As psychologists, Husband and I are familiar with behavior modification. We are both pretty adept at changing the behaviors of others. It dawned on me yesterday, however, that we have met our match in our Cesky Terrier and the finesse with which he has modified our behaviors and what a creature of habit he is.
Every morning, Kyrill wakes up when Husband’s alarm goes off. He then jumps on me to make sure I know that the alarm went off, and then he waits on the bed in great anticipation for Husband to get dressed and take him for his morning stroll. I stay in bed. When they return, he jumps back into bed with me and won’t get out of bed until I get up. He barks at me if I stay in bed too long and he wants his breakfast. After our breakfast, Husband and I sit in the livingroom and read aloud some short devotionals and drink our coffee. That is the cue for Kyrill to have vicious and vigorous tugs with his Wubbas. He accompanies me anytime I go into the bathroom, and brings the same pink ball with him every time. He tosses it at my feet and expects me to try to grab it no matter what I am doing. I am never fast enough to grab it. Certain whines mean different things. One means he wants a share of the ice in Husband’s glass. Another means he has lost his pink ball, and to please help him find it. Whenever I step out of the bathroom in the morning, ready for the day, I get a glance from him, while he waits in anticipation for me to say “Go outside”, after which he runs to the back door to be let outside.
We go along with all of these and countless other expectations that our dog seems to have for us. Whenever I sit on the sofa he insists he has to sit in my lap. He expects to do the pre-rinse on our ice cream bowls and sits at our feet while we eat. He whines if he thinks we take too long to finish. We don’t cater to his expectation that all socks are his to steal and chew up, however.
Who modifies your behavior? How have animals changed the way you do things and live your life?
I got a lot of work done on my shop wall. It’s basically all framed up. I need a few more boards and a lot of finishing bits, but it’s getting there. I’ve purchased insulation to install myself, the LP tank has been installed, waiting on the heater and the big garage door to be installed, and the steel siding has been ordered. Going for gray on this wall. Might make it before winter yet.
I sure do appreciate my friend at Red’s Electric letting me use his lift. This would have all been much MUCH harder without.
I sure have been dropping things and knocking things over with working on this. Good thing I’m working alone; I wouldn’t want to be around me the way it’s been going. And there’s barely room for me in the lift. Cause you know, I need all the tools.
Saturday will be adoption day for Luna. And back in 2007, it was about the same time of year we acquired Allie.
Last weekend I burned a brush pile. I need to dig the metal out of it and then I’ll have the ash pile buried after that.
It was time for a new ‘everyday-in-town’ hat. Not so dirty to be a farm hat, and cleaner than the farming hat, but dirtier than my ‘going-to-church’ hat. This is a hat I got for free at the theater conference USITT. It’s a seating company that I won’t be able to afford anyway.
I lost half the ducks last week. Friday afternoon I counted 22 ducks. Saturday morning I saw something white laying down by the barn. It was a dead duck. And there was another. And another. I picked up 6 carcasses. Four outside and two in their pen. And we have 11 ducks remaining. We’re pretty sure it was a weasel as there was a bite mark on the back of their heads. I have found some piles of feathers out in the fields. The dogs never reacted, and I never heard a fuss, so I’m not sure what happen. But it’s very discouraging.
The mallard ducks have discovered they can fly. And if you think about it, how would you know you COULD fly, if no one told you or showed you? You’d have to figure it out by accident. Maybe instinct, but again, no examples… so… what will they do?
I often listen to a 1940’s station and one of the things I enjoy are the songs you don’t hear anywhere else. I heard Hogie Carmichael singing ‘Huggin’ and Chalkin’. It’s considered a novelty song.
“I gotta gal who’s mighty sweet
With blue eyes and tiny feet
Her name is Rosabelle Magee
And she tips the scale at three o three
Oh gee, but ain’t it grand to have a girl so big and fat that when you go to hug her
You don’t know where you’re at
You have to take a piece of chalk in your hand
And hug a way and chalk a mark to see where you began”
….
….
One day I was a huggin’ and a chalkin’ and a beggin’ her to be my bride
When I met another fella with some chalk in his hand
We always had dogs when I was growing up. The main two that I remember were Princess the Wonder Dog and Irish Colleen but there were a few others when I was quite young and then my moms golden retrievers about the time I went off to college.
It was much more casual having a dog back then. No special bowls, just some dry kibble a couple of times a day. No dog beds in multiple rooms of the house. No walking dogs; when it was time for their business, you opened the door and let them out (fence or not fence). No brush of teeth. No flea and tick treatment, no heartworm pills. No crates even.
It’s a whole `nother world now. At our house, Guinevere is technically YA’s dog, so we pretty much play by her rules. So yes, we have a crate, fenced yard, multiple leashes, all the vet treatments, teeth brushing, regular baths and nail clippings. And beds (at least 3 of them). Guinevere gets dry dog food mixed with a large spoonful of wet food twice a day. Several kinds of dog treats. Water upstairs and down. A massive number of toys. Clothes and hats (which she detests).
But the funniest (at least to me) is pet music when we leave the house. YA has decided that just chilling in her crate when we are both out of the house is stressful for Guinevere if she doesn’t have music in the background. Since the crate is in the breakfast room, before we leave the house, YA calls out “Alexa, play classical for pets”. Apparently we are not alone in this because every three or four times, Alexa asks if we want to subscribe to the Music for Pets channel/playlist and pay good money for it. When we decline, then Alexa goes ahead with assorted classical music for pets. Personally I wouldn’t say that Guinevere likes or dislikes the classical – doesn’t seem to make her more relaxed – I think she’s already calm in her kennel. And since she is YA’s dog, I play along.
Every now and then if I’m leaving after YA and know I’m getting home before she does, I ask Alexa to play salsa music, or Peter Mayer or Enya – whatever comes into my head as I’m leaving. Guinevere does not appear to be traumatized by this.
I try to imagine going back in time to my childhood and then having somebody from the present tell me how spoiled my dog is these days, including having to have music on when we leave the house. I’m sure I would have fallen down on the floor laughing.
What kinds of things do you like when you’re being pampered?
A couple of years ago, sometime in October, I decided it was time to bring my rosemary plant in. I was just kind of quickly grabbing plants – some would go down to the garage and a couple would stay in the house. I grabbed the rosemary plant and was stunned at what I saw. A fat, little tree frog snuggled up next to the stem of the rosemary plant!
It was cold! I was surprised to see him there, hunkered down next to the plant in the soil. He was about the color of the soil, very well camouflaged. He was already in a state of torpor. I knew a bit about the overwintering habits of tree frogs. I knew he needed to be in a wooded area, down beneath the thick leaf litter, maybe under a partially rotten log. I knew he needed to find that shelter himself and that he wouldn’t have time anymore, especially since he was already sleeping.
I considered my rosemary plant. I knew life would be just fine for me if I didn’t keep it. I knew his life depended on it. But how could I use it to make him a safe place for the winter?
I took the pot outside near my driveway. In the corner of the front wall of the house and the front steps there’s a terracotta sunny face and some prairie agates. This corner is sheltered and when the sun is out, it’s warm enough to melt ice even if the air temp is in the 20s. The corner also has an abundance of oak leaves.
I pulled all the leaves and debris out of the corner, set the rosemary plant in the corner, and gently buried it with leaves. Then I placed another empty terracotta pot upside down over the top of all the leaves. The frog was still in the rosemary plant when I buried him, sleeping soundly. I placed the terracotta sun face in front of it to hold it all in place. He had air to breathe through the loose leaves, even though he would be breathing very infrequently. He was covered and had plenty of shelter. He would freeze almost completely in the winter and thaw out again in the spring.
I asked my friend TeeJay if he thought the frog would make it. I also wanted to name it. TeeJay suggested “Herb” since it clearly loved the rosemary plant. He said he had no idea if it would make it or not, but the shelter I’d made might work.
I thought about Herb all winter. I wondered if the shelter would protect him. It got awfully cold and we had a lot of snow. Sometime in April I took the shelter apart and looked in my dead rosemary plant. Herb was gone. He’d gotten out on his own.
Disclaimer: I don’t know how to sex frogs. I have no idea if Herb is female or male. And the frog I saw sunning himself for several hours on my deck rail today may or may not be Herb. It might be one of Herb’s kids! There are lots of tree frogs here. I hear them calling a lot. I haven’t seen one since Herb left though. It was very nice to see Herb today! I know how silly it is but I thought maybe he was going to get too hot so I set him in my herb and flower garden. He can choose which plant he wants. For now, he’ll be catching lots of mosquitoes and flies. He’ll be getting fat for winter. I’m happy to have him here.
She is afraid of little dogs, big dogs, medium dogs, the vacuum cleaner, the Roomba, the lawnmower, the hairdryer, paper bags, squirt bottles, the dog gate, noises close to her, when you wave your arms around, outsiders, things touching her without warning (pillow falling on her, towel slipping off a hook, toy tossed at her when she’s not looking).
But there are two things that Guinevere is NOT afraid of. Thunderstorms and fireworks. Unbelievable. YA and I used to do a few fireworks out on the front sidewalk but we quit because my last Irish Setter, Rhiannon was afraid. I suppose we could get a few things now that Rhiannon is no longer with us, but considering how many other dogs get scared, it doesn’t seem worth it.
So we’ll watch fireworks on tv and we’ll hear fireworks from the surrounding communities, with Guinevere snoozing at the end of my bed!
Doing anything fun today? Any fireworks on the schedule?
Husband and I decided that our Cesky Terrier’s political leanings would be Socialist. He feels best as part of a pack. He thinks we need to share our food, our space, our time, with him and each other.
Our Welsh Terriers would definitely have voted Libertarian. They disliked regulations and any rule they considered too restrictive. They wanted to be left to their own devices, running free.
Our cats would have had varying political leanings but all would have gleefully participated in dirty tricks against their opponents. Our son’s cat would be in favor of an absolute monarchy with herself as the Queen.
Where have your pets been on the political spectrum?
Normally when Guinevere and I are out walking, we wait until we are at a corner to cross the street. A few days ago though, we crossed Lyndale in front of our neighbors’ houses, two doors down. As we were just about across the street, I noticed a whole slew of washers on the street in front of their driveway.
As you can see from the photo, they are all different sizes and a few of them even have different finishes. I was tempted to stop and pick up a bunch of them. You can always use a washer – I had to buy one at the hardware store just a couple of weeks back. But with the traffic and the dog on the leash I decided to take a pass on them. Maybe the next time I need a washer, I’ll check to see if any of these are still lying about!
Any thoughts on how all these washers ended up on the street?
I’ve been in cookie production mode for a couple of days.
A dear friend of mine lost her husband in January; it was expected but still quite sad. Al loved my sugar cookies. For the last couple of years while he was in his decline, I made cookies for him every few weeks so that he could have cookies but my friend wouldn’t have to bake. I made different kinds but the frosted sugar were always his favorites. So for his Celebration of Life I am making them in his memory.
At the same time I am doing my spring bonnet sugar cookies for a shower this weekend as well. My oh my – everything always falls at the same time.
I figured I’d be safe with six batches of the dough. I made that, two batches at a time, on Wednesday. I laid everything out ahead of time so I could whip through – only took me about 25 minutes. The dough does need to chill for a while; that’s why I made it on Wednesday.
Then yesterday morning I rolled out all the dough, cut all the cookies and baked them. 206 fluted squares, 16 large bonnet bases, 16 bonnet cops and 20 llama/alpaca shapes (new cookie cutters that I just got a couple of weeks back). Took about 4 hours from set up to clean up. No burned batches and no dog sneaking cookies off the counter, although I did have to keep a close eye on YA every time she wandered into the kitchen.
This morning, while you are reading this, I’m doing the icing and sprinkles. All of Al’s cookies will have white icing but I’ll use a variety of sprinkles (I have plenty!). I’ll be setting up in the living room on the card table so I can sit and watch tv while I work. If I have time, I’ll do the llama/alpaca cookies and hopefully the bonnets. I used a flow icing on the bonnets so they’ll be last. If I run out of time I’ll finish the bonnets Saturday morning before the shower.
Lots of folks have asked me why I took the road trip by myself to see the eclipse in Indianapolis. Easy peasey – so I could do just what I wanted every single minute and not have to have anyone else’s agenda pushing up against mine. Same reason I go to Opening Day at the State Fair by myself.
So if that means I overestimate how many insane folks will want to park in the White River State Park ramp and go WAY too early to nab my spot, it’s OK. If I walk up and down the long row of food trucks (24 of them) twice before I decide what I want, it’s OK. And if I talk to strangers, it’s OK (this is something in particular that drives YA crazy.)
Here are just a few of the interesting folks I met on eclipse day:
A guy from Kentucky with a very cute corgi. He was sitting on a bench, apparently waiting for his wife – he wasn’t sure where she can gone off to. They had decided just a couple of weeks before to make the trip; they had managed to find a room but it was about an hour out of the city. He was also sporting an eclipse jacket and baseball cap. Like me, he got his online.
David was one of the first food truck owners to get his truck in place; he wanted a really good view of the river on each side of the bridge from his spot. He’s been running his food truck (assorted health food kinds of items including a vegetarian walking taco) for 20 years but he’s thinking about quitting because he want to focus more on his music and getting it published.
Two gals assembling a University of Indiana tent – turns out that the university has a new “global and local event planning” program and part of the semester was putting together the event in the park. When I told them I was a retired planner, we commiserated for a bit and laughed at what non-planners think is involved. Then one of the gals said “we’re not supposed to give this out until later, but I like you…” and gave me a cake pop with white and red icing (U of Indy colors). It was yummy.
Three cops on bikes. I’ve never seen police on bikes before and they were willing to take a few minutes to talk to me. The officers on bikes program has been around for almost 20 years now and has been called an unqualified success. The bikers patrol the downtown area (which includes White River Park) as well as a couple of suburbs that ring the downtown. The officers in the program like it a lot; they say they can get around more easily that in a car and have been able to establish better relations with the community. As the pedaled off, they all three went down a fairly long set of stairs – without a wobble!
Of course, I talked to many more people, especially folks with dogs. Since I parked early and set out my chair about six hours ahead of time, I had a lot of leisure to connect with others. Eclipse apparel was also a good discussion point and because of matching t-shirts I met a couple (their t-shirts matched mine) who had been in the same parking lot as me in St. Joseph, Missouri for the 2017 eclipse. Amazing how you can connect just by talking to people!
Do you talk to strangers when you’re out and about? Any favorite topics?
It’s been another crazy busy week and all the farmers have been pushing hard planting corn in the neighborhood, trying to stay ahead of the weather. Not me, but everybody else. I have finished planting oats and I picked up corn seed. Considering last week I hadn’t even gotten out in the fields yet, things picked up fast and went pretty well.
I got the old tractor, the 630 running. That’s the one I rebuilt the carburetor on last fall, and while it’s not perfect yet, it does run, and I used it to re-arrange machinery to get the grain drill out.
I started planting with 48, 50lb bags of oats
I can tell I’m getting older as my fingers are getting stiffer as I lift them up to dump in the drill.
Meyer Seeds, where I’ve been getting seed for years, and where my dad even got seed, didn’t have oat seed this year, so they got it from another local place. There are not many places selling seed oats around here. The Albert Lea Seed House is a good source, but they’re an hour away from me and much more expensive that Meyers. Meyers have done such a good job cleaning seed over the years, on the rare occasion they don’t have any, other seed is dirty and dusty, and I even found a shriveled up, desiccated mouse carcass in a bag this year. I mean, what the heck?? Do better other people.
I had planned to finish planting oats late Wednesday night, and wouldn’t you know I ran out of seed with about half an hour left at 9:30 PM. Every year I tell myself, “order extra seed”. It’s not a problem to return it and it’s better to have extra than to run out with half an hour left, and I don’t know, next year comes and I forget. Thursday morning I picked up 8 more bags of oat seed, and got the corn seed, too.
I use the “Boating” app to track myself in the fields. I helps to find that corner I need to get back too, especially at night.
Everything in yellow is what I planted on Wednesday. I covered 12.9 miles, averaging 4.5 mph, and was out just over 4 hours. The time also includes stops and refilling.
The closer photo show every pass. Compare that to the actual tracks in the field.
It has been fun to be back in the tractors again. My brother usually helps do fieldwork, but he’s on vacation this year. My young helper is still in school, and the other helper has become gainfully employed. I don’t mind doing it myself, it just takes a little longer. My left arm gets tired because I run all the controls with my right arm, so the left arm is constantly steering. Building up my endurance I guess. I have acquired a second tractor buddy.
We don’t all fit into the cab so well.
Luna doesn’t look happy to be left home and she doesn’t look happy to be in the tractor. I don’t know what she wants. Bailey just lays on the floor, rests her head on the door, and sleeps. Luna moves back-and-forth and is in the way of either the clutch or the brake. And if I stop in the field and we all get out, she barks and barks to get back in. I think it’s still anxiety about being left behind. I saw bald eagles, pheasants, turkey vultures, lots of deer, turkeys, and we’ve been hearing the sandhill cranes, I just haven’t seen them yet. Waiting on the first barn swallows. Should be a scout around any day now. They usually arrive about May 6.
Soil temperatures are in the 50s and GDU (Growing Degree Units) are at 177; 123 above normal at this point. The cereal rye that I planted as a cover crop last fall greened up but never got very tall. I had it sprayed this week to terminate it. It needed to be 12 inches high to get paid for planting it. However, because those fields are gonna be corn, having 12 inches of grass there was going to be a problem with residue, and I wanted it sprayed and terminated before it started to rain and I lost control of it. So it goes. It will still add organic matter to the soil.
Late next week I’ll start dealing with lighting for commencement on May 8th, so I’ll be busy with that for a few days. The experts says 100% of potential corn yield (in our area) comes from corn planted between April 22 and May 6th. I still got time!
Trail Baboon 