Bart lost his struggle with kidney failure and cancer at 1:30 a.m. this morning. He died peacefully at our bedside with my arm around him. I felt him draw his last breath, and could do nothing else for him but bury my face in his fur and give him one last final kiss.

Good Bye sweet Bartie…friend; loving companion; water dog; the World’s Most Beautiful Bernese Mountain Dog. I hope you find a good wading spot.
March 1, 1999 - January 16, 2007

Monochrome? No, not really. I took these photos around 4:15 this afternoon. It’s been raining, drizzling, misting, and then the fog rolled in. Creepy. Grey. Dark. Damp. Our trees and woods take on a different persona. I stand outside and hear things dripping and other odd noises I am not familiar with. The ground squelches beneath my shoes. A word, sploppy, comes to mind.  I shot these images because I felt compelled to. I don’t normally do two posts in one day, but I had to. I did not add filters, or alter them in any way. They are as I took them. The only color to be seen is in the first photo, and you can just make out the greenness of the moss growing on the trunk on the closest tree. The second and third photos are ‘my’ tree that I wrote about just the other day. Now you can admire it in a whole new light. ehr...or lack [of light] thereof. I can’t wait to see it draped in snow.

It’s been a rough four days. Our dog, Bart, is on what I would call a slippery slope. There is no way back up for him, and every day he slips down a little more. But then he surprises us, and just this morning walked down the stairs with the rest of the dogs and nearly made it down the front steps. Rick has been carrying him up and down the stairs, both inside and out, for several days now. He really is not much more than skin and bones. Bart is dealing with kidney failure and cancer at the same time. To watch his courage in the face of what he is going through is inspiring.

Bart just doesn’t have enough energy to do much on his own. We spoon feed him baby food three to four time per day. We’ve been giving him subcutaneous fluids since Thursday, and I think they help him to stay hydrated and feeling somewhat more comfortable.

Why not just euthanize him now? you might ask. Well, we feel it’s not what Bart wants. We’ve gone through many deaths with our dogs over the years and have always gone by our ‘gut’ feelings. Each one has been different and under their own set of circumstances. Especially if we thought the dog to be in pain or under undue stress from his or her condition, then we would have to decide to act. Bart does not appear to be in any pain. He just lies there quietly. When we say his name, his cute little brown eyebrows still shoot up and he looks at us. He’s still in there. Everytime we pass by wherever he happens to be laying we give him a pat, some sweet words and a kiss.

It’s not easy. But as ‘parents’ it’s what we do. Sure it would be easier on us and more convenient if we were to just euthanize him now. Would it be easier on him too? We have no way of knowing. All we can do is hope we are reading him correctly and give him his wish to live out what is the rest of his life at home. With us. Where he’s been since the day he was born.

Think Like a Tree
by Karen I. Shragg

Soak up the sun
Affirm life’s magic
Be graceful in the wind
Stand tall after a storm
Feel refreshed after it rains
Grow strong without notice
Be prepared for each season
Provide shelter to strangers
Hang tough through a cold spell
Emerge renewed at the first signs of spring
Stay deeply rooted while reaching for the sky
Be still long enough to
hear your own leaves rustling.

My favorite tree stands majestically in our front yard, right outside the window of our office. It’s an oak, but I’m not sure which variety. Perhaps a pin oak. I spread seed on the ground beneath its great height for the birds. The other morning as I was completing this daily task,  I happened to look straight up. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue with not a cloud in it and I knew I had to capture the beauty of its scores of twisted, gnarly branches.

I am really seeing it for the first time. We moved to our new home just last April and within a few weeks the trees had leafed out, so I had no opportunity to study it. In summer it’s beautifully lush and green and its dense foliage provides good shade coverage. Devoid of its leafy covering the tree’s structure is laid bare for all to admire. Limb after limb, branch upon branch, all intimately intertwined and connected to the mother tree trunk like so many arms and fingers.

Its bountiful branches provide shelter and perching spots for the various species of birds that inhabit my yard. Woodpeckers tap at its bark. Squirrels race up and down and around and around its mighty trunk.

The poem that I found [above] seems to say it all. Why can’t we all be more like trees? Isn’t Mother Nature grand?

After note: The birds are: Blue Jay, Tufted Titmouse, Cardinal, Red-Bellied Woodpecker. Exactly what kind of squirrel; unknown.

Rick warned me. He didn’t think putting a bird feeder with a suet cake on the deck was a good idea. We had the hook already there from the hummingbird feeder. So, why not? The little titmice and nuthatch quickly found the new food and were fun to watch. The cats thought it was a good idea too as it made for improved bird watching, cat-style. Obviously, you as readers can already tell what’s coming. At least you have fair warning, whereas I did not. I have said many times that I wish I had a camera in my forehead that I could just trigger to catch certain photos. This was one of those times.

It was just after noon-ish. I walked into our sunroom which has large picture windows and sliding glass doors on both sides. We have two levels of deck with stairs leading down to the back yard. Here, let me show you as Sam [the Maine Coon] helps me demonstrate:

Okay, see the deck railing just behind Sam and the stained glass? What I saw when I came into the sunroom was one of the bear cubs standing [yes all four feet] on the railing, looking right at me. His head was just above where Sam’s head is. He looked just about as surprised as I was. I was so shocked and surprised that I did what most people would do. I screamed. I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t have time to think about my reaction. When I screamed the dogs started barking. I saw the other bear cub at the feeder [which would be right in back of that section of wall between the two windows]. The cubs took flight and all I could see was the paw of the one that had seconds ago been standing on the railing. His paw clung to the railing for a second; then he was gone.

It’s quite a drop so I was hoping it wasn’t hurt. Nope, not hurt, there is Ursa down in the yard and there go the two cubs running for the woods. Darn, missed that photo opportunity with my big mouth. But all I could think of at the moment was that the bears did not belong on my deck a few feet away from my house. You can visualize it for yourselves though, can’t you?

I gathered what was left of my wits about me and dashed for the camera. I went out on the deck to take a look. The bears were in the woods, but Ursa was heading back towards the yard. I waited. Sure enough, they entered the yard again. Ursa knew I was there; she looked me straight in the eyes.

She and I have an understanding of sorts. She knows my scent from our earlier encounters in the yard, and she knows it was me that dropped suet down to her when we thought she was stuck in the storm drain. It’s creepy, but there is definitely a connection. She knows I mean no harm, and in return she does none. For a person that has had a terrible fear of bears her whole life, I find my reaction to this bear and her cubs very strange. I named her Ursa after the run-in with the dogs we had earlier in the year. If you missed that post here is the explanation of her name. So, it just follows that I’ve now dubbed the cubs ‘Major’ and ‘Minor.’

They stayed and played awhile and what follows is a photo journal of their visit. I hope you enjoy it. I had to shoot fast, so I set the camera on the sport setting to minimize the blur from their movement.

Ho hum. I kind of like this yard. Let’s stay for awhile.

Hey, what is that lady doing up there? Is she watching us?

Hey, look, cool…a dog toy!

tag…you’re it!

I’m gonna get you now…

okay, let’s dance…but who’s going to lead?

oh, alright…you can lead…

After about ten minutes the cubs started to come up the yard and I knew they were headed for the deck again. So, I took the feeder off the post and looked Ursa straight in the eyes. I said, ‘Okay Ursa, that’s enough. There is nothing more for you here. You should go now.’ She turned towards the woods and ambled off with Major and Minor right behind her.

While I was on the phone telling my mom about my encounter, I looked out towards the back of the yard and noticed the gate looked like it was open. Yikes. Good thing I had not let the dogs out yet. Sure enough, the gate was open enough for the bears to either come in or go out, and the dogs as well. The latch had been tampered with and it wasn’t catching anymore. I put a bungie cord on it to hold it closed. They’ve always just come over the fence before, not the gate! And, the other thing I want to know is did they use the stairs to get on the deck? Or did they climb up one of the poles? The dogs gave the yard a good sniffing when I finally let them out and Alex went right to the gate. So, they must have gained entry via the gate this time. Clever, brazen bears.

Post note: As an afterthought I found this website and learned more about our resident black bears.