Deadman's Basin Reservoir

We took the weekend off and headed two hours north of our place to Deadman's Basin Reservoir for some fishing and camping with Jon's sister and family. Approaching Deadman's is like any typical drive in the country until you turn down a dirt road and crest a hill to find a giant lake nestled in between farm houses.


We thought we had the place to ourselves but on Saturday morning, we acquired neighbors on both sides. On our right, the jet skiers who insisted on riding directly on top of our fishing lines - thanks! On our left, the drunks with a boat. They were piss drunk at 9:00 am when they pulled up. I was expecting high entertainment, and hoping for no fatalities. There were neither.

When we returned, nobody asked if we had fun. They only asked, "Was it windy?" This particular reservoir is notorious for wicked storms that whip out of nowhere, capsizing boats and not too infrequently, drowning people.

The answer? I'll let you judge for yourselves.



On Saturday night, a storm did roll through. We hastily gathered everything in camp, stashed the chairs, weighted down our camper awning with massive logs, and took shelter.


We fished for salmon and trout, but caught a fair share of suckers and carp, which are junk fish.



We learned that Gus is fanatical about going after your fish as you reel it in. That dog has a serious chasing issue: squirrels, mice, rabbits, horses, sheep, cows, and now fish. Thankfully, he leaves the neighbors' cats alone.

Every time someone got a bite, he raced over and plowed into the water to attack the flailing fish. This is fine unless you like teeth marks in your dinner and digging fish hooks out of your dog's paw - which did not deter him, I might add. I only had one bite the whole weekend and I lost the fish because Gus tore the line as I was reeling it in.

For most of the weekend, Gus stood a few feet offshore waiting for a catch.


The Falcons brought their canoe and did a good bit of trolling in it. Taya, my niece who has the entire family wrapped around her five year old fingers, caught more fish than any of us! Not wanting to miss out on anything, she would yell, "ARE YOU GOING ON A BOAT RIDE?!?!" anytime we came within 20 feet of the canoe.

Spring Break Retrospective: Fire and Ice

Turns out that the woodpile we stacked (I use the term "stacked" loosely) last summer became a hovel for mice. All of the dogs were extremely interested in the mice, but only our blind dog Cash pursued the mice with the intensity and focus of a Buddhist monk. He barely left that woodpile during the entire trip which was good because we needed someone to, er, watch the fire. Winds can pick up in an instant out at the ranch.




We choose carefully when to have fires and we watch carefully for flying embers and increasing wind speeds when the fire is burning.


Not only can winds pick up faster than you can say snap, severe weather changes are to be expected in the west. This same night it started snowing on our way into a movie in Red Lodge. When we got home, we lit the fire again to have a beer before going to bed. It was so cold outside that our beers were turning to slush in the bottles. The next morning we woke to this scene:

From Tucker, Cash, and Gus

Happy New Year!

Broken Record!

Yesterday, on October 10th, we experienced the earliest measurable snowfall in Boise, ID. The previous record was October 12th. It was just a few inches of snow, but it was SNOW! I am already in the mood to bust out the snow board.


Having grown up on the Navajo Indian Reservation in Arizona, Gus wasn't quite sure what to do with his first snow. Ducking the flakes was unsuccessful, so he decided that hiding under bushes was the best course of action. I hope he likes to snowshoe.

Coming soon...

I can't believe the last time I blogged was July 30th, and that I left ya'll hanging about the sheep. There are many more stories to tell about our summer that I'm sure we won't get to all of them.

I arrived back in Boise with Cash and Gus (the two sheep-marauding dogs) a week before Jon and Tucker and it is has been somewhat of a difficult transition for me and Gus. Per usual, Jon adapts readily but I am slower to ease into the old routine. I have been home for a week and a half and my suitcase is still sitting open and full on the floor of the guest bedroom. I find myself barely able to be inside the house. I find myself wanting for physical work on a scale that just isn't available here in the city; although, the backup of six weeks of yard work gave me a good run for my money. Gus quickly bored of the confines of our yard. He found a hole in the fence and decided to explore on his own. Fortunately, he didn't go too far and when I found him he was so excited that I had decided to join him for his adventure!

I am sure we will try to do some posts about a few more things from the ranch, but for the most part, life will move on. School starts at BSU on August 25th for both me and Jon. Just like last semester, my night class falls on one of the few nights that Jon doesn't have class. Arggh! But, a friend of mine will be in the class with me which will make it much more enjoyable. Jon starts his clinical nursing rotations so the semester should be very interesting and busy for him.

Summer is not yet over and I hope it has treated you all well. We will make the most of what remains.

Summer Photo Log

Finally home! I returned to Boise on Saturday evening after a nice 12 hour drive through Montana and Idaho. We chilled out for a night and then started our long list of projects we've got to do here at our house. Gardening and yard work were first on the list. There was also a good bit of laundry and house cleaning intermingled throughout most of the day. I've added pictures to our photo repository from our summer so far. You can see the mess our renters left behind, the clean-up effort. We got so many things done, most importantly the transformation of our ranch from a junk pile to a cozy place to stay.

I just installed a dog door for our 3 boys, they seem confused. I think they prefer having a doorman. We'll write more later, enjoy the photos!

Zzzzzzzzzzz

Last night was a sleepless one--or at least sleep only in short bursts. Since we moved the camper to be closer to the bath-house, there are more sounds from the nearby pastures and hills. Between the coyotes howling, the dogs barking at the coyotes, and then the dogs howling with the coyotes, last night's sleep was fitful at best. I woke three times that I recall to a canine symphony starting with yipping and howling coyotes in the not too far away distance, joined by barking dogs in three pitches: Tucker, Cash, and Gus, building to a cacophony of barking and howling dogs and coyotes. We looked out the camper window to see Cash with his nose pointed high in the air singing, "aaaawwwwwooooooooooo!"

And somewhere in between was this sleepy conversation:

--unidentified animal noise--

--barking dogs--

Jon: "What was that?"
Me: "It was a cow."
Jon: "That was NOT a cow."
Me: "No? I thought it sounded like a cow."
Jon: "It sounded like a mountain lion."
Me: "I didn't think we had mountain lions down here."
Jon: "Me neither. Maybe it was a bobcat."
Me: "Okay, now I am totally freaked out and I have to go to the bathroom."

All of this makes me nervous because tomorrow our neighbor is putting 20 ewes and their lambs in our orchard and corral areas to eat down the grass. It is a mutually beneficial agreement: our grass needs to be eaten and the sheep are hungry.

But, I am worried about the coyotes preying on the sheep. Our neighbor says as long as our dogs are around the sheep should be fine. I am worried about the dogs chasing the sheep, or worse, because our dogs aren't accustomed to livestock. Our neighbor says his sheep are used to dogs, but still, I worry.

Really, I couldn't sleep last night worrying about it. Then again, maybe it was the coyotes...

Log Cabin

This is the original log cabin that was built on the property. At one time, a friend of Jon's father had plans to deconstruct it and rebuild it on his property. His numbering system didn't work and he wasn't able to keep track of the pieces, thus the pile of logs we eventually used to build a makeshift enclosure for the dogs.

The dogs quickly learned to jump over our little fence, so in part that was a wasted effort although the logs needed to be moved anyway. Good thing there is a larger fenced area of several acres to keep the dogs somewhat contained.

The log cabin is small, and in later years was re-purposed as a pig sty. Literally. Nowadays, the roof needs alot of work and there are inches, perhaps feet, of old manure inside. There are no plans to do anything with it; for now it is just a historic novelty.

And Then There Were Three

This past Friday I was sitting outside Papa Joe's restaurant, at the base of the hill that leads to our neighborhood. A cute, friendly dog was running around the patio. I thought he belonged to some folks a few tables away.

Unless you have absolutely no powers of deduction, I'm sure you see where this story is headed.

Our dogs are currently in Montana with Jon and the house has been very quiet. I didn't check with Jon first because by now, he knows the deal with me and stray dogs. Firstly, they find me. Secondly, I somehow feel that it is my karmic duty to help them find good homes and I don't understand why more people don't feel the same sense of responsibility.

I got a piece of rope from our waiter, left my bike locked to the rack at the restaurant, and walked home with a stray dog. I stopped at our neighbors' house so that new dog could meet their exuberant black lab Eddie, as Eddie was going to be staying with me Saturday and Sunday. The dogs got along famously.

On Sunday, I took new dog to the vet to be scanned for a microchip (he had none) and then to our local pet store for their monthly low-cost vaccine clinic.

Monday morning, I found new dog's picture while flipping through the newspaper classified ads in the adopt-a-pet section:

I was almost certain that was a picture of new dog (tentatively named Gus the night before)! I called the number in the ad and when the woman answered, I said I was calling about the dog she had for adoption. There was a pause on the line. She sighed and then said, "well, unfortunately, he ran away a few days ago." I told her that I thought I had him and she commenced to tell me his story.

Turns out that her father Jim was working on an asbestos abatement project on the Navajo Indian Reservation in Arizona and new dog was hanging around the job site. Every day, they pulled up and he was always there waiting for their arrival. A couple of the guys got attached to him and one in particular, a guy named Ray, was going to take him back home to his place in Oklahoma. Well, Ray packed up his truck with barely enough room to spare so new dog dog sat in the front passenger seat. Ray got eight miles down the road and new dog somehow hit the electric window button and rolled the window down. Ray pulled over to remedy the situation and when he did, new dog jumped out and ran back towards the reservation. Ray called Jim who was still at the reservation and he ended up bringing the dog (they call him Red Rover) back to Boise in hopes of finding a good home for him.

Red Rover Gus escaped out of Jim's yard by jumping from a bench over the fence. Apparently, Jim was home for one day before leaving again for another job and Red Rover Gus got pretty stressed out by all of the change, hence his escape. Jim and I made plans for him to come by and pick up Red Rover Gus. He was headed back to Texas that evening, would see Ray again, and could try to hand off Red Rover Gus to Ray once again.

When Jim came by, Red Rover Gus was clearly excited to see him. We chatted for a while and I probed him about his plans. Was Ray a good guy? Did he think this was going to be a good home? Oh yes, he said, Ray and his wife have several acres in Oklahoma City with horses and other dogs. I could sense hesitation, though, and when I pressed a little, he said that he really wants to keep Red Rover Gus but his wife and family don't want him. He was hoping they would come around but he felt compelled to take Red Rover Gus to Ray since he didn't have time to rectify the escape route before he left that evening.

I offered to keep Red Rover Gus for a few days to give Jim additional time to think on it or work on his family. He agreed and said he would call when he returned on Saturday. If his family failed to come around, Jim would see Ray again later in the summer and we agreed that I should continue to try and find Gus a permanent home locally. When Jim left, Red Rover Gus was decidedly upset, whining and pacing for the remainder of the evening (except when I took him over to see Eddie for a play date, during which they both ran around like banshees).

Red Rover Gus is available for adoption, although I wish we could keep him. He's a really neat dog with good behavior and a calm disposition, sort of a playful but reserved Buddhist monk-type reincarnated in a dog body. A neighbor told me today that "res(ervation) dogs" are usually exceptional--generations of harsh social and living conditions means that only the smartest and strongest survive.

I've talked with several people in marketing Gus for adoption and so far everyone has said, "Oh no, I couldn't have a dog right now because of <insert reason here>." I know being a dog owner isn't for everyone and there are some that absolutely should not have pets. We will keep Gus until he finds a home: either with someone great or with us. He is proving to be a lovely dog with a kind disposition, sincere loyalty, and a unique history.

If Pioneers Had Chainsaws

A pile of logs sat on the ranch property just to the right of the little house. Jon always referred to them as old telephone poles but closer inspection revealed that they were logs from the original log cabin. The cabin still stands on the property although it is several logs shorter and was re-purposed as a pig sty.

The logs needed to be moved so that we could get the utility trailer as close to the little house as possible. Brutus and Troy helped us build a fence around the camper in hopes of keeping Cassius the blind dog from wandering.




For the most part, the fence doesn't work. Cassius is smart. He quickly learned where the fence was shortest and followed Tucker's lead in jumping over. Some mornings he's halfway down the lane before we finish our first cup of coffee.

Jon called me one night out of breath; he had taken the dogs into one of the fields and had Cassius running and playing at top speed. Normally, Cash trots along warily; you would, too, if you couldn't see a damn thing. Across the wire, I could only imagine the exuberance of a blind dog running at full tilt without a care, but it gave me immense joy. That is, until Jon told me that Cash ran out of earshot and right into the irrigation ditch before Jon could stop him. But I laughed out loud when he said that unfazed, Cash leapt out, shook off, and resumed his play.

We get such pleasure out of watching this boy navigate the sighted world with his other senses.

So Sweet!

see more dog pictures

Blind Dog, Still Hunts

Object of desire #1.

Object of desire #2.

Be very quiet, he's hunting squirrels.

Despite being blind, our dog Cassius still hunts squirrels for the better part of most days. And when I say better, I mean both quantitatively and qualitatively, for he certainly considers this to be the penultimate fun activity. The only thing better is eating anything, including cat poop.

He may not be able to see the squirrels but he can sure hear them. He spends hours racing around the yard guided by their chattering. Sometimes we even catch Cash quietly and slowly stalking the squirrels like a cat, apparently not realizing that although he can't see them, they can very much see him.


Occasionally the chases end with some collateral damage, but when you get right down to it, he doesn't need those eyes anyway!

Disclaimer #1: This injury was only to the skin outside of his eye and is now healed. His vision, however, remains the same. He has none.

Disclaimer #2: For those of you grossed out that he eats cat poop, I was just kidding. He only eats Tucker's poop.

Disclaimer #3: For those of you grossed out by any discussion of poop and in particular eating poop, it was all just a big joke. No, really.

Has Spring Sprung?

The weather seems to be a hot topic of conversation as of late. You see, it has been pretty nice here lately compared to our January stint of 8 degree Fahrenheit (-13 C) mornings and the abundance of snow we received. The morning mercury hasn’t dipped into the teens for about 2 weeks, and frankly I don’t miss it! Jumping on the bicycle to head downtown is much more enjoyable when you don’t have to freeze your ears off doing it. Our daytime temperatures have been in the 40s, and 40 in the high desert sun is pretty darn nice. Sunday we went for a walk in the foothills with the doggies. I was surprised to see how quickly the trails have begun to dry out. Of course there are several places that are muddy, but those places were easy to avoid.

I hope spring has not sprung yet, I want more time to play in the snow! The news reports are leading me to believe that we’ll be in winter for a good bit longer. There are reports of ski resorts and forest service negotiations to extend resort leases until late April because significant snowmelt is supposed to be delayed this year. Wahoo! We may get to play in the snow until May!


Speaking of playing in the snow, we recently had some visitors from Raleigh, NC. Our friends came up and got surprised by our little slice of Idaho. It was a great visit, plenty of relaxing, some fine dining, and some pretty heavy powder at Bogus Basin. I had billed Bogus as our “little local resort” because I didn’t want to set an expectation of a great western ski resort. I was informed that when compared to any of the southeastern resorts, it was a great resort. I think I’ve just become spoiled by the west and the terrain already. I picked up my 08/09 season pass yesterday, $199.00. Oh how I do enjoy being spoiled!

Tonight we may head over to the foothills trail meeting to see what is to be done about the apparent dog poo problem on the trails. My crystal ball tells me that we may have to drive a few miles further in the future if we want to let our pups run free on the trails. I guess we’ll see. How would you change the habits of those owners who refuse to pick up the poo of their pet? I don’t know if it’s possible to change those inconsiderate people.

Yesterday finished my first round of exams for this semester, and boy was it a tough one. Apologies for the lack of blogging on my part, I’ve been trapped in a room with an enormous stack of textbooks and lab manuals. I am spending considerably more time studying this semester than ever before. I don’t think my credit load will increase over the next couple of years but I’m certain my workload will when I start doing clinical rotations. At the start of the semester I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to maintain my GPA with my current class schedule, now I know I can do it. Although, I quickly realized that I wouldn’t be able to maintain my hobbies at their previous levels. Biking and snowboarding have taken a distant second to class and studying ☹. The exam grades are well worth sacrificing some hobby time.

Picture Pages

Here are some photos from our trip to Montana.

Ranch buildings

Proud pups

So this is why they call it Big Sky Country

On the road to Red Lodge Mountain

Don't eat the yellow snow

Rock Creek, Red Lodge, Montana

Red Lodge, Montana historical marker (click photo to enlarge)