Doggin' It, Doggone It

Most dogs that have never been leashed show it when you put them on a lead. They are constantly pulling you one way or the other, right?

Not this guy. You'd swear someone taught him how to "heel." On a leash, that is.

In recent years I've never walked a dog on a leash. Hell no. I've seen people walking on country roads with their dog on a leash and thought, shaking my head, that they clearly had no idea that a rural road is a perfectly safe place for an off-leash dog and were being over-cautious city folk.

So judgy.

Now I have learned of at least three good reasons why you might walk your dog on a leash, even on a rural road:

1. It doesn't always keep up with you as it explores the ditches, and if it's a small dog like Ducky, a coyote or maybe even a fox could dash out from somewhere and carry it off. That's what Scott's afraid of, and bids me keep Ducky close. I'm not good at that, as I tend to forget about him and by the time I remember, he's a quarter-mile behind, sussing out something in the grass beside the road.

2. Your dog spots some wild animal and takes after it, and doesn't listen when you call him back for his own safety. That wild animal could turn on him or lead him far enough away that he could get lost, and you, running behind, will never catch up in time.

3. A vehicle is coming so you call your dog to your side and he trots along next to you until the moment when the vehicle reaches you, when the fool animal dashes out in front of it. My dogs have done that a thousand times. We are fortunate in that most everyone who drives along our road slows down to a crawl to make sure they don't run over the dogs, but sometimes it's someone who doesn't.

So, while it feels silly to walk on our road with Ducky Doodle on a leash, those are my reasons. He makes it easy and he's safe; I don't have to worry about where he is. Win-win.

It's another perfect fall day and Mr. Doodle and I are about to head down the road to take advantage of it.

Little Coyote Moves In

“I’d be using my rifle,” the vet said. “Once a coyote gets comfortable in your yard … the next thing you know, your chihuahua will disappear.”

A young coyote has been frequenting our yard so it is apparently time to get a territorial dog to warn it off. The search has extended to Facebook, animal shelters and veterinary clinics. 

Ducky Doodle doesn’t get out of our sight, but things could happen fast. We’d also like our barn cat not to become coyote food. We’re fond of the rabbit that appears in the yard too.

Still, there is part of me that is thrilled to spot the coyote when I step outside, or to see it heading away from me, down the driveway. I've been concerned that it isn't much more than a pup, just a half-pint, and maybe it is orphaned or lost. One night it sat crying just beyond our living room window, sounding alone and lonely. I did some internet research and found that coyote pups often leave their mothers in August, so maybe this is normal. 

Ducky did chase it off one day and it ran, but one day it might not, and it did no good for me to run after the two of them, calling for Ducky to come back. He ignored me in his excitement. 

There is a mature row of tall lilacs right off our step, and behind them are a couple crabapple trees and then another row of elms and poplars. We think the coyote is eating the crabapples that have fallen on the ground, as it seems to come and go from that area. The other day it must have heard me come out the door, and I saw it leave the yard by going along one side of the barn and toward the pasture.

I followed to see how far it would go.

Not far. It was laying just west of the barn, watching me, and the cattle were unconcerned. Obviously they're used to this little one. 

I advanced with my camera and the young coyote got up and made its way slowly down the fenceline, stopping every few feet to look back at me.

No doubt I'm being foolish, but I'm friendly toward the little beast and pleased every time I see it. If it's necessary, I'd far rather a dog push it out of the yard than to kill it "just in case."

From Wikipedia:

"Coyotes may occasionally form mutualistic relationships with American badgers, assisting each other in digging up rodent prey. The relationship between the two species may occasionally border on apparent friendship, as some coyotes have been observed laying their heads on their badger companions or licking their faces without protest. The amicable interactions between coyotes and badgers were known to pre-Columbian civilizations, as shown on a Mexican jar dated to 1250–1300 CE depicting the relationship between the two."

Believe it, or not? Not sure I do. Wikipedia is famous for its misinformation. 

Building Ivan's Coffin

Scott's dad passed away last Wednesday in the nursing home where, due to health issues and dementia requiring 24-hour supervision, he lived for the past three years. While Ivan adjusted well to his new environment, he never stopped wanting to come home with whoever was visiting. In his mind, he had always put in a hard day's toil on the farm and would describe his labours in some detail. "If only other people worked as hard as me!" he said recently.

He left in a manner most people would like to make their exits, we figure: one minute in his chair pulled up to a table; the aide turns away to set something on the counter, turns back, and he is gone.

Ivan was all about farming: he loved the hardworking farmers' life, the land, the crops, the horses, the cattle, all of it. There'd be no suit worn on the day of his funeral; instead, he'd be duded up in blue jeans and a plaid shirt, which surely he would have chosen himself — the same outfit he wore every day to work on the farm.

With his family's approval, Scott decided to build his dad's coffin for the "western" funeral they were planning. On Sunday morning he got to work in front of the Quonset in our yard with his son Gunnar:

Scott's dear friend Rick (left) came to help; Scott is at the far right with Gunnar.  

In keeping with the western theme, siding from one of the old granaries on the farm provided the covering for the casket:

Installing the eight handles, because Ivan was a large man and the coffin too was weighty.

Scott's sister Lynn pitched in*, as did her son Ryan:

On Monday the coffin was taken over to Scott's mother's (and brother's) for final touches. Of course, plaid flannel:

Gunnar and Scott's brother Bruce place the pillow for Ivan's head. 

This little decoration was added, a tribute to Ivan's life as a farmer:

The coffin was then loaded up and taken to the funeral home. A little later it came back in a hearse, carrying Ivan's body. The top was removed out in the farmyard for one last viewing of a very beloved man by his grieving family, including nieces and nephews who live in the area. Some of Ivan's favourite things were tucked in beside him, among them the mitts he was always, still, looking for so he could go outside and get to work. 

These sombre, painful, disbelieving moments were followed by the sealing of the casket and then one last drive past the land where Ivan grew up and spent most of his adult life. The hearse led the procession of vehicles, which made a six-mile loop on the gravel roads before Ivan took his last trip to town. 

*Not everyone who helped construct and finish the coffin is shown in these photographs.  There was quite a large group working side-by-side, doing the one last thing they could do for their loved one, and doing it together.

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Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "Birthday in the Field": 

A cold and harvest season, what a birthday! Wishing a Happy Birthday to Scott, or is it a... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iL2Wm-PcfPo 

Ha! I wish Scott had time for a tea party! Instead he's out in the field this morning (Saturday), coughing and hacking. 

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Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "Just Because": 

The comments here are very insightful and have me thinking. I would call myself "sensitive" to what others say, as well as being "sensitive" to having upset others. But when I trust someone that they would care about how I feel, it is far easier to bear hearing words I don't care for; when that trust exists my reaction, immediate, or late, is welcomed in return. The flip side for me is when people feel free to impose their world view on a sitation, I often adopt the "do unto others" stance and impose a quite different world view into their universe... those conversations don't tend to last very long, and they seldom recurr between myself and the given individual. One person on Facebook told me she didn't want know what I thought, she only wanted to hear from people who agreed with her; and I found that kind of refreshing, because it was an honest statement, even if I didn't respect her approach. 

People don't seem to listen, that's true, let alone understand or change their minds very often. 

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "Birthday in the Field": 

Best wishes to Scott on his chocolate-cakeless birthday 

He didn't even eat the ice cream or a piece of fudge when he came in after dark last night! That's when you know he's feeling crappy. 

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Birthday in the Field

Scott’s 57^th birthday is today. Now he can be as wise as me ... for the next four months.

And he has just gone out the door into the cold morning air, after sweating out some of his own cold overnight. I slept on the couch in hopes of avoiding catching it.

As I walk down the road these past few days you might hear my deep sighs of contentment and relaxation. The fall weather is glorious. 

I love being in the field at this time of year, so have asked if there is anything I can do to help. So far, not, but that may change. One year I drove the bale wagon around the field. Any time I’ve driven a tractor or combine I’ve liked it, although I wouldn’t if it was a super-hot day or if there were mosquitoes or horseflies getting into the cab. I'd be a fairweather farmer, right? These guys have a lot more stamina than I do. They've got mail carriers beat, too. 

As usual, it’s full-steam-harvest on Scott's birthday so we can’t plan anything. Last night I asked if he’d like a chocolate cake or had another preference. He thought not, as sweets aren't good for a cold. So maybe later, then.

Walking home from Scott's mom's place; best sky was always this stretch of road, when we lived in that farmyard 

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1. 
   Maggie Turneron Just Because

   Well, amen to that Kate! When silence is the response to something I've said, even if it is silence with a smile, if there is no eye contact, I always feel the tension, and sometimes I ask about it, depending on the circumstances. I know too that silence on my part, particularly if it is accompanied by a smile, is almost always interpreted as total agreement, which always takes me by surprise, because how could two humans ever totally agree on something that is expressed in language alone.
   
   Having said that, it is possible that I totally agree with you in never understanding people who put political ideals above human life, or even human liberty. It came of no surprise to me that democracy developed in a culture where slavery was the norm [Periclies], idiocy.

   "Silence is interpreted as agreement." Exactly. That's a serious misinterpretation. -K
2. 
   Julieon Just Because

   Hi,
   Good post. A lot of people are aware that they are "sensitive." This means to us, as I count myself among this group, that we are deeply affected by what others say to us. Lately, I noticed that habitually rude people are also deeply sensitive to what we, the supposedly kinder gentler folk, say to them. I began to think that people who are often critical and angry are just as sensitive to what is said to them and they are choosing offense rather than defense to protect their gentle selves. All this is psychology, I guess, which is a system of thought that has its limitations. I think we all need to get over our childhoods, once we have become a bit more aware of how that time influenced us, and we need to live in the present.
   
   As you say, harsh words do affect people and should be used sparingly, I figure. Such unnecessary damage, really!

   And I'm not even talking particularly about "harsh" words. They are sometimes quite matter-of-fact and sometimes they are even true words, but often we don't think twice about whether they should be said or whether it's our place to say them. I'm all for honesty and directness, but I'm also all for kindness and consideration, and sometimes there's a conflict that isn't taken into account when we run off at the mouth being all truthful. - K
3. 
   Joan McEwan on Just Because
4. Oh oh..... What did I say?????

Ha Ha! As soon as I posted "Just Because" I received a text asking who I was pissed off at. 

I was actually thinking about the times I've said things that probably offended someone else, but that person didn't say so. -K.

1. 
   Annette Ericksonon Just Because

   So, so many times I've wanted to turn back time so I could say what I had to say but, the moment which would have been appropriate to say so has passed and doing so would no longer be relevant or appropriate. Some of us just take longer to formulate our thoughts into words, especially when we don't have a pen in our hands or a keyboard at our fingertips.

That's right. Also, we can say things with all good intentions, and they can be misinterpreted by someone who has a soft spot we weren't aware of. -K.

Just Because

Just because someone doesn’t react immediately doesn’t mean they aren’t hurt, offended or angry. Just because they only say “Oh” doesn’t mean they agree with you.

How many times I’ve spoken my mind and assumed no harm was done. I didn’t intend any, so my words were taken in stride, right?

Well no, not necessarily. We are often shocked by blunt truths as well as unkind judgments or rude and uncalled-for, poorly thought-out remarks, and don’t respond in the moment they are heard. As the day wears on, we think about what was said, our feelings surface, and we become aware of our genuine, deeper response. We may find ourselves quite pissed off, although the perfect moment to say so to the speaker has passed.

We could’ve said “this,” we think, or “that,” but we didn’t think fast enough. Maybe we didn’t want to seem rude or unkind ourselves or make a scene, so we let it go. Maybe we thought the speaker was a fool and correcting him or her was a waste of energy. We may not be engaging with this person again or often, so there’s no point in taking him or her to task. 

What I’m saying is that just because your listener doesn’t tell you to shut the hell up, fuck off and mind your own business, you idiot, doesn’t mean that isn’t exactly what they are thinking.

Showers have made it difficult to get the baling done.

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Lorna on "Frida": 

I find Frida fascinating but not very lovable. And that's from the woman known as Pollyanna. 

Those who knew her said she was charming, had quick, light movements like a hummingbird, and was generous and loving to her friends and many others. 

What I find difficult to reconcile is how she could ever have become a supporter of Stalin. What was she thinking? He was a murderous thug and everyone knew it. I'll never understand how it is that otherwise sensible people put political ideals before human life. Never.

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I Still Miss Someone

"Written by Johnny Cash, made famous by Dolly Parton."

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Maggie Turner on "Frida": 

Condolences to Scott and the family. What a wonderful ritual, sons and grandsons building the coffin, so respectful and full of love.

I also find Frida Kahlo a fascinating individual, thanks for the link. 

Thank you, I'll pass that along. 

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Frida

I didn't do much reading over the summer. This I know because it took me more than a month to finish the biography of Frida Kahlo. It was borrowed from a friend, so there was no need to be concerned about overdue notices from the library, where I get most of my reading material. I took the book at a leisurely pace, often in short increments, till the very end. 

Poor Frida. What a hard life she had. I mean, a lot of physical suffering and a lot of emotional pain. Perhaps the two go hand-in-hand. But she certainly met her days with courage and stamina, and consciously made the best of what she had to work with. 

The book also helped me make sense of her paintings by delving into the symbolism in each one. I need that; when meaning isn't obvious, I miss a lot. Before these explanations, I found many of Kahlo's paintings macabre and even childish. Now, after becoming acquainted with her better, I understand that she knew herself very well and knew that it is the personal in life that is the most important thing to share. She knew that the personal is universal, and that what one of us feels intensely, we all experience at some time or other.  

Here is one of my favourites: 

Frida with her favourite "escuincle" dog.

It's the tiny "escuincle" dog that amuses me so much. Frida actually had a number of hairless Xoloitzcuintli dogs. Perhaps "escuincle" was her way of spelling it in English, or maybe it was her nickname for the dog, but the word itself is funny (to me).

Frida, after a traffic accident that nearly killed her, endured severe medical treatments for the rest of her short life. Some were torture. She had to wear body casts or corsets that kept her immobile for months sometimes. She often painted them:

I've seen the movie Frida once before, starring Salma Hayek, but now I want to see it again.

Here is a documentary where a lot of spoken text is taken directly from the bio I just read, by Hayden Herrera:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4gkhUDofKY

And now I must get a move on. There is a coffin to be built in our yard. Scott's dad passed away on Wednesday afternoon and this is a labour of love that Scott is sharing with his son and other family members. I am going to make a vat of BEAN DISH so they have something to snack on when they come in to warm up, as it's cool and rainy out there. 

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Maggie Turner on "Tricking the Lazy Self": 

That old familiar inertia! Where does it come from I wonder. I have to talk myself into going for my walk almost every day. Your approach using incremental conditions works for me too, it is like priming a pump. 

I'm glad I'm not the only one who needs to play games with herself in order to do what is healthy for a mind and body. I get kind of down on myself for not being more disciplined and ambitious, when maybe this is simply human nature. 

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Lorna on "Tricking the Lazy Self": 

Trickster! 

You called it. I love harmless tricks.
Since my friend Cathy, the laundry queen, told me you can dye fabrics in your washing machine, I do it all the time. Yesterday I decided to dye the white kitchen curtains a wine colour, like the ones in the living room. Except they came out pink instead. I am not happy with myself; should've checked to see what the fabric was, first. Anyway, I've hung them back up for now (I see shopping in my future) and have been waiting for Scott to notice and comment. He hasn't, or if he has, he hasn't said a word. If he does, I'm going to pretend they've always been that colour. 

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Tricking the Lazy Self

One might think it would be easy to make a habit of getting outside every day, but sometimes the thought of a brisk three-mile walk is daunting enough that I'll find excuses not to go, or allow myself to be distracted by other activities and responsibilities and forget until it's getting dark and unsafe to be on the road with a little dog.

So I play a game of strategy. I tell myself that I only have to go to the end of the driveway, and there I'll decide whether to carry on and for how long. This works quite well because if I'm dressed for action — half the battle because Saskatchewan weather often requires a fleecy, a windbreaker, a scarf, a hat, and ear protection even in the summer, and I also carry a bottle of water, my iPhone in case I want to listen to a podcast, and a notebook and pen in case "profound revelations" come to me — the fresh air and birdsong and trees and sky tend to draw me further out, so I don't want to come back in. If I don't have all this stuff with or on me but get out there anyway, the outdoors can be so compelling that it's no problem to come back into the porch and gear up to walk further.

Early morning walk; where the driveway meets the road. 

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Maggie Turner on "Peaceful Mind": 

Peace of Mind, I too could use some of that right now!

LOVE your photo, very peaceful. 

And still a few ducks on that little pond, too.

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Maggie Turner on "Throwing Out the Stopwatch": 

Those are two happy looking dogs! 

They like nothing better than running.

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Throwing Out the Stopwatch

What if I stop counting? 

Stop counting miles while walking, breaths while holding yoga poses, and dollars in my pocket. 

Just stop.

I think I’ll do that.

I greet Lucy and Sara one morning on my way to town. They are Scott's brother's dogs.

They're following a tractor to our place but take a moment to say hello.

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Lorna on Flowery Speech": 

I have no comment, only awe at the undertaking. 

I've been a slacker in the garden most of the summer so I'm ready for this. Any hesitation is due to my desire to find good homes for the flowers. A couple people have spoken for some, which helps. I refuse to throw them on a dirt pile to die.

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