Happy New Year!

May 2011 bring you happiness...

...and not more than you can chew!

FLD Gus and I wish everyone

a very happy and healthy New Year.  

(Sorry we missed a couple days of posting...we were "off the grid" with no internet access in beautiful northern Michigan.)

Cabin Strategies to Achieve "A Tired Puppy is a Good Puppy."

We unload the van and drop the boat trailer in the cabin drive.  First things first--we need to tire out the puppy.

"Let's take the dogs over to Thompson's Landing on the Au Sable," Andy suggests.

Perfect.  It's only a few miles away, the 87 steps down to the river will be excellent practice for FLD Gus, it's warm enough for Gypsy to go swimming after a stick (her favorite thing), and it might be fun to see what Gus does when Gypsy goes bounding into the water.

Gypsy and Gus are raring to go after spending the morning in the van.  I'm surprised that Gus tackles the 87 wooden steps without missing a beat.  He is focused on the spattering of red and yellow leaves that litter the stairs; it doesn't take much encouragement from me to get him to plop his chubby legs from step to step.

"Bark!"  Gypsy is already at the river bank demanding a thrown stick.  I clip my 15 foot lead onto Gus's collar and unclip his short leash.  "I'm coming," Andy says.  I look back up the staircase and see that he is trudging down with two large sticks.  "I've got a backup stick this time."  Gypsy is notorious for destroying sticks in her enthsiasm.

Andy throws one of the sticks into the middle of the wide Au Sable.  Gypsy boing-boing-boings into the water until she can't touch the bottom without going under; then kicks into her wake-producing retrieve swim, her tail wagging above the surface like a flag.

FLD Gus back on shore.

FLD Gus bounces after her.  Suddenly he senses something different underfoot.  He bounces back to dry land in wonder.  "What was that?!"  Before he can figure out what happened, Gypsy is back to shore for another throw.  Gus chases, but Gypsy can't be bothered.  Swimming for sticks is important business!

"Bark!"  Andy throws.  Gypsy boings.  Gus bounces to the river's edge and stops, content to watch from dry land.



FLD Gus, watching Gypsy from the safety of shore.



After several throws, Gypsy doesn't drop the stick at Andy's feet--she hangs in the shallows, biting frantically at the stick, a sure sign she is tiring.  An nine years old she finally knows when to quit.

"Let's hike down the trail a bit so she can dry off," Andy says.  Back up the 87 steps!  Andy and Gypsy take off ahead.  I gather up the long lead and ask Gus to SIT at the bottom.  Gus sits on command at home, but here there are too many distractions.  I help him.  Then  I lift him onto the first step because it is too high; I wonder how he'll manage the rest of the open steps.  No problem!  Gus eagerly hops up step to step, his baby legs not long enough to take them any other way.

Take it easy, Gus, we've got a long way to go!  I laugh.  With about 20 steps to go, Gus slows, but makes it the rest of the way on his own.



Gypsy, drying in the field.



When we hit the trail, I let Gus run the length of the long lead.  He tries to keep up with Gypsy, but soon he's waddling in a nice heel at my left side.

FLD Gus, in the field, trying to find Gypsy.



Mission accomplished--a tired puppy!

FLD Gus Heads to the North Country

Andy says, "It was brilliant to put his bed there."  We are on our way north to the cabin, FLD Gus's first foray into the Huron National Forest.

I peek down at my feet.  Gus has finally settled.  He is snoozing on his back in his $5.99 CVS pet bed, his precious Buddha-belly exposed to the world.  Looks like we have another traveler, I answer.  Rosie and Mike, our first two Future Leader Dogs, behaved wonderfully in the van.  And Gypsy still does, of course!

Leader Dogs for the Blind asks us to train our Future Leader Dog puppies to sit on the passenger side floor of our vhicles.  An eight-week-old puppy can be a handful, redirecting his ever-inquisitive attention away from under-the-seat wiring, clamps, and who-knows-what-else under the dash (have you ever looked under there?).  Here Gus, chew this, I said a gazillion times before we merged onto I-75 North, sticking a puppy Nylabone into his land-shark mouth while hoping to keep my fingers clear.

Every blood-clot-prevention rest-stop for Andy is an opportunity to "park" Gus and tire him out by running around after Gypsy.  By the time we survive the Zilwaukee Bridge crossing (learn more about the infamous 1982 mishap at this Michigan Highways website), FLD Gus is crapped out.

Time for me to relax and enjoy the drive.

FLD Gus, asleep at my feet in the van.

Photos Along Eagle Run Trail

We've taken FLD Mike to the cabin, his last trip to northern Michigan before he returns to Leader Dogs for the Blind on Monday. 

After a long hike on the Eagle Run Trails with spectacular views of the Au Sable River, it is a quiet evening in the cabin.

The Eagle Run Trail...

...along the Au Sable, west of Oscoda.

Tall pines.

Inch worm, measuring!

 

 

Purple flower, not yet open.

Wild flower.

Exploded milkpod.

Some kind of blue berries.

Perfect place for a picnic.

Gypsy lost her stick!

"Oh, woe is me!"

A very tired FLD Mike tonight in the cabin.

Poetry: Haiku Scatology

*Warning, the following content might be best viewed after eating, due to its graphic nature.

black scat

late summer berries

fur-lined pile on the paved road

warn "fudgies go home"

Unidentified scat found on the paved road in front of the cabin, the day after Gypsy's night growling!

*For more information about wild animal scat, check out this website:  http://www.bear-tracker.com/animalscat.html (not for the squeamish).  

Or, go to out this website developed by the University of Michigan (and others),  for kids of all ages:  http://www.biokids.umich.edu/guides/tracks_and_sign/leavebehind/scat/.

STAIRS!

Iargo Springs.  A 200 foot drop to water's edge via 300 wooden steps.  At the bottom is 1500 feet of boardwalk (and more steps!) along the forest floor, leading to views of natural springs, wild-flowers, and the Au Sable River.

Mystical.

Andy and I scaled these stairs when we stopped on our bike ride from the cabin to the Lumberman's Monument on Friday. (I also tackled the 260 steps down to the river at the Monument.  Andy declined.) 

I brought FLD Mike to Iargo on Saturday to practice stairs--well over 35 landings to pause, SIT, and HEEL.

FLD Mike, considering the descent.

The night's rain left the woods dripping in humidity.  Fog hovered above the icy waters of the spring.  As I crouched to take a picture of mushrooms on a log resting in the stream, chill licked my face.  My glasses fogged.

FLD Mike waiting patiently while I play with my camera.

Corn-lily.

Time to go.  Back.  UP.

Here's a short video of FLD Mike and me making our way...

Night Noises in Northern Woods

Quiet has descended. 

Well, as quiet as the northern woods can be in late August.  Crickets chirping, frogs bellowing, a myriad of I-don't-know-what-kind of insects singing.

But the cicadas were silent (as kids we called them "katy-dids").  They've been reverberating all summer.  Weather prediction by "patti" when the katy-dids drone:  It's going to be hot tomorrow.  I don't miss the buzzing of their tymbals high in the trees.  Temps tonight are already below 60.  It is NOT going to be hot tomrrow.

Good thing.  There is no air-conditioning here in the cabin.

I'm reading Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird snuggled under the comforter next to Andy, who is already alseep.

Just as Scout Finch, swallowed by her Halloween ham costume, waddles toward home in the dark with her brother Jem (and about to be assaulted by Bob Ewell), Gyspy BARKS.  And throats a low growl.

I almost drop the book.

Gypsy, I whisper.  She growls again.

The outside chorus abruptly stops.  I hear FLD Mike shift in his crate.  I hold my breath, but I can't hear anything else.

Breathe.

Gypsy paces, now clicky-clacking her nails on the wood floor, now silent as she steps onto a rug.  She rumbles.  The cricket and bug brigade take up the refrain.

Eventually Gypsy settles.  Andy never stirs.  I guess it's nothing, but the book can wait until tomorrow.  As I turn off the bedside light, I remember my brother's email from last week.  The Chain Lake homeowner's association issued a bear warning--seems a black bear has been making off with some bird feeders.  I'm glad there are no feeders here.

In the morning, there is no evidence of a bear visit.  (And I won't spoil the end of Harper Lee's book if by some incredible chance you haven't read it or seen the movie...)

Fun at the Cabin

Here is a picture of a Monarch butterfly, like the ones that followed me and the dogs yesterday on our walk.  This one was resting on the side of the road as we walked by.

Andy and I took FLD Mike and Gypsy for a couple walks today.  We  checked out Thompson's Landing along the Au Sable River. 

Wow--87 steps down to the river.  And 87 steps back up!  Good stair practice for FLD Mike.

Andy and Gypsy are almost to the top.

Later, we took a short walk by the cabin.  And played.

FLD Mike sitting nicely at water's edge.

Andy finds Gypsy a stick.  Look who else is interested!

I think FLD Mike is happy to be up north with us!  (We are too.)

The Lease is Almost Up

Today I took FLD Mike and Gypsy on a dirt-road walk around Chain Lake in upper Michigan.  Andy was off to Gaylord for a meeting.

Both dogs were anxious to go.  After a long drive to get up here after puppy-class last night, and waiting around the cabin all morning for the technician from Century Link to connect our Internet access (so Andy can work from here and I won't have to drive to Alcona Park to make my blog posts), the three of us were ready for some physical activity.

Our afternoon excursion was just less than three miles.  The shaded road took us close by a swimming beach filled with screaming kids.  Gypsy wanted to get into the water too, which got Mike excited, but we passed on.  I was proud of FLD Mike.  He showed interest, nosing the air toward the youngsters, yet did not pull me off my feet to get to them.

Admittingly, we did a fair share of backwards walking for the first mile or so, but FLD Mike settled in to resist a chasing Boston Terrier loose from its owner (I was surprised how far back Mike's head could stretch), a flock of four wild turkeys strutting across the road in a dance-line, and several Monarch butterflies who seemed to take an interest in us.

Back at the cabin, after waiting his turn behind Gypsy for a long slurp of cool well-water, FLD Mike slid to the green-painted-wood floor with a huge sigh.

In less than one month, FLD Mike returns to Leader Dogs for the Blind.  September 13 will be a sad day, but we are hopeful that Mike is destined to "live an exceptional life" as someone else's eyes.

I am ready.

I feel like I've done my best to get him ready.  He isn't bothered by thunder, heavy traffic, or other loud noises; he tends to lie under foot, content to wait for me to get on the move; he settles in his crate at night or whenever we leave him alone in the house.  He's confident and relaxed in public, although he does get worked up when we approach another dog.  Something for me to work on, I suppose, during the next few weeks.

Mostly, these days, it seems we are both just biding time.

I overheard a puppy-raiser describe her Future Leader Dog as  "leased" when asked the inevitable question "Isn't it hard to give them up?"  That's it exactly!  We turn them in on their first birthday when the lease is up.  And exchange them for a "newer" model.

After we return FLD Mike back to Leader Dogs for the Blind, Andy and I are taking a trip to the U.P.'s Porcupine Mountains.  I'll pick up a new "lease" puppy when we come home.

Vacation Rambles

I know, more boring vacation stories, just what you wanted!  Well, I can't help it.  There were so many fun things that happened.  So, you'll just have to suffer through my vacation "slide show" (with commentary)....and then I'll be done.

HARBINGER OF COMING PHASES

In the space of about three weeks, FLD Mike lost his puppy fur--I plucked it out in chunks and brushed out softball-sized fur-balls.

During our camping trip I tossed these clumps in a pile next to our tent, surprised that they didn't blow away.  

The third morning, as I knelt to take these pictures, a pair of fellow campers strolled by and gave me a curious look.  I'm not sure if they thought I was nuts to be on my elbows and knees taking a picture, or if they couldn't figure out what I was taking a picture of!  FLD Mike's cast-off coat mimicked the leftovers of a midnight-wild-animal-kill.  

Let them wonder.  But I am saddened.  FLD Mike is no longer puppy-fuzz soft--his fur is coarse and way too adult-like.  Too soon he will return to Leader Dogs for the Blind.

CAMPGROUND PUPPY PARADE

The Humane Society of Schoolcraft County's "Pet Parade" in downtown Manistique during "Folk Fest" was not the only puppy parade that week.  My nieces had their own parade through Indian Lake Campground.

Here is Sofia with Gypsy, Natalie with FLD Mike, and Elaina with cc'd Rosie (click here to read my continuing series "The Rosie Road").

JOY OF SWIMMING

The dogs especially liked when the pup-parade brought them down to the lake for a swim.  I've witnessed no greater joy expressed than when my Gypsy-doodle is chasing a stick into the water.

FLD Mike (on the long green lead) in turn loved chasing Gypsy, while Rosie preferred to merely wade in the cool water.

FLD MIKE'S FIRST BOAT RIDE...HO, HUM
(Forewarning:  some people might consider one of the following pictures to be X-rated.)

Tubing:  Andy pulls the kids.

What's the big deal about a boat ride?

FLD Mike takes a nap...

...and has no shame!

DUALING BIRTHDAYS

Any excuse for cake!  We celebrated two birthdays. (Rosie didn't get cake--only a new Nylabone wrapped up with treats.)

Natalie turned nine.

Rosie turned two.

 

 

Ok, no one ventured a guess as to what I "did wrong" in yesterday's second video.  I'm not sure I want to say...well, alrighty then.  What I did "wrong" was to say "OK" to FLD Mike more than ONE TIME.  Remember, when giving a command, only say the command ONCE.  If your puppy doesn't respond, physically make him/her do the command.  Repeating the command will cause your puppy to not pay attention the next time a command is given.

A Working Dog, Even on Vacation, part 2

PET PARADE

Unbeknown to us, it was Folk Fest weekend in downtown Manistique during our annual camping trip last week.  Music, a street fair, food, the "Paper Chase" 5 or 10K footrace, and a "Pet Parade" (sponsored by the Humane Society of Schoolcraft County).

I couldn't roust my nieces to bring cc'd (career-changed) Rosie with us for the Pet Parade after dinner--they were too worn out from a busy day of swimming, tubing, and playing in camp.  So, Andy and I took Gypsy and FLD Mike and went to town.

Vendor booths, positioned along each curb of the blocked-off main drag of South Maple Street, flanked a straight row of picnic tables.  A music stage, ringed by bleachers, dominated the south end.  

The Pet Parade was like a scene right out of "Northern Exposure!"  The Humane Society of Schoolcraft County (HSSC) had a sign-up table behind the stage.  There was no cost to participate; we just had to fill out a form describing our pet.  "Rescued" pets wore a special bandana, which had to be returned afterwards.  Gypsy sure looked smart in hers!  (We got her from the Meet Your Best Friend at the Zoo in 2001.)

The HSSC worker directed us, with form in hand, to the end of a long line of all sizes and types of dogs, a stroller full of ferrets, and one horse.  

At the front of the line, a volunteer took each participant's form and walked the person and pet to the center of the intersection in front of the stage.  Here an announcer read the information on the form to the crowd.  The "parade" was a simple stroll around the circle of spectators for petting.

FLD Mike was interested, but remained calm while we waited our turn; so calm, in fact, that he assumed his normal position:  lying down!

 

As I handed my form to the volunteer, she said, "I already told the announcer to alert the crowd that no one is allowed to pet your puppy-in-training."  An educated town!  I loved it.  

Everyone clapped when FLD Mike and I walked leisurely by, and no one reached out to touch him.

As FLD Mike and I exited the HSSC "Pet Parade," I heard the announcer say, "And this is Andy, with Gypsy, a 'brown' dog who was rescued.  Gypsy helps patti raise puppies for Leader Dogs for the Blind."