Back to Normal

Here it is a new year and I have already had an epiphany. I have for at least the last few years traveled to many places but somehow always ending back here in Nevada, a state that I DO NOT like, I hate the desert, no trees, no water besides the few odd streams that here they call rivers and everywhere one looks sage brush. Some how even with me kicking and screaming Nevada has gotten under my skin, she feels like home. I would welcome any place other than here to call home but no it had to be Nevada.
We are barely into winter most days temperatures reaching the mid 20's, no snow and living in a tin can that hates cold itself. The constant ice removal from the door just to get to the outside world, not that I want to venture out, I wouldn't if I didn't have my "kids". I very much hate my tin can and yet never leave it.
Why must a place I hate be a place that feels right?
Maybe one day I can call a beautiful green meadow with a lake and trees home, but for now it mountain desert.

Sad Birthday

Here it is the eve of my 33rd birthday and I have made a heart breaking decision about my much loved boy, I had so wished it would not have been so soon nor on a day that is meant to celebrate life. I know it will be a day both happy and sad. As I sit here and stare into his watchful eyes I know it will be the last few hours, I can barely breath. Why must this be so hard?
I know we as pet owners tend to humanize the fur balls, as a woman who cannot have the two legged version I put everything I have into them. It feels as if I am giving up, but is it really fair to watch him slowly melt into a hallow shell of his former self. How can I for my own selfishness allow him to slowly die because I cannot bring myself to do the kind thing. I see him on his bad days pleading me to make it better and I know there is nothing that can be done but hold him and make him as comfortable as I can.
As much as I should take comfort in the knowledge that his pain will soon be over, I cannot. I hope that one day I can forgive myself.

The "hard" facts of life

Nearly two months after my trouble maker "son" got into and subsequently ate an unknown amount of a brand new bottle of Gorilla Glue I am faced with the tough decision. I kick myself for not taking more care into where I place things. I have to admit that I haven't been proactive in a treatment plan, I just now have been curious as to what treatment if any are available for such ingestion. Treatment is only one; surgery.
I suppose I need to explain that while most pet owners would have immediately taken their sickly fur covered family member to the doctor. I dismissed the notion; as nearly on a daily basis the fur ball gets into anything and everything no matter what preventative measures I take to ensure it is safe from his reach, so to speak. He has eaten so many things I just couldn't imagine that his glue incident would be any different. It would appear that while 99% of the time my reaction to him eating yet another thing he shouldn't would have been accurate, but as he continues to slowly lose weight, vomiting varies from none to all day long, his ever changing appetite I see now that I should have been more concerned and taken him to the doctor. However knowing now that the only option is an extremely costly surgery, which I can't possibly afford I am left with two very painful options watch my boy slowly die or be merciful and put him down so he is no longer suffering. Two choices with the same outcome.
A tough lesson to learn and the loss of a beloved pet; it is hard to put into words the regret, the frustration and the sheer helplessness I am feeling.

Puppy Living

It has been a week of new life for three very precocious squirmy bundles. Not quite ready to see or hear the world they are still eager to explore every inch they can, with constant vigilance from Bear they are growing fast in size, independence and curiosity.
I had no intentions of raising pups in our little trailer, but life rarely has what you want in its list of considerations when it decides to guide you down the path to the future. So here we are bumbling down the road together, I do hope I will be prepared for whatever happens next, but if not I have learned to go with it. Much of living on the road has proven that you just have to go with it.
As excited as I am to be going through this I am grateful that week one is far behind us. Mommy during that first week was no fun, I know I didn't sleep for the first Seventy-two hours; if I did manage any sleep it was done by power napping. As I mentioned before this was a complete surprise so there was no way to be prepared for anything, that included that Bear was going to have the runs. BAD! I am still cleaning up places I missed the day we left them home alone. But to be fair I knew that I probably would have to do some cleaning up, I wasn't prepared for just how much. I now have in my staple for doggie care a hefty supply of wipes, yes they are getting used, I think I've already gone through one hundred or so out of a 300 pack.
I have managed well thus far no grey hair or hair loss, so there is a plus; but I still have at least seven weeks of anything goes.

Easter Suprise

I have always said that when the time comes that I would be breeding my dear sweet intelligent Boo Bear. I also had plans on picking the "baby daddy" to suit the needs that I was looking for. She has so much talent for herding; which she is meant to do. I have a feeling if I find the right one that her offspring will also be very talented. Last November when she came into heat much to my disappointment I was unable to procure a breeding, I was not in a position to take on such a financial setback with no sure thing, as it being her first breeding I was unsure if she even could, so I decided to hold off a little longer.
Jump ahead a few months, oh say five or so, I started noticing some subtle differences in my girl. She seemed less playful, more grouchy, possessive, and a vacuum. Not things that are normal for her. She also started getting fat, but to be honest living in the trailer in bad weather does lead to a lack of exercise. So I kinda didn't connect the dots. Maybe I should have.
Saturday night we decided to go out for dinner and some fun, before leaving I had made sure that the dogs went out and did their thing, when she came back in I observed her panting, not too normal, I have on occasion gotten the trailer too warm, and as it was on the warmer side in the trailer I again didn't make the connection, so off to dinner we went.
Upon returning to the trailer in the wee hours of Easter morn, the not so boisterous greeting gave me pause of concern, Lestat greeted us as always, but there was no Boo Bear calling again she reluctantly popped her head around the corner, she came out promptly went back to her hiding place, at about that time the unmistakable noise that only newborns make suddenly filled the trailer; OMG suddenly overwhelmed my thoughts, then I was excited to see that my girl was able to let "mommy" instincts take charge. I lost a blanket in the process, but totally worth it. As I pulled back the folds there they were three little ones. She had taken the the blanket off the bed and made sure it was covering the heater vent, to ensure they would stay warm.
While I moved her and the little ones to a better place, my mind raced and quickly connected the dots, yes everything that had changed in her behavior now made since. There on the bed were three boys nosily sucking away, while I sat there observing the motley crew, knowing that my Boo Bear and Lestat had made this bundle of misfits she decided to give me one more this time a little girl. They are all so cute, but unfortunately she didn't give me a perfect litter; two of the pups had deformities, both bizarrely identical. Both had a right front leg that was not right, one of the boys had just a stub and the girl has a skin attachment that prevents her little leg from moving, so the the vet we must go.
It all can't be perfect all the time but despite it all I wouldn't change a thing, a lesson is a fact of life and it always teaches you when you least expect it. I'm unsure of what my lesson is, but I am glad to have healthy happy mommy and babies. Definitely not something soon forgotten.

Dog Daze

I am now prepared to begin the search for the perfect man for my Boo Bear, however it is going to much harder than I first anticipated. For starters most breeder want an exuberant amount of money up front for the stud fee, second and most troublesome is that most if not all want a head to toe exam done and have been cleared of any and all possible genetic disorders. And the worst hurdle I am coming to is that all expect that they are going to be show ring bred puppies. It is hard to explain that it is mainly for my own personal use, that I have no desire to drive around the freakin’ country to show a dog, running around in circles. Don’t they know that the Sheltie is meant to be a working dog NOT a shiny plack they hang on the wall. What’s the point if you don’t use them for what they are intended for. That is why the AKC has five classes they put the dogs into. Shelties are meant for the small rancher that needs the dog that can do it all. Be a friend, guard, and make sure that the flock is where it’s meant to be. So what’s the problem with breeders who think there is only two worlds for a dog, show or pet. I understand the need to keep the integrity of the breed, but when you are only using them for the ring, then aren’t you then no longer keeping them as they were intended to be a working companion.
Yes, I know that now a days that the need for the working dog is not so great, and yes that is why they now have fly ball, agility, Frisbee, and dock dogs. But in the world of dog breeding must they forget that there is still the working man who still needs the working dog. So then my other thought is if breeders are so damn strict with what they breed, then why are they the only ones who are doing it for the money more that the integrity of the breed. If the almighty breeder is so set on keeping the breed as pure as possible, then answer me this, why are they who complain about over populating, perpetuating the problem; five females to every male on premises, bred at least once a year, four to six puppies per litter, not to mention the numerous male collections for outside females. And that is just one breeder. Times that by fifty “reputable” breeders and that’s a lot of puppies that are not worth the effort just to put them in a show ring. Which by the way is maybe one out of the potential 20 puppies born to their clan alone? So what do they do with the other nineteen? We all know that they don’t keep them.
So I suppose you ask then why am I bothering with breeding my own when there are plenty out there for the taking. Quite simple really, I see something in my girl that I want to see if I can reproduce. She has that natural instinct to do what she (the breed) was intended for, Herding. I don’t care if I make money or get ribbons, points whatever the case may be, for my dog, all I want to do is see if what I see in her can be passed to another. That’s all I want, is to have her by my side out there in the weather, not caring that she gets muddy or wet. Just for me no one else, quite frankly I know that if I were to attempt to find what I am looking for from a breeder it would be even harder, I know what I want and I have a good idea of what I need to look for, I am fairly confident that breeders don’t really look for those traits in what they breed, if they end up with one like that you can bet they quickly discard it.
Believe it or not I have been asked if I could or would be willing to teach/train a dog to herd. Believe me I have no clue, I tell my girl barn and she does the rest. She’s working goats no less, they are a little more independent thinkers than the sheep or cow. So for her to understand how to move a herd is any mans dream dog.
I see in her the perfect specimen the family dog who loves to do a job during the day and by night wants to curl up at the foot of your bed just to be near you. Isn’t that the real aspect of a true dog, not just something you put on your wall to brag how many points and wins they got you?

Oct. 6

I should be writing about all my exciting travel tales; or at the very least finish the ones I’ve started, but today all I can think about is the inevitable. That at some point in our live we MUST experience that loss of a very close and dear member of the family, up until now I have been able to file it away and know that in the future that it would creep back into my thoughts one day, but not in the immediate future. It seems forever ago that my grandma suffered her stroke; reality is that it has only been a year minus a month. How can it be that one day you’re laughing and talking, enjoying life and the next is totally dependent on your daughter to do everything?
Grandma has had so many little slips down the road to the next chapter in her life. When that might be is only up to her and God. Today is yet another example that the finish line is coming into view. It wasn’t a major slip, not much has changed with her, but now she must take yet another pill until the end.
I wonder is this part of the big plan that we as a family have to watch and experience all of these things to bring together this fractured family. What is the big picture? I wonder?