Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Make new friends but keep the old

I have had some occasion to think on all types of friendships recently and realize the value of them all.

Silver
Recent friendships have sprung up with a couple of colleague at work. I don't know if it’s because I am finally settling in here after 7 years, or if the recent enlargement of our department has brought us "old-timers "together – whatever it is, I do appreciate both of them in my life. We are very different, and have worked together for years without managing to form a bond, but a few months ago, we started doing things outside of work and boiiiiing- friendships formed. The appeal of a new friendship is the same as the appeal of any new relationship - getting new information about people and connecting. The surprising thing I am noticing is finding out how much we have in common. And that gut-laughs can happen with new friends as well as old.

Gold
There is absolutely nothing like a friend who shares old memories, though, whether the memories are 10, 15, 20 or even 30 years old. Old memories, especially if you can get a good gut-laugh out of them, are essential for living life.

Old friends have seen you in many lights and have gone through trials and tribulations with you (as you have with them) and have seen you at your best - and at your worst - and STILL love you. I am incredibly lucky to be blessed with a few old friends who share a wacky sense of humor, a sense of irony about life, a sense of caring, a love of animals (or not) or all of the above.

One of the great things about life is that solid new friends become old friends, so forming friendships throughout your life means that you will always have someone to share memories with.

Monday, May 29, 2006

Move on-there's nothing to see here....

I always have this problem when I have a three day weekend - rare at my job up here in the woods - the third day can never be planned. I allow myself to layabout watching movies and being with the dogs on the porch or in the water. Today is no different, but by the time I woke up it was already 85 on my porch temperature gauge and my neighbor was mowing the lawn with his tee shirt wrapped around his head, doo-rag style. I just scooted out in my pajamas and grabbed the dog food and then came back into my nice, air conditioned house. That's where I was to spend the entire day - in denial of the hot summer coming. Oh well, at least I didn't have to see any nasty terr--uh--I mean tourists today - that's probably how this holiday isolation started.

Oh, I did watch "Transamerica" and "Shopgirl" this weekend. "Shopgirl" was a beautifully filmed movie, but it somehow disturbed me - maybe because the story of the older man/younger woman (depressed woman I should say) reminded me of my past.
"Transamerica" was simply a good movie. Felicity Huffman was excellent as a transgender about to take that final step when s/he hears from the 17-year-old son he conceived (but never knew about) and has to go across the country to bail him out of jail. S/he then takes him on a road trip across the country back home without revealing to his son who s/he is. It is not a movie with an agenda, it is not campy - it is very funny.

I did take a nice nap wherein I had a dream that I was writing a story starting out, "Imagine if you were...." but then I forgot the rest.

I guess I want to write here regularly because it is good practice, but I don't always have things to write about - especially on days when I don't interact with others - be they man or beast.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

All Things Wild and Wonderful

Sometimes it's hard to believe that so much can transpire in so little time. I notice this when I travel abroad, when I start a new job, and recently, each time I volunteer at the NWC.

Teach your children well
Mark Naniot, the husband of someone I consider a good friend, is the rehab director for the NWC. We had newbie interns in today - mostly students who are going to be attending vet school at some time in the future and need this to round out their education before they apply. Therefore Mark was at his teaching finest, and I reaped the benefits because when you are in the presence of a good teacher, and you ask a question, no matter if you're an intern, a volunteer, or your wife's friend cum volunteer, you get a great answer. Today I learned:
-That even though a turkey vulture has a wingspan of 5 feet, it only has a weight of about 4-5 lbs
-That sometimes the most humane way to deal with an injury of the gorgeous symbol of our nation is to put it out of its misery by putting it to sleep
-That calling a baby otter to you is done by making a noise in the middle of your mouth blowing gently outward with your lips closed and not by imitating the beginning of the song "Mr Sandman"
-That when Mark came to the center it was dilapidated and now it is a beautiful, clean facility that saves thousands of wild animals every year.

The Good...

Here comes Peter cottontail

Okay,there is nothing as cute as a warren of baby rabbits. And there is nothing as sad as 31 baby rabbits being brought in by the public because their "mothers abandoned them." Actually,mama rabbits often leave their warrens in search of food, or if they are scared - like by a lawnmower perhaps. And they often come back to take care of their young at night or when it's quiet -unless someone has removed them from the area, at which time they become confused and possibly sad (allow me to anthropomorphize here).Here's a great article on what to do when you find "abandoned" bunnies from the premier lagomorph site, www.rabbit.org. It is the site I use for all things rabbit in my work.
I guess I should be happy that the public is bringing these creatures in rather than trying to domesticate them or getting back at their rivals ala "Fatal Attraction"
Anyway, my shift this week started by watching the new interns feed these 31 baby bunnies by putting an unbelievably tiny feeding tube in their stomachs and squeezing in the liquid nutrition. It is a long, delicate process that takes place every hour all day.

The Bad...
On the wings of eagles

A female bald eagle was brought in swaddled in a shroud of white sheeting in a wooden crate. The interns and I carefully watched as Mark carefully took it out of the crate, ensuring that the sheet stayed over her head. This serves two purposes: to make sure the bird is not frightened, and to protect the rescuer from the strong beak. Mark carefully pulled back the sheet as one intern held the strong talons in yellow leather work gloves. As the sheet was pulled back, the room was filled with the stench of rot. As Mark gently pulled each wing to its full spread, we all leaned forward to see the injury: the feathers under her left wing was damp and a tendon on the top portion was being eaten away by maggots (or as my friend Renee likes to call them, "“rice with legs"). This was a death sentence for the raptor. Because the DNR does not allow rehabilitators to amputate eagles wings below the elbow, Mark had to make the decision to euthanize her. I don'’t know if it was because it was so close to my own dog'’s euthanization, or just because I don'’t particularly like seeing beautiful creatures take their last breath, but I teared up and had to go into the other room for a bit. I forced myself to go back to see the act though- I would have to get used to scenes like this if I was going to survive this work. Unexpectedly, I got so interested in the explanation of what probably happened (an inter-eagle fight?), how we could tell how old the injury was by the age of the maggots (just like C.S.I.!),and feeling the talons and beak of these magnificent creatures for the first time -that I forgot to be upset.

And the Snuggly...
There otter be a law
When I heard there was an otter in the house, I knew I had to find a way to at least observe it, since otters are my absolute favorite wild animals and have been since I was a child. I got to help exercise her, since, although she was healthy, she was not old enough to swim yet. Swimming is the major activity of river otters.

Exercise consisted of letting this foot-long, sleek, button-nosed, stuffed animal lookalike follow you - until she got interested in someone else and followed them. For some reason, she loved curling around my feet and rooting her wet nose under the leg of my sweat pants, making baby purring noises in her throat. Of course I was in love immediately. I learned that she was found as a nearly newborn, that otters cannot swim until they are 12 weeks old (she is 8 weeks old this week), and that she will be released in August, when she will be old enough and strong enough to survive on her own over the winter and find a mate next spring.

After helping with some housekeeping duties, I found I was exhausted at the end of my shift. It was a good exhausted though and I still feel the pleasure of doing for others.

When I got home, the dogs were suspicious. They always know when have been around other animals and when I come back they press their noses on my pants and shoes for a number of minutes,then look at me and snort. It's pretty funny.

Friday, May 26, 2006

Fog Dog White Wonder

The Morning Fog
It's a shame that I don't have the time, during the workday morning rush, to go down to the lake with my cup of coffee and watch the animals as they appear and disappear through the fog

The Morning Dog
I have awoken every morning recently to the fog my big Newf Baci breathes in my face because I am sleeping "much too late"


White tail wonder
I have to remember to be careful on my curvy road, even when I am in a hurry to get to work, because the deer are out munching. I frightened one on the side of the road as my big toaster came around the corner and he and his buddy ran off in tandem – white tail at the same height, legs and leaps matching up. It was indeed a wonder.

White Collar Wonder
After a year in which I was convinced I would be "let go" because the job I had been half doing because I was the only one there that could do it was taken over by someone who was hired to do it and does it much better than I could (whew - long sentence!)I got a nice raise. It is because I am seen as a "go-to" person in the department now. I guess that is a good name for someone who knows a lot about the company and how it works and what the boss wants. And that people trust. I feel pretty good about it, although I am just now getting used to being old enough to have younger colleagues take what I say as the "truth". I still feel 19 and shocked that people actually listen to me and look up to me.

Hm

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Blink Once...

Although the town I live in is not so small as to be a "blink once and you miss it" sort of place, it does retain that small town feel -– until the summer season (already starting) when the TOURISTS/summer people start showing up. While this doesn't exactly taint the charm that small town life has for me - until Labor Day - it definitely changes things.

Okay, I know the tourists make it possible for us to get some amenities up in our (literally) "neck of the woods". But, we do pay with high prices for groceries and gas, and not being able to go into town Friday through Sunday gets to be a drag.

Siiiiiiigh.....Oh well, I can forget about that from September to May, just like I have already forgotten the previous 6 months of snow!


That's the way I like it,uh-huh-uh-huh

Speaking of blinking, (besides the most excellent non-fiction book about first impressions called "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell who once wrote me a thank you note for admiring his books, emailed at 3 am!), there is a tradition on the highway I travel to and from work that involved blinking lights (no gang-initiations up here, so no worries!. And it never hinges on TOURIST SEASON.

This is how it works:
If someone blinks his/her lights at you from the opposite direction, he/she is either warning you of a police car lying in wait for speeders (speed limit 55- I do 64 and people still pass me!) or a deer has run across the road (meaning there are more to follow, since deer usually travel in packs -actually called a "herd" or a "mob" ) or a deer is about to cross the road. By the same token, if you see a cop or a deer situation, it is polite to blink at oncoming traffic to warn them. I must admit that it IS amusing to see: A. People who know what it is all about immediately put on their brake lights and B. People who don't know what it is about pulling over to the side of the road to see if they have a bulb out or are getting a flat tire. Doesn't take much to amuse me, I must admit!

Other things I like about small towns:

(Let's see if I can remember what is unique after 7 years here!)
1. 6 car rush hours
2. Walking on a beautiful trail with my dog and not seeing a soul
3. The lady at the post office who knows my name (and how much I buy on eBay!)
4. Leaving my doors open when I'm gone (I don't ,but I CAN)
5. Plumber,septic service,lawn service:"Oh you don't have to pay now- just send a check whenever"
6. Above and beyond: In 1999, I had to vote absentee on the presidential ballot, so I called the City Clerk to see when I could vote, since I work 30 miles away. She actually said, "Ooohhh,I can wait here until you get off of work." and when I said I may not be there until 6, she said, "Welllll,why don't you come in on Saturday? I can come in then if you want." Having always lived in cities and lived here less than a year, I was shocked,but I will never forget that kindness.
7. Just happened today: I was listening to WXPR, our NPR classic radio station when the host said the engineer, Elmer Getsch, was up "in the tower" and that the radio signal would be a little weaker while he worked on it. "But he'll be down in plenty of time to host his noon show..." the morning host said. Only in the Northwoods.

Up the Country
It's twilight; the loons and the peepers are calling each other;it stormed earlier and the woods and the lake are colored with crayolas from the 64-color box of my childhood. The grass and the trees on the lake are colored that green called "spring green": half yellow,half green. Contrasting that are the crowns of the trees across the lake,which are reflecting the sinking sun and blazing with the colors I would use in autumn coloring book pictures: Burnt Sienna and Indian Red and Goldenrod. The crabapple blossoms are magenta - bursting out of the woods with neon brightness; the lilacs are just beginning to flower with light,well, lilac.

And the scene is gone now - in the blink of an eye, it seems.

Oh, before I forget, it was a Great Egret and not a Snowy Egret I saw the other day dining at my waterfront sashimi restaurant. Bad hair day for that Snowy Egret in the link, by the way!

Monday, May 22, 2006

All Things Bright and Beautiful

All day the air has been alive with tiny pieces of white cotton. I have never seen so many at once and for so many hours at a time, so I went out and caught a couple as they sped by. One had a seed attached, the other didn't. I'm sure these are simply dandelion seeds and not the romantic vision I have of all flowers at once needing to pollinate to mark the springtime. But, I know that romance must be in the air, since I saw a confused white moth approach one of these fluffs thinking it was another of his species. Or so I imagined at least.

The air has got that slightly astringent pine scent that signals summer is coming – even though it is still in the 30s at night. The air up here is very special. Whenever I come back from the Cities or another trip outside the area, and I am about 30 miles from home, I open the car windows wide and drink in that smell. I imagine it is clearing out the 43 years of urban living that my lungs have suffered.

It's not hard to imagine why the leaders of organized crime came up here from Chicago in the 1920s and 30s to "get away from it all." Little humidity in the summer, vast areas where you might not see a human for hours (probably weeks back then), healthy air, few "coppers".... In fact, not too far from here in Manitowish Waters is Little Bohemia, a resort (still open) where John Dillinger and his gang had a shootout with the FBI, which he escaped from, only to be killed at the Biograph Theater in Chicago less than three months later. Here is an article about Dillinger and the Little Bohemia shootout.

Ironically, Little Bohemia is where I first smelled that odor that I would associate with home. There is where Joyce Ryan held her "Water Workshop Weekend," a water rescue training Newfoundlandands, where in 1994, at less than 8 months of age, my dog Bozeman pulled a boat in with me in it (no mean feat!).

All Creatures...
A snowy egret just landed in the water in front of me and is now dining at my nice waterfront restaurant, where there is a variety of fish on the menu.

I guess the great-smelling air isn't the only thing that keeps me here.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

Where the Wild Things Are

1/2 a rat is better than none
"The only problem some volunteers have is they might have to cut a rat in half," Molly told me on the phone a couple of weeks ago when I interviewed to be volunteer at the Northwoods Wildlife Center. Animal care volunteers feed the permanent residents, mostly raptors and reptiles that cannot be released into the wild.
"Uh, okay..." I said, not letting on how horrified I really was.
We chatted about volunteer's responsibilites for a few more minutes and then she asked if I had any questions before I came in to train.
"Just one," I said, steeling myself for the disappointment I would feel when she laughed hysterically at my wimpiness and hung up, crossing me immediately off the volunteer list,
"Uh, those rats we have to cut in half – they're not alive, are they? 'Cause that would be one thing I might have a problem with..."
Silence on the other end of the line and then stifled laughter, "No, they're frozen. I can't think of a situation where we would have to cut a live rat in half." she finally said.

I learned today that this comment of mine was the talk of the center for a couple of days, but hey, it was a reasonable question – I thought raptors might need their food moving before they'd eat it.

I started my first day at the NWC as a volunteer and it was everything I hoped for. I learned that different raptors, including a red-tailed hawk, kestrels, and owls, although meat eaters, prefer different kinds of meat. Even different owl species like different meals, for instance, Barred Owls prefer mice and Snowy Owls prefer quail.

Top chef
I had the pleasure today of tearing a dead quail's delicate skin, making a slit under the breast, stuffing both breasts with a ground meat mixture, pulling the still-feathered skin back over the stuffed breasts and carefully tucking the loose end under the wing. This is done to fool the Snowy Owls into thinking th e quail are meatier than they are. Snowy owls are very fussy eaters and the quail they give them are not meaty enough to sustain them. But judging by the fact that the cage is strewn with the meat they've spit out, they aren't really being fooled, I guess.

Rat woman
"So, do I just kind of hack, or use a sawing motion?" "A sawing motion, and you'll notice the spine is really hard to cut. And uh, just to warn you, they tend to stink." This conversation transpired while I was cutting a rat in half to feed a Great Horned Owl.

A mouse in da house
One of the Saw Whets, tiny owls about 6" tall, was glaring with a mouse pelt from yesterday still grasped in his talons. Of course who am I fooling - all owls look like they are constantly glaring.

Biting humor
The resident wood turtle, appropriately named "Woody," is allowed free run of the place when there are no visitors. He also attacks feet, hisses, and bites pant legs. It is rather cute until you have to pick him up to put him back in his cage.


Watching too much Food Network?
The turtles/tortoises get meat and cut up fresh fruits and veggies. I found myself putting the chopped produce in separate piles of complimentary colors on the plastic lids that serve as plates for the animals. I realized that I am probably watching The Food Network a little too much "It's all in the presentation." (Ironically, the turtles ate healthier than I do!)


Carrion, my wayward son
Hortense, the resident Turkey Vulture, has most of the workers intimdated since she has no problem, even with only one working wing, attacking the legs of whoever is in there – and it hurts! She gets the meat left over from the day before by the other residents. This seemed kind of mean to me until I realized that vultures eat carrion. Well, d'oh!

We ended today's training with the replenishment of the various frozen rodents for the next day, and I was given a pop quiz so I could figure out what was needed. I didn't do too badly, although I got the idea that I should have been taking notes all along.

Even though I only fed the residents, and did not care for any sick or injured animals, I walked out of there feeling like I had made a difference. This was sorely needed and I look forward to next week.



Current favorite travel quote this side of Bill Bryson
by Seth Stevenson from "Trying Really Hard to Like India" in The Best American Travel Writing 2005:

"In the mid-1970s, famed author V.S. Naipaul (of Indian descent but raised in Trinidad) came to India to survey the land and record his impressions. The result is a hilariously grouchy book titled India: A Wounded Civilization. Really, he should have just titled it India: Allow Me To Bitch at You for 161 Pages." (Appeared in Slate magazine)

OMG, if I could write like that I would be in heaven.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Wild Things

I was running a little late for work today (what a surprise!) and, as usual, I had to go back in the house a couple of times for things I forgot. As I was locking the door after my last return, I happened to look out at the dock and saw a HUGE brown bird taking off from it and slowly flapping back over the sunlit water. I wasn't sure what it was, but it had a larger wingspan than the bald eagle that lives In the woods not too far away. I am tempted to search for a couple of hours online to see if I can identify it, but it will be just as easy to ask at the Northwoods Wildlife Center (NWC) when I go in for training this weekend.

Volunteering there is one of those things that I should have been doing all along while I have been living up here. I know the director and his wife, I have the training, and I even volunteered at the Wildlife Rehab Center (WRC) at the UM Twin Cities for a few months feeding the wild avian patients (and soaking up the knowledge of vet students and people doing their doctorates).

At the WRC we took care of injured wild animals from squirrels to raccoons tosongbirdss to water fowl. Volunteers who were not vet students (me!) got to clean cages and fix wildlife delicacies for the patients such as fresh fruit and grubs (had to get over my aversion to bugs for that!) When we cleaned the cage of an injured bird, we had to transfer the resident to another holding cage, then clean the soiled cage,place the food inside, and transfer the resident back to the now-clean cage. Once, while dealing with a sick mallard,I tried to transfer him back to his clean cage. He was apparently feeling much better, because he FLEW right out of my arms, circled around the small room, and then flew back with his beak wide back into my arms and snapped his beak closed on my left boob! Very painful, but memorable.

I'm sure the NWC will be just as memorable. I was told I would initially be feeding the permanent residents. The NWC has several permanent residents - those animals who cannot be released back into the wild because of permanent injuries. They have a bald eagle, Phoenix, who was taken out of the nest as a nestling and kept in a small cage in someone's basement. By the time she was found,she was suffering from severe arthritis and was not used to being in the wild. She has been a permanent resident of the NWC since 1999.

Read more about Phoenix here: http://www.northwoodswildlifecenter.com/
education/adoption/phoenix.htm


No matter what I am asked to do there, it WILL be a great experience. And something I can feel good about. And of course, something to write about.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Babies grow up too fast

While friends my age are dealing with grandchildren and friends younger than me are still raising their kids of various ages (or in some cases are getting ready to have them!), I brought my "babies" to the vet today for their "geriatric checkup!" Of course mine are of the large canine varierty and both, Newfoundlands, will be turning 9 next month (yet MORE GEMINIS in my life!). Having lost my first Newf (Bozeman) last fall at nearly 12, I know how fast the years go by when you are childless and rely on other species to feed your nurturing needs.

Losing a pet and grief

I think I grieved as much (and can still bring myself to sobbing uncontrollably) for Boze as I did for my mother 17 years ago. I read, somewhere, though, that it's a good thing that dogs don't live longer than humans, because they would suffer at our deaths more than we suffer at theirs. Interesting, though, that means nothing when I am grieving.

BBD (Big Black Dogs)

http://www.blackpearldogs.com/ is a website devoted to the plight of black-coated dogs who overrun shelters and rescue organizations. "The Bark", my favorite magazine (who can resist their play-on-words tagline, "Dog is my co-pilot"?) wrote a piece on black dogs in their March/April 2006 issue, which included the fact that people don't know just how doomed a black dog is when you take him to a shelter. Apparently, no one wants to adopt a big, black dog, because they prefer "flashier breeds," according to the article.

When I was in school for veterinary technology I remember hearing that if two dogs mated and one was black, most of the puppies would be black because black is a dominant color, like brown eyes are in humans. I don't know how true that is, but it makes sense. The plight of black dogs is especially close to my heart since every dog I have had since I was a child was predominantly black. Hm.


A po-em (as edith ann would say) I wrote about my biggest black dog, Bozeman before he got sick:

Grey Snout
When I am old, I will lick plates
Left on the coffee table for only a second.
I will beg at every meal
My mouth watering at every bit my master takes
And my eyes staring into hers
Until she obeys my every command.
I will grab any treat I can get
And be less gentle about taking from human hands.


When I am old, I'll sleep where I want
In a sunbeam or on my master's bed at her feet
I will sleep on my back with all four paws in the air
And snore loudly.
I will nose my master at three in the morning to go out
And take my time sniffing every corner of the yard
While she taps her foot and yawns.


When I am old, I'll make everyone believe
I forgot the commands I once knew so well.
My ears don't hear so well
And my eyes can't see the gestures
I'm an old dog and can't help it.
Or so they'll think.

I will pretend that the word "Come" has no meaning
I'll cock my head and look a little confused
To melt my master's heart.
And then I'll do what I want.



Tuesday, May 16, 2006

In the woods no one can hear you scream

I wanted that to be the title of "one of the books" I wrote someday. Maybe it still will be...

I thought of something so unprofound tonight, as I sat in my home in the woods, watching the finale of NCIS with the open window next to my head. As I watched McGee and DiNozzo discuss their boss's amnesia, I suddenly heard a noise in the background that sounded familiar, yet was out of place in the urban/office environment where they they were.Then I muted the TV and listened more closely, and heard the pair of loons that frequents my small lake calling to each other. One of the most beautiful noises I can here up here and I almost missed the opportunity as I was glued to the television. Of course when they were done I DID NOT immediately switch the TV off, throw it out the window and take my dogs for a walk, but the thought was a start!

So sad that sometimes I don't take time to enjoy the benefits of living where I live - where I always wanted to live - a writer's paradise where I don't write.....

Back to the real unprofound thought though - that after all my years living in cities, the country night in the spring and summer is noisier than any night I spent trying to sleep in a populated (by humans) area.

Well, that profundity begins the journey of my first blog. My purpose is to practice my writing and to get used to writing something other than what I write for my job.