What's wrong with my dog's face?Or body? Bones and wasps, too

SUMMARY: Ancient history: Amber frothing at the mouth

Source: Friend Cathy's FB post about her dog rubbing and pawing at her face, and she found a stick that required a vet visit.

This medical emergency with my first dog, Amber, sticks in my mind and makes my heart jump even half a century later. 

She was about 2, and we went camping with friends. She was off-leash in the group campground and suddenly I noticed that she was frothing at the mouth, pawing at her face, rubbing her face on the ground--the frothing terrified me: What kind of poisonous thing had she  ingested?! Because what else could it be? As an inexperienced dog owner, I initially didn't know what to do, but eventually put my fingers into her mouth and found some small piece of bone that she had found and it had become wedged in her upper jaw, between the left and right side. 

Fortunately I was able to gradually work it out and there was no permanent damage. But I still remember that moment of horror and terror when I first saw her. Yes, as a relatively new dog owner, every little thing  that went wrong became traumatic for my poor heart.

I'm skipping over the part where, when she was about 3-4 months old, I looked out into the back yard and she was standing listlessly, head and tail drooping, taking slow, unsteady steps, and drooling. Human Mom rushed out to her and she did respond a bit. I managed to get her into the house and, in the process of setting her down, noticed that little bumps covered her stomach. Exploring: Her whole body. Hives?! I figured it was an allergic reaction to something. Fortunately was able to get her to the vet right away, and she was already feeling a little better by the time we got there. I don't recall their treatment, maybe a shot of prednisone or something? They thought maybe a bee or wasp sting. 

Fortunately I never saw that reaction again. And, for the 7 years I lived in a house whose yard border was covered with shrubs with those red hairy flowers that attract bees, she would stand out there for hours, trying to catch the bees (and sometimes succeeding).

Apparently I'm not skipping that part.

That's all  there is for now...

Amber,  at about the age of the allergic reaction.

Crates, Ex-Pens (X-Pens), and Harnesses

SUMMARY: The topic goes on and on

From comments on my posts from the previous 2 days--

RATZ -- I'm sure that I have some relevant photos, but they're old enough that they'd be on film, so I'll have to look thru albums and boxes and scan them in. Which I'm not going to do tonight, sooooo no photos mostly for now.

I responded to a comment on my post "About Crates vs X-Pens For Dogs, My History Thereof"  about a friend's dog and crates and all that, and that her Katie was annoyed that she didn't get to sit loose in the front seat--

Mean humans! 

I didn't start using crates in the car until I adopted Tika. 

Four or five years previously I had finally become smart about restraining dogs in the car, given how many miles I traveled with them and at odd hours and in all weather and a long way from home. Remington and Jake started riding in very sturdy, well-tested seatbelt harnesses and by the time Tika came home, they had become used to that restraint. They were getting up in age and so I didn't want to start trying to get them used to traveling in crates, although by then they were plenty accustomed to staying in crates at trials. (And Remington loved standing up the entire time we were driving, particularly looking for cows-- couldn't take him away from that.) 

In fact, getting Tika and deciding that all future dogs would travel in crates was the impetus to get a minivan instead of a fun-to-drive car like my prior ones. Sigh. Soooo practical--because a crate wouldn't fit into my four-door sedan along with 2 other dogs on seatbelts and all that agility gear. 

About whether to leave a dog in the car while, say, walking courses, or working in a different ring or whatnot: Getting a dog accustomed to being crated for longer times I think requires that the dog receive plenty of practice while they are aware of where you are and then gradually increasing times when they can't see you. At least, that's how it has worked for my previous dogs. Zorro and my late Chip haven't had nearly enough of that kind of practice. They'll sleep in crates in my bedroom at night, but if I get up and go downstairs, say in the middle of the night, without them, I don't trust them to not claw holes in the mesh of the soft crates. 

Which Remington did the first time I left him alone (with Jake) in my tent to walk to the nearest water faucet in the campground. 

Dogs.

But, yep, like Katie, they'd all rather be in the seats, preferably the front, if they had a choice.

Still, for a long time, if I were simply tooling around the area on errands, the  dogs could usually be trusted to be loose in the car so they could look out the windows. Although--lesson learned--one errand I thought would take me 15 minutes and instead became more like 3 hours, and Tika, alone in the car, explained that she didn't care for that so much.

I lived with this reminder for the next 11 years.

Then I noted:  Hmmm, this feels like I just wrote another related blog post right here! ... and so here it is--rewritten and expanded a bit! 

Memories of Lean-tos

SUMMARY: Not really Wordless Wednesday

My father is gone. We've been going through everything in the house with my mom's help.

Ah, the Adirondacks, where they met and spent their honeymoon and managed two lodges and took us kids hiking and camping. Lean-tos are a big part of that memory.

If you ever read Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, these are the huts he refers to.

Found this watercolor of a lean-to that my mom used to display. Source unknown.

Here's mom camping at a lean-to when she and dad were dating, Dad behind camera.

All of us out for a day hike (plus at right a lanky neighbor teenager sometime-babysitter), Dad behind camera again and his usual giant pack among us.

Dad before we all arrived, not in a lean-to, but undoubtedly near one.