Category: Dogs

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.

This is Good-Bye

So long, sayonara, see you later, hasta la vista baby! However you want to say it, it’s good bye apartment. After six long months, we finally found a house. Don’t get me wrong, the apartment is a very nice apartment, clean, large and the apartment management is super, I’m just not cut out for apartment living. I like my aloneness too much.

Soon I won’t have to listen to Big Foot clomping around one floor above me, hammering god knows what, slamming cabinet doors and playing video games with the volume all the way up until the wee hours of the morning. I won’t have neighbors that drag their dried up Christmas tree out and not sweep up the thick blanket of pine needles covering the hallway and stairs leading outside, so that we drag them into our apartment. Most of all I will have a place to walk Orso that is not along a busy street with bicyclists silently whizzing past you from behind startling both of us, causing Orso to bark and lunge at them. No more cars with drivers that don’t know their cars can really go twenty-five miles an hour, they just haven’t tried it.

You can tell when it’s time to go, things happen telling you that you’ve made the right decision. It’s time to move, when two days after you give your intent to vacate, you find a parking violation letter on the windshield of the truck, telling you that you have to move it. Never mind the fact that the truck has been sitting in the same spot for the last six months, but all of a sudden it has to be moved. Then it seems like every little thing is glaring at you, shouting at you, “Get out, run!”

Another clue came when while walking Orso that same day, a woman pulls her car out of the parking lot and stops to tell me that Orso’s urine will burn up the grass. I turned and laughed at her and the absurdity of the statement. I was so tempted to tell her yes I could understand how that could happen since we live in such an “arid” climate. I wanted to say, “Seriously, we are on track to be the wettest winter on record, we are getting rain every day. The damn worms are drowning coming out of the muddy soggy soil and you think my dog’s urine is going to burn up the grass?” Instead I just looked at her, shook my head and walked away.

Then the final hint that it is time to go came sometime late Friday night or early Saturday morning when I saw that someone stole our doormat. Can you believe it, someone came and stole our black astro-turf doormat? It’s not like we are on the main floor where you walk right up to the door and out, there are stairs involved getting to our door. I think what bothers me more is that someone was outside our door while I was asleep.

We got a notice from the complex management notifying us that someone would come in and make a “pre-move out inspection” to see what would is needed to be fixed or repaired before the apartment could be rented to someone else. In order to make a good impression, I have washed walls, vacuumed the carpet almost daily, mopped the floors and cleaned the bathrooms. There has been no damage done to the apartment, we haven’t hung any pictures or painted any walls so we’re good there and the dogs are well behaved and don’t destroy or chew up stuff. I even had the warmer on all day to put out a nice red apple scent throughout. What could go wrong?

The notice said “between 9am to 5pm”, and I waited all day for someone to come by. Dinner time came and no one had come by yet so I figured that everyone was too busy and started dinner. In order to clean out the freezer as much as I can before we move, I thought I would cook a steak for dinner. Well we still don’t have a grill yet, so I turned on the broiler in the oven. The steak was broiling away just fine when all of a sudden the grease caught on fire and smoke started rolling out of the oven and when I pulled the pan out flames shot out and climbed over the oven. I blew the flames out, but there was a lot of smoke, which set off all of the fire alarms in the apartment, I did not realize there were three fire alarms in one two bedroom apartment. Of course the fire alarms are screeching that high pitched screech and as a bonus there was a female voice yelling at us “Fire get out” over and over.

I opened the doors and fanned the smoke alarms until one by one they quit screeching. Just as I was about to sit back down to our salads, there was a knock on the door. Fully expecting the fire department at the door, there was one of our maintenance men there to do the inspection. Great, just as I try to burn down the apartment complex someone shows up to inspect the apartment for damage.

Well there goes our damage deposit.

Charlie

I will preface this by saying I consider myself an animal lover. I would never intentionally hurt or abuse any animal for the pleasure of seeing something in pain. I think of myself as a good pet owner, or at least I try to be. Sometimes that’s not as easy as it sounds. In fact right now I’m at an impasse as to what is a good pet owner.

We got Charlie when he was ten weeks old. He is the only dog we picked out as a puppy and purposely brought home to raise. His parents were proven bird hunting dogs, so Mitch figured that Charlie would inherit those traits and he did. Charlie has always had a great nose, searching out pheasants. His points are picture perfect and he’s never been leery of the retrieve. He’s a good hunter despite having us as pet owners. Now after eleven years he still has that hunting heart and soul.

What he doesn’t have any more is all of his facilities. He is suffering from Canine Dementia or Cognitive Dysfunction. There isn’t a lot of good information out there on Canine Dementia, but he’s not exhibiting most of the symptoms, loss of sight, hearing or incontinence. No, Charlie has become very aggressive. He has always been a bit unstable, stemming from being attacked by the dogs of a former neighbor twice when he was a puppy. Those two incidents pretty much set the tone for his animal aggression for the rest of his life. Now an explosive episode comes without warning or provocation.

In the last two months Charlie has attacked Orso three times just for being within five feet of him. On one occasion, Charlie went after Orso and I was between the two so Charlie bit me, not breaking the skin, but he left a large bruise and a knot on my thigh. Another incident happened with Orso walking in the door and Charlie went after him drawing blood and when Mitch tried to separate Charlie from Orso, Charlie went after Mitch. Mitch said that when he looked in Charlie’s eyes, he wasn’t there. His eyes were dilated and blank, no recognition, just rage. Two of the last three episodes have drawn blood.

We’ve tried Diazepam (doggie valium) but it doesn’t help much. I think we were hoping he would sleep through his days and be blissfully dopey. Instead we still have a dog that gives way to explosive violence and aggressive attacks aimed at Orso. It is so heartbreaking to watch our dog (crazy as he is) slip away and become replaced by an animal that is more Mr. Hyde than Dr. Jekyll. It is even more heartbreaking knowing that we can’t protect Orso, who doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, doesn’t deserve any of this and loves Charlie so much.

Since we don’t have a vet here yet, we don’t have anyone we trust to talk to about this and ask for guidance, we called our vet in Kansas City to discuss our options. Sadly there are few out there, and only for the short term. More Diazepam maybe but this is only going to get worse. We need to plan for an end of life solution. We know this and accept it, but following through and finding a vet here feels almost like an act of cowardice. We took him to raise and euthanasia feels like we are failing Charlie; that we should figure out a way to fix him. That is our hearts talking, our heads know better, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It’s hard to even talk about it because to voice it and say the words, makes it real, and that means you have to make a decision.

I only hope that Charlie will sleep well and rest easy and know how much we have loved him his whole life. He was a good hunter, and loyal to a fault. A piece of my heart will go with him.

Worms for Sale

I am learning a whole new lifestyle here. Winters here are not as cold as the in Midwest, wetter though with this past December as one of the wettest on record. January brought more rain, so it’s a fair assumption that the ground here is pretty saturated. This month we’ve had temperatures in the high fifties and even hit sixty a couple of days. For the most part this isn’t so bad, I would rather walk the dogs in the rain than in the bitter freezing cold in the Midwest.

The downside to all of the rain we’ve been having is earthworms are everywhere. They are coming out of the ground because it is so wet and are all over the parking lot of our apartment complex. Maybe it has to do with the landscaping or the black asphalt, I don’t know but it is so gross, walking through the parking lot and dodging hundreds of worms stretched out drowning. The worms range in size from small to night crawler size, so can you imagine what it would feel like stepping on a big squishy slimy night crawler and have your foot slip out from under you. Then you are sitting on the ground getting worm guts on your butt. Even grosser.

In order to solve this dilemma and save the earthworms from either drowning or being squished by cars or feet, I’ve come up with an enterprise that should net me millions or at least ten bucks. I am going to go out and collect all of the water logged worms dry them out and sell them on the internet. I would wrap them up in a cute little box, maybe like the Chinese takeout boxes and ship them all over the world.

This would be a great gift for the fishermen out there, kids that want to start an earthworm farm or even someone that wants to rescue worms and relocate them. Hey, they rescue everything else out there from dogs to elephants, surely someone out there cares about the fate of the lowly earthworm.

Stealth Mode

Definitely not a term that is ever used when describing a Labrador retriever. Friendly, playful, loyal, gun dog, excellent retriever and most popular family dog are all words and terms used to describe the Labrador retriever, see no stealth mode. The breed originated in Newfoundland, originally called the St John’s water dog and was bred to retrieve in the cold waters. Today the Lab is a great family dog, loyal and playful, always in the middle of everything family.

To describe a Lab, you start at the head. His head is large and square or “blocky” with soft eyes that always melt your heart and make you smile. They have amazing hearing with ears that perk up at the slightest sound of the peanut butter jar lid being turned, even if they are on the other side of the house. A Lab has a big deep chest housing a stomach that can and has eaten almost a whole fifty pound bag of dog food in one sitting. Tip, never leave a bag of dog food unsecured.

At the end of the Labrador retriever is the tail. The tail was designed to be wide at the base and strong, to help steer and keep him afloat in the icy waters. The tail also has to be very large and strong, because that is where his heart is. The tail tells you everything you will ever need to know about a Lab. The happier the dog is faster his tail wags. The faster his tail wags, the bigger his smile gets on the front end. As far as happy goes, the Labrador retriever takes top honors.

With our goofy schedule, I work days and Mitch works nights. I get up at four am to start my day while Mitch is still asleep so I try to move around quietly and get dressing without making any noise. Well no matter how quiet I am, it is all canceled out with the banging of tails wagging, thumping against the bathroom door, the wall or the closet doors. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to give them space to wag in silence, they find a hard surface to bang their happy out. Good thing Mitch sleeps like the dead.

Stealth mode, not in this home.

I Still Got It!

You know, that hidden talent. The one thing you excel at, something you do better than anyone else. For me, I have a special talent that I can do better than anyone I know or possibly in the world. Sound a bit arrogant, I don’t mean to, I’m just pretty sure no one else can do this as well as me. I was getting a bit worried that I had lost my special talent, because it has been a long dry spell.

I have walking route I take almost every day with the dogs. It is a mile circuit with a narrow steep trail at one end and a long winding road at the other end. If I choose to take the long winding road first I have to walk up the road which has a 15% grade and three switch backs. By the second switch back I usually regret my decision, even though I know it’s good for me. Then I take the narrow trail down to the slick wooden steps hoping that the dogs don’t pull me off my feet.

If I choose the trail at the beginning, I have to climb the flight of steep wooden steps up the hill. It is steeper than the road but shorter. I always feel like a heart attack is one short breath away. Also good for me to get the workout, but I’m not so fond of the reminder that I need to work out harder. Then when I come to the long winding road which now a downhill 15% grade is easier for me, but I feel like I’m cheating a bit.

Yesterday, I chose to take the trail up and the road down, the dogs were cooperating walking sedately. I marveled at the fact that I didn’t have the usual stabbing pain in my chest as I walked up the path, thinking maybe I’m getting back in shape. We walked across the parking lot of the apartment complex and headed down the road. We had passed the second switch back when my left foot hit a slick spot on the road and I went down hard. My right knee slammed against the pavement, eliciting a few choice words. Both dogs stopped and waited patiently for me to get back up on my feet. They are used to me falling down for no apparent reason. The biggest embarrassment was that a car drove by just as I went down.

I waited until I got back home before looking at my knee, which I’m now sporting a nice bruise and an abrasion that spans across my knee. Yep I still got it. I can fall down better than anyone else I know.

It’s good to know that I excel at one thing.

Taking Stock

Christmas is just two weeks away and this year is so different from previous holidays. This year instead of planning and preparing dinner for one son, his wife and daughters on Christmas Eve and doing it again on Christmas Day for the other son, his wife, daughters and the rest of us. Christmas Eve was usually prime rib and Christmas Day was chicken parmesan with spaghetti and meatballs. Two whole days spent cooking and baking, cleaning and making sure everything was perfect. A bit obsessive, maybe but I love cooking and baking and creating food that people enjoy eating. This year will be a lot different from our past holiday dinners, this year Christmas dinner will be something quick and easy, maybe pizza, maybe leftovers, it will be just the two of us and Mitch will have to leave to go to work.

I have been feeling a bit off, a long way from everything known, routine and comfortable, not that I don’t love where I’m at now and what I’m doing, it’s just a lot different, out of my comfort zone. Since we are still in an apartment, the majority of our belongings are still in storage, most of my cookware, all of my Christmas decorations and cookbooks are not here to put up or use, so I feel like we’re living in an extended stay hotel. Not really home.

Up until now I hadn’t been lonely, even though I work from home and the regular outside contacts I have are my hairdresser I see once a month and our realtor who is patient beyond belief trying to help us find our dream house. Our friends that live here are wonderful, but with our crazy work schedules, social life doesn’t exist, not that we had much of a social life before. So I’m not missing out on that here.

At first I couldn’t put my finger on it, what my problem was, then it dawned on me, I have no problems. I have a husband that loves me, two dogs that make me crazy and would eat anyone that tried to hurt me, (I am the giver of food) and living in a beautiful wonderful place that I get to make new memories. We won’t have the hustle and hectic days of cooking and cleaning, but we will have each other, and that’s what really matters.

Yes, it’s been a very chaotic year with so much upheaval and change, but maybe that’s what you need sometimes, great change. Life, like water that doesn’t move grows stagnant and complacent, forgetting the truly important things in our world. Our family may be thousands of miles away and I won’t be there to cook for them, or watch them open their presents, but I can call and talk to them anytime, not just on Christmas.

The year is coming to an end and the New Year brings promises of hope and change, yes there must always be change, not all changes are good but all changes are not bad either. I embrace the future and all the changes to come.

Flaming Geyser Park – Hike

This morning we did a bit of exploring and went to wander around Flaming Geyser State Park in Black Diamond, Washington. The morning was cool in the high forties and raining. It’s November in Northwest Washington, and that is what we get, chilly rainy mornings. It stopped raining about the time we got there so I was able to grab one of my cameras and snap to my hearts content.

Sadly there was no flaming geyser but I did get some pretty cool shots.

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