08-05-2022, 10:16 AM
LCF and I went to Auburn to visit a writer friend Rebecca for a couple of days.
While there, we went on a hike in the surrounding hills, within sight of the the Foresthill Bridge and the No Hands Bridge. Auburn is known for its Gold Rush history. The trail ascended steeply in places, rough with jagged rocks and stones, some embedded, some loose. This posed a challenge for me, balance-wise, and I hope I didn't slow things down too much.
Rebecca brought along McKracken, their Belgian Melanois (maybe with a speck of shepherd). Before we left the house, Rebecca told McKracken to go get his leash. He fetched it from the leash-bin in an instant, anxious to go.
On the trail up a ways, Rebecca let him off-leash, and he ran on ahead. But he's trained to always stay in sight, so never too far. Squirrels were the big problem. He'd spot one and want to go after it, not fully cognizant of the fact that going off-trail meant a steep embankment. Rebecca would give the command, "Stay," when she saw him looking out at something. Sometimes McKracken would stop to chew at a paw. "Wait," Rebecca would say. He'd stop chewing and wait for us to catch up to look at his paw. Usually it was a foxtail, which we could remove before it got embedded too far. At one point LCF gave him a closer inspection for burrs and stuff and found one tick--not yet feeding.
When we got back down to the car, our shoes and socks and lower pants were caked in a yellow dust. "That's how Auburn got its name," Rebecca told us. Upon reflection, I wonder how close the city came to being called Yellow Ochre.
One day we spent time in the pool. Of course, McKraken joined us. If you throw a tennis ball in the pool, he goes after it. He always circles to the shallow end to jump in. Rebecca kept trying to get him to jump in the deep end, but he wouldn't. Rebecca says it's a limitation because of the way they trained him, and they'll now have break him of the habit. She says the only time he's gone in the deep end is when he gets the zoomies circling the pool and cuts a corner too close at the deep end. One time when we threw the tennis ball in, it sank, and McKracken kept paddling around, looking for it. "Uh-oh," said Rebecca. Because he won't give up until he finds it. She had to fake throwing a ball out of the pool and telling McKracken to go get it to coax him out.
Oh, and a couple of times LCF dived under and came up, and McKraken immediately made a bee-line towards her. Rebecca explained, "If you go under, he thinks you're in trouble. Now you have to let him save you." So LCF had to grab hold of the fur on his back and let him tow her to the shallow end. Oddly, Rebecca doesn't know where he learned this behavior.
Rebecca makes money in a number of ways. She runs a small farm with chickens, sells jams from various fruit trees, and harvests almonds from an almond tree. Recently she acted as manager to help an octogenarian market his writing. He had written over a thousand pages about a family's adventures during the Gold Rush era but didn't know what to do with it. She helped him package it as a trilogy, working out resolutions for each book, helped him compose a cover letter, and a publisher bought it. When the publisher asked him for suggestions for the cover, he gave so much guidance that they finally suggested that he do the cover himself. Which he did. LCF and I met him briefly. He's impressive. A retired animator who's done work for Disney and others (search Frank Nissen on IMDB), he just decided late in life to do some writing--based on a lifetime of exploring these hills and his extensive knowledge of Gold Rush times.
Now Rebecca is coaching him on how to present himself at book signings, and has helped him set up a web page and a facebook presence.
https://m.facebook.com/Frank-Nissen-Auth...035794193/
On the last morning, we went for a walk out past blackberry bushes in the back yard. It leads to a creek brimming with water (Auburn has never had to impose water rationing). The creek is edged by a trail, and we followed it for a mile or two, with McKracken occasionally taking dips and drinking to stay cool. At the few roadways we encountered, McKraken would always stop, wait for Rebecca, who would make him sit, then heel in crossing the road. Then there'd come the moment when she'd say, "Go." And McKracken would be off like a rocket.
It was a nice weekend.
While there, we went on a hike in the surrounding hills, within sight of the the Foresthill Bridge and the No Hands Bridge. Auburn is known for its Gold Rush history. The trail ascended steeply in places, rough with jagged rocks and stones, some embedded, some loose. This posed a challenge for me, balance-wise, and I hope I didn't slow things down too much.
Rebecca brought along McKracken, their Belgian Melanois (maybe with a speck of shepherd). Before we left the house, Rebecca told McKracken to go get his leash. He fetched it from the leash-bin in an instant, anxious to go.
On the trail up a ways, Rebecca let him off-leash, and he ran on ahead. But he's trained to always stay in sight, so never too far. Squirrels were the big problem. He'd spot one and want to go after it, not fully cognizant of the fact that going off-trail meant a steep embankment. Rebecca would give the command, "Stay," when she saw him looking out at something. Sometimes McKracken would stop to chew at a paw. "Wait," Rebecca would say. He'd stop chewing and wait for us to catch up to look at his paw. Usually it was a foxtail, which we could remove before it got embedded too far. At one point LCF gave him a closer inspection for burrs and stuff and found one tick--not yet feeding.
When we got back down to the car, our shoes and socks and lower pants were caked in a yellow dust. "That's how Auburn got its name," Rebecca told us. Upon reflection, I wonder how close the city came to being called Yellow Ochre.
One day we spent time in the pool. Of course, McKraken joined us. If you throw a tennis ball in the pool, he goes after it. He always circles to the shallow end to jump in. Rebecca kept trying to get him to jump in the deep end, but he wouldn't. Rebecca says it's a limitation because of the way they trained him, and they'll now have break him of the habit. She says the only time he's gone in the deep end is when he gets the zoomies circling the pool and cuts a corner too close at the deep end. One time when we threw the tennis ball in, it sank, and McKracken kept paddling around, looking for it. "Uh-oh," said Rebecca. Because he won't give up until he finds it. She had to fake throwing a ball out of the pool and telling McKracken to go get it to coax him out.
Oh, and a couple of times LCF dived under and came up, and McKraken immediately made a bee-line towards her. Rebecca explained, "If you go under, he thinks you're in trouble. Now you have to let him save you." So LCF had to grab hold of the fur on his back and let him tow her to the shallow end. Oddly, Rebecca doesn't know where he learned this behavior.
Rebecca makes money in a number of ways. She runs a small farm with chickens, sells jams from various fruit trees, and harvests almonds from an almond tree. Recently she acted as manager to help an octogenarian market his writing. He had written over a thousand pages about a family's adventures during the Gold Rush era but didn't know what to do with it. She helped him package it as a trilogy, working out resolutions for each book, helped him compose a cover letter, and a publisher bought it. When the publisher asked him for suggestions for the cover, he gave so much guidance that they finally suggested that he do the cover himself. Which he did. LCF and I met him briefly. He's impressive. A retired animator who's done work for Disney and others (search Frank Nissen on IMDB), he just decided late in life to do some writing--based on a lifetime of exploring these hills and his extensive knowledge of Gold Rush times.
Now Rebecca is coaching him on how to present himself at book signings, and has helped him set up a web page and a facebook presence.
https://m.facebook.com/Frank-Nissen-Auth...035794193/
On the last morning, we went for a walk out past blackberry bushes in the back yard. It leads to a creek brimming with water (Auburn has never had to impose water rationing). The creek is edged by a trail, and we followed it for a mile or two, with McKracken occasionally taking dips and drinking to stay cool. At the few roadways we encountered, McKraken would always stop, wait for Rebecca, who would make him sit, then heel in crossing the road. Then there'd come the moment when she'd say, "Go." And McKracken would be off like a rocket.
It was a nice weekend.
I'm nobody's pony.
