Early Morning Fog

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One cold, foggy morning at the beginning of the month, when feeling steadier than usual, I couldn't resist picking up the 50D to see if I could capture the feeling of the scene outside my window. I can't imagine ever becoming blasé about the view of the southernmost ridges surrounding our valley and the Tehachapi Mountains beyond.

Outside—Peeking Through the Window

Please trust me. This post is not a plea for pity and a pathetic hint for get well wishes. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Those wishes have been appreciated for their warmth and concern, but there are so many messages that I would rather receive. I would much rather participate in conversations about things that are interesting. However, nothing I am doing is remotely interesting. Indeed, since my life is mostly about not doing, this post is nothing more than one of my lame efforts to stay in touch.

With the above disclaimer in mind, I am here to tell you that if you are going to get the flu, don’t even consider taking on that challenge four weeks after major surgery. Whoa! Talk about getting your rear end kicked. It hasn’t been a pretty picture. (More about pictures later.) Had I saved all the used tissues (What a nauseating thought!), I would have a pile some where near the size of one of those ill-fated cruise ships we have been seeing in the news lately.

As far as doing anything interesting is concerned, lifting a cup of coffee has been a chore on many days. Therefore, you get the idea how much imagination it takes for me to picture myself hoisting up a camera. Then, there’s the issue of holding that camera steady. Riiiight! At any rate, I have managed to take a handful of photos over the last few weeks, only to be frustrated by my inability to sit at the computer long enough to process and post an image. There has been little joy in Mudville. (Joy is not to be confused with gratitude. Tons of gratitude here, because setting aside the effects of the flu-from-Hell, I am getting better. My surgery appears to have been successful, and for that I am deeply grateful.

The flu is temporary. Thank goodness. Meanwhile, I remain on the outside, peeking through the window of the World Wide Web, watching everyone else in the blogging world go about their lives. I watch almost daily. I ooh, aah, nod, puzzle, contemplate, admire, marvel, commiserate, and celebrate, as I drink in the experiences conveyed through the work posted by others. I alternate between being inspired by the work then intimidated by same. Soon enough, my turn to participate will come.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Have a wonderful day, everyone.

Headed in the Right Direction

Finally, I am headed in the right direction and that is news for which I am grateful. Because this recovering from surgery is a slow process, I am learning more lessons in patience. Furthermore, I am learning a great deal about moving slowly, as well as purposefully. Gee, I have a long list of rules to follow. There are rules for everything. Sitting, standing, walking, even brushing my teeth! The limitations are too many to count and all those limitations contribute to days that are indescribably boring.

In spite of the boredom, however, my spirits are quite high. The pain I feel now is different and being able to walk more is quite the treat. For several weeks, I could hardly walk at all and now I walk back and forth to the main living area multiple times each day. It is a big deal to me.

I fill parts of each day daydreaming about all the things I will do when the biggest chunk of the recovery is behind me. Hey, it’s free, and I can do it without breaking any of the rules.

Because sitting is not something I get to do a great deal of, my posts here will be infrequent and brief. I look forward to getting back into the blogging world. I have been away far to long.

Hope to be more active soon.

Miss You

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Recently, I received a sweet note from a fellow blogger saying “miss you” and wondering if the puppy had me “cornered”. This post is partly to say I have missed all of you and, frankly, I am missing me. This puppy-raising experience has been quite an education. But. my friend was closer to the truth than he may have suspected. I have been cornered, in a sense.

To begin with, the challenge has reminded me why I retired from a career that I truly loved—have I mentioned lately that I still miss teaching all those fascinating actors? My days are getting pathetically short. I simply can’t go the way I could even five years ago. Of course I could take a number of shortcuts with bringing up this pup; but that isn’t in my nature. I don’t want to miss a moment of his puppiness—maddening as it occasionally may be. Moreover, I want to give him every possibility at growing into a confident, happy, and well-behaved dog.

Not surprisingly, I am also confronting, for the umpteenth time, my obsession with learning. Do you have any idea how much information is available on the new techniques for training animals? Let me tell you it will keep you busy accessing even a smattering of it. Thanks to another world wide web friend, I was encouraged, early on, to pursue the new techniques and I have the stack of books to prove it. Each tome is stuffed with post it notes marking the most delicious tidbits of information, and the stack of books continues to grow. I can’t seem to stop myself.

The upshot of what I get from my crash course is that the old “yank and crank” methods (as one of the authors puts it) have been left in the dust and positive reinforcement, shaping, luring, marking (No! not that kind of marking! Pay attention, now!), and rewards are the new currency.

Since the new philosophy squares perfectly with the approach I used in teaching for several decades, I have plunged headlong into this without reservation. My enthusiasm has resulted in the contribution of a small fortune to Amazon. Furthermore, I have belatedly discovered YouTube. Before Galen came into our lives, I could have listed the YouTube videos I had viewed on my fingers—perhaps a toe or two. Now, you will find me, at least once a day, soaking up tips from training videos produced by people who work wonders with their canine companions. What pleasure I have gotten from immersing myself in a world I had never visited. And, I haven’t even gotten into the dog agility thing. That’s a small universe of its own.

So, now you know why I have been such a slug when it comes to visiting and posting. I have been all about preparing and shopping for treats (rewards), studying, and testing theories in my very own little puppy-training laboratory. All this besides the fact that I have to take Galen out what seems like 120 times a day. Each visit to the yard requires constant supervision, since he would make a tasty morsel for the coyotes that roam our area. I have days when I wonder why I’m doing it all when it’s so challenging and days when I’m exhausted by sunset (getting up and down off the floor is a lot harder than it used to be). Still, I haven’t played so hard and laughed so much since I was five! Dogs really are gifts from God.

Caution: Training in Progress

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The offspring of Brangay's Quick Draw finally has a name. Well, this name has stuck for a few day, but I confess that every other day one of us comes up with at least one, “We should have named him ….” The answer came while scanning a list of Gaelic names—his ancestors are Scottish, after all. I came upon Galen and it had a nice sound to it. When I tried it on the husband, he didn’t sniff and wrinkle his nose—yes, that happened with a couple of my submissions. Instead, he cocked his head to one side, narrowed his eyes, rolled the name around on his tongue a couple of times, then finally pronounced it a fine name, indeed. When I tried it on the puppy, I got a somewhat similar response. Well, the cocked head, at least. So, for the moment, Galen it is.

Our training is proceeding quite satisfactorily. Without fail, I throw on jeans and shoes to get puppy out to the back yard for a brief walk between 6 and 7 AM, prepare his breakfast, gulp down some water while a cup of coffee heats in the microwave, and check to be certain that there are treats for the big walk that will follow puppy’s breakfast. After Galen’s private business has been attended to, the longer walk includes hitting all the important checkpoints along the edge of the yard where we check to be certain no marauding invaders approach the castle. If I should become distracted at any of the checkpoints, Galen sits, patiently reminding me that castle-guarding Shelties don’t come cheap. While he indulges me, I dig in the treasury of goodies for a treat, and after the brave knight has been lavished with praise and the treat has been consumed, we happily make our way to the next checkpoint. I am happy to report that my concentration is improving, and I am getting better at instantly catching the desired behavior. After all, that’s what I am being trained to do.

When all the work and recreational period that follows has been completed, we return and the help is allowed to eat. (The help would be me, of course.) After breakfast, I prepare more puppy treats including cooking more chicken if necessary, then slice yummy chicken into pea-sized bits and tempting cheese into similar sized bits. By the time I finish all my kitchen chores and get properly dressed, it is usually time for another walk.

Fortunately, Galen is also being trained. He got the “sit” command down in nothing flat. “Piece of cake” he seemed to beam. Of course, I admit that occasionally, when stumped, he sits because he’s pretty darned sure that putting his fanny on the ground makes us happy; but, for the most part, he is getting his cues straight. “Down” as in put the belly on the ground, was more challenging. For both of us. He didn’t get it at first and getting lower to the ground to cue him did my back no good at all. Now, I don’t have to get as close to the ground and I certainly look forward to reaching the stage where I can give the signal from a full standing position. “Watch me” is coming along nicely. Yes, I freely admit that, at this stage, the pup has his eye on the treat next to my eye, but we are getting there.

The biggest advance in my education is successfully coping when Galen gets totally nuts and believe me this dog adds new dimensions to the adjectives “excited” and “stubborn”. I have learned that turning my back and becoming totally bored with the ball of furry resistance on the other end of the leash produces calm. In the beginning he would occasionally plant that cute little fanny on the grass giving me the “Make me follow" look or throw himself against the end of the leash in a dramatic tantrum. I learned to stop, show him my back, and take time to admire the clouds, trees in the distance, or the tall grass waving in the breeze. Soon, a nose would touch the back of my leg and a somewhat contrite Galen, would look up as though to suggest politely that if I might be interested in a walk, he would be most happy to follow. There is little if any resistance now and those result in the briefest of pauses. On those occasions, the moment the furry creature has come around, off we go for more of our duties and just plain fun.

Old Lessons Re-learned from a Puppy

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Some old lessons are repeated throughout our lives. I marvel that I continue learning the old ones over and over and again. Almost never new lessons—merely new variations on the same old truths. I suppose it makes sense that after one reaches a certain age this is the case. You have learned the essential rules by which life works. You just keep hoping to get a different result and maybe skirt the rules every so often.

One rule I see popping up repeatedly in my life is often stated in this homely way: “There is no such thing as a free lunch.” Great wisdom is often wrapped in such simple old aphorisms, isn’t it? Everything that we desire has a price and life is about making our way through thousands of choices each day. A great percentage of those choices come down to what price we are willing to pay for the comfort, joy, or whatever that we desire.

No question those choices and trade-offs apply to individuals, groups, even nations. On a daily basis, we decide, as individuals or groups, what we want and the price we are willing to pay. We get one thing and give up another. Sometimes it seems like a lose-lose proposition, but we make the choices anyway and blindly hope it will all work out for the best. Worst of all, we frequently ignore the old lesson and embrace a choice without considering the consequences. We simply grab what we want, then recoil in astonishment when the bill comes due. Sometimes we even rail and rant that the price isn’t fair. Most often the price is a shock simply because we made our choice without investigating the cost. We expected “a free lunch”.

Adding a puppy to our house is a small and, in the big picture, inconsequential example of this old truism. We wanted, no, “craved” the love, companionship, joy, and just plain fun of having a dog again. We especially wanted to get a puppy, since The Husband and I have never raised a puppy together. The two dogs that we acquired after we joined our lives were rescues. They couldn’t have been better companions and lived long healthy lives making immeasurable contributions to our home. When the time came to get another dog, we assessed the cost of taking on a puppy and made our choice. A puppy it would be.

With a choice such as this one, there is no delayed first payment. No, “Pay the first installment next year, interest free for six months.” No, the bills begin arriving the day the puppy arrives and these aren’t bills that you can stall on. Payment is simply extracted. No questions asked, no excuses accepted, no exceptions made.

My aching back is one of the prices I am paying and certainly the one that has the most impact. All the bending that is involved in having a 10 week old puppy, is putting a major kink in my bad-to-begin-with back. Today, I am “limping” along on Tylenol and Stop Pain—my pain killers of choice.

On the other hand, love is a remarkable balm that soothes all wounds. Not for a moment would I trade the joy of this fur-ball of mystery and energy for less back pain. I just accomplish even less than usual these days. Certainly, “There is no free lunch” in this case, but I am mighty glad we made the choice. Our lives are richer, and I suspect that there are many familiar life-lessons we will re-learn thanks to a certain Shetland Sheepdog who now owns our hearts.

Ain't Love Grand?

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Naturally, I love all the fun suggestions for a name. Keep them coming, please. Day 3 and we continue to discuss and negotiate. He is still Puppy.

Whew. I am relieved to get pre-approval for more self-indulgent pictures of our canine version of the Energizer Bunny. The one above is no more than a poorly done snapshot. But, I ask you, "Would you rather play with this adorable creature, or be stuck behind a camera, or perhaps be staring at a computer monitor?" My answer is that I am typing with one finger because the creature is using my right arm as a pillow and taking a brief nap in my lap. Sigh. Ain't love grand?

McGraw’s Kid

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It’s always something with me, isn’t it?

This time, the distraction is eight weeks old and weighs maybe four pounds. So far, his only name is Puppy, although he is occasionally referred to as “Mcgraw’s Kid”. His sire, Brangay Quick Draw, is known to most as McGraw. Does this mean Puppy needs to have a name such as Wild Bill Hickock, or Wyatt Earp. I hope not.

One thing is certain. Not only is Puppy the center of attention, but hunting him down and preparing for his arrival totally consumed every waking moment for more than a week. I could say now that he is here, life will be more normal. But, that wouldn’t be smart, now would it? It is a fact that life will be different.

By the way, brace yourself for occasional puppy pictures. If you are one of those who can’t handle syrupy sweet puppy photos now and again, step away from the blog.

Dortel, El Caballo Negro

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There are horses everywhere you turn at Silent Knights Farms. And, to top it off, Spring was in full swing when we arrived there April 16—balmy temperatures, sunshine, flowers, horses, seven dogs. For me, it was a little bit of Heaven. Since we drove down on Friday and returned Monday, I had two full days there to soak up all the goodness.

Don’t get me wrong, life here in Bear Valley Springs is mighty sweet; but I had grown quite weary repeating, “Goodbye, Winter. It was nice knowing you. See you next year. Don’t hurry back,” only to have Mr. Winter come roaring back for an unwelcome encore. (It snowed here last night—two days before May.) A weekend of uninterrupted Spring was a lovely gift. And, of course, there is no such thing as too many horses about.

Naturally, I fell in love with a couple of horses that were new to me. That's typical of me, I'm afraid. I’m a sucker for great looks and spirit. But, two of my sweetest treats came in the form of reunions of sorts with old crushes of mine.

One of the sweetest reunions was with the black gelding, Dortel. Dortel, the wild man. Dortel, who puts on the tough guy, I-will-eat-you-alive act one minute, but in another stands peacefully while I croon to him in my nonsensical and butchered Spanish. I whisper “Beunos dias,mi Querida. Usted es muy dulce . Mi caballo negro es muy hermoso. El Caballo es muy grande, muy elegante.” (Good day, my love. You are very sweet .) Okay, laying it on a bit thick, but I’m kinda crazy about the beast; and, as for the next part, he certainly is black, black as coal, and very beautiful. Then, the horse is very large (That’s a lie. He’s an Arabian and far from huge.) Very smart. (Yes, maybe too smart for his own good.) Dortel doesn’t know what I’m babbling on about and certainly doesn’t care that I am close to exhausting my miniscule Spanish vocabulary. I would feel even sillier talking to him about el gato (the cat) or telling him that el rio es rojo (the river is red). Therefore, the next stage usually ends up being “El caballo es muy loco y El Diablo, Si, uno caballo malo . Muy, muy loco en la cabeza.” Dortel isn’t fazed by being informed that he is crazy, a devil, bad, and even very crazy in the head. He just seems to like the sound of the Spanish language. Well, I think it sounds nice, as well, so we visit that way for a while.
Years ago, I met my friend at Silent Knight Farms, because of Dortel. She was walking him out after an endurance ride in Malibu and the moment I spotted them, I was smitten. She looked friendly and I asked the stranger if I might take some photos of her horse. She smiled, said sure, and that’s how it began. She became a client first, then a dear friend. And all because of this muy loco caballo. It was grand seeing him, this weekend, at liberty in one of the larger turnouts. What a joy he is to watch. Like the wind.