Category Archives: Dogs

Commentary on Religion, Dogs, Health, Humanities, Judaism, Kabbalah, Literature, Myth and Story, Politics, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Science, Torah

This Is Not the Way

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Sunday gratefuls: A day of no-things. Shadow and I outside, drop, walk, stop, drop, turn, walk, drop. Her eagerness. Her five o’clock licking. Sciatica. Morning darkness. The morning service. The Shema. Tara. Ruth, home two days ago, leaving for Alaska today. Gabe, now a senior. Whoa. Mary in Seoul. Seoah, Murdoch. My son. Mark walks to downtown Al Kharj. Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: MRI

Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life.

One brief shining: Sorry, Marines, pain is not weakness leaving the body, no; but, it is a constant reminder of being alive, of still having a body that can identify itself through the jolt that starts in the hip, gathers intensity around the knee, and on occasion flashes to the foot.

 

Back and cancer: Get MRI results tomorrow. Buphati at 3 pm. On Friday I see Kylie my Army officer retired P.A. for preparation. I have a SPRINT device in my future. The bogo MRI. Checking for cancer and readying me for a pain reduction, elimination procedure. Rare confluence of medical care.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. ouch. Sciatica is a son of a bitch. Above 10. A crescendo, then a falling away. I. Do. Not. Like. It.

If the SPRINT device works, I will send up hallelujahs in the name of its inventor, Kylie, and the doctor who installs it. If it doesn’t? I’m no worse off than before. Probably nerve ablation.

If there’s cancer in my hip? Don’t know. But Buphati will have things to recommend, I know.

 

Reading: I’m on a run of science fiction and magic. John Scalzi’s Starter Villain and Kaiju Preservation Society. Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files. The Gray Man and Daniel Silva set aside for the moment.

My serious reading of late has been for my two Kabbalah Experience classes. A New Story for Human Consciousness and the Radical Roots of Religion. The first, learning to retell, reimagine the story of Adam and Eve. And, in so doing, realizing we can reframe, reconstruct any story, including the one we tell ourselves about who we are in this world.

The second investigating moments when Judaism received a radical refit. Focused on Mordecai Kaplan, Abraham Joshua Heschel, Reb Zalman, and Art Green, but looking backward to Maimonides, the Bal Shem Tov, the destruction of the second Temple and the rise of Rabbinic Judaism.

I’m excited about these classes. I want to retell the story of Adam and Eve. Maybe my own story, too. Most of all I’m excited about considering what the next revolution might be in Judaism, imagining it, perhaps helping to build it.

 

Just a moment: Whoo, boy. We’ve crossed over and I didn’t really get it until I read this paragraph in an article titled: “Why Trump’s push for ‘gold-standard science’ has researchers alarmed.”*

Crossed over to what? An age of ideology, a time when political thought, doled out by political commissars, trumps (see what I did there?) decision making for any other reason.

This is a direct route to a Stalinesque, Mao Tse Tungesque form of governance. It is, as George Will observed in his strange opinion piece about Trump as a progressive, a form of Statism.

I admit I’m an Enlightenment, scientific method guy. But. I know that science does not occur in a political vacuum. Its funding, its direction, even its focus often has political influence. Look, for example, to the Agricultural and Mechanical universities dotted around the U.S. and delivering junk methods to farmers that kill the soil and enrich Big Ag.

Even so. I support science and the scientific endeavor to understand, to grasp the world around us as it is, not as we either imagine or wish it to be. No political commissar will know scientific facts better than scientists themselves.

I do agree with one facet of this critique of science, however. Many Americans have lost faith in science and we need, as a country, to help restore it. This is not the way.

 

 

 

” “And in a “Gold Standard Science” executive order last week, President Donald Trump outlined a new level of oversight over what counts as quality evidence and what does not, (emphasis mine) putting “a senior appointee designated by the agency head” in charge of overseeing “alleged violations.” Michael Kratsios, director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy, said in a briefing that the goal of the executive order is to “rebuild the American people’s confidence in the national science enterprise … the status quo of our research enterprise has brought diminishing returns, wasted resources and public distrust.”” Washington Post, June 1, 2025.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Humanities

Oh, It Lifts

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: The Morning Service. Our God, life of all the worlds who makes firm a person’s step. Jamie. Tara. Natalie. Caroline. Shadow. The Greenhouse. Nathan. Alan in Las Vegas. Rich in P.R. MVP next week. Morning darkness, then dawn. Then Great Sol in a blue Colorado Sky. Yet more Rain. Spine Ranch Fusion. Tandoori Chicken. Gulab Jamun. CuTO salad and Garlic naan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Clear Day

Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life.

One brief shining: Natalie, skilled and kind dog trainer, goes on youtube to find out how to do her own brakework, when she has engine trouble; she also mentioned cutting a notch in my dying tree so it could fall over on its own, and knows the work of Minnesotan David Mech on wolves.

 

Dog journal: If you live in a bookish world, surrounded by bookish people, it’s easy to forget or ignore other intelligences. Like BJ, Pamela, and Sarah who used string instruments to reveal theirs. Or. Natalie’s treat bag, her experience with many dogs. Or Nathan’s carpentry and his aesthetic sense. Or Caroline’s empathy.

I’m so grateful to have found others with intelligences that complement my journey, make it richer, easier, more full. Transactional relationships at first, yes, all. During and after, at least more than casual acquaintances. Shared worlds. Recognition of the other’s value.

Shadow and I continue to hug. She zooms and smiles outside, a happy young puppy. Natalie has changed our life together from one of cautious wariness to companionship. Natalie also got a leash on her and walked with her yesterday.

The next unsolved problem? Thresholds. So she’ll come inside and let me close the door. Preferable when it’s cold.

 

Cancer: Had my first therapy session with Caroline Merz, a Princeton and Washington University (her Ph.D.) trained psychologist. She specializes in geriatrics and cancer.

This was our first session and it was a listening session for her as she heard my “unique life story and how aging and illness have affected me.”

It surprised me, but I felt teary almost the whole way through. At a couple of points I did cry and later I cried (after the session was over) about Rigel, now long dead. Chewy, the pet food folks, sent me a rock with a rainbow and Rigel’s name on it.

I’m alone but not lonely. Yes, true. I’m neither afraid of cancer or death. True. However, since Kate’s death and in spite of my friends and family, I carry the psychic burden of responding to loss and pain and disease mostly alone. I can and do carry it.

There is, however, a price. Hard to describe. A sort of Atlas thing where it rests on my shoulders, bearing down, not pushing me to the ground, not making me depressed, but always there, a weighty presence.

The tears are about this, I know. A response to even the momentary sharing of the burden. Oh, it lifts. The relief wells up and expresses itself through release.

Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari

Dogs, Greenhouse, Politics

Companions and Co-Workers

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Shadow. Hugging, wiggling, kissing. Rain. The possibility of a dry June followed by July, August, September with the monsoons. Plastic pavers with gravel. The foundation for the greenhouse. Nathan. Tara. Open-sided MRI. P.T. exercises with mild zerizut. Natalie. Another harness. Ruth in Seoul. Ruth ensouled. Leaflets on the Aspen. Anthers proud, ready for Wind born pollination on the Lodgepoles. The Willows along Maxwell Creek changed from yellow to chartreuse. Maxwell Creek flashing, running with the Water from recent Rain. The Mountains in Spring.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Wildflowers beside Black Mountain Drive, Brook Forest Drive

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm for p.t. and resistance

Another example

One brief shining: Nathan has had a trucking company, Heeler Trucking, named after his red Heeler’s breed, been a handyman, and now owns Colorado Coop and Garden, a bespoke construction company for the Mountain dweller wanting to raise Chickens or grow a few Vegetables.

 

Dog Journal: Natalie, my current dog trainer, started out working with her Dad, with Horses. Horses, however, bite, kick, and run at you. Plus, as Natalie said the other day, as prey Animals, they run first, second, and third. And as herd Animals their safety is in fight or flight, not cunning.

Dogs are different. As predators, thinking and cunning have to be part of the equipment. Hence, they’re much smarter than Horses. Since nobody calls in a trainer for a pliable Dog or Horse, the much more pleasant work is with Dogs.

Right at the top of the Doggy intelligence ladder are herding Dogs who must anticipate and shape the behavior of herd Animals, especially sheep and cattle. In a different vein are the sight hounds, Irish Wolfhounds, Whippets, Greyhounds, Borzoi. They hunt prey on their own. Their intelligence requires little about their interactions with humans. I imagine the same thing is true of Terriers.

Dogs and humans. Friends and companions since friendly Wolves partnered with hunter/gatherers for warmth, love, and to share the hunt for food. We now belong together though our mutual understanding has weakened, at least on the part of humans, as work and sustenance has diminished as an important part of the bond.

Pets are not coworkers. They’re, well, pets. As a result, humans, most humans, have lost their keen sensitivity to the needs, moods, and communication ways of Dogs. Yet Dogs have not lost their heightened awareness of human behavior since they are dependent now on them for food, Water, and shelter. A gap has opened up between humans and their companion animals. We need folks like Natalie who go back into the old days of human/dog relationships and recover modes of communications lost in the transition.

 

Just a moment: George Will, a bright crisp writer, often funny, even though I rarely agree with him, has an extraordinary column in yesterday’s Washington Post: The Trump administration is pure progressivism in action. In it he gives his 9 core principles of progressivism and outlines why he believes the Trump Administration is the ne plus ultra of all progressive presidencies. Worth a read.

AI, Dogs, Fourth Phase, Garden, GeekWorld, Greenhouse, Health, Humanities, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain

Live Until You Die

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: My son. Shadow. Natalie. Mary. Guru. Seoah. Ruth. US Air Force. US Navy. US Army. US Marines. Warriors. Korea. Ruth in Seoul. Jamie and the radical roots of religion. My back. Lawn furniture. Nathan. The Greenhouse build. Living, not dying. Nothing hard is easy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Plants

Week Kavannah: Zerizut for p.t. and resistance

One brief shining: Learning from Natalie as she explains reading a dog’s mind and feelings, head to the left or right, processing, as is walking away, not stubborn, figuring things out, wait, panting as a sign of worry, consent to hug or pet when Shadow comes up to me and stays or leaps up on my legs while I’m sitting down, two species, 15,000 years of partnership, much better understood by the one with the smaller brain.

 

A lot going on here on Shadow Mountain. A series of dog training moments, an hour or so, with Natalie. Nathan getting my greenhouse foundation ready, treating the Wood at his place for Shou Sugi Ban, delivering things he’ll need for his work. Two Kabbalah Experience classes nearing their end. Two hip MRI tomorrow. Keeping track of my son’s promotion and his visitors. Ruth in Korea. Receiving the money for the Jang family visit in August. Spring. Rains and Thunder.

Live until I die remains my mantra. Moving into tomorrow not as one less day, but as a time to anticipate, to savor, to enjoy. Natalie made an offhand comment, for example, about my needing outdoor furniture to enjoy my backyard. Oh? Well, duh. Looking through online catalogues. Probably go look in person somewhere.

This is, you see, my life. Not the anteroom for my death. No matter what’s going on. Not even if I ever need to move into hospice. Learning. Loving. Growing spiritually. Right. Up. To. The. End.

 

Dog journal: Natalie has skills. She’s deeply read and connected with other trainers in online chatgroups. She’s dedicated to positive training. No shock collars. No harshness. Rather. Learning the heart and mind of dogs. Applying that in problem situations to recognize, then shape behaviors.

An example. Using feeding time to increase trust with Shadow. Feeding her from my hand makes her associate me with her food. “It’s all about the grub,” Natalie says. The walk, drop a treat behind, change direction game gives Shadow the choice to follow me. At some point she’ll just follow me. Working next on getting her to come inside voluntarily and like it. Walking on a leash.

I recognize and admire Ana’s house cleaning, Natalie’s training, and Nathan’s careful work.

A lot of dystopians imagine a world where A.I. puts humans out of work, yet makes enough cash available for a no work life. This will be awful, directionless, purposeless.

No. I don’t believe it. I believe the essence of the human experience lies in relating to each other, to animals near and far, in growing our own food at some level. In painting. Sculpture. Dog training. Construction. Cooking. Conversation. The joys of retirement.

 

Asia, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Greenhouse, Plants, Travel

More Pics from Ruth in Korea

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An example of Nathan’s work. 10×12 mine will be 8×8 with raised beds outside, a raised bed inside, and benches

Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: My very sweet girl, Shadow. Natalie. Alan, on his way to Las Vegas. Back pain less. Why? No idea. Hip and leg pain. Reading. Listening to Hard Fork. Money from the Jangs. My son, now commander. Cool night. Mary and Guru. Ruth. Seoah and her sister, her husband and their two kids. Raeone. Alan’s gift. Hate never made anything great on a hat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hugs and kisses from Shadow

Week Kavannah: Zerizut for p.t. and resistance work

One brief shining: As if making up for lost time, Shadow leaped onto my legs, put her head under my chin, snuggled in close, then gave me kisses, kisses, kisses our relationship transforming in days from skittish indifference to loving companionship.

 

Dog journal: No, all is not fixed. But the most important part is. We’re buddies. Companions. No longer caretaker and uncertain animal.

She still wants me to leave the backdoor open and when it’s 40 degrees outside, I want it closed. She still may run when I get up. But we both know that will fade.

Natalie got a harness on her yesterday. Perhaps today a link with a section of rope to simulate a leash.

 

Greenhouse diary: Nathan finished the greenhouse above last Friday. About a half a mile from me. He came by yesterday to level out the foundation area for the greenhouse.

I plan to order seeds and transplants today. Some Marigolds. And some other flowers. Lettuce. Chard. Kale. Tomato plants. Beets. Carrots. Onion sets. Maybe Sugar Snap Peas. Peppers?

An electrician will come when Nathan’s finished to run electricity to it. Still have to find a sign maker. I haven’t been this excited about something in a while. Miss gardening.

A lot of zerizut for Shadow and the greenhouse.

 

Jang travelogue: Received a wire transfer from Korea so I can start paying bills for the upcoming Korean invasion of the Rocky Mountains. August 1-7. The trip of a lifetime for Seoah’s brother, sister, her husband and kids, her parents.

In other Korea news. My son now commands a squadron. The ceremony has been completed with many family in attendance.

 

Ruth in Korea:

I don’t yet know where they got the outfits, but Seoah and Ruth are in hanbok, traditional Korean formal attire. I imagine my son is in a guard costume from the days of the Joseon dynasty.

Dogs, Paganism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Another riff on tactile spirituality

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Nathan has come with his shovel and tape measure. Digging out the foundation area for the greenhouse and its companion raised beds on either side. It’s been a late Spring for Mountain gardeners, so I may end up planting along with others. He says 5-7 days, weather permitting.

Love. Sex. Gardening. Cooking. Dancing. Hugs. To separate these from the realm of spirituality without a backward glance? Just silly. When Shadow jumps up to be hugged and petted, the universe and I display our intimate bond. The love between us made bodily.

Having a fresh salad of Lettuce, Radishes, Beets, and Onions harvested only moments ago. Transubstantiation. Spirit of Great Sol literally made flesh. Light into food. Need another definition of miracle? Spirituality expresses the felt connection between and among us. With each other. With the One.

The wild ecstasy of dancing in the Rain. Water. Water. Made clean and potable by Sister Cloud and Brother Wind. Dripping off hair and hats, clothes clinging to bodies. Maybe a bonfire nearby for drying off. How else to celebrate the gods at Beltane?

Cutting Tomatoes, peeling Garlic, chopping Onions and Cucumbers, Red Peppers, Yellow Peppers, Green Peppers. Vinegar. Olive Oil. Salt. Stir. Into a tureen. Ladling the gazpacho into bowls. Handing out day old baguettes for dipping. A cold beer or iced tea nearby. Conversation. Smiles. Laughter. Bonds over food.

Is there a heart, a lev (remember: heart-mind), that fails to recognize the prayer in feeding a friend. In embracing a Dog. In caring for the Land.

The Dog. Shadow. The Greenhouse. Artemis. The Home. Shadow Mountain. The Mountains: The Rockies. Our cathedral ceiling a blue sunny Colorado Sky.

Let me give you a clear example. Since mid-April Shadow has been skittish, running when I get up, her ears pinned back in an attitude of uncertainty. Can I trust him? All because I rushed trying to get her on a leash.

Natalie came, replacing Amy. She suggested two things: Feed her her meals by hand. Do this walk, stop, drop a treat behind game. I’ve done both of those things. Twice a day I feed her from my outstretched hand. At least twice a day, five minutes at a time, I walk in the backyard with her trailing. When I stop, she comes around me. I drop a treat behind and turn in a different direction. She chooses to follow me.

In only a few days she’s begun jumping up for a cuddle, staying close. Hey. That’s the bond of Earth and Sea, Moon and Sun, Mother and Child, Dog companion and Dog. Felt. Held. Touched. Tactile. Spiritual.

Keep this truth close to your heart. The universe, the One, knows the leaf of the Aspen, the bark of the Lodgepole, the fur of a Dog, the laugh of a child, the safety of love, the profound connection in holding hands, in making love all as One.

Chi winds us together, threading one neshama into the neshama of another, apparently different, yet all One. Celebrate. Dance to the music.

Asia, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Politics, US History, Weather +Climate, World History

Ruth at the DMZ

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Memorial Day gratefuls: Again, Shadow leaping into my arms as I sat on the edge of the bed. Rain. A soaking Rain. Needed. Big R. Dog treats. Ativan at Safeway. A pickup order. Gas at Stinkers. Pushing myself. P.T. exercises. Back pain. My Ancient brothers: Paul, Tom, Bill, Ode. Thyroid meds. Lifealert.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. for p.t. and resistance.

One brief shining: Went to Big R for the first time in years, past the bronze Elk front porch bench, into the store, past the weapons and ammo, past the huge fans for animal stalls, past the 50 pound bags of Chicken feed, toward the aisles of Dog beds, Dog food, Dog treats, nursing my gimpy left leg as I walked, found the bag of treats Natalie recommended, treats of Cattle spleen, lungs, trachea, realizing in that moment, again, the awful cruelty of eating red meat.

 

Had a crashing, booming, hailing afternoon while I slept with the window open, Rain spraying in, my electric blanket on against the 38 degree chill. Such a perfect feeling of comfort. Brought back memories of Memorial Days past when I would go out into the family car, turn on the radio, eat popcorn, and listen to the broadcast of the Indy 500.

I can imagine death as slipping over the edge of living while wrapped in similar comfort, a moment then of peace. Of lost physicality. Of drifting away into the next adventure. I neither wish it soon nor do I fear it.

 

Dog journal: Shadow jumped up onto my legs, into my arms. Again. Wriggling and happy. We hugged each other. The feeling sublime. I know that’s a slippery, maybe treacly, word, sublime, but when you combine love and eagerness what word would you use?

We’re not all the way there, Shadow and I, but we have had a few break through moments. Natalie comes today at 10.

 

Just a moment: Trump Tarrific wants retailers to “eat” the tariffs. Guess we could call that a value negated tax or VNT. The mirror of VAT.

Not sure you’d feel Great quite yet if your profit margins dipped in order to prop up red tie guy’s simulacrum of economic policy. But, hey, we’ve all got to take one for the team now and then. Eh?

 

Ruth at the DMZ

 

 

 

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Garden, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Health, Paganism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Reimaging revelation, Writing

Shou Sugi Ban Treated Wood for Artemis Greenhouse

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II (3% crescent)

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow jumping onto my legs this morning for a hug. So sweet. Fun with old socks. Our new, changing relationship. Back pain. Zerizut for p.t. and resistance work. Tara. Alan. Rich. Luke. Mussar. Shabbat. Morning prayers. Enveloped by Rain and Fog. Mom and Dad, both veterans. My son, a future veteran. All those who defend us with their lives.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. for p.t. and resistance.

One brief shining: As Great Sol began to disappear behind Black Mountain yesterday, a rainy Fog rolled in and gave my backyard a ghostly appearance, Lodgepoles coming in and out of sight, Shadow rushing inside all wet from running through a Cloud.

 

On Ancientrails: You may notice some extra posts here and there. I’ll signal them with something in the future, probably an image. You will find my regular as usual posts with the format of long standing.

These new posts are me trying to write out, work out my sense of where I am in my thought process about certain matters like spirituality, theology, politics. I’ve had this urge to write down things I’ve thought about for a long time. They’re incomplete sentences, non-systematic because I’ve admitted to myself that I’m not a system builder or even an always logical thinker. There is this strain of mysticism, a poetry of the inner world that means more to me than a syllogism. Though I love syllogisms, too.

You will know these entries by their lack of gratefuls, sparks, kavannah, one brief shining. Please feel free to ignore them. They’re me scratching my name in the wet Sand. I want a record of those ideas before the King Tide rolls in.

 

Dog journal: Shadow bounded into my arms this morning before I got out of bed, her paws on my outstretched legs. As if overnight, she’d forgotten to be shy, to be scared. I hugged her and she wriggled happy, licking my face. Yes, I said to her, this is what I want. What I need. An oh so special moment.

 

Back pain/cancer: Tara will take me to my open-sided MRI. I’ll have taken an Ativan for my claustrophobia so I’ll be talkative with little executive function for a filter. Glad I trust her.

Here’s an oddity with this MRI. Both my oncologist and my pain doc want images of my hips. Both have sent orders. I hope that doesn’t screw things up.

Oncologist checking for metastatic growth in my hips. Pain doc getting information for a possible insertion of a SPRINT device later. Two diagnoses for the price of one! BOGO.

 

Just a moment: We will move into the Artemis Greenhouse Moon tomorrow. Nathan comes tomorrow to begin building. He thinks it will take about a week. I’m excited. I want/need to grow things again.

It will be done in shou sogi ban treated wood. This is an ancient Japanese wood treatment that involves charring the surface of a board, then sealing it. Nathan has taught himself how to do this.

Since I’m starting a little late in the gardening year, I’ll have to be careful with what I plant, but I’ll get crops this year. Plus there will be flowers.

 

 

 

 

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics

Suffering. Shadow. Shame.

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Thursday gratefuls: Natalie. Diane. Ruth. Seoah. My son. Korea. Morning darkness. Radical Roots of Religion. Art Green. The One. Ritual. Prayer. The Morning Service. Shadow, shredder of Kleenex. Outside work with her. My back yard. The Bearberry. The Clump Grass. That leaning Lodgepole. The Lilacs in Kate’s garden. Nathan coming today to look at the foundation he wants to make for the greenhouse. For Halle and all the traveling physical therapists.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greenhouse

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. For working out, for physical therapy.

One brief shining: Worked for two hours yesterday with Natalie and Shadow and Cooper, her 6 month old English Cream Lab, wandering the yard, dropping treats behind me, letting Shadow come in front of me, then turning and walking away, waiting for her to follow, Cooper bounding in his slow sure way next to Natalie, more, as she said, a people dog than a dog dog.

 

Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert, in the NYT: “My life expectancy is maybe this summer,” he said. “I don’t have good days,” he said. “Every day is a nightmare. And evening is even worse.” NYT

This in an article revealing he had, at 67, an aggressive form of prostate cancer. Oh, boy. His words scared me, especially as I hobble around in the early morning before my back and hip begin to loosen up.

Then, I go back to my own journey, now in its eleventh year. Not aggressive. Slow growing. Still hormone resistant. Could be worse, a lot worse.

My heart sinks for Adams and for Biden. Fellow travelers on this ancientrail nobody wants to follow. Cancer, as I told Kathy, a stage 4 breast cancer survivor, is a humbug.

In our small mussar group we have multiple myeloma, breast cancer, a blood cancer, prostate cancer. Leslie, a former member died of liver cancer and Judy, my friend from MVP, of ovarian cancer.

No wise words here. Just an observation that suffering and angst pervade the human story, are not rare. Common. Which could serve as a reminder to be kind.

 

Dog journal: The two hour session with Natalie wore us both out. Shadow went to bed around 5, two hours early. I had to remind her to go outside before bedtime. We walked a lot. My own fatigue caused me to message Natalie and say no more two hour sessions.

And yet. I can feel a change. As we let up on the obedience and began to work on building trust. Responding to subtle clues I had missed. Waiting for Shadow’s consent before touching her. Watching if her weight is on her hind legs or her front legs. Is she leaning in or preparing to exit?

 

Just a moment: Seems like our golden shower boy wants to relive his gory days on The Apprentice by saying the political equivalent of, “You’re fired!” to heads of state. First, Zelensky in a shameful moment in U.S. history. Yes, pretty bad. Then exploiting the situation to get rare minerals.

Now, in a beyond shameful clash with the President of South Africa, declaring white Afrikaners, the architects of apartheid, subject to genocide. This is not even a dog whistle to the white supremacists in his base. It’s a y’all come on, we got this now.

 

Dogs, Health, Politics, US History

Halle and Shadow

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Natalie. Halle. Physical therapy. Back and leg pain. Natalie’s husband. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Art Green. Cool night. Good sleeping. New exercises. Our spinning Planet. Great Sol revealed again. From the east. His light on the Lodgepoles. Grass green. Aspen Catkins yellow against blue Sky. Lodgepole Anthers. Fawns and Calves and Kits and Cubs. Spring in the Rockies.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. For working out, doing p.t.

One brief shining: Sitting down on the mobile table, talking with Halle, a bit later face down with her massaging my lower back, after that dropping my knees to the side, controlled, does it hurt, oh yes, but not too bad. See you next week.

 

Back pain: Halle from Madisonville, Kentucky. What brought you to Colorado, Halle? Oh, didn’t I tell you last time? I’m a traveling physical therapist, like a traveling nurse.

She goes for a year or so, or longer, then picks up and moves. Last year she was in Albuquerque.

What a great way to see the country, new places. She imagines she’ll end up back in Kentucky, but, she says, she could do this her whole life if she wanted.

Halle has a great table side manner. Encouraging. Thoughtful. Challenging. I like her.

 

Dog journal: Natalie of Friends for Life. Came by to assess Shadow for her two week training program. Older than Amy, maybe 50. Lavender tinted hair. Amethyst earrings. Purple t-shirt. Deep dog knowledge, especially of fearful dogs.

Her husband, a retired long haul truck driver, had a stroke last year. Is in a long recovery. We talked about caregiving and care giver fatigue.

We also talked about having a buffer dog for Shadow, a dog who could take some of my attention off her, ease the pressure on both of us. A good idea. Not sure I’m up for two dogs though.

We also talked about Shadow as a fearful, shy dog. How to tell if she’s ready for interaction.

Natalie suggested a game of follow me. I put a treat down. When Shadow comes to get it, I turn and walk away. She follows, comes around the front. I drop a treat in back, then turn and walk away. Repeat. Repeat. This leaves her in control.

Also, I’m to feed Shadow by hand, about half of her meal. All about building trust. Natalie’s not big on obedience training. As I am not. What we both want is a relationship of trust and affection with our dogs. That’s how Kate and I always lived with our dogs.

The big difference with Shadow is her fearfulness, her trauma. And, her age. Natalie will teach us how to gently enter each other’s lives. I’m confident with Natalie’s help we can get to a mature relationship in time. A relief.

Natalie’s coming back today. A blitz for a couple of weeks, then weekly sessions.

 

Just a moment: “In a White House meeting, the U.S. president is expected to point to alleged discrimination against white South Africans, a week after welcoming a group of them as refugees.” NYT article, 5/21/25

Oh. My. God.