a blog about Kilt and her kids plus Trouble our JRT mascot.

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Sequim, Washington, United States

Friday, February 5, 2016


Champ didn't get the ranch experience that Kilt and Yoko have had, but he is no doubt a chip off the old block even without.  I'm happy when we do well at trials, but I'm even happier with them as ranch dogs that are able to take care of business.  Champ is the steadiest of my three.  You can see that in the nose to nose photo.  Kilt and Yoko would have popped that ewe with a grip long before that moment.  I like his steadiness.  I like his biddability.  I just wish I had more work for him to do.
I have had a handful of people ask to breed to him.  Sorry, he is neutered.  He was just too 'studly' for me to handle.  Now, he is a dream.
Plus, he loves to sing to music.  I'm not sure where he gets his great singing voice from :)  Hopefully, this Spring I will be able to find some different sheep for him to work.  And, maybe we can get to a trial or two.  He's just a lovely dog.

Stuck in the chutes.  Taking a heel to get them to move.

Backing a ewe out of a trailer

Giving a little necessary persuasion.

Monday, February 1, 2016


Okay, I'm through all 4 seasons of Hart of Dixie.  I probably missed about 10 episodes because I would fall asleep to it. LOL  Now I have moved on to "New Girl."  I'm loving the whole program.  It's kind of like Cheech and Chong with a few extra characters on acid.  Jess cracks me up.  She is so out there.  You just wish that sometimes you coukd be brave enough to be as bizarre as she!  Well, at least, I do.

The dogs bring me lots of comfort.  It's still not the same as cuddling up on the couch with someone you love :(  I'm a cuddler.  I miss that in my life now.  The gardening class I took showed me the error of my ways if I thought my gardens were work-free.  Lordy.  I have been pruning and weeding, weeding and pruning, and so forth.  Lots of raking up old leaves which I thought made good mulch, but learned that is where insects and bacteria like to hide.

I have always been dead set against Round-Up, but Andrew who writes for the paper and takes care of some million dollar homes over the bluff on the Strait of Juan De Fuca convinced me I am wrong.  It doesn't "relocate."  That's the key thing.  It's pretty safe after 4 hours for your pets and it doesn't leach out when it rains.  He used Round-Up and Snapshot.  Taking care of my place by myself, I'm going to have to go over to the dark side and believe him!

I'm missing trials and that's the way it's going to roll this year.  Even though, I am happy with how Champ is working, I just do not have the time or money to be gallivanting around to sheepdog trials.  Chest la vie.  The dogs have been a blessing for me.  Lots of love.  Four is enough, well, really three and a quarter.  Trouble only accounts for one quarter :)

Troubie has been doing great with me brushing her teeth with the ultrasonic toothbrush.  The ultrasonic brushes are just the right size for her plus they massage her gums helping with the gingivitis.  She has had about 6 teeth pulled in the past.  Wayne just could not take care of her the way she needed to be cared for at almost 14.  Kilt was a tad underweight.  She has been wormed and is eating twice a day now.  Plus, she is happier than I have seen her in a long time.  That makes me happy.

                                      The most important path for sustaining peace of mind is compassion

I'm going to have to make another trip to California...either in a week or two or at the end of March.  There are lots of loose ends to tie up.  I will take all 4 dogs (3 1/4 dogs) in the VW Jetta because I bet it won't even cost me much over $100 to do 1200 miles in that car.  It gets an easy 40-45 mpg.  Yea.
It will be tight quarters, but we will manage.

Plus, I need to get my CT of my lungs done.  I feel good, so that's a plus.  I have been having an energy protein shake once a day instead of an ordinary meal.  Plus, walking up and down my hill, well, that would keep anyone in shape :0)  I pray nightly that everything in my life will smooth out sooner rather than later.  When I think the chips are down, I try to think of someone in worse shape.  It usually snaps me out of it.  But, even so, I did NOT plan on retiring here alone. At the same time, it is a gift that I am here.  I'm still trying to remember 'Let go or be dragged.' Not as easy as it seems after decades of being married.

Go Panthers :)

Friday, January 29, 2016

Scars and Waves

I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. 

I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents...

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. But I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. 

Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. 

If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks. 

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Settling in....

Settling in....
Kilt, during the day, wanders past her imaginary acreage boundaries.  I bought her a new, current tag for her collar.  If I say 'Come' she ignores me most of the time.  But, if I say, Come RUN, she loves that...go figure.  That is how Wayne called her. She is no problem letting her out at night because she sniffs the air with apprehension.  She is smart. She knows there are cougar, etc. she stays close to the side porch where she can easily be seen with the LED flood lamps. She just gets a little wanderlust during the daytime.

Kilt barks more than my other dogs.  It's okay to bark at strangers, but she barks when she is happy, which is most of the time. She barks for attention. She barks when she plays. I'm going to try a citronella collar on her when I leave her in the kennel.

Trouble, well, Trouble (JRT) is no problem at all. She is just so happy not to have to live for 14 hours a day in a kennel run.  She has a bit of separation anxiety when I leave the house, but she is getting less anxious now.  I always ask Amazon's Alexis to play Enya for her when I have to go somewhere. She has lots of snuggly Costco blankets to curl up in plus a puppy hot disc in a one of her beds if she gets really chilly.

Yoko still would like it to be just her and Champ as it used to be. Champ is happier than a pig in shit because his mother loves to tug with him and just as Jet adored Trouble, Champ adores her the same. Champ sees it as more play friends for him.  Yoko sees it as less attention for her.
All in all, everyone is settling into their new routines fairly well.

Now, I appear to be the only one trying to settle into what will be my new routine. The unknown makes me a bit apprehensive, but I will try to take it one day at a time.

Addendum for after I had written this morning LOL

KK (Killer Kilt) met the elk herd head on so to speak.  She took on the 5 bulls, barking and dodging their antlers.  They held their ground and I believe they thought it was rather amusing.  Me, not so much.  I was in my PJs yelling at her trying to run down the driveway in my clogs!

She chased the yearlings and mamas from the driveway

She took on 5 of these guys

Finally, I set her in the back of the Rhino under the carport so she could get to know the Elk from a distance.  Kilt, you are going to see lots more of these animals here, so you best get used to them.

Later in the morning, Champ asked to go outside.  Mr. Politeness went down to the bottom of the driveway just to look at the Elk.  He's not like his mama :0)