Chama River about Double Overnight

Now we need to get home. The first big test of the fire-engine red four-wheel-drive.

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Bitsy in Santa Fe – 130605

130605-SantaFe-ASC_3383RLSsBitsy is snoring fl at out on the fl oor of our little travel trailer, taking up the entire space. She has been bored stiff for the past four days while I, first, slept for two days more or less, and then worked for two days to produce the current blog/podcast, and so today she rejoiced in a whole afternoon of social interactions.

130605-SantaFe-ASC_3391RLSWe arrived a bit early at the end of the rail line in Santa Fe, because we like watching trains come in, and so chose the opportunity for a bit of restful meditation while waiting for the event. Or at least I meditated. She watched and waited for something more interesting to happen. Which it surely did. What fun to meet my cousin Nancy, whom I have not seen since I was more or less about 6 or 8 years old. We had at least two lifetimes to talk about, while Bitsy flirted with every passing dog lover, and finally tried to make friends with the entire trainload of people heading back to Albuquerque.

130605-SantaFe-ASC_3404RLSsNow here I am sitting up late at night, feeling quite hyper, making pictures while Bitsy snores.

We Are Home

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Paying Bills

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Bitsy’s Thanksgiving Holiday

Bitsy Elizabeth misses those dog parks we visited all last summer. Even though she loves riding in the car and otherwise hanging out with me, there is nothing more fun for a holiday bash than meeting new dogs. Especially those dogs who are about her size and like to play.

Bitsy Barked

When they hauled her truck off on the flatbed — again. You remember the last time we hooked the truck up to the horse trailer it died flat just when we got it hooked up and before we could load the washer on board. Because believe me I am not in condition to lift a washer up into a pickup truck. This time we got the trailer attached, backed it straight into a rather tricky place where the washer was, and managed to get the washer into the trailer before the truck died.

Bitsy was angry. She barked at the man who was carrying off her truck, but at least this time we also had a cell phone on hand so we didn’t have to walk all the way back to the car. So maybe we are making progress.

The goal for this weekend was to get the wheel back on the flat trailer and drag some things out — bookshelves, stuff like that. We got the wheel on, but of course without the truck — oh well.  And we are also happy that the tensioner on the car broke LAST week rather than halfway to Dallas.

If you want to hear about our much more carefree last summer go to Bitsy’s Dog Park Diary at http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/3631026.

Those of you who are keeping up with the adventures of Bitsy and her owner as they try to find a healthy home — you will remember the last episode was about trucks and trailers. I had finally gotten them together at the same time and place and was hitching up, when the truck died and had to be hauled off to have its alternator replaced. I thought we did that when we were in Chama? Anyhow, the goal is to get the lawn tractor and the washer moved, but we can’t do this while driving the car.

I’ll leave out the part where the car broke down just when we got the truck back. Isn’t that sweet?

And then, yesterday, truck purring like a kitten, we backed up under the horse trailer, which is good for this job, low enough and wide enough, and needs to be removed from the weed patch. I let down the gooseneck on the truck bed, hooked it up and pulled the trailer forward far enough to see that I had not raised the tailgate before leaving last March or april or whenever it was. The tailgate is extremely heavy from being waterlogged, and my strength has unaccountably diminished over time. OK, I thought, I’ll just drag it around where the washer is.

The short answer is we hit the corner post of the fence (yes, broke it) and couldn’t go any more forward. I can’t back up the trailer with the tailgate down, and I never DID find my two come-alongs that used to be standard equipment in my pickup before I went trailer-parking. So today I’ll try the same recovery method I used when I couldn’t find the chain to haul out the hay. Buy a new one and maybe I will instantly find the old one someplace I wouldn’t have guessed.

Meantime, I managed enough strength to block up the tailgate so it’s not setting on the dirt wicking up water. Assuming any water is left in the dirt.

And for those of you who don’t CARE about the adventures of Bitsy and her owner, tomorrow we will begin a series of the adventures of Amelia in Uganda.

Dog Park Sociology

The dog park turns out to be a fascinating study in relatationships. Would you imagine a young male sled-dog breed with a physically challenged little old lady? Easier to understand is a big dominant man with his laid-back, lolligagging hunting dog. And then there are the terriers and the spaniels and Bitsy and a half-acre dog park that is actually owned by a pair of very dominant quail. Imagine all the compromises and negotiations that are required for harmony in a village where we all live five or six feet apart. So far, all is well, except that Bitsy and I are not very good at the dog park part of it — when and whom can be let loose together? It settles into unwritten schedules.

Anyhow, this was a fun day.

Bitsy’s expressions are easy to read

When she is driving her car from the passenger seat Bitsy has this self-satisfied look, interested in everything, but looking down upon it all, as from a throne. You can see the half-smile in this picture taken while she was in charge of watching the road and I was in charge of driving.

Then we stopped and the stranger got in the car, and I made Bitsy give up her seat and move to the back. She worried about that, trying to decide — who knows what dogs are trying to decide, but sometimes they sneak up behind and nip strangers, and she can be aggressive, so I wanted to be careful. I told her very firmly that she must stay back there and behave. She ducked her head and scrunched down in the seat.

About halfway to our destination (do you think she knows I can see her in the mirror? I had stopped watching) she sneaked around the right side of the passenger seat and licked the stranger three times on the arm, then quick as a flash she was back in her place, sitting upright and looking unusually smug, and she stayed there for the rest of the drive.

Bitsy Loves a Parade