Still Running

Saturday, January 17, 2026

Yesterday, two of my dogs and I went for an outing in my favorite BLM. It’s local and small—only about a thousand acres—with an irrigation canal running alongside a well-trodden footpath. The canal is empty now, except for bottom ice in places.

The afternoon was overcast, with temperatures in the mid-thirties—cold enough to freeze the fingers of my ungloved hand as I worked the camera. The camera itself felt cold-bodied, too, its mechanisms slightly sluggish.

The dogs, unbothered by any of this, were on fire.

Chase popped out of the SUV and never stopped running. Mitzvah started off more slowly and cautiously, but soon fell into the serious business of being a dog. I’ve long felt the absence of recent photos of these two, and this seemed the right chance to repair that.

It was also an opportunity to learn more about my fairly new camera. It has amazing zoom capabilities, but it doesn’t enable new shots quite quickly enough for me. It recalibrates in only an instant, yet that pause still frustrates me. That hour or so of practicing didn’t magically make the camera operate better—but it did make me more comfortable with how it handles.

And I like the images.

Both dogs are difficult to capture. Chase is fast, rarely pausing long enough for a clean shot. Little Mitzvah, equally busy, easily disappears into tall brush and weeds.

This BLM is a special place. It’s unknown to tourists and doesn’t allow overnight camping. Mostly, it’s known to locals—people with dogs—who look for semi-private spaces where dogs can run freely. We love this BLM.

Every year brings some new, quiet creativity along the path. This season, it’s foot crossings over the canal.

This post isn’t merely about an outing in a beloved spot. It’s an update, with current photos of my younger dogs—and a reassurance that Chase still lives with me. That escape artist may be slowing down, working a little less at defeating confinement. He’s a happy camper.

Still, Chase requires a close eye—because that’s simply who he is.

—Diana

My Miles

Sunday, January 04, 2026

My Border Collie, Miles, turned fifteen this year. Yesterday, he crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I cannot say enough about how special he was.

Miles was a big boy. His beautiful double coat made him appear larger than his fifty pounds—all of them slim, flexible, and fast across countless horse trails, with me and the rest of our entourage. He never passed up an opportunity to swim in water holes or wallow in mud.

He was an independent fellow. He didn’t push other dogs around, nor did he allow others to push him. During our many trail adventures, there were long stretches when I couldn’t see Miles, but I always knew he was tracking—and before long, he’d appear ahead of us on the trail.

The dogs and I often hiked a small BLM parcel alongside an irrigation canal. Miles adored that canal. He swam in it, snorkeled in it, and leaped from one side to the other. He also loved the area’s high, rocky peaks, his flexible body handling even the toughest terrain with ease.

Miles was a true Border Collie. His herding instinct was immense. The one thing that might have made his life even more complete would have been a herd—sheep, cattle, or any group of critters needing a decision-maker to help guide them.

Even without that, Miles had a lifetime full of joy. He fairly earned the arthritis that gradually overtook his once-extraordinary flexibility. His mind, however, never accepted those physical limits. Miles insisted on going everywhere with me—and always insisted on being off-leash. Eventually, his safety required otherwise, when his body could no longer support his free-ranging spirit.

I loved Miles. That big Border Collie was a gift for many years. I miss him now—and will forever—because he was one of a kind, irreplaceable.

— Diana

His Escape-Hatches

Introducing an adorable puppy (3 years ago)

Tuesday, September 09, 2025

Lately, we’ve had steady rains—not downpours, but enough to soften the soil. Chase, my strong and stubborn young dog, has seized the opportunity to resume his favorite pastime: escaping. Almost daily. His little buddy, Mitzvah, ever watchful, waits until Chase digs wide enough for her to slip through—and she’s the first one out.

So far, neither has strayed far enough for a search party. More often, I open the door and there they are—wagging, panting, crowding each other to greet me. I swallow my distress, invite them in, hand out cookies, and then return them to their outdoor space. After that, I’ll walk the fence line, hunting for their escape hatch and blocking it as best I can.

Two problems. First, this almost always happens on a workday, just when I’m about to leave. Chase makes me late (again). Second, after three years of patching holes, I’m out of easy, right-sized rocks. What’s left are the too-big ones, and moving those requires sweat and ingenuity.

Yesterday, muttering to myself, I declared for the hundredth time, “This dog must go!” The counter-argument came just as quickly: “But no one else would put up with his escapes. A really good dog like Chase might end up treated poorly—or frequently running loose and in danger.” And so, after countless escapes, Chase still lives here. Along with little Mitzvah, his sometimes partner in crime.

This morning’s drizzle and my work schedule make for perfect digging conditions. After feeding the horses, donkey, and chickens, I’ll haul out the garden wagon to help wrestle a few heavy stones (if needed) into place. Meanwhile, I’m crossing my fingers that today (please!)—Chase, don’t dig!

— Diana

Hauling Along

Friday, March 07, 2025

Despite the apparent recklessness of America’s newly installed leadership, the volatile stock market swings that unsettle me, the widespread neglect of climate action, concerns over healthcare, and the moral uncertainties within the judiciary—despite all of it—I must remain grounded in the activities of my daily life, carrying on as usual, unless (or until) those sorts of conditions force me to adapt.

In reality, I’m already adapting by prioritizing savings. My grocery choices are more deliberate and budget-conscious, my online shopping has dropped significantly, and instead of cycling back into the department store where I work part-time, my paychecks are making it home.

Much like during the “Days of Covid,” I can stay grounded and engaged on my small property, tending to the land and my animals. There’s always plenty to keep me active, allowing most of those bigger worries to fade into the background.

Today, I face the challenge of working with my donkey, Pimmy, as she heads to the equine vet for a blood draw to check her insulin levels and overall health. The first hurdle will be getting her into the horse trailer—she tends to resist loading unless one of her horses is already inside. To make the process smoother, I’ll keep her breakfast light, ensuring she’s hungry enough to be tempted by a bag of hay waiting in the trailer. The next hurdle will be to reload her after our vet visit, but on that end, someone will be available to help.

Otherwise, this day off from my part-time job will be routine tasks—feeding the animals, tidying up around the barn, and tackling some organizing (or reorganizing) inside the house. To prevent a tendency to dwell on political and economic concerns, I’ll stick to my to-do list and focus on getting things done.

Dear Friends: Confusion clashes with our sense of order, inviting a “bumpy ride.” Diana

Hi, Mary!

Saturday, December 07, 2024

The other day, my mail brought a Christmas card with a So Cal return address but not the sender’s name. I chuckled over a handwritten note on the envelope: “Love that dog, Chase!”

I can’t guess how many people read my blogs because Google owns the writing platform and downloads blogs in response to internet queries about related topics. However, I know some readers in Southern California, where I’m from. I mentally played with possible note jotters and landed correctly on Mary Martini!

Mary and I used to work together at Kaiser Permanente. She’s one of the two best-organized people I’ve been lucky to work with, and she loves Chase!-my young dog; he’s strong, stubborn, exasperating, exhausting, and way too intelligent.

Okay, Mary, at the risk of repeating old stories, I’ll update everybody.

Since I last wrote about Chase, he’s escaped, and often again. Working almost constantly, I try to offset his diggings and keep him and his little companion, Mitzvah, from escaping. I continually drag large and heavy lava rocks uphill to my house, where they are lining the dog fence’s bottom, inside and outside. Strong and determined, Chase still sometimes finds vulnerable spots to dig out.

My standalone kennel has six-foot-high fencing and stands on a concrete base. Chase is a fantastic climber, so kenneling him doesn’t ensure his containment. I’ve (again!) worked on the fencing to prevent him from gaining footholds and to heighten his challenge. Now, escapes are on pause, but Chase keeps trying to defeat obstacles.

He wants to be with me, and I love him—he’s maybe the most intelligent dog I’ve known. But I worry about his safety, from vehicles and from becoming lost. I also worry about his responses if he’s loose and a stranger enters my property, for example, to deliver a package.

Taking him to a no-kill shelter and hoping he’ll find a better home is out of the question. First, because he’s so high-maintenance, and the shelters are overcrowded and begging for foster homes.

Mary, this beat goes on, and thanks for appreciating Chase. He will turn three years old in several months, the age that suggests a dog is mature. Regardless, this guy simply is who he is, and in somewhat of a miracle, he’s still here!

Dear Friends: My rounds of “Adventures with Chase” are continuous. Diana

Toward Fall

Saturday, November 09, 2024

I have the closing shift today at my part-time job. I will feed my horses a final time this day in darkness. Nighttimes, I don’t feed them inside the barn, and I wear a headlamp while out among them. My horses are easy to get along with–infrequently spooky and running around; but dark-time feeding calls for cautious navigating among the large, hungry, and anticipating animals.

All that will become more so closer to Christmas, as the store will stay open until eleven in the evenings, and I’ll have to work on some late closing shifts. I’ll still be challenged to feed horses in darkness, but later, around midnight. And with my dogs barking.

I let my dogs be outside in their fenced area while I work with horses in darkness. I recognize routine barking, and if the barks become intense, I’m alerted of something non-routine. The barks often tell me a deer is crossing the property.

I dislike nighttime noises that might disturb my neighbors. However, my dogs help me feel safer.

I am starting to plan for transitioning to feeding my large animals on a schedule later, colder, and darker.

Dear Friends: Living on a property with large (and small) animals isn’t dull. Diana

Challenge

Monday, October 28, 2024

I’ve looked repeatedly to see where my dog Chase has repeatedly escaped from the dog area. I wasn’t watching the right spot until yesterday when he went over a seemingly inescapable fence section. I saw Chase climb the six-foot, all-wire fencing, perch atop, balance to position himself, and then leap a gulley to reach a supporting surface.

That’s how he’d been managing. Knowing eased some of my frustrations, but countering his escapes from there was challenging. That section of fence needed heightening, but it’s in a high, rocky area where my footing wasn’t stable.

“One does what one must.” “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

So, in the dusky evening, I dragged a leftover roll of fencing fabric from the barn to the needy area. While self-balancing to avoid tripping over rocky jumblings, I unrolled, laid out, and wired a foot of new height onto the original fence. My work wasn’t stable before darkness prevented completing the job.

Nonetheless, after letting the dogs outside again, I watched Chase. He stayed in their area. Later, around midnight, I let the dogs out briefly, and Chase re-entered the house with his buddies.

Today, I’ll finish that section of fence-topping and then do more fixing. I saw partially dug spots where Chase wanted to crawl under the fence. His innate sense of physics makes him a great natural engineer. If Chase learned to read and write, he’d teach much and provide income for me.

Dear Friends: He’s a never-closing chapter that resists containment, needs safety. Diana

Chasing Fate

Friday, October 25, 2024

Yesterday morning, the arrival of winter felt more real because ice was coating the waters for my chickens and horses. I got busy quickly, setting out heated buckets in the coop area and installing water heaters in the horse troughs.

High on my mind was that my dog Chase had been escaping, and very quickly. I couldn’t catch him in the act nor see how or where he was getting out. Finally, I saw and was again amazed by his strength and determination.

I watched Chase rush toward the six-foot fence. Getting close, he leaped directly at the fence fabric, his front feet grabbing high and rear feet grabbing nearly as high. He hoisted himself right over.

He accomplished that in four moves: running fast, leaping high, grabbing with front and back feet, and going over.

I put all the dogs inside my house and then worked, adding wire to heighten the escape area of the fence. Afterward, I fed the dogs before briefly allowing them outside again. Guess what? When the dogs came inside, there was no Chase.

He was invisible in the evening’s darkness; he wasn’t at the garage door where he usually appears after escaping. I checked and rechecked a sight of him. Finally, I gave up, went to bed, and left Chase in Fate’s unpredictable hands.

I worried all night.

When I let the dogs go outside before today’s first light, I saw Chase standing near the garage door. He came inside happy and no worse for wear.

This morning’s worries: Where might the fence need more height? Will more heightening help with containment? Or…?

Dear Friends: The AI-generated blog header is almost exactly Chase escaping. Diana

Doggone Dog!

Monday, October 21, 2024

I’ll finally have these couple of days off from work. The department store where I work part-time is short on employees, so I’ve worked alone in the Jewelry Department. The department has been busy with increasing Christmas shoppers, and I’ve worked long hours.

Last evening, after coming home dog-tired, I was out feeding horses when my dog Chase appeared unexpectedly. He had escaped the yard but not by digging because little Mitzvah would have slid out, too. Chase must have discovered a vulnerable spot in my mostly eight-foot-high fence.

I returned him to the fenced dog area and watched him dash toward the dark side before reappearing beside me, free. Although the evening was early, darkness prevented locating and repairing the weak spot.

Later, I let the dogs out briefly in the middle of night. When Chase didn’t re-enter the house with the others, I opened the garage door and found him waiting to enter. Early this morning, I let the dogs out again. Soon, Chase was missing–this time, not waiting at the garage door nor responding to my calls, and it was raining.

Chase showed up at the garage about a half-hour later. Right now, he’s sleeping; he won’t go outside again until I have located and addressed his escape spot.

Chase is two and one-half years old and started living with me when he was eight weeks old. My property includes a half-acre that’s fenced for my dogs. My others are happy, but Chase is another story. He’s always digging, jumping, and seeking ways to achieve freedom, not because he’s unhappy or wants to leave, but simply because it is “who he is.”

I constantly worry about keeping him safe.

Over the years, I’ve lived with many dogs, some bigger than Chase’s fifty pounds. None ever behaved in manners as strong, smart, focused, and determined as Chase. He wants to be my constant companion, 24/7, which is impossible. Luckily, he’s still safe, and I hope he will age out of escaping behaviors.

Dear Friends: Just another “Chase Story” and unlikely the last one. Diana

Caballeros

Monday, October 07, 2024

I asked my coworker Adrain for a photo of himself minus his full-face beard. He said he’s been bearded nearly forever and would look for a picture. So, I got the capture that’s today’s header, young Adrain, adorable and irresistibly huggable.

The modern Adrain sports a beard covering much of his handsome face. The beard “speaks volumes.” For one thing, he’s a salesperson–easily spotted and remembered. For another, he’s reflective and decidedly an individual.

Here’s Adrain doing one of his favorite things, fly-fishing.

He’s still loveable. If you happen into whatever space Adrain might occupy, he’ll be instantly recognizable. (Tell him, “Diana says hello.”)

Adrain’s fun photos sidetracked me. I had planned an update about my puppy Chase; he might be captured for a while.

Early yesterday, I spent much time attempting to secure his kennel door, which constant pawing can rattle open. That kennel is built to house chickens, not a strong dog. My “fix” had to be quick and easy, for I’m usually hurrying to kennel the dog and leave for work.

The solution became four strategically placed bungy cords tight against the door, keeping it still. That’s successful, at least for now. Yesterday, after getting home from work, I found Chase still kenneled. Whew!

Dear Friends: My earlier working hours force me to quit writing now. Diana