FarmLife: Dog

Showing posts with label Dog. Show all posts

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Animals in Our Past

David and Debbie Kudla

Through the kindness and painstaking investment in time of my brother, David, part of my (not forgotten) past has come to life again through digital scanning. David holds a degree in Botany from the University of Delaware from years ago, but more recently he retooled in computer science. I'm very glad he went the tech route, because he has recaptured our collective memories in images. Sadly, not all of our loved ones are still with us, making the images all the more precious.

It is my intention to group the images and share them, so we have them a family album with a narrative. Unfortunately, I cannot even date most of these images, so I am hoping that the people in them (or my brother, whose memory is razor sharp) can help me with comments that will complete the storytelling on a time line. Then, I'll re-edit the sequence and create a family movie.


Donns, Randy, RJ &; Miss Emmie ~ how young we were!

The closest I can come to a date is a generalization, the 90s, because Miss Emmie never made it to the farm. Fortunately, the rest of us did.


Merlin was totally my cat. No one else could get near him.

For the time he was in my life, Merlin was my soul mate, as cats so often can be. I rescued him from the horse barn where he wandered in one day. The barn folks called him Pencil, because he was so deathly thin. He took to me from the start, and it wasn't long before I asked Mickey if we could adopt him. We did, and somehow I think it was before we were married, but I could be wrong. Merlin was magical and different. He loved being outdoors, took walks with me, but was famous for his love of the long rides we so frequently took. We put food and water and a litter box in the van and off we went. Merlin was a dashboard ornament; he sunned there or claimed another seat of choice. Never a problem, but one day when someone was working on the city house, doors were left open and Merlin left, never to return. I saw him once, a day later, but then never again. Later we learned from a neighbor he had died. But for the wonderful years he shared with us, I am always grateful for his presence in my life.

Miss Emmie's Therapy Dog License Photo

Miss Emmie was our best dog ever. Likely she will hold that title for the rest of my life, because I cannot imagine any other pet coming close. Not to say I do not love or have not fancied our other dogs, past or present. Just none of them were ever quite the legend that Miss Emmie created in our lives.

The love of our life and Best in Show

What made her so special? Timing, partly. She came at a time when we wanted a visible deterrent, a strong presence of protection. She was that and more. Pure instincts of a German Shepherd Dog. She was the most intelligent, easily trained canine. Stay meant stay, and twice I had inadvertently left her, once at the beauty parlor and another time at the landscaper, but she stayed. She was trained in an obscure language as a protection dog for walking and running with me as I trained for half-marathons, and she was trained in hand signals for distance commands. She was a ringer of a tracker, and would have made a great search-and-rescue dog, if I could have made the sacrifice. She did not like children, and she was always a dog with whom you needed an introduction and my watchful eye; nonetheless, she was our Best in Show, still first in our hearts (yes, I love you Allie, but Emmie you're not).


Beloved Ono, my brother David's dog

Ono was my brother's dog, but if I didn't know better, he could have been the image of two of my Welsh Terriers. I'm guessing this dog was in our lives in the late 60s and/or early 70s, our vintage Welsh Terrier years. I'm so glad I had this breed of antical, high-energy dogs in my life when I was younger, because despite Allie's (our current dog, black Lab puppy) energy, the Welshies had it over any other dog I've known, including Blue Heelers.

I'm sending a special thank you to you, David, for the infinite care you took in making our memories live forever. Much love and gratitude.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Playtime for the Puppy

Playtime is training time with Jen, Allie and Kendall

Social interaction among dogs is an important part of their growth and development. At least once a month, Jennifer Brinson and I try to arrange a playdate for our dogs. Kendall, a Golden Retriever, five years old and a therapy dog teaches Allie, our Black Lab, how to be a well-mannered dog. They are both sweet-tempered dogs with pleasing dispositions. While they play, we dine at a favorite restaurant, then return to supervise and enjoy. Here's our most recent playdate, which always includes a visit to the llamas because Tess always knows when Jen's on the farm.

Playtime for the Puppies from RJ Stangherlin on Vimeo.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

The Road Home

Allie and Jen

Allie & Jen in Staunton, VA

Who volunteers to go on a marathon ride from Hamburg PA to Staunton VA, 560 miles, to pick up a dog?

An animal lover, a best friend.

Jen Brinson.

Counting down the last days of summer vacation, she signed on for the ride. Barely back from Elizabeth City, NC, she pretty much turned around and went almost back again.

We were there not even 5 minutes and Jen had Allie heeling and sitting. Jen wears many hats; count dog trainer among them. Patient and caring, Jen was onto this dog in a heartbeat. Two sweet girls.

Peggy & Laurel Fork Lab

Had you predicted that I would ever purchase a dog online, would not conduct a face-to-face meeting with a potential family member, that I would forego handling the dog to read the temperament, I would have said not a chance. But I did, and I am NOT sorry.

I had the recommendation of Janelle Moser, whose family owns a Laurel Fork Lab, and held several conversations with the puppy's breeder, Peggy Parries. She sent me several short videos; add a photo and I was willing to drive 560 miles to fetch her home.

Kismet, aka love at first sight.

Simple as that.

Almost there. Your forever home.

The ride home was long but the company great. Jen was my eyes for the dog; she kept me posted and chatted up Allie. I was impressed with this dog just from the drive alone. She was calm, quiet, and happy. She slept most of the time, or watched and waited. A patient dog, a pretty girl, a good dog.

In Jan Karon's At Home in Mitford, Father Tim acquires a big black dog. A good dog. Karon describes it this way:

A really companionable and indispensable dog is an accident of nature. You can't get it by breeding for it, and you can't buy it with money. It just happens along.

Allie just happened along.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

"Down the Road Apiece"

I love my dog but she is aging, and one of the long-range projects under consideration, beyond retirement, is the addition of a second dog. The idea is to have this dog actually live with the llamas, although I know I will break down and bring it indoors--right away. Nevertheless, the plan is, at the very least, to have a dog that is user-friendly with the llamas. A back and forth and up and down and to and from the house to barn and vice-versa. You get the idea. To that end, I have been researching breeds that might work with llamas, who view dogs as mortal enemies.

So, how do you protect livestock and the dog simultaneously, knowing that most likely, the llamas really do not need protecting. I just might have found my answer on Karen Brant's Great Pyrenees Community GPC Ning (I joined). Think I found my answer?

I found Karen through an attribution on a post from Teri Conroy's Times Union Farmlife blog. I love her videos and exploration of life on

Wunsapana Farm, as in a magical place once upon a time...and I learn from her. She has an assortment of animals, many of them rescues, and they all interact together just fine. That's my goal, down the road, plus or minus a year. See what I can do in my spare time on a Sherwood Anderson "Stolen Day." But the aha question: can I sustain it for the rest of my non-teaching life. Hmmmm....

Next fun thing I got to check off my mental to-do list that has lingered for a year, along with the rest of the items on this post, was creating a Creative Commons license for my 3 blogs. None of these endeavors are hard, just time consuming, and free time is usually not my friend. I retooled my attribution, so all the older licenses were null and void. I also added a much-needed Disclosure Policy and a Privacy Policy. Two blogs done and one to go. Adding a Blogger logo was good PC window dressing. And I am proud of the platform, although I am liking the networking on TimesUnion.

Next on the list was an "About" page. Thinking it would be a snap to retool my professional aka teaching profile, that's what I did. But after reading Teri's "About Farmlife," I realized that down the road, maybe next week, I would need to create blog specific "abouts."

Two of them, since this one will work for Changing Connections, although it will likely disappear when I retire. Soon. How soon is soon? As they say in my neck of the woods, "down the road apiece."

timesunion.com
Teri Conroy
Karen Brent
Great Pyrenees
Ning
Guardian Dogs
Wunsapana Farm

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Me and My Shadow

She is my shadow; wherever I am, she is by my side. She looks like midnight, no white or gray on her. She is intimidating, because you have trouble seeing her face, so you cannot judge intent. Part Labrador Retriever, part German Shepherd, she is the best of both worlds. When properly introduced, she can be the most loving dog. That would be the Lab in her. And yes, she is the first dog that I can trust with children. She will protect and defend them. That part is the German Shepherd in her; she herds and she is one mean (and she means it) protector and defender of her terrain. And she knows every one of those 185 acres because we walk them throughout the 3 seasons.

She looks like a bear when she walks uphill, and she has stopped several cars wandering through our rural retreat. One actually parked to look at her. She has almost eaten the UPS guy, and her reputation has spread to include all delivery people. They do a drive-by and fling the package quickly. I was home one day when I saw the UPS man actually leap sideways when he saw and heard her barking behind a locked glass door.

Is she the best dog ever, among my many. Depends how I would define best. Overall, no. That would fall to our first Miss Emmie who was the most intelligent and perhaps most protective of me ever. But for guarding the llamas, for letting us know every move they make, even at 3 AM, she is unbeatable. And she is my great protector. She is starting to show her age, and so perhaps there is another dog is my future. I think I'll do what my friend Jennifer Brinson did, and get a puppy so this dog can train the new kid on the block. Something sad about our pets aging; still, she has, God willing, years left, and time has not dimmed her ability to protect and defend.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Inside Out

Almost all of my posts about life on the farm focus on the outside, but today I am tackling this post inside out (as soon as the MAC pinwheel disappears). When you think farm, you think animals and the progression usually moves to barns, pastures, fences, thinking outside, conjuring images of sheep, goats, cattle, horses, dogs.... Today, thinking outside the box, we're moving inside. Let's start with the house cats. Our tabby, Nina, weighs in at an unhealthy 20 pounds; Mamma Cat defines her household status and her role. Nina vets all the dogs, walking up to them, putting her nose on theirs, as it to say, okay, you're a keeper; you pass the test. Nina is the boss of the household (funny, I thought I was). Although it may be hard to tell from this photo, 6 years later, Nina still grooms Maggie, who consequently does not know how to do so herself.

Although she has never given birth, Nina adopted Maggie from the moment she entered our household. Maggie was a special needs cat. At 9 weeks, she fit inside my hand. She was born without a tail but with an extra vertabra, making her silhoutte regal with a high arch. Any creature who began life so challenged (the only kitten to survive in her small litter) deserves a wonderful life, unchallenged by complications. But Maggie nearly died twice; the first time from a single prescription eye drop. I was holding her in my arms as she went limp. Miraculously, the vets (local and UPenn Small Animal Clinic) saved her, only to have her go plantigrade several months later. She hopped like the rabbit she almost resembled, and again we took her to UPenn.

They could do nothing for her, but once again, like a miracle, three day later, she was normal and has remained so ever since. Weighing in at a long and lean 9 pounds, she is the joy of our life and definitely Mickey's cat. She is good about sharing her love, and still falls asleep on my chest, but, make no mistake: she's Mickey's girl.

How soon she forgot who took care of her for her first 3 months when she arrived. Does she remember that I slept on the pull-out bed downstairs all summer so she would have company? That's my girl.

Definitely not Mickey's girl is my dog Julie. She, too, was adopted, actually from the same very generous woman who gave us Maggie. Julie is an all-black (reminds me of the NZ soccer team) GSD and Labrador Retriever mix. A true hybrid, she carries a toy with her wherever she goes, is loving and great with children and guests, but is preternaturally protective of her farm and family. She is never off a leash, because her GSD instincts make her 120 pounds of reckoning. This photo was taken last winter; she has added some pounds since then, making her even more formidable looking. Clearly I need to add more inside images to my collection.

Moving to the outside (you thought you'd see animals here, right) presents the classic farm paradigm: problems with keeping equipment running. No matter how many tractors you have, normal use needs normal maintenance. Fortunately for me, I have the BEST help, bar none. Albert was cutting the orchard grass in the pasture, top trimming, when the bottom cutting tray just dropped off. Lucky for all of us, Titus was driving by. He's a great mechanic and a tremendous help while Albert battles gout in his one wrist (and he's still moving all these acres; told you I had great help).

Curious as their gene pool makes them, the girls just could not be keep out of the action. Although I did not capture the quintessential picture, Tess tried diligently to get as close as she could to the boys and the tractor. One of my earliest memories of Tess and Rev was how as young crias they edged under Carol's fence to get as close as they could to a mother and her new-born cria. Their inquisitiveness has never faltered. If something is going on, they desperately want to be part of it. That's what I LOVE about these two. Missing is Cierra, and since I just spoke with Carol, we are reasonably certain she is pregnant, and that is good news indeed.

The last image is definitely outside, almost an anomaly. If you look very closely, you will notice a light on two trees. Considering that I snapped this shot at 9:30 this morning, the lights foreshadow grey storm clouds gathering overhead, generating a scary storm warning for the PM forecast. Mercifully, we escaped damage and the girls are safe. I hate hurricane season, and although we are not in the Weather Channel's usual doom-and-gloom predictions, today was an exception that gave pause for prayer. We are not safely out of the warning until 8 PM, so the countdown to safety continues.

The Farm
Llamas
Hurricanes
Rural America
Country
John Deere Tractors
Turbo Tagger