Rolling Dog Farm

The Winner Of The Quilt Raffle Is...

Barbara Edwards, the quilt maker from Seeley Lake, Montana, asked our internal medicine specialist in Missoula, Dr. Dave Bostwick, to select the winning raffle ticket for us.  Barbara's husband Scott took the photo of Barbara with Dave at his clinic in Missoula.  The winner was Norma D. in Switzerland!  Norma has been a long-time supporter of the ranch and visited us a few years ago when she was living in the U.S.  She's participated in the raffle for several years running, and we were delighted that she won Barbara's beautiful quilt this time.

In case anyone might wonder about the impartiality of the drawing, it appears to me that since neither Barbara or Dave was looking at either the basket or the camera, it was truly a "blind" drawing.  Although I wonder what the good doctor was holding in his hand behind his back.  (Scalpel?)  Hmm.

The raffle brought in $1,665 for the animals, so a big 'thank you' to everyone who purchased tickets.  Thanks also to Dr. Dave for doing the honors on our behalf, since we couldn't be there to do it ourselves.  And a really, really big 'thank you' to Barbara for doing another amazing quilt raffle for the ranch!  

Finally, Everything Is Here

This past Saturday the second and last moving van arrived, and then yesterday the last flatbed trailer load arrived. In the photo above, that's Mike R. from New York, whose final load for us included our second tractor, a dog house, tractor implements, and two pallets of stall mats. 

Here's a photo I took on Saturday of Alayne and Dave H., the driver who delivered both moving vans for us and then kindly and generously helped us unload them:

There was only 20,000 pounds (9,071 kg) of stuff in this load, down from 30,000 pounds (13,607 kg) in the first moving van!

Last night Alayne and I totaled up everything and counted 16 trips -- the two moving vans, the seven flatbed trailer loads Mike made, two semi-truck flatbed trailer loads, the dog and cat caravan, two large animal trailer loads, and then the trips that the two of us made, each hauling a trailer with animals on board.  Whoops, that doesn't count the trip I made out here in mid-April, also with truck and horse trailer, so that's 17 trips.

In a way it was fitting that Mike brought the final load, because he had picked up the very first load in early April -- a full trailer of corral panels.  Back then I wasn't sure how we were going to get it all done, but somehow we did.  Moving all the animals was more complicated than most people might realize, because each animal needed pre-departure health exams and an individual interstate health certificate from our vets before they could travel.  The horses needed all that and more -- Coggins tests, brand inspections and import permits, too. 

I think we earned advanced degrees in logistics for this adventure. 

Of course, we are a long way from being settled.  We still have to figure out where to put the 50,000 pounds of stuff we've now unloaded over the past month!  But at least everything is here, and that's a big relief!

Here is the very last thing off the last load -- a dog house:

At least we know where we're going to put that ... in the nearest dog yard!

Good Thing Someone's Legs Are So Short

 

Alayne and I were sitting on the deck after dinner the other evening when we heard blind Widget start woo-woo-wooing from inside the house.  Sometimes she will woo-woo-woo when she wants help getting out of a chair, sometimes she will do this to demand food from us while we're eating, and sometimes she'll do this because, well, she likes the sound of her own voice.  But this determined woo-woo-wooing kept going, so I went inside to see what the Widge was up to. 

I found her in the kitchen, woo-woo-wooing ... in anticipation? ... in frustration? ... because she was oh-so-close to snatching our left-over dinner off the counter.  Oh-so-close as in inches.  As in, the inches she might have had if her legs were normal Beagle ones and not those confounded Dachshund legs she was born with.

Usually when she attempts a food heist, she's coy and quiet about it, even if brazen.  But this woo-woo-wooing while trying to steal the food is akin to a burglar setting off the burglar alarm himself and then breaking into the house.

She didn't even care that I was in the kitchen, and she continued trying to figure out how she could grab the oven pan off the counter while I went to get the camera.  The only indication that she realized law enforcement had arrived on the scene is the dropped tail; an upright, bobbing tail is a confident Widget, while the dropped tail is the "uh-oh-I'm-not-so-sure-about-this-anymore" Widget.  Her confidence about pulling off a successful heist had wilted, in other words, even as her determination endured.

After taking the photo for our evidence files, I promptly took her into custody and escorted her out of the kitchen and onto the deck, where she was placed in detention.

Have Basket, Will Travel

Of course, the laundry baskets made the trip to New Hampshire too, along with everything else.  We weren't about to leave any of these "beds" behind.  As you can see, blind Goldie has commandeered the one in the living room, which is at the moment blocking the door to the basement behind her.  These baskets are just as popular here as they were back in Montana!

Say, Anyone Know Where I Put My Dentures?

Today I picked up the three dogs I had taken in to the Whitefield vet clinic yesterday for regularly scheduled dentals -- blind Widget, blind Madison and Dexter T. Dickens.  Long-time blog readers may recall that Dexter had needed emergency oral surgery in California in late 2008 before we could bring him out to the ranch, and among the many teeth he had removed then was his upper right canine.  He had more teeth removed during his dental last year in Montana.  And two more teeth are gone as a result of his latest dental here, including his upper left canine.  (He's now left teeth behind in three states -- literally from coast to coast -- perhaps the first dog with that distinction.  Hmm.)

Since he first arrived, he had sported an endearing "snaggle-toothed" look on one side of his mouth -- you can see it in the photos on that original blog post -- but now he's got a double snaggle-tooth expression.  So it's twice as endearing!

I was going to use a different headline for this post, but then I looked again at the photo we took this afternoon and realized he really did look like a little old fella who'd misplaced his dentures!

The Plan

I know this is a pretty boring photo of one of our trucks at a gas pump.  But there's a little more to it.

Back in early April, when we first announced our impending move to New Hampshire, I mentioned that a major reason for relocating was to be closer to services so we could reduce our operating costs for increasingly expensive things like gas.  In Montana, we were 70 miles from anywhere, so it was a 140-mile (225 km) round trip to take an animal to the vet clinic or to get supplies and groceries.  Even though we tried to be very efficient and disciplined about going to Missoula or Helena only once a week -- we'd pack as many as 8 to 10 stops into a single day in town -- it was still a pricey fill-up-the-gas-tank trip.  Plus, we'd be on the road most of the day.  Of course, if an animal needed to see a vet outside that once-a-week schedule, off we'd go to the clinic.

So once I got to New Hampshire, I kept an eye on the gas tank in the truck I drove out from Montana.  I had filled it up the day I arrived in Lancaster, eight weeks ago last Friday.  I was amazed as I made trip after trip into town that the gas gauge hardly budged.  I'd call Alayne back in Ovando and say, "Hey, I'm still at three-quarters of a tank!"  And this was making many more trips into town than I usually would -- we still intend to consolidate multiple errands into single trips, as we did in Montana -- but in the first several weeks of trying to get settled, it was harder to be quite as organized and efficient.

Well, two months later to the day, on Friday, it was finally time to fill 'er up -- and that's what you see in the photo above.  It was hard to believe one tank had lasted that long, given the number of trips I'd made, but that's what being 3 miles (5 km)  from town will do for you.  It was satisfying to know that this part of the plan was already yielding results. 

Alayne and I have discussed trading in one of the trucks for a smaller, more fuel-efficient vehicle at some point, but we want to get a routine established here and see how much we'll use both trucks before making that decision.  (Both trucks are also completely paid for.)  We haul a lot -- whether horses, hay or other heavy, bulky loads -- and there have been plenty of times when one of us has been on the road hauling horses to the vet clinic or loading up the truck with supplies while the other has needed the second truck back at the ranch.  So we'll see how we end up.  

But in the meantime, it was good to see the first direct cost savings we anticipated as a result of moving to New Hampshire.  In fact, eight weeks between fill-ups is even better than we had expected!

Magical Healing Powers

Apparently just the sight of a veterinarian can provide magical -- and instant -- healing powers.  Or so little Bailey would have us believe. 

On Tuesday afternoon, Bailey began yiking when he moved his head in a certain direction.  Over the years, we've often had these kinds of episodic neck and back issues with the Dachshunds (most of whom are here because of spine-associated neuro problems), and our vets would typically prescribe prednisone to reduce the inflammation and provide quick relief.  Usually these were fleeting, quickly resolved things that responded beautifully to the pred, and then we'd begin to taper down the dose after several days.  So we immediately put Bailey on pred and confined him to a puppy pen in the living room.  Within a couple of hours he was comfortable, and we figured we'd continue the treatment protocol like we had before on previous occasions.

But on Wednesday morning, when I went to get Bailey out of his "boat" -- the bottom half of a big dog crate where we put his bed for the night -- he looked up at me and then yiked again.  And again.  Whenever he tried to look up, he yiked, and he held his head in way that indicated the problem was in his neck.  We gave him his morning dose of pred and kept him confined in the living room puppy pen, but by mid-morning he was still painful and seemingly getting worse.  Alayne called our new vet clinic, the Whitefield Animal Hospital, and got an appointment for late afternoon.  As the morning wore on, though, Bailey became more vocal, so Alayne called the clinic and asked if we could get him in earlier.

Shortly after 2 p.m. I bundled him in his "pee towel," put him in a crate, and drove down him to the clinic to see Dr. Nancy Lefavour.  (She is one of the two excellent veterinarians on the staff, along with Dr. Chris Plumley, and they have a wonderful support team of vet techs and front office people as well.  We're lucky to have them so close.)  As I explained to Dr. Lefavour the symptoms we'd seen, I carefully placed Bailey on the exam table ... and noticed that he was looking around the room, moving his head, seemingly without any discomfort.  Hmm.  

Dr. Lefavour listened to his heart and did a physical, then began a neuro evaluation.  She palpated his spine and found no signs of pain down his back.  Then she began working on his neck, trying to pinpoint the problem.  She slowly and gently moved Bailey's head to the left, then to the right, so he was almost touching his shoulder with his nose.  No response.  Then she flexed his head down so his nose was near the exam table.  No response either. 

I stared in disbelief.  But I thought, well, she's going to raise his head up next and that will be the trigger.

Ever so gently, she started coaxing his head upwards ... and his nose went higher and higher.  It was finally pointed at the ceiling.

But not a peep from the pipsqueak. 

She did the range of motion again, with the same result:  no reaction at all.

I told her, "I know you must think we're crazy, but he was yiking in pain two hours ago, just from raising his head up to look at me."  I was incredulous.

We put Bailey down on the floor so she could watch how he moved, and he got around just fine.  

Bailey wondered why everyone was staring at him.

I wondered why I had brought him.

The only thing we could conclude was that his morning dose of pred had finally kicked in.  Either that, or Dr. Lefavour indeed has some magical healing powers!

She recommended we continue with his pred and add a muscle relaxant, methocarbamol, and some pain medication, tramadol, to the mix, keep him confined and see how he does.

As I write this Thursday afternoon, Bailey is resting comfortably in the puppy pen next to my desk:

I Guess This Makes It Official

You can sign all the documents, record the deed, pay the first property taxes, and submit the change of address forms to the Post Office ... but nothing seems to make a move finally and completely "official" until you change the license plates on your vehicles.  At least that's how it seems to us.  I registered both trucks last Friday and this afternoon put the New Hampshire plates on the trucks.  We purchased New Hampshire's conservation fund plates, commonly referred to as the "Moose Plate".

There you have it:

I think we're here to stay.

I Think I Can Get A Bit Closer

During last week's blistering heat wave, there was another favorite spot in the house: in front of the fans.  I took this photo of blind Widget in the living room, who managed to get her nose within an inch of that fan.  A day or two before, Alayne had seen Widget this close in front of the same fan, but lying on her chest rather than her side -- and in this position her ears were flying out and backwards with the wind tunnel effect.  Before Alayne could get the camera off the desk, Widget heard her walking by and sat up.  Hopefully we'll get another chance to get the flying Widge on camera.

Here's another view:

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A number of people asked why we didn't have the hay wagon with us here.  For one thing, it belonged to our neighbor in Montana who grew our hay.  Unless you're growing a big crop of hay -- and he had more than 200 acres in hay -- you don't need ... and can't afford to invest in ... a big piece of machinery like that.  Second, you drive it into a hay barn -- and the trusses need to be about 18 feet high to accommodate the height of the wagon when it tips the wall of hay all the way up.  Alayne and I were unloading hay into a hay loft, which is on the second floor of a shed. 

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Please Welcome Blind and Deaf Gabe

No, not that blind and deaf Gabe, this one is the blind and deaf Gabe we first mentioned on the blog in early May.  This sweet older boy just arrived yesterday from Pennsylvania, where he had been fostered by longtime friends and supporters of the ranch, Barb and Jerry W.  For the history on this Gabe, please check out that previous post. 

Barb and Jerry had been kind enough to not only foster Gabe for us for several weeks, but they took him to the vet multiple times, including a veterinary ophthalmologist, and paid all those medical bills, too.  All we had to do was arrange with Gale Lang of TLC Pet Transport, who brought all the dogs and cats out in late May, to pick him up for us.  

Gabe has settled right in, adding yet another set of paws to what once was -- however briefly -- "the people wing" of this house and is quickly becoming "the dog wing annex."  Yesterday he spent the afternoon just wandering around the living room and kitchen, exploring the front porch and yard, and generally getting his bearings.  It was simply amazing to see how fast he figured out where the ramp up to the front porch was.  Yesterday evening, as I was writing the blog post on the hay, Gabe was lying by my feet underneath the desk.  Last night, as we were dishing out dinner into food bowls, he got so excited he let out a little yip bark in the living room -- just like the other blind and deaf Gabe used to do!  He seems to have taken the move in stride.

Thanks to Barb and Jerry for all their wonderful help with Gabe.  He's one lucky boy because of them!