treats

Doing Grand – ND #93

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Nuclear Steam – Photo: L. Weikel

Doing Grand

While I didn’t take a photo of her this evening, I want to confirm that Princess is doing just grand. It was getting pretty dark when we met up with her this evening, in fact I took the above photo about one minute after treating Princess to two peanut butter baked dog treats. Hey, don’t give me a hard time. Liddle and Middle chose to stay in their pen and didn’t come out to say hello to us. So yeah…I spoiled Princess.

Lately, we’ve been noticing that Princess doesn’t seem to recognize me when I wear my heavier winter coat. That coat is blue. But every time I wear my yellow jacket, she runs out to greet me.

I should clarify: there are times when I occasionally want to sneak past Princess’s field undetected. Usually it’s because I’ve forgotten the larger baked pup treats I like to share with her. The teeny tiny training morsels we give to Brutus and Pacha and almost always have in our pockets, while she definitely seems to snarf them up enthusiastically, seem to barely register with her. Consequently, I like to try to skip the whole situation when I happen to forget the Princess treats (as we’ve come to calling them).

How to Trick a Pig

First of all, I’ve discovered that if I want to remain undetected, I cannot be having a discussion when approaching her field. Nor can I be listening to a podcast without my earpods. If she hears voices approaching, she knows she could be looking at a potential treat dispenser, so she tears in our general direction, covering ground across the field like a heat-seeking missile.

In order to sneak past pigs, then, your number one lesson is to be silent.

The next strategy effective strategy, apparently, is to wear a blue coat. This has been discovered quite by accident, but it does appear to be pretty reliable (as long as we remain quiet). Whenever I wear my heaviest winter coat, she doesn’t seem to see me – or at least it’s been much easier to escape her attention.

But when I wear my yellow jacket? She notices me. As soon as she catches sight of us, she sprints across the field and escorts me, practically prancing, along the fence line to the place where I always give her treats.

The second way to sneak up on a pig: wear blue.

Are Pigs Colorblind?

I don’t know if pigs are color blind. It sounds like they aren’t entirely color-deprived (as far as their eyesight goes.) But their sight may definitely be less rich than ours.

Lucky for me, tonight she caught sight of me just as I started climbing the hill toward her pen. Her enthusiastic greeting was sweet and always makes me smile. (Brutus enjoys touching noses with her each and every time we give her treats. Pacha, meanwhile, is a little too high strung around Princess. She sort of lunges at her and we don’t want Princess to lash out because she’s taken by surprise at Pacha’s furtive movements.)

I had plenty of treats with me today, so there was no need for us to go into stealth mode. Good thing, too. I was wearing my yellow jacket.

Princess (Middle and Liddle, too) but not today – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+93)

Déjà Vu – Day 933

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Setting Sun or Fried Egg? – Photo: L. Weikel

Déjà Vu

I had a shocking sense of déjà vu early this evening. I set out to take a walk and as I passed by our neighbor’s house, their newer dog, about a year old, nearly lost its mind barking at us. This is not uncommon, which is unfortunate, since we walk every day. (You’d think it would know us?)

The owner was outside and as we waved to each other I laughingly yelled (to be heard over the barking) how I sure hoped this dog wouldn’t find a hole in their fence. Of course, I was alluding to the incident I wrote about here, that occurred two years ago. This new dog is larger than the two that were involved in the prior incident, which makes its aggressive behavior a bit more worrisome – although those little dogs can be vicious!

No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than the dog rampaged along the perimeter and rammed its head against the fence, knocking a picket clean off the lateral supports. Luckily, Spartacus was on a short enough leash that I was able to scoop him into my arms before the larger dog got to us. Of course, the butterscotch colored pup (which piled on and added to the fracas last time) tried to join in again this time, but Spart was such a great boy – allowing me to hold him without struggling or taking his angst out on me.

I have to admit – it was a most unpleasant way to begin our walk.

Myriad of Shapes – Photo: L. Weikel

Nature’s Reward

It took us a good mile at least to settle down from the adrenaline rush we’d both experienced.

I rewarded Spartacus with an abundance of treats. He needed to know how much I appreciated what a good boy he’d been.

Meanwhile, I was treated to a spectacular display of artwork painted across the sky. And the artistry shifted and transformed before my eyes over and over. At one point, I stopped to take yet another photo – this time of the setting sun looking for the life of me like a fried egg, sunny side up –  and was startled by a Red-tailed Hawk shrieking at me and taking off from a tree only about 15 feet from me. It flew high into a tree in the field beside the road, raucously crying out again and again. Then what I gathered was its mate (which I hadn’t seen up until that point) took off toward the cliffs. She (the first one I saw – I’m guessing at its gender) yelled at me a couple more times and then also headed toward the cliffs.

I’m sharing just a few of the photos from tonight’s walk. I heeded the message of the Hawks and allowed the sheer abundance of beauty and magic surrounding me to ease my mind, chill me out, and bring me back to myself.

Heron in Repose – Photo: L.Weikel

(T-178)

Grief Shared – Day 685

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Sheila’s Fire – Photo: L. Weikel

Grief Shared

You know, there’s a lot of ugly, divisive, mean-spirited stuff playing out every day. It’s enough to make any of us despair over the state of humanity. And while I know in my heart that innumerable examples of kindness and love are happening all over the world as well, it’s a rare gift to experience it directly. What I experienced at the hands of all of you is proof of the proverb, “Grief shared is halved; while joy shared is doubled.”

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the many comments on FB I received about yesterday’s post on my family’s loss of our precious Boston Terrier, Sheila.

I could tell almost all of you have loved a pet fiercely and know the searing pain that rips through us when we lose them. Is the pain really halved? Perhaps not. But it is, without question, soothed. The love of others and receiving their understanding and compassion is literally a balm to the soul.

So thank you.

And while the simple statement of thanks feels inadequate, really, to express appreciation for that balm, we will soon have an opportunity to test out the truth of the corollary to the adage. Perhaps we’ll be in a better position to assess the accuracy by then.

Amazing Stories

Of course, what would a significant event in my life be like if I didn’t also experience a bit of magic that would generate some amazing stories? I will probably share them in the coming days because part of my purpose here is – in fact – to share the magic that is our lives, to help us remember

But I have to admit to you: I am emotionally exhausted. I’m also physically ready for bed in the worst way because I’ve been awake since around 4:00 a.m., which is when Sheila decided she was going to give me a bit of a talking-to.

Luckily, I wrote it down, even though at the time I felt confident I would remember it all easily. Thank goodness I listened to my own advice. Like a dream, it could easily have slipped away had I not honored it. And then…the rest of the magic that unfolded in the day wouldn’t have made nearly as much sense.

Sheila’s Burial and Sacred Fire

Early this evening we buried Sheila. Karl did a yeoman’s job of digging a hole some 4’ by 1’ by 2’ deep, where we could place her facing toward our home so she can keep a guardian’s eye out over us. Our daughter-in-law Tiffany attended (diligently maintaining safe and appropriate distance), as did Sage and Sarah from Boston (via FaceTime). Spartacus was also in attendance.

We sent off our sweet Sheila with some snacks for the journey, including three dried praying mantises which I’d scraped off the road just a few days ago on a walk. I’d forgotten to give them to her when I got home that evening, so I buried them with her. We also gave her a couple of her favorite dog treats and wrapped her in one of her wolf blankets. We also included a lot of sage, which of course was significant on many levels.

Afterward, we had a sacred fire to honor and give thanks for her life and her irreplaceable contribution to the love and light of our family.

A photo of the flames is at the top of this post. Tell me you think this is any ordinary fire.

Spartacus Snuggling All Day – Photo: L. Weikel

Thank you, again, from the bottom of my heart. Your love for me (and all of my family) and your willingness to share our grief and sorrow is extraordinary.

(T-426)