backyard – Page 13

Love Comes Tumbling

Ellie continues to confound with her dietary adventures, somehow opening a tupperware tub of freshly baked chocolate raisin cookies and devouring every last crumb, maintaining her perfect attendance in the clean plate club. But dear Ellie, not freshly baked cookies! Not freshly baked! If you must eat cookies, stick to the store-bought kind!

A day or two later she broke open a bag of cat treats and finished those off, followed later by the supplements she takes for joint health. If only the cats were so eager to take their medicine!

While walking her at night earlier in the week, she had so much energy I ran with her a bit. We ran past the houses in one section of the neighborhood where the tall trees block the streetlights, where the roots of the tall trees broke up the sidewalk, where I tripped on the broken sidewalk and faceplanted into the concrete.

I landed hard but was able to get my hands out in front of me, the ground knocking out the doggie treat I was holding. I wasn’t surprised that Ellie sniffed out the treat in the darkness and gobbled it down before checking to see if I was OK. My palms took the brunt of the damage and got skinned up pretty badly, as well as the top of my right hand. My left knee and right elbow were badly bruised but not bleeding.

After the first night the swelling went down and it was clear there was no permanent damage. The wounds are healing rapidly and the pain subdued with ibuprofen. It was a lovely weekend but I didn’t do any yardwork apart from mowing as I can’t put any hard pressure on my palms yet, but that left extra time to play catch with the tennis ball in the backyard with Ellie, a fair trade.

This picture of Ellie is from earlier in the year, you can see a bit of white paint on her neck. All of the paint spots are gone now, apart from a bit on her tail, the fur there must shed more slowly.

The Dog & The Tennis Ball

You don’t need to travel to the Galapagos to see evolution in action. Consider that when Lewis & Clark first crossed the Rockies into the West, they looked across verdant fields and saw dogs chasing tennis balls, with some highly evolved breeds specializing in catching the hapless balls on the bounce.

While at the time dogs seemed to have the upper hand, in the intervening years evolution seems to have lobbed the advantage back into the ball’s court. The balls have increasingly learned to anticipate being caught from above and have developed ever more complex bounces to evade their slobbering foes.

But recently, dogs seem to be regaining mastery over their prey of old. While the ball nervously scans the skies, the dog flattens itself against the ground and sneaks up from the side, catching the ball unawares.

Usually catching the ball unawares. Sometimes the ball still manages to escape. That’s nature for you.

Dark Chocolate

Ellie had a vet appointment this morning to get a booster shot. She got a good health report all around (apart from needing to lose a little weight, which we are working on). But late this afternoon I got a call from my wife saying she was heading back to the vet.

During the day, Ellie had somehow gotten a hold of some of my wife’s chocolate calcium chews. This is not the way to weight loss Ellie! Although at least we won’t have to worry about her suffering from osteoporosis. The vet didn’t think any harm was done but had us watch for vomiting and unusual stools just to be safe — any blood and it was off to the emergency vet. Thankfully she’s been fine, a little hyper but she got a lot of exercise this weekend and calmed down nicely by nightfall.

Ellie’s a black lab, at least we thought she was, but I’m thinking now she may be a chocolate lab. Dark chocolate.

Ellie & Smelly

The title for today’s post comes from little Sam, who is skating on thin ice I assure you.

He asked me today if I knew which part of Ellie I most smelled like. I said no but to consider his answer carefully and reminded him who plays countless hours of String with him. He deliberated far longer than I thought necessary, eyes darting between me and Ellie, before finally answering “Why the sweetest part of course!”

Say Hello to Ellie

“Let it be said that I am right rather than consistent.” Supreme Court Justice John Marshall Harlan explaining his transformation from a vigorous defender of slavery to the lone supporter on the Court for the rights of former slaves

We reduced the candidates of names for Unnamed Dog (aka the dog formerly known as Sidka) from sixteen to two, Darcy and Zira, staying consistent with our scheme of choosing names from our favorite books. Today we settled on her name: Ellie.

When I first came up with a list of possible names for the dog, all sixteen names were from our favorite books or shows save two, Ellie and Libby, which made the cut simply because I liked them. Libby seemed like a good name for a lab but I ruled it out myself the very next day when on the train I couldn’t get the “Libby Libby Libby on the label label label” song out of my head and realized the horror the next seven years could bring.

My wife further whittled the list to a half dozen but even after a week none of the literary names felt right and we realized we were trying to force the wrong name onto our sweet-hearted girl. She feels like an Ellie, not a Darcy or Zira, so we’re breaking with tradition. We could cheat and say that she’s named for Elinor from Sense & Sensibility or Elessar, one of the 187 names for Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings, but she’s not.

She’s Ellie because she’s Ellie.

Action Pose!

A week ago we went to the Humane Society and brought Sidka home. She has readily adapted to our household and all its denizens, she seems quite happy and healthy and loving and good-natured and smart and patient and playful and we keep waiting for the other shoe to drop but so far she’s just been a real sweetheart.

We’ve whittled our list of names down to two likely candidates, Darcy and Zira, which keep with our tradition of choosing names from literature. I read on the internet (so it must be true!) that Darcy comes from the Gaelic word for dark which goes well with her black fur, and of course Darcy is a character or two from a mutual favorite of ours, Pride & Prejudice. Zira comes from the chimp in Planet of the Apes (book and movie) that discovered our man hero could talk. Our dog can’t talk but she is an excellent typist.

Emma has suggested another name — since she has black fur like her, she wants to call her Emma II. I pointed out that since the dog was born long before her that really the dog should be Emma I and she should be Emma II, but she thinks it ought to go by the order of the arrival into our home. My wife agrees with her but I think it’s just the womenfolk sticking together, it may have been a mistake to adopt another girl as now Sam and I are outnumbered 4 to 2. They’ve got veto power! My wife was quick to point out that they’ve always had it.

It was sunny if cold and windy today, so after a much-needed haircut I walked home and took Sidka into the backyard for an hour’s worth of fetch. What a wonder it is to have a pet actually bring her toys back when you throw them! Playing with the tennis ball seems to be her favorite game followed by the rope toy. We then came inside for even more playing and then it was time for more cat bonding time.

All three cats were anxious to get down to the basement today, every time I’d go up I’d have to fend them off as I opened the door, no besieged city has ever been so well-defended. When it was time I opened the door and all three came down. Sidka was being good so as I test I took off her leash and let her go. She didn’t chase anyone, at first the cats kept their distance so Sidka and I played some more as they watched and got a feel for her movements.

Everybody got a nose touch in today with Scout again setting the record for the longest nose touch, she holds both first and second place by a wide margin. Emma wins the award for most time spent near Sidka, she’s rather fascinated with her, while Sam wins the award for actually falling asleep with her just a few feet away. Also for eating the closest to her, as if we had any doubt who would win that contest.

Sidka is definitely interested in the cats but has clearly been around cats before as she doesn’t move and scare them when they come in for their nose touches, and when she once got too close for comfort for Sam he swatted her on the nose and she immediately backed off and came over by me. The cats aren’t comfortable with her yet but today was excellent progress.

Important Medical Update

I’ve been remiss in providing daily updates on the toe that I injured when I accidentally kicked little Sam (it was an accident Sammy, an accident!).

The top of the toe progressed from black to deep purple to maroon to red and is now mostly back to its normal color. There’s still a little redness and tenderness to pressure from the top but it’s healed rather nicely. This little incident didn’t affect my ability to walk (or, unfortunately, to shovel snow). This picture of Sam is from warmer days this summer, he’s standing in front of the patch of daisies that he loves to play in. He’s not been too impressed by the snow, and by not too impressed I mean not at all.

Little Mr. Ironsides

This morning didn’t get started off on the right foot. I didn’t see Sam underfoot and accidentally kicked him as I was getting ready for work. I felt a sharp pain in my left foot and dropped to the floor, then hobbled up to find him to check him for injuries. He seemed fine but I pulled him close and gave him a thorough exam, he wasn’t too keen on being poked and prodded so I petted him enough to keep him happy. He didn’t show any signs of tenderness and seemed none the worse for wear, making one mad dash up the Christmas tree and then curling up with Scout on the window seat to watch the comings and goings on the street.

I decided to stay at home an extra hour just to make sure he didn’t have any unusual behavior due to an internal injury, with the final test being the filling of his food bowl. He came ripping down the stairs and began eating before I had even finished filling the bowls, leaving no doubts as to his mobility or his appetite. I didn’t fare quite so well, after my foot continued to hurt into the afternoon I took off my shoes for a closer look. One toe was blackened on the top although by the end of the day it has lightened a bit to a deep purple. I still don’t know exactly what happened, either my toe got bent back at just the right (and wrong) angle or my little cat has ironsides.

Or a mithril coat hidden under his fur. Perhaps we named him after the wrong hobbit.

Weasels

As I mentioned in my previous post, this year I’ve seen three long-tailed weasels (Mustela frenata) after never having seen them before. However they weren’t my first introduction to the weasel family itself, the mustelids. I had a similar experience last year with mink (Mustela vison), I saw three after never having seen them before — unfortunately I haven’t seen them since, I hope I have better luck with the weasels.

And of course I once had daily contact with the gray-tailed weasel (Mustela templeton), the sort of weasel who would act like he wanted to play, then when you got up to follow him, double back and steal your chair. And still look up at you with the purest innocence. That is a weasel.

While the gray-tailed weasel has sadly gone extinct, scientists are studying a mammal that some believe is a new species, the orange-tailed weasel (Mustela sam). The scientific community wants to wait for more data before final classification as a weasel, but two young scientists note that he will push you aside and steal your food, and with manners like that there’s really no reason to wait.

However, another scientist argues that the gray-tailed and orange-tailed weasels are likely one species, the little weasel (Mustela minimus). Or, since the orange creature seems to eat anything that even remotely resembles food if you leave it unguarded for a few seconds, that perhaps it is not a weasel at all but an unusually cute species of goat (Oreamnos terribulus).

Some Lessons You Have to Learn the Hard Way

I’ve warned Emma to stay out of the coneflower. Oh how I’ve warned her! Time and again I told of how they’d lure her in, let her drink in their beauty, then attack when she let her guard down. But did she listen to me? No she didn’t. Some lessons you have to learn the hard way.