Ears.... all Ears.... Dakota update

Dakota Update.....

The little fuzz ball is no longer a little fuzz ball. He sure is growing and looking like a real puppy.


We take a walk almost every morning and meet all our friends and neighbors walking their dogs. This is Dakota’s favorite time of the day since he gets to see all his buddies, both 2 legged and 4 legged. 

Dakota has to be carrying something in his mouth all the time. Any stick will do – or a leaf – or even a rock.

One morning after a good rain we took a walk. The angleworms were out on the street. Dakota looked so funny when he picked up an angleworm and continued on his walk – the worm swinging back and forth with every step he took.

Even though Dakota has captured our hearts and the hearts of everyone in The Gardens, he must realize that the house he lives in does not belong to him exclusively. He must realize that he has to share the house not only with Irene and Me, but also with Pudge.

Pudge is the cat – well named from the beginning when she was just a kitten. As she grew in stature and girth, I stared to call her “Porkchop” - Soon the name “Sumo” seemed more appropriate. Now some of our neighbors have been calling her “Buddha.” I think you get the picture; the cat is huge - tipping the scales at just under 15 lbs.

During the day, Pudge has her favorite place for catnaps, right on our bed. Since the dog and the cat must share the same dwelling, it was best to get them acquainted. Here is “Pudge, The Monster Cat” when she got caught in the middle of a hisssss.......

 

This was not the least bit daunting to little Dakota, and he decided that the cat would make a dandy “chew toy.”

Soon Pudge was at least tolerating this little pest and trying to make the best out of a bad situation. 

It seems like it was only a couple of days before the cat and dog actually started playing together. Dakota has his house, and Pudge loves to jump on top of his house and tease him.  What a zoo we have.

Stay tuned…. More Dakota antics will be coming your way.......

Man's Best Friend

Man’s best friend….

….is such an overused expression, but those of us who have the companionship of a dog relate to this expression in a very personal way.

A dog owner knows that “A dog is the only animal that loves you more than he loves himself…..”

Irene and I have been blessed with the constant companionship of Gizmo for almost 12 years. I say “Constant Companionship” because Gizmo is a Papillion (French for butterfly – the ears).

A expression Papillion owners are all familiar with is “Owning a Papillion is never having to go to the bathroom alone again….” This is so true since a Papillion is a very social dog and will follow you anywhere…. even into the bathroom.

All good things must come to an end, and so it was with Gizmo. She had been doing poorly for several days and the Vet said it was just a matter of time for the poor little girl.

Irene was visiting her grandchildren for a couple of weeks. I called her in Wall, South Dakota and told her that it was time for Gizmo to leave us. There were tears on both ends of the phone that morning as a feeling of loneliness and emptiness filled our hearts. Irene and I were not even together to comfort each other.

About 2 hours later, Irene called back….

“What would you think about a little boy?” she asked. She explained that she had been checking the paper in the Crossville area for several months for Papillions, knowing that Gizmo was not doing well.

“Tim, it’s fate.” She exclaimed. “I just opened the local paper here in Wall South Dakota and in the classified section is a picture of the cutest little Papillion you ever saw. I think it is meant to be and I have an appointment to meet the breeder tomorrow morning.”

And so it was that "Dakota" became part of our family. He will never take the place of Gizmo, nor should he- we will have fond memories of Gizmo for all times.

Was it too soon to get another Papillion? Not at all. “Dakota” took the heartache out of loosing Gizmo – I would call Irene a couple of times a day to get a “Dakota” update. She took pictures of our new baby on her cell phone and sent them to me. I was in love with the little guy before I ever met him.

This was the first picture I got of Dakota. Irene was holding him in one hand when she took the picture.

Of course, everyone in The Gardens soon heard about our situation (The Gardens is one big family – no secrets) and wanted to know when the new baby was coming home.

Dakota has been home now a little over a month. In such a short time he has taken over the house and captured the hearts of everyone in The Gardens.

Check back soon to get a puppy fix and your "Dakota" update.....

Feeding the calves as a young boy…..

For me “Life in The Slow Lane” means taking the time to do things that interest me.

I enjoy writing and like to share my stories so when a ‘Memoir Writing Class’ was offered at the church, I eagerly joined. I would like my children and grandchildren to share my life in a simpler, more innocent time.

I recall feeding the calves as a young boy…..


The Bully Calf
by: Tim Mangan

Our home in Cadott was just on the edge of town and must have been part of a farm at one time, hence the big red barn out in back of the house. Dad owned a feed mill in town and made the most of this barn. He would buy calves that were only a week or so old and raise them for veil.

Since I stood head and shoulders above the calves (I was not very old at the time), Dad figured that I was big enough to take care of them. My job was to feed and water and add fresh straw to keep their bedding clean and dry.

As soon as we got the calves Dad would have the local Veterinarian come out to vaccinate them. The Vet would first feel the definition of the muscles in the neck. When he was satisfied with the correct muscle, he rubbed disinfectant on the injection site and pulled out the largest syringe that I had ever seen in my entire life. This instrument of torture must have been a foot long. Add to that; the needle, which was about the size of a 10 inch spike. I tried not to watch while with one deft motion, he stuck the gigantic needle deep into the neck of the calf and pushed the plunger. The calf did not react in the least and did not even flinch. I was convinced that calves have no feeling in their neck.

Feeding the calves was always an adventure. Since they were so young, they needed a milk supplement at least twice a day. The powdered formula was mixed with warm water that I carried from the house and dumped into a ‘nursing bucket’ – a special bucket with a large rubber nipple that hung on the side of the calf pen.

When a calf is nursing, the calf will butt the mother’s udder. This is a natural process that gets the milk flowing and doesn’t hurt the cow in the least. This instinct followed through to the ‘nursing bucket’. I had to stand there and hold the bucket on the railing of the calf pen. If I was not vigilant, the bucket was butted off the railing and I would have to start all over.

One particular batch of calves proved to be a real problem for me. One of the calves was several inches taller than the others. This animal had a size and weight advantage over the others and used this advantage to the maximum at feeding time.

We only had one nursing bucket so I would make sure that all of the calves took turns. This was usually not a problem, except with this particular calf. And…. he sure loved the milk supplement. Loved it so much he would bully the others, push them away from the bucket and drink their share.

He was a monster of a calf, standing almost as tall as me (I was a young boy at the time). He would lower his head and his hoofs would paw the ground in a menacing way. Bellowing and snorting, smoke would pour out of his nostrils while lightning flashed in his eyes. One whip with his gigantic tail would raise welts on the skin of any opponent. Yes, this was Beelzebub reincarnate; indeed a beast to be reckoned with.

It was difficult enough having an extra hungry calf, but stealing the nutrition from the others was unacceptable. And too much of a good thing gave him diarrhea. Words should not describe the utter horror of working in the same pen alongside Beelzebub when he had a bad case of diarrhea.

When he was in a feeding frenzy I had my hands full. I tried feeding him first, thinking that he would get full and not steal the other’s milk, but no …. this just gave him a taste of the good stuff and whetted his appetite for more. I tried hanging the pail in the corner of the pen, and then jumping into the pen and blocking him while another calf got his ration. This seemed to work and I thought I was onto something.

The calves were growing rapidly and in only a week or so my blocking technique was no longer effective. To make matters worse, one of the calves was not developing at the normal rate –he needed his supplement more than ever.

One day the small calf was just starting the nursing pail when Beelzebub, deciding he was extra hungry; came in and pushed him away. This was the start of a battle between man and beast – or I should say ‘boy and beast’.

Pound for pound Beelzebub probably outweighed me, putting me at a disadvantage from the start.

He bullied his way to the pail – I pushed him away. He came back again to claim his prize and I pushed him away again. I was getting angrier all the time. When he came back a third time, I screamed at him and beat on his back with my fists. I was in tears I was so helpless and angry.

On his fourth assault, and in a fit of desperation and rage, I bit him. Yes, …..I bit him. I bit him right on the back of the neck. Biting had always worked when I was angry with my older brother. I bit Beelzebub as hard as I could and in return simply got a mouth full of foul tasting, wiry calf hair. My biting attack did not bother him in the least, reinforcing my belief that calves have no feeling in their neck.

What's it like to get old?

I received this as a forwarded email. Some things are just too beautiful to keep to yourself, so enjoy the thoughts.

The question:
What's it like to get old?

The Answer:

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not makingmy bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers,or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever,but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day(if I feel like it).

MAY OUR FRIENDSHIP NEVER COME APART ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART! MAY YOU ALWAYS HAVE A RAINBOW OF SMILES ON YOUR FACE.

Electronic security, GPS and Cell Phone

Thanks to Tim Wilson from The Gardens....

This gives us something to think about with all our new electronic technology.

GPS.......

A couple of weeks ago a friend told me that someone she knew had their car broken into while they were at a football game. Their car was parked on the green which was adjacent to the football stadium and specially allotted to football fans. Things stolen from the car included a garage door remote control, some money and a GPS which had been prominently mounted on the dashboard.

When the victims got home, they found that their house had been ransacked and just about everything worth anything had been stolen.

The thieves had used the GPS to guide them to the house. They then used the garage remote control to open the garage door and gain entry to the house. The thieves knew the owners were at the football game, they knew what time the game was scheduled to finish and so they knew how much time they had to clean out the house. It would appear that they had brought a truck to empty the house of its contents.

Something to consider if you have a GPS - don't put your home address in it. Put a nearby address (like a store or gas station) so you can still find your way home if you need to, but no one else would know where you live if your GPS were stolen.

MOBILE PHONES...

I never thought of this.......This lady has now changed her habit of how she lists her names on her mobile phone after her handbag which contained her cell phone, credit card, wallet... etc...was stolen.

Twenty minutes later when she called her hubby, from a pay phone telling him what had happened, hubby says 'I received your text asking about our Pin number and I've replied a little while ago.'
When they rushed down to the bank, the bank staff told them all the money was already withdrawn. The thief had actually used the stolen cell phone to text 'hubby' in the contact list and got hold of the pin number. Within 20 minutes he had withdrawn all the money from their bank account.

Moral of the lesson: Do not disclose the relationship between you and the people in your contact list.
Avoid using names like Home, Honey, Hubby, Sweetheart, Dad, Mom, etc....And very importantly, when sensitive info is being asked through texts, CONFIRM by calling back.Also, when you're being text by friends or family to meet them somewhere, be sure to call back to confirm that the message came from them. If you don't reach them, be very careful about going places to meet 'family and friends' who text you.

Meals on Wheels

Every Tuesday I am a volunteer driver for "Meals on Wheels". This is a rewarding experience and not without a laugh or two. The following was posted on the kitchen wall where the drivers pick up their meals.

"Heavenly Meals on Wheels...."

After a long and difficult life the old barn cat passed to a better place. He was greeted at the Pearly Gates by St. Peter.

“Welcome to Heaven” said St Peter. “You have been a good cat all your life. Is there anything special you would like in Heaven?”

“Why yes,” answered the cat. “All my life I have had to sleep on the hard barn floor. I would like a soft pillow to sleep on and a blanket to keep me warm.”

“Done.” Replied St. Peter and the old barn cat found himself lying on a soft pillow lovingly covered with a warm blanket.

The next day two mice were greeted at the Pearly Gates.

“Welcome to Heaven” said St Peter. “You have been good mice all your lives. Is there anything special you would like in Heaven?”

“Why yes,” answered the mice. “All our lives we have had to run very fast to avoid the old barn cat. We are exhausted. We would like roller skates to get around in Heaven.”

“Done.” Replied St. Peter and the mice found themselves wearing a fine set of roller skates.

A couple of days later St. Peter checked back with the old barn cat.

“How is everything in Heaven?” he asked.

“Everything is just grand,” purred the cat. “I have my old friends to play with, a fluffy pillow and blanket to keep me warm and comfortable, and the ‘Meals on Wheels’ are simply delicious.”

Tennessee Fall Colors - The Cherohala Skyway

We were sure looking forward to the Cherohala Skyway bus trip with the church. At the last minute I got a call and the trip was canceled. Oh well, we decided to go by ourselves.

Prepared with our trusty GPS and a Tennessee road map, we started out. The starting point of the Cherohala Skyway is in Tellico Plains, TN which is about 75 miles SE of Crossville. From there the Skyway twists and turns its way to Robbinsville, NC some 50 miles away.

Arriving in Tellico Plains we scouted out the Visitor Information Center and armed ourselves with pamphlets and maps of the area and the Cherohala Skyway. It was going on lunch time so we pulled into the Nut-N-Fancy Family Restaurant. This turned out to be a great place for lunch. They featured inside and outdoor seating. The menu was just plain “Down to Earth” with very reasonable prices. I had a Reuben with homemade potato chips that they fried up fresh in the back kitchen. What a treat.

Our perky waitress was dressed in bib overalls, her pockets stuffed with extra paper napkins and drinking straws. She turned out to be as much a tour guide as a waitress. She knew everything about Tellico Plains and the Chreohala Skyway and told us that the colors were just starting to change. The peak color would be in about two weeks and color at the higher elevations was more pronounced.

About fifteen minutes into our trip we came to the road leading to Bald River Falls. This is where the Bald River joins the Tellico River. Our waitress/tour guide recommended the scenic six mile side trip to the falls. It was well worth the side trip, the falls was indeed beautiful.

The Skyway drive was something to behold. The highest elevation was 5390 feet in North Carolina, offering spectacular views for miles.

Nearing the end of the Skyway we decided to head north around Lake Santeetla on NC 1134. This took us to Hwy 129 which we followed north to the infamous “Tail of the Dragon” – a stretch of road with 318 curves and hairpin turns in the eleven miles. “Tail of the Dragon” is a favorite for motorcycles and sports cars. We were passed several times (double yellow line) by daredevils riding their “crotch-rockets”.

Not all ends well. In the eleven mile stretch of road we came upon two accidents – both motorcycles. The first was someone who lost control and landed in the ditch (no injuries) but the second accident was not so lucky. He was lying on his back surrounded by his biker friends while they waited for the ambulance. Every year there are several fatalities on this stretch of road as crazy drivers cheat death and see how fast they can navigate “The Tail of the Dragon.”

On the way home we stopped at a BBQ restaurant for supper. We got home about 7:30 and got an enthusiastic “welcome home” from Gizmo and the two cats. We sure look forward to doing it again next year.

More photos at http://twitpic.com/photos/rvhomeyet