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Sunday, May 05, 2019

I went to Bend’s Old Mill District to meet a friend for lunch, and for some reason, arrived an hour too early. Fortunately, I was carrying a book and upon recognizing my mistake began wandering in the morning sunshine, among bunches of people out enjoying the day. Spotting an empty seat under an umbrella providing shade from a warm midday sunshine, I sat to read.

I sat beside a walking path that runs alongside the Deschutes River. While reading, I didn’t watch nearby action but heard the passing noises of bicycles, strollers, conversations, and of course, Canada Geese on the River, some noisily preparing to lift off in flight. Finally closing my book, I stood and looked toward the River, soon becoming drawn to an illustrated signboard describing the local history.

I stood beside the Deschutes River as it’s flowing westward, just before starting to curve north toward where Bend’s Old Mill once stood. The Mill’s original location is indicated by three still-standing preserved smokestacks. One can imagine the clouds of steam that early-on must have plummeted from those stacks 24-hours a day. Bend’s early lumber mills were erected soon after the completion of railroad tracks across miles of incredibly rugged country from Hood River to Bend. Once the railroad arrived in Bend, in 1910, the lumber industry followed and made local communities wealthy by creating lumber from trees in surrounding massive forests, and distributing the finished products by rail.

The spot where I stood looking over the River once was filled constantly with newly sawed and floating trees. The Mill took advantage of the natural resource to float raw materials from their upstream origins directly to the Mill. Some early Mill workers specialized in standing on the floating logs, riding along to ensure that the logs without jamming progressed to their final destination. My information source added that in winters, workers floating on the logs had to navigate, and also break up accumulating ice on the water, to keep log traffic moving.

Sudden bird action over the water caught my attention. Nearby sitting atop before taking off from an old staked bird house, a gorgeous blackbird swiftly flew over the water and circled widely before returning momentarily to perch on that bird house. Its long tail and gleaming feathers fabulously reflected the sun’s myriad colors, and its white underbelly, suggested a Violet Green Swallow.

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Besides having the pleasure of visiting over lunch with a long-time friend, I was grateful for an opportunity to be on the other side of town, and although by accident early enough for time to learn more of Bend’s history and to witness a fabulous wild bird show.

Dear Friends, spring finally has arrived and it’s beyond welcome. Diana

Saturday, May 04, 2019

Yesterday, I was watching stock market commentators point to a rapidly rising IPO called Alt-Meat and representing The Alternative Meat Company. Curious, I explored and learned something about laboratory raised meat–created by removing stem cells from meat muscle, and then, using them to grow laboratory meat. It’s considered an environmentally friendly method of satisfying folks who prefer eating the “real thing”. Plus, huge, long-time and familiar, meat producing companies are starting to draw on Alt-Meat technology to create their own brands of laboratory foods.

There are vegan alternatives, some arguably tasty, even going widespread and being featured by national food chains. I’ve worked part-time on and off for a dozen years at Costco as a food sample server, and witnessed the shift from meaty and fatty foods, and high-carb side dishes, to healthier alternatives. Over time, even male customers who primarily were meat eaters have shifted from high resistance, now settling somewhat into reluctant compliance.

Yesterday, demo folks pushed foods for the upcoming cinco de mayo and I worked as a breaker, rotating among tables to relieve personnel for breaks and lunches. A surprising number of the foods I served (labeled as healthy but still too salty and high on carbs) were meatless, made with alternative proteins like beans. The customers, from yuppies representing newer residents, to the entrenched farming types, who sampled foods complained little. Costco is selling lots of the new foods and the store continues to bring in updated varieties of such items.

I brought home some newer foods. They’re easy nutrition, taste good, are simple to fix, and save preparation and clean-up times. Fortunately, because of my pocketbook, over time I’ve lost an attraction to meats. And I suppose, because of my sensitivities, I’m turned off to thoughts of consuming alternate meats.

My underlying concerns are about environmental health with hopes that humans can find ways to preserve the best of it. I’m also worried about the future of genetics, and how the curiosity of researchers might expand manipulations in a field with the power to alter life as we’ve learned through experience to understand it.

Dear Friends, in these times of change and decisions and we’ve much to learn. Diana

Friday, May 03, 2019

The photo taken on a warm, sunshiny, lovely day, captures my African Pigmy goat, Sego Lily, snuggled against a snag and enjoying her zzzzs. Sego Lily is mama to twins, Breeze and Poppy, who now are 10 years old. We must guess Sego Lily’s age, as long ago someone rescued her from a herd and made her a pet. Having learned late about being handled, she’s cautious around humans. Only after months of living with me could she be approached and handled. She’s always suspicious of motive, and super sensitive, so she’ll run and hide at the slightest possibility that someone might want to trim her hooves or medicate her. And the babies instantly mimic her cues.

I estimate that she’s now about 15 years old. Sego Lily came to me as a “toss-in” with her babies when they were six months old, and since their birth had been handled by humans. The babies instantly became my buddies, but suspicious mama needed time.

From the beginning it was striking how bonded those three little goats were, and over time, they’ve evolved very strongly into a unit of one. The tiny herd goes everywhere together, and when loose follows me around.

These days, I watch Sego Lily closely. Over the last couple of years, she’s become increasingly arthritic, and this spring seems very old and tired. It’s surprising how attached to her I’ve grown; it’s sad trying to imagine us without her. Especially for her no-longer babies, who’ve never been separated one moment from their mom.

Now Sego Lily’s babies are mature adults, and their good mama of unknown age still can get onto her feet and eat with interest in food. Although Sego Lily moves stiffly, and coming out of winter, her coat has a slightly moth-eaten look, maybe she can hold on and keep staying with us.

Dear Friends, have a wonderful day. Diana

Thursday, May 02, 2019

My donkey, Pimmy, gets routine care same as the horses. Besides the basics like inoculations, wormings, and feed supplements, she receives dental work and hoof trimming. She’s a smallish equine, so experts tending to her teeth and hooves sometimes are on their knees while working on her.

Pimmy teaches much about patience, courage, and devotion. As a little one among a couple of big, sometimes nippy horses, she figures out how to get along. She reads their moods and their willingness to tolerate her presence. She particularly has ingratiated herself with my lead mare who brooks no interference from other horses; in fact, that sometimes grumpy mare lets Pimmy share her food, stand beside her while lounging, and snooze with her in a single stall.

In ways that donkeys differ from horses, maybe their most impressive and endearing qualities are bonding and devotion. When the horses are hauled, Pimmy usually goes along, to baby-sit the one waiting its turn to be worked. She’s an incredibly loyal companion, loosely follows when her horses are carrying riders on trails.

Her bonding and devotion strengths suggest that if she lived at my place without horses, she’d follow me around and off-lead. I’m reminded of images from another century, many show a gold miner on foot and leading a loaded donkey, illustrating a tight, co-dependent relationship.

Our farrier understands how Pimmy’s hooves differ from a horse’s. This spring, he pointed out that her inner hooves are bruised from the winter snows. He explained that the depth of a donkey’s inner hoof allows snow to pack tightly into it, and stay put, which causes the bruising.

Every day, I learn more about my little Pimmy. Her presence has been one of the “best things” that’s ever happened for me.

Dear Friends, donkeys are rideable and trainable to fancy performance levels. Diana

Wednesday, May 01, 2019

I’ve a longtime fascination with pigs. They’re supposed to be very smart, and many people say they’re good pets. Many years ago, I wanted to adopt a pet pig from people who were moving away. She was their very friendly and fully housebroken pet. But I lived in a neighborhood community that except for dogs, cats, and “pocket pets” wouldn’t allow animals. Later, after moving onto a small acreage, I looked on the internet for small pigs, but since my horses, dogs, cats, and birds kept me busy, it didn’t seem fair to a new pet, or to me, to adopt again. Besides, rumors have it that teacup or pigmy pigs, descending from potbellies, usually grow quite large.

This week, I met the massive and beautiful Shasta along with her week-old babies. Shasta is a recent import from California, two years old and very special, for she’s a show pig. I’m a novice, to my eyes Shasta could have weighed 400 lbs. with her every inch lean and solid. She’s very friendly but pushy, and it was astonishing to find how easily she could have pushed me completely off my feet. Apparently, a pig’s low center of gravity gives it power. Standing low and compact, it has the strength of a mini-tractor.

A show pig must be as perfect a specimen of the species as possible. The animal should be correct in its every component. It ought to demonstrate an appropriate lean-to-fat ratio, and have good legs, feet, tail, and ears, and have correct numbers of teeth and nipples. Besides herself having it all, Shasta passed her good qualities on to her new babies.

In the “babies photo” above, the littlest one at the back, the litter’s runt, would have been my pick if I could have afforded her, although she’ll ultimately become a very big girl. These little piglets are being much-handled by adults and children, will become people friendly like their mom. Some will grow into breeders, others will be shown as 4H projects.

Oh, how I’d love to have had the experience and fun of a pet pig!

Dear Friends, the luxury of enjoying animals heightens appreciations of them. Diana

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Rosie is my 22-year-old mare who’s lately not been asked to do much work. I hope to return her to action by starting to hitch and drive her. Her earliest years were as a driving horse, a role she knows well, and again n0w she needs a job. We’re only getting started on this path, because I’m a new driver who finally knows my role in a hoped for collaboration.

Yesterday, Rosie went to Dr. Paul Edmonds who had determined that she needed chiropractic work. She stood quietly, without objecting, while he pushed and pulled on her every inch. He worked on straightening her hips and aligning her spine from head to tail. Dr. Paul was very thorough, in aligning her body his goal was to adjust the action of Rosie’s rear legs and feet.

Rosie moves in a manner that’s “narrow in the rear”. While she trots, her left back foot tends slightly to cross over to the front of her right back foot. Ideally, her rear legs would move straighter, more sturdily apart. Dr. Paul estimates that her “off movements” are caused by out-of-alignment hips. He sees while she’s trotting that Rosie’s right hip dips and rises less than her right hip.

So, we’re fixing her.

Today is stage two of straightening Rosie’s legwork. Our farrier understands corrective shoeing and will adjust her hooves. He’ll shape each, to suit Rosie’s conformation and make it optimal to its task. Then he’ll create shoes that will balance each hoof to support the desired rear action. We’ll ultimately see while she’s in motion, adequate space between her back legs and that her hooves rise and land evenly.

The third stage, my daily responsibility, will be exercising Rosie to strengthen her readjusted body and reinforce improved moving. She’ll be long-lined–or controlled by 30-foot ropes and asked circle, trotting in both directions–with me handling her ropes. After Rosie appropriately has become stronger, she can be hitched.

Rosie’s team includes our driving trainer who’ll provide guidance and techniques to help return the renewed Rosie to action.

Dear Friends, accomplishing nearly any worthwhile goal “takes a village”. Diana

Monday, April 29, 2019

When I got my very first horses, not so long ago, I imagined hooves as wooden blocks at the bottoms of legs. That’s how much I knew about horses and feet in general. Unfortunately, or fortunately–whichever way I look at it–my earliest riding horse had a background of laminitis–a hoof condition about which I knew nothing. That mare always had been shod, but preferring a barefoot horse I had her shoes removed. Our first long trail ride glaringly indicated something wrong. She moved slowly, seemed in pain, and increasingly so as we continued. Someone pointed out that her feet were sore. I wondered, “Hooves get sore?”. Thinking back, my early ignorance is beyond embarrassing; it’s self-flagellation to remember having made a barefoot horse in laminitic condition carry my insensitive self.

I learned about laminitis, an inflammation of soft tissues in the hoof–that part of a horse that I’d thought wood-like. Within a hoof is a key bone, called a coffin bone. Surrounding and supporting that key bone are all sort of tissues and blood vessels that are essential to a healthy and functioning foot, and to a fully-functional horse. I began realizing that a horse’s hooves are components one must get right. I studied hoof structures, the dynamics of flexing and movement, and eventually became enough educated to evaluate farrier skills. Also, I did start shoeing my mare, using the type that a rider buckles on the horse prior to riding and removes afterwards. In them, she easily covered trails.

Fast forward to my current horses. They arrived with feet tough as nails, and hooves that had been everywhere, done everything, never needing shoes. For years, I rode these horses barefoot, until parts of my own body began to fail. With an increasingly sore back and painful knees, I began considering starting to drive instead of riding. That forced me again to focus on hooves. Pulling a cart or carriage creates traction that pressures hooves, and they quickly wear too-thin. Keeping a driving horse’s hooves healthy requires shoeing them with iron. My horses often pull on pavements that add landing impact, so shoeing them requires an impact-absorbing pad between hoof and iron.

Hooves and physical structure are essential to equine health and veterinarians are improving their skills in observing and understanding, diagnosing and correcting movements. My “horse career” has taken me far from an early single desire to “trail ride on a horse”, until now, when much of each spring requires attending to joint and hoof health.

And, there are my feet. They’ve carried me through career years that forced them into high heels and other just-awful shoe designs with inadequate support. I’m sorry for my feet in that past and feel lucky they still support. We humans could use easy accesses to standardized periodic routine foot diagnoses, for best-way-to-treat-feet guidelines. Assessing feet relative to life styles and activities to inform care could increase pain-free living.

Dear Friends, our feet deserve the best and its appropriate to address needs. Diana

Sunday, April 28, 2019

Several years ago, I was in turmoil over having to say goodby to an old mare that had lived with me a long while. She was the most dependable, willing, and sweet horse I’d ever known, and still is, even compared to my current dearly-loved horses. That old mare taught this elderly novice horsewoman to ride. She took care of me on familiar and unfamiliar horse trails; and when we would amble into brand new areas to explore, she had absolutely incredible radar about directions, always returned us even to remote trailheads.

I was equally determined and heartbroken while hauling this horse to where I last would see her. She long had been arthritic and in pain, barely able to move around and tired. But on this ride, like all the animals that ever have ridden with me to their last stops at a veterinarian, she seemed unusually alert, it appeared too early for her to face what was ahead. Alternately, I was in a steely state of defiance or soaking in teary heartbreak.

A friend had ridden with me to support this event. She reached toward my shoulder and said, “It’s okay”, paused thoughtfully and added, “A horse is like no other pet.”

To this day, whenever I’m around horses, I consider how horses aren’t like other pets. Watching those 1,000-lb. animals, behaving normally or getting into mischief, it’s always in my mind how vulnerable they are–to injury, colic, noises that spook them. And how much commitment it takes to care for them–having space, acquiring hay, covering expenses, adequately transporting, and experimenting with tack.

Horses are bunches of fun. They’re huge commitments, all consuming, beautiful and captivating. And to the emotions, in so many ways unlike all others.

Dear Friends: Have a lovely day. Diana

Saturday, April 27, 2019

On entering my house, one first notices the loud noises of machines, and approaching the main living area’s center, feels blasts of chilly, strong multi-directional winds. For in my kitchen several wind machines are running full-on. They’re in an area adjacent to where I’m sitting now, in chilly winds and wearing jacket and hat. I’m hoping my fingers will remain warm and flexible for computer keys.

It’s totally my fault that a massive under-cabinet leak went unnoticed long enough to cause this hub-bub. For several days, I noticed that water from the kitchen sink tap wasn’t flowing normally. Also, the faucet dripped even while shut off. Throughout my life, a noticeable personal trait frequently costs me–it’s my wanting to avoid seeing something that my intuition senses might be off. Honestly, it occurred to me to look under the sink; of course, it did. And I didn’t.

That is, until the faucet’s shrinking water flow became unusually noticeable. So, I sighed and bent, pulled out boxes of cleaning supplies, and peered into the under cabinet where floods of water had poured from a faulty faucet connector. Evidently, that had happened awhile, as now, the soaked cabinet area was grungy-looking. I moaned, “Why didn’t I look earlier!”, while turning to a computer to seek a plumber. Sigh, problems from “things-off” are likely when I’ve fallen into avoidance mode.

Long story short, a plumber came and replaced the faucet–the easy part. His visit was followed by an intrusive restoration team, and for days to come, their fans will consume needed space and force me to exist in big noise and air. Last evening, the racket put my cat Maxwell into his own avoidance mode, I had to sling him into the house and encourage him to pass the machines toward his dinner beyond. The dogs were easy, rushing toward their dinners and ignoring all else.

In the middle of this unhappy invasion, I sigh, if only I’d followed my instincts and looked for a problem; but alas, I didn’t. And at the expense of repeating myself, this avoidance trait again is costly and giving me penances. This time they’re noise and wind as I mutter my old old mantra, “In the future, I will be different!”

So far in this intrusion, Peaches has been surprisingly quiet. Hopefully, he won’t start mocking the sounds of rushing wind.

Dear Friends, at least, this didn’t happen during our freezing wintertime. Diana

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Friday, April 26, 2019

A large factor in preparing my mares, Sunni and Rosie, for driving this summer has been to have a professional who understands sport horses assess them. I hauled the girls to Dr. Paul Edmonds, in Redmond, who spent lots of time studying their movements, limbs, joints, muscles, and hooves. He was on target, pointing out elements that I knew already, and adding insights new to me from his observations.

He felt that minor pain in Sunni’s front legs is from her too-long hooves. To this point, I’m chagrined that her hooves weren’t trimmed before this assessment, but fate had it that an accident put our farrier out of commission for two weeks, and I stalled for yet another week, hoping to learn that both horses are capable of being driven, and thus, could be shod. Once Sunni’s hooves are trimmed, Dr. Paul thinks she’ll be in fine driving condition–and today, our farrier is coming.

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Dr. Paul wants me to wait before driving Rosie, he first wants to perform chiropractor work on her hips. He might be onto something, for Rosie has periodic rear soreness, and we’ve considered lots except that perhaps her hips are out of alignment. Until receiving that hip adjustment, she’ll be exercised on long-lines. Sunni will go along on Rosie’s next visit so the veterinarian can assess her hoof trims (he took hoof x-rays to guide the farrier).

All this is big, for when one asks lots from an animal–and pulling a cart or carriage is hard work–it’s reassuring when experts can help the animal produce adequate effort. Now, assisted by a capable veterinarian and our talented driving trainer, we’ll start hitching-up, for serious.

Dear Friends, it’ll be interesting, how a hip adjustment affects Rosie overall. Diana