Tooth of the Dog

Seriously... don't his teeth look good?

Jack's been feeling a little rough the last few weeks with mysterious swollen glands and a bit of a fever so when he rolled over on his back for a belly rub and flashed me a toothy grin, I had to get a picture!  I'm so glad he's getting better!!  And he's acting more like his normal goofy self every day now.

Along the same timeline, I've been thinking that Lightning, Jack, and Gizmo all have pretty decent smelling breath and their teeth are looking a lot cleaner and whiter.  Gazing at Jack's picture got me thinking about it and wondering why.  That makes it sound like I think it's a bad thing...  And nothing could be less true.  Clean teeth are wonderful!  Just a bit of a surprise because they were getting kind of gunked up and I've been dreading the lecture next time we get to a vet.  Turns out I'm accidentally doing something right - the boys' favorite bedtime treat.

Just about every night before turning the lights out we share an APPLE.

Sometimes two.

The fleshy part of an apple contains a good bit of malic acid that helps dissolve the plaque and tartar on their teeth.  (Pick the seeds out or cut away the core - the seeds have an arsenic-like toxin in them that you shouldn't give to your dog.)  Other fresh fruits and vegetables help them have pretty smiles, too.  Carrots and celery were especially noted.  Carrots for the scraping crunch and celery because the strings act a bit like dental floss.  Well, who loves their fruits and veggies?  Yup.  That'd be my boys!

Gizmo isn't as much a fan of green vegetables or big pieces of carrot, but Lightning and Jack will eat anything I hold down for them.  So they get fresh carrots and chunks of celery now and then.  And pears, melon, corn on the cob (I hold it, they bite the kernels off), green beans, snow peas, cabbage, broccoli, cucumbers, peaches, plums, blueberries, strawberries, bananas... Lightning even likes lettuce, oranges, and tomatoes.  I'm thinking he'll be hard on that future garden and orchard!

Weird things for a dog to eat, huh?

But so healthy!

2017 in Review

As 2018 is about to get itself underway, I find I’m still an accidental resident of Mount Savage, MD.  Accidental in that I never intended to be here and then when I found myself here, it was only supposed to be for a few days. That was just over a year ago.  My neighbors include a couple of giant raccoons, a fearless Momma possum, some rogue deer, and judging from the scratch marks on the deck… a black bear that wants to be a whole lot more friendly than makes me comfortable.  There’s an assortment of dogs and cats and even some humans, too.  I’ve managed to meet a few of them, even some of the people, this past year and one person, Barbara, has transformed from possibly the most negative and prickly woman I’ve ever met into a true and faithful friend.

I’ve only begun to explore my habitat but already found that Mount Savage is one of those historically significant places that no one’s ever really heard about.  Through the convergence of location and natural resource availability, it became a center of industry in the late 1800s and has fame for rolling the steel for the first railroad track ever produced in the United States. It was also a company-owned town for a time when the clay taken from the surrounding mountains produced a uniquely high-quality brick that’s still prized by collectors and those doing period-correct property restorations.  One day I want to find out more and go take some photos of the old brick ovens. I also want to check out the museum now housed in the town’s original one-cell jail built specifically to provide drunks a safe place to sleep it off.

One of the things that kept me from exploring was an accident early in the year where I badly injured my right shoulder. That ‘grounded’ me for several months. With Jack’s efforts as nursemaid, support brace, heating pad, exercise machine, and 24/7 comforter, the breaks and tears and nerve damage of a total dislocation are probably about as healed as they’re ever going to get now and it’s mostly ok.  There are some activities it inhibits, though… Like crocheting and cooking and cutting the dog’s toenails.  Those have become decidedly short-duration undertakings due to the numb fingers they trigger.  I also had to take time off school because I couldn’t get my hand up to the computer keyboard to post in discussions and write all those papers but I’m back at it now and making progress.  A few days ago I had that breakthrough moment where I actually felt competent talking Psychology and that this might be a real viable career choice for my last shot at that sort of stuff.  That was an awesome feeling!

The most exotic place I’ve been this whole year is the County dump.  It’s a unique arrangement here where you have to stop along the way at a specific Payless Drug and buy stickers to put on your trash bags.  They are $1 each and every bag needs one.  If you arrive on site without them, you’ll be ushered the 7-ish miles halfway back to town, or about the same distance on out the road to a different store in another town, to get them.  Just ask me how I know this…

I’m still being a culinary adventurer.  This year’s ‘new to me’ winner foods include quince, Sugar cakes, and Apple Pan Dowdy.  Quince is a fruit that resembles a yellow apple but has a much more perfume-like scent and taste.  I understand (now) that it’s meant to be cooked but when I found some at the grocery store I just bought one to taste and me and the boys ate it raw. I’m intrigued enough to put it in the orchard I’m imagining for my someday place… and Lightning, my resident foodie, found it delicious.  Sugar Cakes are huge, pillowy, cake-like sugar cookies.  Imagine a Lofthouse cookie and a homemade yellow cake had a round pale-faced baby… and you’re sort of close.  They can be frosted when cooled or just sprinkled with a little sugar prior to baking.  Oh, they are yummy! And Apple Pan Dowdy may be my favorite dessert ever.  It is the perfect combination of pie and bread pudding and caramelly baked apples. Where has this been my whole life?  The Sugar Cakes, Apple Pan Dowdy, and several uniquely Pennsylvania Dutch dishes like Slippery Pot Pie and Rivvel Soup are Barbara’s contribution to expanding my gastronomic curiosity.

Gizmo kissed a cat.  And the cat liked it!  Out of all my guys, his herding tendency made me worried about how he’d get on with the cats.  But he loves Crybaby, a yellow-striped tom that’s also part of this motley crew, and Crybaby loves him.  Crybaby actually likes all the boys and works hard to engage them in goofy little games much to his Mommy’s consternation…  Barbara is over-worried one of them is going to pounce “and break his back because they are so big and rough.” Yes, you just heard my eyes roll but I respect her discomfort and regularly call them off.

Plans for 2018 include finishing up the final classes for my BA in Psychology, making my final selection for grad school, and getting things underway for my MA.  My concentration area has been Social Psychology but I’ve enjoyed the Forensics classes so much more that I think that’s where I will focus my graduate work.  My other goals are pretty tightly focused on job and home and community getting adequately situated in all of them.  I also want to get back to taking little adventures and finding delight in the extraordinary details of day-to-day life that exist if I’m purposeful in paying attention to them. And if I can, I hope to sneak in some art and creative writing.  Which brings us to the goal that’s relevant to this blog: When my life isn’t all that interesting, I lose steam.  So… either I’m going to live a blog-worthy life or take the blog down in this coming year.

Always & Forever Mama's Jacky

I am so glad Jack is mine!  And so thankful Derek found him on eBay and insisted we go get him when my heart was hurting over having to return Roscoe to the shelter and I really didn't want to "replace" him the same day.  Jack has become such a friend and blessing!!  And it doesn't hurt that he has the cutest personality, and hence, lots of silly little stories...

Waiting on a treat with rapt attention in May 2014...

Jack is a lover!

Were there a pillow under his chin here, this is the view I wake up to pretty much each morning - his nose.  With his head stretched out along side mine and his hot breath in my eyeball is how we frequently welcome the day.  All night long we sleep with some part of him touching me but usually along toward morning he migrates toward the top of the bed almost like a guardian angel watching for me to wake up.  (His thoughts might be more like "Get up and feed me!" but I can always imagine right?)  Then as time moves on, Jack is the boy most likely to come rest his chin on either my lap or chest and gaze at me for loves and kisses.  Especially if they come with a little treat!  And if I'm sad, he's the first in line to lick away the tears and kiss it all better.  You really couldn't ask for a sweeter canine companion. I ask him sometimes just how they got so much sugar in one puppy...

Jack is my protector!

One afternoon there was a white cat wandering along the treeline out back.  All the boys saw it and starting barking their heads off... but Jacky was all set to protect me from this threatening intruder.  He was growling and down in his attack stance and all the hair along the ridge of his back was standing straight up!  For them to bark at birds, the occasional cottontail or even leaves moving in the breeze isn't unusual... but for my little man to get this worked up?  It got my attention.  I stood back and watched with some amusement as the cat nonchalantly made his way through the trees and up through the yard of one of the houses behind us perfectly unaware of the ruckus he (or maybe it's a she?) was causing.  Once the kitty was out of sight, the boys all settled down.  Poor Jack's back legs were shaking so hard I wondered for a minute how he stayed standing!  He was scared out of his mind but would have gone right to battle to keep me safe!!

Jack is a giant!

A sleepy Jacky... all that growing is tiring!

My baby, the last of the dogs to reach the birthday anniversary every year, will celebrate his fourth birthday in July.  He's been visibly "taller" than his bestest buddy, Lightning, since he was a year old and I was sure he would fill out some.  But just a couple of days ago, I wondered if he'd gotten taller still! Gizmo can walk underneath him without crouching down at all.  Line the three of them up side by side and it's like a staircase... Jack has the longest legs! But he still won't jump and has to be boosted into the back of the car.

Jack is a clown!

A rousing match of mouth wrestling is in progress.

The way my boys play can be a little unnerving to the uninitiated... I sort of like to call this shot "The Gaping Jaws of Hell." It's Lightning and Jack playing together - mouth wrestling. They never actually bite each other, just open their mouths wide and growl and make other unusual vocalizations as part of a full body contact wrestling match.  Even when they put their mouth over the other's head or neck or other reachable body part, their jaws never close and their body language, wagging tail and happy facial expressions, tells me they are having fun.  This isn't how Jack usually plays with Gizmo, though.  And that's much to Gizzy's dismay.  It's almost like Jacky recognizes that Giz is only half his size and he spends a lot more time down on his elbows or rolling around wrestling in a gentler way.

This is Jack shortly after we brought him home.  Lightning was so excited to have a new puppy and turned into the best big brother/babysitter... His face seemed to say "A puppy!!!  Thank you Mommy for getting me the greatest toy ever made!!"

Baby Jack... He still fit in my arms and on my lap!

And this is him just a couple of months ago...  Just like all Mommies, I'm asking "why must they grow up so fast?"

Big boy Jack... but still my baby!

I sure do love you, baby boy!!

Adventures in Pain Management

You know how the triage nurse, then the nurse, then the doctor, then every other health professional you encounter asks you, in a very flat way, to rate your level of pain following an injury? Their scale is usually 1-10, with 1 being pretty ok and 10 being the worst pain ever. I usually answer just as flatly "5" because I don't know quite what to say. That. And by the third or fourth time I'm out of patience and looking at them as a bigger pain than whatever has me in enough discomfort to be there. (I know... I'm a "difficult" patient. And I don't give a flying you know what about having that label.)

How do you rate something that's such a personal experience into terms someone else can understand and identify with anyway? We all handle pain differently. Personally, I don't even like to even think about it... Sadly, I've been having an adventure in pain control the past couple of weeks and spending a lot of time with hurting on my mind.  Maybe it's a bit sadistic, but to keep me entertained through the ordeal I came up with my own scale to more colorfully tell my tale of woe and agony.

Don't you think you've got a better idea of how I'm feeling when you hear me grunting my way through the room than me shrugging and saying "5?"

HOW IT HAPPENED

It's the dogs' fault. No, really, it's my fault. I knew I didn't have a safe hold on the leashes with my left hand when were exiting the car after a shopping trip and stop at the dog park. I knew it but I didn't stop to change how I was holding them when we were going inside so when the three of them made a concerted lunge for the porch, down I went. Face first. In the muddy patch on the side of the driveway. And if insult wasn't enough... I reached out to grab the support post that helps to hold up the porch with my right hand in an attempt to not fall. 260-ish pounds of solid and determined pure muscle are no match for my flabby slightly off-balance self...  So while my body felt nigh unto catapulted into Pennsylvania (which is really just a few yards up the hill) my right arm was mangled and flopping in the Maryland mud next to my broken glasses (which Walmart fixed for free even though I didn't buy them there). Then, even though I was literally seeing enough stars to organize my own galaxy from the pain and my arm could just hang there immovable, I still managed to finally get myself upright, put the boys in the house, finish unloading the car, take a shower and shimmy into clean clothes.

Then I started to wonder how bad I was really injured.  I think it's a sprain. It's starting to get better. The first few days, improvement was very small and measured by being able to lift my arm an inch or so.  Yesterday and today have been a little more dramatic as far as strength to lift it up and range to move forward and back and side-to-side. It's especially noticable early in the day while I'm well rested that I can move it further and easier than yesterday. By the end of the day I'm pretty hurty again, though, from trying to do as much as I can for myself. I'm ready for it to be completely recovered and it's not and that makes me complain that it's going slow. I need to put some effort into being satisfied that there is progress... and that things, like pulling my pants back up in the bathroom, that have been supremely challenging are getting easier.  Which is good since it's kind of frowned on to go pantsless most places!

My pain has been all up and down that scale every day.  Now, at day 12, it's hovering mostly around Take a handful of Advil and Breathe like a prego lady. I think I'm managing it pretty well.

But I still wish the pain would just go away!

That Year End Wrap Up Post

2016 started out hopeful... kind of went straight to hell from there but ended on a decent note.  I gained many experiences.  I'm going to trust that the ones I didn't enjoy and don't see the reason for are truly needful in some plan bigger than me.

So just what did I do?

I started saying "YES" to the adventures that presented themselves.  I went out and explored myself instead of waiting for a human companion.  I took more pictures because this world is an icredibly beautiful place.  I talked to strangers and listened to their stories of how life led them from where they were to where they are now.  I healed my soul a bit more and got a little closer to actually being me again.

I experienced some firsts. Even at my age there are lots of first times left!

• visited 13 states - AL, SC, VA, MD, WV, and PA for the first time
• tasted hominy, sauerkraut, bok choy, fish sauce and persimmon
• tried some new combinations of food - kidney beans and potatoes fried together, turnips cooked with beef, potatoes, onion, celery and carrots in a pressure cooker (I'd always eaten them raw from my Dad's garden before), a Pennsylvania Dutch dish called Slippery Pot Pie, and Vinegar Cake
• lived without running water or electricity for 3 months in a semi-remote mountain setting
• showered at a truck stop (I didn't even know you could before this experience!)
• drove a box (moving) truck
• had to ask for a jump when I ran my car battery out
• gave a jump to a stranger who was stranded alongside the road having done the same
• made blueberry jam (never lived where a bush grew in the yard before and I'm too cheap to buy them!)
• got the car stuck, and luckily unstuck, in the mud a few times
• learned to clip the dog's nails by myself

I also did some things again that I hadn't for a long long time...

• bathed in a creek
• pooped in an outhouse
• shot a pistol
• observed wildlife up close - mostly deer, wild turkey and a variety of other birds
• blogged a bit more regularly (at least toward the end of the year)
• picked enough wild blackberries and black raspberries to make jam
• experienced a Ward/Stake split/reorganization at Church
• took a course where I struggled hard to learn the material (thinking I will go out of  my way to avoid using it forever more - it was that hateful!)
• read the Book of Mormon
• forgave someone who was very hard to forgive

And I even did one thing that I'd sworn never again... moved to a place where winters are cold and snowy.

I've marveled repeatedly at just how adaptable, accepting, and forgiving my dogs are... troopers through thick and thin. They amaze and inspire me daily to try harder and do better and grow up to have their attitude about just taking life as it comes.

I failed friends.  Circumstances changed suddenly and I didn't/couldn't do what I promised and I'm still scrambling to get that set right. And friends failed me. Different ones in different ways. It hurts but I still love them and want them in my life so I'll get over it.

I've been scared. And sad, And lonely at times. I've had people worry about me. And I've wondered myself if I'm ever going to get me put back together and rebuild an entire life and future.

I've also felt peace and love and hope and connection.

And, again, declared the coming year to be THE YEAR OF ME!

This Place is Trying to Kill Me!

I swear it is!

Let me tell you about the string of mishaps this past week.  First off, we've had about 10 days of mostly wet weather so the ground is quite soft and mushy. Again.  Mud is my constant companion.  And enemy.  I've decided I dislike mud almost as much as snow... slimy, slippery, oozing over the top of my shoes mud everywhere.  I don't have a single kind word to say about it and after it introduced itself to my bottom (clad in clean pants no less!) a couple of times I refuse to even try to find kind words about it!

It's made the main drive into what I now refer to as Deathtrap #1.  There's a part of it where one side is a steep 4 or 5-foot embankment, the other drops off 10-12 feet to a tributary creek, and the part where your car needs to be is... mud.  It's only that way for a few yards but a few yards is plenty!  My back wheels find absolutely nothing to grip through here so I fishtail wildly.  Usually falling short of making the top, I slide backwards down the hill until  my tires can grab on some stray bits of grass convinced that if that drop off doesn't kill me I will be injured badly enough to wish it had.  By the time I make several tries and fling enough mud to crest that little rise and roll on up to the cabin, my hands are shaking and I've screamed a rather creative string of profanities.

As an alternative, Jason showed me where to turn off by one of the natural gas wells and come up the back way through a pasture.  A couple of days ago, that presented itself as Deathtrap #2.  There's a specific spot where the car is tipped so far to the side that I'm scared I will roll so I've been going around it, just a few feet lower around some young trees. I spun out there and slid backward down the hill.  By the time I got the slide under control, my back wheels were about 6 inches from the edge of the high creek bank.  It took 45 minutes of inching forward and back and desperately trying to convince God this was not a good day for me to die to get the car turned sideways so I could back up enough to find a different angle to get up and around that corner of the fence. I did it!  Mud put up a heck of a battle that day, but I won!!  And when I got to my parking spot next to the cabin, I sat there for a few minutes shaking and saying a prayer of thanksgiving.

I also have to tell you about Gizmo's new habit.  He has taken to grunting when he wants something.  It's a deep, gravely, irritating sort of grunt and then he raises his little eyebrows and stares off into space with a coyly innocent expression while I try to devine what it is he wants.  Outside, food, water, a treat, a R-I-D-E to the P-A-R-K... it all gets the exact same grunt.  He woke me up with the grunt a few nights ago.  I figured out that he was going to barf pretty quickly and struggled to get Jack and Lightning off me so I could jump up and open the door.  The doorknob fell off in my hand.  And Gizmo did not get out in time...  Is there anything more disgusting than cleaning up a giant dog barf in the middle of the night?  Unfortunately, yes.  There's the part about fighting him back from eating it, as if round 2 is going to sit any better in his tummy, while you clean it up.

After a half hour of fidgeting around I did get the knob to slide into place but it's still coming off about every third time I need to open the door.  Mostly that's just a nuisance but it has potential to make a real problem into something even worse.

Like last night.

I was feeling rather pleased with myself for beating mud at its own game 2 days in a row and wanted to sit down and peacefully sip a cup of cocoa before bed... I put a pan with some water on the Coleman burner and proceeded to put the hot chocolate mix in my cup.  I've said before that thing ain't right... but Jason can't find a problem and dismisses my discomfort with using that flaming little burner.  So I grit my teeth and so far have managed to cook a few meals on it. I still say that thing ain't right!  I think it might be possessed and whatever is in there sure as heck doesn't answer to "Genie!"  It flamed out. Again.  This time worse than ever before... It spit up fuel like a fussy baby which caught fire all over the top of the dry sink and nearly lit up my sleeve while I tried to shut it off and smother the flames with a damp towel. The flames jumped to the floor this time so I did a little dance stomping them out. And I managed to burn a dishcloth, too.  Not just a little singe on the edge either... half the dishcloth is a gaping black hole.  And the cabin is filled with the acrid and ever attractive scent of Eau de Ashes.  Or is it Charcoal #5?

I think it's time for a new adventure.  And this next one really must include a hot shower, a real indoor toilet, and a fully functioning kitchen!  I've proved I can survive an off-grid prepper sort of existence.  Maybe not thrive in it, but I can survive.  And that's good enough for  me.

5 Minutes You'll Never Get Back

Last night as we were getting settled in bed Gizmo decided he needed to snuggle. He may be all sorts of wonderful but a snuggle dog Gizmo is not... He just doesn't have that soft, squishy, comfortable-to-cuddle-on-your-lap kind of body and he doesn't usually even try but every now and then he decides you are in desperate need of a dose of his kind of lovin' and heaven help you, there's not a darn thing you can do about it. You will be Gizzered!

Gizmo, November 11, 2016

Last night was my lucky night...

He took a mighty leap at my side and ended up clinging for dear life with his front legs wrapped over the top of my head and the rest of his body hanging down past my shoulder. His embrace felt more like being trapped in the clenches of a love sick baboon than something pleasant, but I love my little dude so I endured it. Jack was sound asleep and snoring by my other knee already folded into as neat a little ball as a 100-lb Doberman can get which is, actually, surprisingly compact. And in that moment, for no apparent reason whatsoever, I got the giggles. Like out of control, could not stop, shrieking-at-the-top-of-my-lungs kind of giggles proving once again that I am awfully easy to keep entertained. Anyway, I laughed so hard there were tears running down my face. I was gasping for breath and probably turning blue from lack of oxygen. I laughed so hard I almost threw up. Lightning was so worried! He kept stomping round and round and over the top of me, crushing a lung in the process, and sniffing at my face. His expression was utter confusion about what was wrong with me. I guess I don't indulge in a good hard laugh often enough... I guess that needs to change!

Jack, November 11, 2016

After I finally got myself under control, and Gizmo off of me, I decided I was hungry and deserved a snack for surviving such a most excellent workout. I've been very good and didn't even buy any easy-grab-and-snack-junky stuff on the last grocery run so I had to resort to one of my Mom's standby munchies: buttered saltines. Yeah, I know. Ew! Could there be a food that tastes more like cardboard? And butter "just greases it up so it slides better," as she used to say. My Mom buttered everything. Everything. Even pepperoni pizza. But I digress... We were snacking on crackers (which I don't even like except with chili and then it's more like I have a little chili with my bowl of crushed up crackers) and Lightning burps like a third grader in a school yard contest. I swear if he knew how, that was a burp where he could have got the whole alphabet out. He looked as surprised by it as I was!

Lightning, November 11, 2016

To celebrate his utter lack of good manners and top the evening off, I took on the challenge of getting all 3 boys to howl at the moon with me. Not an easy fete! It's like they know howling is a talent that they missed the heavenly line up to get for this lifetime so it takes some serious effort to get an "owoooooo" going. And they still sound more like strangling goats than anything... Is it sad that I have a better howl than my dog? True story!

If you're still reading you've either laughed with me at least once or I just succeeded in wasting 5 minutes of your life that you've got no chance of ever getting back.  Either way...

Thanks for sharing in my bit of ridiculousness!!

The Clipping of the Toe Nails

Should I suddenly and mysteriously die, the coroner tasked with figuring out why would wonder about all the scratches and gashes and bruises and punctures on my body and probably formulate a theory about ritualistic torture.  S/he’d be wrong… but circumstantial evidence would certainly point toward that being a viable theory.  The dog’s nails are even longer now than when I last asked the vet to clip them during a visit and he declined saying they’d wear down naturally as the boys were outside running around more over the summer.  That may be a perfectly true statement if they went out on a paved surface.  I can see how concrete would act as a kind of rasp and keep their nails down to a reasonable length.  But they are on grass.  And grass doesn’t make much of a file.  And their nails are now very long and very sharp!  They’ve pretty much become deadly weapons… And I am getting badly abused as we play and snuggle and jostle for sleeping position.

“Ouch!!” and “Owe baby… your wicked talons are ripping my flesh open so my guts will spill out and I will die and THEN who will feed you and drive you places?” have become way too frequent and dramatic exclamations around here.  Reaching for something to wipe up a trickle of blood as it runs down my leg has also become way too frequent of an occurrence.  And the amount of peroxide I buy to get blood stains out of my clothes is starting to garner me suspicious glances! I have the scars to back up one whale of a tall tale should I ever want to tell one!

It was time for me to get over this little fear and clip their nails myself.

I found this picture on Pinterest but the link leads to a dead blog...
leaving me with a really good illustration but no one to credit for its
creation.  Anonymous Wise Person, thank you!

So I went through all the preparations.  I studied up on clippers and techniques and safety precautions.  I gathered my tools.  I steeled my resolve.  And I wrangled Jack into position.

And clip.  Clip, clip, clip. One paw done.  He didn't pull away at all.  He just sat there, leaned down to sniff the clipper once, and watched me clip away.  The other 3 feet were done the same way.  His ONLY reaction was the expression on his face that said "Jack don't give a [insert your your favorite inflammatory exclamation here]!"  Lightning was curious about the sound and thought the little clipped ends that went flying would make a good snack.  He was probably also jealous that Jack was the center of my attention for those few minutes... the jealousy is strong between those two!  He tried to push his way in a couple of times.  My only struggle with clipping Jack's nails was making Lightning wait for his turn.  And then he sat there for me just as patiently.  Gizmo was the only objector... but he's afraid of pretty much everything so that shouldn't be a huge surprise, I guess.  It took a couple of treats, some soothing words, and a little longer but his nails are done, too, without a lot of undue fuss.

Honestly, clipping their toe nails is easier than clipping my own!

All that build up.  All the people telling me it was such a big deal - a difficult and dangerous and odious task better left to veterinarians and groomers who are trained to do it. All that time I spent worried about hurting them, or me!  Why?  I was thinking I would get to impress you mastering a new skill and it just ended up being no big deal.  I feel robbed.  Totally let down and deflated.  (Yes, I'm exaggerating!)  Either I have the most stupendously wonderful dogs in the whole world or this whole nail clipping thing is scam to steal your money!  It's probably that I've got really great dogs!!

There are a couple of things I learned worth passing along, though:

• Take some time to touch your dogs feet and get them comfortable with their paws being handled.  Don't stick your fingers in between their toes, though.  That's one of those ticklish in an uncomfortable way, and it might get you bit, kind of places for many dogs.
• Figure out how to identify the "quick."  It's the fleshy bit on the inside where the blood vessel is.  If you cut it, there will be blood.  And pain.  And you'll probably feel even worse about doing it than the dog does!! But it's not the end of the world if you do nick it.
• Learn the very simple first aid steps to deal with a cut to the quick.  You can get styptic powder from a pet supply (or maybe even a barber? I remember my Dad had a "styptic stic" in his shaving stuff.) or even use baking soda, cornstarch or a quick rub with a clean bar of soap to stop the bleeding.
• Handle the clippers a bit before you touch the dog with them.  Get used to how they feel in your hands and how the handles and blade move. You'll jump if you get pinched using them and when you jump your dog will jump, too.
• Be calm.  Talk to your dog is confident soothing tones so they have the cues to relax and be confident you aren't hurting them.  Use treats to reward good behavior.

Mountwood Park

Yes, that's rain blurring my picture of the entrance sign.  Yes, we pick crazy days to go explore... But we were all restless and feeling in need of some away from the cabin (or McDonald's doing my homework) time and so we went.  On the way out I messaged my friend and asked him to choose a direction for us.  He picked west.  So we hopped on Highway 50 headed toward Parkersburg looking for something interesting to go explore.  Mountwood Park was the first brown sign I saw, so we turned off toward a place named Volcano and drove along a nice little lake.

Boat rentals and launch site.

I was kind of excited to see the boat rentals!  One of these days health and bravery and adventure are going to coincide and I will go kayaking.  Keeping the possibility close is a good reminder of that goal for me.  I stopped to read all the historic markers (yes, I'm a geek like that) around the parking lot and learned a little more about the early days of the gas and oil industry in West Virginia. We all had to go to the bathroom but first we had to herd geese for a good ways.  They were healthy looking Canadian Geese who didn't seem afraid of the car or even of my maniac barking dogs, but they were cautious enough to stay ahead of us as I slowly drove to where the public restrooms were located.

Actually, they stayed with us for most of the rest of our visit and acted like a welcoming committee!

This marker, at the park's first parking lot entrance, talks about the early oil wells in the area.  Volcano, which is a couple of miles up the canyon was the first oil town in the area.

At the next marker, I learned more about some of the early technology of transporting oil and gas down the canyon.  By today's standards pumping 100 barrels might not seem like much, but then it was a lot.  William Cooper Stiles, Jr., who developed the area designed an endless cable system modeled after the mechanics of Philadelphia street cars to pump oil through a pipeline down to where it could be transported to refineries about 15 miles away.  Interesting perspective on progress and technology.

If you can't quite picture how that works, take a look at one of the pulleys that's been saved.  Imagine a series of them rotating as a heavy steel cable pulls around the edges and moves pump parts pushing crude down a pipeline to the mouth of the canyon.  It seems like quite an engineering feat!

A pulley for the original endless cable
system used to move oil and gas down
the canyon from Volcano to transport to
refineries in other locations. 

Next, we drove up the other side of the lake past the fishing pier and found a trailhead for a short hike up to Thornhill.  Thornhill is the mansion Mr. Stiles built for his family on a ridge overlooking the lake. (It was too wet to try that 3/4 mile yesterday and my guys are too maniac for me to handle on that kind of trip anyway so it's on the list for a future adventure!)

The fishing pier at Mountwood Park.

Finally, we ventured a little farther up the canyon and through most of the rest of the park.  At the Administration Building, we learned more about Mr. Stiles from this marker.  It says, "William Cooper Stiles, Jr. born in Philadelphia on July 27, 1839, was one of the earliest operators of the West Virginia and Ohio oil fields.  Mr. Stiles traveled to the White Oak region of WV in 1864 where he purchased several thousand acres and began drilling. After an ominous start, Mr. Stiles made a major strike and later revolutionized the oil industry through the introduction of the endless cable pumping system, an application conceived from the cable system powering the street cars in Philadelphia.  Mr. Stiles built the Volcanic Oil and Coal company into a major force in the local oil industry.  In 1866 at a cost of $160,000 he was the driving force in the building of the Laurel Fork and Sand Hill Railroad, a standard gauge rail system for transporting oil to refineries in Parkersburg. For his major contributions to Volcano, Mr. Stiles was known as the "father of Volcano." He also served as a county commissioner from 1881 to 1885.  W.C. Stiles, Jr. died at his beloved Thornhill on December 17, 1896."

I'd seen a couple of signs for a dog park and we had just a little break in the rain so we kept going and...

The patron saint of city dogs (if there's not one designated, there should be!) smiled down on my pretend country boys!! We found a near perfect match for their old dog park in Georgia. The rain started back up but they still took a deliriously happy romp!  It's far enough to require a little thought about going but not so far that it's going to be impossible as an occasional treat.  I'm happy there's something available that makes them so happy!

Lightning and Gizmo paused at the same
tree during their first dog park visit
in a month!

By this point, I'd seen so many references to Volcano that I was thinking it must surely still be a town... And I was curious.  Once the dogs were thoroughly soaked and willing to give up on running in their park, we drove on for probably another 5 miles.  I guess Volcano today is 3-4 houses close enough to throw rocks into each others' yards.  Kind of a sad discovery after all the build up.  But one of them did have a mailbox that I am now coveting like a mad woman!

With the addition of front wheels..
My farmer fetish is wailing
I WANT ONE!

Adventures of the Canine Kind

Lest you think I’m the one having all the fun…  The boys have been having some adventures all their own.

Despite their firm resolution that water is meant for drinking, they’ve been ‘swimming’ in the creek a couple of times.  Shhh… don’t tell them it was a bath.  Swimming sounds so much more adventurous!  Jack is an especially good swimmer.  He can cover the width of the swimming hole in just a couple of strokes.  Lightning stands on the bottom with his back legs and paddles furiously with his front paws – basically going nowhere but splashing an amazing amount of water.  And like nearly everything else in life, Gizmo just plods along at slow and steady pace, unruffled and happy to be with you.

And here’s photographic proof taken this morning that they are here and healthy.  These are the expectant faces trying to convey the message that they like strawberry pop tarts, too, and that they really truly deserve a bite off mine.  The looks were more intense until I grabbed the camera. I guess it just doesn’t rattle the same as that silvery pastry wrapper.

We were here, at the cabin, for a few days at the beginning of the month and then down in the Hagerstown MD area for about 2 weeks.  I came back up this past Wednesday.  Lightning remembered.  And coming down the lane that would unnerve a less intrepid woman, he started his “we are at the dog park” yowling.  The closer to the cabin we got, the louder he got.  And you know it… the other two couldn’t stand being out-yowled so they joined in, each upping the intensity of their carrying on. Pretty soon I didn’t know if I was bouncing and tipping back and forth from their dances or from the road!!  I think it’s safe to say they are happy up here.

Each has made some escape attempts, though.  I keep trying to tell them that we are only pretend country and this is real country up here and they just don’t have the knowledge and skills to survive like country dogs.  They look at me like I’m saying some awful purty-toned “blah blah blah… blah blah blah blah.” And then they haul butt to explore.  Every weed and tree and fence post is new and the scents are simply intoxicating to their canine sensibilities and must be sniffed out.  And marked as their own. They don’t grasp that I’d be really sad if they became some black bear’s midnight snack!

And I know they wouldn’t have the sense to back down and run the other way if they saw a bear...

Or leave the snakes alone…

Or stay off the highway if they happened to wander that far…

Or away from another house where they could be shot as an unwanted stray...

Or out of trash cans and away from assorted dead rodents…

See what I mean by pretend country?  We may have been in a semi-rural looking area in Georgia, but we lived like we were in the city.  My guys are basically dumbed-down, pampered, house dogs.

Last night was Gizmo’s shot at being the evil bad dawg… He ran off.  That boy hauled himself down to the creek, over the bridge and up the other lane on our turnoff to chase chickens.  There’s a house painted a striking shade of sky blue not far up that little road.  And there are hundreds of chickens and guineas wandering around there.  (I may be exaggerating again, but there are a lot!) I’m going to guess that the birds have turned mostly wild because of the number free ranging along the road and each hen is herding a good sized brood of chicks.  I wouldn’t expect the number or all those hatchlings in a domestic flock, especially at this time of year.  I wanted to knock him right into next month for that stunt.  I didn’t.  But I sure wanted to in those moments I was dragging him back to the car away from “Squawkfest 2016.”

Disaster Preparedness for Pets

I have pampered house dogs.  They are like my furry kids.  Were something horrible to happen, I would most certainly take them with me on any evacuation order.  That's an absolute.  If they weren't welcome, I wouldn't go either. With that commitment comes the requirement to be prepared to bug them out.  And that takes some thought about what they need and why.  Some things they will need for their own safety and comfort and some things for the safety and comfort of other people you may be around.

I admit, I hadn't given it a lot of thought until this was posted in one of my Facebook groups.  It bears sharing and gives you some things to think about.  One of my first questions was what goes in a doggie first aid kit...  A group member supplied a link to some pre-made ones you can purchase but as I looked through them I realized the contents are the same as you would include in your human first aid kit.  This is is totally doable as a DIY  project.  The main benefit in the dog having his own would be that he can help carry the supplies and then they are right where you need them should you have to put the supplies to use.

Another article I was pointed to that gives some valuable advice is Saving Pets During Disasters.  There were several things I hadn't thought of before on their list of preparations and it pointed out some glaring holes in my plan that I now know I need to address.  Basic training being the #1 thing since my guys are not always the best little gentlemen.  We need to work on leash walking,  and the commands to stay, come and drop it.  We need to work on those things a lot!

A Visit to the Dog Park

There's a new dog park close to my house.  It's way more convenient than the one Derek and I had taken Thunder and Lightning to when they were about 6 months old... back before things went south.  My next door neighbor had told me about Coleman Camp Park and the dog park that had just been added and after getting some directions from her, me and the boys have made a couple of visits.  Here are some pictures:

Lightning saying it's the best Mommy/doggy date ever!

Inside the fenced Large Dog area looking toward the park's pavilion.

There's a splash fountain for water loving dogs to play in.
My guys act scared out of their minds when it comes on...

And there's tires to climb on and crawl through.
The way Jack and Gizmo go all commando under my bed, you'd
think they'd love this.  But you'd be wrong.  It got a couple of
sniffs and then was completely ignored.

Thunder thought drinking from the doggy drinking fountain was
the greatest thing in the history of ever.

Dog bone shaped bench.  The cutest thing for a dog park
or what?

Mostly they just galloped laps around the park.  We had it all to ourselves...  Lightning kept coming up to me with the silliest happy grin almost like he couldn't remember having so much fun before and then he'd take off again and run hard.  Jack was so worked up over the event that his back leg just shivered everytime he stood still for a moment.  And poor Gizmo whose short legs don't move so fast, wore out first from trying to keep up.  Even at home, I call him Pokey because it almost always takes him longer to get to the door to come in.

After about an hour they were all looking for shady spots to lay down in the grass so I gathered them up to go home and they crashed.  Nothing but snores for a couple of hours...  It was an awesome break!

We'll definitely be going back to this park often!

Lightning's Recovery

With a past misdiagnosis as allergies (from the Banfield in Kennesaw's Petsmart) resulting in feeding him daily antihistamines in vain for nearly a year while my sweet Lightning-bug suffered with pretty severe Entropion (inward turned eyelids) top and bottom on both eyes, he finally got the right diagnosis for his problem and had corrective surgery for it the morning of March 4th. Clay Leathers at New Hope Animal Hospital is our vet now and I like him so much I'd go to him if he'd see me! Before the surgery Lightning's eyelashes were rubbing on his eyeballs and causing a lot of irritation, swelling, tears and pain. To greatly simplify Dr. Leathers explanation: the procedure involves cutting a half moon shaped piece of skin from around the eye and then suturing it to force the eyelid into the correct position.

Lightning's got pain medication, an ointment to help with the itch and swelling while his eyes heal and an antibiotic that the pharmacy had me shaking my head over.  Who writes those drug information sheets they staple to your bag?  The pharmacist was chatty and bragging about how all that information is so helpful and they are happy to offer that level of 'personalized service' to their customers... After I gave my boy the first dose, I sat down and read it.  Adverse reactions I'm supposed to watch for: vaginal irritation and discharge.  I couldn't help but think to myself, "Now THAT would be a much bigger problem than a drug reaction for HIM!"  So much for 'personalized,' huh?

This is him (cropped out of a group photo with Jack and Gizmo) a few months ago when he was on Benadryl.  You can see there's something wrong...  It almost makes my eyes hurt to look at this again.

And this is a few days before the surgery when he'd had the ointment put in his eyes for a couple of weeks so Dr. Leathers could gage how much correction was needed.  He looks so stoic... sad but resigned to this is how things are.  Dogs have such good attitudes!


Recovery is going well, I think.

Day 1:  His eyes are open and clear but they still look mightily irritated and sore. There are 4 stitches above and (if I'm counting right - the suture is the same color as his fur) 5 below each eye. Just like Dr. Leathers indicated would be the case, his upper lids appear almost normal because gravity pulls them down and close to the eye while the bottom lid seems to sag just a little. The sagging is due to being inflamed and as he heals it will go away. Lightning is resting comfortably. He's ravenously hungry and sweet and cuddly today - it's rainy and yucky so it's a good day to curl up in the bed and do some reading anyway! And he's mostly stopped fighting the e-collar (although he's not yet figured out that big thing around his head means he needs a much wider turning radius to keep it from catching on the door frames, steps... my backside).

Day 2:  Scabs are forming around his sutures and they look a little crusty and weepy, which is normal for my experience having stitches and from everything I read about this kind of surgery beforehand, so I'm leaving it be.  Lightning is spending more time out of the e-collar... only putting it on him for a bit when he gets insistent about rubbing his face.  His energy level is up and he's running and playing with Jack and Gizmo and looking happier than he's seemed in a long time!

Day 3:  There's no visible difference from yesterday but his demeanor, energy level and patience with Jacky squirming and slurping on his face for attention are much better!  He finally got to spend the majority of the day out of the cone...

Day 4:  We're done with that oversized Elizabethan thing!  Yay!!  He's enjoying the freedom and I have to admit I'm liking not getting it jammed in my bum every few steps, too.  Lightning is walking around in wide-eyed wonder at all the things he can see now.  He's sweet and playful and all day I've only heard one minor warning growl when he thought Gizmo was going to swoop in and get his treat.  So nice to have more play and less grrrrrr!

Days 5-7:  He's still looking at things like he's seeing them for the first time and can hardly take it all in fast enough.  It makes my heart glad to see him so much happier...  We went on a little Momma/Doggie date.  He loves to be in the car and he LOVES the chicken nuggets from McDonald's $1 menu so the date was a huge success!

Day 8:  The stitches are more visible today so the swelling must be going down some.  And they have nice clean scabs.  Sadly those scabs itch and Lightning is rubbing his face a lot again.  Stopping him as much as I can and keeping a close watch on him but I think he's healed enough that they will be okay unless he gets really vigorous about it.  His eyes are also starting to lose some of their bloodshot look.  Happy, affectionate and handsome!  How did I get to be such a lucky doggie momma?

Day 9-13:  Each day the incisions look just a little bit better.  If I'd actually taken a photo every morning, as I'd intended in the beginning, you'd see the change is almost imperceptible day-to-day but looking back from now to day 5 is a huge difference!  I'm so glad we had this procedure done!!  He looks so much happier about life, too!

Day 14:  The medicine is all done and the stitches are out!  Sadly, a few hours later, right at the end of the work day, I see the incision is opening up.  A quick call to the vet and email him this picture and sure enough... back in the cone and fasting tonight and he has a 7:30 am appointment tomorrow.  No sleeping in for this boy.  Or me.

My poor lil' "coney dog!"

When Rover Goes Missing

We've all been drilled in this modern day to microchip our pets so it's easier to find them if they should go missing.  Today, with the ulterior motive of finding out how to update the contact information, I asked the vet how they work.  And he was gracious enough to spend 20 minutes or so educating me and checking Lightning, Jack and Gizmo for chips.

Jack doesn't have one.  Or the one that the folks at Banfield inserted in his scruff is faulty and doesn't read.  No... I won't go on another rant about just how much I hate them.  I do hate them!  I'm just sparing you the rant about it.  Lightning and Gizmo, and Thunder I presume though he wasn't with us to check, have chips made and/or maintained by a company called Home Again.  I don't have the other names, but he said they are one of several companies to offer this service.

What got me thinking about this was the bill I got awhile back for Gizmo's chip.

Home Again wants $18.97 each year.  That made me worry that they could somehow 'turn off' the chip so he couldn't be scanned at a vet or shelter were he to be picked up loose somewhere...  That's kind of what the bill led me to believe and it made me a little nervous.  I thought it was outrageous!  Better to look dumb and be sure than end up with a problem down the road, so I asked about it.

The vet explained the yearly fee is for their 'location service.'  In a nutshell, when your pet goes missing you alert them and send them a recent picture so they can prepare fliers for you to print and post in your neighborhood and they fax the information to area vets and shelters.  I have a computer and the minimal skills needed to make a flier and I can place a few phone calls...  He agreed that the yearly fee is pretty much a rip off.  He also said that 5 times more lost pets are reunited with their families because of Facebook postings than those fliers.  Once the chip is there, it's there.  You may, depending on the brand, have to pay to register it and, again depending on the brand, update your contact information.  But unless you move or change phone numbers, the location service is a needless extra charge and not something you have to subscribe to in order for the chip to be active.

If you don't update your information, the chip will point the organization searching for you to claim your lost pet to the vet who originally purchased it and hopefully they will be able to reach you.  The biggest problem with this is if your pet is hurt at night or on a weekend while out on his (or her?) adventure and they can't reach the vet's office.  Most shelters will NOT provide even basic life saving care while you are being sought...

So tonight I'm updating the address and phone number on their microchips.  And 2 years down the road trying to register Thunder's and Lightning's chips because, even though Banfield was paid for that, it wasn't done.  Yay.  And yay, again, Jack will have to be chipped when I scrape up another $40 for it.

In the vets office, he brought out the reader to show me how it worked. It's kind of similar to and used like the 'wand' that TSA probes you with at the airport and when it goes over the microchip it beeps and displays an alphanumeric code in the display window.  That code, much like a barcode, is the identifying information linking you to your pet in their database.  The vet or shelter staff can enter it in to the website and get an owner's contact information and pretty soon witness a happy reunion.

And that, my friends, is what I learned about microchips today.

And no... I'm not happy that I have to come up with $100 to get everyone chipped with the correct information.  It's another place where it feels like I'm needlessly hemorrhaging money that I don't have but they kind of have me over a barrell.  Now that I know that Home Again is so fee oriented I will specifically request that they not be used on any future pet.

Help! I'm Screwing Up Again

I wrote a little bit here about a painful episode in my current life where everything came crashing down around me all at the same time and my psyche couldn't take it any longer.  I sought out help.

That's still not a fully comfortable thing for me to admit.

I'm glad I did it but there's still a little part of me that wants to hold back talking much about it because of the lingering stigma of needing help with mental health issues.  Today I'm going to try and step out of that doubt and talk about therapy a bit.  I'm still seeing the therapist a couple of times a month.  And this last time he reminded me that I haven't been doing so well at keeping up my end of things...

Photo credit: http://www.dailyhiit.com/

I haven't been writing, specifically, so he gave me two assignments to write out before our next appointment.  One is what I'm calling a 'Screw Up Journal" (and no he doesn't like the title, I'm to find something more positive) detailing all the stuff I'm forgetting so that there's a record to help determine if it's just the one big screw up leading to the next and the next and on to the next one after that OR if there's a more serious underlying cause.  The other is an essay about what a happy life would look like to me.   We had talked about stability, which was seriously lacking for a long time, being key but things are somewhat more stable now and I'm still not ok.  I know what's missing:  security is the other half of the equation.  And security is still elusive.  Why must it be so very elusive?

SOME OF THE ENTRIES IN MY SCREW UP JOURNAL

About 10 days ago, my lack of focus/concentration/attention caused an incident that was very dangerous.  Potentially lethal even.  It scared me in many ways.

With absolutely nothing on my mind, truly just a total blank, I let all of the dogs out into the yard at the same time.  They don't get along.  They fight.  That's why we keep them separated and have for many months.  All along I thought I was protecting Lightning from Thunder, but... what I'm really doing is protecting Thunder from Gizmo.

Gizmo attacked.  Then Lightning and Jack jumped in.  And between the 3 of them they took Thunder down viciously.  I had to break them up or they would have killed him.  In the process I was bit at least twice, scratched and badly bruised up.  Somehow I managed to get Lightning into a headlock and restrain him with my right arm while beating Gizmo with his spiked collar that had slipped off over his head as hard as I could swing with my left.  That gave Thunder enough of a break to get out of the middle of it.  I drug Lightning and Gizmo into the house still snarling and thrashing.

All 5 of us were bloody messes.

Luckily all the wounds ended up being small enough that I could care for them at home - no trip to the vet for stitches (and explanations!).  And thankfully I kind of switched into an emergency management mindset and did what had to be done before I sat down and bawled for 3 days.

The tears were partly because my actions put my baby in harm's way and got him hurt.  All of them hurt, really.  That's a huge amount of mental anguish!  And they were partly because I was shaken to the core and crying is how I deal with stress in pretty much any situation.  I don't necessarily feel great appreciation for that feature of my personality... but that's how I've always been.  Stress me out and a river starts flowing from my instantly red and swollen eyeballs.  And still another part of the tears came from fear... Fear of disappointing Derek and fear of having him see me as the utter failure of a human being that I felt like.

The next day, I tried to unsheath a knife that was not sheathed.  The particular angle of the blade in my hand didn't cut... but it had the potential of leaving a deep slice across my entire palm.

The day after that I walked away and totally forgot until the smell got to me that I had food cooking on the stovetop.  Yup, this Idaho girl burned the potatoes... literally.

These 3 incidents we discussed in the session along with the thought that I was feeling like a danger to myself and others.  That's the 'why' behind keeping a record.  Did the one big screw up have me so stressed out and worrying about screwing up that I subconsciously sabotaged myself into the others?  Or is there something more messed up going on inside my brain?

Sadly, my run of screw ups continues.

Coming home from my therapy session last Friday I nearly drove head on into a semi-truck.  It was purple.  And that distracted me from keeping my eyes, and mind, on the road.

Yesterday I nearly cut down the blackberries and tried to replant the poison ivy because I doubted my identification of which was which.  The leaves are somewhat similar in appearance but not in how your skin reacts to contact with them!

I hope we can fix this before someone is seriously hurt or, God forbid, dies from my mindlessness...