Sidney

You wouldn’t know it just by looking at him, but Sidney is one tough dog.  I call him the “Energizer Beagle” because no matter what life throws at him…abuse, neglect, hunger, bad teeth, a heart murmur, and most recently, congestive heart failure… he bounces right back and doesn’t let anything get in his way or slow him down. 

He’s spending a third night at the vet’s office, hooked up to an IV delivering fluids to cleanse his ailing kidneys.  Within just a a few days he started sleeping all the time, declined to join his three canine pals and I on our daily romps through the woods, lost his appetite, and his fur began falling out in clumps.   
 
I took him to the vet on Thursday afternoon and Dr. H. took one look at him and said he wanted to run blood tests and take an x-ray.  After Sidney was brought back to the examining room and we awaited the results alone together, I just knew in my gut that it was going to be bad news. 

             

Sidney’s kidney values are extremely high.  Last year at this time, when the animal experts and I were deciding whether or not to put him through another round of teeth cleaning, they had come back normal, but he was diagnosed with a heart murmur.  He’s been on a steady regiment of heart medications ever since, with two more prescriptions having been added this past fall ( Dr. H. has seen that same drug combination lead to kidney problems in other dogs before).  Our best option at this time was to stop giving Sid his heart meds, especially since one of them acts as a diuretic, and get some fluids into him.

I took off work early yesterday afternoon so I could spend some time with him before the vet’s office closed at 5:00 p.m.  His values hadn’t changed much, although his appetite had returned (“he ate with gusto!”) and light and life had returned to his eyes.  The vet’s office was testing him again this morning and so I drove to their office (which is a half hour drive away) to get the results in person and keeping my fingers crossed that I would be leaving with him.  However,  Dr. S. (a vet who I love…she actually takes the time to listen as well as explain things in detail to you), told me he was spending another night…his BUN (blood urea nitrogen) value was still off the charts and the others hadn’t dropped much either.  Remarkably so far, his heart isn’t reacting negatively to being off his meds.  Dr. S. commented on what a tough, resilient old dog he is.

             

I adopted Sidney from the local animal shelter in April 2000 when he was four years old.  He had been discovered by a couple hiking in the woods somewhere in the Chatham area and had been on the brink of starvation and suffering a form of the mange (I wish I knew who those people were—I have always wanted to thank them for saving his life).  That’s all I know about Sidney's existence before he came home with me, although I have caught glimpses of what his previous life must have been like just by observing his behavior for the past 13 years.  He wasn’t potty trained so he was most likely an outdoor dog, and he had a strong fear of men--it took him a long time to trust my husband after we had started dating.   Although he’s mellowed with age, he still takes his time warming up to men, but once he does, you have a friend for life.  However, I’m still the only person who is able to touch him on his backside, near his tail, without him freaking out.

Sidney is my protector and comic relief.  When I cry, he is the one who comes to me and offers comfort with just his love and presence.  He loves to be held in my arms and cuddled like a baby.  
 

I am trying to remain both optimistic and realistic at the same time—but it’s a strange balancing act and reality is gaining a stubborn foot-hold this time.  I’ve known for several months, despite his spunk and spurts of energy, that his life is winding down.  He’s 17 years old.  Just a month ago, during one of our hikes through the woods on a gorgeous, Saturday afternoon, watching him revel in all his handsome Beagle glory, I sent out a prayer to the universe asking that he be allowed to enjoy at least one more summer.

It probably sounds like I’m being very brave and selfless, but I’m not.  I don’t want my dog to die—but what I want and what he needs are probably two very different things.   What I do know is that I absolutely refuse to inflict any unnecessary treatments on him that will only prolong his life but do nothing to enhance the quality of it.  I don’t want him to die all alone in a kennel at the vet’s office.  I just want to bring him home so he can be surrounded by all of us humans, dogs, cats, and chickens. who love him best.  If nothing more can be done for him, I want him to die wrapped up in my arms, knowing how much he is loved.  I want to be the one who helps him transition from his place in this world to whatever adventures he has to look forward to in the next.           

The one I am most worried about is Di’ogi.  I adopted her from the same shelter just four months after Sidney and the two of them have been inseparable ever since.  Di’ogi is Sid’s security blanket, and we all lovingly call him the “Barnacle.” It’s as if he believes Di’ogi is a literal extension of himself.  I think that during all their years together so far, they’ve only spent one night apart (when he went in for a surgery).   These past couple of days have been hard for her...I catch her looking around for him and she’s sticking pretty close to me--not allowing me to stray too far outside her line of vision, lest I should go missing too.

Seasons on the Escanaba River

Spring

Summer

Autumn

 

Winter

Nature Awareness Journal

I love the four seasons and winter has always held a special place in my heart ever since I was a young kid building snow forts and claiming victory over the ever growing mountain of snow at the end of our driveway... courtesy of the Green Bay City snowplows, of course.

The earth is resting now in its peaceful and well-deserved slumber, but the world has not gone entirely dormant…birds still visit my yard and find shelter in the pine trees and nourishment at the feeders I keep filled for them year round.  Deer and rabbit tracks lead me along meandering and diverging paths and I find that the woods are at their best during these cold and snowy months.  Places that were inaccessible to me in the summer and fall have let down their guard now that there is a foot or more of snow covering the ground.  I can hear the wind coming from miles away and I brace myself for it—my arms open wide, waiting in eager anticipation for the frigid blast of rushing air to wash over and through me. 

My Yule/Christmas Tree

Victory in Michigan! Shady Grove Farm Protected by Right to Farm Act

 
These farmers are practically my neighbors since they live only a few miles from me.  I've been following this case for some time and the Judge's decision was the best Christmas present--not only for the Buchler family, but for all of us small rural and urban farmers in the State of Michigan.

Here's the link to the article:   http://www.farmtoconsumer.org/news_wp/?p=3369

Falls Church, Virginia (December 19, 2012) — Fund members Randy and Libby Buchler of Shady Grove Farm learned today that their farming operation in Forsyth Township, Michigan can continue. Judge Thomas L. Solka of the Marquette County Circuit Court ruled that “because defendants’ farm . . . is protected from nuisance suits under the Right to Farm Act plaintiff’s request for an injunction closing the farm is denied.” [See Solka opinion, p.16]

The Right to Farm Act was invoked as a defense when the family farm was sued by Forsyth Township for having approximately 150 chickens and 8 sheep on their 6.5 acres; the Buchlers sell eggs and wool produced on the farm. Because the area where they farm is not zoned for agriculture, the township sought an injunction to halt the farming activities. The judge held that the Right to Farm Act controlled over the township zoning ordinance.

The Buchlers greeted the news with smiles and hugs and vowed to “keep on providing food for our family and the community. That’s all we’re trying to do here. We are really grateful for all of the support we’ve received from the local community, farmers across the country, and the Farm-to-Consumer Legal Defense Fund.”

The Fund retained lead counsel Michelle Halley of Marquette to represent the Buchlers; Fund board member and attorney Steve Bemis of Ann Arbor served as co-counsel in the case.
The Buchlers’ attorney, Michelle Halley said, “Judge Solka’s opinion is spot-on and well-reasoned. He applied the law as written; this case really was that straight-forward. This decision is a victory for the Buchlers and farmers across Michigan.”

Michigan’s Right to Farm Act contains a broad and clear edict stating that commercial farms that conform to applicable Generally Accepted Agricultural and Management Practices (GAAMPs) are not subject to nuisance suits. The Act was further amended and took effect in 2000 to make its preemption of local zoning even more clear.

This use to be my playground....

Growing up in Green Bay, Wisconsin, my neighborhood boundaries extended not only blocks, but several miles in every direction from my front yard and like any kid, I had my favorite hang-outs where I spent a great deal of my childhood and teen-age years.  Colburn Park is one of those places.  I can still close my eyes and physically experience the joy of the warm wind and sun on my face and the thrill of riding my bike at demonic speed along the wooded dirt path to get to the pool where I became an almost permanent fixture during those endless days of summer.

I drove home to Green Bay this past Wednesday to attend the funeral service for my Aunt Myrt who died on October 5th at the age of 92.  Before heading over to my mom's apartment, I decided to take a nostalgia tour.  First on my itinerary was the street I grew up on (I refuse to take pictures of my old house...the most recent owners cut down my beloved Maple Trees and every other living thing that grew there).  I then retraced the one mile route I use to walk every day to Saint Joseph School where I attended first and second grade and my Aunt Myrt had been employed as a teacher for many years.

I continued west on Ninth Street--past the Southwest Branch of the Brown County Library and the old brick building where we use to get ice cream cones, but is now home to an upholstery shoppe and several apartment units.  After several more blocks I came to my ultimate destination...the place I had loved since I was a little girl but probably hadn't stepped foot in for more than 20 years.  But like the best of old friends, the instant we were reunited, it was as though we had never been apart.  We just picked up the conversation right where we had left off without skipping a beat.   

I had the entire place to myself...it was peaceful and had that eerily beautiful and haunting quality that only a sunny Autumn day can evoke.  My only companions were the birds singing from their high branches and the scampering squirrels as they darted from one Oak tree to the next collecting their stash of acorns for the long, cold winter months ahead.  The dirt path I had once walked and rode my bike upon had long since been paved over, yet everything else felt exactly the same as I'd left it.  I had only meant to stay a minute or two, but wound up following the path through the entire park until I reached the pool. 

The high dive is gone and the pool is smaller than I remember it, but isn’t that how it always goes?  Getting caught up in the current of childhood memories can be the happiest of time travel, but they are susceptible to distortion when viewed through an adult lens.  Of course everything seemed grander in scale when we were kids not just because of our size, but because our world was so much smaller back then, more insular.  My close-knit family, friends, and beloved pets wrapped me up in a cocoon of love and security.  My main concerns revolved around school and homework, socializing and music, and praying that my inevitable, headlong tumble into first love would be the kind to last (it didn’t).

I could have spent the rest of the afternoon rambling happily through the park, but it was time to go.  As I reluctantly turned around to retrace my steps back to the parking lot, I was struck with the unmistakable feeling that I wasn’t alone anymore.  In that one, perfectly clear moment, I caught a glimpse of myself--the scrawny tomboy of a kid I use to be with braces and scraped knees-- flying up the path with total freedom and abandon.  I was greeted by the laughter of old friends, all of whom I still love without question, but have lost contact with over the years.  I was caught up in the embrace of my grandparents who died when I was six years old, and comforted by the familiar and loving presence of my Daddy whose sudden death has left a void in my life for almost 26 years.  They were gathered around me so close that maybe, if I had just reached out my hand, I could have touched them all again.

Autumn in my backyard