Thursday, October 22, 2009

Jumble







Jumble Thoughts:
1. Nesta and I went to a dog park today. Never again. Nesta hid by my side and wanted nothing to do with romping and chasing-only leaving my side to greet some human women. (Loves the ladies) While Nesta laid at my feet, a pitbull approached, lunged and attacked Nesta. In a tizzy, I grabbed the dog by his neck and threw him off my baby. The pit scratched my face drawing blood. With blood running down my face, I grabbed Nesta and rolled. Kind people around tried to help. Nobody copped to the aggressive dog. Loser dog owner. No more dog parks for us.
2. In the year that I've had Nesta, never ever have I seen him show aggression. He has not once beared his teeth and I've never even heard him growl. (And Lord knows, we spend a lot of time together.) He has met plenty of dogs that were not as gentle, been attacked twice. Not even so much as a snarl or a nip. Such a lover.
3. Shepherds just know. Why are Shepherds so attracted to each other? There must be a sacred secret Shepherd bond. While Nesta is not adverse to playing with all dogs, he will select another Shepherd (even a Shepherd mix) to befriend. At the dog show, Nesta knew exactly that Pete and Molly were kin. He only watched Shepherds- Both GSD and Shiloh. There are of course several Shepherds at Search & Rescue. They sit together. They chase together. They bark together. I know another Shiloh that will only play with Nesta. (Refuses to run with his lab brother.) Maybe it's the ears. Maybe it's the smarts...
4. Too many scary movies. As I sat in the October night, hiding for Spence last night, it became painfully clear to me that I have watched too many scary movies. Alone in a corn field (next to an insane asylum) with no radio, flash light, or phone- I was convinced that Malakai from Children of the Corn was sending his minions to collect me. Thought I saw Jason and Michael Myers lurking behind a tree. Swore I heard Raegen and Damian chanting in the distance. I armed myself with a large pile of green walnuts. Nothing says "Stay away evil doers!" like hurling a walnut. Thank goodness Spence is so good at his job. Relief came with that working dog jingle bell and the panting of a happy K9! Love that Spence boy.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Things in the woods

Most of our searches include woods and parks. Paths not often traveled. Secluded areas in which others could hide. Nesta and I have yet to stumble upon a victim but have however tripped over many odd treasures:
Tons of beer bottles and cans. Never the good stuff. It seems that those that drink in the woods prefer Natty Light and forget to bring their recycling container to the party.
Lots of underwear. Yes. Underpants. Only Men's undies though. I have encountered so many pairs of discarded undies that I'm starting to wonder how many people started the day off with underpants and ended the day commando. Gentlemen-What kind of scenario includes taking your underpants off in the woods and not putting them back on? Are they an offering to the woodland creatures? A personal statement of freedom?
Prescription medicine. Specifically antipsychotic drugs. Major stuff. Somehow the patients at Norristown must be escaping and ditching their meds (and underpants) in the woods. Baffles me.
Porn. Yup. Several titles in fact. Maybe the viewer just didn't like the acting.
All of these "teasures" together paint a rather illicit picture of the woods in Eastern PA. No wonder the deer stare at humans with wide eyes.
Let's all hope that if an alien culture ever lands on Earth- they don't start in the woods.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Sunday Search



WARNING. ADULT CONTENT. SENSITIVE MATERIAL.

Nesta and I have joined a Search and Rescue Team. http://www.gpsar.org/index1.html. I have been training for 2 months- twice a week, sometimes +30 hours a week. After proving that I was indeed committed, Nesta was finally invited to train with me. The team often trains at Norristown State Hospital. (A mental institution built circa 1880 consisting of 26 brick buildings all connected underground by tunnels.) I feel protected with the numerous K9's, but get creeped out when the sunsets. I'm still waiting for an escape ghost patient to breath down my neck. All of this leads me to our tasks. Should somebody become lost for what ever reason, the local authorities call GPSAR. We descend on the scene, K9's in tow. Equipped with tools and know how to find a missing person in an orderly and professional manner.

Sunday, we were to train at Fort Washington State Park, but a call came in for a missing man along the banks of Darby Creek. A young man had been out at night partying with some family and some how fallen in the creek. The evening's events included drugs, drinking and some bad decisions. GPSAR arrived at the scene ready to search. Some of the handlers went out on the boats with their dogs while others worked the banks. When I saw the firefighters getting the rescue basket, I knew he'd been found. Dead. My heart sank and the adrenaline which had been surging though my blood turned to fear. I didn't want to see a dead person. But I knew I'd have to face it and learn the procedures of body recovery. A sad part of the job. We walked to the bank of the creek. I followed behind, slinking between the trees and team members, hoping that maybe the task would already be taken care of before I got there. Nope. I watched as they pulled this young man from the river. I suppose that rescue workers have to learn to accept the sight a dead body. This young man had made some bad decisions and now was gone. Life snuffed out. A tragedy for the family. If anything, it was a hard lesson about the gift of life for me. A moment to slow down. Be thankful for everything and moment that we get and-If anybody finds themselves lost or looking, GPSAR will be there to search.