Forgiveness

I just watched an excellent piece on the CBS morning news show. It was an interview with Carlos Santana. He was a Kennedy Center Honoree, and they are promoting the upcoming Sunday night special. Being a Santana fan, long before the Supernatural craze, I was hooked immediately. I liked how he said that he didn't really enjoy being famous because he didn't think human adulation was normal. 

Interestingly, he talked about being molested as a child and how he came to terms with that. He said of the forgiveness, "I release you now, and I send you back to the light. I'm not gonna condemn you, or me, to hell, because if I send you to hell, I'm going to go with you."

These days, Carlos Santana is 66. He says, "I used to say, the best is still ahead... The best is now."

I Miss Michael Jackson

I came home from work today and my television set was tuned to palladia. This Is It was playing and I easily got hooked. I looked at it differently this time. I was evaluating Michael's exhaustion level. Was I projecting? Likely so. He looked tired, I thought. He l looked old too.

I grew up along side Michael Jackson. We were almost the same age. I can remember listening to his 45s on the phonograph in my bedroom. I remember having to put the middle piece on the apparatus to get the record to play. When I think of those days, I feel like a teenager falling in love for the first time. I can remember dreaming about him. In my mind, we were friends. 

Now he is gone. It's been four years, and I still miss him. I miss his music. I miss his antics. And I know I'm not alone.

Rest in peace, King of Pop. 

Grace

I know two women that seem to be the epitome of grace, and I am inspired by both.  They are two of the most relaxed and centered women I know.  I aspire to be like them. 

What I love about each of these women is their speed. I wouldn't call it slow, although neither of them moves rapidly. The word smooth comes to mind - smooth and methodical and balanced. I see one of these women at my gym. We work out around the same time, and also end our workouts around the same time. That is, when I show up. She is always there, when I show up.

She prefers to swim, even if it's raining outside. Afterwards I will see her in the hot tub, and then she will make her way home. We rarely chat, but I know she recognizes me from working out at the same place over the years. I admire how she sticks to her swimming routine day after day, week after week, year after year. Her dedication is impressive. 

I occasionally have a chance to chat with the other woman. She is retired now, but occasionally shows up to substitute at the school where I work. She says she does it once a week to remind herself why she is retired. We shared our lunch break the other day. I love how she doesn't gossip, she just shares her thinking and her philosophies about living. There is something about her demeanor that is simply relaxing - even when she says she is not (like when she wasn't retired). She has always seemed centered and peaceful to me.

I swear, it's all in the way they move.

Gone Too Soon

Last year, when I was forced to take a year off from work, there occurred the most disastrous day. I can remember sitting, watching the news, and all of a sudden the most unfortunate video splashed across the screen. News began trickling in about an emotionally disturbed boy who had taken out his wrath on an unsuspecting elementary school in Newtown. I watched as people in my profession became heroes, as well as victims. 

Now it has happened again. Two more teacher victims have been taken down this week, and try as I may, I just can't stop thinking about it.  There is an epic problem in the field of education.  Teachers and students are no longer safe. 

I've always respected how the airline industry uses the term souls to account for the people onboard the airplane before takeoff. I think it's the best word to describe people - those we've lost in our schools, or anyplace in the line of duty for that matter. But the problem inside our nation's schools is teachers have not chosen the profession to be combative. In fact, most teachers are more focused on a peaceful existence, presenting topics to kids about problem solving and character, along side their lessons which also contain academic rigor. Like deer in the headlights, or lambs being led to slaughter, or Ducks Unlimited dedicated teachers are working hard today in our schools, which unfortunately have become a place for killing defenseless souls.

Goodbye to Celeste

I awakened to discover one of the chickens had been lying dead right by the door of the hen house. She was the last of the surviving Wellsummers from our original flock. We called her, Celeste. Unless we want to "cut her open," like I've just read online, or send her off for a necropsy, we won't learn the cause of death. I think she may have simply lived her life and died. Apparently, chickens can live anywhere from 11 years at the oldest to 1 or 2 years at the youngest - at least when there is no evidence of foul play.

I read this morning that some people don't name their hens because they live such short lives. I've discovered that to be true enough in practice. We haven't owned this first flock for 3 years yet, and there is only one remaining hen from that original flock. Maybe it's why I'm less attached to them as pets. For instance, we call our newer hens by their breed names more often than "pet" names. Although, I must admit I am feeling more inclined to use their names on this sad morning. 

There's another thing I learned today. People who have larger flocks perform the task of "culling." These are folks who have larger flocks, and basically want to weed out the poorer egg layers. They have criteria for discovering what the lousy layers have in common, in terms of physical characteristics. Who knew? I guess our idea to serve the older, larger birds for dinner could be considered a form of culling, but now that aspect of our backyard chicken adventure is coming nearer to fantasy than reality.

The truth is Celeste was the most onry hen we owned. She was the queen of the hens. She was the top hen in the pecking order in our flock. Today the others are looking around wondering what to do. They look a little confused, and they are acting quite subdued. Maybe they are thinking, "When do I take my turn to eat?" 

I will observe which hen takes the place of queen in the flock, and I will report back. But I have a feeling I already know it will be the Buff Orpington. Her name is, Buffy, the coyote slayer.  Interestingly, she was too shy to pose for a picture, but the Rhode Island Red, the one we call, Rhoda, was proud to step up to the camera.

One of my Best Days

Sometimes being a good mom involves something that seems trivial but is super important to your child. Take, for instance, the phone call I recently received from one of my offspring. It was a call that sounded urgent, but after conversing for a few moments turned into the question...

Mom, exactly what time of day was I born on my birthday?

I spewed out the wrong time like lightning, as if I had memorized it yesterday.  But more and more these days my memory serves me incorrectly, and just to be certain, I double checked my statement as our conversation progressed. Fortunately, I knew exactly where to look for the answer. When I got to the place where I had the information carefully tucked it away, I learned, once again, that my memory had failed me.

No worries. This was my child, one of the greatest loves of my life, and forgiveness came from within the knowledge that I had now verified the the actual time of birth correctly. 

"You were born at 2:10 PM," I stated with authority. It's interesting that I had thought it was actually early in the morning, but now as I think back, I remember that I was in labor for a very long time. I can recall going through three nurses shifts during what was my first delivery experience. After discovering the correct time, I can remember the experience a little better. It was, after all, one of the best days of my life.

Nurse Roxie

I had a bout with some sort of virus that included a sore throat lasting over a week. That's a tough order for someone in a profession that requires a lot of talking.  After working the whole week, I finally broke down and took last Friday off for rest and recuperation. It felt wonderful, even though I felt less than 50%, to lounge around in my jammies and sip tea with honey. 

It is during these times, when I am visually at my worst and physically weakened, that I truly appreciate the companionship of my doggies, Roxie and Bentley. Both of these dogs are in no way as super cool as my Hardy was, but they both deserve honorable mention for lying around in bed with me, keeping me company as I dealt with the blahs. The best moment happened when I was awakened by my scratchy throat rattle as I unsucessfully tried to sleep in, finally deciding to get up at around 6 a.m.  I placed both feet on the floor, and felt the warmth of where my Roxie had slept all night next to the bed. 

Once my feet were on the floor, she quietly moved toward the door to get out of my way. I got up and ungracefully stumbled out the bedroom door with a moan. Being careful to stay out of my way, she walked politely by my side, and we worked our way down the stairs and into the kitchen. I'm not sure which behavior comforted me more: the warmth of her body next to my bed (that told me she was there by my side for most of the night), or how she carefully walked with me as I went downstairs. In any case, it reminded me how much I value the loyalty and companionship of a dog. I hope every animal lover gets a chance to feel it too someday.

Beginner Dog Obedience Graduates

Roxie and Bentley completed their beginner dog obedience class this morning. They are fairly obedient - that is, when no other dogs are in the shopping rows of the pet store. They both can sit, down, stay, come, shake, and spin. I think it's me who is doing the spinning though. In any case, here are their blurry photos. Maybe because the lines for the doggie graduates is blurry?

Dead Men Tell No Tales

I am alive to tell the tale of my sailing adventure last night. I feel lucky, but at the same time I feel like I tempted fate, yet again, or survived something from someone's bucket list, but not mine.

It was the basic beer can sailing race. Wednesday night is a Santa Cruz yacht harbor gentlemen's race, although I question the gentlemen aspect from time to time, but that's another story. It was typical at the start and at the finish, but in the middle, it was atypical, because for the first time in my life, in plus or minus five years of this not so serious Wednesday night keelboat racing, we almost... capsized. And I mean it.

Last night's sail demonstrated the very reason why I don't bring friends who think it would be fun to tag along on my Wednesday night sailing expeditions. Are you an excellent swimmer? I often query to the tenacious ones. This is my attempt at reminding them that the ocean is a powerful and chilling force that can swallow up even the best of us, as we recently saw during the gathering of the sailors in SF for this years America's Cup practice runs, when an amazing yacht racer was lost in the grip of her freezing underwater hold. It reminded all of us, crazy as we may be, that sailboat racing is NOT for the faint of heart. Yet those of us who love the sport keep coming back again and again and again. It's a little like an addiction. We know it can kill us, but we keep coming back for more.

For about ten long seconds last night, I think it's safe to say that each of us was thinking we were going down. Even our captain commented in the midst of the intensity, "...we might be doing some swimming tonight." 

He is an excellent sailor, Captain Steve. I have sailed with this man in some major league bad weather, often with some sketchy crew (myself included). We have sailed in high winds and low, rough weather, fog, large fast swells, and long sickeningly slow rolling ones. We've been keeled over so far I've sometimes had my doubts if we would successfully tack, and we've sat still in the heat awaiting a bit of a breeze to get us going again, only to hear the rumble of the engine that had to power us back home. After all of these trips, I have felt safe in his boat, Sagittarius. 

It may come as a surprise, but last night's sail was also one of the best of my life. We had the perfect crew for what was to befall. It was so windy many of the sailboats had given up by the time we had successfully rounded the first mark, heading downwind, spinnaker up, and smoothly heading south towards Capitola. Everything was going smoothly, but we were cruising fast, as the combination of the waves and wind kept thrusting us forward. By now, most of the crew at the foredeck had dawned their foul weather gear, and they were looking like they needed to, as we pounded the surf, swiftly moving through the Monterey Bay, behind ten or so of the front runners.

Then something incredible happened. The powers of nature began to mess with our 38 Cat. We began to bob and roll, a little at first, but soon we were hitting some rolling white tipped waves, as the wind continued to relentlessly push us in a crosswise direction. All of a sudden the boom came crashing across the cockpit. It felt as if we were trying to jibe, but we weren't. Sagittarius tipped to the starboard side, and I watched the clew side of boom skim the ocean, and the spinnaker deflate and edge towards the same side. Our more experienced sailors sprung into action. Count to three and the jib was furled in. Two more beats and the spinnaker was pulled back on deck. In three more seconds, we were back on track, and someone argued, "No one's going to do any swimming tonight."

As we returned, it came a little as a surprise at the calm beauty of the Santa Cruz harbor. I like to think I was not alone feeling relieved this time to be returning no worse for the wear, chatting about how the boat's hull needed a scrub. I have no doubt, and I know I'm not alone, in the knowledge that each one of us will all be back, yet again, for more. 

Tuberoses in Bloom

Today I watched the movie, Disneynature: Wings of Life, and just couldn't help but notice the beautiful pollination attractors in my yard. I do so love a good flower. Always have. I can remember getting in trouble as a youngster for plucking them out of other peoples yards, walking around my home town as a teenager with a daisy chain adorning my head, and just recently being thrilled when receiving a lei of tuberoses upon our arrival on the Big Island at the airport in Hawaii. Now after listening to the voice Meryl Streep, speaking the words of a flower in first person, I am again enamored with the lovelies that are often so taken for granted. Sometimes, even by me.

It happens that we are precisely at the time of year when tuberoses are in bloom in my gardening zone. They bloom perennially during these warm days and nights in late July and early August. I was seduced to plant them many years ago because I believe their scent is complete bliss and makes me feel relaxed and content. This time of year I try to take the time to pay a visit each day, if only for a couple of seconds, to inhale their luscious perfume first hand. It becomes almost impossible for me to pass by without stopping and pinching off a bloom to float in a small glass of water inside my home. I think: it's true what people say... the best things in life are free.

 

Winner, Winner - Fall or Winter

I so enjoy watching my dorky hens run around on our hill in the backyard. Everyday I watch them, somedays longer than others. I frequently attend to them as I share my garden discards with them. Yesterday, for example, I watched them peck each other as they tried to devour a couple of my rejected nectarines, and they love the mushy strawberries I randomly toss to them. I won't even get into how they love the lizards. This morning I had to laugh out loud wham they were playing the chase game over what looked like a piece of cotton. But need to come clean about my chickens.

The two flocks are not merging well, and the older hens are not only laying infrequently, but also super annoying to the younger egg producers. If I am truthful, I am not very fond of the survivors from the coyote attack we experienced this past winter. They are the mean hens, and since the coyote got to eat one of my favorites, I have to admit these birds are starting to look more and more like MY dinner. 

Also, I forgot how many eggs hens lay in their first year. We have almost a dozen in the fridge, and more will undoubtedly be out there today. The egg layers are the chicks we acquired this past Spring. The older hens have practically stopped. So today on a whim, I decided to perform a search to discover some information about local butchers. What I found was a lot of gross YouTube garbage, complete with warnings about their graphic content, which I decided I didn't want to even consider.

Then I found an entry titled, "Cultivating Home: How to Butcher a Chicken (the easy way)."  I took a deep breath, and I clicked. 

What I discovered was a super informative blog about how to butcher a chicken. I found myself amused in a science project sort of way, sometimes laughing along the way. Yes. I was actually laughing! I wanted information, and that is exactly what I got. After all, I am completely mindful of where the neatly wrapped chicken comes from in the grocery store - sometimes in my life so much so that I've been vegetarian for many years of my life. 

Will I be able to do this? I do wonder. I'm thinking maybe this Fall or Winter, when the younger hens will need the space and, perhaps more importantly, peace in the hen house. Then I think... Maybe it will be more like the room addition to our house. We put down some good money for the plans, but we still haven't moved forward with the construction. 

Chaminade

It has been a very long time since I have been here. I still had Hardy, in fact. I remember he had to wait in my car and I was hard pressed to find a shady parking spot. But they are extremely pet friendly now. Just check out this yappy hour menu!

Have You Ever Been Screwed?

Many people have been asking me why I took a year off from teaching. And if you've been reading this blog, it would seem as though the obvious reason was that I needed to recuperate. Right? Well that's not entirely true. My conversation at the grocery store sparked memories of the unpleasantness surrounding my decision to take time off and focus on my health. My recounting, again, being the catalyst for my thoughts today. After having almost a year to think about it, my reason for not teaching last year was because I was, to put it bluntly, screwed. 

While it is true that I forgive all parties involved, and I don't hold a grudge, because I have had a wonderful year off, two teachers froze me out of the system. The first one, who had been working in a job share position that I helped to formalize, contacted me and asked me to be her partner. I was delighted, because we had been talking about being partners for years. It began when she started raising her family and we were working on the tech team together. When she contacted me, I can remember thinking it seemed too good to be true, and I could hardly believe my good fortune. When I expressed this to her in a a text message, she reassured me that it would likely work out. I moved forward and informed my job share partner about the potential change. She said she understood, and she gave me her blessing. 

All of this job share stuff falls under teacher contract deadlines. We all, if we want to job share, must adhere to the deadlines by completing paperwork and getting approval from our principals. But three months later, when my new partner went to finalize our partnership with the principal, she decided on choosing... someone else. And to make matters worse, she didn't tell me until after that meeting, when deadlines were less than a month away. With a heavy heart, I went back to my original partner, but it was too late, she had already found someone else. 

The only thing left to do was find another partner, or reject my doctor's recommendation to work part time. I wasn't capable back then to take on the full time position, so I was basically forced to take the year off - with NO pay! Thank you very much. I won't see another paycheck until the end of September. I have learned things I never dreamed about this past year, but the most important one was to forgive, but don't forget. I wish both of those ladies well, but they will probably not get any favors from me ever again, and if anybody asks, I'm telling what happened.

Classroom Help

Yesterday I bumped into a teacher friend of mine at our local healthy grocer. It was nice catching up with her about this past school year. She is a retired kindergarten teacher and currently works in the district as a substitute. I was flattered when she recognized me and asked if I could help her with the techie devices in our classrooms these days. She said she would even pay me to help her learn. I don't want to take money from a retired teacher, but I do want to help her, so I struck a deal with her. 

I proposed that she volunteer in my class next year and I will help her learn the devices when the opportunity arises. To my delight she thought it was the perfect idea. So today I'm just wanting to put it out there that I feel like I have some sort of guardian angel. One that is helping me towards the greater good. And I am grateful.

YOLO - You Only Live Once

It was about 9 a.m. when we set out with a local man to guide us in the ocean on a kayak voyage up the Napili Bay. We had planned on taking a long trip so we were well rested and raring to go. The waves were more choppy than I'd ever experienced, but we still wanted to get out there. I knew we were in for an adventure, so I wore my dive shirt and a life vest too. At the same time, I was feeling confident as a front seat paddler, so I also wore my visor and sunglasses. 

The three of us began our journey by maneuvering over the waves at the tip of our cove, and then we headed North. The waves were high, and they splashed me more than usual, but I kept paddling. Soon we were headed past the next cove, and the one after that. After about 40 minutes of paddling, we came to a reef that would periodically get flooded by waves, and our guide led us inside it. We had to time our entrance to correlate with the swells of the waves to get past the reef wall. On our first attempt, we were denied, but we succeeded on our second try. It felt a little like a white water raft trip at this point. We paddled inside the calm waters of this tiny cove, and then came out the same way we got in, riding the swell out. 

Now that we were heading back towards home, we meandered along the quiet waters of the neighboring coves in Napili Bay, stopping at a place the locals call Cliff House. As we neared the house there was a small secluded cove where four local girls were swimming. We could hear their giggling and laughing as our friend climbed up a ladder that was literally mounted to the reef. He climbed up the rocks, that looked a lot like Black Rock in Kaanapali, and proceeded to jump off. Not wanting to miss out, we decided to do it too.

It felt great to be back in the kayak, after climbing up to the launching point and leaping off the rocks and into the sea. I'm not a huge fan of swimming in the ocean. I don't particularly enjoy the taste of the salty water. In fact, it's my least favorite part about snorkeling, but that's another story. The local girls didn't seem to mind, and as we paddled away, I realized that they were skinny dipping because they had stopped their giggling and were now headed towards jumping off the rocks with their bikinis in place.

In order to keep our kayak from tipping we had to paddle far offshore and ride the waves back to our home cove. We went out so far that we found ourselves directly in the path of a couple of motoring sailboats. The island looked stunning, as the waves pushed and pulled us around. We paddled hard to keep from capsizing, which I am proud to state, we did not! It was easy to keep my cool due to the beauty that surrounded me. If I looked ahead, I saw Maui, behind me was Molokai, and off to the starboard side was Lanai. The power of the ocean helped us make it to shore fast. All I can think about now is doing it again with a waterproof camera, but the images in my mind are likely to be more unforgettable. 

Na Kumu Mele and the Dancers

We had the wisdom to venture out, after a super hot day of seeking shelter in the shade, to The Baldwin House in Lahaina, Maui for a free concert by Na Kumu Mele. What a fun it was sitting on the benches listening to this talented trio croon both traditional and contemporary Hawaiian music for about an hour, occasionally calling out their beautiful hula girls for a dance. There was a little girl, about five years old, mimicking the hula girls as they swayed to the music with their lovely hula hands. Her mother kept telling her to stop and sit down, until she realized the adults were just as entertained by the novice dancer in the making, as the pros - who we discovered were recent high school graduates and on the "hula team." 

The band kept telling the crowd to sing along, but many of us didn't because they were so darn good! I couldn't help myself during Lahainaluna, as well as, Lahaina, the song by Loggins and Messina about the centipede. Lighthearted fun was had by all, and evidenced by the two adult dancers on separate occasions. The first was a young man who stepped up for a couple of modern dance twists, turns, and high kicks, and the second came during an encore when a young lady danced the hula for their final song. It made me wish I had followed up on the idea I had last year to learn how to hula. 

Kayaking in Napili

We wanted to try something new this year, so we decided to see the Napili side of the island from the perspective of a kayak.  I am so glad we did!  Yesterday it was a little choppy, being the afternoon and all. We used the time to practice our paddle skills. It was difficult to wait until early this morning for our first adventure, but since Wednesday night is the pupu gathering at the Cove, we got over it. 

Finally, it was morning, so we paddled out beyond the tip of the reef depicted in the photo below. We went out past the breaker waves and all the way to the next reef tip. Our trip took about 45 minutes from start to finish, and it was extremely satisfying. I learned that the ocean isn't really that deep out there. The bottom of the ocean floor was easily seen, and we could make out patches of coral of all different types, because the visibility was so good. We also saw the strangest turtle behavior. We thought a turtle was in distress, so paddled in for a closer look. What we discovered was two turtles bobbing and weaving, attached to each other. I'm thinking we witnessed one of nature's greatest miracles.

The view from out there is incredible. It isn't often that we've seen the island coast from this perspective except from a plane or sailboat. Today from kayak it was breathtaking to say the least. I also enjoyed the smoothness of the water in the a.m. hour. I think we left around 7 and got back at about ten minutes to 8. I am so glad we've got the kayak for a week. It may even be worth a trip to the  store for a new waterproof camera. It's surprising to discover there is another way to appreciate Honokeana Cove, and definitely will be included in our daily morning routine.

At The Cove

Honokeana Cove is popular this morning. When we went out for a snorkel, we were the only ones in the water. Now there are about 20 or so people swimming about. I was wondering if it would ever get crowded out there. When we arrived yesterday the water was empty, save for a couple of Kiki and their parents. It's disappointing that our underwater camera stopped working. 

Kilauea and Hilo Side

We began our day early with a walk through a rainforest and lava tube in the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park area. The lush rainforest was empty and we experienced the sounds and sights of the  rainforest alone. I wish I could begin every day like that. 

After a walk through the lava tube, and a jaunt to the crater rim at the Jagger Museum, we had buffet breakfast at The Volcano House. The food was average, but the view of the crater was worth it. I was so inspired, I picked up a book about Volcanoes in the tourist trinket shop. I must have been a geologist in a past life. 

We walked the black sand beach at Kalapana. After awhile the black sand beaches get a little boring on the big island; there are simply so many of them. It looked like there must have been a wedding recently because we followed a trail of plumeria blossoms to the coastline. It felt like sacred ground. 

Finally, it was time to gather at the airport for the helicopter tour of the lava flows and waterfalls. This was incredible. We had a wonderful pilot named Kovi, who expertly maneuvered the chopper around the island as we listened to his narration mixed with traditional Hawaiian music in our headphones. It was hard to come back down to earth after that. We finished with an excellent dinner at Ponds.

Flume Ditch Adventure

This excursion was by far the most fun one I have ever been on. It begins with a road trip on a huge jeep type vehicle that eventually takes a private dirt road up to the irrigation flumes and tunnels in the mountains of Kohala. The "ditch" was created by Chinese laborers and the guides share a little bit of history and humor as the trip unfolds. It was fun listening to our brilliant local Hawaiian guide as we went on this fabulous adventure. 

We were dropped off at the ditch location, and there was a short walk through the lush landscape over a quaint pedestrian bridge and into a kayak we went. It's not fast, but it is breathtaking, as the kayak meanders down the flume type ride through dark tunnels, dense rainforest canopy, and over a huge waterfall, where we saw a zip liner pass overhead. 

The worst part of the trip was when it ended. But I felt closer to knowing The Big Island of Hawaii, as well as satisfied after an awesome adventure. This excursion should be on everyone's bucket list. ATV Outfitters is the company who takes people there. I couldn't recommend a nicer group of people to experience the island like a native! 

Turtles in the Sun

We walked along the black sand beach that is known for having turtle visitors and I snapped this photo of them. 

The Big Island

This is my first visit to the Big Island of Hawaii. I can remember thinking as we were landing, "This island is huge." After we got off the plane (we disembarked off the plane using the stairway type of gear), it immediately looked like  a less  populated tropical island. We got to fly first class and we were in the front row if the plane, so I felt a little like a movie star

as I walked down the staircase.  

We were met by our friend who I'll call Grandad Bob. He put a tuberose lei over my shoulders and said, "Welcome to my island." He has been showing us around ever since. 

Here is his ohana - where we are staying.  It's located on the 3 acres of his property near Hilo in a place called Ocean View. The ocean is about 5 miles away, but his property is lush and also has a nice patio and pool for dipping. 

That's a Huge Weed

I was looking out the window, and I saw something that looked like an overgrown weed that needed removal. Upon closer inspection I discovered my first artichoke of the season.

Noxious weeds

I got up early on this beautiful morning in May so I could get a little bit of work done in the sunniest parts of my garden before the temperature got out of control. We have a family of scrub jays that have decided our berries are their dinner. Those birds have not yet experienced my resolve to succeed. After all, my homegrown, organic strawberries are about to come in. I am not about to let them be food for the birds. Today's garden project was to put in place a barrier of bird netting, and strategically place the cat statue.

That project was easy, and it went up fast. I expect great results, although I did notice the strawberry patch may also need some mulch. When I looked up, feeling triumphant over the jays, I noticed the two Sycamore trees I planted two years ago are looking tired. I decided to water. I started those Sycamores from seed over seven years ago and one of them is looking terrible. I was hoping I wouldn't have to attend them this year, but we have simply NOT had enough rain this spring.

Tell that to the noxious weed that spreads out on our backyard hill more and more each and every year. I am referring to the yellow star thistle that has claimed residence in our neighborhood. Star thistle has to be THE most annoying plant on the planet. I went up to pay homage to my sycamore trees, worried they wouldn't make it through this hot day, and there was that awful plant coming in just like it does every year with a vengeance. There, amongst the dying wild grasses and pink clover are tiny, light green patches of star thistle.

Weeds seem like such a nuisance and annoyance in the garden. These ones are the worst visitor, much like my seriously unfortunate circumstance with Hardy, or the awful injustice that has befallen Amanda Knox. Her sad memoir hit the bookshelves yesterday, and I picked up a copy hoping to help her cause. These bad instances, like weeds, crop up from seemingly nowhere and cause discourse, pain, anguish, and serious questioning about everything from the existence of a higher power to surviving and growing in a hostile environment.

I've always thought that life is filled with good and bad for a reason. I think it's a law of nature. People can push through the bad circumstances because tucked inside we can still experience moments of love, happiness, and even humor. The randomness of good and bad events teach us to muster through. It is similar to playing a slot machine in a casino. The unknown outcome keeps us going through good and bad rewards. We believe that something wonderful could soon follow, so we hang in there and keep trying to win that jackpot. I guess gardening is the same. In some ways I keep on trying for nature's reward.

MYOB

Last weekend my husband and I went out to lunch at one of our favorite restaurants. As it happens, this restaurant isn't pet friendly. We were in Santa Cruz and its the beginning of paid parking season, so we decided to purchase a $35 seasonal permit. With our new parking pass securely affixed to the car window, we began searching like a shark swarming around for its prey trying to locate an appropriate place that had enough shade to keep the dogs comfortable. Finally, we found a place to park our car.

We rolled down the windows a bit to provide ventilation, and tried as best we could to get the dogs to quietly wait for us while we grabbed a bite to eat. Unfortunately, Bentley has the terrible habit of barking stressfully whenever we leave him - even if one of us remains. This time was no different. As we walked away, we heard him carrying on, but we were sure the dogs would settle down, and upon our return they were resting comfortably. We had spent about an hour and a half inside the restaurant, and returned to our car with a note left under the windshield (in the shape of a traffic ticket). The note berated us for leaving our dogs in the car unattended. The note went on to call us abusive, said the dogs had barked for hours while we were gone, and stated that the police were called because of this.

Really? To whomever wrote that note: mind your own business!

I get so tired of people, those who probably don't even own a dog, telling me what is or is not abusive treatment of my pets. We never leave them without making sure they are pretty darn comfortable. We also go back and check on them frequently when they are in the car (although we don't go too close so as not to upset them). In fact, that day we had been enjoying the company of the dogs all morning, and had just finished walking them for over an hour. They even got to socialize with other dogs at the park before our walk.

This isn't the first time either. About six months ago, I had stopped to get a cup of coffee at a local Starbucks and upon my return to the car, a concerned woman had called security. There was a line in the coffee shop that made the dogs and me wait for maybe 15 minutes, but the car was in the shade, and the car thermometer read 65 degrees, so I wasn't worried. Imagine my surprise when I returned and there was a woman antagonizing my dogs just outside my car. Roxie was hiding and shuddering, and Bentley was barking away. The security officer seemed embarrassed. He turned to the woman and said there was no need for concern, but the woman yelled at me saying it was obvious that I didn't love my pets, as she stomped away.

What makes people feel like they have the right to get into other people's business like this? They must think they are advocating for defenseless animals, but if they truly want to defray cruelty towards animals, they should try sending money to their favorite animal charity, and keep it at that. Maybe then something good would come from their attempt to help out.

Patio Chat

I went away for the weekend to visit the condo in Santa Cruz. Today I'm sitting out on the patio watching the birds and butterflies as they flit by. The sound of the splashing water from my fountain is music to my ears. It is so relaxing, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, it's just the hubby and me here to enjoy it.

At one point I started thinking about our upcoming trip to Hawaii, and tried to picture what the "big island" is like. I will have to wait and see because everyone has an opinion about Hawaii and their favorite island, and even their favorite side of the island (windward or leeward). The leeward side being the hotter and less rainy side. The windward being the side of the island that is wetter, and therefore more lush because of it.

Sometimes it seems like the majority of the people I talk with enjoy less rain, and they're willing to forgo the lushness of the rainy parts of Hawaii because of this. Sitting out in the lovely weather here in Santa Cruz, I can definitely understand this. At the same time, I can't stop loving the windward side, when in the tropics, because I love the rainbows and the greenery. I so enjoy a walk through a rainforest type area. I hope it brings a rainbow or two along the way.

Hawaii Bound

For the past two years I've been using my Alaska Air charge card for travel. I have a different travel credit card that I use to rack up miles by purchasing groceries and such, but the Alaska card with the companion fare beats the alternate for travel every time. With the Alaska card, it's like getting buy one, get one free. I can't recommend a better way to get good fares on non-stop flights to Hawaii - or anyplace Alaska Airlines flies for that matter.

I mean, do people really rack up the needed 80,000 miles it takes for a free round trip flight to Maui? I think not.

Here is how we got our great deal to Kona and Maui and then home again...

First we selected a flight that applied the companion fare directly into the itinerary on Alaska Air's easy to use member website. We chose to fly to Kona first. Next I dusted off the other travel credit card, and booked two free flights to island hop from the Big Island to Maui. We booked a return flight from Kahului, Maui using a companion fare as well.

What was the total for all flights? A little less than $900 - including taxes.

Snorkeling with the turtles? Priceless.

Climbing Roses

I could not resist a stop to sniff the climbing roses today. My yard has several climbers, and the sweet fragrance is everywhere. I placed this one to hide the unsightly lamp post in our front yard. It is now one of my favorite plantings. I love how nature helps out when needed.

Earth Day Anthem

Sing this song to the tune of Ode to Joy...

Joyful joyful we adore our Earth in all its wonderment
Simple gifts of nature that all join into a paradise
Now we must resolve to protect her
Show her our love throughout all time
With our gentle hand and touch
We make our home a newborn world
Now we must resolve to protect her
Show her our love throughout all time
With our gentle hand and touch
We make our home a newborn world

-author unknown

Best and Worst Fruits and Veggies

I just skimmed through an article the daily green (link posted at the end), where I discovered some food for thought. Here are some fruits and vegetables that they say have the most pesticides...

1. Apples
2. Celery
3. Strawberries
4. Peaches
5. Spinach
6. Imported Nectarines
7. Imported Grapes
8. Sweet Bell Peppers
9. Potatoes
10. Blueberries
11. Lettuce
12. Kale

Here are ones with the least, according to the Environmental Working Group's 2011 Clean 15 list...

1. Onions
2. Sweet Corn
3. Pineapple
4. Avocado
5. Asparagus
6. Sweet peas
7. Mango
8. Eggplant
9. Cantaloupe (domestic)
10. Kiwi
11. Cabbage
12. Watermelon
13. Sweet Potatoes
14. Grapefruit
15. Mushrooms

Read more: http://www.thedailygreen.com/healthy-eating/eat-safe/dirty-dozen-foods#ixzz2R3ikVLGZ

The Hottest Day

              “I have to find Norma.” Tilly said to me as I passed through the doors for a visit several weeks later. No one was paying any attention to her; they were just happy to see us again at Whitegate, but Tilly was adamant, judging from her furrowed brow and unpredictable pacing. “I told Norma that we would meet today, and I can’t find her.”
               It had to be the hottest summer day on record. It felt like it couldn’t have been less than 100 degrees outside; it was probably hotter. In contrast, the temperature inside the facility at Whitegate was cool, comfortable, and refreshing. It was a relief when we arrived for our weekly visit, but even Hardy’s presence was not calming Tilly down that day.

       “Have you seen Norma?” she kept asking people. On this day she was uninterested in slowing down, nor sitting on the couch to converse with us. I watched as she wandered around erratically. She eventually waltzed directly out the front door and outside into the sweltering heat. Sensing the danger, I left the dogs at our visiting area following her outside. The stifling heat assaulted me as I passed through Whitegate’s threshold, but it didn’t seem to phase Tilly in the slightest.

       “I need to find Norma. I can’t find her. She must be lost.”
       “Who is Norma?” I asked. I thought Norma may have been a new resident that Tilly had befriended.

       “She’s a friend from my childhood,” she answered. “We’ve been friends for years.”

       I started to understand why no one was listening to Tilly as she searched for her lost friend. I had never met a childhood friend of Tilly’s in my months of visiting. I decided to ask one of the staff nurses about Norma, but first I needed to get Tilly out of the dangerous high temperature outdoors. I watched helplessly as Tilly went around the corner of the building, her resolve compelling her to search for her friend.

       “Tilly!” I shouted after her, “Norma wouldn’t come out here today. It’s too hot!”

       Tilly stopped in her tracks. Obviously, I had convinced her. She turned around and moved towards me, still displaying a concerned look on her face. “You are right. She wouldn’t be outside. I’ll check upstairs.”

       As Tilly hurried back inside Whitegate, I breathed a sigh of relief. My next course of action was to find out about Norma. I went back to our visiting area, and I was pleased to see that the residents were enjoying the company of the dogs. In fact, they seemed proud to have been able to “pet sit” for me in my absence. I was touched, but still concerned about Tilly’s predicament. When I asked about Norma, each of them in turn admitted that they didn’t really know what Tilly was talking about. They hadn’t ever met anyone at the facility by that name. Moreover, they said that Tilly had been acting strangely all day, obsessing about finding her childhood friend. 

Tilly's Pats

Tilly hated us when we first met. “Dogs do NOT belong here,” she stated when she first saw us. I felt slighted, at first. Then I learned that no one was listening. When I met her, she didn’t have any friends. Maybe that’s why she would always be sitting on the sofa that was adjacent to the dining room waiting for us to arrive on our visiting days all alone.

She was a small woman. She only stood about five feet tall, but she had a ton of spunk, and she loved to debate anything and everything. She was quite agile when she wanted to be, yet oftentimes she would nod off as we sat relaxing on the couch in the afternoon – once she came to accept us. In the beginning, it seemed like most people were glad when she fell asleep. The usual crowd of visitors would finally walk over and initiate a conversation with me or interact with the dogs, as Tilly slept quietly next to us. It didn’t take long for her to change her mind, thanks to Hardy’s antics.

Hardy loved Tilly. Once she had decided to sit down with us, she was like putty in his hands. He would just cuddle up next to her and lie down for awhile. Then he would perform his trademark behavior. He would take his muzzle and nudge underneath the palm of her hand so as to encourage her to pet him. How could she resist? Just as research suggested, sharing time with Hardy seemed to calm whatever what was bothering her. It got so that whenever we would arrive, she would be waiting for us, or she would just be finishing her lunch and come over to plop down on the sofa, cantankerous attitude and all. By the time she patted Hardy’s back a few times, it would bring out her gentle nature.

As our visits became commonplace for her, it was Tilly who would be quietly waiting on the couch watching all of the residents come and go, awaiting our arrival. Once we would arrive, Hardy would snuggle up with her and eventually she would nod off. This would signal the other residents to move into our inner circle. It would also be the signal for Hardy to jump down and perform for them. By the time Tilly awoke, most of the visitors had already enjoyed our company and had moved on with their day. Sometimes this was the time I would engage in conversation with her, other times I would simply say good –bye and move on with my day.

After her afternoon nap with Hardy, Tilly would be refreshed and revitalized. She would then get up and wander around the nearby gaming area and join into a game of cards or do a jigsaw puzzle. If the weather was nice, she would go outside for a walk. When it was she who would move on she would always inquire about when we would be back to visit again, remarking that she hoped it would be soon.

April Garden

I should have taken before and after photos of my garden today because I was very productive out there. I'm glad to report that the second planting of tomatoes went into the top hill bed. It will be the cherry row. I also put in a bit of butter lettuce at the same time. I used to love my grandpa's butter lettuce, so today's planting was in honor of him.

I did a ton of weeding and cleaning up and the results look great. I wish I had a before photo because it was impossible to walk outside on the patio without making a yellow pollen mess from the Birch tree seed pods. I got a great arm workout sweeping up that messy debris, and now it's beautiful out on the patio.

After I could walk freely without tracking seeds everywhere, I weeded around the blueberry bushes. These have only been in a year, but it looks like the largest one is going to produce a lot of berries. I worked the hillside to help with blueberry irrigation, since it hasn't been raining, and there is no rain in the forecast. I'm glad it's not as windy today.

Out to Lunch

Yesterday we found a cute little view location to have lunch. We've been sightseeing with a couple of relatives who were visiting for the weekend. This new discovery is called Auberge de Soliel. It is the subject of many a painting and now I can see why. It's not a place we can take the dogs, so it worked out that they stayed home this time.

Bentley in the Car

Bentley was just sitting looking super cute when I was parked the other day. I had just received this rendering of him from Olivia. Not bad for an 8 year old!

A Good Read

I recently learned how to use Overdrive to download eBooks from the library. I am currently reading, Master Your Metabolism, by Jillian Michaels. Her premise is that our bodies are out of whack due to poor food choices, and that those poor choices lead to hormone imbalances that make it difficult for our bodies to burn fat properly. Some of her food preparation tips are worth a mention.

- Choose organic foods whenever possible.
- Remove visible fat from meats.
- Peel skins to eliminate pesticides.
- Remove outer leaves of lettuce and cabbage.
- Chop off the stem part of fruits.
- Look for BPA free wrap.

Bisphenol A (BPA) is a compound that is found in plastic containers and cans. It's the same compound that has been identified as toxic, and banned from use in baby bottles.

Because of this, pay attention to packaging products. Buy foods in cardboard containers, and use glass containers for storing leftovers. Make sure to microwave foods in glass, not plastic.

List of foods to avoid:
Hydrogenated fats
Refined grains
High fructose corn syrup (HFCS)
Artificial sweeteners, preservatives, and colors (especially BHA, butylated hydroxyanisole)
Glutamates (like MSG)

Iris is my Favorite Flower

Today in the garden I saw these super tiny lady bug type insects pollinating my pear tree. I may get quite a few pears this year judging from the number of blossoms. I wouldn't have noticed them if I hadn't stopped to snap a picture of this Bearded Iris. I took the photo from this angle to show my grandfather's technique for keeping the tomato plants safe from snails.

Spot the Hens

I've got a lot of work to do outside and it's not raining! So glad to be feeling better after several weeks of on and off migraines.

Can you spot the hens in their backyard habitat? They have grown since their debut back in February. Hint: they are high on the hill.

About Mike

There was a man named Mike who was particularly fond of Hardy. I thought it endearing when Mike would arrive to say hello to his favorite dog, Buddy (Mike’s name for him). He usually showed up to visit much later compared with the everyone else. By the time most of the other residents had already retreated back to the comfort to their rooms, Mike would arrive from his walk throughout the grounds, and in a loud voice holler across the room, “Hello Buddy.”

Hardy would react by wagging his tail and tugging hard at his leash so he could run and greet Mike. I would always drop the leash and allow Hardy to run to his friend and let them interact independently. They were always bursting with mutual admiration for each other. After a brief but enthusiastic salutation, Eugene would pick up the leash and walk his “Buddy” around the foyer introducing him to anyone who would listen. “This is my dog, Buddy.” He would say. 

Mike was a large man, both in size and in character. He stood over six feet tall and was built like a football player. He had a kind expression and sparkling blue eyes. Unlike most of the residents at Whitegate, he was able to move around lithely without the assistance of a walker. He was always cheerful and frequently displayed his affection for Hardy when they returned from their meet and greet stroll. As he said good-bye I would frequently witness Mike wiping his misty eyes with a sentimental sniff.

I’m not sure if Mike knew who I was, but he sure enjoyed interacting with my dog. Word around the facility was that he had Alzheimer’s and had a difficult time recognizing people from his past. I came to believe that he thought I was a relative bringing his dog, Buddy, for a weekly visit, but I didn’t mind. I thought it charming to watch their interactions, and how happy they both behaved whenever they were reunited. One day, Mike just stopped coming around, and when I queried the director about his whereabouts, I was informed that it was becoming too dangerous for him to be on his own. He had been moved to a facility that focused on memory conditions. 

Undivided Attention

Need I say more?

SCC Wags

The seniors at Whitegate came to know the dogs and me not only as a company that provided pet therapy, but as friends. On our visiting day, they would sit and wait for us to arrive at our designated spot by the dining room. Many of them had cute stories they would repeat again and again about their own pets from days gone by. Each of them seemed to have their favorite “therapist,” and it was fun to learn the reasons why. Hardy was always popular with the folks who had any type of terrier or those who needed a hypoallergenic dog, but particularly by those who had once owned a Schnauzer. Chico was the favorite to those who loved a shorthaired, Chihuahua or Jack Russell terrier.

As lunch was served, I would wait on the nearby couch with the dogs and chat with residents as they walked back to their room. Some would remain with me for the duration of my stay, and some would relax on the sofa with one of the dogs. Sometimes they would ask me to show off by performing tricks. Both dogs and humans alike loved this. Often the employees would stop what they were doing to watch the dogs as they jumped through a hula-hoop, shook hands, or took a bow. The trick that was always good for a laugh was when the dogs were told to wag their tail. This didn’t require any training in the slightest, just altering the voice to use a higher pitch. The dogs always responded by wagging, and the reaction from the crowd was merry.

Shared Canine Companions was slowly gaining momentum. It became evident from the crowds that were waiting on our day to visit that I needed more volunteers. I also needed help organizing everything that came with starting up a company. At this point I was still working with the foster dogs, plus doing a weekly visitation at the lodge. I decided it was important to focus on recruiting. I decided the best route was to take SCC to the streets, literally. I rented a spot in the non-profit section at the annual street faire.

Chicks Do The Strangest Things

Never a dull moment at the "chicken" house. I went outside this morning to discover the new chicks had not gone inside the hen house. One was running around like a dodo bird. The grown hens were squawking and scratching the ground.

Where was the Ameracauna?

Hiding inside the treadle feeder. It looked like she ate quite a bit all night. Whew!

How did she get in there?

Two Geese

Canada geese were on the bike trail today. I've heard a story that when one goose stops to rest during migration, another will remain behind with it until ready to resume flying. I wonder if that's true? In any case, I snapped this photo today on my bike ride to the library. Such beauty and grace.

Shared Canine Companions

        After a lot of thought and deliberation I decided to name my organization Shared Canine Companions, or SCC for short. The concept was simple. I would pull small dogs from shelters and either rehabilitate them to become potential therapy dogs or adopt them out if they weren’t a good fit for the work. I would recruit volunteers interested in pet therapy, and as the trainer, help them pass an in-house behavior certification process. We would visit hospitals or other places in need to share our pet companions providing “lap” pet therapy and entertainment to their clients. The organization would operate off donations – given for services rendered or simply as charity.
        I got to work right away creating marketing tools. Using my home PC, I used a software client to design and publish a website. I made a cute logo, and I had patches and tee shirts printed using a blue and gold color theme. I sewed little blue jackets for the dogs to wear while working, and applied the cute patch with the SCC logo on each side. Finally, I prepared brochures and business cards to use throughout my day so I could promote my business any time, any place. My next move was to drum up places to visit. I figured the volunteers could join in later.
       I took it upon myself to perform cold calls at local hospitals to see if I could begin the pet therapy aspect as an SCC representative with Hardy and Chico. There were several hospitals that were only a few miles from my home. My goal was to book a place that would allow my two pets to begin working and then expand as my volunteer base grew. After all of the positive feedback I was receiving, I thought it would be easy, but in reality, it was the opposite. I felt like a leper repeatedly getting rejected place after place. No one wanted to allow us to visit! Even worse, the places I tried would not even allow my dogs inside their doors.
       I lowered my standards, asking our local hospice agency and a number of rest homes if I could come to visit with my dogs. These places were just as adamant. No dogs allowed. It was simply too much of a liability. After several long and disappointing weeks of searching. I finally found an assisted living home that I could visit. In fact, we were welcomed to come back after lunch was served and perform once a week at a place called Whitegate Lodge.
        Whitegate was a home for older folks who needed minimal assistance throughout their day. The residents had their own suite and came and went as they pleased, using the shuttle bus that picked up and dropped off all day long. There were many activities scheduled throughout the day, and they were happy to include Shared Canine Companions in their weekly schedule. We were asked to come out to a sitting area directly outside of the dining hall where we would be easily recognizable. We were a huge hit from day one.

Searching for a Career

Unfortunately, I wasn’t booked with enough dog training appointments to pay the bills. In fact, the money I earned was only enough for occasional splurges from time to time. I was fortunate that Brad’s financial support for our children and me came in without fail, but I wasn’t content to ride on his coattails forever. I desperately wanted to pull my own weight and make a mark on the world. With all of the responsibilities I had taken on, in addition to taking care of the kids, I found little time for a social life, let alone a career.

I had high expectations for myself when my marriage broke up, but I had no idea how difficult it would be for me to find someone the second time around. I wanted someone who loved me, loved my kids, and loved dogs. I also wanted someone who I thought was a good role model. He absolutely had to have as many assets as I had. That meant he needed to own a house. In my social and occupational circle, it wasn’t likely. Sure there were men out there who were interested, but the standup type of guy I had in mind wasn’t forthcoming.

When I took a step back and looked at my situation, I realized that I was asking for a lot on my end. I didn’t have much of an income, but more importantly, I didn’t have the time. I decided it was best to focus on my career because until I got that worked out, I really didn’t want to move forward with a new relationship anyway.

I still needed a job that paid a salary, not just cash in hand or minimum wage, like I had become accustomed. I also wanted to feel like I was contributing to society in a positive way. At the same time, I also needed something flexible so I could care for my children and at a minimum my two dogs. I needed to get the ball rolling and make some kind of change. Then one day, I had an idea that came from trying to merge my passion for working with dogs and helping people into a career.

I wanted to perform pet therapy with Hardy and Chico. They seemed like the perfect animals to do this type of work. They were small and easy to manage, they were entertaining, and they both really enjoyed being lap pets. I began kicking around different concepts, talking to clients, friends, and family members. Finally, I came up with an idea that was well received by everyone. I could start up a non-profit therapy dog organization. If it worked, I could be the executive director one day. 

Chico's Anniversary

I wrote a cute piece about Chico's adoption anniversary which falls on March 15. Unfortunately, it was lost when I tried to add a photo in the mobile app. Chico is in his late 60s in dog years. So glad he was pulled from a shelter over eleven years ago instead of being put down. He literally was on death row. Thank goodness for the person who saved him that day! I will be forever grateful.

Not So Subtle Persuasion

Unbeknownst to me, my children were staging a coup d'état with the intent to persuade me into agreeing to keep Chico. It was a lot of work, caring for five dogs at a time, and thus far I was resolute that we were not going to keep any of the foster animals. Now that my dog training business was up and running, and I was moving towards pet therapy, I was motivated to reduce the amount of dogs in my care. I wanted to earn a living, not volunteer my life away.

My kids had something different on their minds.

It all happened early one evening after everyone was finished with their responsibilities. We had just finished dinner, the dishes were done, the foster dogs were all fed and tucked safely in their crates in the garage, and homework was finished. It was family time for us. I had been puttering around the house tidying up, and when I came back into the dining room, I became interested in what my children were doing.

Dawn was laughing inwardly, and Chico was sitting quietly in our rocking chair. Nate could not be located at this point, but I remained interested in what was up. All of a sudden, Dawn asked me, yet again, if we could keep Chico. I had become accustomed to this question, and I spewed out my usual response, “When that dog can say yo quiero taco bell. We can keep him.”

I had surmised a long time ago that my statement would get across the message that I was never going to allow that dog to stay. He was a foster dog, and I wanted him to find an excellent home just like the rest of the little canine cherubs. I prepared myself for a chat with both of my children so I could explain why we couldn’t keep him, finding a seat at the dining room table. At that moment, I looked around for Nate again, but still heard, nor saw nothing.

I looked over at Chico,who was still sitting calmly in the rocking chair. “Yo quiero taco bell,” he seemed to say as his lips moved and smacked together.

He looked like the dog on the television commercial – actually talking. I laughed aloud, knowing now where my son had been hiding. I got up from my chair to see for myself. It turned out that Nate was scrunched behind the rocking chair speaking the popular and necessary words for Chico. Nate was Chico’s voice. They had fed the dog peanut butter so he would move his mouth in a way that looked like he was actually talking. I had no idea how long they had been working on this feat, but it was really entertaining and it worked.

“Okay.” I said, “You win. We can keep him.”

Cheers could likely have been heard outside our home, as the kids laughed and danced with glee. Soon after, they got Hardy and Chico howling along, and it was noisy, and boisterous, and triumphant, and gratifying. 

Doggie Singing Lessons

“This dog has been an angel while he was in my room,” Dawn reported after finishing her homework. My assessment of Tiny-Chico after surgery had been correct. He was an extremely affectionate dog with a pleasant demeanor. By now the sedation had completely worn off, yet he only wanted to relax with her in a place that was cozy and comfortable.

            Before long, he was getting the same privileges as Hardy, and he was becoming a beloved member of our family. Nate had taken to him as well, often retreating into his room with our foster dog they were now calling Chico. The dog loved to please my children, and he loved relaxing with them whenever they were quietly in their rooms playing video games, watching television, reading, or doing their homework. They had begun teaching him tricks, and Dawn had been successful with the jump through the hula-hoop stunt.

She also taught him to “sing.”

Dawn said she was inspired by the fire truck sirens that we often heard – our home being situated a couple of blocks from the local fire station. One day she heard a slight howl coming from Chico as the fire truck went through the neighborhood. Out of curiosity, she did a little research to discover how she might be able to get Chico to do it after her cue. What she found was it was easy to get a dog to howl if the correct pitch was created, so she decided to discover if there was something in the house that might also be appropriate to elicit that howling response. 

She experimented with several different musical instruments but quickly discovered that the recorder and the harmonica worked best. After she discovered it was easy to bring out a little howl from Chico with a musical instrument, she began to provide a verbal cue before playing. She eventually shaped the howling to happen after she would tell him to sing. Imagine the cuteness when my teenage daughter stated the command sing, and her little white puppy dog began howling along with her as she sang her favorite tune.

One day she called me into her room, and to my delight she sang a song, working in the recorder during a musical interlude while Chico “sang” along. It was priceless, and it got me to thinking. Between Hardy and Chico, we had quite a talented pair of entertaining dogs. My original idea to share Hardy with others had now grown into an idea to share both dogs in a therapeutic way. I imagined us going to hospitals and entertaining people who needed a positive lift in their day. I had heard about these types of animals, and I wondered if our dogs would be right for this type of work.  

Healthy Animals Make Healthier Food

I've been perusing over mass media information about how to become more conscious about my food purchases. I was particularly interested the humane treatment of animals and pesticide free food. Not that I'm any expert. I simply wanted to become better informed. At this point I've watched a couple of movies, and I've read several articles pertaining to the subject, but I believe what I've learned is worth a post.

Interestingly, I've noticed that a lot of the disgusting abuse videos I found date back to early 2000 and before. In an attempt to keep things current, this post will provide my take from information I acquired that was published in 2011 or greater. I think it's also important to stress that this post will also expire in time. The humane treatment of animals for use as our food is not a topic that has a lot of positive information, but at the same time positive changes are here right now.

The bottom line was surprising. Here are my findings from WORST to BEST, in terms of third party auditing and food labels. I believe we should continue to check ingredients and food labels because all third parties are not created equally.

Surprise! The printed words such as Cruelty Free, Cage Free, Environmentally Friendly, Nature's Friend, No Chemicals, Vegetarian Fed are all a marketing strategy called "green washing." They mean absolutely nothing - the producing party says it's so, and puts the words on the packaging. There is no third party auditing company that supports these claims.

The companies that are basically promoting products for them to be able to display a label, but don't require anything substantial to get the label are: United Egg Producers Certified and American Humane Certified.

The third party groups that allow their labels on the packaging and seem legit from my perspective in order of priority are...

1. Animal Welfare Approved
2. Global Animal Partnership.
3. USDA Organic
4. Certified Humane Raised/Handled