(20 points to whomever gets that movie reference!)

We adopted Ben just under a year ago.  We've both grown rather fond of the big doofus, even if he does damn near eat us out of house and home.  He's 2 1/2 now, which is apparently adolescence in dog years.

And boy howdy, does he show it.

A few months into winter this year, Ben picked up the unenviable habit of chasing cars.  He's also big on lying in the middle of the road, which is obviously problematic.  However, it's the car chasing that got him into trouble.  He doesn't chase all cars, but is definitely big on diesel trucks, which makes sense; his previous owners had one.  Ben's love of hanging out in the road has been reinforced by some of our neighbors, who will drive by, roll down the window, and reach out to pet him.  We love that our neighbors like him, but it's a bit of a problem.

Especially when I'm down in Denver and I get a call from Greg telling me that Animal Control has stopped by, due to complaints from some of the neighbors about Ben and his car-chasing habits.  Even more so when Ben chases the woman's car down the driveway. *sigh*  Hello, written warning.

The snow was too high to put him anywhere without some major overhaul, so we let him run for a few days.  Until, that is, I was awakened by the joint sounds of Ben barking and a car horn honking like mad.  My decision to pen him up was only reinforced by me calling Ben, having him turn to look at me and wag his tail, and then him joyfully taking off to chase another truck. 

I managed to wrangle open the snowed-in gate to the upper pen and tried to entice Ben to come in.  The closest I could get was the opposite side of the driveway, but when I tried to grab the scruff of his neck to lead him in, Ben just dropped to the ground and went limp.  Cue me dragging a completely passive 150-lb-or-so dog across the driveway, up a hill, and into the upper pen.  It was one hell of a workout, and Ben was filthy by the time I was done.

So, for the last couple of months, Ben has been relegated to the upper pen.  We know we need to get a trainer out here to work with him on collar and leash (at the very least), but the last several months have been apeshit 'round here.  And we're broke. *sigh*  So Ben has been hanging out in the pen, barking waaaay too much for our enjoyment, but otherwise doing just fine.

Last week, I got a call from a concerned neighbor regarding Ben and his lack of shelter.  I told her that we had plans to put our lean-to back up, but we'd had to wait until the snow melted enough.  I mentioned that I'd gone out there that morning, but the wood was too saturated with water for me to lift--and that I was leaving that afternoon to go to Denver for several days.  In addition, I told her about Ben's heavy double coat, that his breed was intended as an outdoor working dog, and really, he was just fine.  We'd had the bottom door of the hay shed open for him during the winter when it was really cold, but it was barely getting below freezing these nights.

However, when I got back from Denver, we'd received another call from Animal Control.  As suspected, the current complaints were about Ben's lack of shelter.  Greg tried to tell her about Ben being a working guard dog, to which she wanted to know what, exactly, he was guarding.  We also told her that we couldn't keep him in the lower pen with the goats or on the deck because he could jump out, so we kept him in the one place we could.  Despite the fact that Ben is the exact same mix-breed of dog that guards the sheep in the high country all winter long, Animal Control was only mollified at the promise of a shelter (horses, cattle, and sheep on open range don't get shelter, and Ben's got a longer, thicker double coat than any two of those species combined).  We got the lean-to up earlier this week, and I've seen him use it exactly once.  Most of the time, even when offered bare earth, Ben is perfectly content to lay in the snow.

And then there's the barking.  When I was in Denver, I picked up a static shock anti-bark dog collar after much consultation with a trainer and pet store manager.  I trimmed a little of the hair at Ben's throat this morning and fastened the collar on.  It sort-of worked for maybe 5 minutes, but has been fuck-all useful the rest of the day.  Looks like I'm going to have to break out the beard trimmer and have a go at the thick hair around his neck in order to get the collar to fit properly.

I wonder if I can get away with using Greg's. o.O

Ben

6/1/2010

4 Comments

 
Well, he barked all night last night.  And I do mean ALL night. *facepalm*  The sleep last night?  Not so good.

Let him out of the pen today--one of the does was bullying Ben and preventing him from getting to his food.  He took off and went a-roaming.

Ben came back.  I put a leash on him.  He laid down.  I pulled on the leash a little bit, and he went completely apeshit, whining and pulling and thrashing like mad.  I let go, and he ran off.  Poor Ben.

He came back later this evening and hung out in the lower pen.  I went down, fed him a giant Milk-bone, and unclipped the leash (which he was laying on).  I closed the gate behind me and went back to the house.

Cue the barking and mournful howling.  I quickly got the point.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In separate news, the arboreal bukkake that is the sarvisberry devil-spawn is frickin' killing me.  I think I'm going to have to step the neti pot up to twice a day.  Oh, yeah, and go see Tim.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pre-selling the turkeys is going well.  I've gotten four down payments and several other people who have inquired that I need to follow up with.  Now I just need to build the shed for them in the next 3-4 weeks.  Yikes!
 
The past several days, we've been awakened by a territorial robin.  Said robin starts flying into the window to attack his reflection at, oh, 6 am or so.  This means that as Greg and I are lying in bed, cuddling and getting ready to start our day, that the background music sounds very much like:

*silence*
*bonk*
*silence*
*BONK*
*silence*
*flutterflutterscrape*
*silence*
*BONK*
*silence*
*taptap*
*silence*
*softbonk*
*silence*
*BONK*

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be much that will dissuade this avian frat boy.  Rolling the window shade up and down only makes him fly off for a few minutes, as does Greg running outside naked and throwing wood chips at him.  (Can you guess who has a higher tolerance for this sort of thing? *grin*)  I've resorted to taping strips of ripped-up sheet on one of the windows, but that doesn't completely stop the robin.  Not to mention, we have a LOT of windows around the house. *sigh*

Our other feathered attacker is a woodpecker, who also likes to start doing his thing at about 6 am.  So, between the gentle *BONK* noises coming from the windows, we have Gatling gun noises coming loudly from the roof above our bed.  It sounds like we're being strafed.


Who said living in the country was quiet? *laugh*
 
Productive day today.  I tilled the garden, including burying shrimp shells and stripped bones left over from stock.  Watching the ground steam was a trip and a half.  Dumped ashes on top.  Greg mucked out the shed and reloaded it.  Even with two applications of sunscreen and a hat, my face still wound up red.

We rearranged the rabbit hutches and I nailed backing onto them (feed bags and a vinyl-backed tablecloth) to keep the rabbit urine from eating into, oh, the side of the house.  Scooped up all the rabbit poo from under the hutch and pitched it into the compost.  Discovered 3-4 baby wasps' nests in the new hutch; promptly cleaned those out.  Moved the butchering station to the back of the house near the hose outlet.

Discovered that the old turkey pen had become OMG Lord of the Flies. o.O  Seriously.  That shit was gnarly as all hell.  Decided that we need to get out the flamethrower and bake the fuckers out.  That will have to wait for another day, though.  In airing out the turkey coops (which, sadly, had not been cleaned since their last inhabitants), I discovered . . . a bucket of feathers, guts, and blood.  From Thanksgiving, when the last three turkeys met their match.  *sigh*  I remember telling Uncle Mark to just chuck the bucket into the coop and we'd deal with it later.  Y'know, after it froze.  Well, it froze.  And then unfroze.  I have no idea how much of the fly issue is due to rancid turkey entrails and how much is due to rancid turkey excrement. *hangs head*  I did give the contents of the blood bucket a good burial and rinsing, though.

Since we started up the fire pit with the first bonfire of the season, we decided to invite several people over for dinner.  About half bailed, meaning that we wound up with the boys:  Pete, Kevin, and Casey.  The latter two had been trimming horse hooves all day and Casey had been checking on whether or not two of his mares had caught.  One of his gloves broke during the process.

For what it's worth, you do not test a mare's fertility by going in vaginally.  Nope, it's back-door rectal lovin' all the way, baby!  Casey brings up this topic of conversation as we're sitting around the bonfire at dinner, then proceeds to smell his hand.  There was also a significant amount of gas passed, and I was the recipient of some serious reverb. *facepalm*

But hey!  This wasn't just dinner--it was dinner and a SHOW.  Utilizing the bed of Kevin and Casey's pickup, we chucked the rabbits in the back and watched 'em fuck.  Errr . . . "breed," that is.  Casey had mentioned earlier that in his 4-H childhood he had bred rabbits; without knowing the ins and outs (so to speak) of reproduction, he noted that rabbits breeding smelled like French toast.

Yeah, I know.

There were plenty of jokes made about French toast, getting pregnant from sex in the back seat, and much cheering on of the rabbits.  The male (Thutmose) is perhaps a bit dense, as he kept aiming for Hatasu's head, or side, or back, or anywhere that wouldn't do any good.  He did successfully nail his daughter, the younger rabbit, two or three times.

Finally, at the end of the rabbit lovin', Thutmose curled up next to Hatasu and flopped down. (There were jokes made there, too, but Pete did point out that the rabbit had come something like seven times in the last twelve minutes, so we gave him a break.)  I climbed into the back of the truck to fetch out the rabbits and wound up with a damp wrist for my troubles.  Casey sniffed it in order to discern whether or not it truly smelled of French toast. (The answer, for those of you breathlessly awaiting, was No.)

We rounded out the night back in front of the bonfire again.  Greg tossed a few remnants of snow on top to tamp it out, and we all went our separate ways.  I sent leftovers home with Kevin and Casey, gave Pete's greyhound a farewell ear-tousle, and cleaned up from dinner.

A good beginning to spring, methinks. :)
 
Getting a lot of fox action lately.  Saw a pale blonde one trotting across the snow this morning.  I love having these guys nearby.

Spent a goodly portion of last night fantasizing about building the new turkey shed.  May have some feelers out for people who have more experience and who can help.  Wandered around the Milner Mall yesterday a bit and salivated over a set of windows from the Yacht Club.  They're already put together and would be great for a greenhouse.  Just gotta get all the scratch together to get this going.  *sigh*

Gotta get the turkeys lined up too.  At this point, looks like the mixed run is sold out 'til June.  Just gotta get everybody on board and go from there, I guess.  Money, too.  Argh.

Thinking lots more about goat possibilities.  Kevin and Casey are getting rid of all of theirs, and Greg and I talked last night about the possibility of doing goat milk next summer.  He was supportive of the idea and I know there's a high demand, especially for value-added products like cheese.  Just gotta hang onto the commercial kitchen.  Looking to do boarding swap with Brandie as a possibility.

SPRINGSPRINGSPRINGSPRINGSPRING!! *boing!*
 
Dang.  I go away to Denver for five days (where the weather was in the '70s, thankyouverymuch) and come back to Much Less Snow.  This is especially of note once you consider that we got nearly two feet of the white stuff last Monday.
 
Well, Mother Nature's sure playing her tricks on us.  The previous two days' sunny weather has been dramatically replaced by a spring storm.  Looking forward to getting home and holing up this afternoon.
 
Today is gorgeous, but I have slush frozen in my wheel wells, kitty pawprints all over my car, and the dog has rolled in something unspeakable.  Luckily, he was due for a bath today anyway--it's our volunteer day at the hospital!
 
It's been a busy couple of weeks 'round here, what with houseguests and traveling to Denver and whatnot.  Zoomed to Fort Collins on Friday to see Joel Salatin speak, which was interesting, then back up the next morning on two hours of sleep to get my friend to the airport in time.  Still haven't quite recovered, I don't think.

But it it SPRING!  Time change, then equinox, then funky Colorado weather.  Today--gorgeous.  Yesterday--gorgeous but cold.  Friday--winter storm with snow going sideways as the wind howled.  Yeah.  Never dull around here.

The critters are feeling it, too.  We've had a plethora of dead skunks and the occasional dead 'coon, making trips into town a rather . . . aromatic venture.  Had some food outside in the Great Outdoor Freezer, which a raccoon decided would be good midnight snackin'.  The cat, apparently, is territorial when it comes to these sorts of intrusions and proceeded to yowl and mrrrrrr at said 'coon until Greg came and chased it off.

Tonight is dinner with our friend Joann, the woman who got us started on turkeys last year.  I think we may split a mixed-breed run of heritage turkeys with her this year, now that she's in a place where she can have them.  Need to put together my article for The Local and clean out her cages to get them back to her tonight, too, so off I go!