Wildlife @ Wilkinsville (Part 2)

Note to readers:  I started this collection of thoughts in September but just finished up today.  Please excuse any spelling or grammar infringements.  If you correct me I will fix them, but otherwise just go with the flow.

SNAKES...  The one thing that I never thought of, and probably should have, were snakes. 

We had just started getting the detached garage ready to turn it into a shop for our embroidery business, so we were spending more time hanging out in there and thinking about arrangements.  I had taken my laptop to the proposed area for my computer work to see if I could get any kind of wifi internet reception from the house.  Both Brian, myself and the dogs were just hanging. 

We noticed that Lucy, our little Chiwiennie dog was paying very close attention to the axis where the walls meet the floor.  We just figured that a little lizard came in while the garage door was open or something like that and had not given it much thought.   Once a mother, always a mother and always visually glancing about for her charges to make sure they aren't in any trouble or about to get into any trouble.  I saw Lucy stretch her neck and pull it back (walk like an Egyptian; or gosh now that songs going through my head) and I looked a little closer.  Holy moley and what did I see...

I grabbed Lucy and made the dogs go into the x-pen we had set up for dog containment and got Brian's attention to come and look.  I always have to remind people that we are born and raised Southern Cali-for-nians and to us this was tantamount to a fire breathing dragon.  Of course, once we did our wow's I told Brian, "Don't do anything until I go get my camera.  Beat him off with a stick if you have to, but don't let him leave until I take a picture."

Originally posted to Facebook.  He was not happy about being poked with a stick!

So I ran up to the house, grabbed my camera and ran back down the driveway to the "shop".  So, I took my series of photos I looked and Brian, Brian looked at me and well, I took on the roll of damsel in distress and assumed he would take on the roll of hero.  Not knowing any better he proceded to offer this snakes head on a platter to himself.  Wow, what a day that turned out to be.

After posting the pic to my Facebook friends and family I got several links about what kind of snake it was, et cetera.  Come to find out that it was probably a rat snake (thanks son) and probably wouldn't really hurt us.  Nevertheless, Niece Michelle told us that the only good snake is a dead snake and when it shows up and invites itself in my house I'm not going to try and find out his/her guest manners.

Then a week or so later Brian comes to get me to go see what he found.  Yep, you guessed it, yet another snake.  This one he found IN OUR HOUSE GARAGE!  Too close for comfort for me, but by the time I saw it it was already outside waiting for his photo shoot.  He/she was not smiling.



I think that this episode just about exhausted my need for summer adventures.  But, oh no, feeling like I was in the Land of the Lost was just not going to release it's hold on me.  Red eye turtles in the front flower beds, crawling centipedes as long as my flip off finger.  Mushrooms with mullet looking hair doo's.  What's a California girl to do?

I tell you what...  I think at least once or twice a day Brian would call me out, or I would call Brian out to see the phenomenom we called living on the Cumberland Plateau in the State of Tennessee.  Which leads me into my next sharing exercise and it is not for the weak of stomach.  I'll certainly keep it short and... and... can't say sweet for sure.  Well, it was deer poop.  I think it may have been deer poop or some sort of animal of the larger persuasion.   The subject of our looky-loo of the day was found out under the pear tree.  A  huge pile of some sort of animal poop.  The extraordinary thing to us was that is was covered in butterfles and these butterflies were like all excited to be at the party.  There's video,  but I won't subject my readers to that drama.

On that closing note my collection of Wildlife @ Wilkinsville photos can be found at this link in the "Links" section to the right of this writing appropriately named...

I can't help but wonder what adventures our next summer in Tennessee will bring us. 



LIONS, TIGERS AND BUGS, OH NO!

This entry is long overdue and will be a compilation of my “Battle of the Bugs”, or “What I Did Over the Summer”.

Things that bite in the night...  All of the various biting bugs were really glad that we arrived at our new home in Tennessee. New restaurant in town, yee haw, “let’s go taste some of that California blood.” And, boy did they ever. It didn’t take me long to realize that the mosquitoes were eating me alive. Yes, and sneaky buggers to boot! I didn’t hear them buzz or feel them bite… until the bumps. My legs looked like I had some sort of dreaded death inducing disease. New rule; as much as I hate insect repellent, I have one can in the garage, one can on the patio and some in my bathroom cabinet. Lined up… deodorant, anti-itch cream, insect repellent and anti-monkey butt. (I’ll get to the monkey butt later).

A word about spiders... I didn’t even think that the world had this many spiders. Holy arachnophobia! Keep in mind that our home had sat vacant for three months before our arrival and without any insect control chemical applied the spiders were literally coming out of the wood work. Although not too bad inside the house as I’ll bet there was still some residual spay still effectively working, the out of doors and the detached garage were overrun with spiders that looked like a tiny pea with long ol’ legs. 

Shortly after we arrived, I attacked (cleaned) the screened in patio.  I have never seen pollen up close and personal until I started cleaning the patio tiles; it was thick on the tile and caked the screens.  Shop vac in tow I went to town on the patio.  Little did I know that spiders lived under the vinyl siding on the house.  They were literally coming out of the woodwork.  I took on the stance of a sword fencing artist and sucked up every spider that dared to poke it's eight ugly legs in my path. 

Ewww

I hoped that I would not have nightmares of those spiders crawling out of the shop vac to get even with me.

More on spiders... I don’t know maybe it's a mid-spring nature thing, but shortly after we moved I was out walking one of the dogs in the driveway and spotted this huge, and I’ll shout it HUGE spider. I yelled for Brian to come and look and he comes out to see that the ruckus was. He looked and asked if I wanted him to kill it. Truth be known, I didn’t expect an execution, but since he was willing to come to my rescue, well heck yes, put it down! I have never seen the likes of what happened next… Brian found a flip-flop and tapped the spider and about 100 baby spiders started scrambling in every direction. Gross!!! Here’s a photo of the spider about 12 hours after it’s demise. 

Did I mention that Brian doesn’t like to kill anything, well except stinging type flying creatures...

Stinging type flying creatures...  Without a moments respite, I had my run in with the mud-daubers.   I knew we had them; I would see small nests everywhere.  Every time we went to Lowe's or Ace Hardware I would grab a can of "wasp & hornet" spray.  I pretty much kept a can in my tool belt.  Well, I really didn't wear a tool belt, but I always had a can handy.

One morning I decided to put a couple of bug bombs in the attic space above the detached garage.  I grabbed the cans on got on special at the Dollar General, newspapers (as instructed) and headed up the stairs to the man door.

Who knew? I was certainly unsuspecting; all I wanted to do was kill some bugs.

 I got about half way up the stairs and all of a sudden a mud-dauber was hovering right around my face.  I started swatting and then another and another!  I made the flash decision that I wasn't winning this battle since I was being stung and my swats were doing squat.  I turned to descend the stairs and as quickly as I wanted to get away from my adversaries I needed to be careful not to fall down the outside stairs.  Finally down the stairs and ran to the house screaming for Brian. 

I counted five assaults on my hands, arms and legs.  Once calmed down, I got pissed.  I took mud-daubers to the net and everything I read pointed out that they will not sting unless provoked.  Bull pucky I say!  Then husband Brian mentioned that I was trying to smack them around.  So, okay, they were provoked when I stomped up the stairs (rocked their world I guess) and I guess they did feel provoked when the human arms tried to knock them into the  next county. 

Not to be outdone, I wildly went through unpacked boxes to find my sweatpants and a hoodie.  Put my battle armour on, grabbed a full can of wasp spray and headed to the offending fortress.

Assuming it was somewhere under the stairs, imagine the horror of finding this community of nests.  After emptying an entire can of spray I thought I had won.  Come to find out, a few weeks later, Brian was going to go up the stairs to the attic and after about two steps the mud-daubers started flying around again.  I was stumped.  After careful surveillance I realized that nest I had been looking for was actually under the railing.  I did what needed to be done and on to the next adventure.

Coming next.... Snakes!

SKY'S STORY (PART THREE)

We had hoped that they were running together. Even when Abby was found we concentrated on the area Abby was found in.  I printed up more fliers with just Sky's photo and plastered it (illegally) on every other telephone pole on every street we went down.  We stopped every runner, we stopped and talked to every person working in their yards.   When we told our neighbors they also went in areas in the other directions.  Saturday turned out to be a bust and we finally gave up.  The plus is that she is chipped and I could only assume that shelters and vets automatically scan for chips.  This fact provided a little calm which we so needed at this point.  I could not take joy in finding Abby because, one she wasn't home and two, Sky was still missing.  We would go out searching and come home to wait.

We came home frustrated and Sunday morning I decided to print up half sheets and planned to tape them on mailboxes in the area where Abby was found as well as streets in completely opposite direction.  I went into already covered areas and again, taped the flier on to mailboxes.  We had people we talked to give us good suggestions... get the flier to local radio stations, newspapers, etc.  All well and good except it was a holiday weekend the the public was pretty much shut down until Tuesday.  I had one wonderful woman ask me to get her a full size flier and she would tape it to her car window and drive around and hopefully, someone would see it and call. 

Early afternoon, Sunday, we got a lead.  One of the runners we talked to on Saturday was talking to her husband about the lost dog people, and he said that he saw a "shaggy" dog at the trash dumpsters.  This meant that Sky and Abby had never been together. Abby went east and Sky went west.

The trash dump is where we take our trash.  We have the choice of pick up or deliver. We deliver because it's free.  They have one attendant here to push a button and compact the trash in the dumpster. So after the call we high-tailed it over to the dump.  We didn't see Sky wandering around so we asked the attendant if we could post a flier.  What better place than the dump?  Everybody goes there.  Well, the local yokel tells me that this isn't his station as he's just filling in for the holiday so we couldn't give me permission to post. 

I am so fed up with this holiday.  So far this damn holiday has lasted me a lifetime.  Now I was concerned because the dump is next to Highway 70 Sparta Highway.  Speed limit 55mph.  However if she chose to "go on" in the same direction she could have gone down the Old Sparta Highway which runs parallel to 70, but is a two lane with homes on each side.  Out with the tape and the fliers.  After a few miles we decide to head back home again.  We got side tracked a lot.  We would see a street that we hadn't covered and turned on it to talk to anybody out and tape up fliers.  

So now it is late afternoon and we're going to call it a day and head home because we've been "on the road" since 8:00 a.m.  My phone rings and it's a lady, very excited, telling me to hurry,  "I think your dog is in our field!" She gives us her address and we rush over.  We pass the house, have to turn around and they met us at the truck.  "See her out there?  In the back of the field?"  Sure did!  Both Brian and I jumped out of the truck and started yelling her name.  It was like a Lassie movie... this little head pops up in the hay field and stares in our direction.  We yell her name again and then I see this little head bobbing up and down toward us.  The field was surrounded by barbed wire and Brian had to run quite a ways down the field to get over.  He picked her up and carried her back to the gate and to me.

Sky's finding field, way in the back.

I have to say that it was really a very weird sensation.  The first night our girls were gone, I had a dream.  I didn't dream about Abby, but I did dream about Sky.  Brian was carrying her to me and she was ragged but okay.    As they came closer, I thought about the dream and thought about how weird it was. Brian was carrying her in the same position as it happened in my dream.

The couple that called us said that she had been in their field the day before, but didn't see our flier until their morning walk on Sunday. They were worried that she would get lost again, because (one) the lady didn't have her cell phone on her and had to run into the house and, (two) she had to run to the mailbox that had the flier on it in order to call us. They were a great couple. The husband was a State Trooper and didn't chastise us for posting fliers illegally on telephone poles. Brian promised that we would drive around and remove the fliers.

After a short chat and many thanks to the couple who called us, we loaded Sky in the truck and headed home.  She was a mess and stank like stagnant ponds and woods.  She had a twig about half-inch in diameter and three inches long matted to the back of her right front legs.  Cut that out and looked for any ticks I could find and hosed her down and gave her a bath.  I sat in the driveway and brushed her and while I was brushing her belly she fell fast asleep.  She was exhausted and didn't even wake up when Brian came out to check on us. 

Poor baby, that's when I noticed that her paws were a mess.  The front paws were swollen twice their size and part of the pads were missing.  Sometimes when she walked both legs would just collapse.  She had a bite/sting on her nose and her muzzle was slightly swollen. 

About that time my phone rang and the lady on the other end said, "Hey you the lady with the lost dog?  She kinda calico lookin' with blue eyes?"  I said, "Yes, but we just found her and have her home now."  She said, "Oh my Lord, she was in my house last night, but I didn't see the flier until today.  I leave the door cracked for my doxie to go in and out and when I got home your dog was in my house!  My daughter said she saw the dog in our driveway about 3:00 p.m. today."   Bless Sky's heart, she was just trying to find a home to sleep in.

It's been a month now.  Sky has been checked out by the vet and has a clean bill of health.  It took her three weeks before she even showed an interest in playing Frisbee. I think she was truly depressed over the loss of Abby.  All she did was lie around and sigh. I would take her out for a walk and she stuck close to my knee and sometimes even hung behind.  She also refused to go near the woods.  I picked up some poop and was walking to the woods to toss it in and she stopped short about ten feet from the edge and dug the paws in.  I didn't realize it until I found I was dragging a leash and collar and no dog.  I turned around and she was just standing there looking at me, then the woods, then me.  I could swear she was shaking her head back and forth like NO WAY MOM.  I know she wasn't but still...

Sky, that calico lookin' dog with the blue eyes.

REALIZATION AND RECOVERY (PART TWO)

While we were waiting to pick up Abby, we had the task of nursing and loving on Sky.  I had thought that the only good thing about having to wait for Abby was spending much needed time nursing Sky back to health.   Nevertheless, I was up and getting ready at the crack of dawn, getting ready to go pick up Abby. 

At 9:30am I was ready to go but not understanding the apprehension I was feeling.  The shelter is off highway 127 and if you pass the turn up to the County Shelter you find yourself heading out of town.  However, once you make the turn you head up a hill. The road is paved but as you arrive at the shelter you find the road unkempt and erie. As we made the last turn before the "gate" that blocks the road up to the buildings I held my breath until we turned the curve and saw the gate was open. This was a big plus since we sat in front of that gate for many hours the day before mentally willing it to open.  As Brian parked the truck, I twisted my head in every direction looking for the kennel my baby was held hostage in. 

She was not in the "front" kennels, but I knew they had many more in the back, but was still disappointed not to see my sweet, scared pup.  So, we open the office door and the administrator comes out and we tell her we've come for our dog;  big black and white with a purple harness.  She got a very confused look on her face and told us that she didn't think she had a dog by that description.  My panic set in and told her she must be wrong, "Animal Control called me Saturday morning and assured me he picked up my dog and brought her here."  Matter of factly, she mentioned that she did have a dog escape over the weekend but would double check.  I stood at the counter with tears running down my face; this COULD NOT BE HAPPENING.  

She came back in with that same bewildered look and I could tell she was trying to figure out what to "tell these people" (us).  About that same time a woman came in to the office on other business and obviously saw the distress happening in that small reception room.  Right away she "picked up" on the issue and at her confused expression the Shelter Warden briefly explained what happened.

She took a deep breath, let out a sigh and mentioned that on Saturday night she saw a big black and white dog on the road.  We showed her the photo and she said she could not be sure, but would go back to the location and see what she could find.  That's when it hit me.  The dog she saw on the road had been run down.  I can't explain the desperation I felt, the desperation that Brian felt.  I sobbed and all he could do was hold me.

I walked out side the compound gates and yelled at the top of my lungs into those Tennessee hills, "ABBY, ABBY, ABBY".  It was so quiet I was hoping to hear that bark in the distance telling me she heard me and to wait.  Nothing.  We finally got in the truck and drove slowly down that dreaded road that I had been up so many times in the last couple of days.

We got to the highway and normally where we would turn right toward home, we turned left (which headed out of town).  We saw Karen crossing the street so we pulled over to see what we could find out.  She explained that she found a patch of black fur across the road but did not find anything.  Brian got out of the truck while I stayed behind and crossed the street.  He ventured down off the side of the road and that's where he found the remains of my sweet baby Abby.

She had been hit Saturday night and this was Wednesday.  I cannot tell you the awful condition she was in.  I was pacing behind the truck, sobbing because I knew in my heart she was gone.  Both Brian and Karen suggest that I NOT go look.  But wisely, Brian asked me if I wanted closure, "did you want to know for sure?" I don't know what it was, but for some reason I felt I owed it to Abby to tell her goodbye to her face, regardless of how empty it was.  It was awful, but I dont' regret it.  I don't think about it, I can't let myself.

Brian asked me what I wanted to do. All I could think of was that I had to get away, I needed to get off this road and go home.  She was gone and the pile of fur was not her.  We got in the truck and headed to the nearest place where Brian could wash his hands and again, he met Karen in the store.  She told him that if he wanted to get some bags and gloves she would help him retrieve her and the she assured him that the shelter would cremate her and give me her ashes.  So that's what they did.  My husband is a saint and Karen was my angel.

That was the first time Abby ever rode in the back of the truck.  When we got back to the shelter the shelter lady met us at the gate.  I watched her cradle that garbage bag as she carried Abby to the cooler.  It did give me some comfort that she wasn't on the side of the road and that I would get her back.

It is worth mentioning again that my husband is a saint and this stranger, Karen, was our angel.  I believe that it was Divine timing that Karen was on the road that night and saw Abby and looked hard enough to be able to tell that she was a big, black and white dog.  I believe it was Divine timing that she came into the shelter just at the precise moment that I was hysterical.  I believe it was a gift from on high that she helped us in the way she did.  Would I do the same? Probably not, but I would like to think I would. 

During the course of all that happened, we found out that she volunteers her time helping unclaimed, adoptable animals get on transports to rescue organizations. 85% of the dogs that come into that shelter never leave. She is also in the process of building a Sanctuary for the purpose of taking as many of the unwanted animals and rehabilitating them and keeping them until they find a home... or not.   She also owns "A Time 4 Paws Pet Hotel" where all proceeds from the Hotel go to a Time 4 Paws Sanctuary Fund.

When I told her that I would be willing to help in anyway I could, she gave me a card with her info. Since I had her info, I felt it was important to get her photos of my Abby so she would know her as she really was, not what she saw on the side of the road. 

In response to my email she wrote, "I'm so sorry you are in pain at this time. I know how hard it is. I truly believe in my heart she was trying to find her way back to you. That is why she broke out. The love and dedication these dogs give us is amazing. I am sorry for your loss.



I am thankful for you though that you can have closure unlike so many that go lost. It was truly a miracle that I so clearly saw her colors and marking in that dark nite. I didn't want to go to that party I was tired from a long day of yard saleing to make money for my sanctuary. But now I know the reason why the universe was telling me to go. And as distraught as I was that day going to see Andrea over some sick parvo pups, I was able to take my mind off of my own tragedy and help you, SO thank you as well. I have been overloaded helping everyone since this community is in the shape its in with animal care. I am glad I was able to help you in your time of need. I hope us getting your babies ashes will once again help with the pain. Best wishes. Karen McMeekin"

If is wasn't for this person, I would probably still be looking for my dog. I'm grateful that I know, but it does not give me comfort when I think about the last 24 hours of her life she spent frightened, alone and lost.  It breaks my heart.  I cannot imagine the desperation of losing a human child.  This must be tantamount to it because it hurts so much.  I just can't say, "she was just a dog", she was my companion that gave me unconditional love, that looked me in the eye and tried to tell me what she wanted, that demanded my love and attention.    I miss her so much.

Abby Wilkins
November 24, 2001 - July 3, 2010

WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DOGS? (PART ONE)

The evening of July 2, 2010, we loaded up the truck with tables and chairs and readied to take them over to Brian’s sisters house for huge family festivities that were taking place over the holiday weekend. We crated the dogs, closed the slider screen to the outside screened patio and took off.

I can’t remember what time we left, but it was early evening daylight. We didn’t even think about fireworks. I should have since I had heard distant firecrackers the day before. We arrived home about 9:30 p.m. and went to let the pups out of their crates and stood at the door shocked. Two of the crate doors were wide open. Dumfounded, I looked around and saw that the sliding screen door (which is broken and very hard to open) was opened just wide enough for dogs to fit through. I went into the screened in patio and saw that the screen on the door going to the back was no longer secured into the door. Running outside yelling “Abby… Sky…” over and over and hearing nothing back but the silence of the dark night.

The only thing we could do was get in the car and drive the streets of our “development” looking for our missing dogs. We drove slowly up and down streets knowing that our dogs knew the sound of Brian’s diesel truck; my dogs knew when Daddy was coming home minutes before I did because of the sound of his truck. We live in what is called a development, however just about each house is surrounded by thick woods. Moving here was our dream, that night, not so much.

We came home to a mostly sleepless night. Even though we had the hole in the screen I had Brian prop the screen door open and turn on the flood lights in the back just in case they found their way home during the night. I would wake up and look out the window overlooking the patio to see if my precious pups made it home. Nothing.

The first thing I did the next morning was to pull out the phone book to get locations of the shelters in the area. I found three numbers: Animal Control, County Animal Shelter and the City Humane Society. I called Animal Control since they opened at 7:00a.m. and he explained that A/C picks up reported stray animals and delivers them to the shelters depending on where they are picked up at. I gave them a description and my phone number and told them I would be bringing a flier by their office so they could get a good visual on my babies. We handed out fliers to every person we saw. Many people told of the fireworks of the night before. During the couse of several conversations, we found out that the people down the street from us had what was described as a “commercial display” shortly after dark.

We hit the road again in on the streets behind out house. When I got to the Animal Control office, the agent wasn’t there, but I stuffed a flier into the crack of his office door. I do live in civilization, but most of the homes are anywhere from 2 acres to 5+ acres so it’s not heavily populated. We also have state owned property behind our house. Woods so thick that the only time you can walk around is during the winter when all the foliage looses leaves and the brush goes bare. Looking was frustrating because what were once hallways of green beauty, turned into the ugly jungle that had my dogs.

After hours of looking we came home to wait. The first call was the animal control officer! He told me he had picked up Abby and had taken her to the County Shelter but they were closed for the weekend and I could not pick her up until Tuesday at 10:00 a.m. He told me that he did see Sky but told me where he found Abby so maybe I could look in that area. I was joyous that they found Abby but still frantic about Sky. So we hit the road posting new fliers with just Sky’s photo on it. This entry is about Abby and I will share my Silly Skylie’s story later.

Waiting for Tuesday, July 6, was like an eternity for us. We kept telling ourselves Abby was safe, but I was worried that she may have injured herself in her night in the woods. There are all kinds of critters that Abby would not know what kind of behaviors to expect. Abby was my hunter she loved chasing lizards, frogs and the first time she saw a deer she really, really needed to investigate that animal. I was worried about what kind of food she was being fed in the shelter. Corn makes her scratch so I expected to see most of her fur licked off her legs. She’s allergic to fleas/ticks and she was due for her next application of flea and tick treatment. She was a high maintenance dog and I knew I was in for vet bills when I got her home.

Tuesday morning we drove to the shelter at 10:00 a.m. I just didn’t “feel” right. The gate up the road was closed and pad locked. I would call and call and got the same message over and over again…. “Due to short staffing and the holiday weekend, the shelter would be closed until 10:00 a.m. Tuesday July 6.” I kept called Animal Control and they explained that they didn’t work for the shelter, they just dropped off the dogs. I pleaded, “what can I do, how can nobody be here”. What about these dogs? Do they have food/water?

My wonderful friend, Kathy Mills, also got on the phone trying to contact the shelter and animal control and every one she could think of. A/C suggested we contact the county offices to see what we could find out. Kat called the Mayor’s office and got the “well, I don’t know…” which wasn’t acceptable to my friend. She gave the gal on the phone “what for” and asked her how she would feel if her animals were being held hostage and how would she feel if she could not get any answers. Kat gave the Mayor’s office my name and phone number. I called about 1:00 myself and the gal knew who I was and assured me that she was trying to find out something and would call me the minute she heard anything.

About 2:00 that afternoon the Mayor’s office called me informed me that the one full time staff person was ill and the shelter would not open until the next day. She assured me I could pick up my dog at 10:00 a.m the following day. She assured me that all the animals are fed/watered daily by the part time kennel person they have on staff. Oh, I was mad and so worried about Abby’s condition. All this time, I did not know she was dead.

POOP SCOOPIN' (uses S*** word)

I'm having real issues with shit.  And, apparently I am not the only one that has issues.  Just think about the sayings there are about the word...

-- Shit on a shingle (I think that's a jail term for some kind of food item. But, I wouldn't know).
-- Shit hits the fan
-- Holy Shit Batman (it was censored, but I'm sure Robin said it.)
-- Scared the shit out of...
-- In a world of Shit
-- Shit, I forgot!

I'm sure there are more but today was "shit on a tree" for me!  Uh, I guess I had better explain.

My dilemma since we've arrived with the dogs in Tennessee is what to do with it.  We are not supposed to put it in the trash; the dump where we take out trash clearly states on the sign that we are not to bring animal waste. 

My sister-in-law Sandy said toss it in the woods; that's what people do with it. She reasoned with me that there are all sorts of critters in the woods and they all do the natural thing right there and they don't worry about where. Ugh, coming from the public dog world in California poop is collected, bagged and thrown away.  Old habits are hard to break, but I'm trying.

So, I buy the spring loaded model of this contraption designed for ease and style.  Only takes a few minutes and a little thought to figure out how to pick it up, but it's a little more tricky to get the groove of the toss and release in the woods.  We have five acres of woods next door that's privately owned, but not developed.  We also have woods at the back of our property that is too dense to walk about in until the leaves fall. Call me selfish, but I choose the woods next to us instead of us.   

As I said the swing back and release is crucial.  My first toss failed miserably and I dropped the "treasures" just a few feet away my side of it's intended target and had to perform the re-pick move.  Finally, the turds found a resting place, but I figured that like anything, practice makes perfect.  With four dogs I had to get better so I picked up fallen apples and practiced the toss and release... obviously the success is in the release. 

Feeling proficient, as well as the pups getting back to normal after a food change I was feeling pretty confident about the motions, but not comfortable with the disposal.  Those old pick/bag/dispose habits made the toss/forgettabout attitude hard to deal with. 

Bottom line is after I successfully played poop darts with a tree, the next time I made a trip into town to the Walmart I picked up 150 poop bags.  I know I'm not supposed to take them to the dump, but I need to work on my attitude before trying the woods thing again.

PAT'S MISADVENTURE

My GPS has made me pretty direction stupid and I just follow where she says to go. As well, I've come to the conclusion that she's mad at me because I have her running on 2008 software.  She got me good the other day. 

I was just going to the Tractor Supply to pick up dog food...

I wanted to try the back way route out of our neighborhood and keyed in the Kroger store because it's in the same shopping strip.  I didn't pay attention to the street nor the miles my "gal" told me it would be and took off.  I knew I was okay the first 3 or 4 turns and then "she" told me to turn right instead of left when I was probably three quarters of the way there. 

I start on the every day basic road and then I'm going through residential areas where the roads are twisting and turning, doing the roller coaster thing.  I always wondered what "through hill and dale" meant and I'm thinking I was pretty close to that.  Anyhoo, what was supposed to be a 4 mile and 15 minutes drive has turned out to be going on 45 minutes and I was clueless to where I was at.  I did have that false sense of security a GPS gives, but was seriously wondering about my "gal".  I finally realize that I'm in Lake Tansi, which is way south of my neighborhood Kroger store, but giving in to my "gal" the benefit of the doubt and my love of adventure I kept moving on.  However, when I got to this road...

I'm thinking maybe I better think of an alternative.  So, after several more miles of similar terrain I decide I would change my direction and head for home.  That's when I realized that my GPS was set on "shortest distance" and she was taking me as the crow files, but obviously not to my Kroger.

After changing from "shortest" to "fastest" she put me on a different road...

... and then I did start to see repeat streets and two hours later after finally finding my local Tractor Supply and Kroger I pulled into the driveway. 

Thanks for "listening".