Archive for February, 2005
« Previous Entries Monday, February 28th, 2005Signs of Spring
It is not quite March, but even here in the mountains there are signs of spring. Two years ago I planted one hundred bulbs, most of which were dug up and eaten by squirrels. Last year I was smarter and snugged chicken wire over the tops of the pots. The squirrels chattered angrily from the tree branches, but my bulbs remained safe. Yesterday I checked the pots and found strong green shoots pushing through the soil. Even one of my roses which was tormented by beetles last summer, seems to feel the approach of spring. New growth has sprung up on its skeletel branches.
As I descend into the valley each morning for work, I pass by dozens of ranches where cows graze. The new calves throw up their tiny hooves and spar with one another; they romp in the bright green fields and roll in the muddy pools of standing water.
All around me are signs that winter is ending and the world is being reborn.
Sunday, February 27th, 2005Sussi
Sussi at age nine; still beautiful; still young at heart. For more about Sussi, read the article “Dog Blanket” posted on February 27, 2005.
Sunday, February 27th, 2005Dog Blanket
Sussi came to live with me when she was seven years old. She was underweight and doubt filled her chocolate brown eyes. For the last two years, her owner had neglected her in order to pursue a world of drugs.
Sussi’s personality was sweet. Intelligence radiated from her eyes. Her stump of a tail never stopped wagging. She and Kodiak fell in love at first sight. Kodiak was glad to have a friend to help ward off Clint’s unexpected attacks.
Sussi quickly became known as “the pack cohesion coordinator.” She worried about keeping everyone together; she circled round me on hikes and then raced back to Kodiak to check on him; then back to me again. She probably ran ten times the distance I walked on a single hike.
At night, when the temperatures dipped, I lay on the couch and tapped my chest.
“Dog blanket,” I said. And Sussi would leap up and drape herself across my chest, her head tucked beneath my chin. Her deep, even breathing often put me to sleep.
On outings, people often noticed Kodiak first. His huge, majestic body and fawning expression reeled people in. But, within a few moments, Sussi would get their attention. She sat quietly, her gentle doe eyes attentive.
“And who is this sweet dog?” People would say; and Sussi would thump her tail and grin.
Saturday, February 26th, 2005Clint - A Gentle Moment
See Article entitled Clint Catwood (February 26, 2005) for more about Clint.
Saturday, February 26th, 2005Clint Catwood
If someone made me choose, I would have to say I am a dog person. But, I did own a cat at one time. Clint Catwood was the product of my brother-in-law’s tiny housecat and an unknown Boston alley cat. Clint had none of his mother’s gentle traits. I can only imagine that he resembled his father in every way.
Clint traveled with me from Boston, to Maine and across the United States (three times), until he finally ended up in California. He was worldly and confident. He hated children and dogs equally. He had an obsession for Brillo pads.
One day I heard a kitchen cupboard door bounce on its hinges. I walked into the kitchen and began opening doors, peering inside cautiously. When I opened the door beneath the sink I found Clint, one foot atop the Brillo box, ears back. Busted. When Clint successfully snatched a Brillo pad, he made short work of the thing, enlarging it to four times its size and leaving it dead and destroyed on the kitchen floor.
My dogs had great respect for Clint. He terrorized them. He often lay in wait atop a bed, or beneath the couch. When the dogs ambled by, he sprang. Once he managed to wrap his paws around Kodiak’s neck and hang on as the huge dog back peddled down the hall in a panic.
Luckily, Clint mellowed with age. He began to miss opportunities to frighten the dogs. He slept long hours in the sun on the windowsill. He resisted the urge to snag me with a claw when I was done patting him. I imagine his dreams were of his youthful days when others stood back and yeilded to him as he trekked through his terroritory.
I will probably own another cat someday. He or she will have big paws to fill.
Thursday, February 24th, 2005Day’s End
Kodiak was wise, gentle and a great empathizer. He liked nothing better than to wander in a field of grass, smelling the flowers.
Thursday, February 24th, 2005Gentle Giant
Kodiak loved children…more than snacks, more than toys, more than anything.
Wednesday, February 23rd, 2005Foster Dog
It’s been a long time since I volunteered at German Shepherd Rescue fostering dogs. I got to thinking about it the other day when I read a short story about the author’s rescued pug. The tale was familiar…a dog being abused, neglected and finally rescued. My memory spiraled back in time to a spring afternoon when I got a call about an abandoned german shepherd puppy that desperately needed rescue. I had never been able to turn down a puppy.
I met Jaspar for the first time in a parking lot. He lay in a crate in the back of another volunteer’s car. I had imagined him to be roly-poly, full of energy. I couldn’t wait to smell his sweet puppy breath and bury my nose in his soft fur. But the eyes that peered out at me though the bars of the crate were dull. The puppy trembled from fear or cold, I wasn’t sure. I opened the crate and gathered him into my arms. The odor that wafted from his matted fur gagged me. The wetness of urine soaked my shirt. The sickly puppy managed to wag his tail and tilt his head up to give my face a weak lick. From that moment on, I was determined to save him.
That first evening I discovered that Jaspar didn’t just look and smell horrible, he was one very sick puppy. His fur crawled with thousands of fleas. He coughed up vast quantities of mucus from his tiny lungs. His ears burned with a red, ugly infection. His temperature soared. My vet looked me in the eye and cautioned, “Don’t get attached. He probably won’t make it.”
It’s amazing what two baths, a dose of flea medication, antibiotics and round the clock love can do. Jaspar’s fur shone. His ears pinkened. His breath sweetened. He began to get a glint in his dark eyes. His cough, however, lingered on. At night I listened to the painful hacking and worried. Each morning I peered fearfully into his crate and was delighted to hear the thunk thunk of his tail. The weeks rolled by and Jaspar regained his strength and lost his cough. He raced about the house, throwing up his huge feet as he chased a ball.
Six weeks after I had rescued him, I made the decision to find him a forever home. My throat grew tight with the thought. The hardest part about fostering dogs is saying good-bye.
After interviewing several interested families, I chose a gregarious woman named Gigi to be Jaspar’s new mother. I think what cinched it was her comment: “He’ll have his own couch at my house.” I imagined little Jaspar perched on the pillows of an overstuffed couch; abandoned no longer.
Jaspar may be the only puppy that ever was given a puppy shower. Gigi’s friends at work organized the party and there was cake, balloons, dog toys and goodies. Happiness and sadness filled my heart equally.
When it was time to say good-bye, I knelt and gathered Jaspar into my arms. “Be a good boy,” I whispered against the soft fur of his ears. Tears ran down my cheeks. Jaspar tipped his head and licked my face.
I have kept tabs on Jaspar. He has grown from a tiny pup to over 110 pounds of pure dog. His favorite pasttime is sleeping on the couch with his head in Gigi’s lap. He has finally found his forever home.
**Photo thanks to Carol Brandt
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2005Kodiak in California
I wonder if there are any frogs in there??
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2005Kodiak - The Frog Hunter
Hunting frogs on our trip to Maine…Read more in the article posted February 22, 2005.
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