Magical clouds

K ran free once again! I took the plunge and unclipped her leash during yesterday evening's hike. Despite her freedom, she mostly chose to walk by my side - I think that she's still tired. But, I caught the duo out in front together among the green and yellow aspen!We all gazed at the sunset. The sun falls toward the western mountain tops faster each day, throwing our forest into the shadows earlier.In the evening, the crazy boys in our family played raucously. K has been stand-offish about playing so my husband stepped into the void for the forever puppyish R.This morning, K stared longingly out the door - until she spotted movement in the woods. Then, the fur on her shoulders stood straight up as she barked with a deep voice. I never cease to be amazed by how ferocious sweet K can sound.Before I went on my ride, K and I did a short loop in the forest. She still lacked her normal verve. In fact, even her body language looked unusual with her head lowered as she trotted toward me. I'm working on being patient, as I mentioned in an earlier post. But, usually, she speeds past all the vet's predictions for how long it will take to recover from illness. Not this time.
We've added some protein to her diet, a tiny bit for starters. We're also walking her a little bit further, all on the schedule given to us by our vet for recovery from pancreatitis. Now, we'll try to settle in at this new level, which in the context of her normal life is truly sedentary. I miss having her with me on adventures but I'm optimistic that we'll have more wild journeys once she feels better.

Several of you have sent me links to information about canine pancreatitis (and I'm incredibly grateful!). I've been also reading about the relationship between pancreatitis and hypothyroidism because a vet school specialist has informed us that the two diseases are probably linked in K. I hope to create a list of resources for others to use once I've sorted through all the information.

K turns 6 years old in a week and a half. Our tradition is to embark on a mountain adventure for her birthday. Last year, during her birthday adventure, we came around a curve in a trail and a moose, with gigantic antlers, stood immobile in front of us. He turned and ran directly into a dense forest. Despite the 3-4' width of his antlers, he gracefully and silently disappeared into the stand of pine trees. That encounter made last year's birthday adventure memorable! My fingers are crossed that K will be strong enough to have a birthday adventure this year.

Today, I went for a longish mountain bike ride, all by myself. I have to admit that I felt lonely with no canine company. As a cure for the blues, I wanted to ride hard but my legs and neck protested. My cervical spine instability causes all sorts of odd symptoms, from ringing in my ears to aching legs. Today it was aching legs.

So, I just enjoyed the show that the clouds and mountains provided. As I started out, a novice eye would have seen serene mountains but a mountain dweller knows that the clouds clinging to the peaks in the early morning were a warning.
After a steep climb, I emerged from the forest on an exposed ridge. I saw that the clouds over the mountains had billowed upward, forming a thicker blanket over the Continental Divide.
A glance to the south stopped me in my tracks. The storms yesterday transformed a faraway towering mountain, over 14,000' tall, from a dark rocky sentinel to a white harbinger of winter. I could barely distinguish the snow coated mountain from the puffy white clouds enshrouding it. It looked like a mirage on the horizon.
As I rode toward the east, I looked over my shoulder to see that angry gray storm clouds now topped the upward pluming white ones.I dropped down 1000' and then started climbing again, on a carefully maintained open space trail. I was dismayed to see that the 'officials' are widening it and actually blasting apart boulders to make the trail smooth enough for a sedan. That terrain makes for some boring mountain biking. But, I'll always love the view from the top.
My legs never found their 'snap' today but I enjoyed a mellow journey in the woods. When I arrived home, K even managed to keep her eyes open for a brief period, before lapsing into unladylike snoring, as she and R lay on the deck. What a wonderful pair!

A murky day

Somehow, I've slept so soundly for the past few nights that, according to my husband, I didn't even jolt awake when the dogs exploded into barking at the local coyote pack's howling concert. But, last night, the sound of K licking her lips and standing up snapped me out of a deep sleep. It happened twice, followed by gagging both times. Uh oh, I thought - that's what you get for being so happy yesterday.

I talked with my vet this morning who prescribed new meds for acid reflux and nausea (for K, not me!). Both of these problems tend to accompany pancreatitis. She was only mildly alarmed - but asked that we watch K closely today for a potential relapse. She also gave me a concrete list of signs that it's time to take K to the emergency vet. I like having such clear-cut directions. I also feel great that we now have an emergency vet who I truly trust.

So far, K seems mellow and comfortable today. She's ravenous and hasn't been sick again. She stares longingly out the windows, probably wondering why she isn't going on any adventurous bike rides or hikes these days. Oh how I wish that I could explain it to her.
I'm sure that it was excruciating for K when I took our young black lab, R, for a bike ride today. Our usual routine is that my husband takes R running and I take K mountain biking. But, our schedule was a mess so I rode with R. I froze some oatmeal in a kong to distract K while R and I departed but I'm not sure that it worked.

R was a magnificent companion on the trails. What zest that rambunctious youngster possesses! R showed me that his training is progressing fantastically. We saw two deer who ran a few steps away, stopped, pronked high in the air a couple of times, stopped... and continued to tempt poor R for about 100 yards. At first, R stood mesmerized by them, not chasing, but also not hearing me call him. Then, he snapped out of it and zipped over to me, skidding into a sit to receive his treats. My heart soared - he's truly become a responsible off-leash dog. That's why we've taken him to training classes since he was an itsy bitsy puppy - and it's working!

This photo shows how intensely he sprints to us when called.
Clouds rendered the trails ghost-like today and rain occasionally splattered us. The autumn aspens glowed in the darkened forest as R galloped ahead of me.From a high point, the Divide hid behind clouds but the forested low mountains to the east looked spooky.
I dropped R off at home after a short ride together and rolled out on my own. I saw a lot of locals out on the trails, rejoicing that we have them to ourselves again! A pair of hikers warned me that there'd been two credible mountain lion sightings a few days ago on the ridge that I was climbing. But, I decided to ride the ridge anyway. My reasoning was that I rode through that locale unscathed two days ago which was after the sightings. As I rolled along the spine of the ridge, I scanned for animals, scat, and tracks. I saw no lion signs but lots of other animals had been wandering along that ridge!

It was worth climbing the ridge because the view of cloudy eastern hills awed me. Usually, I gaze at the high rocky mountains to our west - my favorites. But, they were invisible, shuttered by clouds. The forested smaller mountains (9,000' or so) to the southeast looked surreal.
The floating clouds accentuated the layers of peaks, starting with nearby rounded mountains and ending with the cliffs that plummet to the plains. Beyond that, the world is almost perfectly flat, all the way to Kansas.
As I rode, I mulled over K's health situation. I realized how much I wanted K's health to be an open and shut case, not a murky morass like the forest was today. I want the vet to be able to tell me exactly what will happen and when, and then, in a short time, I want the drama to be finished. However, from kind emails, my research, and my vet's words, I'm learning that pancreatitis, especially when complicated by seemingly out-of-control hypothyroidism, is hard to control or predict.

I need to learn to roll with the punches and not sweat every setback. Unfortunately, that laid-back attitude doesn't suit my personality when it comes to my dogs' health. It's especially difficult to adopt that attitude because because our dog, S, died so recently. Presently, I see death around every corner, leading me to react strongly to signs of health problems.

Perhaps I'll learn a whole new lesson from K as we navigate this illness. My incredible dog trainer, Gigi Moss, likes to say that each dog enters our lives for a reason - for some new nugget of wisdom that they'll give us. K has already taught me about how to be patient and not pushy when she goes through a fearful phase - and through that lesson, I've also learned to be kinder to myself when I'm afraid of something. Perhaps I'll now learn how to be patient in the face of illness. It's a long shot but maybe...

Fabulous dog day!

I woke up this morning and shared a good long snuggle with our lovable K. I bet that non-dog people can't imagine this - but I absolutely love how K smells. Probably her sweet scent comes from the pine tar in her fur after many rolls under pine trees. But, I hugged her and sniffed her. I reveled in every little nuance that makes her our sweet K. I also relaxed into the knowledge that she seems to be getting better. She's eating with gusto and trying to convince me to let her run off-leash using cute play bows and other puppy-like antics. What a relief.

Through research, I'm learning about why my vets were so alarmed by her pancreatitis. It kills dogs, and there's strong evidence that it's a chronic condition in K that was exacerbated by eating a few mildly toxic mushrooms. Moreover, dogs with thyroid disorders like K's hard-to-control hypothyroidism have a much rockier road with pancreatitis than normal dogs. That information explains why my vet is taking K's pancreatitis extremely seriously even though some dogs can sail through it with few complications.

In K's case, the episode has left her exhausted. She slept more today than ever before. The most interesting photo of her was of her sleeping. You can see her ribs. She hasn't eaten much in days and won't be able to eat normal quantities for another few days.
This morning, with K by my side, I looked forward to a nice ordinary day with no frantic drives to vet clinics or anxious hours waiting for news from vets. My great hope was simply a normal day.

A good indicator of how frazzled we've been is that the only other shoe-wearing member of our family (no names!) went to work wearing non-matching shoes yesterday. And, I got a photo! Hopefully, he won't read this post...
The hope of an ordinary day disappeared during breakfast. My husband and R headed out for a run while I drank coffee on the deck. A very short time later, I heard them returning. I peered over the deck, and I saw a German Short Haired Pointer with them. He'd been curled up into a tight ball hidden under the low boughs of a pine tree in the National Forest behind our house. Our dog, R, found him, circled, nudged my husband, and then stood stock still and pointed at the dog. Yes, I know that Labs are not supposed to point - but pointing at a Pointer seems appropriate to me! Only then did my husband see the exhausted and sore canine. His tags said "Kelso" and listed an address in Denver.
My husband walked Kelso home and phoned the number on the tag. The owner reacted with utter disbelief and elation. He said that Kelso had been missing since Monday, and their hope of finding him had begun to dwindle. But, he asked, "Did you find Molly with Kelso?". He explained that Molly was their other GSP and had been with Kelso when they disappeared. My husband's heart sank. Suddenly, the elation was gone. He hadn't seen Molly.

The family headed straight up to our house but, while they drove, I headed out on my bike with R as my search dog. We circled and recircled the area where Kelso had hidden, calling Molly's name. R's body language screamed that he smelled something of interest in that area (I used to be trained in canine search and rescue so I'm very attuned to a dog's small body language clues). However, I couldn't see Molly, and she didn't answer my calls.
When the family arrived, I led them to where Kelso had been hidden. They called Molly's name a million times while we all tried to use xray vision to pick out a hidden brown and white dog from the forest. Finally, we were on the verge of returning home when a passing jogger mentioned hearing some yipping from a nearby dark gulch. So, as our last try, we hiked down the gulch. My heart accelerated with fear of what we'd find. A couple of years ago, we found the remains of a neighborhood dog killed by a lion in the very same gulch.

As the hiking got rougher and steeper, I suggested that we should turn around. Just as we started to turn, I saw a light-colored animal streak across the trail in front of us. Based on my glimpse, it could have been a coyote or even a lion but it also could have been a dog. We all ran ahead to see around a rocky outcropping, and erupted in excitement when we saw Molly. However, after days on the run, Molly was skittish and looked ready to flee. So everyone but Molly's mom hid behind a boulder while she gently cajoled Molly to come to her. When Molly finally arrived in her arms, everyone cried, even me. What a wonderful feeling!
Kelso and Molly went straight to the vet who pronounced them hungry and tired but not hurt or sick. That's amazing given the night-time low temperatures in the 30s and the overnight rains that we've had. So, those two adventurers are at home with their family soaking up a ton of love.

I felt today that I repaid a debt. Earlier this week, I feared for K's life. But, thanks to the dedication of vets and techs, she's mending at home. It felt like perfect symmetry that I helped another person save their dogs today!

What a glorious day!

Dogs in the forest

"A tired dog is a good dog" is a motto that we've espoused for the 20 years that we've lived with canines. R went running this morning in the forest, ate his breakfast, and then snoozed - the epitome of a happy and mellow dog. When R doesn't get to burn off his brimming exuberance, he becomes, shall we say, mischievous. Last October, R had serious surgery to fix elbow dysplasia. During his recovery, he could do nothing except 'potty' walks for a month and then longer walks *on leash* for two months.

That entire recovery time was difficult, for him and for us. To give him 'work' to do, we gave him all his meals from frozen stuffed kongs. We bought cases of chewing objects. We played sedentary training games with him. Despite our best efforts, he created all sorts of hobbies to amuse himself. We have a pile of extra 'dog beds' that are essentially plush carpet pieces, and R would systematically drag them, one-by-one, from their storage place to the other end of the house. Once he'd gathered them all at the other end of the house, he'd move them again, one-by-one, to someplace else in the house. If he could reach the laundry basket when it was full of clean laundry, he'd remove the clothing, piece-by-piece and carefully horde it on his bed. None of this activity looked like it was good for his elbow.

R discovered some less benign hobbies during that time that often resulted in shredded objects or important documents. In desperation, we put him on doggie downers based on our vet's suggestion. They helped him to lie still and rest his elbow. And, they helped us not to go completely nuts constantly supervising R.

When R could finally run off-leash after his long recovery, he changed, almost instantly. He could burn through his high voltage energy and be a mellow dog around the house. Some dogs, like R, truly *need* to have lots of supervised off-leash exercise.

I also realize that having dogs running off-leash on the trails impacts wildlife and other people. We try, very very hard, to train our dogs to be good citizens. We start working on recalls within days of their arrival as 8 week old puppies, and we diligently keep working on those skills, in real-life situations, for the rest of their lives. Last night, their body language suggested that invisible wildlife lurked in the forest so we practiced recalls, with wild R leading the way.
However, despite not chasing wildlife and reliably coming when called, I have no doubt that K and R stress wildlife - flushing grouse, scaring up deer and elk, and sniffing out bears. K even treed a lion once - but, in that case, I was happy with her action because he was too close to us for comfort. But, we try to mitigate the dogs' stress-inducing effects by keeping them under control.

It's a tough balancing act - trying to protect our wildlife, enjoy the forest ourselves, and give our dogs the exercise and stimulation that they need.

Now that R has no limitations on his running, he 'needs' two bouts of trail exercise a day: a morning run and an evening hike. If I'm late in starting the evening hike, R starts moving those dog beds to the far end of the house, one-by-one, just like he did when he was recuperating from elbow surgery. On our evening hike, assuming no obvious wildlife is nearby, the dogs run off-leash with me supervising them.

Yesterday evening, we hiked up to a spot that I'm starting to think of as S's lookout point, and the sun, hanging just below the mountains, still illuminated the clouds hanging over the Divide.
Over my shoulder, the almost full moon glowed in the darkening pink and blue sky.
This morning, while R ran with my husband, K and I had a joyous ride through the quiet forest. K's energy and enthusiasm seem wonderful after only a week on her new thyroid medicine. The problem is that, based on my past experience, she shouldn't be feeling *this* good after just a week. We're probably going to overshoot with medicine dosage and then be forced to readjust. Such is life with a medically complicated dog like K.

We rode through a shady green sea of aspens with splashes of yellow imperceptibly growing larger each day. I stopped in my tracks to appreciate the vibrating life in the grove. I could hear the buzzing and clicking of insects, the rustling of birds flitting in and out of the undergrowth, and the quaking of the aspen leaves.I know that this grove will look and sound as barren as it did in May within a short time.
After I dropped off K, I followed an 'old faithful' route that I love. A few flowers still bloomed but the berries dominated now. Red currants (Ribes cereum) glowed red on bushes whose leaves are fading from green to yellow. I featured these bushes back when they bloomed with tiny pink flowers frequented by hummingbirds. I'm told that these berries aren't sweet but that the bears eat them to help build an autumn layer of fat.
Behind the currants, storms brewed around a faraway towering peak. The clouds made a dramatic backdrop.I rolled along my favorite ridge, doing my usual scanning to figure out what animals had traveled this way recently. In the middle of the trail, I saw fresh bobcat scat in a depression scratched out by the wild feline. I spotted fairly recent coyote scat. And, I noted a huge hole at the base of a stump, originally dug by a bear, that someone had recently expanded. Finally, a bear cub left behind a berry seed laden scat. Wow, that's lots of activity!

And, I enjoyed watching the horizon and our beautiful mountains. I love when the sun and clouds create a patchwork of bright and dark on the rocky peaks.
I remembered to be grateful that I'm capable of pedaling through this glory. I am indeed lucky.

K's confidence and smoke-hidden mountains

In the great news category, K's fears are evaporating as fast as they appeared. Because she'd twice walked through the agility area with no signs of fear, we spent 2 minutes yesterday afternoon negotiating some obstacles. She breezed through the course with ease and enthusiasm. I didn't push my luck and stopped her while she exuded excitement and confidence. What a difference a week and a medicine change can make!

In the past, her fears of the agility course have endured longer than her other fears. After tweaking her thyroid medications, we'd see some normalcy return to her everyday life but her terror of agility endured for weeks or even months longer. Recently, I started wondering if the reason was that I kept trying to convince her to try her agility obstacles, using treats as incentives, even when she was terrified. By repeatedly letting her 'practice' being afraid of agility, I wondered if the fear became a habit that stayed strong even after her thyroid levels rose toward normal. So, this time, I took a new approach. After her first refusal to do agility, we ignored the agility equipment until she showed signs of recovery in her everyday life. This approach took a lot of self-control for me because I tend to repeatedly confront my own fears to overcome them so I unconsciously impose the same perseverance on K. But, the self-control might have been worth it if it's why she breezed through her agility course yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, fortunately not while K and I played agility, a coyote passed close to our house. Thanks to our wildlife camera, I know that he visited even though the dogs, who were snoozing on the deck, didn't notice him. He looks young, like a dog puppy when he's growing at an unbelievable rate. The coyote's legs look too long and lanky for his body. Moreover, no savvy mountain coyote would so boldly walk through human and domestic dog territory in the middle of the day.
I've read that, at this time of year, the coyote pups start making forays around the territory alone, trying to hunt without grown-up supervision. I wonder if this is a pup who's taking his first solo expeditions. The pups aren't terribly good at hunting by themselves at first so they stay in their parents' territory for help. During this tough rite of passage, the adult pack members regularly call the pups by yipping and howling - and then provide them with food. This meal service becomes less frequent as the winter wears onward toward spring and toward the arrival of a new litter. However, some pups will stay in the territory as yearlings and help raise the new litter.

This information helps me understand why I heard so little howling in the spring and early summer. Our coyote pack's ethereal howls only restarted in late July and early August.

For today, I'd planned a hike up high in the alpine world. However, the smoke had thickened since yesterday and completely hid the mountains. In the photo below, snow fields on high mountains barely glowed through the smoke just above the green aspen trees.
This photo of K is in front of an amazing view of the Divide - not that you could see it today!
I decided against expending precious hiking miles on a day with no visibility. My spine can endure only limited hiking. Maybe the smoke will clear later this week.

I headed out for a mountain bike ride, after using my asthma inhaler for the first time in weeks. Although the medicine kept my breathing free and easy, my eyes stung and spouted tears whenever I went fast. This smoke from fires to our west is the worst that I've seen in years. The world had a tint like a haunted house that made mundane scenes look eerie.
In the midst of a smoke-darkened pine forest, arnica flowers bloomed bright yellow, catching my eye in the murkiness. Tiny flying insects crawled on their pistils, likely doing the work of pollination while drinking nectar.
Almost immediately after seeing the lingering summer wildflowers, I gazed at the first congregation of aspens turning yellow. Prior to this, I've seen single trees turning colors but no groups of yellow aspens.
Soon, the riot of yellow, orange, and red aspens will become our world. What an amazing world we live in!

Say it ain't so!

The world is changing day-by-day, with summer birds departing, migrating birds passing through, the grass turning golden, wildflowers going to seed, and a smattering of aspen leaves tinting yellow.Another rite of autumn is that our beef order form arrived. A herd of heifers has grazed within our sight all summer long. Believe it or not, we buy one every year to feed our dogs. As a puppy, K had seemingly unresolvable digestive distress and was growing too slowly. We tried every commercial food imaginable. With each vet consultation, my vet would quietly suggest that I try making homemade food because she'd seen a few puppies who could only thrive on a simple homemade diet. Finally, in desperation, I tried it. Almost instantly, K began to thrive, and I've been cooking her food ever since.

We buy grass-fed completely natural beef from our across-the-meadow neighbors, and I use a formula given to me by my vet that specifies the proportions of protein, carbs, and veggies. In addition, the vet has a specific list of supplements that dogs on homemade diets need. I make a huge pot of food about once a week, and it's become an easy routine. Not as easy as buying kibble - but I feel secure knowing exactly what my dogs are eating, especially after that horrible dogfood recall fiasco a couple of years ago.

The hardest part for me is watching the young cattle graze idyllically all summer, knowing that my dogs will eventually eat one of them. At least I know that they had a peaceful and easy existence before becoming beef. You can barely see them under towering James Peak in the photo below.
On the day that the beef order form appeared in the mailbox, the herd had congregated almost next to my mailbox to visually remind of what the form meant.
And, further dog health news... As usually happens once we increase K's thyroid medicine after her fear escalates, her courage is improving noticeably each day. She's less afraid of doorways with the exception of the the screen door. It wasn't open widely enough for her earlier today, and she stood paralyzed with her paws glued to the deck. When she's 'normal', she uses her nose to open it further and comes in without my help.
Today, I had the Lab duo as my mountain biking companions again. At one point during the ride, K forged ahead with her brother. It was the first time that she'd emerged from her post behind me since this fear episode started. Sorry for the blur but everything in R's vicinity moves at a blur-inducing pace!To avoid running into the out-of-control dog pack whose behavior I described yesterday, we sprinted straight up the mountainside at the start of our ride. In my hurry to flee the sound of the pack's barking, I barged right into a berry-rich area that we've been avoiding so that the bears can forage in peace. It was our lucky day - no bears!

The dogs did a sit-stay on top of our peak with the misty Divide behind them and the other trailusers now far below us. It never fails - if I want solitude, I need to find the steepest and toughest hill to climb.After dropping off the duo, I pedaled to the east, and a female Blue Grouse watched me pass by. She didn't flee, very odd, making me wonder if her young were nearby. The brood usually stays with their mother into September.
As I rode, clouds crept over a ridge from the east as I climbed. A chill permeated the air. Fall is coming!
From the top of the ridge, I could still see the mountains peeking through the pine trees.
When I rolled down the steep forested slope to the west, I found bevies of raspberries. I love wild raspberries so I stopped for a long break, foraging like a bear. I started thinking about how hard a black bear must work to eat enough berries to build a layer of fat for the winter. I literally can't imagine picking berries one-by-one, eating them, and actually having a caloric excess to store as fat. Based on some quick research, I'm guessing that each tiny wild raspberry has about 1 Calorie so I'd have to eat 3500 raspberries to gain a pound of fat - and that calculation doesn't account for the energy that I'd expend gathering the raspberries. I'm amazed that bears can survive!
As I ate berries, the clouds moved around me, engulfing my world in a mystical aura. A few Coneflowers still bloomed, glowing like beacons in the darkening sky.
I spun home, feeling happy after a relaxing ride in my forest!