We adopted a five year old Australian Cattle Dog on Monday of last week. He bolted Tuesday of last week. We tried to catch him but he is one smart and athletic dog. A dog recovery non-profit saw our post on Facebook and got involved the next day. A super athletic friend of mine who helped in the chase gave us a 5% chance of catching him by running him down. I had taken to calling him Nelson Bolt because he loves freedom as much as Nelson Mandela and was as fast as Usain Bolt. You might say that we should have been more careful and you would be right. His disposition the night we brought him home lulled us into a false sense of security. When brought into the house he pretty much glued himself onto family members every moment, especially my wife. He seemed like a lover not a runner and when he took off first chance he had it was a surprise. We posted fliers within a mile that said call us with a location but don't chase him and don't feed him. We didn't need to post fliers over such a big area, he stayed in small five block area that was about a quarter block from our house. When it became apparent that standing around in a nonthreatening way with a hotdog wasn't going to lure him in the non-profit provided us with a dog trap. The dog trap spent three days at the edge of his range with no hits besides three or four pissed off house cats. The dog recovery people said to leave the trap in one place for three days before you move it. During this time most the calls of sightings were one damn block from our house! The trap was at the furthest point from this location that was part of his range (we had a pretty dope Google map of his sightings). One of the days we got a text that he was heading down the street toward our house. My wife went outside to try and spot him. A random lady walked up just as the dog did, followed my wife's gaze and watched him calmly trotting. "That's my dog," says the wife. The lady looked puzzled. "He ran away on Tuesday." The lady gives my wife an more puzzled look. "You can't catch him, watch," and let out a little whistle, causing the dogs head to jerk around and bound off into a back yard. The dog knew every Ally and lose fence post in a backyard by this point. He probably knows the neighborhood as well as any creature on Earth. Finally we moved the trap right next to the house with a chicken broth trail leading from a woodpile he was known to frequent to the cage. That night he struck. Little monster reached over the trigger plate, pulled the plate with the bait out of the cage and had himself a snack. He robbed the cage twice that night. This was all good. He thought he knew a good place to find a quick and easy meal and it was going to be his downfall. Meanwhile we caught three more cats, one of which was my super dumb cat who got caught three times, much to his distress. I drilled a holes in a piece of plexi glass and tied it the the front bottom front edge of the trip plate, it extended the trigger for about six more inches but it was invisible under the towel that we had hiding the mechanism. He could see where the trip plate was under the towel but the extension was tied lower than the plate and it was pretty much invisible. About 9:30 at night I heard a sad sad howl and a few little yips. We had him. The cage with the dog was too heavy for me to move myself but you were supposed to move the cage to an enclosed space before opening. My closest buddy wasn't answering his phone and I didn't know what to do. Probably stupidly I cracked the door open with my body leaned into it, any 50 lb dog that can shift my 230 lbs has earned it. I got a hand on his collar and he went nuts. It reminded me of catching a real big fish, thrashing in every direction. I worried that he might shake loose as I dragged him out the trap and hoped he wouldn't bite me. I got a second had on his collar and drug him to the front door. He was pinning himself to every bit of architecture in a final struggle for freedom. I basically gave him a big heave with both hands on his collar and launched him through the door, legs splayed in every direction with a spinning thud, claws scrambling on the wooden floors. He looked around stunned for a moment and than crept up to wife and glued himself to her side, just like the day we got him. He was once again a sweet mild dog that loved people. The chase consumed seven days. The dog appeared a bit skinnier, super filthy but none the worse for ware. He does seem to be unsure of his situation and a bit nervous and I'll at ease most the time. We've had him back for two full days. He trusts me less than any other person he's met so far, which I suppose is fair seeing as I caught him and than gave him a bit of rough handeling. All the same he's sat next to and put his hand in my lap. He really likes meeting people and other dogs. He's great at walking on a leash and is a lustful walker. He seems to know no commands which kind of surprised me with how well behaved he is on a leash, he's better than most well trained dogs I've known. I took him to the vet and and a few not too crowded public spaces. He's behaved really well. He's friendly with kids. he behaved well when given a bath, only twice attempting half hearted escapes and wow was that dog dirty. I haven't had a dog in twenty years and all the dogs I've had we raised as puppies. I didn't think much about how different adopting an adult dog would be. Giving him as much attention as he wants and lots of sweet praise to let him know we're glad he's with us. They say it takes about three months for a dog to get fully comfortable in new home, I hope he does.
My sister chose an Australian Cattle Dog - Kelpie cross out of a puppy mill when she was 10. Cinder was skittish and deathly afraid of boots. She hated my father, who fed her every day, and barked at him whenever he was standing. She would let him scratch her ears when he was seated. My father was her designated enemy; by the time my sister was 28 Cinder stopped growling at him when he fed her heart pills. Cinder would leap fences as if they weren't there. There was probably two feet of air between her and a 5' fence. Cinder enjoyed leaving about 4am and going to see how many papers she could find. She would bring them back with her. For about a two month period our back yard usually had five or six of the day's newspapers scattered about. Normal families would chain up a dog like this. We were not normal. We got another dog. Half Australian Shepherd, half St. Bernard. When we got him his name was Walter; for reasons unknown to me we changed it to Boris. Boris started out as a good dog. Cinder fixed that. She liked to coax Boris out to steal newspapers with her. My father electrified the fence so that Boris couldn't jump it. This discouraged Cinder from going out on her own. But the electric fence would often break down and the dogs would go on walkabout. Cinder never bit anyone. She would convince Boris to do it. He was a generally-nice dog but when she barked, he barked. People would ask "what a lovely dog - does he bite?" and we'd have to say "technically, yes." "Anyone?" "mostly old ladies and small children." "...badly?" "one lady needed 28 stitches." To this day I do not understand why animal control didn't make us put the pair of them down. Cinder loved my sister unconditionally, and hated my father (when he was standing) with an untempered passion borne of unknown traumas. Both of them could respond to commands. Boris, when alone, would gleefully sit, heel, beg, you name it. Cinder would do it for treats. No treats? No come. So if Boris was with Cinder, he wouldn't respond to commands without treats either. She's the only Australian Cattle Dog I've ever known. She definitely had brains. However, she had no honor. Nelson Bolt will probably be a great dog so long as you internalize that he's looking out for number one.
At least he doesn't seem like a Barker. He's barked three times, once when he got caught and twice when he's been surprised and they were just little yelps. I didn't want him. I was leery of the cattle dog thing but I got out voted two to one and he's what we got. If he doesn't work out I'm making us get a dumb dog that just loves hanging with her pack.
What an adventure, though an (I assume) entirely unwanted one.
Last exam of the semester. Woot! I shifted degrees from macroeconomics to computer science this year. When I was 18 I enrolled in a B.A. in politics after going on exchange my senior year of high school with the stated goal of "destroying the capitalist system". Then I realized the capitalist system really didn't like being destroyed. Also been binging a lot on pure math, which is fun. After this I'll be working at the pizza joint and going on a free cruise at the end of May, thanks to a mutual friend breaking up with his girlfriend right before. I'll try to post some pics.
That's quite a shift! I've gone from wanting to study political science to computer science as well, but I've not started my studies yet. This fall I will though fingers crossed.
I studied political science and wound up working in computers. I think it was more fun to learn political science than computer science, but would have been a lot less fun to work in the former field. Technology is definitely the place to be right now.
I'm doing really well, y'all. I had a really shit week two weeks ago—realized I might not be able to afford tuition for my last semester, great-uncle passed, had a pregnancy scare, quit the softball team. But on the next Monday, I found 4 unexplained smooth pebbles on my desk; none of my coworkers knew where they came from. I accepted them, a bit confused, but decided to throw one away as each of my problems was resolved (or at least processed). Today I threw the last one into the river. I talked to my parents for an hour or so, and amongst other things, they offered to lend me $1500 with no due date to help with tuition and expenses. It was amazing how much background stress I had been feeling without realizing, and how quickly it all evaporated when my dad offered to help—or rather, insisted on helping. I told them about the stones, and opened up a bit more about my anxiety and depression (they knew but we hadn't talked in much detail). I told them how depression always made me feel, more than anything, so fragile, like the tiniest misfortune could send me spiraling; and as I told them how incredibly blessed I am to feel resilient again, I found myself crying for the first time in months. Happy tears. I feel so lucky to have the support network I have, and to have the space and time to learn how to live in this beautiful, terrible, brightly burning world. Thank you all for the part you play in that.
Doing well is very nice. Doing really well is even nicer.
I've finally been approved for Phase 3 Cardiac Rehab after more than a year of insurance company BS. Once a week, starting next week, I'll be working out under the direction and supervision of a pair of exercise physiologists. Hopefully it helps. The RPS has no more physical classes left in her bachelors degree, which is kind of funny to me. One online summer class, two online lectures in the fall and she's done.
Man. It feels like Pubski was only a couple of days ago. I don't have much to say at the moment because I'm focused on making progress on the rabbit right now and watching television, hopefully I'll be done by the end of this week. OK K.O.! is turning out to be quite the fun cartoon. Once I'm all caught up, I kind of hope to start it over from scratch and watch it with Dala.
I've voted! I did it on the first day I could and in return didn't have to wait in line. It felt less ceremonial than it did in fall probably due to a combination of the following: 1. It wasn't my first time voting this time. 2. I didn't vote on the actual election day. 3. It was to the EU. Still, democracy, it's a cool thing.
I just got back from a family trip to NYC. It was a lot of fun but I am physically and emotionally exhausted. Man o man kids take a lot of energy. Marriage does too :) I turned 42 years old this week. I take comfort in the fact that my stem cells are forever 38 years old, stored at Forever Labs. -I no longer even remotely cloak my attempts to promote our business. Each birthday is a selling tool. The best experience of NYC was the MOMA. We had a children's tour. There were probably 8 families and 12 kids in the group. My children were by far the most active kids, asking great questions and participating the entire time. The guide thanked me at the end. I was really proud of them. My daughter has a propensity for art and had some really advanced thoughts/answers to the guides questions about abstract art. It was awesome. I asked the museum where Yves Klein's "Blue" was, but much to my disappointment it is currently in storage in Pennsylvania. kleinbl00, I tried. I was really looking forward to sending you a photo of me and the kids with your name sake. My wife bought me a kindle for my bday. I'm very excited. I've been reading Hamilton and it's a bear to lug around. edit: I started watching Schitts Creek. It's pretty damned funny.
Life updates: Living on the Space Coast working in GIS for a government contractor. Shit's lit. Accepted to a 12mo masters program in GIS coming up in a couple months. ----- Question of the month is navigating whether I will have a job here when the masters is done. Question of the hour is vietnamese or sushi buffet.
Two pubski sin three days? Nice. I’m on a short-range vacation in SLO. We hit the wine tasting in Paso Robles, hit the beach at Pismo (although it’s kinda grey), hiked in Morro Bay, and we’re staying on a farm via Airbnb. I’m also likely to end my unemployed status in the next week or two. Got an offer from a place that’s pretty meh BUT it’s a job. Meanwhile I have some other prospects that look good but may take some time to materialize.
Going to Devner at the end of the week for 11 days, then coming back and starting IVF. It'll be a nice break before the real shit starts. Also, at some point on hubski I doubted kleinbl00 on how expensive children were. Looking at the IVF charges and how that's just for a pre-kid, I'll eat my humble pie. Also, the greenhouse is on hold - looking at the planned area in the summer, it's completely shaded in by the now leafy trees. I'm considering fixing up our shed as a new project instead.
You can do kids on the cheap but only if you're a terrible, sociopathic parent. We've spent substantially less on a whole buncha stuff than most anybody I know and according to Quicken that kid still costs me more per year than an 800-series BMW would. And she's six. No orthodontia, all activities firmly in the "just punking around" price bracket, and her medical expenses actually pay me because it's an experimental treatment (goes into a fund for her education, but still the number is positive not negative).
I wrote a research paper on the Sperrgebiet years ago when I worked for an independent think tank. That area has an amazing history. How was Kolmanskop? I'd love to see some photos.
I met my aunt at the graveyard today. She seemed to have been emotional before I got there. Her voice cracked as she mentioned a job brought her husband out of state. She met my beloved, who had come with me. Thankfully, she didn't mind us not saying long. Talking about the flowers before the one I had put down there, she mentioned my father had sent out a group text and no one else replied. I feel quiet after a bustling Mother's Day. I feel somber as the night seems young and I have so many tabs, that hubski will time out if I do it all manually. It's been many days of finally getting a handle on music production. But- a job is a job is a job. Someone told me that once and it echoes through me. In the ballroom of my mind, that phrase dances. I found another screenplay and now have 3. It has been lovely updating those of you who read and I hope to see you next Pubski.