t may not seem like something to get excited about, but I've been hearing sandhill crane calls on my morning walks. They come to me from the south -- perfectly understandable, since the wetlands stretch out from the southern edge of the new development. When i lived in the farmhouse, the sadhills gathered to the east and north of us. It's fascinating to adjust to this new and yet familiar way of recognizing the coming of spring.
Last night, Sadey was surprised to see me head upstairs without closing her gate. She immediately bounded up with us, beating Henry to the top, wondering, I'm sure, what this was all about. I calmly went about my evening routines. As always, she was glued to my side while Henry watched. I'm like the piped piper with these two.
When I got to the part where I get into my bed, Sadey jumped right up with me. No, Sadey. you stay down on the ground! Just to emphasize that I meant business, I went back downstairs and fetched her bed, placing it at an opposite side of me to that of Henry's. That's Sadey's bed! -- I said. She tried twice more to join me, but got the same response each time. She gave up and settled on the floor. Then on her bed. Then I don't know where because I'd read my chapter for the evening and turned out the light.
Both dogs stayed up in my room with me, until some ungodly hour of the morning, when they both went down. Suit yourselves, pups! It's not time for me to join you.
But at 6:40 (which is right about when Henry usually wakes me), both were by my bedside, wagging their tails, licking any extremity they could find. I would say that to me, that was absolutely the best way to start my day.
We went for a walk. One dog at a time. As always, Henry is much faster so I take him out first.
Sadey pulls like crazy. I am going to have to work on this and stop being so lazy about putting on her harness. Still, she is a joyful girl and so I direct her this time south. Three blocks down, passing the street with Steffi's House, and we are by the wetlands.
No sandhills at the moment, but a very pretty sunrise over the expanse of prairies and ponds that separate us from the farmette lands.
At home again -- breakfast. Food and treats and chewies -- this is the last frontier I have to someday face with them. Sadey is so food-crazed that it's absolutely necessary to separate them for feedings. This may be a problem this weekend (more on that later), but for now, I can easily keep her feeding station far away from his. And I distract her until he is done.
My own breakfast? Leisurely and very nice.
Doggie day care next, a stop at the Edge to pick up misdirected mail, a few more errands, then home again, from where I call the city water people to tell them that my water at Sally's House tastes like you swallowed water in an over-chlorinated swimming pool. (To their credit, they came over and immediately agreed. Another work in progress!)
My job for the rest morning is to get ready for tomorrow. I very reluctantly agreed to participate in Sparrow's school International Day. I did it two years ago (the school organizes this event biennially) and I thought it was incredibly taxing then. Sparrow begged for me to do it again, even though it would really be just repeating the same stuff and many kids will have heard me do it back then (though of course, I'm sure they will have remembered none of it). But since Sparrow is stuck being the middle child who rarely has me pandering to just his requests, I agreed. Truly an act of grandmotherly love, because really, it is for me an incredibly tough act. What it entails is doing short (maybe 3-5 minutes) interactive enthusiastic, engaging, hyped up presentations on Poland to small groups of kids over and over and over and over again from when the school opens until the noon hour. There are parents/grandparents who stay calm and measured, there are those who show videos and do other kid-focused things to represent their country. My act on Poland is successful only if I put on my highest levels of enthusiasm. I am dead when it's over.
This year, Snowdrop is no longer in Sparrow's school but she asked if she could help me with the presentations. This was up to Sparrow of course. He was enthusiastic: grandmother and sister both? He is super excited.
When I pick them up from school, we do not go back to Sally's House. Instead I stay with them in their own home, because in the late afternoon I have to go and set up my Poland poster boards. This, too, seems to be exciting for the kids. I take them with me. We get to work. And watching their enthusiasm makes me feel just a little guilty for feeling so reluctant to do my schtick.
Home for them, pick up the dogs, then home for us.
As I walk these two mutts (one at a time), I think about the conversation I had with Aimee, the doggie daycare and training school director. I told her that everything concerning the integration of Sadey is not only on track, but right now -- exceeding my expectations. (True, given our rough start, my expectations weren't that high!) All good right now. But Henry himself is not good. And it has nothing to do with Sadey. With her, he is now calm and even playful. But the problem with seeing strangers outside is too severe to ignore.
Aimee tells me that the trouble with these Texas dogs brought up to Wisconsin is that so many of them (most of them?) have a genetic mix that includes all the guarding and herding breed characteristics. Pit bull. Rottweiler. Doberman. These are serious guard dogs. People in Texas like that and they've let their dogs mix and often run free. Aimee loves Henry (and he loves her right back), but she tells me that it is unfortunately in his genes to love his people deeply and to raise hell when he sees strangers nearby. Can he be trained to let go of this? It's a maybe. With serious training and meds, he can improve. He is just at an age when we have a chance to redirect him, but it will be hard going.
In the meantime, I am so glad we are out of the apartment situation. The dog parks may have to be off limits for now as well, unless his vet wants to up his meds. I'm just not comfortable with him barking close up to strangers. What about his exercise needs though! Well, there are solutions -- would you believe it, there are expensive solutions for so many of the dog issues! Apparently there is a network of private large fenced yards that you can rent by the hour -- some as big as 3 acres -- to let your dog loose in that private space so they can get their exercise. When I told Ed this, he was of course full of alternatives (rather than have me pay between $7 and $15 per hour for a yard rental): ask chat gpt what to do! Get a muzzle! Why does my beloved Ed always avoid the advice of experts? I thanked him for the suggestions and booked a consult with a reactive dog trainer and made a note to discuss this further with Henry's vet. Oh, and I downloaded the Sniffspot App in case the dog parks aren't working for my boy.
Tomorrow is my super charged day. You'd think we'd all retire early. It never works that way, does it...
with so much love...
