Category: dog ownership

Dog for Rent

“One very large dog for rent. Extra-large dog weighing one hundred two pounds wants playmate of equal size and temperament. Dog needs to be willing to play tag and wrestle. Has to like being chewed on. I will even supply the yard if necessary. If interested, please call.”

That is how my ad will read. I’ve decided that in order to keep Orso happy and content, I am going to rent him out as a playmate to other dogs. I’m not strong enough to really play with him. He does not have the “soft mouth” labs are famous for, he bites down hard and one of these days, I’m pretty sure he’s going to break my arm. He’s faster than I am and has learned how to whip around on me and grab whatever is closest to him, whether it’s my leg or arm.

This morning he was in a playful mood and as I reached down to push him, he turned much faster than I expected and grabbed my right forearm and bit down. At first I thought he broke it, but after I pushed back my sweatshirt, I saw the hole and blood. How he can bite through fabric and break the skin, but not the fabric always surprises me. So now I’m sporting two bruises on one side of my arm and a large puncture wound on the other.

So in order to keep me in one piece and Orso tired and happy, I need to find him a playmate. I am not ready to get another dog, so renting him out is the next best option. So what do you think, any takers?

Second Guessing

I watched one of those videos you find on Facebook that have been shared by anyone. Granted there was a disclaimer on the video telling me to have a tissue handy, so I should have known. It was one of those animal videos about a dog being rescued by a man who happened to come upon a trash bag on the side of a creek. When the man looked in the bag, it held a yellow Labrador puppy that someone had cast into the creek to drown. The video spanned the puppy’s life growing up with the man, going to ocean to play in the ocean, the man getting married, having a family and getting older with the daughter.

The video showed how the dog was thankful for being rescued and the life he had with the man. The video then went to the dog being old and in pain asking for the man to end his life. In the video the dog was saying that he was happy with his life and was thankful the man was there and with him at the end, when he was being euthanized. I knew what was coming, (not real) just inferred in the video, but it hit home hard. Having had Charlie euthanized less than three months ago, I was a blubbering mess.

I wasn’t second guessing our decision because there was no other option for us, I was second guessing my decision not to be there with Charlie at the end. I couldn’t watch AJ our black lab be euthanized when he was diagnosed with a massive tumor in his chest and couldn’t watch Charlie either. Now I wonder if I took the cowards way out. Would it have been better for Charlie if I had stayed by his side to the end? I don’t know. Mitch tells me no, that he has done it and it was very hard to watch. I know he is protecting me, but I wonder now if I did Charlie a disservice by not being there for him at a time when he needed to know he was still loved so much.

I have had friends and acquaintances tell me it is so peaceful being there with their beloved friend at the end. I watched Buddy, our first lab die gasping for breath on our kitchen floor and it wasn’t peaceful at all, it was horrible not knowing what was wrong, not knowing what to do, then all of a sudden there was nothing, he lay there so still, I looked at Mitch not understanding he had died, hoping for a miracle. I admit I don’t handle death well; I know it happens, I know we need it, but I don’t want to see it happen. Maybe that makes me a coward or a sissy, I don’t know, but I hope that Charlie knows I loved him even though I wasn’t there at the end.

Franklin Falls Snoqualmie Pass

Today we traveled to the Cascade Mountains up to Snoqualmie Pass to hike at Denny Creek. This morning was a more typical day in the Pacific Northwest, rainy and overcast with temperatures in the sixties. Up in the mountains, there is still snow at the higher elevations, even in June, go figure.

We first drove up to Snow Lake Trailhead and hiked up to see a couple of waterfalls higher up but there was still snow that high and fresh snow at 4,000 feet. So we wandered down to the Franklin Falls trailhead and hiked up to the waterfall. Orso wanted to get into the river and splash around, but the current was way too fast and hard, we would have had to chase him all the way to the ocean.

We found cabins in the woods right on the river, talk about isolated. All in all we are getting to see things we never had back in the Midwest.

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Today The Pacific Ocean

Today we drove out to the coast to let Orso play in the ocean. There were a few surfers out there trying to catch a few waves. Overall the day was beautiful, a mild breeze, partly cloudy and mild temperatures. I found some intact sand dollars and made Mitch put them in his pockets to carry for me.

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We took Orso to an inlet first to see how he would do in the ocean with the salt water.

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Then we moved to the ocean shore to explore.

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Welcome Home!

Another business trip in the books. More people watching, at the airport flying out and flying back, is a never ending source of entertainment. On the flight out the plane was booked to capacity and when I checked in for the flight I made sure I had an aisle seat. I don’t want to be stuck by some stranger who is in no hurry to get off the plane, I want to get out as quickly as I can. I sat in my aisle seat, first one to sit in our row, got settled in and a man stopped in front of me and said he had the middle seat so I stood up to let him in. A couple of minutes later another man stopped in front of me and said he had the window seat. As I was gathering my papers, he said that if it was easier, I could just scoot over and let him have my aisle seat. I looked at him and said, “No that’s not how it works.” The other guy moved over so he moved from the middle seat to the window seat, and the second man took the middle seat. Lucky me, he hadn’t bathed in a few days and he hogged the armrest.

The flight home provided much more entertainment. As the boarding process started, the gate agent made the announcement that people with small children and anyone needing assistance getting on board to come up and check in. I watched as a long line of people being pushed in wheelchairs, some walking with canes and some that I suspected were scamming the system just to get on the plane early queued up in front of the gate. Added to that group were parents with small children and babies, one woman came up pushing a double wide stroller and she plowed her way through the throng almost knocking one man wearing a walking cast over.

I sat there thinking, “Oh great a plane full of crying babies and people in wheelchairs, this is going to take forever to get boarded and with my luck I’ll get to sit next to an unhappy baby.” Then I remembered that I was in an exit row, no babies or small children in exit rows and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Don’t get me wrong, I have great respect for mothers of small children and most of the ones I flown with have more patience than I ever had. I was just tired and ready to be home.

The biggest welcome home came from Orso. He barked at me as I walked in the house and let me know how displeased he was that I was gone for nine days and I left him alone with Mitch. He showed me just how rough it was to be sequestered for nine days with Mitch, because as I started to walk up the stairs to the bedroom, I saw that he had diarrhea. All over the floor. At least it was not on the carpet. So at nine o’clock at night, after spending three and a half hours in a plane with one hundred and sixty-eight people and being awake for seventeen hours (not counting the time change), I got to mop the floor.

Business travel is so glamorous.

Photo Shot Sunday

These are some of the photos I took on my last hiking excursion. It was a beautiful Sunday.

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Definitely not on my Bucket List

I don’t really have a Bucket List, mainly because I haven’t done or been hardly anyplace and I want to see and do so much, a Bucket List isn’t necessary. I want to go hiking more, drink more wine, take more pictures and on and on and on. But there is one thing that is not something I want to experience ever again. Oh there are lots of things I don’t to experience, this is just one of them.

I had the distinct displeasure of getting to experience Salmonella Poisoning this week. Not only did I get to experience it one day, but I have gotten to experience for the last five days and after I finally figured out what this might be, I will get to live with this for probably another week or so. If I’m wrong in my self-diagnosis, I may be miserable for even longer. Yay. I’ve never had Salmonella so I’m not one hundred percent sure that this is Salmonella, I’m just guessing. Of course, if it’s not Salmonella, then I have a bigger problem, maybe. If I’m right I should recover within a week or so, if not then I guess it’s time to find a doctor. God knows I wouldn’t want to rush into anything.

I think I got Salmonella from eating bad eggs. Oh and I have been eating the eggs from the same carton of eggs for the last five days and so has Orso. I cook two egg whites every morning then cook the yolks and give them to Orso. So far he hasn’t experienced any discomfort, but then Mitch pointed out that he also eats dead things. It didn’t occur to me that eggs could be the problem until I went online and read up on Salmonella Poisoning. I kept going over everything I’ve eaten for the last five days, trying different things, like not taking a certain vitamin (even though I’ve been taking the same ones for years) or blaming not enough wine (can you get enough wine?) and the only common food I had eaten for the last five days is eggs.

Who knows, maybe it was just one of the eggs I ate or it could be the whole carton. I haven’t been playing with any lizards or snakes, so that’s out and I don’t hang out with chickens, making me think I’m pretty safe on my hypothesis. As far as food poisoning goes, from what I’ve read, Salmonella is not one of the worst and most people recover from it after about a week without any special treatment or medication. Lucky me, maybe only seven days to go.

Crash Kelly Strikes Again

I wanted to go hiking today and decided not to wake up Mitch, so I turned on the computer and searched around for some trails nearby. I found one that was only about fifteen minutes away from our house, so I loaded up Orso and headed out about seven thirty this morning. I left a note that said we went hiking, but I neglected to say where we went. I pulled into the parking lot and noticed a car already in the parking lot. I unloaded Orso and my backpack when I noticed that there was a man just sitting in the car with the engine running. A bit odd, but you know me, once I start on a path I usually just plow on through. As I passed his car he rolled the window down and said something I didn’t hear. I said good morning and kept on walking to the trailhead and into the woods. Yeah I know, not super bright, go into the woods and make it easier for a maniac.

The man didn’t follow us, just my overactive imagination, but I was more aware of any movement I came across. I was disappointed in what I found. The trail was okay, primitive, which was fine, just not much to see. There was a creek and a rickety wooden bridge, but not much else. Maybe because we were too close to civilization or maybe I was just spooked from the guy in the car, anyway I decided to turn around and head back to the car. When I reached the trailhead I saw that the white car was still in the parking lot and there was another car parked between his car and mine. As I got closer to the cars I saw a man in the second car just sitting there. Pretty creepy, so I quickly loaded up Orso, my backpack and jumped in the car and locked the doors. What a scaredy cat. I drove home and decided to wake Mitch up so he could take me hiking.

After he got up we headed out for a second hike, this time farther away. Our destination was Federation Forest State Park, about ninety minutes away. This one turned out to be a bust because the park was closed. Not to be denied, we turned around and found a trailhead along the side of the road, which was part of the park. We unloaded and headed off into the forest. We found huge trees toppled over, some that had pulled out of the ground by the roots. Huge trees that were six or seven feet in diameter laying between other trees or stacked on trees that were crushed under the impact. The trails were a tangled mess of branches and limbs and whole trees that we had to either climb over or crouch down and crawl under.

One such tree that was laying across the path proved to be my swan song. I stepped over it with one leg and as I was clearing it with my left leg, my boot got caught on a small branch still attached to the tree. I went down hard landing on my right side. I hit a root that jutted out of the ground with my ribs under my arm. I thought I was dead for a minute, then when the pain hit I realized I was still alive. I hit so hard I thought I popped an implant. But least I landed so that I saved the camera I was holding and the backpack with the other cameras were not hurt.

Mitch walked up to me and asked if I was impaled on anything before he helped me up. I guess he didn’t want to have any blood gushing out of me. I’m not sure what he would have done if I was impaled on something, leave me and go get help or just leave me. I slowly got back up on my feet and assessed the damage. I think I bruised my ribs on the right side, but none were broken I was pretty sure. There will be a nice bruise in a day or so on my right hip too and I cut the palm of my right hand on something.

I decided I had enough fun for one day so we headed back to the trailhead. As we neared the trailhead we saw a sign that was taped up that read, “Trail closed due to hazardous conditions.” Really I never would have known.

I think I need to do more pre-planning on our hikes.

First Impressions

We met our next door neighbor on the other side of the house today. On a scale of one to ten on first impressions, I think we scored a minus five. Orso was outside with us while Mitch was assembling our new mower so I could cut the grass and I was going in and out dragging more boxes and containers in the house to unpack. Orso was just hanging out lying in the grass being good until he decided it was time to explore the neighborhood. I looked up and no Orso, Mitch went through the house checking each room and no Orso. I checked the backyard and side yard, no Orso. Great, we’ve lost our dog in a new foreign neighborhood.

Mitch stood out in the street scanning the other houses and yards, searching for a missing hundred pound brown dog. Our next door neighbor walked to the end of her driveway and asked Mitch if he was looking for a big brown Labrador. Mitch said yes he was. I had just walked to the end of our driveway when I heard her response.

She said, “Well he just took a great big crap in my yard.” Oh yay.

I turned around and went back inside to get a poop bag, thinking great just great, now she hates us. I walked out to see Orso standing next to Mitch looking quite pleased with himself.

She said, “He is quite friendly, he walked right up to me wagging his tail, but you never know with a strange dog how they might act.”

We stood there talking to her trying to be polite and hope that the future would not be judged by this initial meeting. I held Orso’s collar so he couldn’t wander off and poop again or worse. Just when I thought things might not be that bad, Orso shook his head and splattered her with a big long tendril of slobber. She looked down at her arm and Orso, probably wandering if his drool was toxic or caused cancer. All I could do was stand there and apologize. I looked around for a sinkhole or large rock to hide under, but no, nothing that easy was going to help me get away from this moment in time.

First Orso poops in her yard, then he showers her in dog drool, the only thing he hasn’t done yet is hike his leg and pee on her. At this point I wasn’t sure that wasn’t about to happen. I’m sure we are going to be great friends.

One Week In

We have been in our new home for one week now. The place is only partially a disaster. The garage is half filled with full boxes and the living room is half filled with empty boxes. So you could say I’m halfway there. We only have window coverings on the master bedroom patio door, the rest of the windows throughout the house are uncovered and bare it all. Needless to say, showering is a bit awkward. But we’re getting there, slowly but surely.

The neighbors that we’ve met are all very nice and friendly, Orso is trying to make friends with Gunner, the black lab across the street. Gunner is a little overwhelmed by this big goofy dog that just wants to be buds, something Orso hasn’t had for a long time. There is a series of trails at the end of the road by or house that is secluded so we can let Orso off leash to run around to his heart’s content.

The neighborhood is quiet and secluded, the road to our home is long and almost half a mile from the main road, plus it is a dead end so there is not much traffic coming or going. All in all a very quiet area, a complete opposite to apartment living. I walk Orso at four in the morning and all I hear is bull frogs in the pond across the road.

One week in and today I didn’t get arrested or shot, but for a minute it was touch and go. I like to consider myself fairly smart and savvy, I watch all the crime drama shows and I’m quite comfortable around guns and shooting. But today I was wearing my dumb hat. I took Orso for a walk this afternoon and as I walking down the road I saw a pickup truck stopped on the side of the road up ahead. He started backing up then stopped and just stayed there idling on the side of the road. It didn’t feel right so I decided to turn down a side road instead of walking past the truck.

About a third of the way down the side road, I heard all of these sirens coming toward me and thought it was a fire truck, but no I turned around and saw a car coming toward me with a light bar on top. The first car was a police car, the second one was a county sheriff’s car and at the end of the road was another sheriff’s car stopped. All had their lights flashing. Another sheriff’s car pulled up and turned into the neighborhood down the road from our neighborhood. I counted five cars, a mix of local police and county sheriff’s deputies and here I am walking a dog on a lonely road with no way to get out of the line of fire. Lucky me.

I walked passed the car that was parked on the side of the road and as soon as I got in front of the police car, the officer inside turned the car sideways to block the road. That made me feel much, better, (not) now we’re in between the two cars that were blocking the intersection and the midway point. Oh goody, now I’m going to get caught in the crossfire, if something happens. As I got closer to the sheriff’s car I got hit with a major hot flash and unzipped my jacket. Even as I was unzipping the zipper I had this inner thought that I was being very stupid, but couldn’t stop myself.

As I got to the intersection and turned the corner to head home, I see two men walking toward me with a dog. So what did I do but something extra special stupid. Right in front of the deputy sheriff I reached into my pocket to pull out a handful of dog treats to keep Orso’s attention on me. I caught myself at the last second and wisely pulled out the bag of kibble so that no one would see any threat and get myself shot.

I’m not sure what they were looking for, but I’m really glad they didn’t find it while I was out there with Orso. I wonder what’s up for my second week.