Tag: nature

Just a Routine Visit to the Vet?

Even a routine visit to the vet to get the dogs their six month bordetella vaccination is never dull.  People can call dogs “dumb” animals if they want, but those that do evidently don’t actually own dogs.  Our three love to go with us everywhere and when we can accommodate them, we do.  Before Orso that was easy for us.  AJ and Charlie were always happy and content just to be in the car with us.  When we got Orso, dog rides became arduous to say the least.  He will howl and bark at us when he doesn’t get to get out of the car to go in when us.  Getting to ride in the car being out and about isn’t enough for him, he wants to get out of the car and go inside the store with us too.   Now he has succeeded in getting the other two to bark and carry on along with him.  Very painful on the ears, plus the looks from other bystanders are very embarrassing.  We’ve even been paged while shopping at Cabelas, that “the station wagon with the barking dogs, has left your lights on.”  I made Mitch go and turn off the lights on the car; I didn’t want anyone to know who owned the heathens.

A trip to the vet, no big deal, right?  Wrong, Orso remembers where places are and how we get there.  Once we start out on our treks, he gets his bearings and depending on where we are going he starts howling and barking at us, even before he knows whether or not he gets to get out or has to stay in the car.  Very annoying, makes me crazy having a dog bark at the back of my head to yell at me.  Coincidence, no,  because he doesn’t bark at us at the gas station or when I drop Mitch off at work in the morning, he knows that we’re not staying.  Not so dumb, huh.  He knows the road to the vet and starts barking and raising hell as soon as we pass the grocery store. 

Today we had the added bonus of road construction.  Yay.  Lane and road closures, oh goody.  The road to vet is closed and the only way in was to take the roundabout and go through the very exclusive golf course and housing addition that the vet’s office is by.  Here we were driving a seventeen year old station wagon with three dogs sticking their heads out of the windows barking at golfers and residents as we snaked our way through the detour to get to the vet.  We looked like the poster child for chaos.  Thank god no one holding a golf club was within throwing distance to our car.  Though I’m sure we caused a few muffed shots. 

After today I think the city may rethink their detour route after all the nasty phone calls they will probably receive.

I’ve Been Acclimatized

I’ve been acclimatized!  It all started last winter.  We had a very mild dry winter, no complaints here.  That weather pattern carried on into spring, delivering a warmer, drier than normal spring, still very few complaints.  I was able to get my garden planted earlier, did a bunch of dividing and transplanting plants.  I even fertilized and spread weed killer on the yard.  That’s when the rain officially stopped here.  Finally we have had the summer from hell, literally.  This has been the driest year on record and one of the hottest in history.  Absolutely miserable.  We’ve had to water, water and water constantly, driving to me consider getting a second job just to pay the water bill.

Finally the sweltering heat dropped down from the hundreds to a more normal realm of the eighties and low nineties.  Yesterday I walked out of work to go to lunch and was greeted with eighty six degree temperatures and thought it felt very comfortable and mild.  Can you believe that, eighty six degrees and I thought it felt very comfortable and even a little cool with the wind blowing?  I had to look at the thermometer just to confirm the actual temperature.  This morning we took the dogs on their morning walk at 4:30 and it was sixty five degrees, where was my jacket?  This does not bode well for me when we revert back to our normal freezing winter. 

I may have to start wintering in Florida.

And The Heat Goes On

The heat and the drought just keeps coming.  It’s like a blast furnace each time you walk outside.   Taking the dogs on walks is short and slow.  They don’t want to be out in the heat anymore than we do.  Of course this is the year that we’ve added two raised beds to grow more vegetables.  Two more beds means two times more watering, which translates to a much higher water bill.  This is a double edged sword for me.  I love the taste of home grown tomatoes, nothing like a big juicy home grown tomato.  With this drought we have to water almost every day just to keep the plants from withering. 

I’m also the utility police at home.  I walk around turning lights off, raising or lowering the thermostat and turning the faucet off in mid tooth brushing.  I am just plain cheap when it comes to wasting electricity, gas and water.  I rant on about saving energy, conserving water and recycling everything we can possibly recycle.  Mitch made and installed three rain barrels around the house so I can water the gardens with rainwater.  This year all of the rain barrels are bone dry, no water to even dribble out. 

We decided to use soaker hoses to accomplish watering more efficiently.  The problem was that the three raised beds were too far apart so we were wasting a lot of water in between.  Mitch solved this by cutting up the seventy five foot hose into three sections which he snaked through each bed then connected the spaces in between with regular hose pieces.  This has worked out very well for us.  Now we’re only watering the vegetable beds and not everything in between.  Of course the yard has gone dormant and I’m hoping will recover next spring. 

Whether you believe in global warming or not, this weather pattern sucks and I’m ready for it to be over.

We’re Hunting Squirrels

Charlie waiting patiently

Orso trying to climb the tree

The object of their interest

We Were Not Alone

Our normal morning walk at o’dark thirty, 4:30am actually, started as always.  Me trying to get the dogs and leashes under control.  AJ will only walk on my left, Charlie and Orso don’t care which side they walk on as long as Orso is on the outside and Charlie is next to me.  Orso and Charlie will switch from the left side to right multiple times during the walk almost always by crossing behind me causing me to have to juggle the leashes around to keep from getting yanked around from behind.

On this particular morning, the walk started off with our normal chaos, sniffing, peeing and snatching grass to munch on during the walk.  But when we got to the long stretch of road that has no houses on either side, a ravine on the left and a wooded hill on the right with houses on the hilltop, the dogs discovered we weren’t alone.  Something was keeping pace with us.  The invisible stalker was up on the hill to our right.  Orso discovered our stalker first, stopping and sniffing the air with his head held high, straining at the leash to get a closer sniff.  Charlie soon caught a whiff and joined Orso straining at his leash too trying to get closer to whatever “It” was.  I looked around in the gloom, but couldn’t see anything, I listened intently to try and catch any rustling sound to try and determine where and what was out there, but I didn’t hear anything.  I tugged on their leashes to pull them away from the area and hopefully leaving the thing, whatever it was alone and hopefully leaving us alone too.

But no, our invisible stalker stayed with us, keeping pace staying high on the hill and being quite stealthy.  The only giveaway was his scent which evidently was tantalizing to the dogs.  Me not so much.  I couldn’t smell, see or hear the stalker, so I was getting pretty unnerved trying to keep the dogs under control and alert to a possible threat.  The rest of the walk was uneventful when we got past the dark stretch of road and back into the glow of the streetlights.  Of course that was until Orso shook his head and I about jumped out of my skin.  Just a little jittery, silly me.

The Call Of The Wild…Sorta

Camping in the wild lends to unique sounds from the calls of the local inhabitants claiming their territory or seeking a mate.  Hearing wolves howl late at night is both an exhilarating and unnerving sound, knowing you’re not alone and wild animals are nearby, protected only by the wall of a camper or the thin material of a tent.  Camping out in the wild you expect and hope to hear the noises, that’s one of the reasons you’re out there in the first place.  Since I don’t go camping, my idea of roughing it is that the ice machine is at the other end of the hall, I usually only get to hear the late night sounds of wolves howling on National Geographic.  So imagine how unnerving it was to wake up to the sound of howling at midnight in our bedroom. 

I bolted straight up out of a semi-sound sleep looking around trying to find the source of the soulful howl.  The howling came from across the room, inside the bedroom.  Living in the Midwest, we don’t have wolves, a few coyotes, but no wolves, so you can imagine how being roused out of my sleep to the eerie howl would be a bit strange to say the least.  The sound didn’t come from outside, because the dogs were still asleep and if there was an interloper outside our window, the dogs would have jumped up barking and throwing a fit.  AJ was asleep in the round bed next to my side of the bed so he didn’t howl.  Charlie was asleep at the foot of our bed, so he didn’t howl either.  No, the howling came from the dog bed next to Mitch’s side of the bed.  Orso was dreaming and for some reason he howled in his sleep.  The weirdest part was the neither of the other dogs stirred a bit.

Why I have no idea, because when they’re awake, they don’t howl.  I know, I’ve tried to get them to howl, but they won’t cooperate.  So I’m usually standing around howling all be myself, looking pretty silly.  Most dogs run in their sleep or make small woofing sounds, but I’ve never heard them howl.  So now I have a dog that dreams he’s a wolf.  Next he’ll start sleep walking, raiding the fridge.  I see lots of sleep interrupted nights ahead.

Flashcards

I think I’ve come up with the perfect solution to our groundskeeper’s good plant vs weed recognition problem.  Flashcards.  Very simple yet elegant as a solution.  Flashcards work for kids in school.  Math and alphabet flashcards have been used for decades.  So maybe plant flashcards would work.  I would take pictures of all the different plants growing around the lake and laminate the photos to plastic cards.  I can draw a circle with a slash through the middle of photo of a weed and even type a description below the photo.  Something like, “kill on sight” or maybe “wanted dead and decimated” for a weed and “diplomatic immunity” or “endangered species” for a keeper plant.  This may slow down the weed eating process around here, but eventually hopefully the groundskeeper will get it and maybe some poor plant souls will be spared the weapon of plant destruction.   Especially the ones I’ve paid money to put in the ground.

The flashcards could be put on a ring and hang from his belt for easy plant recognition access.  The groundskeeper would walk along flip up and peruse the flashcard to scan the photos searching to determine if the plants are public enemy #1 or keepers.  Who knows maybe flashcards will catch on for gardeners everywhere.  I wonder if I should apply for a patent.

Definitely Not A Botanist

Sunday the temperature was around ninety nine degrees and it felt like stepping into a blast furnace when you walked outside.  A great day to sit inside a dark movie theater, munching popcorn and watching the latest movie, or visiting a museum, anything indoors out of the heat. 

But the heat didn’t deter one man, our local groundskeeper.  A very nice man that works hard to mow and maintain the city grounds.  One of his tasks is to weed whack the weeds along the road edge to keep the weeds from growing too tall.  I couldn’t believe he was out in the middle of the day wielding his weed eater attacking the straggly weeds on the other side of the road.  He either doesn’t feel the heat like the rest of us or he has a death wish.  Or maybe I’m just a sissy.

I walked outside to get the burgers off the grill and saw him walking up the road away from my boulder, weed eater in hand and thought surely he didn’t use the weed eater on my ornamental grass that I had just planted a month ago.  Surely not.  Just to be sure I walked down the yard, burgers in tow to check on my grasses.  Sure enough he cut the grasses down all the way to the nubs.  I wanted to chase him down, rip the weed eater out of his hands and club him with it.  All I could think of was the hard work I’d done, digging up the grasses to replant, digging holes in the gravelly ground and replanting the grasses.  Not to mention having to listen to the diatribe from the neighbor, that I placed the granite boulder in the wrong spot.  I carefully watered the grasses until they were growing and looked like they would take hold.  Now the grasses were mere stubs in the ground. 

How could anyone mistake the tall graceful clumps of ornamental grass to common everyday weeds?  Was he blind, using the weed eater as a seeing cane to clear his path?  No, he just has no clue between the difference of a keeper plant and a noxious weed.  The only reason our local groundskeeper is still walking without the need of a cane, was the look of horror and regret on his face, and his comment of “Oh s***” when I explained to him I planted the grasses on purpose that he just mowed down with his weapon of plant destruction.

He’s definitely not a botanist.

The Wrong Spot

When we demolished and rebuilt our deteriorating retaining wall, we found a huge granite boulder buried under the wall.  We paid someone to come and unearth it for us.  He unearthed it easily and even placed the boulder in the exact spot I wanted it moved to.  In front of our house is a flat area that people will park on to visit the people across the street.  Digging ruts in our yard and never bothering to ask if we mind.  I have long been contemplating various possible solutions to the problem. Landmines, punji sticks and curled razor wire seemed a bit over the top, but I was getting close to my wit’s end as to what to do.  I had long considered a boulder but the size I needed was cost prohibitive, so it was very timely that we literally were sitting on the very solution to my problem and a legal solution to boot.  Bonus!  Of course when the man with the backhoe came out and moved the boulder for us the offending neighbors were out in force to watch with great interest.  Questions were asked as to why I had it put there and to be polite I just said that it was the perfect spot.  I would plant some ornamental grasses around it and how pretty it would look and yada-yada-yada.  Nothing was said at the time about my rock putting a damper on our yard being a parking spot, maybe they hadn’t figured it out yet.  I just played it off as being totally oblivious to anything but my new rock. 

I decided to dig up some of my ornamental grass that has just taken over and is growing in places I don’t want it to, and replant in clumps around the back of the boulder to accentuate the rock.  Plus it makes the rock look even bigger.  Another bonus; rock looks bigger, takes up more space!  Of course while I’m digging holes around the rock, a neighbor comes over to ask what I was doing.  I looked down at the holes and the temptation was strong to tell him that I had hacked Mitch up and  was burying body parts around the boulder, but I restrained myself and explained the obvious, since the grass was laying in clumps next to the rock.  Just as I was finishing up planting the last clump, the neighbor turned and told me that I had put the rock in the wrong spot.  I looked around, played dumb and said, “The wrong spot?  Really?”  Since I wasn’t playing into it, he had no opening to say that I’d ruined an awesome parking spot for anyone that wanted to use our yard as a Parking Spots R Us.  He said that if I wanted to sit on the rock the only view I had was his house.  I said that maybe someone would sit there to wait for a bus.  The only bus that comes by is a school bus and it doesn’t stop here.  He said that maybe he would sit on my rock.  Again the temptation was great to say something really wicked and evil, but all I said was that he could sit on my rock whenever he wanted to.

But now I’m worried that if want to do anymore landscaping I’ll put it in the wrong spot.

Five Tired Puppies

Swimming was a huge success as usual.  The day was beautiful, clear skies, warm around 85° a bit windy though, which kept us from baking.  AJ couldn’t wait to jump off the dock and will jump into the water, retrieve the drop, swim back and race to the end of the dock to do this over and over until he is totally exhausted.  Happy and wiped out.  Charlie won’t jump off the dock but wades out until he can’t touch anymore then gingerly steps out and starts tentatively swimming until he remembers, oh yeah, I can do this.  He’ll retrieve the drop only if no other dog is close to him  in the water.  Strange dog, I know.  Orso will get in the water, paddle around to cool off then stand on the end of the dock wistfully watching the boats go by hoping someone will come take him for a ride.  He’s a gentlemen’s dog wishing for the good life.

 

Our friends dogs, Murphy a large German Shepherd, loves to swim just for the sake of swimming.  He will paddle around in circles, back and forth enjoying the moment, just being in the water.  Stella, a Belgian Malinois Chow mix loves jumping off the dock to retrieve a pink Frisbee.  She’s also good at retrieving the wayward drop or Frisbee that one of the other dogs gives up on.  We’ll just point at or throw a rock out where we want her to go and she’ll jump off and go get it just like a champ.   

The afternoon is not just swimming though.  Oh no, in between the dock diving and swimming, there is tag, keep away and MMA Style wrestling.  Charlie is the usual instigator of keep away, he’ll come out of the water with a drop in tow and take off running begging everyone to give chase.  Tail tucked, butt down and head up jinxing and jagging running around like a lunatic with three other dogs giving their best effort to run him down.  If one of the other dogs catches up with him, then the chest bumping and neck chewing begins.  Orso is the usual recipient of the neck chewing.  A rousing game a tag follows neck chewing, Orso runs away and the other try to tag him and drag him down.  Finally a cooling dip in the water rejuvenates the gang of hooligans.  This is repeated about three or four times before the dogs are finally spent and ready to walk back home for a bath and dinner.  Frosty pumpkin pops for dessert.  Life doesn’t get much better than this.  I wish my life was as simple.