On March 25, 2015 a 3½ year old border collie named Olive was brought to my house to be fostered “only for a month or so” until a permanent home can be found for her. Well, three years later we are inseparable. Happy anniversary Olive.

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Olive loves to herd geese into the pond at the center of my townhouse condominium complex. I often let her loose as she typically comes back to me after chasing the geese into the pond. Last Monday I saw her disappear over a ridge near the edge of the pond. I walked down to get her, and she came to me when I called her, her bottom half covered with muck. Apparently, she wallowed into the muddy part of the pond (it gets that way in the early spring). I had hoped to just be able to rinse off the mud quickly and be done with it. Guess again. After rinsing the mud off she smelled awful. I ended up giving her a full bath. I am grateful that she cooperates when it’s bath time.

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Today was the day we paid a visit to the veterinarian for Olive’s annual checkup. I am happy to report that she is generally in good health except for one thing. One of her teeth seems to have gotten infected and was a bit loose. The vet recommended extracting the tooth. We have an appointment set for next Thursday. I was told to drop her off early in the morning at 7:30 and pick her up again at 4:00 p.m. No food that morning.

There was an alternative that the vet mentioned: I could take her to a canine dentist (apparently there is such a thing) for a root canal. I decided against that option.

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I am told that dogs are considered seniors after the age of 7 years. I have a hard time thinking of that lively dog as a senior, but it seems that she is not a puppy anymore. The vet did detect some early signs of arthritis. Great, we can deal with arthritis and growing old together. I found a chart to determine a dog’s equivalent age:

I notice that this chart indicates Olive won't be senior until she turns nine.

From the chart, Olive would be the equivalent of a human at 47 when she turns seven in August. That hardly seems old to me. She won’t catch up to me until she is about 11, at which point I will be 67. That’s a bit scary.

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I will be hosting an Easter dinner for family members Sunday. My cousin Nancy will be bringing her new adopted dog Harvey along. In the past others have brought their dogs to my house and there has been little problem. Olive was mostly a gracious hostess when her brother Gilly visited, had no problem when my friends Kathryn and Mark brought their corgi Archie, and generally seems ok with other dogs visiting. I am hopeful that she will be just as well behaved around her new “cousin”.

Christmas Border Collie

As some of you know, my dad passed away on November 24, 2017, the day after Thanksgiving. It was quite a shock in that he had been in excellent health almost to the day he died. The funeral and reception were held the following Thursday, with the burial on Friday at the family plot at the Woodside cemetery in Westminster, Massachusetts. For that reason our blog is a bit late this month, and this entry will be short.

Olive seemed to know that something was amiss. She was very attentive to me and always there with border collie kisses and affection.

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New research has revealed an astounding bit of biblical history:

Border collies existed back more than two thousand years ago, and were used by shepherds in the Middle East to help with the sheep. As the gospels tell us, shepherds watching over their flocks came to the manger on that first Christmas night. Well, now we have proof that those shepherds had border collies with them and that at least one of those border collies was present at the birth of Jesus.

Well, how else were the shepherds going to manage all of those sheep?

With that bit of Christmas baloney, Olive and I wish all a happy holiday and a prosperous new year.

Injured Dog/Cambridge

While playing Frisbee with Olive less than two weeks ago on Saturday I heard her yelp, then saw that there was bleeding around her dew claw. The injury turned out to be more than something a groomer could correct by clipping her nail, so I took her to the veterinarian. Fortunately the office was still open and the vet was willing to take her on a moment’s notice. The vet sedated Olive and took care of the claw while I waited nervously in the waiting room.

After what seemed to me like a long time, though it was probably less than fifteen minutes, I was told that Olive was coming to and would be out shortly. A minute later she staggered out with a bandaged leg. I paid the charges, then led Olive out to my car. She staggered in a daze, managed to hop into the car, and promptly fell to sleep. When we got home she staggered again into the house like someone who had too much to drink. The second she hit the living room rug, she dropped to the floor and was sound asleep. An hour later she was raring to go again, and it seemed that the bandage wasn’t bothering her a bit. As per the vet’s instruction, I left the bandage on for three days. When I took it off Olive was behaving as if nothing had happened. So a happy ending there.

How humiliating!

There was a bit more to the story, however. While Olive was sedated the vet did a cursory check on her and noticed a growth in her mouth. With my consent a biopsy was taken and sent to the lab. The following Wednesday I finally got the results: the growth was benign, probably caused by a gum irritation. The vet suggested I brush her teeth regularly to remove the source of irritation. Easier said than done, I thought. As it happened, I had to leave for a five day trip to England, so I asked the people at Candlewick kennels to give her daily brushings while I was away.

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My cousin’s daughter, Lisa, attends Cambridge University in England, about a two hour drive from London. Cambridge dates back to ancient times and has a lot of history to it. Some buildings date back to the 1200s. With a population in the neighborhood of 120,000 people it’s not huge like London is; there is, however, quite a bit to see there including some first rate museums and, of course, the university itself with its historic buildings. A list of distinguished alumni reads like a who’s who of world history.

Lisa’s graduation ceremony took place in the historic 1730 senate house building, normally not open to the public. Family and friends like myself had to present tickets to get in to see the commencement. The four of us (Lisa’s parents, her aunt, and myself) were seated in a gallery above the hall where the graduates were given their diplomas.

Lisa after the ceremony with her parents.

The following day I took a walking tour of the university area, then met up with the rest of the family for a punting tour down the river. Punts are narrow flat bottom boats, similar to the gondolas of Venice though a bit more stable without gondoliers singing “Oh Solo Mio” off key. Our punter (as the boat operator was called) was knowledgeable and gave us a nice tour as we sailed up and down the Cam River. Many of the most impressive buildings are along the river.

On the punt; Lisa with her friend Chris and her dad.

One photo I wish I had taken: while walking down a busy street I spotted a border collie that looked similar to Olive. His owners and I agreed that border collies are great dogs despite being a lot of work. When I petted the dog he put his paw on my shoe as if to say he accepted me as a friend. I guess Border Collie is an international language. I’m privileged to have learned to speak it.

Bless the Dogs/A Border Collie Treasure

In late September I headed up to the Eastern States Exposition (locally called the “Big E) which is essentially a state fair for the six New England states held in Springfield, Massachusetts. Most New England states abandoned their own state fairs some time ago. Connecticut ceased having its state fairs in Danbury back in 1981. The old state fair grounds are now a large indoor shopping mall. At least they pay some homage to the old state fair with some nostalgic photos near the food court. Aside from that there are no remnants of the old fair save in the memories of old fogies like me.

Much of what is at the Big E is the same tacky tchotchke that one finds at most state or county level fairs. There is, however, an avenue of state pavilions. Each of the six states has a building made to resemble their statehouses. Inside the building are booths filled by state businesses and crafters. The craft booths are mostly a step above what one finds through most of the fair. The Vermont pavilion, for example, features maple syrup and maple candy. Of particular interest to me is a booth staffed by some relatives who own a specialty chocolate shop in the Vermont town of Bennington. I do not think I am particularly biased in saying that the chocolate they sell is out of this world. Other booths sell woodcraft, pottery, and other crafts that are a cut above.

Not far from the avenue of states is a section of historic buildings labeled “Storrowtown”. During the fair a number of craft booths are there as well, also selling upscale crafts. It was there that I spotted a porcelain sculpture of a border collie that I just had to buy.

The sculpture opens up as shown on the right into a small storage compartment. When I bought the item I discovered an additional surprise: a small pendant inside.

I have an idea where to display the main sculpture, but am unsure what to do with the pendant. Perhaps a Holiday gift to some border collie person? Hmmmmmm…….

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On October 7, in honor of Saint Francis of Assissi, the Catholic church in Glastonbury held a blessing of animals. This was the first time I know of that such a service was held. Could it be because our new pastor is a dog owner himself (with two dogs, Harry and Oliver)?  I of course had to bring Olive. I would like to say she was well behaved during the service; that would be a bit of an exaggeration. She was friendly to other dogs, but barked as the pastor was giving the blessing and seemed to want to run around and socialize with the other dogs.

I had some difficulty handling both Olive and my camera. On the left is a general shot of some of the dogs there to be blessed. On the right was the best photo I could take of Olive while being blessed. Well, this was her first visit to church. Does it make Olive a Catholic dog?

New Kitchen/Sofa Beds

It has been a while since the last entry. Not because nothing of interest happened during that time; because things were topsy-turvy with the kitchen renovations. Olive wasn’t sure what to make of the boxes of cookware and other kitchen items crowding up the living room taking up her favorite napping spots. Even her napping spot in the dining room was unavailable as the work crew took over the dining room as a staging area and storage area for building materials. She bore her burden well, doing most of her napping upstairs and joining me at a makeshift dining area on a table set up in the living room during meals. I could detect some relief when I was finally able to start moving items back into the new cabinets.

A few weeks later my friend Mark, an excellent house painter, came down from Massachusetts to finish off the job (the kitchen renovation contractor does not do painting). Olive had met Mark several times and was good as gold for him, staying out of his way while he painted. I had to comment that Olive behaved better for Mark than she usually does for me!

 

Below for comparison are photos of the kitchen before any work started, after the old kitchen was gutted, after the renovation work was done but before painting, and after the painting was done and things were finally back to normal.

 

The old kitchen

 

 

 

 

 

 

After demolition

 

 

Before painting

After painting

 

I am sure that someone will comment “but the new kitchen looks no different from the old kitchen”. True that there was little that could be done with the kitchen layout, so that mostly remains the same. The new counters are made of Corian, a hard plastic that looks just like polished stone but will absorb some shock should a glass or whatever be dropped on it. The new floor is made of nylon but resembles stone tiles. The cabinets are a lighter shade of oak, and the darker tile behind the stove and sink are new. I think I am going to like cooking with my  new gas stove, though it takes a bit of getting used to. The biggest change may be that my microwave oven (with a task light and ventilation fan) is now over the stove, which gives me more storage space in my pantry where my old microwave oven was.

Olive was a bit apprehensive of the new surfaces and appliances at first, but seems to have grown accustomed to the new look and smell. In any case, she seems to be happy to be back to normal.

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Some 25 years ago I bought a Jennifer Convertible sofa bed for guests. It was about ten years later that someone pointed out to me that a support bar poked up through the mattress right where a sleeper’s upper back was. I was flabbergasted that I hadn’t noticed that when I bought the bed, but soon discovered that virtually all sofa beds are made that way these days. My parents bought a sofa bed from Sears & Roebuck back around 1968 that fully supported a thick mattress on springs and was very comfortable. To my dismay, no one seems to make such beds anymore.

Finally I found a sofa bed at a furniture store near me that, at least, does not have a bar poking through the mattress. The mattress is a bit on the firm side, but the bed is well made and reasonably comfortable. It cost considerably more than I had expected to spend for a new sofa bed, though I was not about to buy a new one with the same problems as the old one. The new sofa bed is set to be delivered this coming week. I hope that Olive doesn't mind: she likes to sleep in front of the old sofa bed.

I emailed some of my friends who have complained about the old one, announcing that I was finally getting a new, more comfortable one. One friend emailed back

 

 

 

I responded “was the old sofa bed really that bad?” To which the same person responded

Rails to Whales Tales

I have long been active in an organization called the Cetacean Society International, a group dedicated to the study and protection of whales. As it happened, a celebrated landscape photographer named Ken Roberts had a side hobby of photographing steam trains. When Mr. Roberts died some eighteen months ago his family donated several hundred prints of his train photographs to the Society. A project was initiated that was called “Rails to Whales”, essentially selling the prints at very reasonable prices to raise money to help protect whales.

The nearby town of Manchester held a one day art festival recently, with a large number of artists there selling their work, at which a booth space was donated to the Society to sell our rail photos. I spent the day working at the booth, and brought Olive with me. Olive for the day served as the unofficial mascot for the society. Many of the people at the art show came by and watched Olive demonstrate her skill at catching her ball. We got many comments on how clever, well behaved, beautiful, and sweet she was. Well, of course.

It didn’t take Olive very long to settle into the pulse of the festival. I set a bowl of water for her under our canopy tent where we had the rail photos exhibited. She ignored a blanket that another Society member set down for her to lay on, but found a soft grassy spot next to the water bowl where she would go when she had enough of catching the ball.

Shortly after noon I decided to take her home, then went back to finish up the day. We sold a reasonable number of photos and got some people interested in helping to save whales and perhaps join our society, so it was a good day.

Our next Cetacean Society newsletter will include a story about the festival, with this photo of Olive and myself at the booth.

Olive and I at the Manchester art show

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One of my neighbors is a kind and wonderful dog-loving lady named Jen. Recently Jen fostered a sweet lab/pointer mix named Cal that had been abused. Olive and Cal seemed to get along quite well. Unfortunately Jen is in a situation where she could not keep Cal permanently, but did what she could to see that Cal got to a good home. She even took a short video of Cal and Olive to show potential adopters that Cal can get along with other dogs. The story has a happy ending in that an animal rescue group found a loving family to adopt Cal. The last report is that Cal was very happy and got along splendidly with the family’s other dog, Hercules. Jen was sent a photo of Cal and Hercules curled up together.

Nevertheless, shortly after the new family took Cal away, Jen was feeling very depressed and missed Cal. Olive and I came by at that point. Well, Olive seemed to know right away that Jen needed some doggie affection. She went right up to Jen and gave her a kiss. That took Jen by surprise, but she gave Olive a hug right back. Somehow dogs just know.

I had hoped to post the video of Olive and Cal, but Jen has not sent it as yet. Perhaps in the future.

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Olive seems to love small children. One family has a toddler who always puts on a big grin when he sees Olive. The other afternoon while walking we came across the family walking with an inexpensive ball. I thought the ball would be too big for Olive, but she surprised me by picking the ball up. Unfortunately, in doing so she put a hole in the ball and it deflated. The parents took it in stride and gave the ball to Olive. In fact, that is the ball we had at the art show. Some photos the family took are below.

 

Anxiously awaiting the blue ball

"That ball is mine now!"

 

Portrait of a Border Collie

As of late there seems to be a fad consisting of art studios for amateurs such as the chain “Muse” that feature one-shot painting classes reminiscent of what was done in grammar school fifty years ago: “class, draw the sky (everyone colors the top half of their paper blue) now draw the grass (everyone colors the bottom of their paper green) now draw Little Red Riding Hood (everyone draws Little Red Riding Hood, facing the same way, wearing the same dress, etc. etc.)”. The main difference between these new classes and what I did fifty+ years ago is that now we get to buy an overpriced glass of wine to drink during class. Actually, back in Sister Delores’ fourth grade art class was when I really could have used the wine, but I digress.

The local “Muse” franchise offered a “draw your pet” night. I cannot draw or paint to save my own life (thanks, Sister Delores); after some cajoling, however, my sister talked me into going with her. She would paint her daughter’s schnauzer while I would attempt to paint Olive.  My sister made the arrangements, reserving two spots and submitting photos of the two dogs.

Upon arriving at the studio, we were invited to get wine at the bar (naturally) and find our canvases. Someone had lightly sketched some pencil guidelines for each of the pets on the canvases. Our first task was to choose a background color (since we were each painting our own pets, there was more room for individuality than the “Little Red Riding Hood” format). I had in mind a mint green close to what my living room is painted; when I mixed up the colors that an instructor suggested I got a bluish color that I thought was acceptable even if not what I had envisioned. The next step was to paint the area outside the penciled outline on the canvas.

Next we were given some guidelines on how to paint the eyes and nose. By some fortunate accident my eyes came out fairly well using brown and black paint with a bit of mixing. The paints were water-soluble acrylics that were reasonably easy to mix and paint over, the latter being a godsend for me. I had less success with the nose, though with some repainting and blending I got mine to look something like a dog’s nose.

One of the harder parts of painting is mixing the colors right. Since Olive is all black and white I had an easier time with that than most of the other participants. A few different shades of grey so as to not look too cartoony, otherwise I used mostly pure black and pure white. By this time, to my surprise, my work actually started to somewhat resemble a border collie. At an instructor’s suggestion I mixed a little of a mustard colored paint with white to create a bit of shading so that Olive’s chest wouldn’t look pure white.

Below are the painting and the photograph that the painting is theoretically made from. Hardly worthy of Leonardo da Vinci or any other of the great renaissance masters, but not as embarrassing as I had feared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Olive and I are still attending the “disk dog” classes. One basic move for the dog is that the dog should chase after one disk that I throw (perhaps a yellow one) then after catching (or missing) it I should be able to thrown a different disk (say the blue one) and Olive would immediately chase the blue one. Olive seems to focus on one disk until I physically pick it up. If I throw the yellow disk, she will stay focused on that yellow disk and ignore the blue one. Once I pick up the yellow disk, I can then throw either one and she will chase it. I tried standing on the yellow disk and throwing the blue one, but Olive stubbornly refuses to take her eyes off the yellow disk until I pick it up with my hands.

The instructor watched me work with Olive a bit, trying to get her to focus on whichever disk I threw, then told me that Olive has ME trained to play the game HER way. Thinking about it, that is likely true. She likes to be the one who decides where I have to go to pick up the disk. She will drop the yellow one and wait for me to pick it up; game is not over until I pick up the yellow disk where SHE dropped it.

The instructor suggested that I convey to Olive that we are playing a new game. That means me ignoring the yellow disk until she picks up the blue one and vice versa. I have been working on that. Olive can be stubborn, but I think we are making some progress. I praise her when she finally gives in and goes for the “live” disk. She still wants to steer me back to playing the old game. It may take a while.