Lughnasa Labor Day Moon
Category Archives: Dogs
On the Path
Lughnasa Labor Day Moon
Two hours in the dentist’s chair yesterday. Cleaning, followed by a crown prep and filling two cavities. When Kate came back from the dentist on Wednesday talking about the sticky fluoride treatment she’d received, it made me realize we’ve had no fluoride in our water for over 20 years. Living with our own well.
Took Gabe and Ruth to the Upper Maxwell Falls trail yesterday afternoon. We didn’t make it to the falls, instead wandering off on an alternate trail that climbed through jumbles of boulders and large, rocky cliffs. The regular trail is very popular in spite of its out of the way location. Over the summer there have been no fewer than six cars and often twenty parked at the trailhead.
We examined plants. Ruth found a snake (she wants one for a pet.), but it slithered away 
beneath the rocks. We climbed on the rocks and looked out. Nature provides something new, something noteworthy every foot or so. It was a slow hike. Here were lichen, familiar forms from Minnesota. There was a very late blooming Indian Paint Brush, its fiery bloom resting on the ground. The trees, some of them, were huge, trunks so big that Gabe, Ruth and I couldn’t get our arms around them holding hands.
Maxwell Creek exerted the magnetic attraction that water has for humans. We went down twice to be closer to it, the first time we crossed over to the alternative trail that we followed. The second time we crossed back to the Falls trail. Ruth talked about some camp counselors who followed a mountain stream to its source, an artesian spring, drinking from it, since “water is never fresher.”
Being in the Arapaho National Forest has its own version of mindfulness, one in which attention leaves the world of the day-to-day and focuses on an interesting rock, a blooming flower, the sound of water rushing over rocks, the view from a boulder. The eye scans for what is new or unfamiliar, being delighted constantly by a patch of cowslip, a bit of lichen on a lodgepole pine, a small squirrel playing peek-a-book around a thin aspen trunk.
Ruth and I are going back this morning, taking Kepler along in his harness.
August So Far
Lughnasa Recovery Moon
Gold Dust
Summer Healing Moon
Gold dust has rained down on us since early June. It’s not residue from the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush, but pollen from the many pines. So fine that it passes through screens, it coats furniture, floors, computer screens, door sills and window sills. Yesterday evening we had a sudden, violent downpour of rain. The rain collected the gold dust, then spread it on our driveway in Fibonacci inspired whorls. Daughter-in-law Jen has nostalgia for the time of the pine pollen from growing up in North Carolina.
About the same time we moved into what the weather folks identify as a more typical pattern, warming and drier. Our house, which has no air conditioning, stays cool in the mornings, evenings and nights, but afternoon can be a challenge. That fact has moved purchasing ceiling fans up on our priority list. Even before, Kate says, the new cooktop, oven refrigerator, and dishwasher. So, pretty important.
Finding the self difficult to nourish right now. Instead of the usual avenues I wrote about yesterday I read, watched a movie, did small chores. Still in distraction mode rather than introspection. It will pass.
Vega, Gertie and Kep all come up to the loft to keep me company. They come upstairs; they go downstairs. Busy.
Morning
Beltane Closing Moon
This morning I got up as usual at about 5:30, turned on the hall light and the downstairs light. Kep had thrown up something, looked like light fur. I wiped it up with a towel after an oh no. It came up easily, not wet. That was good. I let him outside through the downstairs door.
On the couch I picked up my phone, swiped to open it, swiped again to move to the second page where my health app resides, found the oximeter, pressed it and then pressed measure. After 30 seconds or so, a number popped up. 93. My usual early morning reading. Still below normal or average, but not in the OMG zone. A cascade of thoughts about smoking, decisions long ago effecting today, could I have some pulmonary disease? Then, just as quickly. Oh, stop. No good comes of this. Let it be until we get more data.
Upstairs to pour a cup of coffee, let it sit while I head to the garage to let out Vega, Rigel and Gertie. When I snick open the crate, I call each dog’s name and run my hand over their body as they bound out: Vega, Rigel, Gertie. Each dog momentarily presses their body into my hand. We acknowledge each other and they’re out the garage door. Back among the ponderosa’s they sniff, run, urinate. A soft blue sky with hazy clouds is over them now, not the darkness of night that greeted us all just a month ago at the same time.
This is my usual morning. It also involves walking to the road to pick up the paper, feeding the dogs, letting them out again and waiting until they return. After they’re all back inside, I go up to the loft to read my e-mail, write a post here and exercise.
Which I’m off to do right now.
Under the Closing Moon (I Hope), Just Me and My Gal
Beltane Closing Moon
Spoke with Kate and our money manager, RJ Devick, yesterday. Made plans for the house proceeds that we will not receive today. (see below) I know real estate deals aren’t over until the money exchanges hands. I know it. But, I let myself believe this week. Shattered faith. Well, no. But disappointed? Yes.
Kate’s headed for a quilt shop in Hot Springs, South Dakota, also site of the adolescent mammoth suicide hole. Hot Springs imbedded itself in my memory on one early visit. I ate lunch at a local cafe and when I got the check, it had a 10% discount on it. When I asked what the 10% was, the clerk, in her teens, said happily, “Oh. That’s the senior discount.”
On Kate’s trip. Got a strange call from Enterprise, the car rental folks yesterday. Mr. Olson? Sort of. Huh, oh, well anyway. We’d like to go over the final bill for Kate Olson. What? Yes she checked in today. No, I don’t think so, since she’s still in Minnesota. What? A lot of confusion, silent but pregnant. After all, he had the numbers right in front of him. Then. I see, do you have a number for her? I did.
Meanwhile I had a day of rest, no medical tests, no interactions with others except the four dogs. Priceless. In much better spirits this morning. Better rested, unprodded and quiet.
There was that matter of the Zatarains though. Kate bought me some crawfish meat and I planned to stir into a Zatarain’s jambalaya mix for supper. I set the Zatarain’s box out on the counter in preparation. Later in the day I looked where it had been. Only empty space. Some dog ate it. Cardboard and dry contents altogether, leaving only the aluminum foil liner that held the rice and seasoning. So, I went to Brookforest Inn and got a pizza.
He’s An Akita
Beltane Beltane Moon
Yesterday was dog taxi day. Vega to vet. Vega back from vet. Kepler to the dog groomer for furmination. Kepler back from the groomer. In between I threw in changing the tires on the Rav4. Feels much better to have those soft snow tires off the truck. No longer flensing rubber on the consistently dry pavement.
Vega has been subdued, but she did start eating this morning. That’s a good sign. Kepler looks sleak. The groomer said he had “an amazing amount of fur.” The reason his head was wet when I picked him up? “He didn’t want his head dried. And I decided to honor that.” Wise choice. When I said he was stubborn, she said, “He’s an Akita.”
The drive to Pine Junction, location of Paws and Claws, is spectacular. Once just beyond Conifer on 285 a long, high range of snowcapped peaks becomes visible. Riding through the mountains, seeing more mountains ahead. Wonderful treat for an ordinary trip to a groomers. The road off 285 that takes me close to Paws and Claws is Mt. Evans Drive, the highest paved road in North America. Haven’t driven the rest of it. Not opened yet. Closed all winter plus some.
We’re getting so close on the Andover sale. Just a few items from the inspection list, nothing major. Then, Kate will drive to Minnesota for the closing. She’ll see her friends and have that, oh, I’m here as a no longer resident experience.
A Busy Day
Beltane Beltane Moon
Kate’s come down with some kind of bug. She went to the Colorado Potter’s show on Friday, the National Quilt Festival on Saturday and had the grandkids on Sunday. That’s a lot. Exhaustion plus many strangers can = not feel good.
Vega’s going into the vet today. She’s been listless since the attack yesterday and I discovered several more bites last night. She becomes very protective of her body when she’s hurt and didn’t allow examination until then. Kep, the attacker, goes to Paws and Claws for furmination today. He’s shedding with the seasonal change. A new issue for us since we’ve had dogs that don’t really blow their coats.
The Michelins go onto today at 2:00 pm. That means the Blizzaks will come home to stand ready for the next snow season. Which might be this weekend. Forecasts have us getting 5-8″ of snow on Friday or Saturday. How bout that?
Finally, tonight at 6:00 pm, if it’s not raining hard, I’ll take my Colorado Flora and its many taxonomic keys to Green Mountain in Lakewood. This will be practice for the Friday and Saturday classes at Mt. Falcon in Morrison and Sterling respectively.
Tires, Wood, Art and Dog Bites
Beltane Beltane Moon
Into Denver today to pick up four Michelin Latitude Tours. Saved $300 over my mechanic’s quote for the same tire. Tire Rack.com you rock!
On the way back I stopped at Paxton Lumber Company just off Colorado Avenue near I-
70. Actor Bill Paxton is a member of this family. Jon recommended it. They have wood for wood workers. I’m looking for wood to make a new top for some Ikea cabinets I have.
Woods they had, often 10-12 foot boards, many 3 inches thick: chestnut, yellowheart, padauk, wenge, pecan hickory, mahogany, teak, brown ash, walnut, alder, white ash, cherry, red oak, white oak, european beech, aromatic cedar (smelled so good) plus other, softer woods like pines, basswood, poplar. What a great place. Finishing the book shelves, getting a new top for my cabinets will mean I can organize and then use all my resources. Excited about that.
When I got back into the mountains, I made a stop in Indian Hills, a small town just off Hwy. 285. The Mirada Art Gallery there has a good reputation, the best in the Denver metro in spite of being in a relatively out of the way spot. It had a show of contemporary artists focused on the West that will close Friday.
The art, most of it, did not attract my eye. Too loose, too colorful, not enough depth. Expensive art to match your couch. However, sculpture Jennifer Stratman and painter Alvin Gill-Tapia would look good in any museum or home.
These were places I’d wanted to see for some time, but the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. Today, it did.
While I was gone, the dogs tripped over into predator behavior. They are neither pliable, nor sensible in that state. Gertie has a wound just below her left eye. She looks like a prize fighter. Vega, who had attacked both Gertie and Kepler earlier in the morning, got bitten by Kepler. The e-collar he’s in didn’t bother him. Kate said he clamped on and wouldn’t let go. It’s not a terrible wound, but it’s a puncture wound through the dermis, so she’s back on antibiotics.
When they’re in a predatory frenzy, fights and biting occur at the door. Doorways are places where doggy status becomes critical, top dogs through first, omegas go last. In the frantic scrums like the one this morning everybody tries to get through the door at once. Havoc can, and did this morning, ensue.
Where’s the E-Collar?
Spring Beltane Moon
Shaggy dog story. We took Vega and Kepler to the vet on Monday. Kepler needed an e-collar to prevent him from worrying his tail. We brought the e-collar home, intending to put it on him in the evening.
When we went to get the collar, it was gone. We looked all over the house. No collar. OK, that’s weird. Where could it be?
As we eventually concluded, one of the dogs, probably Vega, picked it up, chewed on it and left outside in the backyard. Vega never liked the e-collar. When she had one, she refused to acknowledge on it, barreling through doors, bending the plastic so she could go where she wanted.
This was a pre-emptive strike against the cone of shame.