wolfhounds

Thanksgiving – Day 1110

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Pacha’s Cone of Protection – Photo: L. Weikel

Thanksgiving

I’ve started and deleted this Thanksgiving post so many times, I’ve lost count. Having snagged only four hours of sleep last night and then wedged in a five hour round trip holiday visit, I’ve also dozed off between attempts write something meaningful. Alas, even these simple introductory sentences deserve to meet the same fate as their predecessors: to be deleted and rewritten. Nothing I write feels right tonight.

There’s so much I want to say, and at the same time, it just all feels heavy. Or said already. And you know how sometimes you can say something too many times and the magic just goes up in a puff of smoke? I guess I’m facing one of those moments.

Thanksgiving Bluebird – Photo: L. Weikel

In Spite of Everything

Yes, I started this day on only four hours of sleep. That’s a big contributor to my current state of fogginess. It’s catching up to me. But in spite of everything, Karl and I still managed to embrace the day’s sunshine and balmy temperatures to fit in a walk-about – our four mile sojourn through local hill and dale. This was a special treat because Karl hasn’t been able to walk with me as much over the past several months.

But today he did. And for that, I’m grateful.

Watchers – Photo: L. Weikel

So Many Witnesses

It almost felt as though we were in a Thanksgiving Day parade. Our walk was lined with local fauna stepping up and waving to us as we passed by. So many of the creatures about whom I’ve written in these past 1109 posts seemed to show up – or in some cases, simply let their voices ring out in greeting.

First was a bluebird, so strikingly beautiful in the late afternoon sunshine.

The pups had their first encounter with the Hounds of the Baskervilles – which left them a bit trembly, even though Pacha had a cone of protection.

A pileated woodpecker called out to us incessantly and flew alongside us from tree to tree as we climbed a steep hill. On the other side of the road, a herd of deer monitored our progress navigating the hill and conversing with the massive woodpecker.

About a mile later, coyotes howled in the bowels of High Rocks while a Great Horned owl’s hooting added another layer to the message.

Gratitude

The very fact that I can write about all these creatures sharing in and contributing to our walk  on this gorgeous November day (and having Karl to share it as well) gives me more to be grateful for than I can ever express.

Another exquisite sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

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Off His Game – Day 1043

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Spartacus: “I don’t feel well, Mommy” – Photo: L. Weikel

Off His Game

I’m distracted this evening. I’m worried about my Spart-man. As soon as I woke up this morning, I noticed he was ‘off his game.’ For one thing, he hadn’t come back upstairs to cuddle with me after his morning rendezvous with the elements. (Karl lets him out early, but Spartacus always – always – come back upstairs to cuddle with me. Every morning. Without fail.)

Anyway…when I came downstairs looking for my cuddle-bug, I found him outside, just standing underneath the bird feeders looking…lost. And forlorn. And frazzled, to be honest. The hair along his backbone was standing on edge – the way it looks when we walk past his buddies the wolfhounds and they talk smack to him.

It’s fine when his hair bristles at the abuse by his wolfhound buddies. It’s quite another when there’s no discernible…anything…going on.

His position the entire day – Photo: L.Weikel

Off His Game

I knew immediately that something was ‘off.’ He looked at me and the usual joy that beams out of his eyes wasn’t there. It was as if he was distracted, which perhaps he was. I think he was feeling ill and didin’t know what to do with those feelings.

I called him and chirruped in my most enthusiastic voice, but to no avail. He acted like he didn’t even want to climb the three steps to our porch. He did so, eventually, but not without exuding a sense of extreme malaise. There wasn’t even a hint of tail-wagging to be observed.

He drank a bit of water, but had no interest in food. I think I can count on one hand the times this boy has ever been disintererested in food. But…ok. Things happen. I was not going to get worried by a little stomach growler.

Things Only Got Worse

As the day wore on, Spartacus became more and more lethargic. Basically, he slept the entire day. But beyond that, he barely moved. That wouldn’t bother me all that much if the sleeping yielded even an ounce more pep. But it did not. We couldn’t even coax him to stand up.

Several more hours went by. The sun was setting and the moon was rising and it was time to take our walk. Spartacus, my baby. Can’t you shake this bug off yet, bunny?

I put his harness on in the hopes that it would inspire him to at least give a walk a try. Our walks are legend. And besides, I figured if he ate something that disagreed with him he might have to ‘get things moving’ in his innards and a walk might be just the ticket to his recovery.

Alas, no dice. He barely stood up long enough for me to secure his harness before immediately resuming his prone position on his massive pillow. Undaunted (and a bit shameless, I’ll admit), I offered him a treat. Nope.

Even the Wolfhounds Sensed Something

Even the wolfhounds recognized his absence. Entirely uncharacteristically, they turned their backs on me as I walked past them. Their buddy Start was nowhere to be seen. They couldn’t be bothered with his human.

“Bah. Where’s the little guy? We’re out of here.” Photo: L. Weikel

While I was walking, Karl brought him inside and tucked him into his softest dog bed. Once I came back, I had a feeling he might need to go to the bathroom. We took him out and he wandered a bit in the dark, but overall, it seemed to be a fruitless endeavor. Fruitless, except perhaps for a bit of some almost-dry heaves. (I’ve wracked my brain to think if he snuffled up anything on our walk last night, but I cannot remember anything unusual. And yes – he walked four miles with me yesterday…)

This is NOT the way Spartacus ever behaves.

Tigger: “What’s wrong with Spart, Mommy?” – Photo: L.Weikel

Present Status

Right now, Cletus is watching over his big brother. They’re both curled up, asleep on the mega pillow we have on our porch. Honestly, it’s the cutest indication of brotherly love. It’s fascinating – the cats all seem a bit perturbed. There’s definitely a disturbance in the force.

I’m not sure if Spart has a bit of a fever and feels better sleeping outside in the coolness of the night air, or what his motivation is for remaining outside. Is it just too much trouble to get up and come inside? It’s unsettling.

Believe me; once I write this and get it posted, I’m going outside and carrying him up to bed. There’s no way I’m going to let him sleep outside when he doesn’t feel well.

He’s my baby. And if he’s not acting more like himself by the time I wake up tomorrow morning, he’s going to visit his doctor. We can only hope it’s just something that needed time to work itself out.

Thanks for listening and maybe even sending some love to our pup.

Cletus having Spartacus’s back – Photo: L. Weikel

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Monday Evening Sightings – Day 1023

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Look right along the edge of the tall grass – Photo: L. Weikel

Monday Evening Sightings

Our walk this evening began a little bit later than usual. While I yearned to move my body, I had zero interest in perambulating through air so hot and thick it felt like I was stepping into a steam room. So I waited until the sun was nearly set, hovering just above the horizon, which cooled things off just enough to make the atmosphere breathable and bearable. We still managed to get in some Monday evening sightings.

Lately, when taking our longer route, we’ve not only been encountering the Hounds of the Baskervilles (always a hair-raising treat for Spartacus – literally), we’ve also been treated to the hilarious sight of one of another neighbor’s ducks running home. It doesn’t seem to matter when we’ve walked over the past week or so, though. I’m starting to wonder if we’re their makeshift alarm clock to return home for the night.

The ducks always know we’re coming, no matter what time we happen to be walking by; we can hardly sneak up on them. Heck, the Hounds either bay eerily from their kennels across the field (sensing our passage along their property line) or barrel toward us with bared teeth and snarling invectives. Either way, they trigger the pups that live with the ducks (a few homes down the road) to pick up the greeting and yap at us furiously. (Yes, one’s definitely a Chihuahua and qualifies as a yapper; he’s an incessant – if adorable – yapper, as a matter of fact.)

Tonight, though, I noticed they were not alone as they scampered in their hilarious duck-waddles across the field to the safety of their home. Look closely; you’ll see.

Baby something… – Photo: L. Weikel

Weird Clouds

The clouds tonight were whimsical and evocative. When they billow and fold, reflect tangerine hues among slate gray shadows, and morph before my eyes, it’s hard for me (and my imagination) to simply look upon them and think, “Meh.”

Here’s one that reminded me of a massive stuffed animal sitting in the western sky. It looked like a stuffed Shar-Pei to me, but now that I’ve uploaded the photo I’m thinking it may look more like a baby hippo.

Close beside the stuffed animal cloud, rising up from behind the trees and shifting shape before my eyes was what I’m calling a Menagerie Cloud. The longer I look at this billowing mass of water vapor the more animals I see.

Menagerie Cloud – Photo: L. Weikel

Saving a Few

I’m saving a few of the photos I took today because I suspect the arrival of the remnants of Hurricane Ida may impinge upon my ability to get out and about over the next few days. While I’ll try to squeeze in a quick walk between the raindrops, we’re just going to have to wait and see.

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Disappointment – Day 980

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Where are they? – Photo: L. Weikel

Disappointment

Sometimes disappointment creeps up on us. It stealthily tiptoes up behind us and jumps out of the bushes when we’re least expecting it. And sometimes we see it coming a mile away – maybe even miles and miles away – but we hope against hope that we’re wrong.

It seems to me there’s more than our share of disappointment in the air at the moment. From witnessing the dramatic shift in the way our system of government conducts itself (or not) to those in power failing to be held accountable for egregious behavior. It’s a disappointment that consequences seem to be visited only upon regular citizens. Masterminds and master manipulators need not worry for a moment. All will be well. Nothing will change in their lives.

Just Weather

And then there’s the disappointment we sentient beings experience when we take a step back and honestly look at the climate alterations that are becoming more and more obvious. How long will it take before those living out west start to realize this is their ‘new normal?’ Yet another ‘heat dome’ settling in over our mostly western states and parts of Canada (the fourth in five weeks!), bringing Idaho of all places their 20th consecutive day reaching 100 degrees or more.

Of course, we all know it’s just weather. It’s certainly not climate change. And even if the climate is changing, it’s not our fault. And since it’s not our fault then we don’t – indeed, shouldn’t – do anything to mitigate it. Thus, we mustn’t reduce or eliminate our use of fossil fuels because (a) China might not do it; and (b) it’s not our fault.

It’s all about blame. And money. And refusing to take responsibility. Who cares if we can’t breathe? Or that we have no water to drink?  Most people (in this country, at least) are sure, deep down, that somebody will take care of us. Somebody will ‘save’ us. And they will, maybe – for a price.

Yeah, that ‘rugged individualism’ looks a lot different when it hits your home. It’s a disappointment people can’t see the truth of that.

Little Things, Too

And then there are the small disappointments in our lives. The personal ones. Witnessing people we know and love refusing to take precautions to keep themselves (and all of us) healthy. Listening to justifications that make no sense because they’re not grounded in reality. Wanting to find common ground again because we care enough to desire a conversation – but finding no traction anywhere anymore.

Or at a very basic level, just wishing we could see our besties again – and having them not show up anymore. Spartacus experienced that profoundly on our walk today, which you can see reflected in these photos.

We haven’t had a chance to take our walk-around (4 mile trek) in several days. It’s just been ‘too damn hot’ – or too rainy. But today we were able to take that longer route and Spartacus was palpably delighted, straining at his harness, yearning to see his ‘buds’ – which I’m not sure is a friendship or more a smack-talking hound fest. Either way, it gets Spart’s adrenalin pumping and he loves his wolfhound neighbors.

Spartacus was the embodiment of disappointment when not a wolfhound was to be seen tearing across the fields toward us, barking in a frenzy of terror-inducing menace. We’ll have to try again tomorrow.

The Embodiment of Disappointment – Photo: L. Weikel

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Call of the Wild – Day 513

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Super Pink Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

Call of the Wild

Aroooo! It’s the Call of the Wild. Or is it the Hounds of the Baskervilles? You’d be forgiven if you involuntarily shuddered, felt goosebumps prickling along your arms, and sensed the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention.

Once again, I wish you could put your finger on the photo below so you could hear the audio that accompanies this ‘live’ photo I took with my iPhone. Alas, you cannot. So you’ll just have to trust me – and trust your own imagination – when I tell you these Wolfhounds create a cacophony of howling, baying, woofing, barking, and growling each and every time we walk past their enclosed fields. Which means pretty much almost every single day.

Tonight was even more special, though. Not only did this guy (or gal, I don’t get close enough to inspect) perform some impressive full moon inspired antics as it bounced its way along the fence spanning the entire stretch of its masters’ property line, but it also got its brothers, sisters, and parents too (we surmise) riled up by extension. The unbelievably hair-raising moans and howls coming from their shelters up by the main house was preternatural – and a perfect accompaniment to the rising Super Pink Moon.

Wolfhound – Photo: L. Weikel

A Quiet Meander

After running the gauntlet of the Howlers this evening, we deliberately took our time walking home this evening. The moon was stunning. Every time we looked at her, a different perspective begged to be exclaimed over, preserved, and shared.

Most of our walk was in silence. The pull of this moon is profound.

Even now, as I write these couple of words to you this evening, I can see her brilliance lighting up the sky as I glance out the window. I sense her presence outside and above me every bit as much as I know, without seeing them in this moment, the shadows her reflected light casts all about us.

We’re All Affected

Let’s face it, we’re comprised more of water than anything else. It stands to reason that we’re profoundly influenced by the magnetic pull of this amazing satellite. I think it’s just that some of us are more aware of her subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) embrace than others.

I hope you had a chance to appreciate her beauty and presence this evening.

Imagine how surprised I was to hear even Brian Williams sign off his “11th Hour with Brian Williams” program on MSNBC tonight with an entreaty that all of us get outside and appreciate the Super Pink Moon.

What an unexpected joy to hear a news program sign off with the value of delighting in gazing at the moon. And even better? He foreshadowed the coming alignment of Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, and the moon in mid-April. Knock me over with a feather.

Super Pink Moon – almost looking like Saturn – Photo: L. Weikel

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