Edgo Levine: Eulogy for a Friend

Edgo was always smiling, and he had such a beautiful smile!

There are friends who come and go in your life, and then there are friends who leave their paw marks on your heart forever. Edgo was such a friend. We knew each other for many years. He was a sweet, energetic, protective Aussie who started with my children's other mother, but spent most of his life with my daughter and her family. He died on June 5, 2012, but lives on in great memories we all share of this wonderful dog.

My grandchildren saying goodbye to Edgo.

I first met Edgo as a puppy. He was full of energy and...fur! Edgo was the fuzziest, furriest dog I have ever known. I know Australian Shepherds are supposed to make great sheep dogs, but he actually resembled the sheep! He had the typical herding instincts as a puppy, nuzzling the children in the family, moving them from place to place, but he also had protective instincts that sometimes astounded me.

I have a rare form of arthritis that can sometimes be very severe. One afternoon, as I carried groceries into my daughters house from the car, my knees suddenly gave out from beneath me. The grocery sacks fell onto the counter, and I fell to the floor. Edgo ran into the kitchen and stood over my body, two legs on each side of my chest, his chin straight, eyes forward. I told him I was okay and he briefly lowered his head to lick me on the nose, then returned to his protective stance, waiting until my son-in-law found me and helped me up from the floor.

Edgo, always smiling!

When my daughter was pregnant with her oldest child, Edgo started sleeping beside her bed. This may not have been the best situation for my daughter as she was often kept awake by his scratching and snoring, but Edgo felt it was his job to protect her. No one instructed him to do this, but he knew something was different about my daughter. In his mind, he believed she was in a fragile state and needed to be protected, and that was his job. Night after night he followed her into the bedroom, curled up next to her side of the bed and stayed there until morning. From that time on, Edgo decided his place was by her side. During the day, he played with the children, followed my son-in-law around the yard as he did his chores, and cuddled with me when I stayed at their house for visits, but most of the time, he was by my daughter's side, protecting.

My granddaughter hugging Edgo.

Edgo was attacked by a large dog when he was a puppy and he did not get along with other dogs. He adored cats, and even played with them, but not dogs. It saddened me to think of the joy he could have had in his life if he had not been attacked as a puppy. With his energy and playful attitude, he would have made great friends at the dog park or a wonderful addition to a pack.

And oh my goodness did he have a playful attitude! Edgo loved to play with my grandchildren and watched over them as if they were his own children. He also loved to chase tennis balls. When I came for a visit, my grandchildren often put on plays or fashion shows and while I watched and took pictures I always had to keep one hand free to throw the ball to Edgo. He chased that ball for hours!

I still remember the first time I threw the ball and he didn't chase. Instead, he slowly walked over to my side and lay down at my feet. It was such a shock to me to recognize that he was growing old. In my mind, he was always a puppy. In my mind, he is still a puppy.

Edgo getting ready to crawl beneath the couch.

My daughter's home has a short set of stairs leading from the kitchen to the den. As he grew older, Edgo preferred to sleep in the living room beneath the lounger where it was cool, but if the kids and I got rowdy--and we always get rowdy--he would walk over to the top of the stairs to check on us. When I saw him looking down at us I stood at the bottom of the stairs and did my own version of the Temptation's song, "Papa was a Rolling Stone." I clapped my hands and rocked back and forth on my feet, singing, "Edgo was a rolling stone. Wherever he laid his paw was his home, and when he moved all he left us was a doggy bone..." As I sang my song, Edgo stepped from side to side, mimicking my movements, and howled as if he was singing. "Hey Momma!" I continued, and he hopped from foot to foot as if he was still a silly pup. "I heard Edgo was a dog of all trades! Chasing the tennis balls and begging to play! Momma I'm depending on you to tell us the truth!" I sang, and Edgo followed right along, rocking back and forth with that beautiful, captivating smile on his face.

When my grandchildren were younger, I often slept on the couch in the den so they could find me if they woke up in the middle of the night, even though my son-in-law built a bedroom for me in their home. Edgo liked to fall asleep by my side. Eventually, of course, he would trot up the stairs to check on my daughter and finish the evening snoring away beside her bed, but he liked to fall asleep by me, I think because he liked the never-ending petting that I'd grown used to having two labs--I have so many animals now that I often wake up in the middle of the night and find my hand moving on its own, petting whatever animal has crawled up onto my chest.

I am also a certified Reiki therapist and Edgo was a Reiki hound! He loved Reiki! If I sat down on the floor he ran to my side, roll onto his back and waited for the energy. If I had a child in my arms, he stayed on his back. He was patient. He would wait for his turn. If I scratched his belly or rubbed his head, he was fine with that, too, but what he really loved was Reiki. I did this often in his older years. We had something in common--arthritis--and I knew it helped him feel better. Most of the time, it put him to sleep, and he always slept with that sweet smile on his face.

That sweet Edgo smile!

Oh yes, dogs do smile. Edgo smiled often, especially when he was playing with the children. He also gave hugs. When I came into the house, he would run to my side then roll around on the floor waiting for his hug. I got down on my knees and wrapped my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. He wrapped his paws around my back, just like he was giving me a hug, and he always smiled. I believe animals have rights--not certain rights, but all rights, as humans have rights. The right to shelter, food, safety. I believe respect, compassion, and kindness is a right that all animals have simply because God created them. And most of all, I believe they have the right to be loved, and I love Edgo with all of my heart.

I planned my last visit because I knew it was getting close to Edgo's time to leave us and I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted to tell him how much I love him and how much his friendship and protection of my family meant to me.

Once I arrived, though, I realized I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I started searching the internet for alternative medicinal treatments and filled my daughter's refrigerator with pills with strange names and bottles of cod liver oil. My son-in-law stood silently by, shaking his head, but as man who served twice in Iraq, I think he understood this was part of the grieving process. He knew that I knew it was Edgo's time to go, and for the rest of the family the grieving process had already begun, but I was just beginning the denial, prayers, begging God to stop this from happening.

Eventually, I knew it was his time. I had to say goodbye, to hold him in my arms, hug him, rock him, sing to him, and tell him how much I loved him. So I did. Night after night, until I finally left for New Mexico, I held him in my arms and told him how much I loved him.

My granddaughter saying goodbye to Edgo.

When the phone call came from my son-in-law, I was standing in the desert with my chocolate labs, chihuahua, and Baby the Desert Dog, watching them run and play on a sandy road and watching the Sandia Mountains turn bright red as the sun slowly disappeared on the horizon. I looked at the buzzing phone. At first, I refused to answer. Then, as I watched my dogs running through the sagebrush, barking and playing, I realized how appropriate the moment was, with the sky blazing with color, the dogs behaving like little puppies, a cool breeze moving through my hair. Edgo would have loved this moment, I thought, and I realized he was with me. I knew who was on the phone, and I knew why he was calling.

I returned Aaron's call. "We spent a long time saying goodbye to Edgo before I took him to the vet," he told me. "I held him in my arms and it was very peaceful," my son-in-law said, but I knew this already, because Edgo was always at peace. He was well-loved, and he loved deeply in return.

Edgo has crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. He is no longer afraid of other dogs. Now he plays with them, chasing the yellow tennis balls through grassy meadows, barking to his heart's content, running like a puppy in the cool breeze at sunset. He is a young again, strong, vigorous, full of energy, compassion, and love. Oh, so much love. Yes, Edgo is happy, because he knows that some day he will see his family again. Until that time, we have our memories, and they are all good. 

Lost Dog in the Desert

Nearly two weeks ago, I was driving to the sandy hilltop to walk the dogs when I suddenly had the oddest feeling that I was going to see, well, a dog! The feeling was so strong that I slowed down my car when we reached the road leading to the hilltop and scanned the fields of sagebrush. Nothing. The feeling grew stronger as we approached our favorite spot and I started to panic, thinking that perhaps this was an instinctive warning that we were going to encounter a coyote.

The place where I walk my dogs, the sagebrush where Baby was hiding.

The feeling grew so strong that I decided to turn around and go somewhere else. As I started to back up my truck, a young brindle male shepherd mix crept out of the sagebrush and sat in front of my bumper. To say I was surprised is an understatement. He was thin, scraggly, and clearly asking for help.

Baby when he first crawled out of the sagebrush. 

I got out of the truck with our water bottle and dish and offered him some water, which he eagerly accepted. I then tried to pet him--he rolled over onto his back and let me scratch his belly. I decided to let Buddy--my friendly meter--out of the truck to see what would happen. Holly and Chewy escaped out the side door. Buddy and the new dog were instant friends. Holly and Chewy strangely ignored the new dog. They acknowledged that he was there, but acted as if he belonged there, as if he had always been there.

When Baby first met my husband he followed my husband everywhere, 

sitting at his feet with his head bowed down. I'm not sure what that meant. 

He is still very attached to my husband. 

It was a bit touchy for a few minutes. When Buddy would get too rowdy the new dog would run back into the sagebrush, then his head would pop up like the coyotes do and he would peek at us for a few minutes before rejoining us. I began to wonder how long he had been roaming the desert to learn this habit.

Buddy and the new dog ran up the road just as another car came down. I ran after them and told the man Buddy was my dog. "Is the other dog yours?" I asked. He hadn't seen another dog. We looked at the sagebrush on the side of the road and there he was, his little brown head peeking up over the top of the bushes. The young man had two labs in his truck and I had three dogs in mine, so we were in a bit of a pickle. He called the Humane Society, though, and they told us they would meet us at a local intersection...if we could convince the dog to come with us. The dog allowed us to clip Buddy's leash around his neck and the young man tried to drive with his arm out his car window as the dog ran alongside. It took quite a while as the leash kept slipping. We were concerned about lifting the dog into my truck bed in case he tried to bite, and had the same concern for putting him in one of the vehicles. We finally made it to the street corner and waited until 10 at night--no Humane Society.

I decided to take the dog home since I didn't have to work the next day. The dog readily accept everyone, even my husband, who was not eager to accept the dog. I started calling the dog Baby--it seemed to fit. He's very young. Baby spent the evening sitting at my husband's feet, staring up at him. I could feel his ribs, so I fed him slowly and he acted as if he was starving, and very grateful. He was wary of Chewy the chihuahua at first, but perfectly comfortable with the labs, (but who isn't?) That night, when I got up for water, I discovered Baby snuggled between the two labs, sleeping. I knew then that I would have trouble leaving the dog at the Humane Society.

I was right, I had trouble. Baby allowed me to put a collar on him and the leash and walked by my side as if he had been trained. He was very trusting and loving. At the Humane Society, they told me he was under a year old and a shepherd mix. He was a little undernourished, but otherwise healthy. They took our information and told me I had a week to find his owner, then I would either have to surrender him or he would legally be mine. If I surrendered him, they had five days to find an owner before he would be "put down." The kennel was full of lost and abandoned dogs. I took Baby with me, along with information on low cost shots and neutering clinics.

Baby and my husband walking in the desert. 

Baby is now a part of the family. He has a love/hate relationship with the cat, but the cat likes to smack him around, which isn't very nice. It took two years for Chewy to get used to having his forehead smacked! He lifted his leg a few times in the house, but no longer. He eats three times a day as opposed to the twice a day the older dogs eat, but he is more active and much younger, and still a bit skinny.

Baby chews on pieces of wood all the time--and he always sticks his butt up in the air. 

I finally bought Kongs for all of the dogs and he plays with his Kong all day long. 

He also sits, gives me paw, understands no, already knows his name, walks on a leash even when the other dogs are running circles around us in the desert, sleeps with the big dogs, loves to have his belly scratched, cuddles me, and smothers my face with kisses if I try to take a nap. I am going to try to teach him tricks--he is one of the smartest dogs I've seen. He gets a bit anxious when there is too much commotion, but we now have four dogs and a cat, so that's understandable. I rearranged the areas around the door to lessen traffic jams and moved the dog food so I no longer have four dogs hovering around me at feeding time. I also feed him outside and the other dogs inside. I am working on removing his food then giving it back to lessen food anxiety. He has no problems with looking me in the eyes or shyness of any kind. Last night, he had his first bath, and handled it beautifully.

Baby walking on a leash with my husband while the chocolate labs follow along.

When we first adopted him we kept him on a leash until he learn to stay with the pack.

Now, I walk him on a leash in the neighborhood every day so he gets continuous exercise

as he tends to get a bit chubby (he has a peanut butter addiction.) 

We are now at our limit for animals--in this area, the limit is five. I never imagined I would have this many animals in this small house, and when the grandchildren come, it will be a challenge--there will definitely be increased noise and activity, so the dogs will most likely be spending their time outside. The week has passed and he is now "our dog." Next week, he meets the vet for his shots. I believe things happen for a reason. I don't know why Baby came into our lives, but it is obvious to me he was meant to be here. He adores us, and we love him, too. My husband still grumbles about "all these dogs," but as I watch him walking Baby down the dusty trails at sunset, I know in my heart that he would never give one of them up.

Sleeping Dogs...

There's something so sweet about watching a dog sleep, the way they curl up tight and rest their heads on their paws. My dogs are very picky about their sleeping habits. The chocolate lab twins have padded beds, three of them, because Buddy is a very large dog. I line the beds up at night next to the couch--Holly likes to rest her back against the couch. The beds are covered with old sheets and blankets that I wash once a week because they love the smell of clean sheets. Who doesn't?

In the summertime, the blankets cover the beds and when it's time to sleep at night, I tuck the dogs in with the sheets. In the wintertime the sheets cover the beds and the dogs are tucked in with their blankets. Buddy likes to have his head covered and Holly likes to have the sheet tucked in tight around her back.

Buddy and Holly. That's Buddy you see with his head sticking up beneath the blanket. 

I'm not sure when this happened, my husband and I originally agreed that no animals would be allowed in our bed, but we now share our bed with two--Niblet the giant black cat and Chewy the chihuahua. Chewy is a fair weather friend. If I'm taking too long to get ready for bed, he slides up next to my husband, wiggles his way beneath my husband's arm and closes his eyes. Most of the time, though, he waits for me then wiggles his way beneath the blanket. He curls into a ball with his back against my stomach.

Chewy refusing to get out of bed. 

The cat used to wait for everyone to settle, then he would make himself comfortable somewhere around my husband's legs, trapping my husband so he could not move. Niblet is now 15 years old, though, and seems to be having trouble getting up onto our tall bed, so my husband moved a chair next to the bed. At first, Niblet used the chair to climb into bed, but he's now decided he prefers to curl up on the seat of the chair to sleep. This makes it difficult for Chewy who frequently wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water--I keep a bowl on the floor of the master bath. Chewy has no problem jumping down, he just leaps over the cat and the chair, but he can't jump back up! The cat is on the chair, the chair blocks most of my side of the bed, and my husband stretches out along his side of the bed, so I am often awakened in the middle of the night to a soft "yip," letting me know that Chewy needs a helping hand to get back onto the bed.

Why does Chewy wake up so often in the middle of the night? Chewy has frequent dog-mares. Chewy was abandoned near our property in Texas--five acres of forest land surrounded by vast acres of the same. He appeared at our home during a thunderstorm. We were later told that he had tried to seek help at the home of many of our neighbors who chased him away. No offense to my neighbors, but he was a tiny, helpless pup at the time and I cannot imagine turning my back on an animal begging for help, but that's the story we were told.

Chewy

I don't know how long Chewy was roaming the forests looking for a home, but it may have been days, perhaps weeks. He is now solid muscle with a shiny, healthy coat, but when he appeared in our driveway, he was tiny, thin, and his coat was dirty. I can only imagine what happened to him before he arrived at our house, and I do not imagine his life in the forest was easy.

Our other animals have dreams, too. The chocolate twins were attacked by a pack of coyotes once and suffered severe injuries. Holly was bit three times on the stomach by something--the vet believed it was a brown recluse spider, but the local university vet clinic thought it was baby rattlesnakes. We had 35 acres on the Colorado prairies at the time so either one is a possibility. She was so sick the vet sent her home to die. Her belly was black from her chin to her tail. I was desperate and determined to keep her alive, and my daughter was helping me. She eventually found a natural treatment on the internet, a "draw" using flaxseed meal, lavender oil and activated charcoal. I used a paint brush to paint her chest with the mix every 15 minutes for three days before pink started to show around the edges of her stomach. I did not sleep for three days, holding her head on my lap, gently washing her chest, then repainting it with a fresh batch of charcoal. After seven days, only a small circle of black remained. She now has three small scars, and our vet sells activated charcoal in her office.

Buddy sleeping.

Holly Sleeping

Buddy was hit by our truck. He saw my husband coming home from work and took off running down the hill. He darted out from between two trees just as my husband turned into our driveway. The truck hit him softly, but sent him sprawling across the pavement, which scraped the skin from his belly. He was bedridden in serious pain for two weeks. I am assuming these are the sources of my dog's dog-mares, but to be honest, I don't know. They don't speak English.

Our cat has cat-mares. He was abandoned in a dumpster as a kitten and rescued by my daughter's friends, but he was so young! Is it possible he still fears abandonment and dreams of that hot, dark, metal box? I don't know. He used to sneak out of the house (I only have indoor cats) and tease the neighbor's dog by prancing back and forth on the fence when he was a kitten. He is a Maine Coon and has a long, thick, fluffy tail. The dog must have nabbed the tail because he came into the house without any fur on the last half of the tail. His fur grew back, and he stopped sneaking out of the house, but is it possible he still dreams of the near-loss of his tail?

The FYI section in the February 2012 issue of Popular Science attempts to answer the question "Do Animals Dream?." According to the author, Kaitlin Miller, dogs actually go through the same sleep stages as humans, "only faster." Miller refers to research by Stanley Coren, psychology professor at the University of British Columbia and author of The Intelligence of Dogs.

Research has shown that dogs enter REM sleep, or dream sleep, within 20 minutes. I have seen this in my chocolate labs when they lie down at my feet, their limbs and chins draped across each other's bodies looking comfortable and peaceful, then suddenly one of them will start twitching and softly "woofing" as if he or she is "chasing bunnies" as we call it. My chocolate labs are very large dogs, even for labs. They are not overweight, but tall, and each weighs nearly 90 pounds. According to Coren's research, large dogs dream longer, though he does not understand why.

Coren also states that the dreams of little dogs come faster, and they dream more frequently. My chihuahua sleeps on my bed, on my lap, or beside me on the couch, so I have the opportunity to observe his sleep habits more often. When we first rescued him, as I said before, he had been abandoned in the forests of Texas. When he was young, I noticed that he often appeared to be dreaming that he was being chased. I had to wake him carefully because he often woke up frightened. Now, two years later, his dreams are sometimes more peaceful, but he still has those moments when he whimpers or cries in his sleep.

Coren's research also showed that infants of all species dream more often than adults, and I wonder why? One would think they would dream less as they would have less experiences to recall, or perhaps there is an answer to a mystery in this discovery, as well. What do infants dream about? If, as some psychologists claim, dreams are metaphorical, a way that we work out our day to day problems, then why do infants dream?

Another interesting aspect of Coren's research shows that insects and fish do not experience REM sleep, but some birds do, and all mammals. Finches, Coren claims, dream about the melodies of their songs, which is a lovely thought, in my opinion. Rats often replay the mazes they have run through during tests. Again, this piques my interests--how did Coren figure that out?

Coren suggested the possibility that reptiles might experience REM sleep because many scientists believe human dream processes might be "a holdover form our reptilian brains." Of course, this also draws on the question of whether or not one believes in evolution or creationism.

For the most part, animal dreams, like human dreams, remain a mystery, but there is something about a whimpering, sleeping dog that tugs at my heart. I do not know if he or she is dreaming of a fun romp through the woods or being chased by coyotes and I would rather gently wake the dog up than take the chance that he or she is reliving a bad experience.

Buddy and Holly Cuddling

Devil's Backbone and Coyote Ridge in Larimer County, Colorado

I just returned from a vacation in Colorado with my grandchildren. We hiked the Devil's Backbone and Coyote Ridge in Loveland and searched for robins in the park, which was easy to do since all of the robins in the country seem to be flocking to Colorado right now!

My grandchildren hiking with me at Coyote Ridge.

Devil's Backbone is about two miles west of town. It is part of Larimer County's Open Space project and available for family hikers, bicyclists, horseback riders--you can even bring your dogs! There are bridges, picnic tables, rest areas, and displays to explain the geological details of the area. There are many trails and a few are more than appropriate for little children. My two oldest grandchildren are six and four and we easily made it to the top. Much of the hike is flat trail, but the views are awesome! There is also a mated pair of red tailed hawks that returns every year and since this is nesting time, they put on quite a show for hikers while we were there.

It is also butterfly and bug time. Of course, everyone knows it's best not to hike with scented hair products, soaps, or perfumes on your body, but the bugs really aren't that bad. We had fun watching an army of red ants working on their home--a few feet downhill. Didn't want to get too close! We also made friends with dozens of butterflies that seemed to follow us along the trail.

The Devil's Backbone refers to a series of rock formations along the mountain top that really do resemble a backbone. The focal point is supposedly the rock formation the features the "keyhole," which you can see to the right, but honestly, I think they're all beautiful.

Devil's Backbone. Photo by Darla Sue Dollman.

To find Devil's Backbone, travel two miles west of the intersection of Wilson and Eisenhower in Loveland. You can see the Devil's Backbone from many areas in town and it's so popular that there is a sign instructing residents how to find other open space areas if the parking lot is full--if the lot is full, the area is full to capacity. However, we have visited dozens of times in all seasons, all times of day, and although it is always busy, it is never full to capacity.

The children were not quite ready to call it quits, so we moved on to Coyote Ridge, another one of their favorite hiking spots. Coyote Ridge is a natural area available for public use in Larimer County and a bit more rustic. It is next to Taft Hill and popular with bicyclists. It is filled with wildlife and great for hiking and biking.

Prairie Dog at Coyote Ridge. Photo by Darla Sue Dollman.

We've never made it into the hills. We walk the flat trail to the prairie dog village and listen to the prairie dogs chatter. Scientists now know prairie dogs have a unique language. They even have different sounds used to warn that a man is coming and that a man is coming with a gun! (I will explain this in another post as prairie dogs are one of my favorite rodents.)

Once, as we stood listening, a cottontail rabbit suddenly darted from beside my granddaughter's foot. Rabbits will do this at times. They hold so still you think they are rocks until they finally dart away.

Cutest bunny ever! Photo by Darla Sue Dollman.

Coyote Ridge has so much wildlife that it is particularly important not to bring food of any kind as they can smell the food! In addition to the butterflies, dragonflies, rabbits and prairie dogs that we enjoy, there are also red foxes, deer, elk, hawks, owls, eagles, bears, and of course, coyotes, which we are well-familiar with now! There are maps available at the entrance along with informational pamphlets describing the various inhabitants of the area and how to avoid dangerous encounters.

I highly recommend both of these recreational areas. Remember to take plenty of water--we took a full bottle for each of us and an extra. We also had hiking sticks for each of us. I then instructed the children to stay beside me at all times, never run ahead or around a turn where they cannot see me. Even though there are no slow times at these areas, it is best to be safe!

Coyote Mystery

My dogs and I have had some strange adventures lately. Every night, wind, rain, or snow, since November of last year, my three dogs and I have enjoyed the peace and solitude of our walks on the desert sandy hills west of town. We would arrive anywhere from early afternoon to dusk, sometimes watching the sunset together, or the black-tailed jacks race through the sage brush. Sometimes my husband would join us, but most of the time we would go alone. Chewy the chihuahua would chase after the chocolate labs for a bit then jump back into the truck, never traveling more than twenty feet ahead of me. Holly liked to explore a bit further, but her brother, Buddy, usually stayed nearby.

About two weeks ago, early in the afternoon, we were driving down a paved road near town when we noticed two coyotes standing in the middle of the street. They turned and looked at me. It was an odd moment. I felt as if they were staring into my eyes. I raised my camera to take a picture through the windshield--I didn't feel comfortable leaving the truck. They looked for a few minutes longer, then ran into the brush. After they disappeared into the sage brush, I opened the door of my truck and looked into the field. They had simply disappeared, as if the sage had swallowed them up. Then, as I climbed back into the truck, I glanced out the passenger side window and noticed a third coyote, her head raised slightly above the brush, watching me.

I had a strange sense of foreboding. I wasn't sure what to think. We were so close to town, and it wasn't even dusk! My apprehension grew the next night when we drove down a dirt road and saw two coyotes crossing in front of us. They made me wait as they slowly crossed the road, watching me all the while. I drove to the end of the road, turned around and drove back to the top of the hill, quite a distance from the two. I climbed out of the truck and Chewy ran across a ditch then stopped about twenty feet ahead of me. Holly and Buddy were still beside me. Chewy seemed to be looking at something. A white truck pulled up near the end of the road and a man waved to me. I waved back, assuming he was just saying hello. I started after Chewy.

Suddenly, a coyote stepped out from the sage brush and I realized why the man was waving. He started chasing Chewy. In one swift movement I screamed to the labs to get "up" into the truck, which they did, then I screamed to Chewy to run as I ran to the ditch. Chewy reached the ditch and seemed to fly across it. The coyote reached the ditch, saw me standing with a large stick in my hand and skidded to a stop, baring its teeth. I grabbed Chewy and ran backwards a few feet and the coyote moved forward into the ditch. I turned and ran to the truck and jumped inside just as the coyote cleared the ditch. When I started the truck, it turned and left.

The next night, I decided to take the dogs for a drive. We saw two more coyotes deep in the field, but I wasn't planning on staying. I took them closer to town and stopped on a dirt road in a quiet neighborhood. I parked in front of a house and left the truck with Chewy still in my arms, planning to carry him while I walked the labs a few feet down the road. I'd seen many people walking their dogs in this neighborhood. The labs were a few feet ahead of me and Chewy was still in my arms when three coyotes stepped out of the brush. I turned and tossed Chewy back inside the truck and Buddy jumped in behind him, but the coyotes circled around Holly. I grabbed my stick and swung it at them, but they ignored me, circling her fast, leading her to the sandy hilltop. By the time I got into my truck and chased after them they had her on the motocross track. I drove over the sage straight at the coyotes and laid on my horn just as one prepared to jump on Holly's back. Holly dodged the coyote and I jumped from the truck with my stick. Holly ran between two coyotes and jumped into the truck. I was stuck on the track for an hour trying to find my way out and the coyotes sat on the hill the entire time, watching, while Holly shivered with fear beside me.

I decided to take them to the hills above the high school instead, and decided I would go much earlier in the day. The first day, my husband went with me and all was well. On the second day, we stayed for half an hour, then I put Chewy and Buddy in the truck. I turned to look for Holly and she was gone. Then I heard the most hideous screeching sound I've ever heard. I think my heart stopped. I ran to the edge of the hill and saw a coyote chasing Holly. I have no idea what happened. Was it by the truck? Did it chase her down the hill? Did she wander off? I ran for Holly, waving my walking stick, screaming for her to run faster to me as the coyote came closer and closer. She reached the truck. I turned around and the coyote had disappeared.

The next two days I took the dogs for walks in empty fields in town, then took them for drives on the sandy hilltops around town. They stayed in the truck while I got out and took pictures of the mountains and sunset. The first night, I was photographing some crows when I noticed a gray spot in the corner of the view finder. I lowered the camera. It was a coyote, standing at the bottom of the hill, staring at me, baring its teeth. The second day I went to a different hill. I shot some great scenery pics and when I downloaded them onto my computer, once again I saw a gray spot in the corner. I cropped and enlarged it. Off in the distance yet another coyote was watching me, baring its teeth.

It's been four days now and we haven't seen one coyote. My husband has a week of day shifts so he's been with us on our walks. I don't know what to think about these coyote encounters. Were they after my dogs, or me? Why do they fail to appear when I'm with my husband? Why do they appear when I'm alone? It's a mystery.

The Little Rabbit

I took the dogs to the desert hilltop tonight to watch the sunset. As the sun lowered in the sky the clouds turned a bright, glowing pink. I positioned my camera so I could photograph a cholla cactus at the same time I was photographing the clouds when suddenly I heard a scream like a frightened baby. I turned to see my male chocolate lab, Buddy, with his head to the ground and I knew he had a rabbit.

By the time I reached the rabbit she was very still. The dogs were trying to get to her and I couldn't hold them all back at the same time, so I picked up the rabbit and held her against my chest. She was still alive. I could feel her heart pounding. I told her I loved her and whispered short prayers, trying to focus on making my hands warm so she could feel my warmth, knowing she was going into shock. She was the softest little creature I have ever held in my arms.

I could have been making it worse. I didn't know what to do. I led the dogs back to the truck. I knew she would not survive if I set her down, they would go after her again. I held her as gently as I could and as I carefully led the dogs back to the truck I felt her heart beat begin to slow down. Her tiny head fell limp against my chest. Her heart beat even slower. She made a faint choking sound, then her heart beat stopped. She had died in my arms.

I reached the truck and shut the dogs inside, then walked back to where I had found the rabbit to look for a hole. Mother rabbits tend to return to their babies at dusk, but if they sense a danger, they will move away from the nest to distract the predator and save the babies. I couldn't find a nest. I dug a hole in the sand with my free hand, but I couldn't bring myself to set her in it. For awhile, I could not admit to myself that she had actually died. She didn't appear to have any wounds. I pressed lightly against her chest trying to give her bunny CPR. I checked her eyes, and they did not glaze over. I placed my finger near her tiny nose, but I could not feel her take a breath.

It was dark. There was a full moon, but I knew if I stayed too much longer I would not be able to see well enough to find my way back to the truck. I had to say goodbye to her. I placed her in the hole and tried to cover her with sand, but I just couldn't do it! Her eyes were still open and I didn't want her to get sand in her eyes. If she was still alive, I wanted her to be able to see if another predator came near. I kept her head uncovered, then found some dried tall grass and draped this across her tiny head. I lifted it once more, just to make sure, but she hadn't moved. She was still warm. I scraped some of the sand off so that if she was still alive and in shock, when she calmed down she could crawl out, but in my heart, I know she was dead.

I keep replaying the scene in my mind, wondering if I could have helped her sooner. Did I hesitate? Did I respond at the first cry? Why was I taking pictures instead of watching the dogs? Should I have left her on the ground and tried to drag all three dogs back to the truck? I know that would never have worked, but this is what is going through my mind as I try to think of other things, and can't. One of God's precious little creatures has died a horrible death, a death of fear.

Fear is a horrible thing. I know. I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have lived a life of fear for many years. It is incurable, but there are some treatments available. Still, I know what it means to be the frightened rabbit.

This is not the first time I've been through this experience. We bought Buddy and his sister, Holly, from a woman who was selling chocolate and black labs out of the back of a farm truck in a grocery store parking lot in Colorado. She told us their parents were hunting dogs, but two females were pregnant at once, both had eight puppies. As we walked through the parking lot with our groceries, Holly made eye contact with me. She placed both front paws on the truck's back gate and watched me pushing my cart. We placed the groceries in the truck and went back to take a look. She walked over to Buddy, who was the largest puppy in the truck, sprawled in the center like he owned the truck bed and watching us. "I think we have been chosen," my husband said. Sure enough, as the other puppies played, Buddy and Holly walked over to us, wagging their tails.

We lived on 35 acres of prairie land and hills in Wellington, Colorado. I ran with the dogs twice a day. We had great adventures, leaping over the eight foot bull snake who liked to lounge in the sun, chasing each other, watching the sunset. One morning, my husband went with us. Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and nodded toward Holly. She was pointing with her nose straight forward, one paw bent, her tail straight out. Buddy ran up behind her and started to dig. Then we heard the scream, the baby rabbit scream.

I ran to the nest and found one of the babies in Buddy's mouth. It was already dead. Steve took the dogs back to the house and buried the dead baby rabbit while I re-covered the nest then crossed it with sticks to make sure the mother returned. That evening, I checked the nest. The sticks were moved. She had returned. We watched over the nest carefully to make certain that the dogs did not try to dig it up again. A few months later, as we stood on the back balcony, we saw them playing with each other near the hole. Soon, we had the mother and four babies romping around our backyard, and we guarded them all carefully.

My garden quickly disappeared, and when winter came, the bark on the trees and all shrubs disappeared. We tried repeatedly to grow a garden and trees on the property, but something was eating them down to the ground.

The following spring we noticed more rabbits, then more rabbits. Soon, the property was over-run with rabbits. There were jackrabbits all over the hills, but the rabbits that lived near our house were cottontails. One bold mother built her nest beneath our bedroom window. Another built it in a runoff ditch and we had to rescue the babies in the middle of a midnight storm. When we decided to sell the house and move to Texas, there were so many rabbits on the property that when we drove down the driveway in the evening after work we could see six or seven sitting beneath the wagon, a few more in the front garden, five or six in the fruit tree arbor, even more bouncing around the backyard.

In Texas, I learned to watch my dogs carefully on walks and when Holly would point, and Buddy dig, I would run to the nest and pull them back. My husband made a few wire fence cages that we kept in the garage and when the dogs located a nest, we covered it with the cage. The mothers always returned for the babies and we only lost one other rabbit the entire time we lived in Texas.

I do not regret saving that first nest of rabbits in Colorado, even though they nearly ate the house. They were all blessed gifts from God, precious little creatures, soft and warm, gentle, loving. I wish they were not prey animals. I wish they had the boldness, the fierceness to protect and defend themselves as I often wish the same for me, but I also know that it is the soft and gentle creations of God that bring balance to this earth. My heart is broken, still, for that sweet little bunny that I covered with sand on the desert hilltop, but I know that now she is lying in the arms of God, her soft body pressed against His robes where she is safe and warm and no longer afraid.

Wild West Weather

It's been a wild weather month with everything from dust storms to roll clouds appearing in the skies and the little creatures have had to struggle to stay warm one day, cool the next.

Yesterday it was nearly 80 degrees in Rio Rancho and I sat on the back porch with my dogs for four hours, reading a great book on bird photography. This morning, it was 65 degrees with wind gusts of 65 to 70 mph and...blowing snow! Technically, it was called flurries. Nevertheless, I was surprised to see it. Generally, snow doesn't appear unless it is 40 degrees or lower...or so I thought. I did some research on the subject and discovered this depends on the temperature of the sky above, not the temperature on the ground. So, obviously, the fast moving clouds above were much cooler, and the snow melted as quickly as it fell.

Rio Rancho is very much a desert. We don't have dirt here, we have sand and sagebrush, which is fine with me. I love the desert landscape. However, when the winds kick up, we get sand in our eyes, ears, hair, nose--everywhere. The trucks were covered with sand. Thankfully, my husband left for work early before the storm winds picked up, and arrived home when they were dying down.

The setting sun through the thin clouds of dust created what is called iridescence. I took some photographs and posted them to the right. Iridescence is caused when sunlight passes through thin clouds, and these moments of iridescence appeared as the sun was getting ready to set behind thin clouds of dust.

As the storm began to die down, it also created roll clouds. Three of them. I've never seen anything like it. I've seen one before, but never three. One of them was huge, with wisps at one end to mark the movement of the cloud.

Roll clouds occur when a storm is coming to an end. Roll clouds are long, low tubes of cloud extending horizontally from horizon to horizon. They are actually moving, rotating as they move. They can move as fast as 35 mph. As I mentioned above, in some of the pictures I took today I could see the sweeps marking the movement of the cloud. The roll cloud rotates against its direction of travel. Sometimes it is a very smooth tube, sometimes a bit raggedy. Today, I saw three roll clouds coming off the mountains, one by one, as the dust storm began to die down.

The dogs and I have started a routine of driving to the hilltop that overlooks the valley and watching the sunset each night. Well, I watch the sunset while they sniff the sagebrush and look for jackrabbits to chase. Sometimes they actually find a jackrabbit, which is always amusing. The rabbit will run the dogs in circles for a bit, kindly giving them some exercise, then kick it into high gear and disappear in a cloud of dust while the dogs turn in circles, asking each other, "Which way did he go?"

New Mexico is such a magical, spiritual place, truly a gift from God, and I am thankful for every day I spend here.

Walking Along the Rio Grande

It was an interesting day today, starting with an early morning balloon launch. The balloons took off from a park down the street. At one point, it appeared as if they were being blasted by some strong gusts of wind, which would make sense as we had a fierce storm move in later in the afternoon. I counted nine balloons, but a few were already on their way north toward Corrales before I noticed them outside.

The little birds ate ferociously this morning. They always do when a storm is coming. They are mini barometers. I go through twice as much bird seed when storms are moving in. Then, they fluff their feathers so they look like little feather balls.

As the storm moved in this afternoon, we took a walk along the Rio Grande. We came to a farm with some funny looking birds. They look like a cross between a pheasant and a chicken, but they have clown faces. I counted 29 of them sitting on the wooden fences, watching us walk by.

There was also a beautiful black horse in the field. He walked over to the fence and let me pet his face. He was gentle and sweet, and when I took his picture, I would swear he was smiling.

The Rio Grande was stunning. It seems to be running a bit low. I watched the ducks and geese as they swam through the water, but occasionally, one would stop and stand up--a fairly good indication that water levels are low. After awhile, though, it started to rain, which is always a good sign. I'm surprised by how many dead trees I'm seeing in this area, though. I'm not sure if it's due to last year's drought or a pine disease. Either way, it's very sad.

Prayer for the Horses

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for hearing our prayer.

We acknowledge that our horses are constantly embraced and protected by Your Divine Love.

As You have given us dominion over our thoughts, we pray that our thoughts are in line with Your Thoughts, that all of mankind see our horses the way You see them, as a unique expression of Your Creation, living purely, freely, in safety and abundance, and in perfect Peace and Harmony with all that surrounds them.

We praise You and thank You, our Good and Loving Father, and have faith that You are right here, right now, dwelling in the midst of us, governing all that is seen and unseen according to Your Divine Principle.

In Christ Jesus we pray.

Amen.

Prayer by Vivian, Tuesday's Horse, who reminds us that "we can easily substitute all our animals for horses. I was inspired to write this prayer, and did so for the horses, because they are who we happen to work on behalf of."

Yesterday's Newcomers--Yellow Birds

Yesterday, I noticed a little yellow bird on the side of the house. The bird seemed to be digging something out of the sand. It has a beautiful singing voice. I photographed the bird from over the fence and its body appeared to be yellow, then I walked around the outside of the house to the side of the wall and left some seed on the wall. It wasn't really interested on the seed, but not particularly intimidate by me. However, in the photographs from the front of the house, the bird appeared to be orange, or red.

Today, I realized the "newcomer" is actually two birds. The female is yellow, the male is a reddish/orange. I watched them for nearly an hour. I believe they are building a nest near or under the children's playhouse. They are digging in the sand for grubs and sticks and grass for the nest.

They only appear at sunset, and as they work, they pause and lift their faces to the sun and their bodies pick up the sunset colors, then they suddenly dart to the ground and pull a bug out of the ground. It's as if they sense the movement in the sand. Their nest must be either in the playhouse attic or underneath. I am hoping they build the nest in the attack. I have no doubt that this area has snakes, and ground nests are always more vulnerable. They are beautiful little birds, so delicate, with a sweet voice.

Early Morning Balloon Launch, Crows, and Romantic Birds

It was a warm, breezy morning and the skies over Rio Rancho were filled with wispy clouds, chattering birds, and hot air balloons. I counted forty, but there were quite a few moving north toward Corrales and hidden by the trees. The clouds seemed to be playing with the balloons, reaching out for them, whisking them from mountain top to mountain top, pushing them from one side of the sky to the other. Two of the balloons turned to the west, then headed south again, landing somewhere in our neighborhood.

While I watched the balloons, I noticed a crow flying overhead. Crows are very noisy when they fly through the neighborhood. You can hear them from a long way off and the sound tells you if they're coming toward you or moving further away, but this one was flying in circles through the neighborhood. The crows like to sit in the tall evergreens on the opposite side of the arroyo that runs behind our house. They also like to sit on the lamp post where the hawks sometimes land. They have a better view of the neighborhood this way.

Crows are opportunistic eaters, like Road Runners. They will eat anything they can find. I put some seed out on the wall near the road where they like to fly, but the crow caught something instead. It appeared to be a mouse. I don't like watching animals eat live food, but it's part of nature, and so much better than seeing creatures hit by cars--it's the circle of life. The crow actually carried its prey to the top of the lamp post to eat it.

As I watched the balloons, I also photographed the birds behind me. They are more comfortable with me now and allow me to stand much closer. It's been an interesting bird-watching week. Each day, I have spotted a new species of bird. This morning's new bird appears to be a type of finch. It has a silver beak and tangerine stripes on its head. It likes the swinging bird feeder. There was a female finch sitting in the bird feeder and the male with the striped head kept hopping comfortably around her so it's possible they're a mated pair. It's that time of year--romance is in the air, even in the swinging bird feeders!

Beautiful Little Birds

My garden is filled with birds--sparrows, finches, thrashes, white winged doves, dark-eyed juncos, crows and robins. Sometimes I see boat-tailed grackles in the trees. A few days ago, a Swainson's Hawk flew overhead, circling and watching.

The robins appear late in the afternoon. They start on the garden wall. They don't visit the seed dishes, they sit on the wall and watch me as I photograph the mountains, then they hop down into the arroyo and dig in the sand for worms and bugs. I would think it would be a bit early for bugs, but I photographed one yesterday, so I know they are available!

There are three dark-eyed juncos, mysteriously dark gray birds that quietly appear on the wall by my side when I'm looking in another direction. When I realize they are nearby, I slowly turn to face them, but they do not leave. They hold very still, staring off toward the mountains as if they do not see me. Sometimes in the afternoon I see them hopping beneath the patio table, picking up seeds that the doves have knocked to the ground.

The doves are rather bold. They will flock to the table and watch me through the window as I work in the kitchen. Sometimes they fly onto the wall when I open the door, and sometimes they fly to the roof of my grandchildren's playhouse or to the roof of the garden shed. They are noisy birds, chittering as they fly away as if chastising me for disturbing their meal.

I rarely see the crows. I hear them as they fly over the houses as I hear the Canadian geese, but I rarely see them. They land in the tall evergreens in my neighbor's yard and talk to me, sounding off to let me know they are there.

Mr. and Mrs. Thrasher, of course, are always in the shrub. I think it is Mrs. Thrasher who sits on the wall in the corner, watching me fill the seed dishes. Mr. Thrasher leaves sometimes, but later in the evening, he poses majestically at the top of the shrub, listening, watching.

The little birds, the finches and sparrows, are the ones that bring me the most joy. They are so tiny, delicate, and sweet, and they never stop singing. From the minute they wake up until they flock to the nearby trees for cover at sunset I can hear them singing in my yard. They are also kind and cooperative when it comes to my photography, primping and posing, waiting for me to focus. They are patient little birds, sitting in the shrub like Christmas tree bulbs, fluffing their feathers on cold days to create pockets of warm air that warm their bodies, fluttering to the seed dishes to stock up on seed. I am so blessed by my precious little friends.

The Return of Mr. Thrasher

I visit with the birds on the side of the house three or four times a day. It is my peace. I speak with them, toss them some seed, listen to their songs. Mrs. Thrasher and I have similar interests. She likes to sit on the side of the wall and watch the sparrows while Mr. Thrasher flies about the neighborhood.

To be honest, I'm not sure if it's Mr. or Mrs., but I'm assuming it is Mrs. Thrasher sitting on the wall. The curve-billed thrasher is 10 to 12 inches long, generally slender though they puff up a bit when it's cold and breezy, with a long tail and a long, curved, sickle-shaped bill. It is grayish-brown on the wings with a lighter, slightly streaked body. Its tail is streaked with white and the sides of the tail are darker than its back. It has a deep orange or reddish-orange eye, as you may have noticed from the pictures I post to the right.

The curve-billed thrasher mates for life and both male and female work together to care for the nest and young. Thrashers lay two to four blue eggs, generally in spiny brush--which is where they live on the side of my house--or in cactus. They eat bugs and seeds, and we have plenty of both in my yard, but this time of year, it's mostly seeds that I provide.

One of the thrashers has been missing for a bit. It's possible I simply did not see him as I generally count the birds at the same time every day. Today, however, I counted in the morning, and he was there, which made me very happy!

However, I noticed something interesting during my minor panic over Mr. Thrasher's possible disappearance. I went back through my photographs and noticed another bird, a bird that appears to be a curve-billed thrasher. There is something different about this bird, though. It's eyes are yellow, and its breast seems lighter. I think it's beak might also be straighter, which would mean it is either a juvenile curve-billed thrasher or a Bendire's thrasher, which is vulnerable to extinction. Either way, I need to do further documentation of the thrashers who live on the side of my house. My count is clearly off. I have three, not two. What I need is a better picture of the yellow-eyed bird!

As a special treat, I also had a visit from two great-tailed grackles--lovely!

Wild Burro Protection League to Deliver Petition to Texas Governor Rick Perry

On January 18, 2012, Marjorie Farabee will begin the Wild Burro Protection League Ride For Life in an effort to save the last remaining herd of wild burros in Texas. The Ride for Life will take place in Austin, Texas where Farabee will deliver the 103,000 signatures and comments to Governor Rick Perry and Lt. Governor David Dewhurst at 1:00 PM.

Farabee will begin the ride at noon on the back of a small buckboard wagon pulled by a donkey named Miss Abby who has her own website, Donkeys Can Do. The staging area will be at Rosewood Oaks, 1507 Lavaca Street in Austin, next to the Capitol Grounds Complex. She will then travel up Lavaca Street, turn left on 16th and right on Congress, and to the South side of the Capitol building. At that time, Marjorie Farabee will disembark from the buckboard, and walk to the north entrance to deliver the petition.

In the meantime, other supporters of the cause to save the wild burros will speak to those interested about what is happening to the last herd of wild burros in Texas, as well as other wildlife located in Big Bend Ranch State Park. For more information, visit Miss Abby's Facebook page.

Little Bird with Deformed Beak

There is a little sparrow that lives in the shrub with the thrashers. The rest of the sparrows sleep in the evergreens in the arroyo at night, but this blessed little creature lives in the shrub that tumbles over the wall around our property.

I suspected something was wrong with her when I realized she would not leave the shrub. When the cat follows me outside, the little bird hops deeper into the shrub. I was watching her this evening and when she turned her head, it appeared as if she was missing an eye. I took some pictures--she actually has a misformed beak, which makes her eye set in a bit. I'm not sure if she can see out of it properly. I'm also not sure if she was born this way, or if it's an injury, but I believe she needs some prayer, and perhaps a little more protection from the cat--no more cat following me outside!

Sun Pillars and Thrashers

I was photographing the sunset last night and a sun pillar appeared. A sun pillar is vertical streaks of light above a low sun shining through ice crystal clouds, similar to glitter paths on the surface of a lake or ocean. It is brightest when the sun is just below the horizon. When a sun pillar occurs at night, it is called...a moon pillar, of course!

It was still light outside, so I walked over to the wall on the side of the house to talk to the thrashers. There is a mated pair of thrashers living in the shrub that creeps over the wall and divides our property from the property next door. The thrasher couple mixes amicably with the finches, sparrows and doves that flutter around our yard, but at night, when the smaller birds fly into the thick evergreens in the arroyo for extra protection from predators, the thrashers sit on the wall, waiting to talk to me.

This time, however, the dogs were with me. Mrs. Thrasher did not like this at all. She looked at me, then down at the dogs, then back at me, then down at the dogs. At one point, I thought she might attack them, so I told the dogs to go back inside.

The days are growing warmer and the little birds seem to be hovering around interesting places, like the garden shed, and my grandchildren's playhouse. I suspect they are looking for nesting sites. They like the smiling sun that hangs on the playhouse. The sun's mouths is open and the space is perfect for a small nest.

I love nesting season, listening to the birds call to their mates, watching them dart back and forth from the plants to their nests, capturing bugs, feeding their young. God has blessed our home with these little creatures, and they are marvelous.

Fun at the Albuquerque BioPark

It's been a busy month. My grandchildren were visiting and we spent some time at the Albuquerque BioPark. The BioPark, located next to the Rio Grande River, was founded in 1927 and includes the Rio Grande Zoo, Tingley Beach, the Botanic Garden and the aquarium.

We spent the day at the BioPark, which is easy to do as there is so much to see! We started at the zoo, then moved to the aquarium and ended the evening with the River of Lights display--400 light displays on the river. The River of Lights is visited by 90,000 people each year. I think they were all there the night we went, too--it was packed!

Although I prefer to see animals flying free, I am always reminded of the importance of zoos when I read the life expectancy information on the cards in front of the animal displays. Most of the time, the life expectancy of animals is doubled in captivity due to a lack of predators. Unfortunately, humans are almost always the number one predator of wild animals.

One of my favorite displays at the zoo was the golden eagle. He reminded me of the pair of golden eagles that used to fly over our house when we lived in Wellington, Colorado. We had 35 acres and they returned to the hills each year to raise their fledgling. When they fly between you and the sun, you can see the sunlight through their wings and their wings glow like flourescent gold.

I also enjoyed the polar bears. They were awake, rolling around, being playful and noisy. One of the bears kept making strange noises. I had the impression he was bored.

When we went to the lion enclosure, we heard a loud, rhythmis roaring, but we didn't see any lions. A woman standing nearby jokingly said it sounded like a tape recording--and it did! Then the roaring stopped. "They're rewinding the tape," she said, and we laughed and started to walk away. A minute later she called out to me. "He's out!" She said. "It really is a lion! He's walking around, roaring!" Sure enough, the lion walked around the enclosure, scratched his head on a post, went back inside and started to roar again!

Blizzard!

The weather forecast called for rain, but it's been snowing since before I woke up this morning. I should have known there was snow on the ground!

My husband wakes up very early. When he lets the chocolate labs out to do their morning duty, he usually comes back into the bedroom and reaches beneath the woolen blankets I pile up on my feet to fetch the chihuahua. Chewy the chihuahua likes to roll himself into a blanket ball in the middle of the night. This morning, when my husband tried to unravel the chihuahua to take him outside, Chewy refused to go!

Around four this afternoon, I realized Chewy had spent the entire day in bed. I came into the bedroom and asked if he intended to get up today. He looked over his shoulder, out the window, at the snow, as you can see in the pictures to the right, then he looked back at me, but didn't move from the bed. He spent the entire day beneath the covers.

I fed the birds four times today. They seem to eat twice as much when it's cold outside. There was a small flock of doves on the patio table when I walked outside. Their lovely slate gray wings contrasted beautifully with the falling snow and when they fluttered up and off the porch it was like watching a living painting in an artist's gallery.

We have new birds in the tree/shrub beside the house. At first, I only noticed one mated pair, but now there are six or more each day. The males have reddish-brown bodies and their tails appear to have a deep blue color. The females are brownish-gray. The males also have black and white striped wings--quite a colorful combination! The females have the same stripes, but the stripes are on their heads. I've never seen anything like them, but I started volunteering for a Nature Watch program and I plan to participate in this year's Great Backyard Bird Count, so I need to identify the birds soon. Unfortunately, they are not as friendly with me as the other birds and fly away before I can get a focused picture.

There is a hierarchy on the back wall, too. There are two varieties of sparrows that live in the shrub. One is the common house sparrow and I haven't identified the others yet. The new birds with the stripes are slightly larger and the sparrows move away from the dish when the striped birds arrive.

The thrashers are larger than the striped birds and a bit pushy. They're not greedy. They will wait for the other birds to eat, but when they think the seed dish is getting low, they fly into the flock and chase the other birds off so they can have their turn at the seeds.

The doves, of course, are much too large for the seed dish on the wall or the feeders hanging from the porch. They can only eat from the dish on the table and the other birds leave that dish for the doves. It's a nice little community. No one ever fights, they just know when it's time to share, and when they need to get out of the way to avoid a mid-air collision with a larger bird!

Careful Training or Animal Abuse?

I had an interesting online conversation this evening about a video that shows a man riding his bicycle while his dogs run behind him on busy trails and roads.

At first, I thought it was a fun video that showed a man who worked hard to train his dogs and gave them a tremendous amount of attention, affection, and love. My friend thought it showed a man who took too many risks with his dogs, risks that could potentially lead to their deaths.

At first, I defended the man in the video, believing he proved his experience and expertise in dog training through the behavior of his dogs, then I realized my friend made a valid point, the man did take risks, too many risks. At any time, one of the many dogs in the video could have suddenly changed its mind and decided to break free from its trainer and dart out into the road.

I have always believed that when I take an animal into my home I am completely responsible for all aspects of that animal's welfare. Training animals is important, but taking them out in public and deliberately placing them in risky situations to show how well they are trained is a selfish act that can only go one of two ways--either the animal will perform as he or she has been trained to perform, or the animal will not, and will become injured, or killed.

The discussion was about domestic animals, but in a way, this applies to wild animals, as well. There are many companies that will allow students to pose with trained "big cats" for photos. A 17 year old high school student from Kansas was killed by a Siberian Tiger in 2005 at a ranch where tigers, lions and bears are trained for Hollywood films, but for many years, this same ranch allowed students to pose with the animals for photos.

The trainer may very well be an expert in his field with many years of experience, but I suspect he took too many risks with the animals, endangering both the animals and the students who posed with the animals through his pride in his own abilities. Animals on a film set in tightly controlled conditions obviously behave completely differently than they do in the privacy of their own homes--their cages--when strangers are introduced for brief periods of time. I could see this as a situation similar to when a dog is in a car and someone reaches through an open window to pet the dog. The dog will feel as if the stranger is trying to enter his or her home.

The question is not how good the trainer is, or how well the animal is trained. The question is, is this fair to the animal, or the trusting humans? In a way, it could be seen as cruel. The animal did not agree to have strangers paraded through his or her home, to be used as a fashion model and posed like a doll. Wild animals are...wild!

In October of 2011, Zanesville, Ohio experienced a night of terror that seemed to be taken right out of a horror film as more than 50 lions, tigers, and other wild animals were destroyed after the owner of a wild animal farm, Terry Thompson, released the animals from their cages then committed suicide. Before he died, he cut the gates so the animals could not be caught and returned to their cages.

Why he released the animals is a mystery. If he truly loved the animals, why would he do something so cruel? Surely he knew the animals would be destroyed! Apparently, he was experiencing legal problems because the animals kept escaping. So he solved his problem through the most extreme act of selfishness and at a great loss to the worldwide community of big cats. Many of these cats were on the endangered species list. The surviving animals were taken to the Columbus, Ohio zoo.

The big question, though, is why he had the animals in the first place. Thompson did not display or show the animals. They were not trained for use in films. He kept hundreds of wild animals on his ranch in the middle of town for no explainable reason other than that he enjoyed wild animals. If he loved wild animals so much, why would he keep them in cages, then release them without protection of any kind?

According to an article in USA Today, the Humane Society of the United States has documented 22 incidents with dangerous exotic animals in Ohio since 2003. Why is this allowed to happen? If a person truly loves animals, they do not take this kind of risk, keeping hundreds of wild animals in cages in the middle of town without trained zookeepers to supervise their health and living conditions.

There is a similar situation going on in the United States with snakes that are used as props in birthday parties, in traveling shows, and tortured and killed in rattlesnake roundups. There is little, if any, concern for the welfare of the snakes according to animal activists like Matt Ellerbeck who is fighting for the rights of these animals. Considering most snake bites occur when snakes are handled, there seems to be an equal lack of concern for the welfare of the humans involved.

What does seem obvious is that there is a lack of concern for the rights of animals in all of these cases, particularly their right to be protected from the greatest threat, the greatest predator that animals face--humans.

Edited to add: For more information regarding the work of animal rights activist Matt Ellerbeck, please visit his website here.

Chilly Birds and Aliens

It has been so cold in New Mexico! We had a cold front move down from Colorado and another slide over from Arizona. The storm moving in from the east was the blackest storm I've ever seen. The two storms combined and now it is literally freezing! It was ten degrees below zero last night according to the outdoor thermostat.

I've been leaving extra seeds for the birds. I thought they would need to bulk up to handle the cold weather. When it's snowing, they fluff their feathers up so they look like little feather balls! I wish they would fly into the garden shed on cold nights, but I'm sure the hawks in the neighborhood are making the same wish.

We've seen new birds here, too. Tiny birds with black wings and tan heads, doves with different markings, and a reddish-brown hawk watching the house from the street lamp nearby. The hawk flew past the kitchen window yesterday at dusk. I haven't been able to get a close enough look to identify him. It's so difficult, knowing he is hunting in my back yard, but it's all part of God's plan and I'm glad that he, too, can find food.

I've identified the large birds with the orange eyes. They are thrashers. They can mimic sounds, like mockingbirds and catbirds. There are also grey catbirds in this area. They can imitate the sounds of cats.

Last night, we heard a strange sound in front of the house, like a loud purring sound. We thought it might be birds, but it was so dark outside and birds don't usually fly at night, unless they are owls. The sound moved into the backyard and we didn't see any birds flying overhead. It was so loud, all of the dogs in the neighborhood were barking.

I took an informal poll of my friends and they decided the creature was either a mountain lion, catbirds, Bigfoot, or aliens.