Something Old

Nostalgia is comfort food for the soul. It is as present during the Holidays as are Christmas carols and tinsel. My awareness of how much I enjoy all this tradition got me to thinking as to why this might be.

I know I enjoy old Christmas carols, traditional Thanksgiving and Christmas meals, vintage Christmas movies, and decorating the tree and house. What about you? What are your favorites?

What got me to thinking about this was an incident recently with Little jack Kerouac, our Texas Brown Dog, and his old, but lost collar. Trudy and I noticed one day that Jack was without his collar. Whether it came off in a tug-of-war with another dog, or whether i took it off to give him a good brushing and failed to put it back on, I cannot say. In any event, one day both we noticed that Jack stood naked without his Double T dog collar.

Jack wearing his transitional collar before earning his Double-T collar

You see, our dogs after reaching an acceptable level of training and decorum receive their Texas Tech Double T collars. This is their reward from their proud human companions. The collar is distinctive with its red and black colors and signifies their graduation to full acceptance into our dog/human pack.

By the time  Jack had he lost his collar, he been the proud owner of his Texas Tech collar already for several years. Now, I might have surmised that Jack would have found wearing his jingling collar an overall negative aspect. But I would have been wrong. Jack is quite the hunter of squirrels and armadillos, and I can’t believe his jingling collar makes his hunts any easier.

One day recently our ranch hand, Juan, found Jack’s lost collar and returned it to me. When later I held it up later for Jack to see, I was amazed at how excited he became. Jack must have been mourning his loss of his collar based on his reaction. Jack began to shake all over, as if having a rigor, and repeatedly jumped up and down. He became so excited he began to squeak! You would have thought we had just returned to claim him after a very long absence.

I then approached Jack for the purpose of placing his collar around his neck. Jack immediately stood as still as the Sphinx, and I carefully replaced his collar around his blotchy brown, furry neck. He developed his happy face- a look of satisfied contentment.

I suppose old and familiar objects and traditions provide joy and happiness for us all. As humans we have many examples that can provoke nostalgia. For dogs their possessions are limited with Jack’s collar being his only one. I don’t think Jack is materialistic, so much as he likes familiar objects and his people. His familiar pack and his collar provide him comfort. I think objects like an old dog collar may relate to interactions we have had with loved ones (pack-mates) which create the good feelings that are nostalgia. Nostalgic memories are, after all, only good memories, it seems to me. Nostalgic memories are like comfort food for the soul, be they for humans or dogs.

What do you think? Do you think your dogs are nostalgic? Are you? Would love to learn your experiences.

Wishing all readers of this blog the happiest of Holidays and a wonderful New Year. Along with your eggnog, I hope you enjoy lots of nostalgia and loving interactions this Holiday season.

Great Blue Herons Are Adaptable

I’ve written about Great Blue Herons in this blog previously and have been especially impressed with their legends and natural beauty. Pleasingly our ranch has again been graced by several Great Blue Herons that create in me a sense of awe both by their size and striking beauty.

Each morning I’ve spotted  a Great Blue Heron in the top of a tall tree on the other side of our stock tank, watching me. My procedure has been to throw out feed for the duck and  fish. I always throw some feed near the shore to attract fish for the heron that I know will soon arrive. The feed  attracts fish and the Great Blue Heron arrives as soon as my back is turned. I’ve written of this previously in a blog post “Chumming for Heron”.

A Great Blue Heron. Not my heron but representative

The heron’s technique in the past has been to make himself small by curling itself up, hiding in the weeds, and at the right instance, launching itself at an unsuspecting  fish. Lately the fish seem to have caught onto the heron’s fishing ways and avoid swimming close to the bank of the pond. Nevertheless, many fish surface for the food just out of the heron’s reach.

Successful fishing. This is not really my heron but a look alike. Mine is too camera shy to allow me to snap a good image of it.

I’ve witnessed the heron missing meals of late due to this adaptability by the fish. To my surprise and in response to the change in fish behavior, I’ve also noticed a change in the heron’s fishing tactics. The heron  has begun landing on the surface of the water and swimming around like a duck. Upon spotting a fish in the shallow water, the heron suddenly turns tail to heaven. Soon it surfaces with a fish in its beak.

Also I’ve witnessed a second change of tactics. The heron flies across the tank at low altitude obviously searching for fish and then suddenly plunges into the water head first. The heron submerges itself, but sure enough on regaining the surface it has a fish in its beak. It then swims to the bank where it  enjoys its breakfast.

Such adaptability in herons as well as fish, I find interesting and surprising. I assume  in the game of life for herons and fish, adaptability benefits both just as adaptability has great value for us humans.

I trust the heron will enjoy a nice meal for Thanksgiving, as I hope readers of this blog will as well. Happy Thanksgiving!

Requesting Thoughts on “Prescription for Defeat: How Adolf Hitler’s Poor Health Led to the Defeat of Nazi Germany

My lack of posting of late in no way indicates my reduced interest, only a lack of time, as I have been writing extensively on the above noted book.

Recently I put together a synopsis of my book, and I would welcome your input. For example, does the topic generate interest? What questions arise that require answering? Are there any World War II historians out there in the blogosphere who would wish to be beta readers on the manuscript?

Below is the synopsis. I look forward to your thoughts.

Prescription For Defeat: How Adolf Hitler’s Poor Health Led to Nazi Germany’s Defeat in War II

A Synopsis:

On the 20th of April 1889 in the small, bucolic Austrian town of Braunau am Inn, Adolf Hitler was born. No one could have predicted the depravity the cherubic, blue-eyed child would one day unleash upon the world. Adolf with his father, Alois Hitler, an austere, alcoholic 52-year old minor customs official, and his mother, Klara, a 29-year old, socially adept, second cousin to Alois, resided for three years in the modest boarding house in Braunau.

One hundred years later the mayor of Braunau am Inn placed a telling Memorial Stone at the site of Hitler’s birth, eschewing forever the scourge of Fascism. The building where Hitler was born was later razed to assure it could never become a shrine to Hitler or Nazism.

What affected this child’s personality development such that Hitler could carry out such evil deeds? Which factors led to Adolf Hitler committing strategic blunders, leading to the defeat of Nazi Germany in World War II? This book explores the impact of his poor health and personality and how they worked in concert against Germany’s success in World War II.

One day the rebellious and abused adolescent, Adolf Hitler, resolved to run away from home. His father learned of his plans and to prevent this locked him in an upstairs room with bars on the windows. The slightly built Adolf tried unsuccessfully to wriggle through the bars. He then took off his clothing and re-attempted his escape. Just then he heard his father’s heavy footfalls clomping up the stairway. Adolf jumped to the floor and hid his nakedness by wrapping himself in an available tablecloth. On entering and seeing the strangely garbed boy, Alois gleefully shouted for Klara to come see the ridiculous appearing “Toga Boy.” Alois harshly belittled Adolf then and for weeks thereafter. Such scorn from the man whom Adolf most craved affection and recognition harmed his sensitive, artistic personality more so than the frequent thrashings he received from his father. Years later Adolf Hitler in a moment of self-reflection mentioned this “Toga Boy” humiliation and that it took him many years to recover from it.
Adolf received stubbornness, grandiosity, violent temper, and penchant for scapegoating from his father. He may also have inherited Jewish blood from his father. From his mother he gained unconditional love along with a charming social demeanor that would serve him well in politics. All four siblings of Adolf died young, prompting the distraught mother to place all her long frustrated aspirations for a purposeful life onto her sole remaining child, Adolf.

“My little Adolf, you will become such a great man,” she would whisper in the boy’s ear.
Such fawning contributed to the development of Adolf’s messianic complex as shown later when he determined that only he, and he alone, could lead Germany from the economic and military morass in which Germany found itself following World War I.

Adolf’s failure on two occasions to gain admission to the Vienna School of Art crushed his sensitive ego and vocational plans. Worse, his denial came from a largely Jewish faculty that along with unsettling experiences in multicultural Vienna ramped up his anti-Semitism. Adolf also refused his proud Austrian father’s wish for him to join the Austrian army in World War I and instead joined the German army. There he acquitted himself honorably, receiving not one but two Iron Crosses. The army proved important for his development and for the first time in Adolf’s life, he felt a part of something greater than himself.

Emotionally aimless and embittered following Germany’s defeat in World War I, Hitler drifted to Munich where for a time he spied for the Weimar Republic on politically suspect groups. His work included reporting on the nascent Nazi Party. Therein Hitler found affirmation for his own expanding anti-Semitic and pan-German viewpoints. He soon quit his work for the government, joined the Nazi party, and rapidly moved up within the party’s organizational structure. His rapid ascent resulted from his remarkable oratorical skills and the tumultuous Great Depression, conditions providing fertile soil for the rapid growth of his political ambition.

Adolf had always been a frail but healthy boy. While a tendency toward excessive dwelling on minor ailments existed, he maintained generally good health into the 1930s other than for the residual of of minor war wounds.

Interest still exists today regarding Hitler’s sexuality and the possibility of his having a Jewish ancestor. Although extravagant claims have been made about Hitler’s sexuality, most likely in reality Hitler had diminished heterosexual urges but was sexually potent. Evidence for and against Hitler’s Jewish grandfather is presented and this narrative leans toward a conclusion that some truth likely exists for this claim. In any event Hitler felt considerable unease as shown by his ordering both an SS investigation and another performed by his private attorney. His deep-seated concern gave rise to an overwrought defense mechanism, contributing to his anti-Semitism as well as increasing his hatred for his presumed half-Jewish father.

This narrative also analyzes the contention that Hitler suffered from advanced syphilis (the so-called Jewish disease). But following a review of the neurological and laboratory evidence, this supposition is largely debunked. Better and convincing evidence exists from both historical and medical records for coronary artery disease and Parkinson’s disease.

Adolf Hitler always assumed he would die young. His belief stemmed from the early deaths of his siblings and mother. Hitler also had moderate high blood pressure and received a diagnosis of coronary sclerosis from Dr. Hasselbach in 1936 or 1937. By then Hitler had learned not to climb up to the Kehlstein House that lay at 6000 feet and nearby the Berghof, his Bavarian retreat, as the combination of vigorous exercise and oxygen-thinning altitude aggravated his symptoms of coronary artery disease.
A clear-cut episode of angina pectoris occurred in the summer of 1941 when Hitler became enraged over his foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, questioning his attack on the Soviet Union (Operation Barbarossa). Suddenly the color drained from Hitler’s face, he clutched his chest, and collapsed into a nearby chair. Following the episode Hitler attested that he had thought he was having a heart attack. A series of electrocardiograms are reported here and demonstrate the telltale signs of coronary artery disease. Theodor Morell, his private physician, prescribed digitalis and nitroglycerine, both heart medicines.

Coronary artery disease shortens life expectancy, a fact especially true in the early part of the twentieth century. Adolf Hitler likely understood that he could not be expected to live beyond 1944 or 1945. Furthermore Hitler’s second major illness, Parkinson’s disease, likely began even earlier in 1933 or 1934 based on videotape evidence. Historical, contemporaneous reports along with video and photographs provide convincing evidence (stooped posture, hand tremor, abnormal hand positioning, loss of facial expression, handwriting difficulty, and slow movements) for Hitler’s Parkinson’s disease. Hitler demonstrated the classical findings and belatedly Dr. Theodor Morell assigned the diagnosis and began treatment with two minimally effective medicines. Parkinson’s disease (so-called Paralysis Agitans in those days) like coronary artery disease shortened life expectancy such that Hitler predictably would likely not have survived beyond 1945.

Hitler’s limited life expectancy likely caused him to prematurely launch Operation Barbarossa, the invasion of the Soviet Union, in June 1941 despite not having fully stockpiled the necessary armaments, having established a pact with Japan, having defeated Great Britain, and not yet having his super weapons (due out in 1944 or 1945) that included V-1 and V-2 rockets, sound activated torpedoes, and jet airplanes. Nevertheless, his lifelong dream of Lebensraum for the German people coupled with his belief that he alone could lead Germany drove the plan rashly ahead.

The behavioral changes that accompany chronic Parkinson’s disease are presented, most noteworthy of which are mental inflexibility and difficulty in concept formation. These symptoms in Hitler are well described in contemporaneous reports and exemplified by his dithering and recalcitrance in June of 1944 at the Battle of Normand and during December 1945 and January 1945 at the Battle of the Bulge.
While other factors most certainly including the Allied military might and intelligence operations greatly influenced the outcome of World War II, too little attention has been paid to Adolf Hitler’s poor health and restraining personality traits. Better understanding of these features assists in understanding why Hitler prematurely launched Operation Barbarossa and demonstrated during decisive battles an inability to change his mind in the face of new and compelling evidence.

It needs to be stressed that Hitler’s illnesses in no way reduce his culpability. His abnormal and long-standing personality flaws consisting of genocidal anti-Semitism, violent inclinations, scapegoating, and failure to accept blame preceded his illnesses by many decades. His poor health in no way mitigates the evil that Hitler unleashed upon the world.

A full understanding of Adolf Hitler’s depravity is required so that such wickedness never again will be loosed upon an unsuspecting world.

Flash Floods in the Texas Hill Country

Only a few weeks ago I wrote a blog piece on the terrible drought and now we have floods! Such is the weather in Texas. As the old saying goes, “If you don’t like the weather in Texas, just wait a few minutes!”

For the last two days we’ve been largely stranded on our hill outside of Fredericksburg. Several times I’ve gone down the hill only to have the flooding of Live Oak Creek prevent my from leaving the ranch. This happened after the ground had been thoroughly saturated and then another 10 inches or so of rain fell. The thin soil  can’t absorb that much water, so it runs off into the streams at a rapid clip. On a positive note my stock tanks are now full. It’s been a long time since I could say that. See below

It is surprising how strong the current can be, as its been known to wash out fences and sweep away cars and trucks. Trudy and I have gained a healthy respect for flash floods and try not to tempt fate. Our schedules are not that precious. See debris line below, showing earlier extent of the flood and white water other side of low water crossing.

Our dogs have reacted in different ways. The dark, rainy days suggest Jack’s favorite past-time- napping. See below. Jack likes his creature comforts, especially snoozing on a pillow top mattress on our bed with his little head on a feather pillow.

Jack: Rainy days make me sleepy. For that matter sunny days do too.

 

Our senior Border collie, Buddy on the other hand becomes anxious during storms. As always he is goal directed animal if there ever was one. He begins to look s for a job to perform. Below you will see what the flash flood caused with Buddy. As you can see he has prepared for a still worse flood, waiting in his pool float, umbrella overhead, and goggles at the ready. Buddy always has a plan.

“Let that water rise, I’m ready for it!”

How Green The Valley

When the drought ended a few weeks back, it ended on a convincing note- over 10 inches of rain. What a difference rain makes. Despite the obviousness of this statement, I find myself in a state of wonder and awe when seeing our new crop of wild flowers, deep green grass, and flowering bushes around the ranch and yard. Thought I would share a few pictures.

Wildflowers against a background of green pasture

Copper Canyon daisies have popped up all over

Lantana has been going crazy both in the yard and all over the ranch

The flowers in our Texas plantar (who says I’m a proud Texan?) have begun to flower once again

Little Jack: Flowers are okay I guess, but nothing tops a good scratch

Speaking of inspiration, yesterday I sneaked off to the driving range and hit golf balls. There I ran across a man in his forties who was also smacking balls. The difference was that he had a congenitally deformed foot that allowed him only to balance on the toe of his left foot. Despite this handicap, he was out battling the golf gods and giving no quarter to his handicap. Now this was inspirational!

I hope everyone takes a few moments and looks around for the little things in their lives that provide inspiration, awe, and hope. It is there if we just look.

 

I Have A Dog Who Answers The Telephone

Please excuse my absence from the blog, as Trudy and I were on vacation. The time away allowed time to contemplate some questioning feedback I received regarding recent stories posted about Little Jack Kerouac. You see some readers did not fully accept that Little Jack dictated his back history and all I did was merely write it down. Oh you of little faith.

I did too dictate my story

Such feedback made me think about other ways in which my dogs communicate, ways which hopefully everyone can accept. Now surely others have witnessed their dogs barking to go outside, to take a walk, to be petted, and in the case of my dogs, to go for a ride in the pickup. Yes, my dogs, especially Little Jack and Buddy, are quite insistent about nudging me out of my chair about 5:00 pm to go for a ride or to take a walk.

Bella, our female Border collie has her own idiosyncrasies. She communicates. She really does. She does this  by barking when Trudy or I don’t hear the telephone. Perhaps like many seniors our hearing is not the best. Trudy has graduated to the honest stage of wearing hearing aides while I simply deny my hearing loss and soldier on. Bella on the other hand has tremendous hearing. We say she has “dog ears.”

Bella, our little helper
Photo by Ramsey

If we fail to hear the land line or a cell phone ring, Bella will begin to bark. I’ve noticed she doesn’t bark for the first couple of rings. Presumably she waits to see if we hear it or not. Only when we don’t respond by the third or fourth ring does she become insistent that we answer the phone. Her initial barks cease and she begins to howl. I’ve never heard her howl except when we fail to answer a telephone, but believe me she is quite effective in mobilizing her humans to answer the phone. Bella can sound just like a hound dog. She’s become a regular little phone helper.

Now this behavior fits well with Bella’s helping personality. She likes to have a job and likes to prove useful. For some time she has helped out Buddy when he wants to go outside to do his business. You see, Buddy will stand quietly beside a door to go out. We don’t always observe him. Only rarely will his urgency cause him to scratch at the door to draw our attention. Bella, on the other hand, seeing Buddy waiting patiently beside the door will begin to bark. Her bark is persistent and loud. It’s hard to miss.

Bella and Little Jack guarding the ranch from the pickup

She also likes to accompany Buddy when we put him out, just in case I suppose. Buddy has actually become fairly dependent on Bella’s going out with him, as otherwise he is hard to push out the door. So you see beside answering our phones, Bella also serves as door monitor.

They say you have to give a Border collie a job, or else it will become self-employed and never productively. Well, I’m here to say some Border collies (read Bella) find their own jobs and are helpful. Who would have thought we would have a dog that answers the phone or monitors doors?

Do your dogs communicate with either you or any other dogs? I would love to have your feedback. Please leave your experiences in the comment section.

Puppy Love- Part IV and Conclusion of Jack’s Story

Editor’s Note: This is the concluding episode of Little Jack’s backstory. He clearly has enjoyed dictating his story, and I have enjoyed writing it down. I have learned Jack is an amazing little brown dog with a far more interesting and heroic background than i had suspected. He and I hope you have enjoyed his story. Jack has certainly enjoyed his fan mail.

 

Little Jack dictating his story

 

I knew I couldn’t survive much longer on my own. By then I had learned the pitfalls of being a lone dog on the road. Eating whatever I managed to catch had proven too infrequent to sustain myself. Moreover dodging guard llamas and donkeys, avoiding fierce horses, evading cars and trucks, and barely escaping the clutches a mountain lion had taken their toll on my freedom-loving doggie spirit. I was ready to exchange a few biscuits of freedom for a bowlful of security.

The following afternoon I trotted along the country road until it passed through a ranch entrance. There the road became an even smaller byway.

A sign at the ranch entrance

I then traveled up a steep hill. With the climb my paw pads became progressively sorer and my belly increasingly empty. When I lifted my nose from the ground, I saw a white stone house perched high upon the hill. It became a distant visual target that encouraged my flagging hopes. I knew exhaustion would soon overcome me if I couldn’t find rest and food. What did I have to lose by proceeding up the hill to its summit? Might this signal what I had been searching for my whole life?

Shortly after arriving in the front yard of the house, I heard a noisy, old pickup grinding its way up the hill. Fear welled up within me, as I had suffered close calls from such vehicles. I tried to hide, but could find no good place to do so.

Soon out of the truck stepped a clean-shaven man who was quickly followed by two large dark and white dogs. The dogs that later I learned were Border collies sensed my presence almost immediately. When the collies ran my way, I retreated, but the two dogs were bigger and faster than I was. The collies quickly trapped me inside the fenced yard. I turned on them, crouched, growled, and prepared to make my stand. While trying to appear aggressive, I knew my energy level and my physical state were depleted. I doubted I could protect myself for long from these larger well-fed, highly energetic dogs.

This is the pickup that came up the hill. Now I get to ride in it rather than have to walk everywhere

I hunkered down, my teeth bared, expecting a vicious attack at any moment. Then to my surprise the man called off his dogs and they stood down. The man then tried to catch me, but even in my depleted state, I was far too quick for him. You see two-footed, overweight humans move pretty slowly. This was my first time I saw Pickup Man. I didn’t know his intentions, and he frightened me, because by then I was afraid of just about everything and everyone.

Pickup Man with his Border collies and me

The man who by then was out of breath headed for the stone house and left me alone in the yard with his dogs. The Border collies fortunately kept their distance from me. Not long after going into the white house, Pickup Man came back carrying a piece of fried chicken. Oh, it smelled so good. In the face of the luscious smelling meat, my fears simply melted away. My thoughts of evasion collapsed before that tantalizing smell and luscious looking meat. I climbed straight up into his arms to eat the meat. I wolfed down the tasty chicken, as Pickup Man held me and carried me toward the white stone house. He stroked my head as he walked and said soft words.

Once inside the house he called out to his human companion. That’s when I first met Nice Lady. She came into the room and looked surprised at what Pickup Man was carrying. She approached us and gently took me from his arms. She caressed my head, scratched my ears, and said kind, soft words to me. She told Pickup Man how skinny, dirty, and, exhausted I appeared.

Nice Lady standing beside a Hay bale

The rest you might say is doggie history. Nice Lady proceeded to give me a soapy, warm bath in a large bathtub. She fixed a place for me to sleep next to her bed. She fed me regularly and liberally.

Nice Lady even feeds me with me sitting in her lap

Oh, and the food came from cans, a seemingly bottomless giant plastic bin of dry dog food, and even her dinner table. It all smelled and tasted so good to this half-starved dog. It took me several weeks to get used to all that food, as my system wasn’t used to eating much or very often. I eventually became used to eating more frequently and the food proved so much better than the meals I had eaten while on the road.

Here I am all cleaned up but looking pretty skinny

Nice Lady stroked me often and nursed me back to full health. I gained weight and my energy gradually returned. I knew I had found a promising new home with caring humans along with an accepting pack of dogs. And to make matters even better Pickup Man regularly took me for rides around his ranch in the backseat of his pickup. The Border collies he relegated to the bed of his pickup. Riding in a pickup was ever so much easier on my paw pads than walking.

Here I am with Pickup Man inside his truck

Well this is the end of my story prior to coming to live with Pickup Man and Nice Lady. It isn’t heroic like the stories of Lassie or Rin Tin Tin, both legends in the canine world. Nor am I as well known, as a dog that lived up the highway in Mason, Texas, a dog whose name was Old Yeller. But it’s my story and I’m proud of it.

My adventures in the big stinky city and my exploits on the road made me, for better or worse, what I am today. For sure I learned resiliency.

I wanted Pickup Man to write down my story to fill in my background for Nice Lady and him. This is the best I can recall.

Later when talking to friends, I overheard Pickup Man and Nice Lady talk about naming me Little Jack Kerouac. They said something about a book written by a man named Jack Kerouac that described his time on the road. Pickup Man and Nice Lady thought there must be similarities between his story and mine. Kerouac had described his experience, as the road is life. Well I also had traveled a road of my life to this new and happier place, and perhaps like Jack Kerouac, I had grown from and been molded by my life experiences.

I am now a wiser dog but also a pampered one

The friends of Pickup Man and Nice Lady all laughed at hearing why my name had been chosen and seemed to enjoy it much like I might enjoy a good steak bone. So that’s how I gained my new name, and I hope it makes better sense to you than it does to me. Humans can act pretty mystifying at times. But I am happy now with my name, Little Jack, and have learned to respond to it.

Now I’ll leave the rest of the story to Pickup Man, that is, if he chooses to write it down. I don’t know if he will, as he spends a lot of time sitting at his desk, clicking away on his keyboard. Sometimes he says he is moving his mouse around and on one occasion even claimed his mouse had died. Sometimes humans say the silliest things, because I know what a mouse is and even caught and ate several while on the road. I don’t know what makes Pickup Man say such crazy things, but I care for him anyway, even if a little daffy.. I think overall he is a good pack leader.

Frankly I’d just as soon Pickup Man get up from behind his computer and take me riding in his pickup, or else go for a walk across our ranch. I wouldn’t even mind if he takes along those herding obsessed Border collies of his. After all they long ago gave up trying to herd me. You see, I ‘m not the biggest dog around, but I carry a big bite.

I have gotten used to the Border collies and to respect their bravery

I’ve actually learned to respect those Border collies for their skill at herding cattle and for their bravery in the face of some really big animals. They aren’t varmint hunters like me, yet I have gained a grudging respect for their remarkable abilities. Admittedly, I have also grown to care for them, look out for them, and enjoy being part of the same pack.

What makes my life even better is knowledge that a full dinner bowl always awaits me at the house. Despite knowing this I still keep my nose to the ground, and seek out armadillos and possums. If I catch an armadillo or possum, I don’t even bother to eat it anymore, as I know better fare awaits me- dirty nose and all- at my white stone home on the hill.

As I write this I am almost nine years old, that is 63 in dog years. Wow, I am getting old. In the process I’ve learned a few things that I wish to share. Chief among my observations is gaining a strong sense of place. While early in life, I wished to explore the entire world, now I know that to be impractical. I now recognize my special place, my correct place in the world, is right here in Live Oak Valley living in a house on a hill.

I can explore the valley, splash in my favorite spring-fed creeks, relish my varmint chases, quietly observe graceful deer without feeling the need to chase them, and most importantly revel in a sense of belonging to one special place. I love my dog/human pack and my pack loves me. As I’ve grown older, being loved and loving others have become more important matters to me. I think perhaps that is what life is all about. This valley, this ranch, these dogs, and these people just feel right to me. It feels like I’m home at last.

I hope you have enjoyed my story

Oh, I learned lessons in the big, smelly city and even while lost on the road. My actions taught me self-reliance, survival skills, and provided me with almost limitless self-confidence. But I’ve proved myself and am now an accomplished, grown up dog. I take life a little easier now. You might say I’ve become semi-retired. At last I’ve discovered my real home and more about what makes this dog bark. Isn’t that an important aspect of anyone’s life?

 

The End