LIBRARY NIGHT, SNOW & GROWING UP BABY

Greg and I decided to start a routine:  LIBRARY NIGHT.  As we both fill our schedules well, we made it a recurring appointment in Outlook, only quarterly, but a nice break from the usual routine.  We set our first appointment for our engagement anniversary (a day that we celebrate), but the next wave of snow storm was arriving, so we postponed our very first Library Date Night.  There is plenty of snow, which began as freezing rain on Valentine’s Day, and the lows have been flirting with single digits – and will be for the foreseeable forecast.

We cruised the area where the library sets up books of interest, sometimes according to a theme, and I found a book on old Irish poetry.  In this book, I found what became the Molly Malone song.  One thing leading to another, I sent a note about this to my sister, remembering that she used to sing that when I was a kid.  It’s nice how the internet lets you easily communicate with people next door or anywhere else in the world.  (She’s still on her Peace Corps assignment.)  She didn’t seem to recognize the poem, so I found the song on Youtube and sent that link.  She said that when she was a kid (1940s), she heard and sang a lot of Scottish-Irish songs.  I was smitten and a bit jealous.  When I was a kid, a couple of decades later, I didn’t hear those.  She was familiar with more of our ancestral influence than I was.  (Our grandmother was Irish; she passed before I was born.)  I found another of my (newer) favorite Irish songs on Youtube, along with some traditional songs by the same band, so in advance of St. Pat’s Day, will share that here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fzRZuGEr04

The weather, with all of its recent persistence, has been much to Jade’s liking.  I’ve never met a Newf so enamored with the cold and snow!  But, it poses a problem for her.  As we are all capable of being children at heart, Jade gets pulled into her “childhood”.  She wants to play like a ruffian, only like her version of a ruffian, which is impressive but gentle.  Banner gets a little too serious and competitive about play.  Her idea of one-upmanship, as jealousy is often the case with the new kid on the block, was to spot Jade from across the yard and run like a bullet train, hitting her broadside.  (I think I heard you say “Ouch!”)  So, during the months, which seemed more like years at times, when Banner was growing into herself, and was a little too impressed with her increasing size, Jade would look around nervously for Banner every time she was outside.  She would hide behind the van door as soon as they got out of the van.  Eventually, with constant supervision when they were out together, which was sometimes not fast enough, Banner began to adjust and treat Jade with more respect.  Then came the cold weather season again.  Banner hasn’t been as driven to collision this winter, but has occasionally “spun out of control on the ice” (abandoned self-control).  Enough so that when Banner is loose outside, Jade starts to exit the cabin door, stops with the first half of her body on the middle step and her back feet still inside the cabin, looking for Banner, while we would like to close the door to that wonderful outside world.  When you’ve endured that kind of impact, it has a lasting effect, not only on your memory, but on your body.  This was like Banker when Parker was growing up, all over again.  Banker was a softie, like Jade, and Parker was determined to find a higher spot on the totem pole, however he could.  Parker grew up into a softie, too, and no one would have guessed what his early years were like.  Banner is a lot like Parker in personality.  She takes it up a notch in some ways, but is in other ways more judicious about her choices.  Parker ran straight into a tree one time in cat-chase-play; Banner ran into the Equalizer hitch on the back of the van.  Something about running at high speed sends horses and Newfs into a dream state, and dreaming with your eyes open is still a dangerous proposition when you are running as fast as you can.

Banner is still acclimating to the idea that the cats here have total freedom.  She loves to chase the cats, but doesn’t really want to catch one.  The teenager in her, though, wants to defy the corrections given by the cats, especially that fat black cat who thinks that she is Boss!  Jade is having her own struggles.  Since she doesn’t trust playing with Banner, Sylvia is her cat of choice for play.  Sylvia knows better than to respond to a play bow.  I think it will take a long time for Jade to rebuild trust with her favorite cat once the cold weather diminishes and she returns to a more mature state of mind.  (not that there is anything wrong with being young in mind or heart!)

The root of the competition issue is finding a place in the new “pack” (or pod) where you feel as important and comfortable as everybody else.  So, part of the steps required for adjustment are giving the newcomer ways to increase their self-confidence and self-esteem, without inadvertently encouraging the jealousy.  Walking them together is one good step, as is teaching them important words for communication and training.

Even though Banner has been with us for 16 months, her anxiety can still escalate when she is left inside by herself.  When we leave the house, Jade views it as a nice opportunity to enjoy a nap on the sofa. ; )  Banner, like most young Newfs, has some anxiety about this, and there are scratches through the finish on the new door trim at our front door to attest.  After we moved from the house to the cabin, I took steps to let her adjust to being left on her own in a new environment, leaving Jade in the cabin with her at first.  Despite any competition, the adult Newf often becomes the one the newcomer leans on to “learn the ropes” and settle into the new arrangment.  Limiting their free area can help, but even though the cabin is small, I learned this was still necessary.  They can increase their own state of anxiety when they have too much area, where they can run back and forth.  I found that keeping Banner in the bedroom when she was left inside by herself, with the curtain lowered and the baby gate across the bedroom door, worked better to keep her calm.  This is where she usually sleeps, and she is accustomed to the gate being up during the night, as a normal part of bedtime.

Part of the adjustment is the guided learning that comes with time and experience, although their antics can lead you wonder at times whether they have scrambled eggs for brains at this age.  <g>  Each Newf, as it is new to the home, has to find his or her place in well-developed existing relationships.  The incremental steps of learning will eventually help.  They are all different, and those active, creative minds will come up with “solutions” that you don’t always anticipate.

Now I have a picture puzzle.  Tell me, do you see a hellion in these images, or just a little angel?

Banner_2014

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WATER: THE MOST ESSENTIAL OF ALL NATURAL RESOURCES

I’m an environmentalist at heart, by nurture and training, if not by genetics.  These roots run very deep.  It has nothing to do with fad, popular science or politics.  Rather, it is a core appreciation for the beauty, the opportunity and the benefits possible through a world that is well cared-for.  We are all stewards.

So, one of the most important natural resources in this world, as it was created, is water.  I think my Newfs would agree.  There are still some sources of natural water that have an impeccable purity, a form of beauty that is unmatched by our efforts to fabricate or mimic beauty through art.  (My apologies to those who would rather study an oil painting.)

This morning, Greg forwarded a line from a Facebook post, that, as I see it, should surge to viral level at warp speed:

“Water is the most essential element of life, because without water, you can’t make coffee.”

Coffee:  the second most important natural resource on our planet!  <g>  And I thought no one knew me better than my Newfs!

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WHILE VISIONS OF SUGARPLUMS

Sending Holiday Greetings from The Bigfoot Club, and wishes that 2015 will bring happiness and well-being, love, joy and fulfillment to all.

Baby Banner

Baby Banner

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GPS: THE ULTIMATE REVENGE AND THE SPORT OF ADVENTURE

Written 5/11/2010

Packing and leaving the National always takes more time with less enthusiasm than packing and arriving.  That’s a given.

Greg and I left on Sunday morning.  Well, it was 4 minutes until noon by Eastern time.  The dogs were very happy, almost sparkling with enthusiasm, probably in part due to the cold weather that arrived on Friday.  It had been a very good week, even though we were spectators only for this trip.  I was coming home with a fair amount of Newf goodies & gifts.  (And an awesome copy of the Puppy & Panda print by Claire Carr!!!)  All we had to do was get everything back into its former storage areas and we were off.

Coffee drinkers, make a note:  There is a Starbuck’s in Birch Run.  There is a good coffee shop in Frankenmuth too.

The roads were good leaving Michigan, and this time, we skirted Lake Michigan and turned south on 57 through Illinois.  Suddenly, the roads were disastrous!  Along for the ride was Terk, a purple gorilla with a banana and a New Yorker attitude.  (We were supposed to meet Mary, who gifted us with this outspoken toy containig  motion sensor,  but she had to leave before we caught up with her.)  Terk was in the front of the van between the driver and passenger seats, along with some travel items and the dogs were in the back, sleeping peacefully.  The potholes were more like small meteor craters, and the dogs slept through those.  Terk, however, began to say whatever was on his mind every time we hit a bump (or, black hole):  “Hellooo!!”  “Ow!”  “Hey!”  “Yo, what’s up!?”  “Whoo-whoo-whoo!!”  “Hey, kid!  Remember me?”  “Come on!”

The drive through Illinois was L-O-N-G, about 350 miles of it.  We needed to make a detour into the Bootheel, which requires finding a bridge over the Mississippi.  The Mississippi isn’t like other creeks, where the county builds a bridge for every road.  There was a ferry at Tiptonville at one time, but otherwise, there are specific points of access.  Greg had wanted to get a GPS, but I have been a hold-out.  I don’t want to have to listen to a computer telling me which direction to turn and when, or whether I missed my exit.  I don’t want to lose my confidence in navigating with a map.  Maps work fine as long as there are road signs (well, that leaves out Boston and other part of Massachusetts, as well as Oklahoma).  I do like Microsoft Streets & Trips for planning travel, and it has pretty much the same information as a GPS has.  That is, if it’s wrong, why would you expect a GPS to be any better?  (And I have run into at least one error.)

Microsoft Streets and Trips had established our route by crossing from 57 to Cape Girardeau through some small backroads.  If you’ve ever been between the Mississippi levees and the river, you know what I mean by “backroads.”  At 8 p.m., it was too dark to read road signs, too.  We took our first exit according to the projected route and tried to find Cypress Street.  After driving a little further than the map indicated, we tried to find a place to turn around with a one-ton van and a 25’ (28’ of) trailer.  The best possibility in that vicinity was a drive that was almost wide enough leading into a machine shop that was closed.  After a good 20 minutes, we were turned around and back on our path.  After passing Cross St. a second time, I realized that Cypress was the road that we were on, not the road that we were looking for.  We continued carefully, with about 6 more road turns ahead, and as we took a long narrow blacktop road into the darkness and crossed a low-water bridge, a car coming toward us slowed to a stop.  Misgivings about stopping in this deserted darkness surged in my thoughts.  The guy rolled his window down and said, “I’m lost.  My GPS says that I need to go down this road.  Do you guys know where 57 is?”  I smiled all the rest of the night.  Well, he felt lost, but his GPS did have him on the right road, even though it looked very doubtful.

The rest of the trip home was pleasant, and we found a new BBQ restaurant just across Current River called The Stray Dog.  Perfect!  Really cute dog stuff inside too, mostly Lab.  In the ladies restroom, there was a print of a naked little boy, clothes piled on the bank, sitting on a board over a lake with his black Lab sitting close beside him, the two of them looking over the lake after a skinny dip.  Lunch was very good, but if you stop there, be sure to tell them that the lady who spilled her tea told you to go there.

Dogs were just as excited to be home as they were to be in Michigan.  Critical things were unpacked, dogs fed & humans went to bed.

Lovely trip, lovely Newfs, lovely to see so many once-a-year Newf friends!

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