I Like Big Butts

Alright, it's time to bring out the big guns.

Horses.

I like big butts and I cannot lie... Big horse butts that is. Because of who I grew up with, the only natural looking horses to me are the big, muscular Quarter Horses and Paints.

With big butts!

What most of you don't know about me is that half of my life was spent on horseback. Dogs took over only after a riding accident that both shook me up and halted my equine 'career'. Who knows what the face of this blog would look like if that accident had never happened. I can almost guarentee you that I'd still only have Jake and rescue wouldn't even be in my vocabulary.

The barn I learned everything from is amazing. The crew, the trainer, they were like my second family.  I, like most young girls, was horse crazy.  But, unlike most young girls, I was given opportunities that most kids can only dream of.  I was surrounded by people who wanted me to succeed in the horse world as much as I did.

I haven't been on horseback in a number of years. Since my accident really.  I still love them tremendously, and the longer I go without them, the more I realize how engrained they are in my soul.  I have to have horses again, and luckily, Red understands this.  And luckily, I understand that i cant keep a horse in the backyard.  So I'll wait until we move somewhere where I can keep a horse in the yard.  (Like a farm, guys. C'mon)

I did a lot of showing. Western Pleasure, mostly.  I didn't love it like my friends did.  But I did it and I learned a ton.  I rode a horse who didnt much care of it either. Doc, the old cow horse. He hung in there with me through my show phases.  But now from an 'outsider's' perspective, I'm beginning to lose my understanding of just where 'western pleasure' comes from.

Here is a video I pulled randomly from Youtube. Watch.

Now tell me that that doesn't look torturous to that horse?  It's not torturous. Not really.  But who decided that it should be natural for a horse to have such an insanely collected trot and lope/canter that I could walk faster on my own two feet than that horse would go at either gate?

That's why Doc and I were never good at it.  We wanted to stretch our legs over open fields with nothing more than a halter and leadrope to guide us. And the more I see this, the more I'm happy that I dont do it anymore. I love going to the shows. I love helping to dress up the horses and I loved the training. I loved every single aspect of showing horses. Except for when it actually came time to walk into that ring. I hated it. Every minute of it. Maybe it's the lack of competitiveness in me. Maybe I just didn't want my horse to be as unhappy as I knew he would be for those 5 minutes in the ring.

I used to have this obsession with a horse called 'Kid Clu'.  He was the biggest, most powerful stallion I'd ever seen.  The buckskin above is his son. I like them BIG!

Disc Dog & A Video!

If you've followed my blog for any period of time, you realize that dogs are pretty much the center of my life. Every blog entry mentions them to some degree.  Last year I was struggling with the disappointment in realizing that my baby, Kirby, may never be a frisbee dog. And then with the help of my disc doggin friends, I overcame that started working Kirby in other things. 

Kirby only really saw a frisbee once over the long, cold winter, on Christmas Day, when I shot the 'Aussie Christmas Disc' video. Then it was put away again for another handful of months.

Kirby and I completed beginner obedience and worked on crate games through the winter to keep us occupied. Minnesota winters suck.  But in that time, Kirby and I formed a new relationship.  Now he's so my baby boy.

Kirby was still showing a lot of distraction early in the spring when we started playing frisbee again. But I focused on Frankie and didn't push Kirby.  I signed him up for agility and was completely to terms with my non-disc Aussie boy.  He is good at just about everything else I throw his way.

Three weeks ago, we had a frisbee playdate with a few of the club members.  I brought both Aussies just so that Kirby could have some fun and its just good socialization for him.  I took him out when everybody had gone through once with their dogs, and he started catching throw after throw.  He's never really caught them out of the air.  Was this a one time thing?  Is he just feeling good?  Jealous because all of the other dogs are playing disc in front of him?

DK took him out a second time and again, he was catching and flipping.  I was so excited!  The next day, I took him into the backyard to try again, and was bummed to find that he was more interested in eating the new grass than playing frisbee with me.  But that was fine. He had a blast at the playdate.

Last weekend, Kirby made his disc doggin debut. It was his first comp, and he played well enough that it was worth it for him to go out and have some fun.  Even if he wasnt taking it seriously, he still is clearly having a blast when he plays.  He's such a dork.  Even DK commented on what a doofus he was, but that he was having fun.  That's all that matters anyways, right?

But interestingly enough, he never got distracted.

In the past couple of weeks, we've been building it up.  He is less distracted now and seems to want to play.  And his eye/mouth coordination is finally matured enough that he can jump and catch them from mid air.  He makes me think of Kai, a black bi Aussie of Jason and Andrea's in Florida. I've never met this couple, but I've followed their blog for months and they are Aussie and disc crazy like me. Plus, they are such sweet people and both have offered me so much advice. Kai was acting similar to Kirby in the beginning.  Distracted, uninterested.  Young.  But they have since turned Kai into an up and coming rockstar. Their advice, paired with advice from my own club, is starting to pay off I think.  I couldn't be happier!

I was of mind enough to shoot a short video.  It's shakey because I'm trying to play and shoot at the same time. But you'll get the idea.  Enjoy!

*disclaimer* I realize how rediculous I sound in this video. Don't judge. Kirby loves the baby talk.
Thank you and have a nice day.

Every Cry at Work?

I have. Usually it's over an animal. 

This time, it was over an animal.

Next time... it will likely be over an animal.  And animal that I couldn't save. An animal that I can't save. An animal that I have no room for.  And animal, likely a dog, that nobody will save. 

Don't watch this video if you don't want to cry at work.  I just did, and I cried. When the last clip came before the message, it was a feeling of devestation. I know this stuff goes on, but to watch it and have it embedded in my memory doesn't help. 

This is why I do dog rescue. This is why I will never stop.

Scream Like Banshee

Dogs Deserve Better.  They got me into this mess.  I never did dog rescue prior to DDB.  I blame them!

No, I don't blame them for anything.  The rescue's efforts are for a cause that I believe in and feel very strongly about.  I don't believe in 'outside dogs'.  You can't tell me that a dog would prefer to sit outside chained to a mudhole than be inside sleeping in front of your fireplace.

Anyways, don't get me started on that rant.  I've fostered dozens and dozens of dogs for DDB in the past years.  And every single one of them posed some sort of challenge for me.  There have been many different occassions where I could do nothing but sit on the steps and cry while my foster dogs turned into tazmanian devils and wreaked havoc on my home and my relationships.  There have been so many times where I felt that giving up was my only option. Throw in the towel. Toss in the sponge. Be done.

And even today there are always tiny flickers of time where I question how much longer I can put myself through this.  Fostering dogs is difficult.  Fostering dogs who have only known life on a chain is near impossible.  There is nothing easy about it.

So the founder of our lovely rescue wrote a book.  Tamira Ci Thayne, also known as Tammy Grimes, knows as well as any of us (or even better) the kinds of difficulties these dogs pose to their foster families.  So she kept a diary of a month when she had a foster dog named Banshee. And she sent us a copy.  And I started reading it last night. 

And it's like she is speaking right to me!  It's as though she read my mind as I tossed away yet another $75 crate that my foster dog tore apart and she responded... through the book. 

Scream Like Banshee.  It's an absolute must read for people who foster dogs for rescue.  Or even for people who own dogs who give them 'guff' every once and a whlie.  It really helps to put things into perspective.  I'm only a few chapters in and with every single page I find myself saying 'Yes! That's exactly how I feel!' 

Scream Like Banshee.  Get it.  Right now!  You won't regret it I promise.   

Australian Shepherds Are Not For Me, & a BSL Rant

It's Friday here at work, and it's caused me to stray once already from my work to look at some Aussie thing. It happens. Anyways, one Aussie thing led me to some other Aussie thing, and link by link, I ended up at this site about Australian Shepherds as a breed and how to decide if they are right for you.

As I read the long description about the breed charactaristics and all that, I decided that if I had read that prior to adopting my first Aussie, I might have changed my mind! I didn't like what they had to say about my breed at all.  Aussies are not for me I guess.

So either that means that the people who write those 'is this breed right for you' things are whack jobs or writing based of their experiences, or my dogs are exceptions to the rule.

Who knows?  I mean, I've only owned 2 Aussies. It's quite possible they aren't 'normal' for the breed standard.  I don't have much experience outside of Frankie and Kirby.  I didn't really care for this person telling me about my Aussies when he didn't know them. Maybe I should re-write the book, eh?  Or maybe not.

And on that note, I still have Annie. Now, I've never owned a Pitbull before, as I'd said.  And I guess while I've never supported BSL, it didn't mean as much to me as it does now.  I have never agreed that people should punish a breed as a whole for the actions of just a few and it angered me that it was happening. But it was just part of rescue and I didn't think much more about it.  Breed Specific Legislation, or BSL, started really making my blood boil once I'd joined the disc dog club.  Wallace and the other Pits I've met through the club have made me even more passionate about the breed than I ever was, and now that I have Annie, I can feel myself bristle everytime I'm walking her and someone gives us an accusing stare or crosses to the other side of the street. 

I'm becoming defensive and protective of her the longer I have her. I live with her. I feed her. I play with her and walk her and train her and I get to spend every spare minute I have with her. How dare anybody else judge her based on news reports and accusations and the actions of idiot owners. This 'menace to society' kisses me good morning every single day.  She wiggles her whole body when Josh or I walk in the door.  She's well mannered and sweet and just a dream to work with.  She has less problems than the majority of my foster dogs in the past.  This Pitbull has taught me a valuable lesson in the time I've had her.  If I didnt have a cat and Josh were a little more lienient, Annie would not leave me. I'm in love with her.  And I no longer feel like I can take this BSL fight laying down.  America is screwing up a brillient, hard-working dog.  It breaks my heart to think that someone might want to put Annie down based on the actions of a famous NFL player. Or a backyard dog fighter. Or an idiot business owner using her as a guard dog. 

Aussies & Pits.  Oh I just heart them!  (And Labs and Corgis too)  :o)

Kirby Agility

It's official. I've finally gotten off my lazy bum and signed Kirby up for agility class.  We finished obedience late last year and I never got around to following up with agility. Partially because I didnt want to drive, and partially because I refused to let go of my dream of Kirby becoming a frisbee dog.

I have since let go of that dream and I'm moving on. For Kirby's sake.  Kirby is, however, making his disc doggin debut this weekend. And not because I'm forcing him...  Well, I mean I am putting him into my truck and driving his ass on up to the comp... But thats not forcing him. I'm doing it because since I've given up my Kirby disc dream, he's actually come out of his shell more and his disc game has improved tremendously.  The other weekend at our indoor playdate, Kirby was catching long throw after long throw, all four feet off the ground, spinning around and bringing them back.  He was flipping and spinning and I was shocked and impressed.  I've since tried him outside with only about half the success, but Kirby is easily distractable outside.  His distraction?  New grass.  How annoying.  He stops mid flight and chews on grass. 

Whatever.  I am happy that Kirby will play just enough to have some fun on the disc field at these comps. If he shows me that it's just not his thing or that he's not enjoying it, we'll stop.  In the meantime, I have high hopes for agility.  He's agile, athletic, smart and highly food motivated. And he did extremely in his obedience class with the clicker method.  So that's the route we'll go. 

We start in about three and a half weeks!  This will mostly be me learning cues and Kirby being introduced to the obsticals. I think he'll have great fun.  He likes to learn and seems to enjoy working things out.  Agility will keep him busy enough.  Cross your fingers for us!

Exhausted

Annie joined me and my family yesterday for an Easter get together.  She met a lot of new people and dogs and she did wonderfully.


We took her hiking with us, along with Frankie and Maggie and my sister's two little dogs.


This is what happened when we arrived home last night.

She wedged herself into a small dog's bed.


Actually, this is what happened when we got home last night.

I love it when this happens!

No Means NO

Unless of course it's in regards to an animal in need. Then 'No' means 'Of course we can take your animal and find it a new home!"


It's no secret in my small farming town that we do dog rescue.  We've had people leave dogs on our doorstep before, and it will likely happen again as long as we live here. But last night we had a first.


Our neighbor lady is a sweetheart. They have dogs of their own and they occasionally leave us bags of dog biscuts hanging on our doorknob for the rescue dogs we have.  Last night there was a knock on the back door.  As I approached the door, I saw through the window that it was the neighbor lady, and she was holding the most gorgeous kitten. My hand touched the doorknob right as I saw the cat. My already knew where this visit was going and began shouting "RUUUUN! Do not answer that door young lady!"  But, pretty kitty!  I was drawn.  She knew I was home anyways.  So I opened the door.


She explained that they had found her curled up on their front porch that morning and the bus stop kids were carrying her around.  I started to give her a firm but polite 'NO', but instead I found myself hollaring for Red.  I couldn't say no.  So he would have to be the meany and say no.  But Red, my knight in shining armour, tells me that the kitty is cute. And agrees that we can take her for a few days while we find a rescue for her.  So much for helping me say no.


So whatever.  We have a new cat for the time being.  I've dubbed her 'Rat Cat' after the giant Ragdoll cat we had as a little girl. he probably wasnt that giant. But when I was 4 years old, he seemed pretty effing huge to me!  The RatCat in my childhood brain remembers only a beautiful sable Ragdoll cat that was half as big as I was. 

She's really a sweetheart. She can't be more than a year old, if that. And she's teeny tiny.  Like 7lbs tiny.

And she's quite the talker. Red looooves that.  Not.

Pibble Love

I've never owned a Pitbull before.  And admittedly, most of my experiences prior to the disc dog club weren't the best.  I won't go into detail, because I understand that none of these dogs were at fault for their issues. It is completely on their owners, because I know for a fact that not one of these dogs is ever walked. The only time they get out of the house is to go to the bathroom.


We fostered a pretty little fawn Pit with a black face a few years ago. Her name was Gia. 

She was a lovely little gal.  Very animal aggressive, as she was a previous fighter, but she loved people and kids to no end. She was a firecracker of endless energy.  I didnt know anything about anything at the time we fostered Gia.  So it was tougher than it should have been.  But we made do.  She was my first Pitty.  And after her, I didn't foster one again.  I viewed them the same way I viewed herding dogs at the time.  TOO MUCH!

Today I own 3 herding dogs, and after my experiences with the club's Pittys, I am becoming more and more enamoured with them.  In fact it took everything I had to pass on and delete the email I got this morning. I human/dog/cat loving blue Pitbull boy who needs a rescue. And he's close to me.  My fingers were itching to type "I'll take him!"  and hit send. 

Just look at him... He's everything I could ever wish for in the Pitty of my dreams.

But I can't you see... because I already have one.

Annie has been with us nearly two weeks now.  I am much more knowledgeable, not about the breed itself, but with the needs of dogs in general. So this time around is going incredibly smoothly. 

I love her.  Red has to remind me every few days that we aren't keeping her.  I stayed home sick on Monday. I let all of the dogs loose in the house to nap or play or do whatever they were going to do while I stretched out on the couch.  I dozed off a few times, and everytime I woke up, Annie Bell would be curled up on the couch on my feet. 

I love grabbing her jowls and pulling them back into a huge Pitty smile.  If I had a 3rd hand, I'd somehow get a picture of it.  I love her giant head.  I love her melted dark chocolate color.  I love watching her learn how to be a dog.  There is nothing like Pibble Love.

Green Thumb

Did you know that amid all of my childhood dreams to be a dog trainer and an equestrian olympian and a veterinarian, I also always dreamed of doing something with plants?  Flowers and landscaping and forestry.  Horticulture. Greenhouses.  I love the dirt, I love growing beautiful things.  In high school, we had a class called 'Greenhouse'. that I managed to take 3 times. The first time, I aced the class.  The second time, I got back into the class by sheer luck, because my counselor... well she was a bit scatterbrained. I aced the class the second time around, and was able to absorb even more of the stuff I'd missed the first time around.  And then the third time, I wasn't actually taking the class as a student. But I was a senior by then and had a project pass, and I was able to get into the greenhouse class as a teacher's assistant basically.  This allowed me to be in the class entirely and learn even more.

At the end of this class each time, there was a field trip to the Minnesota Arboritum.  It's a gorgeous place, filled to the brim with anything a plant lover could possibly conjur up. It was during this trip that I'd decided I was going into landscaping.

Life intervened and as it turns out, I probably won't even have the design skill necessary to be a landscape designer.  But my love for the green has never died.

When we were renting, I always said that when I had a place of my own, I'd start a garden.  Well, we've been at the house now for almost four years and I still have no garden!

A couple of weeks ago, I stopped off where garden stuff was sold.  It was odd how once I was standing in front of that wall of seed packets, I started feeling giddy.  My high school knowledge came flooding back to me and I was so excited and happy to be standing there, able to pick out whatever I wanted to start growing. It was a rush. Isn't that a funny thing to get a rush over?

Anyways. Here's what I came home with:

I decided to start with some peat pots and indoor starter seeds. For this year, I'm going to make sure I am still capable of growing things before I start tearing the yard up.  The nice thing about peat pots is that once the seeds are well started and ready to transplant, you can just plant the entire pot right into the ground because it's made entirely from peat and will break up in the soil.  It's pretty slick.

I started with just two plants, using a full tray for each.

Some rosemary, because who doesn't love fresh rosemary? And some pretty white daisys.

I began by filling the small peat planters with seed start soil.

I poked a few seeds into each pot about a quarter inch down and then filled the rest of the way with more soil.  And soaked with water.

Um, no... I'm not feeding my new little seed plants Bud Light.  I swear.  It's just water.  I needed something easy to haul out some fresh water and an empty beer bottle seemed like the right thing to do.  Don't judge me.

A week later, I got brave because my little Daisy's were starting to poke their pretty little heads.

Can you see it?  That tiny little green thing right in the center of the photo?  It's a Shasta Daisy baby! 

Hey, it's an exciting event in my small little world, okay?

Since I was having some success, I went ahead and planted some jalapeno peppers, green peppers and this other little colorful leaf plant. 

Stay tuned for more 'baby' plant photos!

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On a totally seperate note... There is this house that's grabbed my attention.

I took this photo on the fly last night. It's not very good. But I had to be quick because there was another car coming from the other way and I didn't want them to think I was taking pictures of them as I drove by. 

This house is abandoned.  And not recently.  It's been sitting, quiet and empty, for a number of years now. It's one of those things that has clamped itself to my soul and now I have no choice but to research the property and find out what I can.  I don't know why I need to find out...  But I do.

Happy 2nd Anniversary!

Today is the 2nd anniversary of The Musings of a Minnesota Girl.  It seems like just last week that I posted my first anniversary.

I do love blogging.  And I do love taking photos and sharing it with you.

Thanks for tagging along. I'm surprised you've hung in there as long as you have!