August 5 2009

August started out happily with dogs, dogs, dogs as we had our first ever NY picnic on the 1st. While we only had 8 people and 7 dogs, we all had so much fun we want to do it again in the fall. And one of my former fosters,

Arley the Adorable, was driven down all the way from CT for the event, so we were a two-state picnic! The site was Thomas Bull Park, about half an hour from us, which has a great dog park, beautiful lake, lots of picnic tables, and much more that we didn't even see, like an arboretum and children's park. And for once it wasn't raining! Foster moms Lynn and Tracey not only brought their 4 Britts (Chilly, Pepper,


Brittie and Thurman -and they have several more dogs at home!), but also tons of delicious food, chairs, canopy, and almost anything else that was needed. They were the force behind this get together, and we are all so grateful to them. My new heroes, they just keep taking whatever dog needs a place, no matter what the problem, and are so calm about things that would send me around the bend - like occasional puddles of pee, dogs that weigh over 50 lbs. needing to be carried up stairs, and friends staying with them (they wrote casually) while they looked for a place of their own, bringing their Rhodesian Ridgeback and a Husky. I guess I am really wimpy, one small Brittany at a time is my limit.


Rustyand Pepper (Pepper is the senior lady with the barette) are both senior dogs, at least 15 years old, and Pepper has a heart condition as well as some other health issues. I just hope we can all age as gracefully as they are doing, because of the wonderful care of their "parents". Brittie and Arley, my former fosters, were a special delight to see, so happy and beloved in their forever homes. Brittie dressed up for the event (special home made ruffled collar in photo) and Arley, ever thoughtful, brought me a miniature rose plant. It was the happiest day I've had in months! Thurman is another special needs permanent foster for Lynn and Tracey,and


Chilly ,shown smiling right at the camera, is the tiny (25 lb) Britt that started them on their Brittany journey, and










Ruby, though officially a foster for Daniel, Tim and Rusty, is clearly "their girl" and probably will be officially adopted at some point as Rusty was (he was a foster of Daniel's for over 2 years). We, alas, are temporarily dogless, but I had such fun with the dogs I almost didn't miss having one of my own to drive home with.

We hope to get another foster at the end of August when we get back from our planned trip to my family, to celebrate Mom's 90th birthday. Amazing woman that she is, she still seems younger than I, still goes into the health club three times a week, and the one time I went with her, outperformed me on every machine. So perhaps my next posting will include actual people at the birthday party...

The obligatory garden report is pretty brief: rained out for over a month, all the marigold seeds apparently rotted in the ground, we had not one come up in any of the terraces. However, the coneflowers and beragmot are at least a foot taller than last year, and the hydrangea, living up to the "hydra" part of its name, is very happy.

June 29 2009

Wonderful news - little Rusty Glenn finally found his forever family this past Sunday! Margaret and Russell, the in-laws of my first successful adoption family for Carmen the Wonder Dog (in 2007) came up, along with Carmen, her parents, and the adopting couple's 8 month old female Morkie named Molly.
The contrast between RG's behavior to these four people, and two dogs, as opposed to the two people and one dog he rejected two weeks ago (barking and becoming a completely different dog than the one I had lived with for two months), couldn't have been stronger. From the minute they arrived, Rusty Glenn was his usual happy, loving self to everyone, even the puppy (and we seniors know how annoying puppies can be!). He was happy to let everyone pet him, walk him, and made it very clear that this group was just fine with him. Best of all, he got in their car eagerly, curled up on his bed (thanks again to "auntie" Jeanette) with his Brittany buddy Carmen by his side, and off they went. Brian swears that as they walked out to the car, Rusty Glenn looked back right at Brian and barked "thank you" - and I believe him!

I spoke to Margaret that night, as they were staying overnight in New Jersey with the family before heading out for the long trek back to Charlotte, North Carolina. He certainly is a well-traveled boy, as this trip will be yet another 1200 miles. RG was perfect on the short drive to Carmen's house(about 2 1/2 hours), made himself right at home when they got out, and he, Carmen and little Molly actually played together for quite a while in the yard. When Margaret called, all three were snoozing at her feet. Carmen and Rusty Glenn amused the entire family by chasing each other around the dining room table after dinner - those Brits know how to have fun together! I was delighted to see Carm again after almost two years, and surprised at how small she looked next to Rusty Glenn. I had always thought of him as a "little boy", and compared to my dear departed Saul he is, but Carm is at least three or four inches shorter. I guess she loomed much larger in my memory than in real life.

This is a very loving family, and just as important, Russ, who will be the main man in RG's life, really knows just how to handle him. He was so very gentle, yet firm, and RG took to him right away.

I will have another call from them when they are all home, and they did promise they would keep in touch. Wanda also took lots of digital photos, so hopefully I'll have some of those to show off soon. I was so focused on making sure all went well, and processing the paperwork, and getting all of RG's stuff together, I never even got my camera out.

It was as I expected, a bit sad this morning when no cold doggie nose woke me up, but I am completely satisfied that Rusty Glenn has found the perfect home, where he'll be loved and taken care of for the rest of his life. And of course there are always more dogs waiting, for foster homes as well as forever ones. We won't be dogless long.In other news (and the only other news I have), the garden continues to surprise. The peonies were just spectacular this year, as they apparently LOVE the dampness (unlike me)and I had a hard time picking just which of the many many photos to share with you. The coneflowers also look great, are tall and just starting to bloom, as are the black-eyed Susans. But unfortunately not all of my green buddies are happy.

For the first time since I gathered "Mom and Dad" marigold seeds, I have virtually no crop. We put out hundreds, if not thousands, of seed late May and early June, but the incessant rains have (I think) just rotted them in the ground, as we have entire terraces with not one single marigold. The same for the sunflower seeds my friend Frances sent from her Santa Barbara garden - planted, watched, but alas, not one single sprout. Our vegetable garden is surviving, but the two kinds of basil we put in six weeks ago are just as they were then. They haven't died, but also haven't grown - no sun! The tomato plants are a bit bigger, but they too are not as I would expect by now. They did set some flowers, but those all dropped off in the wet weather without ever forming a single tomato. The pepper plants are like the basil, there but unchanged from their planting height.
The poor eggplant are really struggling, and I empathize with them. Yellow leaves and droopy stems are not much fun, and in just a few days it will be July. I guess all I can do at this point is hope for a sunny month! Of course the hydrangea, aptly named, is flourishing as well as the peonies did - last year, in more normal cycles, we watered it almost every other day. As for the lilies, we might never know. Two does with fawns appeared a week ago, and as the rains washed away the granules and spray that discourages them from munching, they spent most of one night delicately eating off almost all of the flower buds. Apparently no one has instructed them about sharing! The fawns are as cute as ever, but really, can't they all just eat weeds and leave the tenderly planted things alone (not in this world!)?

So the garden continues to instruct me in patience and the inevitability of unpredictability, and the dogs teach me resilience and hope. Now if I can be as good a student as my teachers, I'll make some real progress.

May 3 2009

The biggest news here is the new foster dog, Rusty,
who arrived last Sunday and is already a part of the family. This poor guy was transported all the way from Illinois, over several days, as there are just no foster homes available there. I have a fairly complete history of his travels once ABR got involved, at the end of March, but as he's a senior boy (just right for our senior household) the biggest part of his story remains a mystery. He is the easiest foster I've had, either due to his gentle and loving temperament, or his age (he's also the oldest, my vet guesses 9 or 10). As he encountered many helpful folks along the way from surrender to a generic shelter in a suburb of Chicago by a woman who just said "single working mom don't have time for the dog" and indicated she'd had him about a year, at each turn, I got emails saying the same thing: I'd keep this good boy in a heartbeat if I didn't already have 3, 4, in one case 6 dogs myself. The Illinois vet's office boarded him for a few weeks, and in the end one of the employees known only to me as "poor Jeanette" took him home with her for another few weeks while we worked on transport logistics. Jeanette is the one who sent along kibble, canned food, two kinds of treats, leash, collar, and brand new dog bed. She wrote me that he's such a gentle soul, and so he is. His transport buddies all called and emailed at each step, to make sure he was doing well, and each one repeated what a great dog he was (and is). Now here he is, just about the perfect dog, except that unlike my insomniac self, he is a VERY early riser. Between six and six-thirty in the morning, he will consistently get up and walk over to the stairwell door, waiting to see which one of us staggers out to help him down the stairs, out the porch, and into the run. Luckily he is as willing as I am to go right back to sleep! We had a series of 90-degree days just as he arrived, and I was so pleased that he was quite able to keep up with us on our moderate walks despite the heat. And the first time we let him run off leash in our monastery neighbors' tennis courts, he was thrilled! It made me smile to see him so happy just to run free and sniff - and then I wondered, had this boy ever gotten to do this before? My favorite shot of him so far is among the wood violets, who, like Rusty, are sweet and small and undemanding.
A perfect match! Brian has decided he doesn't look like a Rusty (as if I know what a Rusty looks like, at any given time there are many on the ABR web site and no two look alike). Much to my puzzled amusement, Brian claims he looks like a Glenn. Now who among you reading this has ever looked at any dog and said, "Looks like Glenn to me"? And as Rusty Glenn immediately began following Brian everywhere, his new formal name is Rusty Glenn Shapiro.

In other news, and there is some, we have a dove nesting in our weeping cherry,
exactly where a nest last year was knocked down by the neighbor cats. She's very pretty, and I wish her well, but not only has she made what I think is a very poor choice of nesting spots, given all the 40-foot trees around here, her architectural skills are awful!
I had thought this random pile of twigs was at best an abandoned nest, till I spotted the eggs inside. I hope to be able to tell tales of hatchlings soon, instead of scrambled eggs.

The garden changed overnight the first day of high temperatures, and now we are seeing the lilacs bloom
as the tulips and forsythia drop their petals. The daffodils wilted on the very first day, as did I, and are now just a fond memory. Soon to come will be the iris blooms, then peonies, then lilies.

So that's the news from here. Hope all goes well with all of you, and that your gardens are blooming and your dogs (if you're lucky enough to have them) are thriving too.

March 10 2009

Blooms, beagles and babies: all here for you to enjoy! First, the blooms, which are our forced forsythia stems, second batch. These, as you can see, are in some cases taller than I am!
And best of all, I do believe the outdoor bushes will be blooming quite soon, as we have finally seen enough snow recede to view the ground. Took a stroll yesterday, first time down at the pond in months, and all around the grounds noticed many allium sprouts along with the daffs, crocuses, and one very brave stand of tulips up out of the ground and just waiting for that much-needed warm spell to surge and bloom. The back terraces, as every year, have moved around a bit, so once the ground is not so soggy, Brian will have a big job to do in restacking the stones and supporting the terraces. But after such a very long and bitter winter, I am actually looking forward to weeding (that should last about a month).

Second, the beagle story (unfortunately no snapshot). Last October, mid-month, two nice young guys and their beagle stayed with us for a weekend. I knew I'd like them, as the beagle, Sheila, had more luggage than both of them. We had just gotten Brittie, our then-foster dog, back from the vet's with multiple stitches, so I had to make sure the dogs didn't socialize, but admired Sheila from a distance. Very cute, very smart, and I was primed to like beagles from Uno's Best of Show win at last year's Westminster. They left, and before the month was over, I thought I saw a beagle running across the monastery grounds right after our first snow. But then I said to myself (I talk to myself more and more the longer I live out here) "you're just missing Sheila" - and it happened so fast, I really couldn't be sure that I'd seen anything.

November and December eventually passed, with much snow and really bitter weather. During that time I caught sight of this little dog enough to be convinced I was not imagining things, there was indeed a very little beagle running around without a collar, in the foothills of the Catskills, in the middle of winter. But I also knew that a dog I thought was homeless the first year we moved here, was not, just not being kept to my standards. So I just kept obsessing about the dog, every night I went to bed, wondering who it belonged to, whether it was safe, warm, etc.

And then, in late January, Brian and I went out for our morning walk and the beagle was just on the property line between our neighbors and the monastery - just standing out in way too much snow and barking so sadly. It happened the neighbor came out just then, and I asked if he knew who this dog belonged to. He said "no one", the dog had showed up at their place a week or two earlier and his wife Jackie had been putting out cat food for it to eat (they are, as you might imagine, cat people). Now that I knew this was a dumped dog, I got on the phone and internet for several days, looking for someone, really ANYONE, to help round this dog up and take it to safety. I even contacted three beagle rescue organizations. Only one bothered to write back, and declined to rescue this beagle, telling me that perhaps animal control could take it for a few weeks prior to "putting it down", and that there were worse things than a humane death. Well, I certainly agree with that, but having worried over this dog all winter, my solution was NOT to ship it off to certain death. Finally I was able to convince a no-kill shelter about 40 minutes from us, already overflowing with dogs, cats, horses and birds, to consider taking the beagle. The woman who runs the place (Kerry, my new BFF) wrote that even though they were far too full, the story was just too sad for her to walk away from. So, if we would drive up there, get their trap, and bring the dog in, they'd take her and keep her for the rest of her life if they couldn't find someone to adopt her. YAY! We went tearing off to get the trap (which could have held a mastiff easily), and rushed right back, as yet another huge snowstorm was a day or two away. Our compassionate genius neighbor Jackie, after setting out the cat food and watching the little dog go in and out of the trap without it closing (poor dog was so underweight!), decided to leave a trail of the previous night's pork roast all the way down her path, into the trap, and at the back of the trap put a rather large piece to gnaw on. Success! Clearly not a Jewish dog, or at least not Kosher observant, in she went, gnawed for a while, then took pieces from Jackie's fingers while licking her hands. Up close she looked a bit worse than I thought, but clearly was someone's dog some time, not at all aggressive, just a bit confused. Off we went to the shelter, where I did cry at our goodbyes, but promised Valentine (we took her in Feb. 13) that life was really going to get better now. And it did - before I could get back from visiting my family in the Chicago area, Brian called me to share the big news - she'd been adopted! Valentine was only in the shelter 9 days, and would have been adopted even sooner but the shelter policy required a quarantine period to test for diseases and parasites. I do believe this is the best thing I've done this year!


Last, but clearly never least, the baby. While Hyla never takes a bad photo, this is one of my favorites. Am I wrong or is this not the perfect baby? Doting grandma in evidence as a knee...

January 10 2009

Happy 2009! I join almost everyone in bidding a not so fond farewell to 2008, and am hopeful (despite op ed pieces to the contrary) that all will improve in the coming year, both macrocosm and microcosm.


It is just as bitter cold here as those of you not here have been told it is. With our first snowfall in late October, this winter already feels like several years' duration. In December there were giant frost swirls all over the porch glass, and outside the absolutely white snow showed snarled traces of deer circles. The snow was well over a foot deep, and Brian waged a heroic battle keeping up with the necessary shoveling. Over one weekend there was a four-hour period when I saw three bouts of shovelling; as the coward who stayed inside I am impressed with Brian's tenacity and capacity! When the temperature rose all the way to 20, though, I did suit up and walk the usual half hour, on mostly passable roads with just a few icy patches. We are telling each other how lucky we are to have power (and a backup generator, which makes my winter cold fears somewhat lesser)as hundreds of thousands of houses in all directions from ours were not so lucky. Looking out at the white expanse extending everywhere, I'm glad we don't have to go anywhere on a regular basis.


The night of Brian's art reception in NYC was the worst ice storm in years - we made it in, but had taken overnight bags just in case. When the few and the brave actually showed up that night, including our ABR pals Daniel and Tim, who live about an hour north of our house, we were able to confirm that going home was not an option. They were staying with family in New Jersey, and as they arrived several hours after we did, made it clear that no one was going back on our country roads that night. In spite of the horrible weather, we managed to have a good time, as Daniel bought a couple of paintings (another reason to love the dog people), and Hyla arrived with Lisa and Josh, quite literally stealing the show. I walked around the entire show, all 36 paintings, telling her about each one - and she seemed to listen! After the tour, Brian entertained her by crawling around with her on the floor, while the few other folks that arrived admired her motor skills and bright smile. We stayed that night at the home of Brian's kindergarten friend Sanford's, and just in case I needed confirmation, got real life experience proving I am way too old to crash on a couch any more. Driving back the next day was surprisingly easy, as the ice storm, having done pretty heavy damage all around us, was quickly melting away in an unseasonable heat wave. When we got home, we were relieved to see our house had not lost power - I think the monks and nuns next door have provided a blanket of meditative energy that we are lucky enough to be near! Truly, everywhere in every direction of us had power lines down.


Now well in to January, this past week's ice storm, while less damaging than the December 11th one, has hung on and on, as the temperature has not gotten anywhere above freezing in a week. So last night I went out to snap a few shots of the great outdoors, which looks very much like Narnia before the wicked witch was conquered. Everything is ice-coated, and while it does look quite beautiful in the sun, or this weekend's full moon, very sparkly and twinkly, now that it's been snowing yet again for several hours, and predictions are for another 10 inches of snow, we are on continuous generator alert, thinking the ice plus all the snow weight will probably bring down some trees or lines somewhere hereabouts. My digital camera efforts are not really doing justice to the scene, but you can get some idea.

And in conclusion, the only garden news in this seemingly endless winter is that yesterday I ate my first Aerogarden home grown tomato of this cycle. Delicious, but as with last time's try, even with free stuff that the manufacturer send me, it's about $10/per cherry tomato - and one would have to compare to small cherries at that! Oh well, soon the spring will come (I keep telling myself) and then I'll be back at full time weeding and foster dog care. And what is happening out your way? I'd love to know...

November 12 2008

Despite the cold, what a great month this is already! Seeing the great turnout to vote, particularly among first timers (note Hyla right there giving moral support) and people of color made me wish that my best friend Murphy, and my Dad, were alive to enjoy the moment. I was so moved and excited by the election results, perhaps more than most as I am a native Chicagoan, and also worked in the very same districts as an elementary school teacher (though decades earlier) that Barak Obama worked in as a community organizer. As you might imagine, hearing that anyone in any prominence politically had ever even been to the poorest and most disenfranchised Chicago neighborhoods was amazing to me. And even though some people I both love and admire had what I thought was way too much misinformation about Mr. Obama in general, the one point I could speak to from personal experience was that NOBODY goes to Chicago's South or West sides for political advancement. Particularly without press..


Closer to home, Brittie the amazing got adopted last Saturday. This is always both a happy and sad moment for me. I know when I get these foster dogs that I am just one link in a chain that leads to their forever home, but it is hard to remember that sometimes. In Brittie's case, having to deal with the aftermath of her surgery (stitches that had to be examined twice daily for two weeks, probably no big deal to most folks but for medically phobic me, a real challenge), as well as the continued debate about just who owns the bed, and who walks who, actually endeared her to me even more. And a week prior to her adoption, she gave me great proof that she is in fact the smartest girl ever. Our dog run is accessed through a dog door Brian made in one of our porch walls, and secured from inside by a hook and eye latch. I always unhook the door for the current dog, wait until whatever has to be done is done, then bring the dog back into the porch and relock the dog door before going out the human door and gate to pick up, if necessary. I do this because I am really worried that a dog that doesn't know me that well might bolt the gate and run off to who knows where, and I take the foster responsibility very seriously. So when I was out one night past midnight to do the final pickup, I was surprised to find Brittie running right up to me. I thought to myself, I really AM getting old, I'm sure I locked that door! But just assumed all those "senior moments" had caught up to me in a big way. But when it happened again, the next day in full sun, I began to really worry about whether I was losing what was left of my mind. Then the mystery was solved - I went back to the porch, relocked the door with Brittie watching, and waited. She calmly went over, lifted the hook latch up with her nose, and pushed the door open. Apparently she learned this just from watching me do it, as I certainly never tried to teach her. Doggie genius!


And to conclude, we have almost finished putting the gardens to bed. Just one last tomato left to eat, and many bags of frozen tomato pulp to use all winter. As usual, the garden continues to surprise. The green zebras, best producers for the last two years, barely got a few dozen tomatoes out this year, I don't know why. The big reds were rather late (end of August!) but huge and delicious, and continued to set tomatoes all October. But the most prolific of all this year was something called Georgia Peach Tomato, which is actually yellow and about the size of a plum. They were the first to be edible, and put out so many toms I had to take bags of them over to the monastery. Sweet, pretty, and long-lived - what I wish for all of us!

October 14 2008

Yellow Mums

Red Brown Mums

Asters and Mums

Woods Looking North

Woods Looking East

Maple in the Woods

Burning Bush

After a cold first week in October, the weather warmed to perfection and the leaves began to really show color. Now along with the dozens of shades of fading greens, the forest is full of golds, reds, browns and endless combinations of those colors. It seems to me the color is far better than last fall, perhaps because we had such a wet spring and prolific summer. Whatever the reason, it's easy to see great displays of color at every turn of the country road up around here, and all around our own property. As most of the garden dies back, the mums and asters bloom here and there, keeping thoughts of winter back for now. The birds continue to feast on the coneflower seeds in groups. We've had a huge coneflower crop this year and seeds are everywhere, still on the stalk, scattered on the ground, and I hope at least a few don't get eaten and will spring up next year.




Brittie
We now have our fourth foster dog, Brittie, who came to us in pretty sad shape but is now doing so much better. It seems that her former owners were rather neglectful of her health, by the time she got to us she needed 4 teeth pulled, and 3 lumps removed, in addition to the minor things like an ear infection and overlong nails. Good, strong girl that she is, she came through very well, and yesterday had her stitches removed and was certified as perfectly healthy. She is quite easy in the house, but outside is rather challenging, to say the least. Only weighing a bit over 40 lbs., she manages to pull both Brian and I (total weight 275!) even though we have two leashes attached to her harness. The harness was purchased because I was really afraid she'd choke herself with just a collar. She is reputed to come from hunting stock, and I guess all the critters' scents and sights out here are just more than she can sit still for -literally. As I am no dog whisperer, I'm still trying several techniques (and please do send any helpful tips along) with varying small degrees of success. Next try is to fit her with a Gentle Leader, which I've heard helps dogs that pull hard on leash. Or, I could just get a sled and not worry about the high cost of gas. I'll bet she could get me in to Pine Bush in half an hour and not even be worn out.

Brittie with Toy

















Left Side
















Right Side




















In the Dog Run