goin' to the country store for breakfast

Before anyone awoke, I left early to get some more smokes and treat myself to breakfast. Outside, the truck was covered with ice, the road slippery with "black ice" (which I'd never seen before). So with only two wheel drive and sliding every now and then, I had to stop and check the conditions about a half mile down.

At the store, the unusual weather was the topic of conversation. I ordered my eggs and ham and picked up the local paper while I waited. There it was, the "Pet Issue" with 13 pages of photos of pets. Dogs, cats, lizards, horses and chickens - lamas and squirrels, while I sat wondering how, from my current situation, how can one afford these animals.

Page 3, of the Point Reyes Light, always has the "Sheriff's Calls" - and in rural communities, there seems to be plenty. Over a weekly period, it amounts to 40 some reports. One in particular;

Saturday, December 26th
POINT REYES STATION
"At 9:10 am someone said a woman had handed him (or her) the number for the Sheriff's Office and asked that the caller get her a ride. Deputies told the woman she could leave town on the stagecoach, the same way she rode in".

all of us gettin' worn out

What I thought was goin' to be Knuckle's holiday, Holidays, has turned out not to be so.

Six repetitive days now, Knuckle's and I have spent our time driving 20 miles, waiting, napping - shuttled in and out of exam rooms, poked, prodded, belly-shaved, X-Ray'd and Ultrasounded, IV'd with fluids, with cultures cultured and numerous "panels" sent out to labs. In return, we've been hugged, petted and medicated - and almost drained of all available funds.  We've met every sweetheart staff and caring employee - all of the receptionists, nurses and techs, the 'on-duty' veterinarians, internists and radiologists. With his temperature continuously hovering around 105 degrees - he's not well. And, he's not feeling it.

On today's checkout, an incoming dog's owner glanced over at Knuckles silently shivering, and mentioned, "He looks like a Ridgeback, without the ridge".  And, all I could was, "That's why we're here, to get his Ridge back.

missing my hometown

Sitting yesterday, and waiting patiently in Marin County's Animal Hospital, I had plenty of time to read all the provided periodicals. I went through the "local" print, all the way to the national's, and finally saw this featured in last week's Time Magazine - a political rally in Sarasota.

For unknown reasons, beyond a Sarasota 'inside' connection, Donald Trump's, Florida presidential campaign office is located in my hometown.

Sad, but I still love the circus.

worried and saddened

Spent the last two consecutive nights in the animal ER with my road buddy.

For the past week, Knuckles has been lethargic, not eating and shivering. Thought it might be just from the cold, wet weather. Well, they found a very a high fever, but his blood work showed no sign of infection (unremarkable) and / or any possible tick related issues. For two nights now, Knuckles has been leaving the hospital after having IV's, a liter of fluid. Their concern is with his organs. Tomorrow morning an Internist is scheduled and will perform ultrasounds, looking for possible tumors.

Returning home last night, around 2:00 am returning back to our cabin, a large bunny with big ears panicked across the dark road in front of us, darted back, and ended up under my front wheel. Got home and lifted Knuckles out of the truck, back to his bed where he now spends the majority of his day.

Tomorrow we should have a better prognosis

post script;  Sunday - the good news, the ultrasounds came back negative for tumors or abnormalities. They believe it is viral. If he doesn't improve in the next day or two, back for chest and heart X-rays. I still have to lift him in and out of the truck, but he's lost so much weight, that it's manageable. It's just hard to watch him shivering, shaking, and not eating, drooling.  Now, he's my sick buddy.

Merry Christmas from Target

ferrying into the city on a chilly, wet night

for Bella's 11th birthday dinner, at her favorite Thai restaurant.

the "christmas" spawn

Or, as a local biologist referred to it as.

The wild, endangered Coho salmon’s furthest most southern spawning occurs here locally, right down the road - and, right up the creek. I met a young fishery biologist, Catie Clune, yesterday, who walked me through the difficult and arduous task these fish take annually. Through their 23 mile migration, from the Pacific in late October and early November, to the upper reaches of nearby, Lagunitas Creek - where they finally lay their eggs and die - and all, at this same predictive time, every Christmas.


 Early morning, over Lagunitas (Papermill) Creek.

Natural log jams, creating pools and diverging waters, necessary for spawning salmon.

A large female (about 24 inches) creates an ideal nesting area referred to as her "redd".  Her (white) tail fin shows the wear-and-tear from stirring up the loose gravel bottom, prior to laying her eggs.

Another female behind her nesting area, just prior to laying her eggs. Generally, an oval-to-round depression, created by days of periodic laying on her side and the beating of her tail along the bottom.