#131- Australian Shepherd Chronicles - Part II

Lately, I've been writing about what it is like to own Australian Shepherds as a family pet. To be honest, I never thought I'd add a dog of this size or character to our family, but there have been multiple reasons that I've been hooked on Aussies. If you haven't read Part I of the Australian Shepherd Chronicles that I posted before this entry, then take a look because it gives more background information.

In addition to the reasons I revealed in Part I, another reason I even considered adding this breed of dog to our household is because we owned acreage and were planning to move out there in a rather short period of time. I didn't want to get another four pound Chihuahua that had a Rottweiler ego, requiring our diligent protection, usually from itself. I wanted to have a dog that was sturdy enough to be let outside and not be carried away by a bird.

An Aussie is a breed of dog is known for being loyal, protective and energetic. And, it's not from Australia.

We bought our first Australian Shepherd from a well known ranch in Texas. After much consideration, we named our dog, "Howdy." Deputy Dave and I had made a long list of names that would go with Texas A&M wordage and "Howdy" had immediately been placed on the top of the list. No one in particular named him "Howdy," but after we had written the name on that list and after everyone kept saying, "...name him 'Howdy' for A&M," we couldn't ignore the number of times people kept bringing up the name "HOWDY!" One day it just clicked and we knew that should be his name. It was meant to be. 

Deputy Dave with Howdy --- he's a few months old, just
off the ranch. Here we are at the Texas A&M Bonfire Memorial.

You see, Texas A&M has a long standing tradition on campus...as you walk around, everyone, friend and stranger alike, will give you a robust greeting as you walk by. The greeting is, "HOWDY!" The first time I was on campus for a walking tour, it was a bit overwhelming to be inundated by all the college kids walking by and saying "Howdy!"

Stefie and Howdy at the Texas A&M Bonfire Memorial.
These days, Stefie was also an Active-Aggie.

The Aggie truth is...as a freshman at Texas A&M, I guess you are politely "threatened" to follow this Aggie tradition...you just better not let an upperclassman pass you by without you saying "Howdy!" There's no doubt that this is a strong tradition that instills powerful camaraderie and a unique bond with fellow Aggies. To this day, if we meet someone, say.......such as a judge who is integral to our unique situation...a simple greeting of "Howdy" can speak volumes. A firm hand-shake, a couple of "Howdy" greetings back and forth with knowing eyes growing larger during the greeting as the handshake gets a bit more firm...and that's all it takes. No one else in the room even picks up on it, except for those inside the "Howdy" loop. No other words are necessary. Seriously. I know this very story from personal experience.

The connections that an Aggie makes are lifetime connections of power and delight. If you are a parent of an Aggie...if you sent your child to Aggie Land for their education, you are included in these lifelong perks because you did your part to get the next generation onto the sacred Aggie soil that is so helpful with building lifelong social skills and networking connections.

This is one of Howdy's puppies.

But, us Aggie fans are not alone in our passion for our school or for our particular team...for any of us who have a competitive university that holds your heart and soul, then you respect and honor your school. Being proud and ready to stand tall for the institutions you believe in is a connecting force. For us, Texas A&M holds much of what is dear to our hearts. For you, it might be Texas Tech or the University of Texas or somewhere else where American passion hits new heights.

Actually, our family has diverse university loyalties...it's always fun in our house during college football.

Each of Howdy's puppies is gorgeous and playful.

So, you now know the background behind "Howdy" the Australian Shepherd. He is incredible fun, but a LOT of high maintenance. If a person is not ready to dedicate nearly every waking moment to his breed of dog, then I would not recommend an Australian Shepherd. They will zap your energy.

A rancher was coming to pick up this puppy. He could
not wait to get his dog. Now, this dog is full-grown and working
on that ranch happily.

The reality with these dogs is that they take about two years to chill out enough before they are able to be consistently dependable and on target with their commands. When they reach about two years old, they are getting to the stage of also developing some independent thinking for decisions that are innate to an Australian Shepherd.

The key is...to have a dog that is strongly mindful with an ability to make proper herding decisions and as well as simultaneously keeping an eye on his master for cues or commands.

Howdy trying to figure out my next move.

And don't let anyone tell you that an Aussie won't protect you. Baloney! Howdy is all action when he senses danger. When danger approaches, if I am standing near him, he positions himself to face the danger while placing his hind-quarters against me, bumping back gently against me while NEVER taking his forward facing confrontational stance off of the danger in front of him.

He makes sure to feel me at his side, yet he will not even turn to look at me because he knows I am there, and he spreads his front legs to prepare for needed leverage, bares his teeth, raises the mass of hair down his back and mane while issuing very clear growling sounds designed to make his protective intentions known to the intruder. I've been in a couple of bad spots here in the city with Howdy at my side and both times he's managed to make the threat think twice about proceeding. If I ever had a doubt about an Australian Shepherd's instinct to protect, I'm not in doubt now.

Howdy heard something in the backyard and went to inspect.

Normally, he's not allowed on the furniture, but there
was a loud sound, he over-rode rules so that he could inspect.
He is actually scanning the yard very carefully.

A few tricks here and there make him happy.

This breed is known for becoming latched onto their family and for sometimes being overly protective. Everyone has good things to say about the breed of dog they love, but I must be honest, about every Australian Shepherd that I've known and lived with...when they love you, they love you, but if they are leery, you'd better steer clear.

This dog is great at issuing warnings, but I've also seen this breed go into attack mode and they do not always feel like attacking and immediately walking away...remember, they have uncanny endurance and this applies to their ability to fight. If they are in the mood to fight, they WILL fight and do so vigorously. Unfortunately, the two dogs I love the most, Tux and Howdy usually end up in ferocious fights at the drop of a pin...no warning, just suddenly they are on their hind legs and everyone better stand back. These two dogs are both "A" dogs, so when Heather comes to visit, there's usually one fight that we cannot prevent. One time, Henry stepped in and he got bit. It's better if you stand back and out of the way...Of course...I'm yelling the entire time, but when dogs are this focused, I know they don't even register my voice. So, don't let anyone tell you that these dogs are not protective type of breeds...oh yes they are.

Since Howdy and Tux don't get to be around each other much, these fights are likely to happen once we put all the dogs together. The main problem is...Howdy has extremely strong instincts. Any Australian Shepherd that has been on a farm or ranch for any length of time while growing up is usually incapable of being a house-pet, but he is a house-pet, but we will never be able to take the strong herding/protective mode out of him.

If one of the other dogs start to get close to me, that's usually when we have a problem. They are good at sending each other non-verbal cues, but since Tux feels as if he has a right to get to me and Howdy feels like he has a right to protect me...we have problems every now and then. The good part is...for the majority of our visits, we have no troubles. I guess they have to set each other straight and then they get to visit nicely for the rest of the time together. It's dog to dog communication that we should also respect.

Howdy getting tired...it's late.

As for socializing your Aussie...it's imperative to constantly expose your Aussie to other animals and people. As my blog readers already know, Howdy is awesome with small children and with farm animals. He lays in the grass in the backyard and lets the chickens peck at him. He is as patient as the day is long.

But, constant training while using a "friendly" voice as a new stranger approaches is important. However, if you want the Aussie to go on instant guard, then do not use the friendly voice and the dog will take care of anyone approaching that you do not wish to see. The bottom line is...you are the dog's lead. Howdy searches my expression for clues as someone comes to our front door, if he sees that I am wary, then he goes into protective mode and makes his presence clear.

However, our dog came directly off of a ranch. His stud father ran the show out there and Howdy was always on his heels. So, our dog was given the chance to build his "wild" and natural instincts for several months before he went into a domesticated household.

Howdy and Deputy Dave.

For the ugly truth, an Australian Shepherd can be destructive. They have a tremendous desire to "work" with their teeth and paws. This means that they can develop anxiety if they are not given regular, consistent exercise and play-time. If not, they will chew off your window sills, destroy your shoes, gnaw on the edge of your sofa and simple find themselves doing mindless destructive things. These dogs must be kept busy and be worn out. And...wearing them out is not easy.

Watching his little sheep.

Bring it on!

Many of these dogs are known to keep running and to keep working, even in the heat of Texas until they drop dead from heat stroke. These dogs don't have an easy to switch "off" button. You must be a strong master to get these dogs to do as they should do for their own health. But, if you need a working dog with a great work ethic, an Australian Shepherd is it. If they are not given constant jobs or tools to keep them busy, they will find something suitable to meet their need. This type of breed is always alert, even when it appears they are resting. Usually, they flip an ear back so that their inner ear is exposed and their eyes will narrow into a noticeable sharpened focus as they become nearly obsessed with figuring out the change in surroundings.

These dogs are great as farm dogs because they are known for having a "soft" bite. This is another innate ability they have so that they are less likely to harm a farm animal in an attempt to herd it.

This part of their nature is very apparent during my treat and training session with all three of our dogs. I have all three dogs line up next to each other, I hold a treat in my hand and each dog has their name stated before I lower the treat and only the dog who had his/her name stated can eat the treat. It works. The dogs are so well trained that they will actually look over at the other dog as they get their treat.

However, the dog we rescued years ago, Lyla, who is part Box or possibly part Pit, is very aggressive when I lower the treat to her mouth. She knows to wait, but once the treat gets close to her gums, she is very assertive in taking it into her mouth. She won't bite me, but I would not recommend another person try to hand-feed her. The Yorkie can be just as patient, yet pretty eager to gulp down the treat, the same as Lyla. But, Howdy...this is when his Australian Shepherd "soft" bite is very evident. He tilts his head to gently take the treat from my hand with his teeth exposed in a manner of great delicacy. Most often, he holds the treat in his teeth precariously before putting it in between his teeth to inspect a bit more closely before allowing himself to proceed with eating.

And Howdy is unlike most dogs who gulp their food quickly, Howdy literally chews. You would think he was savoring a five star meal with each bite. He is a careful consumer! The other dogs usually look on with jealousy as he makes each treat last for nearly an eternity. An Australian Shepherd cannot be rushed during meal-time. This part of them needs to be respected. And it's understandable how many a cowboy could sit with their Australian Shepherd by firelight and share a few bites of food with their dog...this dog is a considerate dinner companion, that is for sure.

Tonight, Howdy went to his dog bowl and saw that it was empty. No one in the house realized it. So what did he do? He took charge...Howdy grabbed the dog container with his huge paw and dragged it out of the corner of the kitchen and toward the living room where we all were sitting. Again, this is not a dog who will sit back and do nothing, he took charge and made sure we understood what he was communicating, "Look! Here is the dog bowl! I've brought it to you so that you can clearly see that it's empty!"  

He got his re-fill.

Needless to say, they got their re-fill right away, thanks to Howdy. The dog bowl is a huge continuous feeder, but it does run dry once in a blue moon. The blue moon tonight was overshadowed by Howdy's working dog nature.

Howdy...he definitely stays up on top of things, better than his human pets at times. What would we do without Howdy? Well, the other two dogs might starve. Actually, they might go hungry for a couple of hours, but Howdy makes sure the food bowl remains a front and central priority. He's doing a good job for himself and for his house buddies.

Good dog.

#129 - Australian Shepherd Chronicles - Part I

A few years ago, my oldest daughter was in the midst of studying for her Biology degree at Texas A&M when she decided that she wanted a dog. I imagined she'd get a sweet little lap dog that could be her tiny buddy in the room she rented off campus.

After some ups and downs, Heather ended up with a six month old Australian Shepherd, a Blue Merle variety who was SUPPOSED to be a "mini" shepherd. Sixty pounds later, we knew this shepherd was no where near a mini. He was HUGE!

My oldest daughter, Heather, and her dog, Tux playing
in our backyard.

Yes, he tagged her. We are not afraid to play rough and tough
with our Australian Shepherds and they LOVE it.
If you have small kids, you DON'T want them running and
playing around with Australian Shepherds in this manner. The kids
will be flattened to the ground and held down as a "herding" activity.

However, this dog captured my heart completely. First of all, this was the first MALE dog I allowed into my home. Why no male dogs up until this point? Well...I had one experience with a male English Bull Dog that cured me from ever wanting a male dog in my home. He was aggressive and slobbery and outright disgusting in every way imaginable...it scarred me for life! haha

Tux...this dog was my first close experience with the Australian
Shepherd breed. I'd never be the same afterward.

Anyway, the Australian Shepherd, Tux...he was a delight. But, he'd also been neutered. To be fair, I do believe that he was fine-tuned by the neutering because he had such keen focus, an obvious sixth, seventh and eighth sense about everything around him and even though he was quite lovable, he did have a fierce protective side that most people would not want to go up against.

Lyla and Tux in a stand-off.
Actually, they are playing.

Tux was staying with us after I'd had a major surgery and my daughter was bogged down with working on her science degree from Texas A&M. Tux stuck by my side. It was as if he knew something was wrong and he didn't want to wander off for anything other than a necessary potty break outside or to quickly eat a few bites of food, then back to my side he would go. Since I was in major discomfort and could not lie down in a regular position, sometimes I would fall asleep on our loveseat with the recliner laid out fully and a very LARGE Tux would curl up on the end of the recliner just so he could be near me. He'd be in the most awkward position, with part of his body hanging off the recliner, but he would sacrifice and lay in this position for hours, in discomfort just to be near me. I'd never seen a dog do such things on this level.

Tux, being his adorable self.

Over time, I began to realize that this dog had keen perception and heightened awareness beyond any dog I'd ever known. Beyond this, not only was Tux more connected to us, he would take unique initiative to be of assistance. I've learned that this breed of dog is in a constant study of their surroundings. If you have Australian Shepherd, you can't take this fact forgranted.

I knew he was labeled as a "working dog" breed, but I did not have an appreciation for what this historic label actually meant. In 2009, after I'd had my 10th rib removed, a large mass removed, then a following disturbing and extremely painful surgery requiring a massive 10x16 tissue transplant to cover the area of rib removal...I had a large, scary incision with staples going everywhere the first time, then the same incision was reopened for the tissue transplant and closed for a second time with stitches. Extra stitches kept the tubes running in and out of my body in place...those "attachments" would become my "buddies" for many weeks.

I was hurting with a capital "H."

It's a good thing that Deputy Dave is not bothered by blood and guts; he was Doctor #1 in the house. Stefie could only run the other direction when it came to anything gory, but she sure made a mean glass of sweet tea. And soon, we'd discover that Tux would become an unintended "assistance dog."

Deputy Dave with Tux at the A&M fun house.

Nervous about being around anyone or anything during my recovery, I found that this dog wanted to be by my side, but he was gentle and calm around me --- as if he knew that he could not even slightly bump into my battered body. He kept a close eye on me and watched me like a hawk; soon I noticed, with an eerie feeling, that this dog was often trying to mimic my movements. The intense focus of an Australian Shepherd as he watches your every move can be a bit unsettling, unless you understand their nature. Indeed, this was the first time I ever saw a dog with uncanny abilities and with an innate desire to be useful.

Henry, my future son-in-law holding Tux.
This is a sign of a good dog, to allow you
to lay it on its back and for it to be submissive to you.

Both of these guys are cute!

Tux at the A&M fun House with his BIG BONE.

Needless to say, I was stunned as Tux began to pick up everything imaginable. Soon, all I would have to do is point to something and say, "Pick Up" and he'd got get it for me. From a book to the newspaper at the street corner, he'd pick it up, retrieve it, get it and hand it over. His determination was incredible. Once, I dropped a fingernail file. Sounds like no big deal, but one morning as I was carefully heading to the kitchen, I dropped this flat Emory board on our tile floor. I stared down at it, wondering how I was going to pick it up. Even I can use the magical toe trick to pick up some things, but an Emory board?

Uh, even I don't have such talented toes. If you are one to pick up things with your toes, then you understand. If not, don't knock it, give it a try. My mother-in-law is REALLY good at this one, but her toes are as long as some people's fingers. For me, I have little feet and stubby toes, but I still use the toe-grasp trick as second nature. Usually I am folding laundry while retrieving the sock I dropped with my right foot...yes I am multi-talented like that. And my kitchen floor, often I will be working in the kitchen while dragging a damp cloth on the floor with cleaner on it to "mop" a little while doing normal things. Again, I am multi-talented at multi-tasking. Parenthood will do that to you.

The Emory board lay on the floor, it would probably have to stay there until someone else got home ---which would mean that I'd be driven stark raving crazy by my hangnail in the six hours home alone...I stared at it, in disbelief that I DROPPED it! Tux nonchalantly walked over, looked down at the Emory board blending in with the tile floor and he took over. He showed his scary intelligence by using one paw to hold an one end of the Emory board firm to the floor as he used a sharp tooth to pry the other end upward. Then, he slid the other paw under the lifted end so he could get a better grip on it with his mouth. I was amazed as he lifted his head with the Emory board in his mouth to give it back to me. My jaw was nearly dragging the floor. Talk about being blown away by a dog's ability to work out a problem quickly and without damaging the Emory board. As of that day, I was SOLD on Australian Shepherds.

Little did I know, I would have many good reasons for my attachment to this breed to grow ever stronger through the next short years.

Heather would grow up. She would get her degree, get a fiance and get a house nearly five hours away. Most traumatically, she would take Tux with her. Never mind that he was HER dog; he had become an integral part of our household, but I had to say good-bye to the grown-up daughter and to the dog that we had grown to love so much. Of course, there are visits, but Tux is one of those rare dogs that can never be replaced.

Then, along came Howdy. Our next Australian Shepherd...the one we bought from a ranch in Texas. The dog that the ranch owner didn't intend to sell. But, we insisted on taking him home with us and it's a decision we never regretted.

For Part II of Australian Shepherd Chronicles, stay tuned.

At the Texas A&M BOYS house with Tux this past summer.
Tux and I sharing a sweet moment.

#128 - Stubborn Chickens Survive Bad Weather

Belle the Yorkie has been converted into a full-fledged chicken lover.
She is proof that change is indeed possible!

First...an update on my "Tighten It Up Thursday." I am five pounds down in my desire to conquer 25 pounds. I'm going nice and slow. I might have some ups and downs, but overall, the downturn is the greatest so far. I'm delighted to continue shedding pounds I no longer call "friend." The past couple of weeks, I've added Yogurt to my daily intake. It is filling and satisfying, especially with a few devilish M&M's added!

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Onto the blog of today...Cold weather and chickens is something I know nothing about; the combo is a new experience I've never encountered, until last night.

Last night we had a Texas-Style winter blast move in. This meant that the temperatures dropped within seconds as a powerful whirlwind knocked things around the neighborhood. The strong winds whirled about for a couple of hours and today we're still experiencing strong bursts of wind...but last night I kept waking to the sounds of things being blown onto the side of the house.

Since we've been sleeping upstairs, I looked out the window around 1:30am to see the chicken coop in the yard below. There is a little door leading from the interior of the coop to the tractor run. Sitting there inside the tractor run, exposed to the elements, on a little perch, were two chickens nearly being blown over as they clung to the rough stick perch. They were so very close to the door that leads inside the coop. I stood upstairs, looking at them and saying quietly, "Go INSIDE you silly birds!!"

They didn't. As the weather worsened, I kept getting up to look out the window to see if they had gone inside the coop, but they stayed in their place.

Even as the rain pelted down upon us in a driving force, the birds sat there holding firm, ruffling their feathers in an attempt to shed the drops of rain landing on their feathers.

Eventually, I had to go back to bed and listen to the sounds of the rain hitting the panes of glass and debris hitting the house. I had no idea if the chickens that were so stubborn as to try to stay outside during the storm would survive the cold blast. I have no idea how much of the cold a chicken can take and how much exposure they can withstand.

Texas can have mild winters, but when a northerner blows through, it can be rather brutal with biting wind and temperatures that drop severely and quickly.

Early the next morning, when it was still dark outside, I glanced out the window to find all five chickens pecking around the tractor run, already eager to be let out. They seemed to be anxious and were making an out of the ordinary sound. I think it was their version of a complaint about the cold. So, I went ahead and put on Deputy Dave's thick robe, then headed for the backyard with a mixture of feed so they could forage around the yard for the day and find their own comfy zones as the wind continued to blast around.

I realized that very cold nights will require us to close the side panel door that lets the chickens roam free inside the tractor run. On very cold, bad weather nights, they simply cannot be given the choice to roam around inside the chicken tractor because it appears that they would rather subject themselves to harsh, dangerous conditions than to take the few steps required to be safely back inside the coop. Like little children who do not have the awareness to be cautious for their own good, chickens seem to need pro-active intervention during bad weather because they appear to be incapable of taking initiative to protect themselves.

They are indeed my little babies. My little feathered, sharp beaked, scary-clawed babies.

Since Texas is slow to experience "winter" and since it comes at sporadic times...one day it will be 80 degrees, the next it will be 32 degrees...we must be prepared to help the chickens get through the long, cold nights.

Chickens enjoying outdoor fine dining of Ms.Baird's bread.

Through the long months of very high temperatures and a Texas drought, we've already dealt with a chicken surviving heat stroke. It was a very high anxiety time in this household as the chicken lay lifeless, looking as dead as an unplucked Tyson chicken on our living room floor while Deputy Dave tried to revive her. Hanging by a thread, she spent a couple of days in recovery while sitting on a towel inside our master bathtub. I was shocked, but she survived and has been living well since that horrible day of nearly being cooked by the Texas sun.

Putting all of the chicken-pot-pie jokes aside, I don't think I could handle having to eat one of our backyard chickens. These are hens dedicated to providing our family with delicious, fresh eggs, not meat. One day, we will raise some chickens specifically to be processed, but the ones fluttering around the backyard are supposed to be happy and healthy and entertaining. The trick to all of this enjoyment is...keeping the chickens alive.

These days, I am thoroughly enjoying being able to do a chicken dance or two...with actual chickens. It's a good life.

#127 - My Lemon Tree Awaits!

Back around 2001, Deputy Dave planted my little lemon tree for me on our land. I loved this tree. It had always resided in a large pot on our front porch and did very well. It produced delicious, sweet tasting lemons.

The picture below is not my lemon tree, but you can barely see the little lemon tree just to the right side of the wood decked area

I decided to take a risk and plant it on our land. Turns out, the lemon tree thrived once it was free from the confines of the pot and in the ground; my little tree began to grow stronger limbs and produce more fruit. However, our timing for a visit on the land did not always coincide with fruit production.

Every visit to our land, I first go on a search for my lemon tree. A few times, it has been covered by other growth and the area around the lemon tree had to be cleared so it would not be choked out. But, it hung in there, growing strong.

One day soon, I hope to be living on that land and be close by so that I can actually pick ripe lemons off the tree to make different lemon dishes and to squeeze out some fresh home-made lemonade. Until then, my lemon tree will have to stand strong in the wilderness, waiting for our next trip to clear its growing zone of vines and weeds.

Eventually, we will be able to plant more fruit trees on our land. Those are the kinds of fruits of our labor that I truly do love to savor! 

#126 - First-Time Camper, Not in Paris Baby!

Over ten years ago, when we purchased our acreage, we owned a pop-up camper which had given us years and years of traveling fun.

It was a good thing we owned this pop-up camper because we ended up using it while staying on our land. Nearly every weekend, we went to our property. We let the children bring their friends and every weekend was spent exploring nature and enjoying plenty of room to run.

I will never forget...Stefie had an adorable friend named Priya. For years, we had been friends with Priya's family who lived just a few blocks away. However, those few blocks seemed to signify us being worlds apart. You see, at this time we lived in Clear Lake...we had purchased our home from a NASA Mission Controller...everyone around us was high business-minded, most everyone was successful while climbing some sort of career ladder.

However, Priya's neighborhood down the road was very high on the totem pole. Their custom designed stucco house was over 10,000 square feet. They had a six-car garage with luxury cars specially outfitted to meet their every desire. This family might have seemed to be overly privileged and living in luxury, but I must say that they were the most down-to-earth, gentle, compassionate and generous people I've known. The kids did have a lot of advantages, but the expectations of those kids were sky high. Everyone in the family led a highly busy and productive life.

Stefie and Priya often took turns spending the night at each other's houses and us moms would arrange play dates. Looking like two princesses, the girls would have a fun time together. Stefie with her long blond hair and big blue eyes, then Priya with her long jet black hair and dark black eyes. They were quite a pair.

Priya is bottom row, in the center and Stefie is second from the end in
her red shirt on the first row. Here they are at a skating party.
Priya's beautiful mother is at the back of the row with Priya's father
and her brother is sitting near their mother.

In contrast to Stefie's dad as a Deputy Sheriff and knowing that her daddy was responsible for a good level of authority and power, so it was with Priya's father, except her dad worked as a Neonatal Surgeon at Texas Children's Hospital and lived with the authority and power over the lives of premature babies. However, Priya's dad had acquired such an incredible level of expertise that Stefie remembers the school's entire 5th grade watching a documentary about Priya's father because he helped keep the most premature baby ever delivered alive. His medical intervention helped the survival rates of preemies increase even more than could be imagined. Yes, Priya's father was a world-renowned neonatal surgeon and he also worked part of the time in New York.

One weekend, Priya went with us to our property to go camping. I explained very clearly to Priya's mother that being our land meant roughing it. We would not have a fully stocked kitchen, no private bathrooms, no walls...we would be sleeping in a pop-up tent with a porta-potty stuck in the corner of the screened in room, surrounded by a privacy shield. But, we did have acres of land, wildlife to observe and a big spring fed lake to swim in, instead of a chlorinated pool. Priya's mother thought that the opportunity for Priya to go camping was exciting. She'd never been camping, ever. They lived a life of regularly traveling to exotic ports, staying in luxurious hotels and always experiencing the best that money could buy.

There's nothing wrong with reaping the rewards of what you have sown. That family sacrified a lot to achieve their level of education and Priya's father missed many events because he was trying to save someone else's child. From the outside, people might have been jealous of what Priya's family enjoyed, but they would have to know them on a close level to understand all that it took to achieve their kind of success. I definitely admired their tenacity for perfection in all areas of life. They felt that life was to be lived as fully and as whole-heartedly as possible...with no excuses. It makes me mentally exhausted just thinking about their busy lifestyle.
However, we were ready to share an amazing secret with Priya, sometimes the "best" of what life has to offer is not for sale. Sometimes the "best" of life comes with the most simple choices. Sometimes life holds treasures around the corner instead of half way around the world.

There's my Stefie, so young, making the "Peace" sign.
Priya is standing next to her looking sweet in her glasses.

Preparing to leave for the country...Priya's mother dropped her excited daughter off at our house with a set of high-priced luggage packed and ready to go for a camping trip. She had no clue as to how to pack for camping...we all got a good hearted laugh out of seeing her large set of luggage ready to be put into the back of the truck...like the rest of our own luggage, wrapped inside a large black trash bag to protect it from the dirt and debris from the road trip. My children knew to pack their soft duffle bags...bags that they could shove into the crack of their camp bed for quick access. I think this was one of the first lessons Priya learned about roughing it...to pack light and to leave the bulky luggage at home.

Staying in a pop-up camper was a new experience for Priya. As I had mentioned, her house was immense. In fact, their house was so large that during Priya's birthday party, each person was assigned a "buddy" to get around the house so they would have less chance of being lost, alone. At the front door of Priya's house lay a not-politically-correct Snow Tiger skin, it had been shot and killed by Priya's father and uncle during a trip back home to India. It was quite a spectacle to go to their house and to have the front door opened only for you to look down onto the foyer floor and see a HUGE tiger's head still attached to the skin...looking up at you with teeth bared. Later, we found out that these were illegal. But, when you have power such as this family...what do such laws really mean? I have to say, it was pretty awesome. No, I'm not a member of PETA.

Priya was happy to go camping and to be free for a few days in a way she'd not experienced before. Back home, she had a world of private tutors waiting for more sessions, tennis lessons with a pro-instructor and everything of "perfection" expected of her. Her loving parents were also outrageously intelligent, so this set the bar very high for their two children. Camping meant she'd get to forget about anything except being a kid.

They got to play in the dirt, go scavaging for hidden forest treasures and not worry about being "presentable." For Priya, this was a lot of fun. That girl had beautiful clothes...she didn't shop at the Galleria or Baybrook Mall here in Houston, she shopped for her clothes in New York or when making her regular travels abroad. Deciding which clothes to wear for camping was probably a brand new welcomed challenge.

The first night in the camper, we pulled open the foldable table and let the girls take out their little packed "special" things to share. It was dark, so it was indoor time. Priya hauled a modern make-up case that had intricate inlaid designs on the case and a succession of trays that pulled out holding various shades of blush, eye-shadows, lipsticks and such. It was incredible. I'd never seen anything like this in my own life-time. My daughters sat in awe as Priya lovingly showed them her little treasure of make-up. I told Priya that the case was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen and she said, without any pretense, "I just got it a couple of weeks ago during our trip to Paris."

Us three girls looked at each and giggled, "Oh yes, Paris, of course."

Man, I should've known that make-up case would not be found at Walmart! But, we three girls had a great time looking at Priya's beautiful Paris gift. Priya simply gave us all her shining smile. I don't think she realized that going to Paris for a short trip was something very special...it was an ordinary trip to her

One thing is for sure...Priya found it thrilling to sleep in the wilderness with only a canvas tent popped out as the wall between her and the woods. She ate camp food as if it were the most delicious food she'd ever eaten and paddled around the lake in a little boat blown full of air. We roasted marshmellows around a camp-fire and screamed as the bats flew too close to our heads.

We took clean showers outside in our bathing suits, using the Sun/Solar Shower and Stefie still remembers, with humor, how Priya used almost all the water in one Sun-Shower bag that had been sitting out all day so it would be nice and warm...she had no idea about conserving water. That was our fault, we forget to tell her that one bag should last for at least two people to shower. A little kid has NO IDEA of this concept after a life-time of using unlimited tap water; she had no idea that a silly bag of water heated by the sun is a limited supply when camping in the wilderness. But, she did learn. Like I said, that girl was very intelligent, and it took about 24 hours of camping before she became a pro at it herself.

I wish I could find pictures of this trip. I've got them laying around here somewhere and will eventually get them scanned and posted. I even have a photo of the girls sitting inside the camper at the table as they all carefully inspected the make-up case from Paris with huge smiles. I'll find those picture; I may be slow, but I am determined.

Deputy Dave getting the pop-up set up with his mother standing
by and watching with humor.

Later, we graduated to a hard-body camper with a SLIDE!
Wahooooo! This was after we had worked like DOGS on our land for a couple of years.
We kept this camper at the property for about three years.

My brother...Yes...He's lovingly referred to as my "BUBBA." He's always
been my "Bubba" and always will be. To others, he's "Doug."
I think there is a saying in Texas that everyone has to have a "Bubba."
To my kids, he is "Uncle Bubba." His son, Quinn, is sitting on the 4-Wheeler too.

RV kitchens...gotta love the cooking heat of an RV kitchen in the Texas heat!

Today's method of camping on our property.
We're older and require less creature comforts.

The tent with the carpet that I love...has rubber backing and doesn't slide around.

In the end, Priya and Stefie ended up as a lot of friends do...going their different directions, but they still keep in touch. My oldest daughter, Heather, is still in touch with Priya's brother...they were friends as well. He is in medical school, following in his father's noble footsteps.

One thing is for sure, I know Priya is surely an amazing, beautiful woman who anyone would be blessed to know. I hope life treats her well because she was so caring and loving, even while having the world at her fingertips. That kiddo definitely had a lot of burdens on her little shoulders...she had to work harder than ten people put together...but the expectations of her parents were not unreasonable because she was intelligent enough and diligent enough to meet each of them fully.

I am sure that her camping experience melded into her world in a strange, useful manner. For us, it was wonderful to share our little corner of the world. It may not have been as culturally enlightening as Paris, but our land sure did have a raw beauty to it. Our little forest became a wonderous retreat that could make some dreams come true for a kid.

Today, our land still holds the key to many of my own dreams, and I'm a big kiddo. Forget Paris.