Category Archives: Dogs

Dogs

Santa Made Me Do It

Bruno

I’m Bruno, a really a good dog. I ‘m only three years old and still learning what my owner’s call “behaving”. After all, this is my first Christmas to really pay attention to the “goings-on” and a certain Santa called my name.

I was just minding my own business, coming back from getting a drink of water when I heard him say “Bruno . . . psst . . . Bruno, I’m over here.” Well, just like any self-respecting dog would do, I trotted right over to the sound. You see, I’ve been taught to come when my name is called. When I reached the source of the sound, I knew what I had to do.

Santa

First, I looked both ways to see if I was being watched. The course was clear; so I grabbed Santa full in my mouth and ran to my rug. I turned my head toward the fire place, so no one could see what I had in my mouth. Luckily, my mouth is big enough that I could get the entire little guy in it with no parts hanging out.

I knew that Santa wanted me to eat him and it seemed he would be a tasty morsel. Yet, just as I was ready to bite down, my Mother pounced. She told me to open my mouth, but I really didn’t want to do it. But, she looked pretty mean and I gave in. She just kept shaking her head and looking me in the eye as she dried my slobber off that Santa.

I wanted her to know that it wasn’t really my fault . . . that Santa made me do it. Perhaps she understood, because she finally hung that wet Santa high on the tree, laughed at me and patted my head.

I’m a good dog, but that Santa . . .  I wonder what he’s made other people do.

Bruno

Dogs, Necklaces, Pendants, Philosophy

The One-Handed Beader

3 Comments

This weekend I encountered a new need for problem-solving. This time it had little to do with the design work and more to do with “hand” work. But, let me start at the beginning.

We have outside pets, but rotate them, one at a time, into the house for their own special treatment. My Mother’s cat comes into the studio so that she can eat and then goes back out. The ranch is so inundated with ants that she can only get about two bites of her food on the porch before it is covered in the little varmints. After dark, when the ants are gone, the raccoons come up and take her food. They are brave little critters because even when I stand with the cat outside while she eats, the raccoons still come. I’m dismayed that they aren’t frightened by my mean look and scary voice. I’ve failed as a raccoon scarecrow! That’s why the cat comes in for food in the morning or mid afternoon.

Our dog Bruno comes in after supper each evening for his bit of TLC. This gives the two female heelers a respite from him. I think they need it. For example, tonight as the oldest one walked past Bruno he just reached his paw out and whacked her. He and I had a talk about this, but I fear I have about as much influence on him as I do the raccoons.

Saturday night while Bruno was inside, he followed me into my studio. That’s when the trouble began. I forgot that I had not put the cat back outside. You can probably imagine the surprise of all three of us when we realized the cat and dog were within a foot of each other. Before I knew it, Bruno had the cat in his mouth and she was whacking him on the head with her claws. When I extracted the cat from the dog’s mouth, she, of course, ate my hand and scratched my arms as I yelled for help. My spouse dragged the dog away as I tried to catch the cat again. Did you know a cat can actually scale the wall of a house? I finally caught the cat and put her outside. As my husband held the dog, he kept making biting sounds as he cracked his teeth together. He really wanted to eat that cat!

Luckily, neither the dog or the cat sustained any injuries. The cat had wet fur, but no abrasions and the dog was left with one cat claw stuck in his forehead right between his eyes. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky. I was pretty badly scratched up and had one deep wound on my left hand. I tried to ignore it, but by Sunday it was extremely swollen and today, Monday, my nurse friends sent me to the doctor. We’re anticipating that the antibiotics will help. Currently the swelling is half way to my elbow.

So, that’s how I became a one-handed beader. It’s been very perplexing to try and figure out what I can do with one hand. Yet, undaunted by my plight, I got started stringing and found that I can do that with one good hand. The picture below shows what I accomplished last night. It’s pretty slow, but better than being completely idle.

allThe two necklaces on the left feature glass pendants made by my friend at Light Work Glass (lightworkglass.etsy.com) You can see the pretty colors in the close up below.

pendantsI was fortunate to have these on hand since there is no way I can wrap a cab for a while and one-handed hammering of a metal pendant didn’t work either.

I guess, like Aesop, I can say there is a lesson to this sad tale. First, keep the dog away from the cat and second, even a one-handed beader can get things done. I hope no one else has to learn this the rough way.

Diversions, Dogs, family

Fling Those Beads!

2 Comments

I’ve seldom been known to fling my beads, but every once in a while you just have to.

About bedtime last evening I sat peacefully in the den with my bead tray on my lap. It was full of various beads and wires as I worked on a new ring design. I always enjoy this peaceful time of the day when things are at a basic standstill here at the ranch. My spouse was putting his dog, Bruno, back into the outside pen after his evening visit. (every dog needs its special time!) I heard the pen gate open and then the yelling commenced. “Karen, I need you now. I need you Right now – hurry!” I could tell by the tone of voice that there was an emergency.

I flung the bead tray to the floor and raced, barefooted out the back door. “Get the dogs!” I didn’t even stop to ask “why”, but immediately called the dogs. Luckily, all three came racing into the house where I trapped them and then went back outside. There stood my husband beside a large rattle snake that was coiled, ready to strike and in full rattle. The noise was frightening.

I ran to the garage to get the hoe, but the light was burned out and I couldn’t see anything. I grabbed the first tool I could feel off the wall of garden weapons. When I got to my husband, he was sure the short-handled hoe I had procured was not going to work. Back I went – three times – three different tools that wouldn’t work and the entire time the rattler was making plenty of noise.

Finally, I managed to secure the long-handled hoe and give it to my husband in the dog pen. Then I got my first clear thought since flinging my beads. Chopping that big snake even the long-handled hoe was not a good idea.

I ran back inside and got the gun, praying that it was full of bullets – praying my spouse wouldn’t miss. One shot and it was over – two more shots and we were sure. Snake dead – people relieved – dogs confused.

snake2As snakes go, this was a big rattler. We measured it at four feet in length and about three inches in diameter.

snake1Need I tell you that we didn’t sleep much that night? I’m still “rattled” by the thought of that snake in with my dogs and know that we were all very fortunate. I didn’t know a snake would rattle for such a long time before striking, but I’m certainly glad this one did. It was definitely trying to get us to go away.

So, I definitely recommend flinging beads when needed.  Beads can be replaced, but husbands and pets cannot. Now, if I could just find my glasses that were also on that beading tray pre-fling, I’d be back in business. So, go ahead. Fling those beads and keep your eyes and ears open at Dreamcatcher Ranch.

Dogs, Philosophy, Ranching

Things I’ve Learned Playing Ball . . .

. . . with the dogs. My four blue heelers, cattle dogs, and I try to play ball every afternoon. At first, I did it for them, but over the years, I’ve realized that it’s for me too. Ball playing mid afternoon has become a habit and even if the animals don’t start barking, I know when it’s time to play. For several years when there were only three dogs, the hierarchy of who usually got the ball remained the same. The big mama dog, Cheyenne, had her bluff in on the other two and if she and another dog arrived at the ball at the same time the other dog receded and Cheyenne came back with it. Yet, as she has gotten older and arthritis has set in she has gotten the ball less and less. This is not because the others are now less afraid of her, but because she doesn’t run hard after every throw like she used to. She carefully selects when it is prudent to run and two or three times each day, she runs flat out even though she comes back limping. When she tries this hard I secretly hope that she has retrieved the ball. Hurray for Cheyenne, pictured at the very bottom. She feels good if she actually beats the others but doesn’t seem to enjoy it when I throw it directly to her.

The fourth dog, a male named Bruno, is the puppy who entered our game about a year ago. He’s rough and tough and often acts like a bully. When the older dog, Dixie, the first dog shown below, gets the ball, he chases her and nips at her all the way back to me. I’d whack him if I could catch him, but I can’t. After about four months of this, little Dixie has had all she can take. Dixie Yet, instead of giving up, she is becoming the aggressor. The other day when Bruno got the ball, Dixie nipped at him all the way back to me. Hurray for Dixie! Now when Dixie catches the ball and Bruno tries to bully her, she just stops and walks slowly back to me. Smart Dog! 

The third dog, Frosty, is Cheyenne’s daughter and Bruno’s mother. She is the smallest and the fastest of all my dogs. She leaps high, has a good eye and runs like the wind. Of the four dogs, she is the one that doesn’t display any transgressions other than being wimpy when her mother growls at her. Good dog Frosty.

frost

When Cheyenne gets the ball and is too tired or hurt to run for it anymore, she takes the ball in her mouth and goes into her dog house with it. She will not come out and bares her teeth if I come close or try to reach a stick into the house. The other dogs and I just look at each other. chey We’re not going in there!

I usually keep a second ball in my pocket for when Cheyenne steals the first one and goes to her house. The other dogs appear to appreciate this and rather enjoy playing for a bit without her. Eventually she comes out of the house and we end up with two balls in play. The dogs have now learned that you can’t get two balls in your mouth at the same time. It’s very disconcerting to them and they can’t figure out what to do when arriving at the ball just thrown and there’s already one in the mouth. The dog with this problem usually just stands with the ball in the mouth pressed against the ball on the ground until I arrive to retrieve them both. Heaven forbid that some other dog should get their catches!

Finally, Bruno figured out a plan about what to do when Cheyenne takes the ball toward her house. Yesterday, she took the ball and headed toward her house. I ran to try and head her off before she got there and Bruno rushed ahead and got in Cheyenne’s house. Smart Bruno! Boy was Cheyenne surprised! She considered getting in one of the other houses, but I had them covered. Cheyenne ended up bringing the ball back to the yard and playing with us. Hurray for Bruno!

Bruno

While there are far too many dog/ball episodes to share with you at this time, I can point out a few specifics that I’ve learned from the afternoon exercise.

  1. You can be hurt and still work flat out if you are selective about what you want to do.
  2. Even when you are old and infirm, you still want to win fair and square without any pampering.
  3. When there’s no one who can help you with a bully, sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands.
  4. Good problem solving pays off even if you have to move into someone else’s space.
  5. It’s not becoming to put too much in your mouth at one time.

If you have a dog, pay attention. You might learn something too!