Nature has humbled us

Weather is something we all talk about, complain about and can't do anything
about. For all the ways that man has shaped and changed nature, she still
gets the upper hand on us once in a while. Here in Michigan we are having a
cold, slow spring. Farmers can't get in the field; gardens are way behind
in blooming sequence. Last week we had a day of 80 degree weather, too hot,
too soon, and then yesterday we woke up to snow on the ground, and brief
snow squalls all day.

I am impatient to get on with my garden. I have peas and lettuce planted
and I started cleaning out garden beds but I feel way behind. I just need
to be outside, listening to birds and frogs and digging in the dirt. It
probably won't happen this week, we are scheduled ( does Mother Nature
schedule things?) to have thunderstorms, maybe severe weather tomorrow night
, then back to cold and snow showers mixed with rain and finally near the
end of the week a small warm up- with rain.

But I'm not going to complain too much after seeing the devastation Mother
Nature left in the south. There has been some really bad, scary weather
across the country this spring. Many people have died in the storms and the
property loss is astounding. Now many of you might not get to see much of
this on your local news, after all there is a wedding in England to think
about. Our larger newspapers here carried more stories about the two Brits
wedding than the severe weather in the US.

It seems that tornadoes hone in on trailers- have you ever noticed this? Of
course that's not true - (or is it? Has anyone collected any data on where
tornados hit, vs. the damage they cause? ). It's just that trailers can't
withstand the fury of the winds. Do you wonder with all of the other laws
that we have for our safety why the government still allows people to live
in trailers? At least in trailers that aren't on foundations? All trailer
parks should be required to have storm shelters scattered through the park.

Some huge, sturdy stick built structures also felt nature's wrath. With
everyone having camera phones now the videos of tornadoes and the
destruction afterward is all visible. A particularly poignant scene was
shown several times, porch steps with flowers planted along side, all
unharmed and the house behind the steps just gone-blown away.

Tornadoes have this peculiar way of leaving some things totally untouched
and destroying things around them. I think that's why so many people think
of tornados as sentient beings, capable of picking and choosing their
victims and the path they take. We fear them; as well we should, like we
fear no other weather phenomena. Those that don't fear them are just plain
stupid.

Tornados show us that we are small things in nature after all. They humble
us, we can't control them, and we often can't even predict their path.
They stop us in our tracks and change our lives forever and then the sun
comes out.

Pray for the lives that were lost this week to Nature's wrath. Ask that God
comfort the survivors and that their immediate needs be met. And keep an
eye on the sky, listen for warnings and don't take chances dancing with the
storms.

the life of Bubba

I live in a house dominated by dogs. And when I say dominated by dogs I might as well say overran with dogs, 15 of them, 12 are house dogs. And if that isn’t bad enough, most of them are canine senior citizens so I live in a doggie rest home, a geriatric care center for dogs. It wasn’t a business plan; it’s just the result of a soft spot for dogs, and the passage of time.


This week I had to have one of the dogs we loved put down. (That was the 16th dog.) Bubba wasn’t the oldest of our dogs and certainly not the one I thought we would have to use one of our holes on. Before winter we had dug two holes and saved the soil in the barn. We had two 15 year old frail dogs going into winter and I do hate to have them cremated. But they made it through winter and just as I was thinking about filling in the holes, Bubba got sick.

Bubba was a 10 year old black cocker spaniel. He lived in a kennel connected to our barn with Sarah, a Jack Russell and next to Gus and Brandy, also Jack Russell. These are the only dogs that don’t share our home inside. Bubba was always a happy go lucky dog who loved to eat, so we noticed when he didn’t want a meal one evening. Snacks didn’t tempt him either. He had eaten well in the morning so it didn’t seem too significant. But two days went by and Bubba refused to eat anything. Attempts to try to make him take something in his mouth made him disappear into his outside run.

By Sunday he seemed very lethargic, and while he drank water no food tempted him. I checked him out thoroughly, feeling his stomach to see if he felt bloated or would act like it hurt him, I suspected a blockage. But he didn’t seem to have a tender or bloated belly and didn’t react to me feeling his belly. He just seemed very tired. He was favoring a foot that seemed swollen.

On Monday first thing we visited the vet. Bubba perked up a bit for one of his favorite things, a car ride. Blood tests showed that Bubba was very sick. His red blood cell count was so low the machine couldn’t read it. His liver seemed to be failing. The foot seemed to be an incidental thing, maybe precipitating a crisis that was slowly sneaking up on us. The vet guessed it was auto immune hemolytic anemia, something that happens to older dogs with no apparent reason. We discussed the very expensive options for treatment.

In the end, partially because of finances and partly because the vet gave him a very poor prognosis even with treatment, I held him in my arms as she put him down. Poor Bubba had one more car ride home where my husband laid him into one of our holes in the garden. It is a shame that my finances limit heroic efforts to save my beloved dogs, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care. And maybe it’s better for them anyway; there is a time for all things.

Every dog has a story. Bubba’s wasn’t as remarkable as some dogs but still he had a story. So this is Bubba’s story. Bubba was bred in the south, probably at a puppy mill, but according to his first owner, who went to the south to buy him, he was from a cocker kennel that still bred cockers for hunting. Bubba was a tall, rangy cocker, and he did have a very strong hunting instinct. His jet black coat was pretty good, but he had some white markings on his chest and toes. His tail had been docked especially short, with barely a nub to wag. Despite his AKC papers I suspected that somewhere in his lineage a taller spaniel such as a springer may have been involved. Bubba’s full name was Michigan Bubba.

His first owner worked with my husband Steve. When Bubba was a year old he started to get too rough with the man’s children, according to him. Knowing that we had dogs, he asked my husband to take him, saying that he’d drop him off somewhere in the country if we didn’t want him. Steve is as soft for dogs as I am and brought the dog home from work with him.

We never noticed Bubba being aggressive with our grandchildren, but he was a high energy, extremely active dog that could overwhelm small children with jumping on them and chasing them. We thought we might re-home Bubba, but it never happened. We did put him in an outside kennel, he was very happy outside, rather than spending most of the day in a crate as he had been doing at his previous home. Our kennel runs are very large, and he had two high energy dogs next to him to interact with too. Later on grandmother Sarah came to keep him company. They were good friends, with a zest for hunting in common.

Bubba got to run in the larger fenced yard frequently, he would race in circles until he dropped. Turned out by the pond for the first time he dove in and began to swim after the ducks. They were domestic ducks who didn’t fly but had no trouble swimming just out of Bubbas reach. He swam after them until we grew anxious that he would drown himself. He just kept circling and we could see him getting lower and lower in the water. Steve had to step in water up to his waist and grab him as he swam by to make him rest. He was exhausted but very happy.

One night, long after we were in bed, we heard a commotion in the barn, barking, things banging around. Since Steve had to work the next day and since he was having a hard time with his back at the time I dressed and went out to see what was going on. Bubba had gotten out of his inside kennel and actually tore a panel off the wall that divided the kennel room from the rest of the barn. He was under the steps to the barn loft, where he had cornered a huge opossum.

The possum was just out of his reach and it wasn’t playing dead. It was snarling and growling as aggressively as Bubba was. It took all of my strength to wrestle Bubba away and tie him up while I got rid of the opossum and repaired the wall. I didn’t want him to get bitten by the opossum. Opossums plagued us that year, they would get in the large pine inside the kennel runs at night and just sit there while the dogs went nuts and kept everyone awake. Bubba learned to climb up on one lower limb of the pine that summer and he would spend many a day and night perched on it to better survey the world.

Bubba did not like cats or chickens or varmints of any kind. He would kill them if he came in contact with them. He was generally kind to other dogs, even when females were in heat. This was much in contrast to our Jack Russell’s who would fight at the slightest sneer by another dog. He did defend himself if attacked, but preferred to avoid conflict.

Bubba’s joys in life were running, swimming, hunting through tall grass, going for rides in cars, eating and being petted. He didn’t mind going to the groomer, but gave her a bit of trouble when she touched his feet. He had never been sick until his fatal illness at age 10.

About 18 months after we got Bubba his former owner called Steve at home on a Sunday afternoon and offered him another cocker, a female they had bought after they gave us Bubba. This time the excuse was that she kept their new baby awake with her barking and the wife said she had to go that day. Once again he said he was going to drop her off at a farm somewhere if we didn’t take her.

It turned out that Honey, as she was named, had been bred by a rottweiller. We suspect they knew that. And Honey has her own story. But we now had a registered female cocker and after she had healed from the long travail with her first litter and subsequent complications we decided to breed a litter with Bubba.

Both Bubba and Honey were nice looking, healthy dogs and had very good temperaments. They proved eventually to be a delightful match, the kind of unexpected click that produces puppies even nicer than either parent. But at first we didn’t know if Bubba had it in him to be a daddy. He didn’t seem to be too interested in Honey when I took her to his kennel. She was an eager little hussy, but he seemed reserved and aloof.

After a few days of bringing her to the kennel and waiting I decided to leave her with him for a few hours. It worked, although I wasn’t sure until I saw her start to show. He was a shy breeder but a fertile one. I never saw him breed a dog. Honey had three litters with him and all had 7 or 8 puppies. He also had a litter with Cricket, a larger sized Yorkie- Russell mix we own. She managed to get inside his kennel someway when she was in heat. She was fine, although we worried, and she produced 5 puppies.

We still have two of Bubba’s kids with us. Barack is his 2 year old son, a beautiful almost mirror image of his dad and Bessie is his 6 year old daughter by Cricket. She looks like a Scottie. Barack is a delightful dog, extremely good looking and smart, without a mean bone in his body. He is the baby of our dog family.

Bubba was the kind of dog that didn’t cause trouble often. When you have a large family of dogs you try to love them all and give equal attention but I have to say Bubba probably didn’t get all the attention he probably wanted. He was ok with that though, always happy, always ready for a treat. Although a heavy eater he was never fat, always lean and active up to a few days before he became ill.

It’s hard to believe he’s gone. There was little time to prepare for his loss. But he rests in peace in our little pet cemetery. Bye Bubba. Sarah says she’ll see you soon.

Its a good thing February is a short month

My canary sang a little bit today. I was playing the songs of a goldfinch
and he responded. He has not sang all winter so I am taking it as a sign
that winter will soon be over. Please let it be over. We haven't had it as
bad as some places this winter but it has been so cloudy and cold. Its
sunny right now nut it may be the only day this week and the sun just means
the cold front- high pressure system is moving in. But I'll take the sun.

My hens are responding to the lengthening days though and we are getting
lots of eggs. The little black Silkie hen and her friend the Frizzle
rooster are busy scouting the barn for a good nest site. They should
produce some interesting babies.

I really wish we would get warm enough for grass to grow. My horses are
starting to look thin. They are getting as much grass hay as they can eat
but I think its low calorie. Since Lily foundered again this winter there
can be no grain or even better hay. I long for the days when she can just
roam the fields eating when and where she wants. She doesn't seem to
founder then, (except when she gets under apple trees) just when penned up.
Maybe it's the exercise.

Chance the crippled mini we took in last fall actually seems to be doing
fine on the hay - he needed to thin down. But he is acting like a stud, and
even though tiny, he's got to be gelded soon. The old adage - there is no
such thing as a free horse - is ringing in my ears.

I'm picking out little starter perennials from our Master Gardener
Association plant sale and that helps, planning the garden. I just hope it
won't be one of those springs when everything needs to be done at once.
One day its 30 degrees, the next 80 degrees type of thing. I guess any kind
of spring weather would suit me right now.

Mostly birds

It's dripping away here today. The temperatures rose to above 40 degrees a
small heat wave that is much appreciated after the cold we have been having.
But this wetness isn't as great for livestock and pets as people would
think. Many will get sick from the weather change. Wading and walking in
icy water in pens and pastures then walking in the still chilly air is one
reason. Heavy coats cause sweating and then animals get chilled from being
wet. Respiratory disease climbs in confined animals.

I take a cautious joy in the moderate warmth however. Even without much sun
the air smells like spring and the birds are starting to sing. Some
ambitious sparrows are building a nest in a drain pipe that became
disconnected by the house. They are flying back and forth with chicken
feathers from the barn to line their nest, making it fluffy and warm. They
seem to prefer white feathers, although we have fewer white feathered
chickens than dark and there should be less white feathers.

The birds at the feeder are starting to show a bit of spring mating color.
The starlings spots are fading and the yellow of the goldfinches is getting
brighter. My canary inside however, still isn't singing. He needs a mate
and I am determined to find one for him. Canaries are harder to find than
they used to be. I think I may try to raise some.

I'd also like to find a Bourbon red tom turkey. Checked prices for Bourbon
red chicks today and found them up to nearly $10 each. My hens are
excellent sitters, I bet they could hatch a couple hundred dollars worth of
chicks if they had a tom. They sat on a clutch back in December, I'm hoping
if I found a tom they'd lay again this spring.

Thinking about buying some muscovy ducks too. They are getting banned in
some states as they go wild easily and then compete with native ducks rather
successfully. But we had them years ago and I liked them. They are a South
American breed and are slightly different genetically from domestic ducks
and North American native ducks. They can mate with domestic ducks but
most of the young are sterile then. The males have a big ugly lump on the
face and are a lot larger than the females. There are many colors in the
muscovy.

Yep that's what I need, more animals to feed.

after the blizzard

On Wednesday, the day of our big snow storm, I stayed inside all day except
to trudge through snow up to my knees to go to the barn for chores twice.
I didn't want to shovel a path yet because of the way the wind was blowing
and drifting the snow as well as the continuing snow. We got about a foot
of snow but the drifts made it seem like more. But on Thursday the sun was
out and decisions needed to be made- should we wait for a helpful neighbor
with a plow or start to dig ourselves out?

Normally after a heavy snow one of two neighbors comes by and gives us a
helping hand with their plow. Our driveway is relatively short, maybe 50
feet, and it doesn't take them but a few minutes. We knew they'd be out
making money though and would probably put a free job at the bottom of the
list. We had no where we needed to go until Friday.

The path to the barn though, was a priority, as was cleaning off the steps
at the back entrance. So Steve, sitting in his wheel chair, and I took
turns cleaning a nice path to the barn, big enough for the wheel chair.
Right at the barn door the snow had drifted to over 3 feet and you had to
step down to go in the barn. The turkeys were happy because now there was
a clean spot for them to walk outside the barn a bit. The barn cats were
happy because they now had a spot to go out and potty in - generally the
middle of the path.

With the sun out and the wind less, the day didn't feel too bad. I made
Steve go in and rest. I cleaned off the car, dug a path to and around it and
then started the driveway, just in case. I started at the end of the
driveway and dug out the huge mound the county snowplow had thrown up when
it cleared the road. Then I went up and started behind the car. I figured
if I could dig out where it had drifted I might be able to get through the
rest if needed.

After I had cleaned out about 15 feet or so I had to quit. My heart was
pounding and my bad shoulder aching. I thought I would do some more today.
When I got up this morning I really was feeling my back and shoulder so I
was pleased as punch to see that early this morning one of our beautiful
neighbors had ran his plow up the drive and cleared most of the snow out.
Thank the lord for good neighbors.

We went to the grocery store, the roads here in the country get plowed
fairly quickly, but they tend to drift back over quickly too. In some
places only a single lane was open. There were drifts easily 6 feet high
along some roads. But our trip was uneventful. And when we came home my
neighbor caught me unloading groceries and had me move my car so he could
clean the drive a bit better.

We noted that one farmer had actually plowed an area of his horse pasture -
I guess so the horses could get around. I kept Chance, the crippled mini
locked inside Wednesday but he was eager to be out Thursday and I let him
out with Lily. By today they had beaten down some paths and were able to
get around where they wanted to go. The dogs have a nice well worn path
from the doggie door to under the big red pine, where the snow was much
lighter.

Rabbits have been making paths too, it amazes me that they can get through
this snow but I guess they have to if they want to eat. I hope they don't
start eating my tree bark. Darn squirrels have been on my porch again, they
don't need to get in the snow to find food. They are raiding the bag of
sunflower seed for the birds. The day of the big storm was groundhog day -
as if any groundhog around here would be out in that weather. You can bet
that there is 6 more weeks of winter.

The sad story is that in a small town north of here a young guy is missing.
He was coming home from work at a fast food joint- why they stay open in bad
weather is beyond me- and rolled his car. Witnesses saw him crawl out, and
he told them he was ok. They offered him a lift but he declined and began
walking down the road in nothing but a T-shirt and jeans. In the howling
blizzard. That should have been a clue to them that he was probably in
shock. Anyways he never made it home, and they haven't found him. He is
probably in a ditch somewhere although I pray for a happy ending. All his
family and friends are helping look for him and it's very sad.

There are several lessons here. All of you young ones should always have a
winter coat, hat, gloves and boots in the car in the winter, even if you don't
wear them except in an emergency. Put them on if you need to get out of the
car. And if you witness an accident and someone is acting irrationally
afterwards even if they say they are ok, call for help and stay near until
it arrives. Save a life. And for heaven's sake stay home when the roads
are so bad. It should be a law that everything that is not essential like
hospitals close during severe weather. I know people need the money but
risking your life for a minimum wage job- or almost any job- is just crazy.

All things pass and this lousy winter will too. I just hope it passes
quickly.

dying birds and fish

I don't know what to think of the massive bird and fish die offs in several
places around the world in the first week of January except to say I don't
think its coincidence or fireworks. There were also several incidences of
bird and fish die offs in late December that were not widely reported.

Fireworks as a cause is laughable. Fireworks displays go off thousands of
times a year and birds don't die. And why would only Red Winged Blackbirds
die? Why not other birds? I think even the most scientifically challenged
can rule fireworks out as a cause, despite several so called officials
telling us that's the answer.

Then there's biblical prophecy. Of course God can do anything but why would
he pick certain species in certain places and not one event consisting of
all species of birds or fish across the world? Much more scary.

It's the picking of a species - Red Winged Blackbirds, turtle doves, and so
forth that bothers me. Natural causes don't work this way. I haven't been
able to find out whether only male Red Winged blackbirds were killed. All
the pictures show the black bodied bird with red wing patches. That's the
male. Females and young birds are brown with brown and white striped
bellies. If it was only males then that is extra odd.

Laboratory results seem to rule out disease and poisoning. The blue tissue
around the mouth of the doves that died in Italy appears to be from lack of
oxygen. That happens when your neck breaks or your lungs explode. Cause
of death seems to be trauma from falling out of the sky- at least in the
birds or maybe asphyxiation first then trauma. That's almost certainly
true- but what caused them to fall or explode internally?

Weather events once again don't pick certain species. So I think we can
rule out tornados and microbursts. But weather certainly may have been a
factor. It's more plausible in the case of fish dying from unusual cold but
then again why one species? Many species are cold sensitive. I am not a
fish expert so I don't know if the species that died were even susceptible
to death from cold.

Polar magnetic shift is being blamed but once again that should affect more
than one species in a small area. Sunspots and such would also affect more
than one species at a time. Gas such as methane would kill more than one
species. The limiting of the events to a species at a time is the key here.

I think what we can safely surmise is that these events were caused
accidentally or deliberately by something men did. ( Some people think
extraterrestrials may also have done it but I'm passing on that theory.)
There are several interesting ideas floating around. All kinds of "waves"
are being tested in secret private and military bases around the word, radio
waves, microwaves, something called Placer energy waves and other things.
Current technology seems to be trying to focus on being able to use these
energy wave weapons to target specific species, probably man, but why not
try it out on a few birds at first?

And some pesticide company, maybe one that already has many specie specific
pesticides out there may be trying to use energy waves, sound waves or
something to target pest birds, which the bird species that we have heard
about are considered to be. Kill the blackbirds leave the cardinals.

It could be that the microwaves, sound waves, radio waves or what ever were
supposed to be doing other less lethal things like pinging aliens but were
deflected or amplified by abnormal weather conditions or some feature of the
landscape. Once again we have the problem of a single species at a time
dying.

Black birds and doves do use special brain areas to coordinate flocking
behavior so I suppose a "wave" that disrupted this function might leave
other species which don't flock unharmed. And these birds do roost close
together so a very small "leak" or reflection of some kind might result in
one species dying because that's where it hit. That's back to coincidence-
hmmmmn - maybe that's what officials mean by coincidence.

The sad result is that we will probably never know the answer. Whether its
cover up or just ignorance we'll probably never know- hey is there a
wiki-leak on this?

Christmas and books

Christmas has come and went in Clifford. It was a quiet one for us. We
were awakened early Christmas morning by the dogs, almost as if they
understood what day it was and wanted their presents. Since we have
followed the same ritual of going to my parents on Christmas Eve and coming
home a bit later than normal, maybe some of the older dogs do recognize the
significance. It is Hazels 15th Christmas with us after all and Bugsy,
Cricket, and Sadie have logged 13 Christmases with us.

The dogs got new toys, some of which were squeaky and like little kids
playing with a new drum set they are driving us a bit crazy from time to
time squeaking them. Soon however they will be chewed apart and the squeak
"killed".

One of the new toys was pilfered off the counter a few days before Christmas
and disappeared outside. But it has re-appeared now that there are plenty
of toys to go around. Ginger immediately appropriated the stuffed snowman
toy on Christmas morning. She loves toys, especially stuffed ones that
remind her of a small animal. She carried that thing everywhere for a few
days, even jumping up in our laps with it. The older dogs were more
interested in the chewy rolls and special treat of canned dog food.

I picked up some small candy canes for the horses. Horses love peppermint.
Lily very much appreciated the gift, although Chance was a bit skeptical at
first. The chickens and turkeys got greens for a present and the barn cats
canned food. The canary got a few hulled sunflower seeds. All creatures
great and small were gifted.

I got to read a few books over the holidays, even though I did a lot of
baking and candy making. There was no good TV shows so I read instead. I
read Of Bees and Mist,(Setiawan) an odd story set in what must be an
alternate world, and Larry McMurtry's Rhino Ranch, also a bit odd, and Eight
Days to Live,(Johansen) a spooky thriller, lots of action, with a bit of the
supernatural. All of them I would recommend, although Rhino Ranch somewhat
disappointed me as there was not much of a story there unlike McMurtry's
other westerns.

I am going to dip into my reading box again before New Years. I buy books
from time to time and put them in a box on a shelf in my office until I have
time to read them. A lot of them come from book clubs- I can't resist those
get 5 books for a dollar things although I usually regret it later. When I
read I get really absorbed in the book- my husband will attest to this, and
it rarely takes me more than three days of reading in the evening to finish
a book. There is some danger in reading in the evening- especially if you
have to work the next day. Just one more chapter syndrome makes you plenty
tired the next day.

Winter- what is it good for? Reading!