Thirteen Friends and a Garden Party

Yesterday my friends Deb, Sharon and Ellen came over for a farewell picnic in anticipation of my move to the island. We had a wonderful afternoon in the sunshine with good food, champagne, laughter and...what else?.... DOGS!

Sharon brought her sheltie, Crystal. Ellen brought the whippet boyz. Deb brought Riley and Ginger Snap. And of course my four were right in the middle of the melee.

Crystal is another Sheltie Princess like my Belle, but where Belle doesn’t hesitate to get right in the thick of things if there is something to be had (like treats or simply attention), Crystal is more aloof and prefers to watch from a distance. By the end of the afternoon, she was right next to the table with the rest of the crew.





After initial greetings, and aside from frequent excursions for treats, Belle also resumed her Princessly countenance, retiring to a shady spot on the grass where she lay with daintly crossed paws and observed her Royal Sheltiedom.



Riley could be Charley’s twin – well, that would have to be fraternal twin because they are not identical. But when we look at them side by side, we can see that Charley (who is border collie/rough collie cross) definitely inherited more of the rough collie traits than the border collie. Other than missing the tri-colour, she has the looks and temperament of Riley who is purebred rough collie.









The whippet boyz consider this their second home (well, maybe third home since they also visit their Grandma and Grandpa a lot), so after an initial run around the yard, they each found a cosy spot for a nap. Cisco took full advantage of the comfy lawn furniture - for some reason he always gravitates to my favourite chairs, whether they be inside or out!



Kinley preferred the cool grass, closer to the humans and the treats:





It wasn't long before both whippets decided to commandeer the comfy furniture. The hoomans could sit on the hard, backless picnic bench.



Oliver followed around behind each of the others, being his sweet easy-going little self and making sure he didn't miss out on any of the treats.





And Sadie decided Deb was the next best thing to chicken jerky, hauling all seventy-two pounds of herself onto Deb's lap at every opportunity.




But the show-stopper of the day was clearly Ginger Snap. This was my first meeting with Ginger Snap. I am In Love. We are all In Love. This tiny little furball is the happiest, most entreating, endearing little character I have met in a long time. Gregarious, not the least intimidated by the Big Dogs, she is VERY treat motivated and absolutely quivers with excitement where food is involved. She hung out under the picnic table, poking her happy little face out whenever fingers with food moved within her range.














Oh, and one last shot - Sharon impressed us all with her ability to open beer bottles with her feet! Turns out there's a bottle opener embedded in the bottom of her sandals - I need some of these! (The beer I drink doesn't have a twist-off cap!):



It was a great afternoon, the best of the best, and one I won't soon forget. Thanks Deb, Sharon and Ellen (and all the dogs) for making it so special.

Charley's Inner Pup

Eleven year old Charley is usually my serious girl - the fun police, the tattler, who comes running to me whenever any of the others are doing anything they shouldn't be doing. She's the one who lets me know if the cat has slipped out or a sheltie needs to go pee or someone is roaming where they are not supposed to roam. She comes to the side of my bed to wake me in the morning as soon as Belle stumbles out of bed (Princess Belle believes in getting up at the crack of dawn), and she watches through the bedroom window to make sure neighbours stay where they belong and intruders don't open our gate.

But every now and then, her inner pup s q u e e z e s past the serious side of her, and that is when she play bows to her siblings and chases them around the pasture, or dances around my feet and tries to herd me to the cookie jar, or rolls in the grass or the alpaca poop in sheer ecstasy.

Last night, her inner pup had her playing "cute, coy puppy" on the couch. And so, here for your entertainment, is Charley Girl, in a moment of gay abandon:







Silly Charley!

A simple way to help

Regular readers have seen me mention Turtle Gardens Animal Rescue many times and know that I support the work they do in whatever way I can. Turtle Gardens is the only safe haven for dogs in a 250 km area in northern BC, and has been in operation since 1988. You can read more about it from my earlier blog entry here, or by visiting their blog here.

Unlike shelters and rescues in more populated areas, Turtle Gardens is too remote to be able to attract many volunteers or local donations or media attention - yet Yvette and Dave and family plug along giving their all to help dogs who have no other place to go, and to educate the local communities on the importance of spay and neuter. The dogs in their care are spayed/neutered, taught to be part of a family, and placed in carefully screened homes. And Yvette and Dave do it on a shoe string budget, assisted by whatever donations or funds they can raise. It is not an easy life, and I am in awe of their work.

And now there is a very simple way to help them get some much needed funds. GreaterGood.com and Petfinder.com have launched a "Shelter Challenge", with cash prizes to the shelters that get the most votes. And all you need to do is go to a certain webpage every day until July 26th and vote. Top prize is $20,000 with weekly and regional prices in smaller amounts. Turtle Gardens is currently number 6 in Canada and number 2 in BC! Let's give them the boost to the top!

So...here's the instructions:

Go to this site

Along the right hand side (okay, I'm left/right challenged - it is on the side aligned with my right hand as I sit at the computer keyboard) you will see some purple tabs. Click on the tab which says "Shelter Challenge."

Scroll down. You will see a box that says "Search and Vote for a shelter".

In the country part, click on Canada in the country menu. The page will refresh. You'll see the same box. Type in Turtle Gardens, and choose BC on the drop down province. Click Search.

It will come up with Turtle Gardens, and there will be a "vote" button after the name. Click the vote button.

It will show you a picture of an animal and ask you to type in the animal's name, for verification that you are a real person.

Do that, and then it will thank you for your vote.

And so will Turtle Gardens.

And.....to remember to vote every single day, go back to the first page and there is a box whereby you can get a daily email reminder and a link to the page. I started doing this a week or so ago, and it only takes a moment out of my morning. At first the process seems tedious, but once you've done it for a few mornings in a row, it becomes second nature.

Please help Turtle Gardens. They could really use the funds. The dogs are counting on you.

Emma!

I haven't posted pics of my Emma, the happy happy happy lab, for a while. She lives with my ex, and I have visitation rights - not much, but enough to maintain my connection to her. You can read her story here.

I visited her the other night and took some new pics of my happy, bouncy girl - that dog sure does love to play ball!

Play wiv me?

Happy dog

Slobber ball?

I haz Big Tongue!

All tired out

And one video, showing her obsession with ball AND that she still remembers the basic lessons I taught her:

Lullaby of Frogs

I was recently reading someone's blog (and which one it was totally escapes me - my apologies, if that person is among my readers!) in which the person posted about a bus driver who had stopped the bus for a frog on the road, got out, moved the frog to safety, and then been fired for their act of compassion. Public protest over the firing got her job back for her.

I used the story in one of my classes, in which I was discussing anthropocentrism - the attitude held by many humans that we are better than and more valuable than all other living things. We humans have a hierarchy of value, when it comes to life, and I am betting that if that bus driver had stopped for a human standing frozen in fear on the road, and helped that human to safety, there would have been no firing.

Biodiversity is a necessary part of environmental sustainability, and therefore a necessary ingredient for our own continued existence as a species. Why is that so difficult for people to understand?

(That said, I have already confessed in another post that I have a hard time giving maggots and slugs and moths the same value I do dogs and cats and pigs and people. Mea culpa.)

Anyway, back to the story of the frog. I read the story of the bus driver one evening, when the air was full of the sounds of frogs singing their evensong by the pond next door. Even with doors and windows closed, I hear them constantly. Open the back door, and I am awed by the full impact of amphibian orchestration, grandioso.

While there's nothing to see on this video, you will hear their song - the never ending chirping (minus the clack, clack, clack in the background which is some weird idiosyncratic feature of my camera - sounds like an old fashioned typewriter!) that I hear from dusk to dawn.



Last night, there was a new addition to the ensemble - a baritone singing solo from underneath the house! Somehow, what sounded like a large bullfrog had made his way into the dirt crawlspace, possible through the shallow watery channel which used to feed the well in the days when the house was built on top of its water source. Today I opened the cellar door to show him a route out, and tonight when he sings I hope it will be with the symphony outside.

The Piggies' Great Adventure

Tomorrow it will be one week since the pigs went on their Great Adventure to their new home at the Hearts on Noses Sanctuary. The morning had started early, with Ellen and I improvising a "chute" from the barn door to the place where the back of the trailer would be, fastening an old farm gate and 16 feet of x-pen onto the outside of the barn wall with hinges to allow the best fit possible. A few boards screwed onto posts and wall inside the barn,leading from stall to chute, and we were ready to go.

Karen and Robin, with son (Marshall, I think?) and dog Bryn (wouldn't ya know that I'd remember the dog's name and not the child's????????) pulled into the driveway and positioned the trailer.

Trailer getting into position

Bryn - a lovely senior pitti

Ellen and I had a huge can of marshmallows, strawberries, peanuts, dog biscuits, and licorice - all things piggies love. We had not fed them breakfast, so they would be plenty hungry, and motivated to follow me.

It went better than we could have ever imagined. Other than the occasional moment when one or more would run back at the sound of a strange voice or the sight of a strange person (oops - no, I don't mean that Karen and Robin were strange - just that the pigs didn't know them), they followed me right to the trailer - well, they followed the treats to the trailer.

The youngsters showed no fear. Mama Soda got on board once several of her babies were inside. Papa Scotch, however, was another matter. He hung out in the pig yard the longest, he moved the slowest, he took the most bribery. He turned his snoutie up at marshmallows and strawberries and even licorice, but the peanuts were just too much of a temptation and with a little gentle manoevering using boards and bodies, we got him safely in and the door to the trailer securely closed. No squealing, no panic, no fear - they were packed in like sardines and still snuffling the floor for the last of the treats. And then they were on their way.

Pulling out the driveway

I followed the truck and trailer to the Sanctuary, rolling down my windows at each stopsign but heard not a peep. Forty minutes later the door was opened, and twelve cute faces peered out at us:

Are we there yet?

(Thanks to Karen for this photo)

Mama Soda came out first, and proclaimed the new yard safe for the youngsters and so out they tumbled. Papa Scotch brought up the rear. There were waggy tails all around as they explored their new home.

I stayed in their yard with them for a while. It wasn't long before one of the residents came to greet them. Appropriately, it was Scout, coming ahead to check out the new team....

Welcome!

You're gonna like it here!

My name is Scout, and I'll be your guide today - just follow me!

And they checked out their neighbour, Roscoe the Farm Pig, who kindly kept his distance and behaved himself (for once!!! One day I will post the story I wrote in my pre-blog days about the day we built Roscoe a pen).

Hmmm...new neighbours....I hope they like me!

We added their familiar blankets and some of the straw from their old stall to the fresh straw in the two great houses Janice had prepared for them, and I sat inside coaxing them to join me.

Smells familiar

Foster Mama, dat you in there?

I'll be brave and check it out!

Soda and the youngsters checked out the houses, but Scotch kept his distance. Fortunately I had brought his teddy bear along - the one I bought him the night he shed tears after being seperated from Soda while she gave birth. Two years later, he still frequently cuddles his bear or drags it around when Soda is giving him the cold shoulder.

Teddy waits for Scotch

Curiously, the boy piggies started acting in a way I hadn't seen before - challenging each other with bristles raised and body slams. Perhaps it was just coincidence and reflected their maturity, or perhaps it was the stress, but most likely it was all my fault..... a Sugar High from too many sweets! Oops!

I'll show you who's boss!

We distracted them with fresh hay and they all chowed down.

Yum! Hay!

Snacktime!

Janice gets to know them

This is O-Kay!

But moving is an exhausting experience (as I am personally finding out!) and it wasn't long before Soda found a spot in the sunshine and settled down for a nap.

You tired, Mama Soda?

A nice sunny corner under the tree

All tuckered out

A couple of days after the move, Janice reported that one of the youngsters had been crying. On Wednesday I visited them. Rob Roy, Whisper and Fizzy (who have always been my velcro-boys) came running up to me, and it broke my heart to see Rob Roy's tear-streaked face. I sat in the yard with them and chatted with them about the important job they have now as ambassadors and greeters. I watched as a tear or two slid down Whisper's cheeks too. But while I was talking and singing to them, Scotch came over and snuggled down right behind me, snoutie snuffling my back, oofing along to the sound of my voice. Soon my three "babies" followed Papa Scotch's example and relaxed, rolling over for belly rubs and a little snooze at my feet.

They are all settling in fine now, and they have had their first big adventure outside the pen into the acreage. Scotch has fallen in love with one of the horses, Dior, and has decided he will take his own sweet time returning to his pigyard when called, but the others have learned to come to Janice's call even when they have slipped away to the neighbour's yard. Good piggies - don't go far, and come back when called!

You can read all about their first week, and follow along with their adventures, at the relatively new Hearts on Noses blog - you'll find it here. (For those as computer illiterate as I am - put your curser over the word "here" and click - it will take you to the site. Then you can use the back arrow to return to this blog). Be sure to scroll down to catch the week's stories, and especially read the entry "We're freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" which left me grinning from ear to ear. I do believe these little monkeys have already wormed their way into Janice's heart.

You're gonna have your hands full, Janice - some days you'll be wishing they all moved as slowly as Scotch! LOL

A Chilly Morning Dip

This morning Oliver got a case of the happy-dog-zoomies while we were out in the pasture for our morning walk. As he bounced joyfully down the trail he went off course, as Oliver is prone to do, and toppled into a hollow in the long winter straw, going ass-over-teakettle down the slightly sloping bank from the path to the little creek that winds through the pasture and broadens under the old willow tree.

He righted himself, looked at me laughingly, and bounced off again – right, KERPLOP, into the creek.

Fortunately, the creek is not deep. Unfortunately, the point where he went in has steep sides (more like a ditch, where the water comes out of the culvert under the path), and he couldn’t get out. Of course, it didn’t occur to him to bounce a few feet downstream where he could easily wade out. Why? Because I was on the path, and as I’ve written earlier, Oliver’s route is whatever looks to be the shortest distance from him to me.

So....down I clambered, through the dried old straw and green leaves of skunk cabbage, through land still mucky from spring runoff, to rescue him.

Normally, I do the morning chores in old grubbies, and then shower and dress for the day after I’ve walked the dog. With the piggies no longer here, I recently changed the routine – and here I was, dressed to go out, right down to my very-new-so-expensive-you-don’t-want-to-ask German walking shoes.

I really didn’t want to grab this very filthy, very wet dog around the middle and pull him close to me, so I stretched as far as I could and shoved his little hiney until he had all four feet on the bank – unfortunately, the OPPOSITE bank (it’s a narrow creek at this point). Of course, he turned around, saw me, and jumped right back into the water in his attempt to reach me. Ohhhhh Oliver......

So, kicking off my new, somewhat muddy, somewhat damp shoes, and freezing my feet into purpley-blue numbness, I waded in and hauled him out. He bounced his way back to the house as if unexpected swims were an everyday occurrence, and I muttered and mumbled and cursed under my breath as I headed back to the house to shower, change clothes, and warm my poor feet.

But the last laugh is on him. What's on the calendar for today? An appointment with the GROOMER! Ha ha, you’re about to get wet all over again, Oliver!