Dishonest people

I trust people.  I trust them to tell me the truth and be honest.  Sometimes, that comes back and bites me on the backside.  But before I get on my soapbox and have a little rant, I need to tell you about Tesla.

Tesla is surely the smartest dog I have ever had.  At less than three months she seems to be completely house broken.  She knows sit.  She kind of knows stay.  She knows the kitchen is off limits (a very important quality in a dog that might easily be able to pick and choose what she wants off the counter).  She has learned (but has a little trouble following through) that chickens are not for chasing and she seems to take complete delight in 'helping' me with the big animals.  She is a joy and is quickly becoming a fixture in this house.

Now I shall let the rant begin.

When I was looking for a new dog I SPECIFICALLY looked for Great Dane or Great Dane mix.  I SPECIFICALLY looked at rescue organisations because I thought they were the best choice and had the best interest of the dog in mind.  When I found Tesla she was listed as a Great Dane, Shepherd/Lab mix.  When I talked to the rescue people I was told a tale of how Tesla and her siblings were surrendered at the age of 5 weeks.  I was told that Tesla's Mom was a Great Dane and her dad was a German Shepherd/Lab mix.  I was told these things as fact.  We paid a premium adoption fee because of this very desirable mix of breeds.

Tesla came to us with a case of kennel cough that was being treated with antibiotics.  When the run of antibiotics was over she developed a UTI and we took her to the vet.  The vet, naturally, wanted to know all the facts about her as well as the type of antibiotic she was on.  Belatedly, we dug through the stack of paperwork given to us at the time of her adoption and discovered that Tesla was not surrendered.  She was a stray picked up off the streets somewhere in California.  We discovered that really no one had any idea what breed of dog she was and the rescue group in California thought she might be a shepherd/lab mix.  Or might not.  It was purely speculation.

The California group sent Tesla and her siblings to Tacoma where they thought she might, maybe, look like she was part Great Dane.  Maybe.  Then again, maybe not.  But Great Dane fetches a higher adoption fee. They completely fabricated the tale of surrendering and parent breeds.  Not only that, but it took over 24 hours for the Tacoma rescue group to get back to me with the antibiotic information.  My dog was peeing blood and they didn't think it was a priority.  I shall report them to the Better Business Bureau and hope future dog-seeking people are smarter than we were and will check out the rescue group before doing business.

I feel quite taken.  I feel very disappointed.  I feel foolish and embarrassed.  I have wanted a Great Dane for many years and have patiently waited until circumstances were right for such a commitment.  Great Dane or not, Tesla is certainly going to be a large dog and I'm not sure I want two giant dogs at once.

I guess all I can do is wait and see what Tesla grows into. If she turns out to be pit-bull or chihuahua it doesn't really matter (although I would never knowingly choose either of those breeds, fine breeds though they are).  Worse case scenario I will wait another 15 years or so to try again to fulfill my Great Dane dreams.

We Can!

I have been taking an on-line food preservation course.  I'm not done yet, but I have completed enough of it that I am confident there is little chance I will kill us with botulism or other food born illness created by improper canning.  A fear that has kept me from doing any canning in the past.

I will finish the course because I covet the virtual certificate they will e-mail upon completion.

But canning season is NOW and I have no time to finish studying.

Must.  Can.  Now.

Tomatoes came ripe, the rain was forecast and there was no time to waste.  Peter picked them and turned them into sauce and I followed up with the canning following proper procedures.

Some of the tomatoes were turned into sun dried morsels and packed into garlic infused olive oil.

Cucumbers were turned into pickles.

The grapes were another joint project.  Although I started, Peter finished up with the picking, plucking, & washing.

Chardonnay grapes were turned into Chardonnay grape jelly.
Pinot Noir grapes were turned into Pinot Noir jelly.
Cabernet Sauvignon grapes were turned into Cabernet Sauvignon jelly.
Apples were turned into Apple Butter.

We have a field of pumpkin, a patch of butter nut squash, some acorn squash and green peppers still to process and lots more jelly to make.

I am thinking that there has to be a market for wine grape jellies.  Wouldn't you love to get a gift of Chardonnay jelly?  Or Pinot Grigio Jam?  I have been wanting to have a booth at the local farmers market.  The market starts in June but very few vegetables are ready by then.  Jelly should sell well, later in the season I could sell the usual garden fair like potatoes, onions and zucchini - plus maybe hostas and felted bags, fiber and hand spun yarn.  I have ideas.  Lots of them.  One day one of them will actually pay off.

In the mean time, we will be feasting on summer bounty all winter long.  yummmy!

Sparky & Tesla

Several months ago my very portly couch-potato dog stopped eating regularly.  We took her to the vet and got a diagnosis of an inoperable cancerous mass in her throat.  Prognosis: terminal.

We decided to help her live out her days as enjoyable as possible.  At first her good days way outnumbered her bad days.  Then they started to even out.  Eventually the bad days outnumbered the good days.

On her good days she would insist on traipsing out to the field with us.  If we wanted to leave her in the house we would literally have to sneak out.  We would feed her anything she would eat.  Ice cream, hot dogs, scrambled eggs with cheese, meat broth and she would often eat it with gusto. On her bad days she would refuse to eat anything and we were sure she would quit breathing any minute - and in fact we checked her often throughout the night and day.

Eventually there were no good days. Breathing became difficult and eating was almost impossible  She became so thin and weak she could not stand on the vinyl floor.  She no longer wanted to go to the field.  We knew the end was near but we were afraid she would hurt herself in the mean time.  A decision had to be made.  And with aching hearts we made it.  We decided that the following Monday we would contact the vet and "take care of things."

On Sunday we took Sparky for a drive in the country.  We took her to the beach were she watched seagulls and visited with people.  We tried to get her to eat her past favorite foods with no luck. She was done.  I like to think it was her way of confirming we had made the right decision.

Sparky was not a noisy dog.  She was quite and calm.  She was just always "there."  Despite that, the house became too quiet.  Her absence was a powerful thing.  The rhythm of our home had been broken.

Sparky was not an alpha dog.  The cats bossed her around, the chickens could make her beat a hasty retreat.  I had long wanted to get a second dog (specifically a Great Dane) but I could not do that to Sparky.  I could not put her in a position where she would fall from her shaky position as top dog in this household.

With the unwelcome silence around our house, and extra time on my hands since I wasn't busy making custom omelets and fresh broth, I started to poke around on dog rescue sites.

I recognized that I should clearly have my head examined.  Peter was no help really.  He seemed to almost encourage me in this new pasttime.

I totally believe in rescue as a way to acquire a new pet.  Puppy mills are bad.  I wanted a Great Dane.  I have wanted one for many years.  But a Great Dane Mix might be best.  I was even open to adult dogs, however, the breed I was interested in are short lived.  Less than 10 years usually and for every year my future pet might be, would be a year I would not have with them.  Plus, I needed a dog that could learn to live with cats and chickens and ducks and goats and alpaca and such.  So many I saw listed on the rescue sites said things like "doesn't get along with cats"  or "needs a home without other dogs" and such.  The younger the better thought I.  The chances of finding something so specific to my needs and wants was so slim, I felt continuing to look would be harmless dreaming regarding future pets.

Thursday night I stumbled upon a litter of 4 Great Dane mix pups that had been surrendered to a shelter in Tacoma at the very horrible age of 5 weeks.  They were now 8 weeks old and ready to be adopted.

Maybe it was fate.  The pups names were Darlene, Viktoria, Bethany and Frank.  I contacted the site.  Bethany and Frank were already adopted.  If I got my application in right away they could put a hold on the other two pups so I could come and meet them.  A quick decision was required.  Aaaack. It was too soon.  Or was it?  The pups were mostly Great Dane mixed with a little German Shepherd and a little Labrador.  Two excellent additions to an already great breed of dog.

I filled out an application and sent it in.  Friday afternoon I found out our application was approved but that Viktoria was now adopted out.  Darlene was still there.  Peter and I raced to Tacoma through Friday night traffic in Seattle and made it there by 7:50, beating the 8:00 cut-off with 10 minutes to spare.  On the way there we discussed names since we agreed that Darlene was not a name that we preferred and at 8 weeks old, we could certainly change it.  We narrowed our favorites to Tempo, Greta or Tyv.

Darlene was perfect.  She almost came unglued at the seams.  She wiggled this way and that way, she went every which way at once.  I think I did the same thing.  Peter got a boyish grin on his face and was immediately smitten as well.

It was meant to be.

We eventually chose the name Tesla - as she is a live wire and such a ball of energy.  Plus she has a white blazed "T" across her shoulders.. a T name was absolutely required.

I still feel a little odd about how quickly we moved Tesla in but it was just meant to be.  I still miss Sparky.  there will never be another Sparky.  She was something else.