cake, my big bozo was the only Novice dog (A or B) that passed both the long Sit and the long Down.

Don't get me wrong, we did not qualify, but I was thrilled none the less: we had accomplished MORE than I had expected. In short, another rousing success in a foreign ring.

As we were leaving the ring, the judge indicated to me that she'd like a word. Not one to argue with the judge, I scooted my hound into the shade and gave her my rapt attention. The judge - no doubt with the best intentions - then berated me for not taking things seriously, my dog obviously didn't respect me, and if I ever expected to accomplish anything with him (yes, that's a quote) I needed to be better prepared. Borzoi, she explained, are a noble breed, she likes to see them do well, I should appreciate what they are capable of. I tried to smile politely and said that it was MY first time in an actual Obedience ring and the day's exercise was for me to see what *I* need to work on, I thought the dog was fine. I meant no disrespect by being casual, I'd been doing Rally for several years and was feeling my way through the differences. The judge said, ah yes Rally, well yes, this is quite different. At that moment, someone told the judge to look at the catalogue (which contains the dog's registered name and titles), as there was nothing that particular dog couldn't do. (Can I just say, I LOVE my 4-H kids' parents!!) I thanked the judge, beamed a smile at the 4-H mom, found my dog's cookies, and headed back back to our set-up area.

Along the way I was waylaid by another exhibitor, who, after asking if she could tell me something, proceeded to loudly and repeatedly admonish me for the collar I had on my dog in the ring. (A perfectly legal collar, by the way, that I had pre-cleared with the judge.) Really? You're getting after me me for my choice of collar?

Now I ask you: what if today had been my first EVER time at a dog trial? Novice A is for rookies, it's the class for rank beginners. How many people can take a dressing-down from a judge, in front of the ring crew and spectators, not qualify, and ever want to come back for more? How many people can be loudly, and unfairly, publicly criticized for the collar their dog is wearing, and ever want to come back for more? My guess is: very few.

What's wrong with dog shows isn't the grooming that would make a prom-queen cry or the spectators or the weather or the entry fees or the roach-coach food vendors or the clothes or the frequently pretentious atmosphere to the entire circus. It's not the absurd glossy magazines filled with carefully edited pictures or the staggering costs of campaigning a special. It isn't even that the dogs winning couldn't run a mile if their lives depended on it, much less do it over and over. No, what's wrong with dog shows is the politics and the people (yes, I know those always come as a package), the lack of encouragement or support or compliments for those just trying something new. What's wrong is all the bullshit and one-up-manship and nastiness.

Sure, we should try to do a creditable job and train our dogs and be prepared. And at the top levels of any game, a certain amount of competitive edge is inevitable. But at some silly little local show, is it too much to ask that we remain civil toward one another? Nice? Polite? Take a moment and offer the rookie a pat on the back instead of harsh remarks?

Here's hoping for a thaw.

Rescue Me

Yeah, I'm behind. WAY behind. I have a half-dozen posts in my head, many with pretty pictures, but it's fall and I'd rather be outside in the glorious glorious air than inside on the 'puter. Plus it's trial season and I'm out of town 3 days every week and insanely busy teaching and when I am home it's all-laundry-all-the-time time.

Anyway, the following showed up on one of the lists this morning, I have no idea who the author is but it nails the human condition as frequently seen in animal rescue work. (The most expensive dog I own was a rescue, his history is one of neglect. The third time he was picked up by Animal Control the owner didn't want him back - don't ask for my opinion of that guy 'cause I'll tell you. How Boomer wound up with us is a long story, but he is here to stay, warts and all.) It's not the dogs' fault they wind up in rescue, but it's rare to find a perfect dog there.

If you recognize yourself in any of these, I hope you take that as a cue to change your ways.

A RESCUER'S ANSWERING MACHINE:

Hello: You have reached ___-____, Tender Hearts Rescue. Due to the igh volume of calls we have been receiving, please listen closely to the following options and choose the one that best describes you or your situation:

Press 1 if you have a 10-year-old dog and your 15-year-old son has suddenly become allergic and you need to find the dog a new home right away.

Press 2 if you are moving today and need to immediately place your 150 pound, 8-year-old dog.

Press 3 if you have three dogs, had a baby and want to get rid of your dogs because you are the only person in the world to have a baby and dogs at the same time.

Press 4 if you just got a brand new puppy and your old dog is having problems adjusting so you want to get rid of the old one right away.

Press 5 if your little puppy has grown up and is no longer small and cute and you want to trade it in for a new model.

Press 6 if you want an unpaid volunteer to come to your home TODAY and pick up the dog you no longer want.

Press 7 if you have been feeding and caring for a "stray" for the last three years, are moving and suddenly determine it's not your dog.

Press 8 if your dog is sick and needs a vet but you need the money for your vacation.

Press 9 if you are elderly and want to adopt a cute puppy who is not active and is going to outlive you.

Press 10 if your relative has died and you don't want to care for their elderly dog because it doesn't fit your lifestyle.

Press 14 if you are calling at 6 a.m. to make sure you wake me up before I have to go to work so you can drop a dog off on your way to work.

Press 15 to leave us an anonymous garbled message, letting us know you have left a dog in our yard in the middle of January, which is in fact, better than just leaving the dog with no message.

Press 16 if you are going to get angry because we are not going to take your dog that you have had for fifteen years, because it is not our responsibility.

Press 17 if you are going to threaten to take your ten year old dog to be euthanized because I won't take it.

Press 18 if you're going to get angry because the volunteers had the audacity to go on vacation and leave the dogs in care of a trusted volunteer who is not authorized to take your personal pet.

Press 19 if you want one of our PERFECTLY trained, housebroken, kid and cat friendly purebred dogs that we have an abundance of.

Press 20 if you want us to take your dog that has a slight aggression problem, i.e.. has only bitten a few people and killed your neighbor's cats.

Press 21 if you have already called once and been told we don't take personal surrenders but thought you would get a different person this time with a different answer.

Press 22 if you want us to use space that would go to a stray to board your personal dog while you are on vacation, free of charge, of course.

Press 23 if it is Christmas Eve or Easter morning and you want me to deliver an eight week old puppy to your house by 6:30 am before your kids wake up.

Press 24 if you have bought your children a duckling, chick or baby bunny for Easter and it is now Christmas and no longer cute.

Press 25 if you want us to take your female dog who has already had ten litters, but we can't spay her because she is pregnant again and it is against your religion.

Press 26 if you're trying to make one of our younger volunteers feel bad and take your personal pet off your hands.

Press 27 if your cat is biting and not using the litter box because it is declawed, but you are not willing to accept the responsibility that the cat's behavior is altered because of your nice furniture.

Press 28 if your two year old male dog is marking all over your house but you just haven't gotten around to having him neutered.

Press 29 if you previously had an outdoor only dog and are calling because she is suddenly pregnant.

Press 30 if you have done "everything" to housebreak your dog and have had no success but you don't want to crate the dog because it is cruel.

Press 31 if you didn't listen to the message asking for an evening phone number and you left your work number when all volunteers are also working and you are angry because no one called you back.

Press 32 if you need a puppy immediately and cannot wait because today is your daughter's birthday and you forgot when she was born.

Press 33 if your dog's coat doesn't match your new furniture and you need a different color or breed.

Press 34 if your new love doesn't like your dog and you are too stupid to get rid of the new friend (who will dump you in the next month anyway) instead of the dog.

Press 35 if you went through all these 'options' and didn't hear enough. This press will connect you to the sounds of tears being shed by one of our volunteers who is holding a discarded old dog while the vet mercifully frees him from a life of no medical care, severe neglect and abuse.

Diagnosis

Anthony did go to the doctor today, finally.

Walking pneumonia.

Oy.

How does one push a rope?

Anthony's been at university for five weeks, and sick for four of them. But will he go to the infirmary?

No. Of course not. Don't be silly.

ARGH.

Despite leaving him with a pretty well-stocked first aid kit, and sending him some OTC cough medicine, he still has the crud. But won't go to the infirmary.

Dormitories are high-risk for swine flu, and thankfully there are no reported cases yet (and an emergency plan already in place), so I'm trying not to hit the panic button.

We're going to visit him this coming weekend; if I don't like what I see... You know what I'll do.

2009 GN results... sorta

My e-mail is down, haven't had access since Thursday. Maybe will get it fixed tomorrow...

Here's the reader's digest version of results from the Grand National weekend:

Friday - Region 3 Invitational
Open - Gin (only one entered) - had a very nice course in Prelims, the lure op did an outstanding job. Then she got caught in the line in the middle of Finals, came up lame, and I pulled her. Excused.

FCh - 1st Challenger, 2nd Py. Charger came up lame after Prelims, Challenger didn't look good after Finals.

Rough day for borzoi.

Saturday
I spent the day running scores from the judges to the scorekeeper, so actually have no idea how the results went. I was EXHAUSTED from all the back and forth, *man* I need to get in shape before OFC season. But the judges were great sharing perspectives on how to score, which dog got scored how and why... very interesting. Must do this job again sometime soon.

Sunday
Open
1st & BOB - Emmy
2nd - Gin (now has 99 pts!!)
3rd - Merlin
4th - Halis
NQ - Shadowcat

FCh
1st - Challenger
2nd - Spitzer
3rd- Kyra
4th - Phoebe
NBQ - Nitro
Field: Charger, Dagny, Py

Vet
1st - Belle Starr

Py and Dagny were tied for 1st after Prelims, but Py got a cactus spine jammed up his nailbed and I didn't get it out cleanly. He took a few bad steps so I, very reluctantly, pulled him from Finals. FCh stake had a run-off for 3-4-NBQ, Nitro was lame and was pulled from the run-off. Then Emmy beat Challenger in the run-off for BOB.

Grand National
It is a thrill to report that Joan's scottish deerhound Wist won the GN!!! Sorry I wasn't there to see it, by all reports it was an incredible run.

Thoughts on coursing and hunting

Thoughtful and interesting articles from across the pond:

Clarissa Dickson Wright reveals the cruel side of the animal rights brigade

Two Fat Ladies chef Clarissa Dickson-Wright admits attending hare coursing event at private prosecution

Tea for Two

No empty nest here, we're at capacity with beasts and dust bunnies.

But I do notice a significant shift in grocery shopping, dirty dishes, and laundry. Now that Anthony is off to university, it's back to "just us" two humans. Rick is home for dinner only during the week, and washes his own work clothes (because I fold his shirts wrong, who knew that was a good thing 20 years ago?). Without Anthony's school and gym clothes, I am hard pressed to make a full load of whites. And here in the desert, we do not run a washer that isn't stuffed to the max.

Shopping and cooking for two requires some adjustment on my part. Without Anthony's bottomless pit of an appetite, I buy the small bunch of bananas, very few apples, no grapes, fewer bagels... no more two-plus pound packages of every kind of fish each week.

Why this wasn't particularly noticeable last summer (he was in China for most of 2 months) I couldn't say; best guess - now it's permanent. I'm guessing shopping when he's here at Christmas is going to be a shock.

Updates, they are a'comin'

Have 2 weeks of catchup to do, must get all this stuff out of my head and through my fingers.

And yes, I'll be editing, back-dating, and rearranging. So it goes.

Countdown...

We're leaving in 24 hours. Ready or not.

Our departure to take Anthony to university is Tuesday morning, and he's not remotely ready. I know the kid is prone to procrastination, but even I think this is getting ridiculous.

Books are... everywhere. Clothing in great piles... everywhere. (It's a miracle they are folded.)

The big roof duffel for the car... empty.

His room... unspeakable.

And if his damn cell phone doesn't quit ringing - classmates in similar states of excitement and stress - I'm tossing it onto the roof of the barn. It will take a miracle to get us out of here on time tomorrow - which we must do as we are caravan-ing with another classmate all the way to Indiana.

His plan for today? Sleeping as late as possible, a shower, then headed to town to run some errands.

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

$721.10 / month

That number is our monthly savings on automobile insurance once Anthony is officially away at university. Mercy.

And we had every discount imaginable - good student, defensive driving course, non-smoking household, multi-car discount, ranch bundle, etc etc. Ouch.

It's a good thing he pulls his weight in chores around here, between insurance and groceries he is an expensive resident.

Makes the horse look cheap by comparison!

Hot damn

Electric fence - around here it's called "hot wire."

It's installed, it's working, I'm pleased as punch. Anthony helped me put in a bunch of extra t-posts (he got blisters, I wore gloves) and site the hole in the barn wall for the power cord, but I did it all myself. Now, I hope, Bugg will quit trashing the hundreds of dollars of field fence in search of - quite literally - green pasture.

And yes, I tested it on myself. Ouch.

Second spring?

Don't be fooled by delusions of greenery and blooms - these pictures were all taken in the past week, right here at 7,000' elevation in the desert.

We've had an extraordinary summer... long and cool spring, wet summer, three weeks of scorching heat, and now the cool nights of fall tempered by late summer thunderstorms. We're having second bloomings of...

Indian Paintbrush (note the tall green grass!):

Soaptree Yucca (with cholla and juniper in the background):

and assorted purple and white flowers:



Yellow flowers are typical of late summer and fall:

These "common sunflowers" routinely exceed 5' in height. Ditches are a popular location due to the accumulation of runoff water:

Predators and Prey

Catching up on pictures from the last 10 days or so... forgive the quality, most were taken right at dawn and with a zoom.

Some predators elicit a helluva response from my borzoi. Thank doG for prong collars... this fellow looked right at us, lifted a leg, and trotted off:

This is a very lucky shot - just one push of the shutter as it left a pole, and this is what I got. Pretty sure it's a red-tailed hawk:

My hounds as well as the predators above are all interested in meeting this fellow, Mr. Jack:
The New Mexico black-tailed jackrabbit (technically a HARE) is wicked-fast and unbelievably agile. It is a thrill to watch them in their home range.

NM Architecture

We may be low-ranked when it comes to national poverty, but there's no shortage of picturesque buildings from any state road. The following can be found along a single 3-mile stretch of a nearby county road.

Adobe is still a typical construction material:
Wood frame and siding became common in the last century:

As did stucco exteriors:

Of the three materials, adobe really does seem to last the longest:

And, lest you come away with the impression that we only have abandoned homesteads, rest assured that rusted-out hulks are commonplace, too:

He's back

Anthony returned from Taiwan last night; his flight from LAX was delayed and we arrived back at our ranchero minutes before midnight.

It rained on the way home; Anthony rolled down the car window, stuck out his head, and inhaled deeply. "I missed that smell," he intoned. Through the canyon and up the hill, he remarked that he hadn't seen any stars since he'd left.

Imagine. Millions upon millions of people who can't see the stars. That makes me feel sad.

I have a bunch of pictures from the last 10 days or so that need to go up, but not right now. It's trash day then off to the vet and then grocery shopping...

Good week so far

At the risk of jinxing it...

Sunday - Hubby and I went to a BBQ for families of incoming freshman for college. We even though Anthony is in Taiwan, and had a lovely time. People were great, kids were polite, the games of volleyball was quite competitive. An excellent day.

Monday - All my kids at the jail passed their CGC tests! 100% pass rate, first attempt for each, I'm very proud of them. The past couple of months I have been working inside the maximum security facility, a population I haven't worked with before. All are felony-level offenders, now learning all-positive dog training methods. And they're doing great.

Monday night we got a brutal thunderstorm, a free-standing pot outside had over 3" of rain in it Tuesday morning. But the storm finally broke the back of the heat we've been having.

Tuesday - Got a nice e-mail update from Anthony on his far eastern adventures, here's an excerpt:

i think the last thing i mentioned was the barbeque this past weekend. well, turns out it wasn't actually a barbeque (at least not in the usual sense of the word); rather, it was more of a picnic. only, it wasn't just albert, his mom, aunt, uncle, and me--as i discovered once we got there, we were tagging along with a group of people who were doing this as part of their preparation for climbing the tallest mountain in taiwan. oh, i guess i forgot to mention: we were hiking up to a waterfall, where we would then make lunch. which meant two things: first, we were going to have to carry all of the food we were going to make; second, that i would be carrying a disproportionate amount of stuff. so, after assuming my role as pack mule, we hiked for roughly 45 minutes through tropical rainforest. that is to say, take the usual heat and humidity one finds in taiwan, and then make it about ten times stuffier--absolutely no hope of a cooling breeze. at least it looked really pretty?

anyway, we eventually got there (i want to emphasize the word "eventually" because it took about twice as long to get there as it should have. guess i'm spoiled hiking with New Mexico family) and it turned out to be well worth the trek. granted, it was kinda like the waterfall in canada we went to in that there were lots of people on slippery rocks where they probably shouldn't have been (i think it was sunshine falls or something like that?) but the waterfall itself was incredible. just waves of cool water cascading down that dropped the temperature about 15 degrees and created a nice cool breeze. made me wish i had a camera :-/ regardless, we spent about 2 hours just hanging out there, eating and relaxing, before we hiked back to the parking lot, where we sat around for another half hour or so drinking tea and talking. oh, which reminds me. remember that last email i sent you where i was complaining about taiwanese and how it makes my brain hurt? well, these people spoke in taiwanese at least 50% of the time, which meant i usually had no idea what was going on. fortunately, when they were talking to directly to me, they just used mandarin.

Tuesday afternoon I took my car into the shop; it had been running very poorly at low RPM's. They had it all fixed for just a few hundred dollars, so now I'm set for my trip to Colorado in 10 days. And finally overnight it was in the mid-50's - now THAT's what it's supposed to be!

Wednesday - Had a new client whose Jack Russell Terriers are from an ethical breeder and gave my first 20% discount. The client was happy and the dogs were lovely - just what I would expect.

Tomorrow is Thursday, I'm spending the day with my Dad. Friday has a morning appointment, and Saturday we're all off to see the new Harry Potter movie.

Barring a catastrophe, this entire week is turning out to be a great one.

Wild Side

Out the car window during morning roadwork...

Today we went 9 miles, my beasts are rock-hard and rarin' for more.

Crows and ravens are everywhere, and they are HUGE.

FINALLY I spotted a rabbit before the dogs did; this Eastern Cottontail (note distinctive eye ring) hit the deck and froze.

I'm crazy about this guy - and he's crazy about eating cholla. Ouch!


These two are new on our route; if they don't gain weight over the next week I'll be making a phone call:



And finally, an experiment with the camera and this blog: a video. Not very exciting stuff I suspect, but I'm trying to figure out how this works. And this bull is just magnificent.

Wings

Time flies.

Seems like just yesterday we moved back to New Mexico and Anthony started middle school - it was actually 2003. And in reality, yesterday he flew to Taiwan for 3 weeks... a little graduation vacation and opportunity to beef up his language skills (he has a placement test in 5 weeks). His plane landed about an hour ago, so I know he's there safe and sound.

I was asked by a relative if I didn't worry about him being a stupid teenager on the other side of the globe. Sure, of course. But if he doesn't know how to make good decisions by now, there's really not a lot I can do to help him regardless of geography. I'd never admit this to his face, but it's his life and he's a grown up.

Just wish he'd clean his room...

Dog Days of Summer

We're coping with the hottest couple of weeks of the summer; days like this I do begin to wish we had a swamp cooler on the house.

Our routine is pretty dull: up at 5:30 a.m. to roadwork a couple of dogs, laundry, watch le tour, a siesta during the worst of the afternoon heat, and preparing an evening meal that doesn't require a stove or oven.

Speaking of laundry, over birthday cake the other night we had a long and lively discussion of various clothesline configurations. Amazing the creativity of my relatives with something so essential. Among the tips: turn colored items inside out so they don't fade; bang jeans and towels in the dryer on "fluff" cycle to take the hardness out of them; topsheets get a crisp centerline if hung with that objective in mind; using the winter sun to enable year-round use; various center-support options. I envy those with south-side portals; retractable wheels were very popular.

And speaking of roadwork, more wildlife for you. Driving along at 8 MPH makes for great viewing.

Mourning Dove

Turkey Vulture

no idea

Red-tailed Hawk

This young mule deer buck was a joy to behold.


This elk had been poached and dumped; despite calls to NM Game & Fish the carcass has been rotting for the better part of two weeks. I can not begin to describe the stench.

No pictures of roadrunners, cottontails or jackrabbits - the dogs go bonkers when one is sighted and I can't manage a camera at the same time. The jacks are in peak breeding season... hope they are making lots of babies.

Believe it or not

This is my very sweet and very white pony:

She loves mud as much as I hate it. I suspect her expression reflects her perspective of how much grooming will be involved to restore her to a presentable state.

Guess what expression is on MY face.

Google is a mother's best friend

Anthony's roommate and dorm assignment arrived via e-mail last night. So naturally, I checked the new roommate out.

Gotta say, while I treasure my privacy, it satisfies my maternal paranoia to be able to read up on Anthony's roommate in advance. As an only child, the only roomate he's ever had is Jake, his 8 year old border collie. This will be a big change, in a lot of ways.

Jesse's Facebook and MySpace pages are public, so I know a lot more about him than he may realize. I learned that he is from a small town in northern Illinois, got a 35 on his ACT, GPA of 4.71, and was his class valedictorian. Um, wow. And he has eclectic taste in music. Several pictures from his high school paper show a lanky kid with messy hair and an easy smile. Sounds good so far.

I have to wonder if Jesse's parents have googled my kid...

Cesar Millan

I was wrong: he's not dangerous - he's a criminal.

Hear me now, this is evil footage. Pay attention to the first 5 seconds - what the dog does to provoke the kick from Millan is subtle. And absolutely, the dog's reaction to the kick is extreme - we can only speculate as to the reasons. But it pales in comparison to the deliberate cruelty Millan then inflicts on the dog.

Strangling a dog until it is unconscious is right out of Koehler (don't buy the soft-pedaled approach of the website; get the book from the library and read the recommendations on when to "hang" a dog). And the rationalizations Millan gives afterward are so misinformed it would be laughable if it weren't so damn stupid.

Even the description "like a wolf" hammers home Millan's incompetence. Anybody the least bit familiar with the research coming out of Wolf Park knows what a steaming pile of BS that phrase is.

I'm going to go throw up now.

The last straw

OK, fair warning: I'm on a bender. Either settle in or move on now...

There are lots of businesses that offer discounts to dogs "adopted" from shelters or all-breed rescue organizations, no doubt to encourage people with typically older dogs to get a veterinarian's exam or some training or whatever product is on offer. (I say "adopted" because money changes hands; it's a purchase and let's be honest about that.) I'm a libertarian, a big fan of the free market; this is a capitalist society and there's no upside to being coy about cash. All of which is by way of saying: businesses can charge whatever the market will bear, and offer discounts as they please.

Here's my problem: Discounts available only to people that purchase dogs from a shelter or rescue organization is a reward for that purchase - and that reward drives demand, and demand drives supply. And the suppliers to shelters are not the ethical breeders of this world.

What set me off on this particular rant was the explicit message recently delivered to my face by a local rescue person, that - quote - rescued** dogs are better.

I was rendered temporarily speechless; when I recovered my senses I asked: Can you define "better"? And, what's the data source you're referring to?

It was her turn to sputter. Something about fewer health problems (which is bunk - even Hutchinson has reported higher hypothyroidism rates in mutts). I pointed out that the dogs I've gotten from responsible breeders come from parents with health testing, and a lifetime of support and information is just a phone call away. She had no counter. As she walked away I overheard her mutter to her friend that I was "that woman" with all the big dogs. WTF???

"All"? What quantity is that? And I suppose that there's a presumption that some arbitrary quantity automatically results in compromised quality of life. One dog in the wrong hands can be abused and neglected. A hundred in the right hands can be healthy and pampered. Numbers and size aren't the issue, and never will be.

It's about judging others by our own narrow definition of "right." And I resent the hell out of it.

If you want a random-bred dog with no health or behavioral history and no lifetime of support, then by all means go ahead and buy one. While doing so, remember that you are providing the market for the irresponsible and/or greedy bastards that produce them - which makes you part of the problem and not the solution. You may feel good for "saving" a life, and it's probably true. But it's also true that it's a free market, and how you spend your money rewards the behavior of the people who get your money.

So what behavior are you trying to reward? Ethical? Responsible? Or something else.

What am I going to do about it? Simple; put my money where my mouth is:

Starting now, I offer a discount to new clients that purchased their dog from an ethical breeder. All I need to see is a copy of their breeder's contract, stating they require the return of the dog at any time if the buyer can't or won't keep it, and the client will get 20% off.

Does that mean I'll never again own a shelter dog? History predicts that I will... and I recognize the additional burden that comes with that choice.

**Clarification: I'm not referring to breed-specific rescue organizations, or parent-club affiliated breed rescue. This particular person is part of a local all-dog rescue that tends toward random & cross bred dogs.

Duh

The Terrierman does it again, better than I could. Read it for yourself.

On the road again

Not traveling; road work.

Today was day-two for Tigress to have a little roadwork. Yesterday I took Py out with her, this morning Gin got her crack at it. Gin is 20 months old, she took to roadwork like a trotter to the track.

Yesterday I was sorry I didn't have a camera with me, as there were some lovely little birds flitting from fencepost to fencepost and an assortment of summer flowers in bloom. Today I took the camera but it's much cooler (mid 50's) and overcast, so no birds.

But here are some flowers for your viewing pleasure:

When I was little, we called this a "zuni squash". It's correct name will be added later (I can not find it in my book to save my life) but the amazing thing about them is that the edible part is the flowers.
Gorgeous jewelry pieces are named in honor of this flower.


These enormous plants spread 20' or more along the ground; I've seen them climbing fences and choking cholla plants.

Here's the fruit part:

Note how it forms between the base of the flower and the stem, allowing the removal (and consumption) of the flower without damaging the gourd. MMMMMMMMM, delicious.

Speaking of cholla... they are now blooming at our elevation. Anywhere up to 7' or taller, sometimes an entire field of these - acres and acres - bloom simultaneously. Spectacular.



And here are some other little flowers: sadly I don't know what any of them are, but they do dress up the ditches on the side of the road:


And finally, even though it is off-topic, last night's sunset was so spectacular I must share:


This view is why I will never live anywhere else.