Turtles and Persimmons

One of our friends, Patty who used to be a neighbor, belongs to a hiking group.  Ever since we moved up here, I’ve been looking at the photos she posts of their hikes and wished I could go.  The group hikes on Tuesday mornings — and is made up of retirees.  The minute I retired, I sent Patty an email and asked for details on the next hike.

Today we hiked from the north end of Folsom Lake up to Avery’s Pond.  There were buckeye seeds (huge!) littering the path, wild blackberries clinging to the vines already golden leaved, and turtles sunning themselves on the banks.

There were also wild persimmon trees.  A few of us scrambled down the bank and picked some, enjoying the sweet pucker of their orange flesh.

On the way back to the main road, we stopped and bought a bag of mandarin oranges from a local farm.  As we drove home, dusty and fingers sticky with mandarin juice, I smiled.  This retirement gig is the bomb.

Training Sage

When we decided it was time to get another dog, I lobbied for an Australian Shepherd. I’ve loved the breed — their energy, their intelligence and their affectionate personality — for a long time.  Brett wasn’t sure but after reading a book about breeds that make good ranch dogs, he was convinced.  Aussies scored really high.

Also, I wanted needed an animal to train.  Riding has been problematic with my back issues, and training a dog would be a good alternative.  And what has interested me is the sport of agility — dogs running through a course of jumps and other obstacles— a blend of obedience, speed, and athleticism.  Aussies excel at agility.  

Once we had Sage, I contacted the dog agility club in Sacramento.  They told me that they had a waiting list but since Sage would need to be one year old before starting agility training, the timing would probably work.  In the meantime, I needed to get Sage solid in obedience — running the course is done off lead with hand signals.

We enrolled in puppy kindergarten as soon as Sage finished all her puppy shots.  She howled the whole 20 minute drive to class and whimpered all through class.  The first class she spent in my lap, with her paws on my shoulders and her head buried in my neck.  By the last class, she was enjoying herself and the star puppy.  We took her to the Farmers’ Market with us every Saturday, and while she hated the drive, she loved the market.  She’s never barfed in the car, but she sits with a glassy eyed stare and drools.  She rides in the back seat, with a seat belt, and the windows down — but she still cowers and hides when she sees me with the leash and her harness.

After puppy class, we signed up for regular obedience classes.  I worked with her on the weekends, but my work schedule didn’t allow for more than that.  We progressed, but at a snails pace.  Since I retired, I’ve been working with her every day.  Yesterday I put her in a down-stay and she held it for ten minutes.  She’s gold at home.

Today we had class.  There were six dogs and my shrinking violet puppy acted like she was at a reunion with her long lost sorority sisters.  She was dying to meet them all and play.  After practicing heel, we lined up the dogs and put them in a three minute down-stay.  The trainer tossed a tennis ball and Sage lunged for it.  The third time, she didn’t lunge but she belly crawled out of line, toward it.

We have more work to do; but at least she was brave today.  That’s huge.