Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Stanegate Second Thoughts’ Category

There were some great things about our recent hunting trip in eastern Montana. The Carlin and Tooey got to trot almost to their hearts’ content in the wild country without danger from snakes, ticks, or other dogs.

There were only a few cockleburs and grass awns, and those we got out from the dogs’ coats pretty quickly.

The stars at night were amazing. I’ve never seen the Milky Way so clearly, and the Big Dipper pretty much blew my socks off (not literally–it was too cold for that) with how close and crisp those stars appeared.

And the dogs found and flushed a few pheasants and sharptails.

But mostly, it was an unsatisfying trip. It was cold – really cold: in the low 20s F during the day, and 0 at night. The birds were few and far between. And it was very windy. Even though the dogs flushed a few birds, the north wind whipped them quickly up and out of gun range and off to the far southern horizon. Being November, the days were short, and we had a lot of driving between areas where we were permitted to hunt.

And then, there was that little trip to the vet…

A bit of back-story is in order: Almost 7 years ago to the day, Russ and I were hunting the Potholes in eastern Washington with Rod and Renae. We had their dog Rio along, and we had Cooper and Tooey. Tooey liked to cruise the edges of the ponds looking for whatever could be flushed or chased. And she found something – a porcupine. That porcupine got Tooey but good. We spent quite a while pulling quills out of her nose and muzzle. We got them all out, but as soon as we let her go, she ran right back toward that spot where the porcupine had been. She fully intended to get that porcupine for what it did to her. We called her off, and most reluctantly she turned away and came back.

But apparently, she has never given up her grudge against porcupines.

It turns out that porcupines like to eat the inner bark of trees. But until this last week, we didn’t know that. Both dogs were hunting in a draw crowded with bare, stunted trees. Fortunately, Russ was on the ridge right above them. Suddenly, he called out “Porcupine!”

The dogs had ventured into porcupine country. This is what I think went through their minds when Tooey encountered the porcupine. Tooey: “Porcupine! I am going to GET you, sucker.” Carlin: “I think I’ll go see what Tooey is looking at.”

Both dogs got quilled by the unhappy resident. Once Russ called out, the rest of us came running to grab the dogs and take them back to the truck, where we could try using a hemostat to pull the quills out.

But getting them out didn’t work so well this time. We finally muzzled Tooey with a rope during the operation, but it was clear that we wouldn’t get the ones out from inside her mouth. Carlin bit Russ on the thumb while Russ was trying to get the quills out, and besides, Carlin had a quill up one nostril.

So off to the vet we drove, a little office in Glendive, about an hour away from where we were hunting.

Dr. Jen at Dawson County Veterinary Clinic was awesome at getting those quills out. The vet also did a careful, thorough search of their paws (apparently, some dogs try to wipe the quills away from their muzzles and then get them stuck in their paws), ears, eyes, mouth, neck, and front legs.

Poor Tooey had to be sedated to get the quills out from the roof of her mouth.

She found several broken-off quills in both dogs, and pulled them out, too.

Based on what we’d just gone through, we were not surprised to hear that quill-pulling is a big part of Dr. Jen’s practice. One poor local dog apparently comes in once a month to have quills pulled. I guess some dogs never learn.

Like Tooey. I imagine that this incident will just intensify her grudge. I hope for Carlin, though. He’s not as happy to put up with pain as Tooey is.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

It was an all-dogs-all-the-time weekend. Often our weekends are that way, but this one was packed.

Agility

On Saturday morning, Russ took Carlin to beginning agility class. Apparently, Carlin is doing quite well and really enjoying it. I knew he would, and I’m very happy Russ has found a good instructor for it. Someday I’ll go watch, but I hear that they’re learning stuff in very small pieces.

Going for a walk

While they were gone, Tooey and I went for an hour-long walk while it was still cool. There’s this neighborhood to the south of us that I hadn’t explored yet, so was took the long way through the adjacent park, and then wound our way among the houses and streets. That section was not laid out in a grid, and it was full of dead ends and cul de sacs. I never did exactly get lost (I caught sight of a busy road that I recognized several times), but it wasn’t a straightforward walk. Tooey enjoyed it though, especially that last bit when I let her swim in our neighborhood irrigation canal. She looked for the ducks that often live in the reeds that line the bank, but none were to be found.

Bathe and trim (part one)

When we got home, Tooey got a bath and trim. She was filthy. As in, the-water-turned-brown filthy. As in, why-have-I-been-letting-this-filthy-beast-sleep-on-the-bed filthy. By that time of the morning, the temperature had already reached the high 90s F, so blowing her dry was mostly a formality. Although it does get the loose hairs out of her coat, which means I don’t have to do quite as much brushing and combing. With a light trim, Tooey was looking and smelling beautiful again.

Bathe and trim (part two)

When Russ got home, Carlin got a bath and a clip-down. He was dirty, but not nearly as dirty as Tooey. (Perhaps that’s because of her swim in the irrigation canal?) I haven’t been clipping Carlin down because I had still been harboring this fantasy that I might show him in October, but I finally realized that that’s not going to happen. He doesn’t like judges touching him, he’s worried about being so close to other dogs, and I don’t handle all that very well. And plus, there’s unlikely to be any IWS in the Boise shows in October, so there’d be no point in showing him. (You conformation folks will get the pun, eh?)

So he got clipped. His topknot and ears went down to about ¾”, and the rest of him to 3/8”. He looks very handsome to me. Plus he and I are training for hunting now, and a short coat makes it easier to get out the burrs, seeds, and grass awns.

The First End

After about 3-1/2 hours, both Carlin and I were done grooming. I had Russ’s delicious soup for dinner, did a load of laundry, watched TV for a bit, and went to bed.

It all started again on Sunday morning.

Scent work

My scentwork group all came over to my house early in the morning to practice. We did several Interior Advanced hides, a couple of Exterior Advanced hides, one vehicle search (which is not part of AKC Scent Work, but is done in some other organizations’ searches), a Handler Discrimination Novice search, and an Advanced Container search with extra containers. Carlin did well on all of them except Containers.

In Containers, he could not concentrate. The containers were on his lawn, he ran last after all the other dogs, and all he could think about was sniffing the grass to learn more about all the other dogs. Finding odor was just not of any interest at all. OK, so I guess we go back to basics in Containers on grass. Normally, I practice Containers on concrete, but I’m going to have to change my ways. Somehow.

Spaniel training

After lunch, Carlin and I then trucked off to a friend’s property to practice water blinds and hunt deads. Since by that time it had gotten really hot, we decided to do water work first. My friend is an accomplished retriever person, and she set up some fun land-water-land-water-land blinds for Carlin. They weren’t long blinds, but it did mean that he had to resist stopping to hunt around on the island. He’s been through this scenario before, and I didn’t have to handle him very much. If this had been a retriever hunt test, it would not have met the standard—I let him get way off the straight line from me to the bumper, but my goal was to get him down wind from the bumper so he could find it on his own. Which he did just fine, several times in multiple locations.

Then came the hunt dead. Carlin has never failed a hunt dead in a spaniel test, but he’s gotten himself way off course many times. Enough to push time limit to the very nubbins. Enough to raise my stress level considerably, and enough to lower his score by quite a bit.

In a hunt dead, the handler knows only vaguely where the bird is. The judge will say, for example, that the bird is somewhere in the arc formed by that distant that tree out there to the left and that fence post out to the right, and about 65 yards out from the line. So basically, you try to make some kind of educated guess as to where the bird might be, and then send your dog straight out in a line to a spot downwind from that spot. Of course, you have to guess where downwind is out 65 yards away—sometimes that’s obvious, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the wind is moving differently out there. Or there may not be any breath of wind at all.

And in yesterday’s practice, Carlin did exactly right. We set it up so that Carlin would out into a cross breeze. I sent him in a line that would put him downwind of where I thought the bird was, he actually took that line, and then hooked a right when he winded the bird. Actually taking the line is what I was looking for. So, good boy!

Riding in the car

While Carlin and I were gone, Russ took Tooey for a ride in the car, which is a good thing in and of itself. He was looking for a DMV where he could maneuver the boat and trailer, so both could be licensed and registered in Idaho. Since this was a reconnaissance mission, there were no worries about leaving Tooey in a hot car. Just a nice air-conditioned ride on a hot sunny day.

the now-registered Spainnear Uisce (the boat), Tooey, and Carlin

The Ending End

By the time we all got home, it was time for dinner, a little TV, another load of laundry (to wash the dog bath towels), and bed.

Like I said, all dogs, all the time.

Read Full Post »

Back when I got my first Irish Water Spaniel, Cooper, I had a lot of help learning to groom and trim the coat. Cooper was a wiggly puppy, not all that eager to be up on the grooming table at all, much less stand still while people were working with very sharp shears around all his tender spots.

One of my first teachers, Colleen, used to have me come to her house before dog shows so she could get my attempt at a trim into good shape.

Cooper and Colleen

When she got to trimming around his boy bits, I would hold them out of the way and cover them with my hands. I didn’t want him to be hurt, and I knew he’d never get up on the table again if he got cut back there. Colleen was very careful and always warned me when she was getting close.

“I don’t want to cut you,” she’d say.

“Better me than him,” I’d reply.

She never did cut me or him. As I observed and practiced, I got better, and since then, I’ve able to do a pretty good job without more than a minor nick on either myself or my dogs.

So, I was grooming Carlin yesterday. He doesn’t love standing still either. It was a nice day, so I had the door open. I had the shears out. One of my hands was shielding the hanging boy bits, and the other trimming nearby long coat.

And then something happened outside. Tooey jumped up and ran out into the back yard. Carlin jerked, and my finger got in the way of the tips of those very sharp shears just as they were closing. It was a small cut — I didn’t even notice it until later.

But the whole thing scared the crap out of me. He was fine, though, and my finger is already mostly healed.

Better me than him.

Read Full Post »

Carlin did something last Saturday that I still can’t figure out.

Here’s the setting: A quiet, warm afternoon, warm enough to want to leave the doors and windows open, but not so hot as to be oppressive. Carlin up on the grooming table in the grooming room (which is in an outbuilding), facing the open door to the outside. Me wielding scissors on Carlin’s coat to finish up an hour of combing and clipping.

All of a sudden, Carlin became very distracted. His nose started doing a lot of vigorous sniffing. His head waved side to side, obviously trying to capture the scent to determine where and from what this new scent is coming from.

I thought maybe he wanted to go outside, so I let him off the table. He stuck his head partway out the door, and then turned around and ran to the opposite side of the room, where he hid behind some machinery stored there. When I went to see what he was doing, I was concerned to see him shaking like the proverbial leaf. His whole body was shaking and the whites of his eyes were showing.

Tooey, on the other hand, was lying on the floor near the door, snoozing. She didn’t seem concerned at all. So I woke her up, and she and I went out to case the yard, trying to see what might be out there. My first thought was mountain lion (not likely, but not impossible). Then I thought, maybe skunk. But usually, I can smell skunk, and I didn’t detect that. Tooey remained unconcerned as we patrolled the property together.

When we got back to the grooming room, Carlin was standing a bit closer to the door (I think to keep track of Tooey and me), but he was still shaking.

So, I got Tooey back into the room and shut the door. Carlin relaxed a bit with the door shut, so I got him back up onto the table and I finished grooming him.

But then we had to get back to the house. I opened the door to the grooming room again, and Tooey and I stepped out and walked to the front door of the house. Carlin could easily see us from the grooming room, and when I got the front door to the house open, he ran as fast as he could from the grooming room, to the front door, and into the house.

He paced around inside, clearly not comfortable. So I gave him some Rescue Remedy and a cookie, and had him go into his crate in a dark room for a bit.

That evening, he was willing to go out the dog door in back and into the chain link kennel that evening, but not out into the front yard. At bedtime, I gave him more Rescue Remedy and we all hopped onto my bed to sleep.

The next morning, he reluctantly went out the front door and peed in the front yard, but then came right back to the porch, where he paced back and forth, still worried about whatever it was. I gave him more Rescue Remedy, and just let him stay in the house and kennel—wherever he wanted to be. Tooey and I stayed outside.

Finally, by that evening, he must have been satisfied that all danger was past, and happily ran all over the front yard, saying hi to the neighbor’s sheep and cat.

I asked the neighbor if he saw anything unusual on any of his extensive collection of surveillance cameras, but no. I guess it will just have to remain a mystery.

Read Full Post »

Last summer, Tooey found and sampled almost all the ripe melons before we had a chance to harvest them. We just got used to eating around the bites she’d taken.

She’d pick one up, take it to a nice shady spot, and have a snack. If it it wasn’t quite ripe enough for her, she’d retrieve another.

Carlin got into the act, too. He liked cucumbers and lettuce.

So this year, when we replaced the old rotting raised beds with new sheet metal ones, we decided we’d build a fence around them to keep the dogs out. Or we hope it’ll keep them out anyway. They’re not particularly enterprising thieves. For example, they haven’t bothered to figure out how to open the cabinet where the kitchen garbage is kept, and they don’t counter surf (at least yet).

Once we get the gate installed (it wasn’t in yet at the time of the photos below), we hope the fence will be sufficient to keep them out.

But then we caught them casing the situation, so you never know what will happen once the scent of ripe cantaloupes and cucumbers starts floating through the air.

Read Full Post »

Think large, raw link sausages. Thick, fully packed, almost to bursting. That’s how Tooey’s lower intestines looked on the X-ray.

I’d known she was feeling bad for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. She was eating, drinking, peeing, pooping, and sleeping just fine. But she didn’t quite run as fast as I thought she used to, and she just didn’t seem to enjoy the things she usually enjoyed. Like, she could hardly have cared less about finding her rat in a couple of Barn Hunt practices, and she totally didn’t care during the Barn Hunt trial in late March. When I took her out to a friend’s ranch, she didn’t critter at all, just kind of moped along as we walked.

Then I felt her abdomen, and one side felt enlarged and firm, in a soft sort of way. I had my friend Jan feel it too, and she said, “Take her to the vet tomorrow.”

So I did.

Honestly, I was afraid — I was afraid that Tooey had cancer. The vet listened to me and examined Tooey, and suggested X-rays to take a look at the soft tissue. So that’s what we did.

Turns out, Tooey’s intestines were so full of poop that the vet couldn’t see any organs at all. Tooey was constipated. Which is odd, since I’d been picking up poop every day.

So I fasted Tooey for 24 hours (oh, she hated that!), and took her back to the vet again the next day for new X-rays. This time things looked much better. Only about a 1/3 of her intestines were full, and the vet could see that her organs looked fine. The spleen she described as “prominent”, but not enlarged, so that’s worth watching, but nothing to worry about.

But Tooey still wasn’t feeling well. So the vet did another quick exam, and found a broken upper molar. It hadn’t been stopping Tooey from eating, but it must have hurt. It also could have been infected and abscessed. So I gave the go-ahead to have the tooth pulled.

While Tooey’s tooth was being extracted, the vet found two more broken teeth, another upper molar and a lower pre-molar. So those were pulled, too.

We went home with a prescription for pain pills, antibiotics, and direction for adding more blended veggies to Tooey’s diet.

I have to say, that after just few day, Tooey is much perkier. I even found her crittering in the woodpile. So I know she’s feeling much happier.

Read Full Post »

It was a busy weekend with the dogs. Russ took Carlin out spanieling on Saturday, and on Sunday I took Tooey to Barn Hunt practice and Carlin to Scentwork practice.

Russ said Carlin did everything perfectly spaniel-wise. The grey, snowy weather didn’t trip him up, and he didn’t forget anything, even though he hadn’t been practicing spaniel work since last fall. He found his birds, sat after flushing them, stayed sitting while one flew away and the others were brought down, retrieved the downed ones, and delivered them to hand.

Apparently, Carlin’s work finding birds was better than Russ’s work bringing them down, but as I wasn’t there, so I can’t say.

Anyway, Sonya Holcomb took some photos, for which I am grateful.

Carlin waiting his turn to hunt — photo by Sonya Holcomb

Carlin staying steady in the field watching his flushed bird fly away — photo by Sonya Holcomb

Carlin delivering his bird — photo by Sonya Holcomb

There are no photos of Sunday’s practices, as there were no photographers to hand and I was busy handling my dogs.

On Sunday morning, Tooey was a bit off on her rat hunting. I actually began to wonder if she was feeling well. She was way slower than normal — if the practice runs had been at a trial, she’d have qualified in only one run, which was just two seconds under the time limit (2 minutes 30 seconds for the Open level). And she did something she’s never done before — indicated a tube that didn’t have a rat in it. Very odd. She indicated that same tube (but not any other non-rat tube) in both runs 2 and 3. The woman playing judge said she thought Tooey was treating this non-rat tube differently from the tubes with a rat in them, but agreed that it was a subtle difference.

But in all three runs, she happily went through a longer-than-usual tunnel without being asked, and she was happy to climb the hay bales. So — not a total loss. I do wonder how she and I will perform in a couple weeks at the Valley Barn Hunt trials in Kuna, Idaho. I guess we’ll see, as Sunday’s practice was the last one before the trial.

Carlin did really, really well at his Sunday afternoon scentwork. He stayed mostly calm (except when a pug, dressed in a lumpy yellow coat with a floppy hood, walked by — obviously, this was an alien being that needed warning off). Staying calm around other dogs is his challenge, so I was happy with his demeanor overall.

I am often amazed at that dog’s nose. He found all his hidden odors — small containers of birch essential oil buried in the dirt, lying along the railroad tracks, tucked up high in a door jamb, behind an electric meter, and under a wooden pallet. He even found a container with clove essential oil, stuck up above his head on a fence post. I haven’t trained him to find clove, so he got rewarded big time when he found and indicated that one.

All in all, a very happy weekend. Both dogs ate their dinner and zonked out — Carlin curled up on the grass in the backyard kennel and Tooey inside on her dog bed.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: