It was a cloudy day early on; it was a thunderous day mid-day; it was a sunny day for about 48 seconds and then it was a cloudy day with sporadic rainy periods.  It is time for July to regain its momentum.  Even Mort the pond frog seems nonplused by this weather.  The foliage on the property rivals the rain forest and the flowers that have managed to bloom are holding those blossoms forever.   The strawberry season has lasted long beyond its stale date with the cool temperatures that followed the hot sun of late June.  Jam is plentiful at Regalridge.  Our Ken is frantically pulling weeds but keeping up is an impossibility.  The pond garden is in his sites now that the wood oven garden is complete.  And complete it is.  The gate and associated wrought iron connector is in place and functioning beautifully.  The lovely red Adirondack chairs are comfortably placed with a view of the oven's innards and the river rock is strategically aligned with the borders.  Planters abound and it appears geraniums have surfaced in new pots for fall colour.  Even the fountain is offering up its gurgling stream of water.  Lee spent the day supporting Ken's projects and sorting paperwork for the kennel club.  Much progress was made.


The dogs are disinterested in this latest project, even though it is within their sphere of influence.  They march past the gate without pause and, other than the Cirneco, have no interest in the area.  The Hound, of course, has to be part of everything that takes the people's attention.  She has managed to try out the chairs and trot through the garden paths, much to Our Ken's dismay.  Old Dolly is doing well, eating her meals, enjoying treats and marching to her own drummer in the yards.  Clint improves daily.  Still glued to Lee, he is nevertheless able to move freely, has regained some momentum when the need arises (barking visitors are a great incentive) and is eating almost at his usual level.  Billy and Rocky are warmly encouraging his rehabilitation and repatriation to the kennel.  The little Welsh continue to beetle around, keeping their noses busy as they supervise every activity they are able to see.  Marguerite the outdoor dog keeps a close eye on the gates and is the quintessential doorbell of Regalridge.   She misses nothing. 


The kennel is busy with visitors.  Fiddler's rock and roll has morphed to a yodel.  He is a party boy and enjoys a high level of activity in his neighbours.  He misses Buddy who departed Sunday.  Shadow is enjoying the yard next to the young Airedales.  He has been coming to the kennel for years and has his own expectations and routine that must be followed.  The week end will see a full kennel with a mix of Toys, Terriers, Herding dogs and mixes.  Most have been vacationing with us for many years and trot happily up the drive to their suites. 


The news of the day, however, is the wood oven.  Curing was completed yesterday and the inaugural meal prepared this evening.  Back ribs were the request of Our Ken.  The fire building went very well with maple that was dry and burned perfectly.  The timing of the heat cycle was a bit off so juggling of the wood and meat occurred with a resultant slower than anticipated finish time.  All in all, though, the meal was a success with tremendously tasty, beautifully flavoured ribs.  On a side note, those who know Our Ken know that he is pack rat extraordinaire.  Lee had a rack for the ribs - great planning until she realized it is too large for the oven.  Considering her options, she mentioned to Ken that she needed a cast iron rack and off he marched.  Around the garage, out the back gate and toward the back forty he went, returning with a cast iron rack - perfect size, perfect weight, perfect for ribs.  And nothing will ever, ever, ever be thrown out again . . .

Summer is flying by - at least in theory.  The weather this week has been cool and, on occasion, damp.  The dogs are amused by degree.  The Cirneco does not do wet.  No wet feet, no wet head; Ms Trebia simply does not approve water falling from the sky.  Preference for rainy days would be sitting on a lap with a blanket at the ready in case of a sudden chill.  The Airedales and Welsh are far more stoic.  Clint continues to make slow and steady progress.  His appetite has improved but the activity level and interest in more than a slow wander around the yard with Lee is the best he can do.  The rest are perking along, managing the property and setting the rules for the visitors.  Billy has been somewhat less welcoming of Clint in the house - in Rocky's spot in the den.  Rocky shrugs it off but Billy has taken affront on his behalf. 


The swallows have flown and are enjoying their freedom as they learn from their parents how to hunt and gather insects throughout the neighbourhood.   They occasionally return to roost over the door but are busy through the day taking instruction and readying themselves for their trip south.  Other feathered babies are appearing at the feeders.  Less enterprising (and less useful) than the swallows, the baby doves, starlings, finches and catbirds are now in evidence.  Most are collegial but the odd bad tempered fellow is showing his colours as each determines his schedule and favourite seed from the bounty presented by Our Ken.  Mort the frog is maintaining the pond but looks increasingly alarmed as it threatens to overflow its banks.  More rain is not needed.  The most interesting moment of the week occurred early yesterday morning.  Lee was out and about shepherding Old Dolly into the house when an odd sound came from overhead.  The resident crows were talking but in a voice that was unknown - since they have been in residence for three decades, a new voice was startling.  Searching for the reason and looking to the usual post of our family crows, the reason was immediately evident.  Sitting regally at the top of the oak tree, the usual perch of the crows, was a massive bald eagle, surveying the Regalridge domain as well as the local environs.  A quick re-entry to the house of the Welsh puppies was in order and Our Ken was dispatched to encourage Mrs Eagle to find alternate accommodation. 


The gardens are soggy.  End of garden update.


The kennel continues to welcome summer campers.  Buddy is here for his week end pilgrimage.  His flagpole tail is waving over the heads of the Airedales in the adjoining pen.  Shadow has just departed, happy to see his owners after a trip to the frozen island of Newfoundland.  What a dreadful July they are having on the Avalon.  The Hipsons have a new Labrador - a fabulous girl and in Our Ken's estimation, the best of the several they have had with us over the decades we have been here.  Sochi departed this week after a long sojourn.  He is a great little Welsh - Tim and Elke have managed his transition into adulthood well.  A couple of Chantelle's little ones are here while she vacations at her cottage.   Rumour has it that it is less soggy there than here and that is likely a good thing since Miss Matilda is not fond of water falling from the sky.  Fiddler arrived today with a grin and kick of his heels. 


The fruit stand opposite is replete with early summer vegetables.  Hodge podge has now happened.  Reg and Tim have arrived, so a meal of grilled rib eye (Hants county beef), hodge podge and a lovely open strawberry pâte brisée tart landed on the table.  And the rain continues . . .

 Clint is on the mend.  The remaining offending material miraculously appeared last evening.  Now we watch his progress and enjoy each hard earned step forward.  He is eating well and his innards are functioning properly.  Now it is time and careful management.  The enforced confinement in the house seems to suit - he doesn't mind the lead walks nor is he chafing to go play with his buddies, sensible fellow that he is.  Billy, on the other hand, is ticked at being in steerage rather than first class.  His discussion of the insult is regular and highly indignant.  Our Ken (the light of Billy's life) avoids anything dealing with Bill until he is let out of the ignominy - Ken has sacrificed and taken on the 'open the gates' role.  What a guy !  The rest of the crew are a bit perplexed by the change in the house.  Trebia tries to live in or on Lee and takes exception to any of the others in close proximity.  Marguerite is Lee's shadow, moving around the Cirneco as needs be and assisting in the daily chores in typical Marguerite fashion - that paper covering the floor was simply an attempt to tidy the area, right Marguerite?  The puppies are applying for their engineering equivalency, having supervised the installation of the wood oven and now the gate project.  In Canada, engineers wear an iron ring on their little finger.  Will have to call the university to get two made in size 0.


The wood oven project continues.  The gate installation has required that Lee be summoned on a regular basis to hold various and sundry parts, for what purpose only Our Ken knows.  There appears to be no forward momentum but there certainly has been adequate study.  Photos of parts were sent to Tony today.  Progress is imminent.  Curing continues.  Rain is not assisting. 


It is flight school day.  While it was a 'taking your life in your hands' moment previously with parents swooping in and out to feed the brood, there are now six little characters learning how to use their wings.  Some are more steady than others.  All can now balance on the flagpole on the deck, the wind chimes and the railing.  the chirping has been a symphony all afternoon.  They are now divided in  groups of three in the eaves over the door now that dusk has arrived.  How they ever fit in that little nest is one of life's eternal mysteries.  After the morning showers, the roses were trimmed and the gardens spruced.  The scent of the tea roses is fabulous.  One had to come in to grace the kitchen. 


The kennel continues to rock.  Zeus is leading the chorus.  Mason and Scout departed for Digby, each guarding one of the very large and very impressive Best Baby Puppy In Show ribbons that Matilda garnered on the week end.  It appears Chantelle's vehicle needed those to be able to head on vacation.  Good thing little Matilda won big. 


Dinner last evening was a summer delight.  New potatoes, garden spinach, grilled chicken with a peach compote and fruit salad made up a lovely meal.  Earlier in the day there was a blackened chicken pasta with olives and bacon.  Our Ken was pleased.  And on we go.

We are on the mend.  Clint is rebounding nicely, is home and eating well (Our Ken's barometer of dog health is food intake - nothing more - simply food intake).  You, too, are looked askance if you are eating but malingering, if you complain but are able to take nourishment.  So, fair warning.  Clint is, of course, in the den so Lee is able to be with him constantly.  That means his nemesis, Billy the Barking Airedale, is restricted to quarters.  That does not impress Billy greatly; his sense of insult is only made worse by the fact that Clint has pride of place while he languishes in the room next door.  Rocky, too, must be limited since he and Clint are not close, but he doesn't care.  Give Rocky a blanket and the odd milk bone and life is good.  Marguerite is advocating for Billy so feels the need to peer closely at Clint each time she strolls through the room, lifting her lip in an Airedale sneer so plain that poor Clint feels the need to respond in kind.  The dynamics of the house are totally off kilter.  Moving one dog out of his own area makes the whole shooting match a circus. 


The kennel is rocking.  With a gaggle of boarding Welsh of all ages, a newly arrived Doodle, the omnipresent Shadow and a Norwich who should be but is not yet hoarse, even Elton John would be envious of the range of the company.  He would be less impressed by the pitch, I fear.  Generally it is Mason who leads the chorus but that particular little fellow has been planted in number three yard next to the Airedales.  He has developed a lovely circuit to keep the bigger dogs exercised to his satisfaction and has been so busy that he has forgotten to exercise his lungs at the same time.  Score one for Our Ken! 


The little swallows continue to work tirelessly as they feed the brood.  From sun up to sun down any who venture near the kitchen door take their lives in their hands.  The six babies are overflowing the nest.  Flight school cannot be far off.  There are baby doves, baby starlings, baby red wing black birds as well as baby squirrels and chipmunks throughout the property.  Horace the little frog occupies the pond and is enjoying the portulaca, the hosta, dahlias and violets as well as the waterfall.  He is a new resident, named by Ken now that he appears to be more than a vagabond simply passing through.


Dinner included grilled steak, caramelized onions, spinach from the garden and baked potatoes with fresh peach compote over ice cream to round out the sharp edges.  And on we go.

Life is never dull

There are adventures aplenty when a dozen dogs are running your life.  Yesterday was no exception.  Our Ken surfaced from his morning kennel routine with a head shake (not likely ear mites) and the comment that 'we may have a problem'.  Apparently the Tuesday evening gardening session was accompanied by an Airedale flight of fancy.  One of the youngsters managed to unscrew the top from a watering can and pass it off to Clint who likely had asked nicely that this be done.  He has always had a penchant for plastic - considering it a food group, perhaps his favourite.  This little escapade was not shared until Clint refused food on Thursday morning.  Clint is not a food snob.  Watching him through the day, there was every possibility that there was not an issue since there  are girls in season and that can cause food disinclination in even the heartiest of eaters.  However, by dinnertime and another snubbed fancy meal, antennae were twitching.  Chantelle's august presence was requested and she and Lee did an exam.  Nothing conclusive.  Clint was then put in a run, had a good drink of water and promptly flowed downward to rest on his knees.  It was an unusual performance and definitely not normal.  Time to call the Vet.  Interestingly, while the technician agreed that he did need to be seen right away, she also advised that there was no time to see him and he would have to be taken to the emergency clinic when it opened an hour and a half later.  After Lee shook her head (no ear mites there either) she decided that a call to the new 24 hour clinic in the city might be in order.  The word on the street is that Four Paws Veterinary Clinic on Lady Hammond Road is well run and impressive.  The bright young woman at the front desk took a phone history and suggested Clint should come for a visit immediately.  Off went the Regalridgemobile (had there been a mention already that Chantelle was in her lovely pj's?) to the city.  The new clinic is, in a word, fabulous.  It is very well equipped, spotless, busy mid-evening and well staffed.  From reception through exam and radiograph, it was a seamless process with complete client involvement.  Dr Emma is a talented and engaged veterinarian with strong listening and communication skills and diagnostic talent.  She begins with the least invasive processes and moves forward with a sensible plan, keeping her client informed and part of the process at every step.  At no point was there a sense that things were not under control.  In the end, surgery was necessary and still the communication continued with a call at 3:30 am (by Lee's request) to provide outcomes and a full explanation of the surgery.  There was certainly every opportunity to have stayed at the clinic through the full process since the clinic is open 24 hours a day.   The surgery was complicated but successful - the various and sundry pieces of plastic had found their way to interesting spots in Clint's digestive system and are now happily resting in a zip lock bag for reference material as we prepare for Clint's lecture.  Lee has visited, taken him out for a slow walk, managed to get him to drink on his own and to take a mouthful of food.  He remains at the clinic on iv and heavily medicated but we are hopeful that he will be able to come home soon.  And there endeth the day's adventure. 


There has been no sleep.


We are punchy, at best, but soldiering on. 

The requests for the blog have become rather overwhelming.  A schedule may be necessary to comply.  All is well at Regalridge.  The Airedales are thriving - from Old Dolly through the youngsters, Heloise and Richmond, all are well and enjoying summer, each in his own way.  Dolly is the ancient among us and sleeps much of the time.  She still enjoys her meals, is mobile in short bursts and plays ball Dolly-style.  Occasionally she manages to get to the Kong before another Airedale and if that doesn't happen, she explains to the interloper the error of her ways.  Most still acquiesce to her top dog status and offer up the Kong, which Dolly now would not deign to touch with her foot much less pick up and return.  That perplexes many.  She has preferred beds (2) and there appears to be a timeline for each.  Should another dog be there at the wrong time, she goes to great lengths to make her move.  The antics run from going to the window and barking with such verve that her feet lift off of the floor (all dogs come running) then turning and taking her bed of choice while the rest are barking with enthusiasm - at what, they have no idea - to simply walking on the unsuspecting relative.  The second bed is not often occupied and seems to be her destination for late afternoon snoozes.  Much less effort goes into that one. 


Avian activity is at full throttle in July.  While other folks are taking a break from tending their feathered friends, the Regalridge birds are not only spending their days at the feeders, but also have their young along to teach them how to train humans.  There could be a book written on the 7 habits of highly effective birds and all would be in evidence here.  The swallows arrived on schedule and have a large nest of babies over the kitchen door in the eaves.  The little ones are growing quickly and are in evidence, little beaks open and at the ready from dawn to dusk.  The parents work tirelessly and the bug supply diminishes - we love those swallows even though it means no lights outside the door so they won't be disturbed from May to September.  Stumbling and falling up and down the steps is the price we pay for the pleasure of having these little ones in residence.  On the opposite side of the house, the Jays, yellow and purple Finches, Doves, Red-wing blackbirds, 2 pairs of Woodpeckers (Downy and Hairy), Starlings, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Catbirds, Sparrows and various and sundry occasional visitors are in evidence all day long.  Phil the pheasant and his bevy of Philomenas have repaired to the fields for the summer.  We hear them but won't see them again until November. 


The kennel is at its usual summer level.  Zeus and Shillelagh have settled in quickly and are re-explaining the kennel rules to all who will listen.  Sochi is here for an extended stay and has taken the kennel vacation in his stride.  He is a great little Welsh and very much enjoys the activity level of the kennel as well as the room to stretch those little legs in the large exercise areas.  Viola and Ivy have also joined the party so it is a Terrier moment. 


The excitement this week is the addition of a Chicago Wood Oven to the property, courtesy of our great friends in the US.  When discussions began surrounding the oven's addition to  the Regalridge cookery, Jo rightly noted that it could be a challenge for Ken from a placement perspective.  Even Jo could not have envisaged Ken's project leading up to the installation.  The entire property (every acre) was assessed for its features that might best support the wood oven placement.  From the front yard to the back run, to the orchard, every area's strengths and drawbacks became apparent.  Our Ken analyzed, organized, changed his mind and, at one stage, it was quite apparent that we would have to move to accommodate the gift.  Finally Lee decided enough and pointed out that it would go outside the kitchen door, in the existing garden but in the area of the puppy run outcrop.  The area that had been decked was undecked (a term that may be unfamiliar to some), the fencing was revised and gravel was ordered.  The error in the gravel piece of the program was that Ken made that call and tonnes of gravel landed, without ceremony, in the middle of the drive.  The project expanded.  A newly surfaced driveway and parking area is now in evidence.  The small amount of gravel needed for the oven project was simply an excuse.  Patio stones became the surface of choice for the oven's final resting place.  God love Tony - on the hottest days of July there he was, putting together the base for the blessed arrival, accompanied by the wonderful Jonathon on one occasion to supply heavy lifting ability.  And then there is the garden.  What had been a casual garden area has become a destination.  There are baskets and planters of annuals, new roses and upgraded perennials; there is a fountain and bird bath, pathway lighting and mulch, mulch, mulch.  There is brick edging and apparently decorative stone is in the offing - all done as a backdrop for the oven.  At present, the curing process is underway.  With luck, there will be wood oven offerings on the table by the week end.  Oh, and Lee has been pressed into painting - interesting achievement on the part of Our Ken.


Dinner tonight will be Sunday revisited.  There is medium rare prime rib, new potatoes with chives, spinach from the garden and a tomato salad.  Strawberry shortcake for dessert.  Last night we suffered through baked ham (Meadowbrook farm), scalloped potatoes with Portobello mushroom and Vidalia onion, spinach and roasted peaches.  And on we go.