WordPlay

Mother Nature has been taunting me this week.

You see, it’s weather-watching time, as TD Sunday approaches.  (Yup, I’m writing this on Saturday.  Sunday will be…busy.)

There are those of you out there who probably think this is some oblique reference to the Superbowl, which is not a recognized date in my house, other than the fact that the roads are blessedly clear of traffic during certain hours of that day.

No, TD = tracking dog.  Around here, it’s a test we have once a year.  And it’s the sort of test that’s so dependent on circumstances–weather, terrain, bunnies, judging decisions–that even if you and the dog are Ready, it can all still go very, very wrong.

One does not get cocky about a tracking test at any level.

I think that Dart is ready, if still very green.  He’s enthusiastic, driven, and he knows what his job is.

But that Mother Nature!

Over the course of the week, the forecast for Sunday has gone from calm with the slight potential of rain (not the worst thing that could happen) to calm (yay!) to cloudy (fine) and then, between Friday night and Saturday morning, to strong winds with wicked strong gusts.

(Not that I’ve been watching.)

As you may guess, even if you’ve never trained a tracking dog, this is not ideal tracking weather.  What we won’t know, until we get there, is whether it’s a decently consistent wind, or whether it’s suck-n-gust.

Well, by the time you read this, all will have been answered.  I may even add a little something here to indicate how it went…unless I’m out sulking and kicking at dust devils.  But meanwhile, here are images from Dart’s final training track before the test… (watch that tail wag…)

Already on the track, heading for the start article...

Sniffy sniffy sniffy--about to navigate Cactus Row

And off we go! He's decided he's sure of himself and he's about to put our brush-navigating skills to the test

It’s 10am Christmas morning, which is a whole lot later than this day started.  Not because I have eager kids in the house, but because today was my chance to run a certification track with Dart Beagle.

In order to enter the TD (tracking) test, a dog must prove he’s ready.  That means passing on an informal TD track.  Ours was scheduled for Friday the 23rd–but we spent Friday snowbound, digging out from under the third storm in two weeks.

insert random beauty

Sunrise, right before the start of the storm...

Thirty-six hours later, as the sun is about to set...clearing skies with lenticular clouds sitting on the Sandia Mountains

So we rescheduled for Monday.  But then the certifying judge had to reschedule something of her own due to that same weather, and suddenly here we are on Christmas morning, squeezing in the track together.

It was 15F when we left the house; marginally warmer when I ran Dart’s little starter track (a wee morale builder).  Eventually the sun came up and that helped a bit–when we ran the certifying track a little after nine, it was all blue sky, bright sun, and eager Beagle.

And for Christmas this year, the eager Beagle ran a picture-perfect track and found the glove. 

Now I am off to celebrate!

insert random holiday cheer

My view from the office at Horse Feeding Time

Duncan feeling a bit jaunty in his power red blankie

The dogs say "Happy Holidays!"

By Patty Wilber

Horse care after hard riding in cold weather. That was the blog plan anyway.

But then I went to the ranch last weekend, and it rained while we rode the horses in.

My slicker worked!

It rained over night.  It rained while we gathered  heifer 48, the sick orphan, and the four mama cows with the littlest calves whom we needed to truck,  rather than walk down the mountain.

Mama Blue 14, in the trailer with a snack of alfalfa

It rained enough that we put chains on all four tires of the 4-Wheel Drive truck we used for hauling the load of bovines off the western side.

Putting chains on in the mud.

It rained enough that we were worried the cattle pot (a semi truck) could not get into the pens down at the bottom of the hill on the eastern side.

It rained on the way out, two riders, and NO COWS.  Left the majority at the ranch and we are heading out this week to try again. I am gone as you read this.

A view on the way down. Still raining

So, maybe the title should’ve been be “Rode Wet”? 

Or maybe it should’ve  been “48″.   48 had brisket (high altitude respiratory edema) and probably pneumonia. She is not out of the woods yet and could still kick off, which would be rather distressing…because…

48 in the trailer. You can see her ear tag and the back of her head.

Well, I’ll tell you. (I guess this is her somewhat less than 15 minutes of fame…)

48 is a twin and and her womb-mate, Little 24 (distinguishable from Big 24 by the relative sizes of the ear tags), was the one mom wanted.  48 was abandoned.  We brought her in from the farm where she was born with in a few days, along with two likely substitute moms.

Both let her nurse some, but neither truly accepted her.  She took to nursing from behind when the “real” calves nursed from the side. She took the opportunities to eat when they were there.

About a week later, she got snake bit.

Her whole head swelled up and her eyes puffed into slits.  She had no Mom to care about her.

I took Penny and went to check the cows one day.  48 was all alone in a field 1/2 a mile or more from the herd, and I kid you not, the coyotes were circling.

Pushed her back to the herd.  She couldn’t really see where she was going but she could hear us and apparently didn’t wish to be caught, so we zigzagged her back to the bunch.  The cows didn’t seem to care, either way.

She was small but she survived.

We moved her to the high country in June with the rest, and she walked the whole way in.  She continued her vagabond sneak nursing.  I do not know how many moms she’s borrowed from, definitely more than three. She grew to be one of the bigger calves!

Then this, just one week before moving off the mountain!

She has received two doses of penicillin and seems to be improving.  Good thing, because if she’d died at the ranch (and I do have the “just died” picture but it was a little gruesome), in less than 10 days, this is all that would be left.

Scavengers waste no time. This is less than 10 days after death.. Cue music for Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. A time lapse camera would have been cool. Bears? Lions? Foxes? Bobcat?

Hold on 48!

WIND.  Agility.  WIND.  Cold.  WIND.

WIND WIND WIIIIIIIND.

Every once in a while, a trial comes along that turns into a defining mark. “Remember that trial when…?”

Remember that trial when Friday’s 45mph gusts turned into Saturday’s day-long 60mph wind and mutated to Sunday’s blustery cold snap?

Early in the weekend with Wind Ears. Before it got bad.

First to go, the jump wings. The ring crews worked heroically to secure them.  Some couldn’t be saved, depending on their angle in the wind.  This led to a certain number of one-winged jumps and an ever-mutating course.

Next to go, the obstacle numbering cones. Well, we’re supposed to have memorized the course anyway, and who can read those things on the run?  But they did end up in some…inconvenient places.

Dog on the Run: What the heck is THAT?  Super-power: LEVITATE!

Early Saturday, before the wind hit peak, between gusts at the start line. The background tells the tale--contorted tunnel, traveling cone and chair in the ring...

Then came the set-up chairs. The set-up canopies were safe, because we’d all had warning…they were all tucked away, and the field was dotted with naked shade shelter frames.

That’s when it got fun. Tumbling crates, blowing jackets, flying trash, stinging desert grit, wayward hats, misshapen tunnels… Keeping the courses intact turned into a community project, with the ring crews in constant motion.

And jump poles! Even with rubber bands (which hold the poles gently in place but don’t prevent a knocked bar), they were scattered across the course.  Connery ran one course with four missing jumps.

ConneryBeagle: This is not RIGHT.  I will pretend the bar is STILL HERE.

But he still bayed into the wind and Double-Q’d.

Connery at the start line, spurning the wind

Unfortunately, he’s had a tough weekend as far as his pain is concerned, although we had him bundled away in a protected crate.  Little Dart was dazed and frazzled, and I was really glad he wasn’t scheduled to run; I’d have pulled him.  Belle…well, Belle did what she does best.

Belle: Oh!  Woe!  This must somehow be MY FAULT.

Sunday was a relief after that, bitter biting cold wind and all.  Thirty miles per hour, suddenly not so bad…

As for the hamstring, bless its little heart… I didn’t re-injure it.  I did my share of lurching, skipping, and jumping, and if I can get my hands on the video taken of Belle’s run from the worst of the wind, you might just get a gander of that.

Or not. I have to hold on to the shreds of dignity that I might possibly have remaining, after all…

(Hey!  I hear that!  STOP THAT LAUGHING!)

Meanwhile, it’s time to go check the mirror for my wild windburn, and do some laughing of my own.  Why waste the opportunity?

Yes, that’s right.  The days are longer, the days flirt with surprising spring temps, the ground grows achingly dry, and it’s all just a great big TEASE.

Dart is completely convinced.

Dart: SNOOOOOZE

Duncan is completely convinced.

A preliminary offering of spring horse hair

Never mind those singing birdies, the snow could come boiling over the Sandias at any time.  Never mind that balmy sun…the night temps are pretty frigid.

So keep the horse blankets ready, the trough water heater plugged in, and the winter coats to hand. Tease season, you are not fooling ME!

Dart Beagle: Oh yes you are.

Huh.  Guess I’ll just see if I can get under that hay pallet to rescue Duncan’s shedding blade from the resident pack rat.
~~~~

In other matters, it’s not tease season at all–it’s harvest season!  Because it’s Read an eBook Week, and there is a way cool sale going on at Smashwords.  The coupon codes are right there on the individual book pages.  And my books are included, along with some of the short stories!

Here’s my author page at Smashwords, from which you can reach any of the books/stories.

Here are the titles on sale:

Hidden Steel
Making the Rules
A Feral Darkness
Deep River Reckoning
The Scoria
A Bitch in Time

PS: Look what Dart found in the snow

It’s Thursday the 3rd as I write this; I’m heading east toward Clovis, NM.  The temperature has just (finally) broken 0*F, and there’s sunshine streaming into the van.  There’s a three-dog cuddle-pile in the crate.  The highway is covered with snow that, in these temps, just laughs the sunshine.  I can’t type with gloves, but I’ve got my wristies on!

This is Dart’s debut trial, for which I am alternately anxious to do well or prepared for ultimate humbling silliness.  Last Sunday, I thought, “Best go into this one well-rested and calm.”

Monday: Ha ha ha!  I spit at your calm!  And also, here is some crushingly bad personal news of tremendous consequence to handle!

Tuesday: Oh yeah?  I call your chaos and raise you some GUESS WHAT!  Here is all the work not done on Monday, all of Tuesday’s work, consequences from the crushingly bad news, a foot and a half of snow, and CHECK OUT THESE TEMPS!

Temperatures: plunge

Dogs: Go outside in THIS?  We want in!  But oh, we didn’t do our business, it was too cold, we want out!  In!  Out!  Dart: Never mind.  I took care of everything in here.

DuncanHorse: I am twenty this year.  I am not doing well in this cold.  Don’t I have a better blanket?  No?  Bran mash, please.  Watch me and fret.  Did you hear about that horse that colicked in last night’s cold?  Did you remember that colic almost killed me last year?  Did you put me on colic watch?  You did?  Thank you very much.  Don’t kiss my nose or your lips will freeze to it.

Wednesday: I have some excellent additional chaos for you in the office!  Massive hardware issues!  Software is funky!  And I’m even colder.  But see?  You can keep warm outside in 6F, as long as you’re working hard to mange the barn, and saving the new agility equipment from the snow, and preparing the van for travel.  Isn’t that neat?

Wednesday: And oh, PS.  I was supposed to be warmer tonight but I CHANGED MY MIND.  I’m aiming for -20.  Want to come along?

Dogs: Just forget it.  Seriously.

DuncanHorse: No, really.  I don’t feel right.  This blanket and liner used to be enough for me but…no thank you, I don’t think I’ll finish my warm bran and soaked hay pellets.

House: By the way, my pipes are already freezing even though you’re still using the water.

Gut Feeling: horsecolichorsecolichorsecolichorsecolichorsecolichorsecolichorsecolic

Me: Runs out to friend’s house for heavier blanket. Oh look!  I’m STUCK IN THEIR DRIVEWAY.  In the dark.  At -12F! NOT PACKING. *specific off-color running commentary deleted*

Me: Finally extricated.

DuncanHorse in borrowed blanket: I feel better already.  Thank you!  I nuzzle you all over.

Dogs: What about us?

House: creaaaak

Me: It’s 10pm and I haven’t started packing my gear, never mind the van!

Bed: You want me.  You know you want me.

Van: What makes you think I’ll start in the morning, anyway?

House: Seriously.  Stop packing and do something with these pipes.

Note: So far, this doesn’t feel very much like restful calm to me.

Thursday: Did you even know it could get this cold?  I’m so proud!

Spot the Car, blocking the Garage: Maybe the van started, but I have no such intention.

Van: Have you checked my tires?

DuncanHorse: I am much better, but more warm mash before you go, please!

Office: I know you weren’t going to come in here today, but I saved up one last giant splooge of Chaos for you.

Dart: By the way, this is all too exciting, and I’ve forgotten every little bit of agility you might have thought I knew.

So here we are on the road, ONLY 45 minutes late?  Heading to have a weekend of agility in a favorite venue with favorite people?

Yeah. I’ll take it!

Dogs: *happy snooze*

PS:

Rest Areas Along Stretch of Big Wide No Other Options: By the way, we aren’t open today.  Too cold, y’know.

Patty Wilber

The northern sky was looming over the ridge in a  thick smoky-black cloud. Still, I took Winston to the round pen to show him to some potential buyers.

Figured we could beat the rain.

Winston–all the horses actually–were high energy and anxious.  Winston couldn’t listen to a thing I told him. He showed his pretty movement but not his willing and quiet self!  The cloud got loomier and the sun was slinking behind the Sandias, so I figured I better attempt to convince Winston to let me catch him.  Normally a quick process, this took a few minutes.  He might not have sold himself on that performance!

A few rain drops were falling.  Headed to the barn and turned Winston out.

Then, the first hunk of golf ball sized hail slammed into the galvanized metal roof.  Loud and solid.  The roof rang with the impact.  There was a pause of quiet, then two hit.  Then five.  Then we were engulfed in a wall of sound; intense and overwhelming.

Dartagnon, here for vet care for an injured and stitched up knee, panicked immediately and began to run.  The hail was pounding him and the shelter was a den of cacophony.  He had no idea where to go, and I could not catch his attention.  The horse that will let me do anything to his injured leg,  a horse that really trusts me, could not see me in his fear; could not hear a word I said.

I wanted him in a stall to protect him, but there was no hope.

Risa was in a pen, alone and without any shelter.  She is edgy even under warm, quiet, normal conditions.  I could see the pain and confusion in her body.  She galloped blindly as the ground conditions deteriorated to muddy ice.

Jim put a board over his head and opened the gate so she could come in, but the noise of the hail on the metal was so incredibly loud that no horses wanted to be near the barn.

Cometa was penned next to Risa, but he had trees and is a very sensible boy.  He was running, upset, but he was thinking,  searching for a solution.

The ground became deeper in hail.  Risa’s pen was sloped and she began to slide and fall…She was looking for some way, any way, out.  She found it: through the 2-strand smooth-wire fence with an electric strand on top.  My heart stopped beating. The electric wire showered yellow sparks as it snapped. A T-post yanked loose and she burst through to Cometa’s pen, dragging fence.

He could not stop the hail for her.

She hurled herself back across the wire, catching a leg.  It yanked her to the ground. The hail was so thick and big that going out was too risky for us thin- skinned humans, and her panic was so great…I could only watch…or turn away…or watch.   And cry.  My chest hurt to see her.

She freed herself and regained her feet only to barrel through the last fence section  still standing.  The remaining electric wire went down with a hot flash.

Dart was still running. Risa was still running.  Cometa was still running.  The barn roof skylight panels were disintegrating over my head.  It was too loud to hear anything but the relentless hammering. Penny and Winston were still running.  The hail was punching holes in the plastic gutters and flying into the barn where the skylights used to be. I was surrounded by chaos, watching animals that depend on me  unable to find help or comfort or safety.

I guess I was glad Dart wasn’t in the stall with the roof falling on his head.  Not sure.

Oddly, the lights never even flickered.

As the hail  drove in harder from the northeast, Penny and Winston came around to the southwest side of the barn and found the most sheltered spot.

Risa found Cometa and they huddled together under the thickest tree, immoblized.  Dart never found a spot to settle.

It lasted, just as Doranna said in her Monday post,  approximately…forever.

When it stopped, all the horses were covered in welts.

Dart was shaking.  His bandage had slipped down and was soaked.

Risa would barely let me touch her.  All four legs were wire burned and cut.  None seemed horrible, but she didn’t want a thorough inspection. She had a gash under her eye and she was trembling. Bute ( a pain killer) and blankets and a slumber party for the two of them.  I had to rebandage Dart.

Cometa just wanted to crawl into my pocket and be hugged.  He stayed like that, a pocket pony, for four days. Penny and Winston shook it off.  Bute and company for those three, too!

My little car was totalled,  paint left the barn for parts unknown, and the entire property looked as though someone used a weed whacker to clear it. Saved on mowing…The electric fence has been re-strung but it refuses to carry a charge. Probably have to put in new wire.

Final insurance adjustments willbe done on Monday.

As far as natural events go, I know this was relatively minor.  All the property damage is repairable.  Risa is the only one with any injuries, and those not terrible.

The part that got me was watching their fear, knowing what could have happened…and having no power to help!

…Friday

It’s a Write Horse day!  And a hint of the grand adventures that have brought Patty back to report on posts, all “Wow!” and zen and “Whoa! Pretty!” Seriously. Sad Keanu could take a lesson here.

Around home, things have been more drenching. As in, astonishingly drenching. As in, the monsoon is here and it’s not playing around, either. After enough rain last weekend to create creeks across this sloped property and send the arroyos running hard, we’re still drying out and finessing the waterscaping (one must, after all, DIRECT those creeks. Especially since one of them quite naturally wants to run through the barn).

Since then we’re back to more typical seasonal activity–building clouds during the day that, on a lucky day, burst free with rain overhead. But even if we’re not getting it here, it’s pounding out a mile or so away…someone’s getting wet.

But y’know…it’s the desert. We try not to complain about rain. We tend to go out and dance in it!

…Friday

It’s a Write Horse day!  And the things you just don’t necessarily think about when you haven’t spend hours on horseback. Surprise!

And surprise again! Patty’s off having a grand time again, so here I am, looking to greet your comments with a wave and a smile and a “have a good read!”

I, on the other hand, am happy to be home. There’s an arroyo ride in my day today, if it seems safe enough–we’ve had rain, and that means the arroyos aren’t dry or stable. I might just sneak around to gentler land and work some canter fun. And being home means I can give Duncan a pat, return to the office, and dive back into the first draft with which I’m having such fun!