Tag Archives: animals

Story is cruising into retirement!

Posted on by
12

It’s time to change things up for Story, here is wishing him a brilliant retirement!

I wasn’t in the market for a puppy. Not really, but if you are a dog person you kind of always are to be honest. Franny was around five years old or so, Ocean almost three, we were hitting our stride. Franny was trail running with Spore every day, Ocean and I competing in herding, agility and freestyle almost every weekend and more.

And then I saw an article in the paper, “Quality Border Collie Pups”. I had never seen them listed that way, and was curious so I called. The call led to a four hour visit, the visit led to an additional phone call, and a few days later we met half way and brought Story home. We were the first non-ranch home to be approved for one of her puppies. I promised to give him a rock star life and to use his working abilities, he would be more than a pet.

Baby story

He came from the Ross line of border collies, a Scottish line, and a fine one I might add. Not a single dam thing wrong with these dogs. Solid in every which way.  A gift.

His litter name was ‘Jig’, because his markings looked like a jigsaw puzzle. The kids named him Story B. Jones. It was a combination of a story book series that my children were reading at the time, and their love of books. To me it was perfectly pimpish, I loved it.

He was my first dog that was strong, out going, athletic, super social, and 100% comfortable in his own skin. Nothing to modify, life was good, so we had unlimited time to train, train to my hearts content, and it turns out Story’s. I had never had a solid dog of my own, solid on every level. Rock On!

So we went to town doing everything, literally. My immediate goal was owner trained Service Dog. I was working through some limiting health issues at the time, so this was an awesome fit. The cool thing about this journey was that I did everything with him, exposed him to more than my other dogs had ever seen, and involved myself in several sports to keep him flexible, both mentally and physically. After 18 months he pretty much let me know Service Dog worked sucked for him, he was way to social, and wanted work that was more explosive and dynamic. I am so glad I was working in other areas at the same time as it let us continue right along with training without missing a step.

Agility was super fun with Story. He went from polite and accurate to running like a steam train. Power, force, 100% each and every time! You could feel his energy on course, I loved it, every minute.

287782_10150751171605175_443792425174_20578912_2741446_o

Herding, well he did it all without me doing anything. He was amazing and breath taking to watch on stock. Balanced, settled, great distance, and powerful. He never had problems with green sheep or rams. He worked them all the same, and they all listened. This is something I wish we had put more time into.

Freestyle, this was our thing. Story and I came together and really blossomed with freestyle training. The creativity, the complex sequences, and the focus. He was honored, at 17 months of age, with a guest appearance on the Martha Stewart Show. It still makes me smile that at his youthful age he handled that whole experience in stride, like he was born for it. He made me smile through that whole journey!

Martha Stewart

And then along came treibball. This has been the only sport Story was not initially excited about. He was disgusted that I would actually ask him to put his face on the ball. I had to slow down with this sport and wait for him, make it worth his while. And now, two years later, he is an awesome player, a World Pusher with the World Treibball League!

small ball

Story’s image has graced newspaper and magazine articles, and has been part of our advertising campaign for the Scent Project. This image is one of my favorites from early in our freestyle training, and appeared in the Bozeman Chronicle.

me & story

Story has worked with hundreds of our clients dogs, from puppies and adolescents, to dogs that didn’t trust other dogs, or had reactivity issues. He has such a lovely way of greeting dogs and knowing when he can move forward, and when he should give more space. Since he has not an ounce of malice intent, he seemed to be able to put most dogs at ease, some actually learned to play again. But about two weeks ago he let me know he was done with this type of work. He looked out the car door at the dog we were going to be working with, and I swear I heard him say to the other dog, “sorry, you’re on your own dude”. He crawled into the back seat and that is all the information I needed to have. Retirement, lounging, hiking, treibball, a demo here and there, it made me smile, it was time.

Story has worked in -

196 puppy classes

97 adolescent classes

116 freestyle classes

28 agility classes

402 private trainings as a stimulus or trigger dog

He has had an amazing career, possibly more to come but in a much less stressful way. We are changing gears! So here is to my big, brilliant, and beautiful boy, Story. You are a gift each and every day. Love to you, all the way around!

100_0062

click on a photo and then follow the arrows!

time poor

Posted on by
7

When Spore and I started our lives together, we decided that we wanted to live simply. We found out pretty quickly that our vision of simple was quite different. Spore was thinking cave man homesteader, pull away from society, live off the land, tree bark for toilet paper kind of simple. I was thinking no TV and walk to work simple.

Compromise. We had to learn it in spades. Small house we both agreed on. I said no to tree bark essentials, he said no to a washer and dryer. I said no to a wash board and ringer. He said OK, no dryer. We were making progress. He said composting toilet, I said no way no how. He said no extras just the minimum, I said OK.

Simple is not simple to plan, but it’s also not terribly complicated. Chop wood, carry water.

We were learning that living simply could be a monstrous time suck, and some days physically and mentally exhausting, and frustrating. Loosing your entire market garden to one random hail storm is not an easy pill to swallow. Busy from sun up to sunset on most days. There is a reason that some homesteaders killed each other, ate their young, and went crazy. I was choosing to not go down that path, just yet.

Ocean, Garden

But, surprisingly enough, I was loving our simple life. I’ve never been opposed to hard work, but I learned that I function much better without material clutter. I started to love going to bed each night, (yes a bed, after I talked Spore out of the tent in the yard), exhausted mentally and physically in a deep satisfying way. Things felt real, rich, tangible, and known.

We were young, we didn’t have children or dogs yet, simple was totally doable.

And then one day we looked at each other, maybe it was a blank stare. We now had a dog and two babies, and jobs in town. Laundry sat on the clothes line for days, I considered rain an extra rinse cycle. Wood needed to be chopped, the garden harvested, and goodies to be canned. Our dog and two babies took up all of the time I use to have to take care of our basic needs. I felt completely time poor, and exhausted in a not so good way.

spore & pip garden

So we hit the compromise table again. My new focus was our babies and my dog. Somethings around the house had to give, be made a bit easier. My declaration to not being super human stuck. I held up my simple white flag, to our simple little life, in our simple little home. And I was gifted a lovely dryer. Woop… I think it might still be the best gift I ever received.

Over the years we have added more dogs, birds, fish, and bunnies. Our children are growing up and are getting pretty involved and busy in their activities. My dogs are all hitting their senior years at one level or another and it is ripping at my heart. And I have some modern conveniences in our home that I am so grateful for.

Most days I have ample time for my kids and dogs. I mean hours worth, and I planned it this way. I also work full time, and still grow a market garden. But the ‘keep it simple’ is always at the forefront of everything I do.

I would consider myself to be time poor. There are very few days, if any, where I am at a loss for something to do. Even though my scientist friends remind me that time is a constant and does not change, if you are a mother you know for a fact that it does. Time goes by way to quickly with my dogs and they go from puppy to senior in no time at all. I have learned to stop and cherish each day with them, not that they are all good or productive, but that we are here and doing this journey together. My kids are growing way to quickly and I would like the clock to slow a bit, enjoy the time I have with them for just a little longer.

On days were I am feeling really time poor, I stop and take a deep breath. There is always 20 minutes someplace in the day to sit down with my kids and listen to them. There is always 20 minutes to go into the yard and play with my dogs and work with them.

Cutting out the extras and knowing what is most important is the simplest way to live, and love, and be grateful. Time poor doesn’t have to mean ‘no time’, it simply means there is no time for extras, only what matters most.

Nancy

 

 

 

when is a rescue no longer a rescue?

Posted on by
18

Marketing is a powerful tool.

A good marketing plan can shape how we feel, how we act, how we move, how we eat, what we eat, where we live, what we think, and so on. Sit back and think for a moment, what are you currently doing in your life that has not been shaped by marketing on some level? hmmm

During the past decade, one of the most powerful marketing trends in the United States has been focused on adopting pets from Rescues and Shelters. Ethically, morally, socially, and neighborly, it has been marketed as not only the cool thing to do, but the responsible thing to do. This in and of itself is great, animals in need of forever homes garnering attention in every corner of America. A spot light on those animals that for whatever reason need a better, and more suitable home than the one they started with. And because this marketing trend surpasses the animal world, is backed by movie stars, politicians, and the uber wealthy, it is very successful! Yay for the animals!

IMGP0543

Some dogs that have come from shelters and rescues have made the headlines over the years; Agility Champions, Therapy Dogs, Service Dogs, Canines for Conservation, and cherished family pets that turn out to have a lot of talent. These stories bring another layer to this marketing trend. Sometimes you can find that diamond in the rough, and how cool is that.

But not all are remarkable, or pretty, or talented. Some are simple, some with lack luster looks, some have seen evil, some have experienced dangerous situations, many have lived in dysfunction, some are timid, some are just simply not the right fit for the humans that chose them. And there are plenty more reasons why these dogs end up in transition with rescues and shelters. And believe it or not, this is great for marketing too. There are a plethora of people with very deep and kind hearts who are looking for a dog to cherish. They want to help the under dog. Provide a safe place, give them hope, experience happiness, and let them fly.

Just as every dog in transition has their own story, every person that wants a dog has their own reasons.

But here is my question, or statement, or opinion, or observation. I’m not sure what it is because depending on the day it seems to take on a new life form.

This powerful marketing trend to adopt is good and right on all levels, I support that. But this same marketing trend has kept these dogs carrying around their baggage from their past life for way too long. Marketing has shaped us to continue to use the terms ‘my rescue’, ‘he/she’s a rescue’, ‘it’s a rescue’, ‘pound puppy’, or ‘second hand mutt’. But why? Once you adopt your dog aren’t they now yours? Shouldn’t we be using the term ‘MY DOG’. Let them leave their past life behind and move on, a fresh start, re framing how the world works in a better way, hopefully.

There seems to be some moral or ethical Brownie Badge when you refer to your dog as ‘my rescue’. In that one word phrase you have let, whoever you are talking too, know that you have done a good thing out of the kindness of your heart. I have never seen the same emotional response in a conversation by just saying ‘this is my dog’. Ta Da, MY DOG!

Sometimes marketing plans that work so well on us humans, and shape our behavior, can back fire on our dogs. Many times, dogs that are adopted and called ‘a rescue’ are thought to be less intelligent by some, less trainable, less social, less of everything. ‘Rescue’ can be a powerful word picture for some people. Odd, anti social, over the top behaviors are sometimes tolerated, because, well you know, it’s a ‘Rescue’. What?

When a person commits to the words, ‘my dog’, they cannot blame or excuse their human behavior or their dogs behavior on the past. It is pretty defining, and requires accountability in my opinion, or rather my world. My dog, my responsibility, my companion, my joy, my life, my world. It is full commitment, committing to another living being, fully and totally without any verbal barrier or excuses, or dismissals because of their previous experiences.

Whether you refer to yourself as a guardian or an owner, do it fully, not half way. Rescue a dog, adopt a dog, but then call them yours. My Dog.

After all, I don’t believe they can be re rescued every single day for the rest of their lives in the same home with the same person. How freaking exhausting would that be!

Nancy, who is currently surrounded by four sleeping dogs, who are all My Dogs.

it’s the 99% of the time that kindness counts

Posted on by
13

When we first moved into our Montana neighborhood, on a cul de sac, I was so excited. Families, children, dogs, close to schools, neighbors to chat with at the mail box, all of the good stuff.

You see, we moved to Montana from Wyoming. You might say, yeah, big deal, it’s pretty much the same. Oh no it’s not. Wyoming is a bit rough around the edges and a bit lawless. We were 75 miles from an interstate, and had lots of sage brush in pretty much every direction.

Everything there is extreme. The summers are roasting hot, the winters are freaking cold and frozen, the wind lifts roofs, and the perfect days are just so perfect that it’s hard for the mind to comprehend. But our neighbors were good people, to the bone good. They may not have been chatty, or super social, but they were kind and hard working. If I ever needed help, real help, they were there for me every time, and visa versa. We all looked out for each other, and not in a nosy neighborhood way. There was a sincere kindness, and realness to our life there, rough but very real.

When we arrived on our cul de sac, there were 19 children and 13 dogs. I thought that for sure this was going to be it! We were told that the dogs could be off leash and the children could play safely, everyone looked out for everyone else. Wow! Happy Valley.

Well it was a nightmare with dogs off leash everywhere, so we built a fence, planted a hedge, and built a garden. So did a few of the other homes. Things became a bit more peaceful and a bit kinder. Not so many neighborly conflicts. Our dogs were happier, and I was happier having them safe from some of the other dogs in the neighborhood.

Then we found that kindness was subjective. We were only one of two homes on our circle that didn’t go to the same church. Kindness was reserved for church friends, cold shoulders for the rest. This was actually OK with me, I was learning that things weren’t very ‘real’ after all, so doing my own thing was not a loss really. I had my kids, dogs and garden, life was good.

But this is also when the ‘sand box’ wars started. That oh so precious moment when a parents point of view slips out of a four year olds mouth, and you learn that kindness is really masked contempt and judgement. These little people spewing their parents hatred at my children because they didn’t go to the same church.

At one point I was told that ‘cleanliness was next to godliness’ by one of these charming four year olds. She didn’t even know what it meant, other than she was pointing to my laundry on the couch. So I told her to fold it if it bothered her so much. Funny, she never came down again.

Then years went by, everyone kind of fell into their own groove, and only minor neighborhood conflicts. There have been births, deaths, marriages, and two new families. Our dogs and children live a good life, my garden has continued to grow.

And it only took one trigger, just one the other night, to bring me back to that feeling I had when we first moved here.

We have four dogs, two are seniors. They are never off leash in our neighborhood, and we respect others properties. We still have to look out our driveway each time we take them for a walk to make sure our neighbors dogs aren’t cruising around.

Our one neighbor four houses down stood in the middle of the street and was throwing a tennis ball for his dog, right at our home and onto our property. You see we are the home at the back of the circle, it was a direct throw. So his dog came running down the street and right at our home. You can imagine four herding dogs watching another dog charge their home, it didn’t go well.

I went outside and started walking into the street and put my arms up in that universal questioning gesture. Any person from anyplace in the world, except my neighbor apparently, understands this gesture, everyone! He looked right at me, and thru the ball in my direction, and his dog came running at me to get to the ball. Again my dogs were going nuts watching this all go down. His action was intentional, disrespectful, and adolescent, and he is a grown man, my senior.

We exchanged words.

Everyday for the past four days his dog has been cruising around the neighborhood, he has been walking his dog off leash, and throwing the ball in the street, oh but only half way down now. He is actually making a concerted effort to be disrespectful and unkind. And he continues.

I know that some of the kids in our neighborhood read my blog. Thank you, I appreciate you checking in, truly.

So here are my thoughts.

It is important for every family to be kind and loving to their children and animals. It is also important to be respectful and kind to your neighbors. This doesn’t mean you need to be buddy buddy, but rather to honor their existence on this planet and be kind, be real. Going to church and learning about kindness is not necessarily ‘living’ that same kindness.

When you are out in the world, and amongst people and animals of all walks of life, this is truly where kindness counts the most, this is the 99% part of your life, the part that truly counts. Doing it, not just talking about it.

My friend has talked about home re model ideas like moats, turrets, and draw bridges. I think I might take him up on his offer sometime soon!

Be kind, be respectful, and most of all be real … Nancy

when the common thread is love, it all works

Posted on by
16

My husband and I had been together for about three years before we were married.

Akaroa - Tree Crop Farm

We worked, lived, traveled, and played together. He even convinced me that helping him with our house remodel would be a great adventure. I was young and game, and gave it a go. Why not.

We were learning about each other.

Spore learned that I like curvy, creative, and artistic lines. I didn’t mind paint splatters, I thought it made an area unique, and who doesn’t like more color? Uneven was interesting to me. I had no desire to create anything that was linear or square. It was the last remodel I was asked to help with.

We were learning about each other.

My very first gift from Spore was a hawk & trowel. I think he figured that plaster work might be my true calling? The second was a Husqvarna chain saw. And at what point does a man say, “yes a chain saw, that will be the perfect gift for her”. The third gift was a pair of hockey skates. I started to get the sense that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t learning much about me at all. While I accepted the gifts graciously, I had to wonder, what the hell?

But we were learning, yes this was learning.

I learned to appreciate his love of straight lines and all of the things he could build and make for us. He learned to appreciate my love of everything different, animals, gardening, and the food I could make for us. We allowed each other to be who we needed to be. And this worked.

We were learning. It was definitely a new skill set for the both of us.

Maine beach

It wasn’t until we started bringing animals into our home, and having children of our own, that we found our common thread. Compassion and love for living beings. We are different parents, he is a man parent, I am a woman parent, obvious differences I hope. He is about adventure, and freedom, and spreading wings. I am about home, and nurturing, and safety, and dam it do not jump off the roof, the snow is not that deep!

But we both love. We love our animals. We love our children. We love our home. We love our garden.

This morning I was reminded how deep this love goes. I called Spore to let him know that Franny ate something, the first something in almost a week. The joy and happiness on the other end of the phone was palpable. You would have thought Spore was just told that he won the freaking lottery! And then we went through our list of what we were grateful for. We have a lot, and it is between our house walls.

Franny and Piper

Sometimes I think it is easy to get wrapped up in life and really forget about the important stuff. And everyone’s important stuff is different I believe. That’s what makes things so cool.

My children and I had a great breakfast together and talked about their projects coming up. Ocean is sleeping next to me right now. $eeker and Story are waiting to go play outside and are resting with their toys near by. Franny is freshly bathed, has a little food in her belly, and is sleeping in her rocking chair. She isn’t walking well just yet, but she looks sated. I am stoked!

Nancy

up north in Alaska!

Posted on by
8

It’s workshop season! And what a great start. A trip up north to Anchorage and Wasilla for a variety of topics, freestyle, cross training, team success and treibball. Ask anyone who wants to book me, it takes a lot to get me to leave home. But in this process of prying me away from my comfort, I seem to almost always love every minute, and meet some of the nicest people, from literally all over the world.

I love giving workshops, I love teaching, and sharing, and learning from those I am teaching. It is truly a full circle experience. The bonus to working with such a group of talented folks is that the level at which you can teach is that much higher, and the conversations that much better. Working with talent is always a gift in my opinion.

The groups I worked with in Alaska were so deeply involved in the dog world in one way or another, or another, or another! Mushing, dock diving, obedience, tracking, agility, SAR, hunting. Talented and committed.

The Alyeska Canine Trainers club in Anchorage have an amazing facility. Karen gave me the early morning tour, lucky me! And we tried to use it all, but it is huge. I would be lying if I didn’t say I had facility envy on some level. Folks came from all over Alaska, even Juno. When I asked Martha how she got to Anchorage, she looked at me quizzically and said, “you either fly or swim really hard” and then she had a great laugh!

I was fortunate to get some time watching the Alaska Dogs Gone Wild Fly Ball Team, and to visit the Alaska K9 Aquatics center.

Dinners, driving up the Cooke Inlet to the Alyeska ski resort, which by the way was the only 1 hour of sun I saw while I was there, and then off to Wasilla for a Monday Treibball workshop!

The photos can do the rest of the talking. Awesome all the way around! Just click on the photo to enlarge and follow the arrows.

Thank you Karen and Claudia for arranging everything and taking such good care of me! Nancy

… and it unfolds before my eyes!

Posted on by
9

I love to watch dogs in motion, dogs interacting, dogs with their people. For me it’s like a dance. Sometimes beautifully choreographed, and sometimes like Dante’s Inferno. Nonetheless, a dance.

100_1955

I think the first part of the dance that is important is the use of space. Dogs have an amazing sense of space, when to give it and when to take it. Some are subtle, these are the real masters, and these are the dogs I really like to watch. There is always something to learn with these guys. Others are overt, explosive, and dynamic with space. These are the dogs that almost always tend to overwhelm everyone and everything in their environment. Fun to watch, but not a lot to learn. Well, I kind of take that back. When you see one of the overt space users, you learn that you can predict, with a fair amount of accuracy, who they are going to piss off first, and then second, and then third, before the owner gets involved. When I see these types of dogs coming I almost always find myself cringe just a bit, and maybe look sideways out of one eye. I just know what is going to happen in the not to distant future.

100b6800

The second part of the dance is timing. And that’s what dogs have in spades. It’s impressive beyond our comprehension.

I am someone who is super sensitive to space and timing. Perhaps that is why dogs and I get each other. Dogs don’t misinterpret my actions, and I don’t misinterpret theirs. If they are clear that they don’t want me in their space, cool, I don’t go any further forward, and visa versa. I guess space and timing are, in a way, equal to respect. Whether I have honed these skills through working with dogs (maybe some), or from playing sports most of my life (probably a bit), or working in the restaurant industry through most of my youth (for sure),  I can read a situation and react accordingly. One of the constant themes in e-mails that I receive from my YouTube channel is ‘… and your timing is kick ass!’.

By the way, because I am sensitive to space and timing, Costco on a Saturday afternoon is my living nightmare.

Which brings me to today! I was a few cars back waiting at a stop light off of Main street. On the corner was a man with a cattle dog. He was chatting away on his phone when I noticed his dog lay down, face away from the man, head lowered, body still, and eye stalk something. The man did not take notice.

Oh, this is fodder for my training soul! Just saying.

So I looked down the sidewalk a ways and here comes a young kid with ear buds in and looking deep in thought, and a jacked up young bully mix of some sort, that was straining on the leash, and staring at the cattle dog it was walking towards. Because this kid was walking in the direction of the corner, the young dog was being asked, unknowingly, to walk into the cattle dogs space, even with the cattle dog setting up on him, and giving him the “STOP DO NOT PASS GO!, STAY OUT OF MY SPACE” body language. Neither of the men were aware of what was about to happen, neither had looked in the direction of their dog that I could tell. I knew exactly what was going to happen. In. Two. More. Steps. This dance was about to hit the fan! The cattle dog got up and lunged, and at the same time the young dog lunged forward and was straining up on his back two legs. This all happened in about 5-7 seconds. Then the men started to pop and jerk and yank their dogs all around, apparently surprised in some way. Honestly, these might be the Costco shoppers that fry my nerves, I should have taken better notice of what they actually looked like! Cell phone guy never stopped talking, and literally dragged his cattle dog around the corner on its side. As the young kid crossed the street, and I was waiting to turn, I heard him say to someone in passing, “I can’t trust my damn dog” Oh. My. God.

As I drove off, I couldn’t help but think how beautiful that dance could have been with experienced handlers. Handlers that understand how to look at their environment and choose wisely. How to keep flow and motion, while also having an understanding of space and timing. How to work as a team with their dog, not set their dog up for failure. Dancing can be enlightening on so many levels.

It is moments like this that make me wonder why dogs even like us as a species.

May we all learn to dance, for our dogs sake! ~ Nancy

when dogs speak their truth, we should listen

Posted on by
24

Dogs don’t lie.

I’m not sure if they have ‘the ability’ to lie or not, but I have never met a dishonest dog. If there is one species that lives in the moment, truly in the moment, is honest, and speaks his truth, it is the dog.

IMG_1077

I’ll be quite honest, I think I love dogs because they are the least confusing part of my life. There are no ulterior motives, no hidden agendas, no social game playing, no misunderstandings, no lies. Clear and direct with intentions. I can respect that, and perhaps strive to be more like that.

If Story is hungry and paws my knee to let me know, I believe him. He isn’t doing it to fake me out, or make me get up to inconvenience me, it is his truth. “I am hungry, you forgot about my lunch today.”

When Ocean goes out in the back yard with my husband, in the wee hours of morning, and barks at seemingly nothing, it would be super easy to yell at her. “Why are you barking at nothing?” But she isn’t barking at nothing, she is barking at things that scare her. Noises, shadows, and the place where the bear was on the back side of the fence last year. Her fears are real, and her voice is the only way to tell the world, “I am scared”. When she speaks her truth is is loud and noisy, but it is her truth, it is not for me to say “it’s OK, nothing is there”, because for her, those things are real and they are in fact there.

Franny has never lied about anything, in fact her truth can be brutally honest, like it or not. If she killed something, she intended to do it, no apologies. If she intended to scare something, she did. If you come into our home and she wags her tail and throws her head from side to side, she is filled with true joy to see you. Just you. Not what you may have brought for dinner, not what you smell like, not what you may talk about, or your adventures. She is filled with joy by you, your person, your essence, who you truly are. And this truth is palpable, you can feel it deep inside.

IMG_0989

$eeker finds great satisfaction in work and his people. He has a strong personality, and a deep belief in himself. He might just be the poster child for ‘speaking ones truth’.

$eeker is about being himself, he is not concerned with being right.

He doesn’t try to manage our household feelings/emotions. If he pushed something over while playing, well then he pushed something over while playing, he doesn’t feel responsible for our emotional response, that is solely ours to deal with.

He is clear and direct. You cannot misinterpret his desire to snuggle, play, eat, sleep, work, or harass a neighbor dog through the fence.

He is kind, not malicious. But it doesn’t mean he is not intense. He is gentle with the elderly and children.  He plays like a rock star with Story. The only person that exists in any moment in time is the one he is working with or sleeping with.

At times, I think we must be so confusing for our dogs. We say one thing and then do another. We tell our dogs with our body language that things are not going to go well for them, yet our voice is sweet. we get distracted with thoughts about our day, yet our body language says ‘stay with me’. We are walking contradiction to be sure!

Story is beside me right now, deep in some dream. His tail is wagging and he is lightly chirping. Even now I believe he is telling his truth and it makes me smile from deep within.

Perhaps we should all take a lesson from our dogs in ‘speaking our truth’. And practice this lesson. Life would be so less confusing!

Nancy

my special kind of nurses

Posted on by
17

Bugger …

I don’t get sick often, but when I do I go down fast and hard. I must have picked up some kind of special messed up virus on my recent travels.

Yesterday I woke up, normal but a bit on the wonky side, and after an hour on my feet I realized things were not OK in my world.

The kids went off the school with their Valentines goodies, Spore to work, and the border collies and I at home. We all looked at each other for a brief moment, not quite the day we had planned.

My eyes were having trouble focusing, and because my head felt like someone was repeatedly beating it with a 2 X 4, and my stomach was on the high seas some where, I crawled into bed. But even that didn’t feel so good. Then the fever set in, yipee!

I don’t do sick well. I want my Mom and my Grandma to take care of me, even if only in thought. Comfort, caring, make me better. Wait, I kind of take that back. My Mom didn’t do ‘me being sick’ very well come to think of it. My sick days were something like “how are you feeling?”, “Mom I feel awful”, “well when you get a bit of energy here’s the bucket of cleaning supplies, the bathroom needs cleaning and the kitchen cabinets need washing and polishing”. Anyhoo, I want comfort, I hate being sick alone.

Thank goodness for my nursing crew yesterday! While they can’t get me tea, or make chicken soup, they offer comfort that goes much deeper, healing at the very core.

100_3600

Ocean has a hard time giving comfort to anyone, she is so concerned for her own safety that me being sick can nearly throw her over the edge. ‘Dear God who is going to take care of me now’ was kind of the expression on her face when I crawled into bed. But she did give me comfort every time she came in to check on me, she gave me one kiss, whined a bit, and then went back to the couch. That effort is huge for her.

Boo-1

Franny has always been the one to stick by me when I am not feeling well. She either lays in her crate next to my bed, or is on my bed with me. Her presence is not lost on me. Even when the room is spinning at 100 miles an hour with a skull crushing head ache, she is my anchor.

IMG_0329

Story my Sentry. So honest, so true. Mr. Integrity. He hops onto the bed and presses all 60 border collie pounds of muscle into my back. The weight and pressure is soothing. Better than a heating pad, hot water bottle, or warm rice & bean packs. And the added bonus is his luscious fur to bury my fingers in. When he gets to warm he will hop off and lay on the cool hardwood floor next to my bed. He did this back and forth all day yesterday.

seek

$eeker, dear sweet $eeker. So intelligent, beyond words, so quirky, and so funny. He was my lightness of being to be sure. He would rest his chin on the bed and put his nose into my right ear. He has a noise making repertoire that he does very softly, from low growl to chirping, to clattering, to humming.  Not sure what he was trying to tell me but it made me giggle, until my head split open with raging pain. So $eekers way of reminding me that pain is all relative, and there certainly is worse pain to feel, would jump onto the bed and slowly and purposefully walk across my chest and abdomen, each foot deliberately placed, and each foot supporting most of his 50 pounds of border collie weight. He would work his way to my left ear and then start his special language with me again. It was hard not to giggle, but the thought of him repeatedly walking across me was good incentive to remain silent and listen to what he had to say.

Did my dogs ‘want’ to take care of me, maybe, but I doubt it. I just happened to be the only game in town yesterday. As soon as Spore and the kids came home, I was alone again, and they were off playing.

It was the first day in a very long time where I literally could not get out of bed, oh I think I did once, but I crawled.

This morning I woke to four dogs, bouncing around, kissing me, howling, barking, and excited for a new day. Maybe they could sense I was feeling better? They make me smile, a smile that reaches the eyes…

I love them so very much… Nancy

wolf hunt, is it a witch hunt?

Posted on by
25

I wrote a post a while back, simply titled The Wolf – my thoughts. It drew such passionate responses, and some very long responses, that some of them I had to move into the body of another blog post. Many by professionals in the field of wildlife biology. Educated discussions are awesome, we all learn something. People have something to say when it comes to the wolf.

Mothers Day 2010

We are, like it or not, very connected to the wolf. We may not share exact DNA, but throughout the written history of the world, we have, the wolf and human, been very much a part of each others lives and livelihood.

Think about it, when someone starts talking about the wolf, or a wolf, we listen carefully. Besides being raised on a diet of cautionary ‘big bad wolf tales’, the wolf, in and of themselves, are sexy, fascinating, wild, and powerful predators. A lot to stand in awe of. People from all over the world come to the Yellowstone area to hopefully catch a glimpse of a wolf, or if luck is in their favor, an entire pack. And while I believe the raven is a beautiful and cunning creature on this planet,  it’s not quite the same draw. I have yet to see people flock to Yellowstone to ‘hopefully’ catch site of a raven! The wolf garners attention, demands it really, simply by their presence on this earth.

Wolf hunting, and now trapping, are alive and well in the inter mountain area of the US. Fish, Wildlife, and Parks states, at every turn, that this is based on scientific evidence, and there are a certain number of wolves that need to be killed in order to maintain ecological balance. I believe the balance they are speaking about is based solely on the elk population in regards to elk numbers for hunting, by humans. The ‘certain number’ of wolves to be killed this year is in the several hundreds by the way. And this certain number is not limited to wolves or wolf packs that have been causing problems on ranches. The wolf hunt is indiscriminate, it simply means if you are a wolf you are a target.

This wolf hunt is more of a witch hunt, and that is undeniable. If you choose to deny that you are living in ignorance, plain and simple. The culling of wolves from our area is not based purely on science, if that were so than the wolf biologists in the Greater Yellowstone area would be supporting this cull, and they are not. The Predator Extinction Act in the early 1900′s was met with ecologists and biologists warning how this was not the way to increase deer and elk populations for human hunting, and they didn’t support it or recommend it. Let me be clear, it has never been supported or recommended by people/professionals that are actually in the field studying these animals, ever! And if anything in American History we should all learn from so it doesn’t repeat itself, it should be the very real cautionary tale from the witch hunts of the late 1600′s. People lost their lives, most in horrific, painful, and torturous ways, simply due to lapses in due process, mass hysteria, isolationism, and false accusations. Hmmmm, sounds like what is happening to the wolf today.

100_5329

Every ounce of what you hear in the news today about the ‘science based’ approach to this new wolf hunting season is simply shrouded in politics. Anyone interested in the wolf, how they were reintroduced, the science and politics behind the reintroduction, and how hands were accidentally tied after the fact by bargains and agreements and the Endangered Species Act should sit down and read WOLF WARS. Many of the players during that whole process are still in our inter mountain area by the way.

I do believe if an animal is threatening your life or your stock, you should have the right to protect yourself. I do not believe in indiscriminate killing, killing for sport, or gloating about killing in any way. Taking a picture with an animal you just killed in any fashion, and smiling big, borders psychotic behavior in my book. Who smiles at death, especially if you made it happen? Taking an animal’s life for food and being grateful, I get that. Taking an animal’s life because you want to kill something, that doesn’t register as even semi healthy to me, on any level.

And then a friend sent me some disturbing information about wolves and the disrespectful way in which they were being killed and handled, and I came upon this gem of a facebook page Montana Wolf Hunting. It’s graphic, disturbing, disrespectful to life in any form, and it is simply about killing. Is this ALL of the wolf hunters in our area? I would seriously hope not, I would hope that some are ranchers that simply are trying to protect their stock, and purchased a wolf hunt license so they could do it legally. But this group is overt, and would like you to believe this is how all wolf hunters are, sad and scary. The ignorance, hate, and misguided judgment from some of the comments and photos is deeply disturbing. And to be very clear, these are some of the people who hold wolf trapping and hunting licenses sold by Fish, Wildlife, and Parks!

Wolves are predators, so are we. Nature has a way of taking care of itself, yet we seem to keep thinking we need to intervene and do it for her. Humans pollute, spread disease, we consume more than we need, destroy eco systems, kill, and hunt. I think we are more of a threat to this planet than the wolves.

Once again, I look forward to educated and passionate responses and discussions on this topic.

Nancy