Organizing my mind-no small task!

   I have put off the next phase of the "Chubby" stories as it will be a big one. Although we would only be at Twin Bridges Riding Academy for three years, they were fun-filled and packed with many small adventures. It was a very happy time for me and a period where Chubby really took over things and tried to be the boss of most of the animals. But some of the animals would retaliate and he would sometimes pay for his bossiness. I will have to think a bit on the next posts and dig out my photo album as well.
   I have a friend named Sharon that lives in the Chilcotin area that does some wondrous blogs and she has encouraged me to have this blog. I have always admired her ability to focus and do a great job on whatever she attempts no matter what it is.  Sharon is much more advanced than I in the use of a computer and is very in to photographs. She has taken some wonderful photos and includes them in her blogs. I am still mourning the loss of my Lexmark (All-in-one) printer that did fabulous things like scanning and reproducing photos. My financial position decrees that I cannot buy another and the one I had died from a paper choke.
   When I sold my reining horse I wanted to get myself something that I would enjoy, just for me. Something that wouldn't cost me money to feed etc.  On another friends advice I bought my first computer. Foolishly for that kind of money I thought I would get one and it would last me many years.Well it did, but as many of you know, they need updating and other gadgets to help with power bumps and many things I probably still don't know about. I have bungled along as best I can and to date have actually received two freebie computers that people didn't want and passed on to me. So it has been a two step forward and one step back for me and if I live long enough I may get better. Notice I said better not good! Right now I would be happy to get the spell check to work when I want and to see the entire content of what I am writing. Perfection however has never been a big part of my life and I just wanna  write my stories. It may take me a bit longer to get even close to good, so I will just go and do my thing on correction attempts. Who knows how you spell "boss-i-ness"? That's it for now folks.

$25 is still $25

    In the days following my first dog bite I did fume a lot and felt helpless to get anything done about things. First and foremost, I thought the owner should take some responsibility. So my next step was to visit her, at her place of work. I normally wouldn't do that but this time I did. There was little satisfaction there as I literally watched this woman SIMPER! Small people using their diminutive size  for sympathy simply p me off. I could feel my temperature rising and when she told me  "if I was going to be a dogcatcher I could expect to get bitten", I had to leave. 

    I suppose most people would have just said "Oh Well" and forgotten about it. I certainly didn't lose any sleep over the $25.00 but I didn't forget about it either. Whenever I saw this person I just treated her as a non-persona, non-existent and invisible. Approximately fourteen years later, I met this same person on the street and she told me she would like to make "amends" for what she now (belatedly) felt was irresponsible dog ownership.  I surprised myself by answering that  "amends" could be made by paying me the $25.00 still owing for my meds.
 A few days later I was even further surprised when a check for that amount was left at the office for me

 It just goes to show you never know "by the size of a frog, how far it's gonna jump"!



First Blood Equals Fear

    In the very first months of patrolling as an Animal control Officer, I picked up quite a few dogs. One dog in particular managed to avoid being caught. It was a Blue Heeler and as it evaded me time and again, I took up the challenge to try harder. On a particular day in December of '95, I had already caught two of the three dogs at large on 4th street. The Heeler was being difficult again. Ahh!  But today I had a pkg of cookies I was taking to a friend, maybe the cookies would help. The dog stopped and squatted down and I spent about ten minutes feeding it bits of cookies. I knew it would do no good to swoop down on this dog and catch her like a rabbit, so I took my time and tried to be patient. Very slowly I slid my hand under her collar and BANG, she went berserk!!  The first bite got me in the meaty part of my hand below the thumb and it bled well. But it didn't stop with one! And I wouldn't let go. So she went up and down both my arms like a zipper and biting right through my winter jacket. My fingers of course were not exempt from the bites and finally I slammed the dog on the ground and she went to work on my winter boot. Well that didn't hurt anyway. As in most traumatic situations this seemed to have gone on for a great deal of time but actually was all over in minutes. With too many dogs already in the back of my truck, I put this one in the front on the passenger side. I may have just thrown her in, I really don't remember.

   Now it was off to the hospital.  I drove with my hand on my leg and the blood spot on my jeans grew but not too rapidly. A long way from my heart as horse people would say and I would live to "catch" another day.  Upon entering the hospital one nurse immediately said, "Oh and she got your leg too". "No " said I. "Only my arms and I'm not dropping my drawers."  The Dr. was phoned and my bites were cleaned up and set to soak in a long pan of warm water. Now the pain began and I think too I was going into a bit of shock. I would have to wait an hour and during that hour it seemed to help if I could pace. I just could not sit and take the pain. Moving helped.
    In due course the doctor did arrive and no stitches were given, as it is better to leave puncture wounds to drain. I was sent away with a great many band aids and a butterfly type one on the big bite. Oh and of course there was a prescription for antibiotics, and one for pain and a tetanus shot.
    Now that it was time to leave, a funny thing happened to me, fear crept into my mind. Well it didn't creep it jumped right in! I didn't want to get into my own truck with that damn dog.  Hmm, what to do?   Just who did I think would do it for me?  No one, I was on my own and had hired on to be tough so......best get on with being tough and doing a good job.  At least check it out through the window and see first. I mean it wasn't as if I had a wild animal in there like a bobcat or a cougar that was going to leap out and attack. Or did I?  And I still had three dogs to "process". Get on with it girl times awastin'.

     Out at the truck I looked in the window at the dog and she looked up at me and more or less hung her head.  Now, this was an attitude I could handle and I would just have to put my wild imagination and any fear I might harbour on hold.  I picked up my meds but was afraid to start them until I was home and didn't need to drive any more. In the meantime I had work to do.  Back at the office I found out that the town had hired me as a "contractor" and really didn't want anything more to do with the fact that I had been bitten and needed $25.00 for my meds. I now know the way to go would have been a civil suit but at the time didn't want a lot of fuss and so I didn't do very much at all. I do know I was still on meds at Christmas and couldn't even have an alcoholic drink, which ticked me off all over again.

Anonymous No More?

     Well, it would seem Anonymous has left me. It said this a.m. if  I was ticked off then it was gone. No more comments. Now I get to wonder for the rest of my life who it was! Because of the sharpness of comments I am thinking it may be Ken? Am I right? Someone who knows more about computers than I do but that is most of the people out there using them. Someone also who is way more careful than me.
   Anyway I do love my comments so you can come back Anonymous if it was easier to be that way. Its driving me nuts but I am rather nutty at the best of times. And who out here in the real world is actually sane anyway? OK that's all you get, I am off to another story.

Learning Every Day

   I seem to feel a need to communicate about this blog, which by the way I think has taken over my life. I love getting comments from friends but I am a "bit ticked" at Anonymous. How can I get back to you if you are non-existent? Anyway this is one way and yes Chubby was a dog and he did so try to get it on with the cat.  However I don't think they were successful and I wasn't sued for paternity problems. We left and never saw the cat again.
   No sense apologizing for mistakes again, have already stated this is really a learning experience for me and I don't know what the hell I am doing but am persevering for sure and can't seem to stop. I should have known I would become hooked on this as I have always enjoyed writing stories. Its not hard work to write them but corrections and formatting and stuff like that are a proper female dog! But someday maybe I will have more than one blog and just get up in the morning and write about whatever wherever. However for the time being I have more than my hands full with this first one.
  Cannot list the things I have learnt today but my spell check will work before I publish but not when I preview. And it would be great to see all of what I am writing in order to correct the bloody stuff.  I think all my life I have been more interested in just doing stuff not the technical or scholarly stuff.  They say its never too late to learn  but I wonder about that?? Well here cometh the sun!! So enough for now......Later gater.

The First Dog

   Way back in Oct. of 1995  (Wow 17 years ago - I though it was only 15!)  I impounded my first dog. My records state it was a female named Jasper and she came along peaceably. I felt badly as the dog had done nothing wrong and it would have been more justifiable to pick up the owner instead.  I proceeded to "process" the dog accordingly. (That always sounds like something to eat to me. But truly these dogs are well-treated and we do not eat them for breakfast) Once the dog had been delivered to the impoundment place and I was home again I was shocked to receive a phone call from the owner. He was an out-of-towner and had not placed any identification tag on his dog so we were unable to phone him about his dog. I guess he eventually figured it out and insisted on talking to me. I was very surprised tht my number was given out so freely. The man of course was angry and kept telling me he had only gone for a pee. Well I thought why had he left the dog on her own while he did so, when he had a fenced yard and needed only to pop her in there?  But of course he was only interested in venting at me and would not give me a chance to speak. Hah! A new part of this job I had not thought about.
    People consider their dogs a possession and the dogcatchers as thieves, sneaking around and snatching their animals when their backs are turned. A different concept indeed to what I was thinking. In any case the dog had been retrieved from the pound and the fine had been paid. I possibly had made my first enemy? Don't know as I never came across the fellow again and have yet to see what he looks like.
   It was interesting to note that I shook the whole time I was "doing my duty" and it would take some time for this to become "old hat" with me. I dislike confrontations and learned to try and avoid them as much as possible.  I began telling people their $25.00 fine did not include a strip off the dogcatcher. Mostly people were ticked that they had to pay but it has been proven that warnings do not work at all. Neither does phoning me to tell me they are looking for their dog make a difference. The dog is still loose and bottom line is: You gotta be smarter than the dog at keeping it under control.
     Oh Yeah. "Control" is deemed as: contained in a proper yard or on a leash!"

How Did It Happen?

   How did it all happen that I became the Animal Control Officer??  Well really easily.  I was approached by an official in our town and asked if I wanted the position.  I didn't really think about it a long time, nor did I consult anyone else about it.  I was well known as an animal person and had for years dealt with horses. Dogs just seemed to be apart of life on a farm and riding.  They went hoof in paw you might say!  In any case a contract was soon drawn up but it did not include a vehicle at my disposal or any training at all.  That didn't seem a big problem as since arriving here I had taken on all sorts of jobs I had no training in.  I have split shakes, loaded lumber, done all sorts of farming, and it was all on-the-job training.  I learned by doing, which luckily I got away with and still had all of my body  parts, although I nearly lost a hand to a chain saw.

   I was fortunate to acquire a large dog kennel which was made of fiberglass and light to load into my truck but very awkward. Once in the truck it provided a safe place for any dog I picked up in the line of duty. The gate to this crate consisted of bars and when anyone saw a dog in it they would comment on how it was in "jail".

No one else seemed to see the safety aspect of it.  Anyway it worked. I also received two magnetic signs that stated I was the Animal Control Officer and I actually felt really proud of the whole outfit. Off I went that first day to find my first stray dog.  I must mention that we had a real problem with loose dogs at that time. It was difficult to even get into one of the restaurants for loose dogs lying there.

   I once observed some children on front street, on their bicycles with their dogs loose and the animals got to fighting.  My time at the dog farm had shown me how difficult it was to separate two fighting dogs and I really feared for the children's safety as they could not be expected to know how to get it done, nor would they have the strength.  It usually takes two people, each grabbing a dog by the scruff (and whatever else is available) and pulling the dogs apart.  If you try and lift one of the dogs he is liable to get his hangy-down parts bitten and that is no good either.  Luckily that time the children did not get bitten.

   The bylaws state that any dog not contained in a yard or on a leash and loose is a dog at large (no matter how big he is) 

Joyce is Learning!

   Bear with me people. I am learning and through some playing have finally corrected a few things and also found the damn spell check. I have to remember this computer does not have a brain and isn't just out to get me! For a minute there I thought I was actually digressing from what little I did know in that the last post lost its title, it was supposed to be "Floggin' the Bloggin' which did turn up all on its own. Possibly I presume too much?? Now if I could just figure out who this flashing composition editor is....
   But I tell you, this bloggin' had turned my life upside down and I don't want to do anything else!! Possibly these past eight years on my own has me "bushed"?  How can you be bushed in town?  I see people most every day but with these days off and the fact that it keeps snowing I seem to be getting permanently attached to my computer chair.

 Okay thats it and I am going to see if the title will go with this one??  Holy cow that spell check is wonderful!

Flogin' the Blogin'

   Oh boy! This bloggin is something else. I at times feel like I am flogging a dead horse but I have some wonderfully supportive friends and hope readers will bear with me. Today I went on a house-hunt.  No not for a new house but for my dictionary. With a house full of books it took awhile to find it. The good old Winston Dictionary for Canadian Schools eventually turned up and I was able to see that yes I had mispelled endeaver. I only wish I could find a way to edit my posts but right now I have so many names and titles crowding my already stuffed-with-trivia mind that it will have to wait for another day. One major problem is with the formatting and I am unable to see the whole blog I have written to correct it before I actually publish it. I hope friends will bear with me until I get it all sorted out and hope where I have too many spaces or jump a line one is able to at least understand the context of what I have written. I am still looking into my use of the word astigmatism in my very first blog but I bet you guys knew what I meant?? Maybe. Another friend rewrote it as negative connotation and that sounds pretty royal to me .

  If I didn't have friends my life would not be worth living and I am most grateful for every one of them. Mostly I just wanna write and I am doing that now and am happy with it. As a matter of fact, I can't seem to stop bloggin' . Thats all for now folks! I think?? Maybe not?? Who the hell knows. But I am happy in my own mind cause I know me so well.

Chubby meets Trouble

    Before I left Calgary to work at the dogfarm, I acquired my first horse. As with most things in my life it had not been a planned endeavor. I usually just fall into things and don't necessarily think these things through very thoroughly.
    I was contacted by two young girls I knew who had seen an ad for a colt for only $75.00.The trouble was, they only had fifty and wanted to know if I would be a one-third owner and supply the other $25.00 and I went with them to look at it. About this time I did begin to wonder if this was a good idea but it was a dream of the girls' and one of mine as well. It could be interesting!The colt was in due time delivered to N.E. Calgary where the girls lived. All seemed to go well for a couple of months and then I received a phone call saying the S.P.C.A. was thinking of taking the colt away from the girls.  It turned out they had been feeding sacked feed only and not enough. These girls were still in school and knew little of caring for a horse. I made a deal with them to take over the horse and when they could prove to me they could pay for feed and knew a little more about horses I would return it to them.  Should I mention here now that the colts name was Trouble?
    I was lucky enough to find a place to keep the colt just down the road. I had an older friend in turn that helped me in fencing and caring for this colt. Trouble had other ideas about staying in a small pasture all by himself and escaped several times. My horse friend Ruth thought that by exercising the colt on a lungeline he would be tired and less likely to try and get out all the time. What did I know? It sounded good to me.
  Chubby didn't seem to think much about Trouble at all and just enjoyed going with me to feed the colt several times a day. Then one day when I was lunging Trouble around in a circle, I lost my cool and hollered at him to Whoa! I guess Chubby  had been watching all this and decided he would take things into his own jaws. Yes Jaws! He ran over and grabbed Trouble by the nose as I watched in utter amazement and called the dog off. What was with that? Some latent wolf tactic? Lucky for all of us Chubby did not weigh enough to succeed in this maneuver. So the lesson learned there was not to holler at the horse and to be aware that Chubby was always willing to step in and "help?"
   Chubby also had a bit of a temper and at a much later date, Trouble would step on him and the dog came up fighting, jumping and growling and snapping almost up to the base of  Troubles tail. But for the most part Chubby took it all in and didn't seem to mind the horse at all.

Chubby in Canal Flats

    As summer turned to fall, I got an opportunity to go to B.C. to cut Christmas trees. Always on the lookout on how to make an extra buck(that hasn't changed) and with a chance for a break from the city, I did not hesitate to accept the offer. Trees and mountains and the outdoors was definitely my idea of heaven on earth. A friend picked us up and Chubby and I went to his small ranch(?) near Canal Flats.
     After what seemed like a long day we entered Slims cabin and were greeted by his female cat. I will never understand what happened next, whether the cat was in heat or??
 But Chubby greeted the cat enthusiastically and although he had had his "operation" decided he was once again an "intact" male.(Some things never die huh?)  Anyway there the two animals were bouncing on the bed and to all intents and purposes attempting to breed!!! We could only shake our heads and wonder how good the vets were these days.  Besides his extra-curricular activities in the cabin with the cat, Slim and I did a lot of riding and Chubby was always up for that and enjoyed himself totally. All too soon our break was over and we had to return to the city and instead of cutting Christmas trees we worked on Slims new cabin and that was way more fun but no money in it. We left feeling rested of body and spirit.

Chubby in Indus

 Chubby and I left the dog farm and went next to a rich mans hobby farm. He wanted a cook/housekeeper and I was getting a little desperate to leave the dog farm. I had gotten sick and also my two horses and I wondered if we would all make it out alive. When I talked to the man looking to employ me(?) I was adamant in that I had two horses, a dog and a cat and if they couldn't come I couldn't.  Why would you hire such a person? But it did not put the man off and we agreed to meet in a coffee shop to discuss things further. He said he had red hair-well...what was left of it. Closer to pink to my way of thinking, but we agreed on the terms and before I knew it I was loading horses and Chubby into a kennel crate and the cat in a carrier and off we went.

   The house was large and very modern and nice with a polar bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Lots of windows and a carport that sheltered Chubby, who was very happy to be free to wander about again.My horses were contained in a white fence like I had always dreamed about, albeit it was a very chewed up fence from previous bored horses being in there. Scalloped would be a good description. Chubby took over guard duties and barked to let me know whenever someone arrived at the house. Now we were able to go on rides up to get the mail and Chubby loved that! We were there for about six months and as the boss and I had a few differences I once again pulled up stakes and went back to Calgary and stayed at my parents house for awhile.
    Now came a different phase for Chubby. My mother had two female poodles that were unspayed and Chubby was an "intact" male. She acted like he would be a rapist the minute he walked in the house! So okay a trip to the vet was necessary for Chubby. It was funny to note that for the time we were in that house he totally ignored the poodles. It was as if he did not consider them dogs and I had to agree with him. His  only interest in that department came from their always-brimming dog dishes. Upon entering the house he would clean up all dog food available and burp contentedly and lay down on the broadloom for a snooze.
My Mom was good about letting Chubby out to do his business but he was equally as diligent about checking out the neighborhood and it was here he discovered garbage cans. In short order he was a professional can opener. No ones garbage was safe from his inspections. But he seldom wandered very far and always returned on his own when he had finished his "walkabout".

    If nothing else Chubby always seemed to endear himself to all people even when he was doing something bad. My Mom loved him and one day he refused to come back when she called and she hurried out to get him and sprained her ankle. Poor Mom was on crutches for Christmas!
 

During this time I was travelling a bit with a new boyfriend. Chubby always went with us and I discovered he was clever enough to always know where I was.  I could stay at a Motel and he would return to the right door and if we stayed with friends I only had to leave my bags there for him to know I would return for him.  He was an easy dog to have around and loved everyone and could be trusted not to fight with other dogs and to listen (somewhat) to anyone that gave him orders.

Dog's Are Master Adapters

    Why I am really writing is to address the woman who thought her dogs life may have come to an end by the fact that it was deaf and losing its sight as well. My wonderful companion of the past fifteen years is in the same position so I know of what I speak. 

     Dogs are “Master Adapters” and we have much to learn from them. Of course my heart broke when I thought of Keeper never hearing kind words of love from me again but I also could not bear the thought of not having her in my life. And so I have had to become a pretty good “adapter” myself.

     I don’t’ believe Keeper sits and feels sorry for herself because she has lost her hearing. Instead, she simply gets on with life to the best of her ability. Of course she relies on me for a few more things, but I believe her other senses have sharpened and come to her aid.

     Keeper is of working dog parentage and I believe collie types are most clever. She is half Border collie and half Australian Shepherd. She was a rescue dog and I have never regretted making the decision to take her on.

     In her “golden years” she is still a happy dog.  I have adapted to her hearing loss and always make sure she is on leash so she dosn’t wander off and get lost. We use a lot of hand signals and although her sight is also weakening, she can at this time still see enough to know what I am signalling. The “touch” has become very important as well. I touch her to alert her that I want her to do something and she usually responds most cleverly. Vibrations also work and at night I am able to tap the floor to alert her it is time to go to bed. When she is outside and gets to barking I bang the door with and old horsewhip and she is able to “hear” or else “feel” that and she comes in.

    At this stage of the game she certainly dislikes being on her own and will seek me out constantly. I am fortunate in that I seldom need to leave her on her own. If I have to be away for the day I am also lucky enough to have a “sitter” for her and that works very well.

    There are occasions when she thinks she sees or hears something that she needs to bark at but again a touch will put that at ease. We humans have many tools at our beck and call to use, but we have forgotten many of them and need our dogs to remind us.

    Keeper has always been a member of my pack. Even though I did things incorrectly to be a pack leader, she made me that anyway.

    So to wind up what I have to say, I would encourage people to not worry so much about a deaf dog and just learn to adapt, as the dog certainly will. They won’t bemoan the fact but will just get on with life as best they can and enjoy every day.  

Chubby Chicken

 I got Chubby from a friend when I was still living in Calgary, her son had apparently "won" him at a rodeo and for some reason she was looking for a home for him and came by at one of the few times in my life that I was dogless.  He was black and not overly large but later I often thought he had a Lab body and spindly little legs from some other breed of dog.  Then there were the "flying nun" ears that seemed to lead a life of their own at times.  So the picture you get is not an overly handsome fellow but he soon endeared himself to me.  When I left Calgary Chubby of course came with me.
 Our first place of stopping was a kennels near the Ghost River out Cochrane way. My job there became one of kennel girl and any other job that came up including assistant for the horse castrations.  Much could be written about that place but we will stick with Chubby.  I was ecstatic to have a small log cabin all to myself and it included a fenced yard out front for Chubby.  He on the other hand was not real happy about being in a pen during the day while I went out working and he could even see me! Why couldn't he be out? Still, ever an adaptable little cuss he did take it all in humour.  I remember I got him a kitten for company but that wasn't the greatest idea as the two of them got into lots of trouble on a rainy day in my cabin. I had no fridge or running water in the cabin so I tried to stock up of foodstuffs that would keep whenever I could. 

   The meals provided by my employer left much to be desired and I seldom left the table with an actually full stomach. I also had to pack a pail of water for washing in and drinking etc. On this particular day the kitten may have been chased up the cupboard by his Nibs and my one package of cookies got knocked down into the water bucket. No one wanted wet cookies not even the illustrious Chubby who would do anything for food and often ate things he shouldn't. It seems to me they also had the toilet roll floating in there and after that I seldom left the two animals in the cabin unsupervised.  The cat could not go out though because the 150 dogs in the kennels would go nuts and set up a great barking and would also kill him if he got in one of the pens.  We did however go on some wonderful walks on the open prairie.  Just Chubby and I enjoying life!