It was THIS big!

I took a vacation.

An actual vacation.

Like get a critter sitter, get on a plane, and find myself several states away from home.

Strangely, though, I felt more at home than I do sometimes in my real home.

My big thrill this time around was going fishing. I've been wanting to go fishing for the last few trips to visit my friend "Portland" but it usually doesn't work out that way. Last time we managed to squeeze in a few hours of fishing on my last night in town - literally night, as in we didn't get started until almost 10:30 p.m. because of crazy work schedules. And I didn't have anything to show for it. My pitiful catch was a few puny bottom-feeders that necessitated the use of a needle-nose pliers to extract the hook so that you wouldn't get stung by their built-in defense mechanisms in their spiny fins.

This time was different. First of all, it was daylight hours. Secondly, it involved an actual boat. And thirdly, I have photographic proof of my more impressive catches. Portland unfortunately had to work, so her boyfriend "Jibstay" took me out as he had the day off. (BTW, I'm sensing a trend here. It's not the first time that Portland's significant other has taken me out because Portland had to work and her SO wanted to get out of the house. But that's a story for another day. At least she trusts me alone with her men.)

The day started slow, none of Jibstay's usual spots had much to offer. I even caught one of those lousy bottom feeders again.

And then, just when we were contemplating pulling up anchor and trying somewhere else, this redfish made the mistake of going after poor little bait perch on my line.

Thank goodness for cell phone cameras, because this fella was under the legal limit and got to swim another day. And yes, I had to be taught how to hold a fish, because those measly little bluegills and sunfish I caught as a kid are not exactly something you show off to the rest of the world.

That alone would have been enough to make my day, but no! When Portland finally got off of work it was time for round 2.

Jibstay knew of a spot where schools of fish would regularly come through about dusk. I wasn't sure what to expect since there were a few other boats already in the spot and not having much luck. Furthermore, it was a relatively high-traffic canal with the requisite holiday weekend idiots buzzing through and ignoring the no-wake courtesies that civil boaters observe. Just as another boat turned to come through the canal I started to reel in my line so it wouldn't get tangled in the passing motor. And at that moment, this drum took the stinky dead shrimp bait.

He put up a fight, and it must have been a good show because the boat that passed by us actually ran aground because the driver (captain? boater? I have no idea on the terms) was distracted by what was happening on our boat.

After properly sliming my shirt, this one was declared a keeper destined for the dinner plate. He was joined in the ice chest by a slightly smaller friend about an hour later.

There were a few more, certainly not worthy of capturing for digital eternity. Including a lousy bottom feeder. Somethings don't change.



Post Script: Drum are tasty, especially when cut into little pieces, battered, and fried.

Post-post Script: The only thing that would have made the day better was seeing that pontoon boat run aground. I was too busy fighting the drum.

Going Deaf

I'm about 5 weeks away from celebrating 12 years with my dog. And given that she was a young adult at the time I picked her up from the shelter (she was in heat at the time, and her underline was developed as if she had nursed a litter of puppies at some point), I'm estimating her age at somewhere around 14 years.

Looking good (regardless of age)!

We've had the usual slow downs expected with age. She's not as inclined to have a sudden burst of energy and sprint after a squirrel in the yard. She prefers to spend more and more time curled up on her pillow/cot/sofa. I've had to start giving her some anti-inflammatory drugs when we visit someone with a lot of steps in the house.

The biggest change has been her hearing. I started noticing it about a year ago. I would try to call her out of the pasture and got no response. Now, it wouldn't be uncommon for her to ignore me a bit to spend more time out there. But I would go out to correct her and bring her back, and she would turn around and look surprised like she wasn't expecting me to be there.

Our morning routine lets her explore the yard and do her business while I'm getting ready in the house, then come back inside for her breakfast. Usually I would find her laying on the back porch, and just the sound of one piece of kibble hitting the metal food bowl would be enough to get her to jump up and prance at the back door. Now I'll dump the whole measure of food in the bowl and slam a couple of doors before she looks my direction to see if something is going on. Once the back door opens she darts in as usual.

I mentioned it to the vet at the annual check-up. She found some wax build-up on my dog's eardrums and sent me home with an ear cleaning solution. I was aware of some wax issues from when I would clean the exterior parts of the ears, and there was a little bit present at that time. I diligently used it for a week, and at first it made things worse. I was having no response to clapping or other verbal stimuli unless practically next to my dog. Within a few days of stopping treatment her hearing was back - best I can figure is that the fluid compounded the issue but once it dried out things were back to normal.

However, within a month or two her hearing started to fail again. I did the cleaning solution for a few days but there was no change. I have walked out the back door and made it half-way to the barn before the dog starts from her sunny spot on the side of the house to see if I will spill any cat food or horse feed (it tastes better than pricy dog food apparently). I have come home from work, walked in the house, disarmed the security system, and made it almost into the living room before she sheepishly slinks up to meet me. In both situations, she acts like she is ashamed for having missed meeting me.

The most tell-tale sign those is her lack of response to certain voice cues. It used to be that phrases like "outside," or "car ride" would send her into a tizzy of excitement while "bath" usually resulted in a dampening of emotion. "Up" or anything like it was an invitation to leap onto the sofa for cuddle time. Now, no matter how inviting the tone, she won't get up on the sofa without a clear visual gesture. This morning she finished her breakfast and wandered into the living room where I was on the sofa with my laptop. She dutifully stood there wagging her tail. Normally she wants to go right outside, but with the cold front that came through last night I wasn't sure if she wanted to do that or curl up with me. I ran through a list of voice cues while keeping my hands obscured and voice and facial expressions the same. There was no difference in her ear position or wagging frequency as I asked about outside, see horses, car ride, go to vet, or bath time. When I got up off the sofa I figured it out quick - she made a bee-line to the back door and promptly plopped down on her cot on the porch.

I guess we have our answer.

Acclimation Difficulties

I got a new horse this week, if you can consider something 20-years-old to be new. He had been a teaching horse at the local university for the last 9 or so years, and the time had come for him to get a new career. Between my soft spot for old teaching horses and an open space in my pasture, I took him in.

Unfortunately, the steady old boy I knew is not who is in my barn at the moment. I wouldn't call it separation anxiety since he is not calling out for his old friends, but he certainly is not settling in at his new home. The mares are indifferent to his presence, so he spends his time on pasture frantically trotting in circles. He's also too nervous to eat; good thing he was a bit of a chunk when I brought him here on Monday.

Through this process I have learned that Prozac can be given to horses. Technically it's the generic form, but still, Prozac!  So far it has translated to an hour of peaceful grazing before he wants back in the barn. And he is actually eating hay finally when he is in the stall.

The mares on the other hand are not too happy about being cooped up in the barn when there is plenty of green grass to graze. Luckily they are adapting, and I've been rotating their pony-sitting duties.

On the other hand, I am reminded what a pain it is to clean three stalls.

"Eats like a bird"

or "Eating me out of house and home." Either title would work for this post.

I have a total of 7 bird feeders up right now:

sunflower, 6 ports
wild bird mix, 10 ports
safflower, 4 ports
sunflower & wild bird mix globe-type, 4 ports
suet feeder
mealworm tray
hummingbird feeder

Hummingbird feeder aside, the other 6 are receiving non-stop traffic from the seed- and insect-eaters. I thought it was bad this winter when the finches would drain their tube of finch blend in under 24 hours and the finch feeder would go just as fast. My evening routine would be to bring up the horses for dinner, feed the cats, fill the feeders, turn the horses back out. Luckily I hung the feeders close enough to the barn that I could find them in the dark.

Now there is no rhyme or reason to the rate which the ungrateful leaches drain their feeders. Sometimes they sit barely pick-ed at for a day or two, and then the whole thing will be gone in 12 hours. I may refill the meal worm tray and watch the bluebirds immediately swoop in and begin making laps back and forth from the next box, or it may sit idle for two days. I could go days without seeing a woodpecker, but as soon as the suet cage is empty I see the yellow-bellied sapsuckers at the wild bird seed feeder on the other side of the house while the downy woodpeckers attempt to feed from the globe and the red-bellied woodpecker gives me the stink-eye. And I thought the tuffed titmouse was a drama queen when it's preferred feeder went empty!

I'm going through a 35-lb. bag of wild bird mix each month. I've gone through a full 10-count box of suet cakes since February. I lose count on the safflower and meal worm bags because they are much smaller than the others.

I'm going to need a second job to keep feeding these free-loaders.