Heavenly Doggie Daycare

Heaven has a new puppy care-giver.

Our dear friend Lucille no doubt was greeted at the pearly gates by our Aussie "Chewy" where they can now both walk without pain.Rest In Peace, Lucille.

Travelogue: Washington Wanderings

If you're looking for a horsie post, you can skip this one (though there are two rather large equines towards the end). I'll be back tomorrow with some silly Sunday videos.

Al and I went away for sort of a mini-second-honeymoon last weekend. It started out as a trip to see Jackson Browne in concert, and ended up being a very pleasant meander through south-central Washington. We left Ellensburg about noon, after determining that Jackson's (the colt, not the singer/songwriter) butt swelling was somewhat benign. We headed south through Yakima and turned south-west at Toppenish on Highway 97.
After leaving the wheat fields of the Goldendale plateau, and the main road, we came over this hill....
...into the Klickitat River valley. TREES! First some sort of oak, reminiscent of the live oaks of central California. Then a nice mix of pines and firs as we moved farther up the foothills of the Cascade range.

This was a fairly open area.
A little ways further and we discovered the valley had become somewhat of a canyon.
(Hey! Who's that under the tree, and what's he shooting?)
(Oh, just some gal taking pictures of the canyon.)
Then suddenly, the road emptied out into this plain and gave us our first really good shot of Mount Adams to the west.

And Mount Hood off to the south.

Quaint little motel/inn in Trout Lake, at the base of Mount Adams, where we stayed Friday night.
Each room has it's own special bear.

The morning view out our window--better than any motel I've ever stayed in before!

Our porch, with guest.
Our gracious host, Dave, and his daughter, Sarah (who makes killer sweet potato waffles for the continental breakfast).

The next day we wandered south toward the Columbia River gorge.
We're getting closer to Oregon: Mt. Hood over the rooftops of White Swan.

We stopped at a rest stop overlooking the River.
Can you say "The Bridges of Klickitat County"?

This old tree caught my eye.

On it's other side a sign that says:
"I am approx. 300 years old."

We putzed around the rest stop for about an hour, hoping to catch a train on it's way through one of the tunnels on either side of (and directly under) us.
No trains, but Al caught this guy swooping through.
(If you en-big-gin the photo, you'll see that his head is red and featherless--some sort of vulture?)
We had to settle for a train on the opposite side of the river.

This fellow was biking from Astoria, on the Oregon coast, to Green Bay, Wisconsin! When Al said he'd always wanted to do something like that on his bike, but figured he'd missed his youthful chance, the fellow reported that he is 54 years old!! We had passed him before the rest stop, and he passed us again when we arrived in Lyle, but I never got a decent shot of him riding.

We took the time to explore the "Old Hwy 8" route that went above the River.

We passed this cute carriage, pulled by two monstrous draft mules.

The only photo I got from the front--a quarter mile later I wished I had stopped.

Coming back down to the water,

we spotted this humongous kite! (The handler is down on the sand bar, behind the bluff overlooking the River.)

The highway bridge at the confluence of the Klickitat River and the Columbia.
(There's that cute photographer guy again!)
The little railroad hotel that we stayed in after the concert on Saturday night was a bit of a disappointment: a cute concept, but it couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to be a posh gourmet hideaway, or an out-of-the-way bed and breakfast. It was so unremarkable, we didn't even take any pictures.

Leaving town the next morning, heading north-east up the lower end of Klickitat River.

Whose that sharing the roadway? This little herd of deer, two does and their three fawns, still with spots, were coming down the hill towards the river. They had steep basalt cliffs to their right, and a drop off worthy of a guardrail to their left. They could have scrambled out either direction, but it would have been difficult.

What do we do, mama deerest?

Should we jump over the side here?

No, I think we're okay going a little farther.

Here's our regular path to the river, kids.
Thanks for waiting, humans.

It was nice to be able to just turn off the engine and wait for this group to pass. How pleasant, not being in a hurry to get anywhere!

Back over to the dry side of the state!Al and I were in denial about heading home, so we made a brief side trip...

We visited this State Park at the site of an early military post.

A replica of an old log barracks. I love the symmetry.

Well, we couldn't stall any longer; it was time to head for home (and a waiting puppy dog).
One thing that grows well in the lower Yakima Valley is hops (for brewing). Very few people would know what this crop was, suspended from guy wires....
Dropping down into the green of the Kittitas Valley.

Mount Stuart just visible through the haze (from recent brush fires).

They're here!

Al gets mobbed.

Happy puppy!

Good to be home!

Dog Days of Summer

It's been a rough weekend here. Time that should have been spent with the horses became time spent with the dog at the vet!

If you've visited here before, you may have gotten glimpses of Sandy, our part greyhound (we think, though as she has gained weight, she's lost that "racing silhouette") rescue from the Yakima Humane Society shelter. When we first got Sandy, she was pretty timid--who wouldn't be in a noisy, frightening setting like that? But she soon came out of her shell.She and Kate grew up together.
Hank's foreman's dog "Trackster" and Sandy are best buds. Anytime his family is gone from the house (including Sunday morning church) Trackster makes the 2-mile trek down the road to visit and play.
Hank's dogs, however, are a different story. I'm not sure when the animosity started, but the cattle pasture just west of our house is disputed territory: Sandy considers it her playground, but when Hank's boys do the irrigating, they bring along their two Aussie-Border Collie crosses, who want to defend the area against the interloper. Also, anytime Sandy accompanies me to the north end of our property, just across the street from Hank's, much barking ensues, and if the dog's can get to one another, there have been increasingly violent interactions. And, though she is equally at fault in being the aggressor, Sandy takes the brunt of it, as it's two against one. In the first such incident, a year and a half ago, they nearly ripped one of her pads off her front paw, as well as leaving significant puncture wounds on her hips and tail.
So we began taking her to town with us each day. The first few days, my principal allowed me to bring her to school, so I could do what doctoring was needed. Then she settled into a routine of going to the home of our now 93-year-old "dog-sitter," Lucille.
Lucille loves dogs. But she's a smart lady, and knows it would be difficult for her to take care of one full-time. And recognizes that it would be unfair to make a long-term commitment to a pet. So several years ago she started dog-sitting for our old Aussie, Chewy (Chewbaca), as Chewy's health declined, and it seemed unfair to leave her home for our long days in town. The task gave Lucille a reason to get up every morning--and gave us the opportunity to check on Lucille's well-being on a daily basis.After we lost Chewy, it was three months before we decided to get another dog--yet Sandy, being only about 5 months old, was a bit rambunctious for Lucille, so we would only take her for brief visits. When she was injured, however, she was older, and she needed to be kept quiet, so Lucille took on the task of dog-sitting again.
And won't give it up!
Unfortunately, this took away my motivation to get our yard fenced, so at home, Sandy generally was kept pretty close--if I had to work out towards the road, or if the kids were irrigating, Sandy stayed in the house. But occasionally, when Sandy is already outside and the boys have an unscheduled foray into the pasture, there are still scraps.

Saturday morning, we saw the boys go back to their house after setting their irrigation pipes, so we let Sandy out. But there must have been problems with the irrigation, because minutes later they were back, the dogs trailing along behind. Now, in the past, I have seen the two BC's hesitate at the cattle (but not dog) fence opposite our house, looking to see if Sandy were outside. On this day, they saw their target and ducked under and jumped Sandy.
All of the wounds were on the back of Sandy's body, attesting to the fact that she was retreating when they got her. Most were puncture wounds in her hips and tail. But one of the dogs did some major damage in her groin, right where her body joins her back leg. Some muscle damage, but, luckily, they did not manage to penetrate her abdominal cavity.

It was late enough in the morning that, by the time we stabilized Sandy and called the after-hours line, the trip to town would put us at their doorstep just as the clinic was opening for business.

There were five major wounds that required stitches. Sandy left the clinic about noon, with a bunch of purple stitches, antibiotics and an "e-collar" (named for the old Elizabethan lace collars).

The vet tech described the area of her groin as a "no man's land"--meaning there is a bit of an internal gap there where fluids could collect, so two "drains" (the little white squares in the photo) were left in that wound, to allow drainage.

Another trick I've used in the past is to put a shirt on a dog, to at least slow down any urge to lick or chew at the stitches--Obviously this T-shirt wouldn't stop her for long, but it does allow me to give her some freedom from the e-collar for short periods in the house when I can sit right with her and intervene if she starts fussing at things. She's actually pretty good about it, but the collar goes back on any time I can't give her my full attention.
Saturday after the surgery and most of the day Sunday, Sandy was pretty lethargic, not eating much until Sunday evening, and depressed about the collar and being limited to leash walks. She is feeling much better today, going outside with me for chores, and barking out the window at neighborhood goings-on. The girls were all quite fascinated by Sandy's new fashion accessories!
Tomorrow, she will visit Lucille for the morning (we have been concerned that the injuries might upset Lucille, but not having her visiting dog is upsetting to her as well) while I go to Yakima for fencing for the yard.