Ch-ch-ch-changes

So we are experiencing an "extended stretch of ugly weather" as the Sunday paper's weather forecast put it. It's raining now, has been raining and looks like it will rain forever, world without end, amen.  Unless that Rapture thing happens.  J and I were talking about that and I said I think 'they' (the Rapture-ites) are going to be very disappointed- or the rest of us are going to be very surprised. J voted for the disappointment having the better chance of happening.

In other depressing news, Boomer is a dog without a pack, and he's not happy about it. Ameranth has been in MA since Thursday, dogsitting, and Boomer has been an only dog, oh what a lonely boy. I thought he might be happy without another dog to share our attention, but no. He wants more, more, more. The rainy weather has made walks shorter and less frequent as well. The first day I brought him to the pasture, he ran to the water, then looked around, a little lost. It's not as much fun running when you don't have someone to chase.

You probably can't tell but in that second picture, he is shaking himself as he runs and there is a mist of water surrounding him. He likes to sideswipe me and soak my pants leg as his next step, leading to a circling dance of avoidance. 

Behind him is a willow tree that we transplanted soon after we moved here. It was an offshoot of a tree that my parents had in their yard, planted when I was small. I remember my great-grandfather helping, and that the hole seemed huge when I got to stand in it. Maybe that's a false memory, but I like it. I like the connection between generations that I see when I look at the willow now. 

I got this wisteria from my mother as well- the wisteria from hell- It has never bloomed in over 20 years, and has tried to take over the nearby spruce trees. Last year we cut it down- we thought- but it refuses to yield.  I spotted this new growth and I guess we have to make the effort to uproot it soon.

We also need to tackle the new sumac popping up in the white violets. This is back where our extended chicken yard will go.

We've had some changes recently, some good like finally getting that bedroom finished and some sad like losing Rosie. But the biggest change to come will be later this week, when Ameranth and Anna take off on their next adventure. 

Since their trip last year hiking the Erie Canal in New York from Albany to Buffalo went well, she has decided to go forward with her big trip- walking cross country. Ameranth has spent the last year working and living here to save money for this. I'm driving her down to R.I. to visit with family, then to CT where a cousin has very kindly offered her a lift to MD, where she will start her walk westward.

She will be loosely following the American Discovery Trail. Despite her love of symmetry (or, a leetle touch of OCD) she decided that she doesn't have to start at the trailhead in Delaware, which would have her walking through several large cities. I believe the plan is to dip their toes in the Atlantic Ocean (via the Narragansett Bay) and hope to do the same ultimately in the Pacific. Common sense dictated the decision to not walk across the Rockies and bear country, so Yay for that! As of now, the goal is getting to Shoeshine in Boulder, CO and making further decisions then.

I've been asked why I am supporting her in this. First of all, Ameranth is an adult and has been planning this for several years now. I gave up pointing out reasons not to do it, and confine myself to pointing out what I think are sensible ways to stay safe and making sure she has what she needs- or what I think she needs. Secondly, it is a pretty cool idea and I think she's going to have quite an adventure. She's footloose and fancy-free right now and knows the opportunity might never come again. She wants to do this before "settling down and being a grownup for real". 

 

The house may be less cluttered, and may be a little quieter, but we'll miss having her here. Her, and her little dog too.

A Trike and a Tick

The trike is good. 

 

We grabbed this at the employee store on our trip to Freeport yesterday. Yes, it's much too big for a one year old, and yes, she lives in Minnesota but, hell yes, it was a great bargain! How could we pass it up? We'll figure something out. J thinks it's so cool that it even has Ladyslipper's initial on it, and he ignored Ameranth when she told him it probably stood for Schwinn.

The ticks are bad.

Don't worry- I do not have a photo of the tick I found on my leg last night! This is the worst year for ticks since we moved here in 1987. (Well, worst for us, a banner year for the ticks themselves) We rarely found a tick on our first dog, Lizzie, but it seems Boomer is a tick magnet. I don't understand how they manage to jump aboard, since he rarely stands still, but they are evil little bugs. 

And I changed my mind. I am going to post this picture labeled "tick waiting for victim" (image taken from royalty free site all legal-like). They wait on grass blades and jump aboard as hosts pass by.

 

They have to be Super Tick to jump on Boomer as he flies by and to stay on him as he jumps in and out of the water.  Maybe that's their secret: Super powers. 

But they're not cool ones like this guy :(

Dogs

Since losing our wild child Rosie, we have changed our routine a bit. Besides trying to get out on the road walking to help Anna get into shape for her upcoming trip, we have been letting the two dogs loose in our back yard. Our back yard that is an 8 acre pasture and two ponds. 8 Acres that  has only electric fencing for the horses that visit in the summer.

It's been going pretty well. They zoom out of the gate and run down to check for ducks in the little puddle by the road, then run after them to the pond in the opposite corner. 

 This picture taken last fall, is of the seasonal pool in the middle that usually dries up completely in the summer. Right now it is filled with little tadpoles and growing grass that fools Boomer into thinking he can run across the far end. He chased Anna yesterday and it was like watching Wiley Coyote. Full tilt run from solid ground into a foot of water. I think he actually skimmed the surface for a second!

Anyway, the dogs have been surprisingly good, and we were pleased...until yesterday.  We called them back and Boomer showed up to be rubbed down and put in the back yard, but Anna disappeared, only to be seen running across the street to visit Snowball, the elderly lab next door. Snowball, the perfectly behaving dog that never leaves her yard. They had a brief sniff and visit and I brought Anna home.

Today we drove down to the library and took them for a walk from there, a brand-new experience for Boomer.  He usually runs right out to the car, so we had only Anna leashed as we left. Big mistake. He charged up to the two cats lounging out front and the scuffle resulted in 2 indignant cats escaping quickly, leaving Boomer with a mouthful of loose fur and a bleeding nose. Lesson learned? I hope so, but doubt it.

Since they were excited about the trip this morning we decided we would skip the pasture excursion today. Boomer goes out with me every morning to get the paper and is always very good. Out, pees on the way down the driveway, and back inside with me. Anna always sniffs him as he modestly comes back, trying not to rub his freedom in her face, but managing to convey his satisfaction with his solo outing.

Today he wanted to go out when I got the mail. I checked outside and no cats, so I let him out. Big mistake # 2. Down to the mailbox and halfway back was fine. Then I see him pause, prick up his ears and take off down the road. After an older gentleman with a baby in a stroller and a huge dog on a leash!  I think I may have mentioned Boomer's lack of social skills before- he snarls and charges up to any dog he meets, the bigger the better.  As I ran the hundred feet to retrieve him, I see him launch himself at the dog, who lunges to meet him, pulling the man sideways, tipping the stroller! Thank goodness his dog was well behaved (since mine isn't) and no one was hurt. He didn't have much to say, as I breathlessly apologized while trying to grab my obnoxious beast. Boomer knew I was annoyed and it took a minute for me to grab him. Then trying to lead him back while bending over to hold his collar, roughly a foot above the ground, was a treat. He twisted himself out of the collar but had the grace to accompany me home. He knew he was in disgrace and kept a low profile for the next hour or so.  Bad dog, bad bad dog.

Anna was on the chair in the living room watching out the front window and she gave me a look when I came in which was easy to read. "That's what you get for letting that little dip out, and not me."

Torsey Redux

J got home a little early today, and we took another ride out to camp, hoping to visit with # 5 and spouse. But they apparently are driving up after work tonight (for a weekend with sons and grandchildren) and camp was empty of relatives.

Boomer came with us, so J got a chance to witness his swimming prowess in person. The dock is in and Boomer soon got used to the movement and raced up and down between dips. We are on the end of the lake, and the water is very warm now. I pondered going in, although I hadn't brought a suit--Hold on! No skinny-dipping was done-no need to look away from the screen!

Boomer so wanted to jump in/walk on water- he was leaning forward with his claws hanging over the edge. I waited until he was on shore before going in, but he raced back to check it out.

Then back to land to swim out to meet me in shallow water.

I should point out that there are bloodsuckers in the muddy bottom here and I was trying not to touch down. Boomer felt I should be his personal dock, which caused a bit of splashing and franticness on his part.

Note the lovely mud he stirred up? No leeches were found however, and the humongous snapping turtle that lives there was nowhere to be seen so it was all good.

Normally I would not post pictures of me swimming etc, but without my glasses I can't see far, so no one can see me either. What? Ask any cat about that- if they don't look at you, you don't exist. Same deal.

Ha

Boomer just trotted past me and settled down in the living room. When I heard a faint crackling, I turned around and could see everything but the tip of his nose. I didn't say anything, but he looked at me and lifted his head to show me a stick-on bow. I went back to my computer and he went back to chewing.

Strange Bedfellows

 

Each looks a little PO'd about sharing, and having to be at the edge instead of the middle.  (I love my new camera- this was taken in the dark, because I didn't want to startle the subjects)

Obviously, that is Rosie's bed, but Sophie has taken to sleeping there during the day when the dogs are out, and I guess she decided not to move last night. They have a strange relationship.  If the dogs find Sophie in the kitchen or living room, they chase her. She runs to 'her' room (above) and sits down. Game over.  

Rosie has killed kittens in the past- not intentionally, but if it runs, she chases and when she catches them she tosses them in the air. These were kittens that slept with her inside. Her prey drive is very strong and we haven't been able to overcome that.  However, Sophie is about 10 years old, so was in place when Rosie came. She allows the chasing, but not any catching. Boomer has yet to grasp the finer points of the game, and tries to grab her, which Sophie strongly discourages. 

Sophie is getting on in years and her standards are dropping. J fed her last week and when he went by a little later, Sophie was sleeping and a mouse was finishing off her dry food. When we had barn cats, we rarely saw a whole mouse, just various body parts.  Sophie is our only (and last) cat now and doesn't make it upstairs anymore- not like that would make a difference apparently!- and when I went up to get a sleeping bag, I found signs (ugh) of mice all over. 

J hastened up with his poison bait and I went off on my trip. Sunday, I started to smell a musty odor at my computer- nowhere else. Directly in back of me are four deep built-in drawers, filled with sheets and tablecloths. The odor was unfortunately familiar, since several years ago we found a dead and decomposing mouse in there. I gingerly started checking all of the sheets for bodies, startling myself when I found a metal handle that for a second looked like a flattened rodent. Nothing found in the drawers, so I removed the bottom one and voila! A fat little body was removed to the garbage can and air freshener liberally applied. I hope all of the others have the decency to crawl outside to die. 

We went out for fresh air today and I was able to catch Rosie after she was off leash, so it was a good walk.

 

  

Mr Crazy picks up chicks

Not that kind of chicks! We got our annual hen replacements yesterday. Friends buy baby chicks every year, and when they start laying, we get their 'old' ones. Sadly, we usually have room for them, thanks to days like this.

Last year we just put them in the back of J's truck, with the soft cover on, which worked out fine.  W caught them, handed off to J, and I was in charge of cover control. One crafty hen was eyeing the daylight whenever I peeled the corner back for another entry. She made a break for it and missed her chance to come live with us. J had one tucked under his arm backwards, and all I saw coming at me was a soft round molting butt. Think "pink cantaloupe with five-o-clock stubble"

We were down to one lonely hen(due to a mistake which I won't go into here) who was spending her time lurking around our front step, crooning whenever she saw us, or hanging out at the fence with the dogs. Seeming so needy, we thought she would love having new friends. Not so much. We couldn't back the truck right up to the door this year, because of the new shed, so had to grope blindly under the cover and grab one at a time. I got a handful of that naked rump at one point. Eww.

The home team rep decided to attack each visitor as it came through the door, until she was outnumbered 7 to 1, and the group moved outside. Later, we brought  some bread and grapes out and saw our hen backed up into a corner and the rest milling about at the other end of the hen yard. Aw, poor little hen, left out of the clique.  Tossed the goodies in and the hostess began clucking, saying, "mmm, mmm, this is so good, look what I found, come on, come on" as hens do.  When the other ladies joined her, she attacked them all, cackling wildly. Lost our sympathy vote right there.
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Trying to get out of the laundry room, without tripping over Boomer-
J-   "You know, you'd be a good backup dog"
Me-"You mean, in case something happened to a #1 dog?"
J-  "no, he walks backwards - you know, he could learn tricks and stuff"

Yes, really

If you saw my last post, you know Boomer had ripped open the cushion on my porch glider and started on the foam layer underneath.  I cleaned it up and thoughtfully left the flat foam under the old slipcover for the doggy comfort. (I would like to make plain that the dirty slipcover was for the dogs, so that the cushions below stayed clean for human use. Sadly, the cushions are no more)


Now, I would like to say Boomer is a slow learner and that I was too optimistic thinking he had all the fun possible already and would appreciate the cover over the springs. But, maybe I am as slow as he is?

This is what we found tonight after it got suspiciously quiet outside:

Boomer tried to look dignified as we got the camera, laughing unmercifully. We got him out and he went off to bed in his crate.

Everything gets cleaned up tomorrow. Unless it rains.

Really?

This is what you get when you don't remove a cushion after noticing a little nibble and a few pieces of foam.

It looks like those pictures of a shark-bitten surfboard. Boomer's mouth is not that large, but he does get ferocious with foam attacks.

Sigh.  I did pay just .50 for the slipcover and I can pick up the foam for reuse, but damn, I wish I had taken the cushions in earlier!   And that he would stop with the gnawing.

The best part of waking up- wait, there's a good part?

Shoeshine is in RI, and Ameranth went back to MA last night, so today should be back to normal.  Besides the company, this week has been wacky, because J had to work last Sunday, which made this a 6 days-in-a-row week. So I have been a day ahead of reality all week.

But weekend mornings are a pain anyway. Everyone's schedule is off, including the dogs. Work days, they get out to pee if necessary at 4 when J gets up, then they wake me about 7 and get put outside until I get up @ 9.  (when Rosie urgently wants to come in for her morning nap on the couch)

But Rosie wakes me up early because J can't hear her rattling our doorknob, which she does instead of barking or whining. Hit the knob with her nose, rattle, rattle. Wait 30 seconds, rattle rattle. (Boomer sleeps in his crate and just whines a little while he waits for Rosie to secure his release) So, I let them out, and go back to bed. Another hour of sleep and the barking begins. Rosie must have something Boomer wants and he's complaining. We both ignore them, and try to get more sleep.

Except J nudges me every time I snore breath too loudly, until he gets me so I wake myself up to stop me! He does not wake up when I return the favor. After that the only part of me that goes to sleep is my right arm, repeatedly.  I get a little more snooze time after J arises, but then I feel guilty about it because he's waiting to get going on our weekend chores. A little guilty. But, I deal with that.

I certainly love and appreciate J (and the dogs) and would not want to be without them (well, maybe the dogs, sometimes) but I must say weekday mornings are less stress, and all about me!

Eliza or Dr?

All I want are dogs I can walk,
and dogs that listen when I talk.
Two obedient dogs,
Oh, wouldn't it be loverly?


Who fetch a ball, then give it back,
Who don't think kittens are their snacks,
Don't barf in my van back.
Oh, wouldn't it be loverly?