Karen and Bunkey's Blog

Bay Neal

2011-07-15T10:37:00.000-07:00

My first memory of Bay Neal was from the mortgage insurance heyday, 1984-ish. At the time, I was a young, impressionable branch manager for a medium-sized wholesale mortgage banker. The company I worked for was a mortgage player wannabe, trying hard to be up-and-coming in the mortgage business. On this memorable occasion, I, other b.m.’s, and the company’s self-important E.V.P’s, were being wined and dined by Ticor Mortgage Insurance Company at The Abbey Restaurant in Atlanta, Georgia. This was an over-the-top, extravagant dinner, so typical of the times, during which Ticor representatives intended to extract a commitment from my mortgage company for a high volume of insurable mortgage product. Ticor was a rival of Verex, a high-powered mortgage insurer and Bay’s employer. Evidently, Ticor’s primary purpose that night was to convince my bosses to choose Ticor over Verex.

Although I was middle management and not one of the decision makers, I overheard the names, “Bay Neal” and “Verex” spoken at the other end of the long dining table many times that evening. From the gossip, I ascertained that a Verex bigshot named Bay Neal had recently been gaining momentum in the fight to get my employer’s business. The choice of one of the most expensive restaurants in Atlanta, reserving the wine cellar for our private dining room, providing chauffeured transportation to and from our hotel so that we could be free to consume as much libation as we pleased, was to impress so highly that our bosses would certainly feel obligated to make a major commitment to Ticor. I’m certain they thought that there would be no way that Bay Neal or Verex could compete with that shindig!

After the four hour, multi-course dinner, our group of a few dozen mortgage bankers and mortgage insurers who were now the best of friends, staggered outside to hail our limos. …And, there, standing under the streetlight in front of the restaurant, opening the door of his luxury car for the president of one of the biggest mortgage banking firms in the country (a real mortgage player) was Bay Neal. I will never forget that moment. There he was with his white-blonde beach boy haircut, deep-water tanned face, and bright blue eyes, smiling broadly with those flashy pearly whites of his. He didn’t say it aloud, but I heard him think, “GOTCHA!” What he actually said was, “Fancy meeting you here! How was dinner, guys? Ours was great! See ya!”

That was Bay. Always a step ahead of everyone else, always smarter, always knowing what you were thinking before you did. Years after that memorable moment, after he and Barbara and Jim and I became close, good, good friends, I came to know that he was more than just a brilliant mind behind a handsome face. He was kind, thoughtful, and gentle. Bay was one of the last true gentlemen on this planet. And he was a loving person. Of course, we all know how much he loved Barbara and his human family, but he also dearly loved his kitties! A man who is devastated when his cat dies is a rare man who truly has a big, soft heart. …And, funny! He would come out with the most hilarious one-liners that would just slay me!

I will miss him, his wit, his smile, his heart. I am very, very appreciative of the fact of his friendship and will treasure the great memories that he gave Jim and me. The world is now a lesser place.

Karen Lee

Vermont Energy Plan Comments

2011-07-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

My comments for consideration in the Vermont Comprehensive Energy Plan are based my experience as an energy and environmental conservation activist for over 35 years, as well as my recent experience as a renewable energy professional in Vermont.

Karen Lee
P.O. Box 974
Arlington, VT 05250
(802)375-6462

ENERGY PRIORITIES

I strongly recommend that we reprioritize our goals and strategies toward energy efficiency and energy production. Following is a list of topics, organized according in a logical, cost-effective order:

Top Priority. Efficiency and Conservation

The cost of space heating, operating inefficient appliances, and powering buildings is too expensive, environmentally and economically, to waste energy. (That’s just crazy!) We should spend most of our public resources in making certain that ALL buildings and operations in Vermont are as energy efficient as is reasonably possible.

Until we stop heating the outdoor environment
and stop wasting electrical power, our efforts to increase
our usage of renewable energy sources are counterintuitive.

Energy audits on all buildings and major appliances should be mandatory, not optional. Building owners should be required to install adequate insulation, upgrade outdated inefficient appliances, and other energy efficient retrofits. Low-cost financing should be available to all Vermonters, regardless of income and creditworthiness. (All buildings should be more energy efficient!) Monthly payments for efficiency financing should be collected by local utility companies as part of regular utility billing. When structured properly, the net monthly utility expense for consumers, given energy savings from efficiency, would be less than consumers are paying now. Efficiency financing could be funded privately by banks, credit unions, or other institutional investors. (Banks would appreciate the income stream.) An independent loan servicing company could serve as a conduit between utility companies and banks.

A reasonable household, per capita, electrical usage should be determined. Each household should pay electric fees to utility companies based on a sliding scale of increased rates for increased power usage, thereby encouraging consumers to use less electricity or to install on-site renewable energy systems, such as photovoltaic or wind systems.

Second Priority: Efficient thermal production for heating buildings

Other than transportation, Vermonters consume more energy for heating buildings than for any other purpose. Strong financial incentives should be provided to encourage property owners to retrofit their heating systems to carbon-neutral, sustainable-fuel based systems, including, but not limited to:

Highly efficient biomass burners
(Biomass fuel to be sustainably and regionally harvested using ecologically responsible practices)

Geothermal heat pumps

Solar space heating
(Viable when used in conjunction with biomass and/or geothermal systems)

An incentive program to develop a method for energy-efficient air-conditioning should be developed.

Third Priority: Thermal production for heating water

After efficiency upgrades, solar hot water technology is the lowest-hanging fruit in this discussion. Solar hot water systems work extremely well, even in Vermont! A large portion of Vermont’s fossil fuel consumption is spent toward heating water, but the sun shines for free! When designed properly, solar hot water systems will contribute more than 65% of the thermal energy necessary to meet the needs for domestic hot water.

Every homeowner, every dairy, every cheesemaker,
every restaurant, every hotel and inn, every laundromat,
and every other business that uses hot water
should have a solar hot water system in Vermont!

It is ridiculous that we are not better at educating the public about the benefits of solar hot water systems. Although modest state incentive programs are in place for solar hot water, the number of systems that have been installed is a drop in the bucket! Public officials should spend more time educating consumers about solar hot water and low-cost financing should be available to all property owners, regardless of income and credit-worthiness. We need to make better efforts toward the proliferation of solar hot water systems across the state. It is WRONG to spend more public time and to invest more public resources on production and installation of renewable energy technologies that are less efficient than solar hot water.

ALL energy experts agree that
SOLAR HOT WATER
IS THE MOST COST EFFECTIVE AND MOST ENERGY EFFICIENT OF ALL TYPES OF RENEWABLE ENERGY!

Why are more public discussions and many more tax dollars spent on incentives for other technologies? We need to do a better job of spending our resources on the most cost-effective energy efficient measures possible. Solar hot water may not be as sexy as other technologies (such as photovoltaic technology) but solar hot water gives us a FAR better bang for our buck.

Fourth Priority: Generation of Electricity

AFTER aggressive state programs are instituted to assure that the top three energy priorities are met, public resources should be spent toward the generation of electricity from renewable energy resource technologies, including, but not limited to:

Solar power
Wind power
Micro-hydro power

I support individual or small, local renewable energy electrical generation, rather than regional solar and wind farms due to efficiency and public acceptance.

ENERGY CONSIDERATIONS

The following topics for consideration during the evaluation and institutional of energy programs and policies should be (listed in order of importance):

Carbon emission reduction
Our first energy goal should be to lessen Vermont’s impact on global climate change by reducing carbon emissions.

Sustainable fuel source
All fuel sources should be harvested sustainably.

Environmental impact
Negative impacts on air quality, water quality, erosion, and other environmental considerations should be avoided.

Ecological impact
Negative impacts on the natural ecology should be avoided. For example, timber harvests should be conducted seasonally to reduce mortality of nesting species. Hydro facilities should not negatively impact local watersheds.

Local harvest
We should use regional resources for renewable energy materials. (No biomass from the Pacific Northwest or photovoltaics made in China.)

Economic cost
We should assure that renewable energy systems are incentivized based on cost-effectiveness.

Local jobs created
Vermont-based renewable energy companies that employ Vermonters should be given highest consideration for development and installation of efficiency upgrades and renewable energy systems.

SUMMARY

A smart energy policy will strengthen our Vermont economy. By encouraging locally conserved, locally generated, locally made, and locally harvested renewable energy, Vermont will set an example for other states to follow. We can establish a non-carbon based, energy-independent, healthy economy.

We have the technology, the resources, the demand, and the know-how to achieve our energy goals. All we need is the political will.

Evolution

2011-04-20T14:09:00.000-07:00

"Evolution"

A essay on hope by Karen Lee,
Resident of Arlington, Vermont
Native Floridian

Written August, 2008

I used to fight the good fight. As a longtime volunteer environmental activist I am mentally and emotionally beleaguered, besieged, despondent, and full of cynicism. I have personally witnessed people at their worst -- greedy, selfish, short-sighted, and cruel. For many years now I have accepted with detached defeatism the inevitability of the failure of humankind to be successful stewards of our planet. We’re even worse at being caretakers of each other. Because I am not a spiritual person, finding solace in the faith of a benevolent super-being was not an option for me. I respect the religious faith of others and am happy for people that find comfort in their beliefs, but I consider my secular attitude as scientifically enlightened. I lightheartedly refer to myself as a member of the Church of Carl Sagan. I am in awe of the cosmos and have reverence for the beauty found in the random order of nature. So, seeking my own emotional peace, and to help me come to terms with the continual wrongdoings of mankind, I began long ago to evaluate our species from a cosmic perspective.

It has been ironically comforting for me to perceive Homo sapiens akin to a meteor or comet that has been hurtling toward earth on a cataclysmic course since our evolution. Our innate ability to ruthlessly destroy other species and dominate every natural ecosystem has led to our prolific success while coincidentally insuring the doom of the contemporary earth’s biosphere. From an evolutionary point of view, it is only natural that such a highly intelligent, adaptable creature as man would evolve, and it is only inevitable that the earth’s ecosystems would be altered by this lately evolved, ultimate predator.

Why do we think that today’s (or yesterday’s) climate, ecosystems, flora, and fauna are so precious? The earth has existed through many dramatically different changes of climate. The effects of evolution resulted in biological diversity compatible with each unique climatic condition. It is another in a long list of egocentric anthropogenic opinions to state that our modern earth is particularly special and, therefore, worth saving in its current (recent past) condition. The terminal fate of today’s (yesterday’s) ecosystems was determined a few hundred thousand years ago when mitochondrial Eve was born in the Rift Valley of Africa. Global climate change caused by the actions of Homo sapiens was inevitable and unavoidable. In the words of folk singer Jimmy Buffett, “Planets come and planets go. Apocalypso.”

Or so I thought. Resolved and full of gloom for our children’s future and the plight of the present earth, I was comfortably detached in 2003 when China built the largest dam in the world, the Three Gorges Dam, displacing indigenous human cultures and natural ecosystems. As the coral reefs of tropical oceans continued to bleach and die, as rainforests were burned, and as hundreds of species daily were permanently exterminated by human actions, I looked away dispassionately. When the Bush Administration denied the facts of global warming and kept the United States from participating in the Kyoto Treaty, I was unsurprised and unaffected. Self-indulgent gluttons continued to rape and pillage the earth, while despots, tyrants, and religious zealots murdered each other in senseless wars and vicious acts of genocide. I knew that these insane acts were the manifestations of Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest. Inter-and intra-species competition for and exploitation of finite resources were the enactments of predictable and predetermined natural functions.

While respectful and with admiration for their work, I pitied the heroic efforts of Al Gore and other advocates for reversal of climate change. I thought, “Those poor, deluded souls. They should know it’s too little, and we’re too late.” When the Arctic seaway opening to shipping in the summer of 2008, I was shocked by the blatant evidence that global warming truly is upon us and that we will experience dramatic effects of climate change during our lifetimes. I’m certain that some of the spark of momentary motivation came from an urgent sense of self preservation, but I almost became re-energized and almost rediscovered an activist’s passion. Almost. Before I jumped back into the fray of fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with my environmental friends, I took a deep breath and stepped back. I realized that ice melting due to global warming is only inevitable…ultimately natural, right? I decided, once again, to get over it and returned to my protective bubble of despair.

Although I had given up, and was officially retired as an environmental activist, I was mildly interested in U.S. politics, just to keep up the impression of having social graces, of course. (There’s no point to it all, naturally.) I was a supporter of Hillary Clinton for president and was unhappy when her bid for the Democratic nomination failed. I had respect for Barack Obama, but did not believe that our society was ready for him, or that he was prepared to be the most powerful leader of the human race. You see, I’m from the South. I know the bigotry that is still pervasive in the hearts and minds of millions of brainwashed and ignorant Americans living in the Deep South, the West, Mid-West, and in the corners of every region of the United States. I thought it possible that Americans just might vote for a woman, but Americans would not elect a person of color, and certainly not one with a name like Barack Obama.

I am terrified and elated to admit that I think I might have been wrong. Since I stopped listening to Hillary, I started listening to Barack. I watched in amazement as tens of thousands of people of all ethnicities were captivated and inspired by his speeches; speeches that were full of intelligence, insight, leadership. Words that made sense and unabashedly addressed the weaknesses of the human condition while preaching a message of – dare I write the terrifying word – HOPE.

In the past, I have heard several intelligent, wise, educated speakers say the right words. But, never in my life had I witnessed those words spoken in a manner that had such a dramatic impact on so many people, as did the words spoken by Barack Obama. I was intrigued as people were moved from complacency to enthusiasm; “Drinking the Kool-Aid,” according to CNN commentators. I began to wonder about the real possibilities of change.

Is it possible that we humans can redirect our destiny? Can we outsmart the irresistible forces of evolution and overcome our genetic urges to take, kill, abuse, and destroy? Can we evolve again and change our apocalyptic meteoric course to become Homo intelligencia and ultimately survive as the wisest, kindest, and truly “fittest” species on earth? Is it possible that one human, speaking clearly and sanely, can stir the enthusiasm of millions of disillusioned and disenfranchised people? Can we, then, inspire and educate others so that we all learn to live in peace together and in peace with our planet? Can we effectively communicate with Rush Limbaugh’s devotees who are drunk on his toxic flavored Kool-Aid? Can we reach their closed minds and help them see the human race’s urgent need for change?

I am reluctant to emerge from my comfort zone of avoidance and despondent resignation, but a more powerful emotion than reluctance is growing within me. The sensation is strange to me in my adult life. It is terrifying, almost physically painful. It is the feeling of hope. I am overwhelmed by the possibility of a healthy future for my grandchildren. I am cautious, full of trepidation, but I admit I do have hope.

Can we really do this?

The Well Story

2011-04-20T12:33:00.001-07:00

May, 2008.

When we first arrived home at Summer Hill from our winter months in Florida, I was very excited to get out of the motorhome, and stand for a long time under a hot shower. But, the shower I longed for was not to be! Our well pump had stopped working. There was no water coming out of our taps. We called our local plumber, and he and Jim began the search for our well head to try and retrieve and replace the old pump. Because the well had been dug many years before modern code requirements, the well head was not installed above ground. We had only a general idea about the possible location of the old well head. That afternoon, we were unable to locate the well and we had return to the motorhome to take showers and go to the bathroom.

The next day, we hired a backhoe & operator, and he dug a giant cavity six feet deep, about 20 feet by 20 feet square. The plumber finally found the old well head. But, unfortunately, during the attempt to extract the old pump, the interior sides of the well caved in! Uh oh.

Our next step was to call a well driller and get on a WAITING LIST. We waited ten days for him to show up. (Back to living in the motorhome again.) The driller started by drilling near the old well. He drilled 360 feet, only to reach a limestone cavern that caved in. OK, his next drill spot was about fifty feet across the driveway (are you getting the picture of our formerly beautiful driveway and lawn?)...He drilled 160 feet down and reached another cavern that was evidently connected to the first well and vapor came geysering out of the first hole! Very interesting geologically, but not good for us.

The drill operator took out his divining rod (I am NOT kidding) and started poking all around the yard, including in my flower and vegetable gardens. Un-f-ing-believable. He tried to give up and leave, telling us we had no well water under our property. WHAT?!? So, you're telling me we have to live in our motorhome forever and that our home is now worthless? I don't THINK so! The drill operator called in the Big Guy, his daddy. Daddy Driller relocated the rig to the opposite end of the driveway, enlarged the drill bit, and encased the hole the entire way down in welded steel pipes, to protect against cave-ins. At 167 feet, he struck a LOT of water, but it was full of ocher (red clay).

That day, I learned a new word: "turbulating." I'm not so sure the word would hold up in a scrabble game. But in the well business, to Turbulate means "To vigorously pump air deep into a well cavity, pushing the the water out of the well with great force causing significant turbidity, in order to clean out the loose debris and to create a clean well water storage cavity." The ocher had to be removed from the water before it would be potable.

You cannot imagine the volume of turbulated water, foamy & brownish orange (coincidentally, about the same color as raw sewage) that came gushing out of the top of that new well. The water was actually clean (except for iron and other minerals). Because the water came from a well that was so deep, it had no nutrients and no pollution, it was just reddish limestone silt, but it looked awful. ...

... OK, picture this: We live on a hillside above a wild and scenic, very famous river -- the Batten Kill. The world-renowned fly-fishing retailer, Orvis, started here, on the Batten Kill. People come from around the world to fish in this pristine place.

About fifty gallons of foamy brownish orange water per minute were rushing down the hill from our new well. Toward the Batten Kill. During this entire well ordeal, I had been trying to be calm and not act like the screaming Flatlander* environmentalist that we all know I am. (*Flatlander is the local term for non-native Vermonters who moved here from anywhere else.) I had tried to go along and get along with the locals, but I couldn't stand it anymore. I followed the orange rivulet down the hill as it rushed through the stormwater ditch, into a culvert, under our road, down our neighbor's hill, into another culvert, under River Road, and directly INTO THE BATTEN KILL! I had followed the flow about 800 feet down our very steep hill, and I was now freaking out at the bottom of the hill. There I was, overweight, out of shape, trying to run back up the hill to tell the driller to TURN OFF THE F-ING PUMP! By the time, huffing and puffing, I finally got back to our driveway, about a mile's worth of orange silty water had poured into the river from our property.

Can you imagine? I was mortified! The driller and his daddy tried to assure me that the water was perfectly clean, there was no problem. No worries, ma'am. !!! Yeah, right. I knew better. They finally turned off the turbulating pump. Since it was 5 p.m., the drillers went home for the day, leaving the evidence stream flowing all the way to the Hudson.

The next morning, at 6:00 a.m. (real Vermonters are Morning People) the entire body of Selectmen (AKA: City Councilmen) of Arlington and the head of the local highway department were in our driveway. Their phones had rung off their hooks the night before with complaints from citizens about polluted water flowing into the river coming in from direction of our house. It took some extremely apologetic fast-talking on my part and Jim's, and we somehow avoided a fine or jail sentence. The river, of course, was absolutely OK since the gush from our well really and truly was clean water. The quality of water from our well was actually better than runoff from a storm or snowmelt, but it looked just awful.

Anyway, several thousand dollars in well drilling and trenching expense and four weeks later, we have copious amounts of crystal clear spring water now pumping into the plumbing system of our house. What an ordeal. Fresh water will never be taken for granted by me again!

Three days ago, Jim finished hand shoveling 22 TONS of gravel on the driveway and 10 TONS of topsoil on the yard to repair the well drilling damage. He distributed several bags of grass seed to repair the lawn.

Two days after the re-seeding, we had a rare (global warming) hailstorm and all of the seed and most of the new topsoil washed away. Into the Batten Kill.

Other than that, everything's been great! ... Seriously, everything here is really, really beautiful, the weather has been mostly perfect -- warm days, cool nights, and flowers are blooming everywhere. Very, very scenic and wonderful. I just had to share our well experience with you.

Karen Lee
Summer Hill
June, 2008

Panther Lake's Lucky Stinker

2011-04-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

Stinky's Humble Beginnings
(written November, 2004)

The day before Thanksgiving in 2001, while driving in their van on County Road 630 in Polk County, Florida, Karen Lee and her husband, Jim, rescued an abandoned, abused, sickly puppy. Speeding trucks full of oranges from the morning's harvest dodged her as she sat waiting for them, on the white line marking the edge of the two-lane highway. The Lees didn't see her at first, as they zoomed by at 60 miles an hour. Simultaneously, they turned to each other and exclaimed, "It's a PUPPY!" Half a second later, "It's a border collie!" Jim pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, and Karen leapt from the van. Having had several extremely unfortunate experiences with attempts to rescue dogs, cats, and gopher turtles from highways, Karen was cautious. She was concerned that the puppy may have been feral, and afraid of people. Approaching the puppy might have sent her directly into the path of a multi-ton mass of racing fruit truck. So, Karen crouched down, more than ten feet back from the edge of the highway, down into the sandspurs and briars of the typical roadside scrub of central Florida. She called, "Here, Puppy, Puppy, Puppy!" The little dog evidently couldn't see Karen, but she heard her and immediately started air scenting to find the source of the human voice. The puppy ran into the center of the road, heading in the general direction of the Lee's van. Karen had a severe attack of panic, thinking that in the last few seconds before her rescue, the puppy would be hit by a truck. Just in time, the puppy spied the crouching human and ran toward Karen, launching into her outstretched arms. The puppy squealed with evident relief, joy, and ravenous hunger. She bit at Karen's ears and face maniacally.

Karen had a very strong stomach and was not prone to vomiting, but the smell of that puppy caused her to retch. The puppy smelled like diarrhea and decaying flesh with the essence of kerosene. What a little stinker! The Lees immediately took her to a local veterinarian (one that was unknown to the Lees, at the time), thinking she would have to be euthanised. As they entered front door of the vet office, all other patients and their humans cleared the waiting room due to the overwhelming stench from the mongrel in Karen's arms. The receptionist asked, "What do you want us to do with that?" Karen replied, "We found this puppy, and we want to see if you can help her!" The only response from the skeptical clerk was a sneer. Karen said, "We have money, we're going to pay!" The receptionist asked, "And then, what?" To which Jim replied, "Of course, we're gonna keep her!"

After besting the reluctant receptionist, the Lees were allowed to see the vet. Much to their surprise, the doctor examined the pitiful wretch and proclaimed her to be a "Diamond in the Rough!" He diagnosed her as having a severe total-body case of highly-contagious scabies and mange, and told the Lees that she had recently been dipped in burned motor oil, a common redneck treatment for mange. Horrified, the Lees told the vet that they would take responsibility for the puppy and that she would join their family. Karen mentioned that, after her recovery, maybe she would even become an agility dog. The vet looked at the little dog and said, "Stinky little puppy, I think you just won the lottery!"

Eight weeks of quarantine and several medical treatments later (Karen had to take a shower each time she touched the puppy, which was four times a day, for eight weeks!), little Stinky grew to became a healthy dog with a beautiful coat! She is now Panther Lake's Lucky Stinker, CGC, OA, NAJ, AD. Stinky is the apple of Jim's eye, and is Karen's canine freestyle (doggy dancing) partner. Stinky is quite a ham in front of an audience, she absolutely loves to dance, and also loves dog agility.
The Lees travel all over Florida and the USA, attending dog agility events with Stinky and their other dog, a Border Collie named Carly, when they're not at home in Islamorada in the Florida Keys. They support Karen's dog agility habit by working as mortgage brokers in their mom & pop mortgage business, Conch Republic Mortgage Corp. (November, 2004)

Ten in Ten

2011-04-20T11:45:00.001-07:00

Ten in Ten
June, 2008

Following is a story about foresight, hindsight, financial gain, financial loss, hope, perseverance, and optimism. The message is…We all need to pick ourselves up, change our lives, and get to work!

Most of my adult life, I was a mortgage industry professional. In that 30 year career, I held almost every position available in the mortgage field, from receptionist to senior lending officer for a small bank. From 1994 until 2005 my husband Jim and I owned and operated a small, successful mortgage brokerage business in the Florida Keys. No, we never participated in subprime lending. I was brought up in a time when loans were granted to qualified individuals, in loan amounts relative to each applicant’s ability to afford the proposed housing payment. Call me old fashioned. During the days of big bucks being made by others in the mortgage business who were playing fast and loose with underwriting guidelines, Jim and I chose to stay with our conservative business approach. We were just regular workin’ stiffs, plugging away, originating “vanilla” loan product. We missed opportunities to make lots of money, but we slept well at night.

We were fortunate to have bought a modest waterfront home in 1989 in Islamorada, and during our years of living and working in paradise in the Florida Keys, we made substantial improvements to that home. In 2005, as everyone knows, the real estate market was booming, especially for waterfront properties. Jim and I decided to sell our home and use the proceeds from the sale to take advantage of the knowledge we had gained from our 30 year experience in real estate finance and become real estate investors. We were thrilled with the prospect of beginning a new career, and felt proud (a little smug, actually) to have cashed out before the mortgage market crashed. There was actually a brief point in time when our net worth exceeded a million dollars! We were very impressed with ourselves. In the summer of 2005, Jim and I would giggle together occasionally and say it was our goal to make “Ten in Ten.” That is -- ten million dollars in ten years. We were delusional, of course, and more than a little silly with a heavy dose of good ol' American greed.

I was anxious to invest our chunk of change right away…to ”put it in the dirt!” I thought, “Everyone knows that real estate, especially real estate in Florida, is the most sound investment of all!” In 2005, there was a wide spread sense of near panic among real estate purchasers to buy properties as soon as possible, before the prices got further away from us. Our plan was sound (we thought), tried and true – we would buy fixer-upper homes in desirable neighborhoods, renovate them, rent them, and sell them for profits in a few years. We anticipated that the real estate market might soften somewhat, but our plan included putting down at least 30 percent on each house, allowing for minimum mortgage payments that could easily be covered by rental income, even in a softer real estate market. (The ironic thing is that if we had highly-leveraged our purchases with sub-prime mortgages -- not that we ever would have! -- we wouldn’t have lost so much cash! But, I’m old fashioned, remember?) So, we bought a few investment properties in Florida and a summer home in Vermont. We were so confident in our investment acumen that we even loaned two hundred thousand dollars to our daughter so that she and her husband could purchase a business in Palm Beach county. We were on our way to becoming successful in our new careers as semi-retired investors!

Of course, as it turned out, our plan could hardly have been worse. We invested almost all of our cash, keeping little in reserve. In addition to the 30 percent (plus closing costs) we put down, we invested several thousand dollars in improvements and upgrades on each property. When the real estate market flattened in 2006, we weren’t worried -- we had a good plan. As it always had before, the market would bounce back, and our tenants were paying their rents. In 2007, things got slower, people starting talking about a long term real estate recession. Florida led the country in mortgage delinquencies, builders had overbuilt, speculators had overspeculated, Florida’s booming real estate market was bust! The ripple effect through the economy was pervasive. Businesses failed, including our daughter’s. She and her husband and thousands of people in Florida lost their jobs, especially those living in resort and retirement communities. People were unable to pay their rents. They were unable to pay their rents to us. Oops.

Toward the end of 2007, we were no longer living in denial that our real estate investment strategy was going to work. We were no longer millionaires. Ten in ten now meant ten dollars in ten years. Jim and I had already put most of our houses on the market for sale, offering them for slightly less than we had invested in them. We were ready and willing to take our hits and get on with our lives, but we didn’t yet understand that getting on with it wouldn’t be very easy. We couldn’t sell any of our houses, at any price! There was no market at all! Each of us began looking for jobs and soon discovered that we weren’t qualified for any professional employment opportunities that were available. Our so-called skills were in businesses that were out of business – mortgages and real estate. It was a humbling realization to learn that, in our advanced middle age we were unemployable!

We were not ready to lie down and die. We needed to make money. We needed to go to work. Whining and crying about our losses wasn’t going to do us any good. “Okay,” I thought, “Since we aren’t qualified to go to work for anyone else, then obviously, we should run our own business, but what should we do?” Planning ahead for self employment opportunities in a recession or depression is interesting. I thought about all the products that people might spend money on in a slow economy and came up with food, entertainment, electronic technology, and energy. Food production or food sales weren’t options for us – we had no experience as farmers, and didn’t happen to own any farmland anyway; we didn’t have the cash reserves to cover the overhead of running a grocery store; and entertainment was definitely out, because neither of us could sing or dance. We were just as qualified technologically as we were talented entertainers. Not.

One thing in my life’s experiences that I haven’t yet mentioned is that I was a part-time volunteer environmental and community activist for many years when we lived in the Keys. I always had dreamed of having a job that would help save the planet, rather than contribute to its decline. I had had an interest in solar energy since 1973, when I wrote a research paper on the topic in college. “So, what about solar energy?” I wondered. “Is it time now? Hmmm….this could be very interesting!”

After conducting research for several months, calling solar energy professionals, speaking with suppliers and manufacturers, and discussing requirements with industry regulators, I discovered that we could do it! Jim and I took a course in solar energy, Jim went to solar installation school, we set up our business, and now we are solar pros! We now specialize in the sales, installation, and service of solar hot water systems for homes and businesses in southern Vermont. We chose solar hot water heating because it provides the best return on the consumer’s green dollar. We officially started our business in the summer of 2008, and by the end of the year, we were almost in the black. The demand for green energy is out there, it’s just a matter of whether or not our potential customers still have jobs or enough money left to invest in green improvements.

By this point in our lives, we had hoped to be on the verge of retirement, but if we’re lucky and we stay healthy, we’ll be working for many more years. We are down to our last little bit of savings, but we are very optimistic because we know that we have lost only money. It’s not cancer. We hope that our solar business will do well this summer, and we’ll work hard to make it successful.

Karen Lee
Originally written June, 2008.
Update, April, 2011 --

Our solar business is doing well, we are making a small profit, but we have spent the last of our savings. We lost all of our investment properties, including one hundred percent of our investment in each one. As an example, our very nice home in Sebring, Florida, (we lived there after we sold our Keys home as our primary residence) just appraised for $105,000. We paid $260,000 for it in 2005, and put another $40,000 cash into the house in hard improvements. That's a 65% drop in value. It's only money, right??? Arghhh...

Caesar Salad

2010-04-26T19:04:00.000-07:00

Caesar Salad
November, 2007
Updated April, 2010
Excerpt from "In the Kitchen With Family and Friends" by Karen Lee

“This is my “signature” dish. It’s the recipe that I’m most proud of. Jim loves this dish and Caesar salad has become a staple in our regular weekly diet. For a complete meal, we usually toss in slices of sautéed chicken breasts, spiced with jerk seasoning.
I sincerely hope you enjoy it!”

Following are ESTIMATED proportions and basic guidelines. I’m too lazy to measure when I cook, and the flavor of olive oils, vinegars, and anchovies differ with every bottle and can. Adjustments will always be required, so please use your palate to correctly adjust proportions of your ingredients, according to your personal preference. The quantities below will produce 4 to 6 small side salads or 2 large entree salads. The estimated time of preparation is about 45 minutes.

1 full-size head of romaine lettuce, not prewashed and not precut
3 large (or 6 small) cloves fresh garlic
1 ½ cups virgin olive oil
1 fresh egg
2 lemons or 3 key limes
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons wine vinegar
2 cans of flat anchovies (not with capers)
Please read special about anchovies note below*
4 oz. can grated parmesan cheese
2 oz. shredded parmesan cheese
½ teaspoon raw granulated sugar
Dash of Worcestershire sauce (opt.)
½ teaspoon of prepared mustard (opt.)
Water
2 slices of multi-grain bread
Dried thyme & basil (and any other spices that you like)

Step 1 – Prepare lettuce. This step is overlooked by most chefs, but it is VERY important for a good-tasting result.
Select a large head of romaine lettuce that looks fresh and full. Discard the ragged outer leaves. Hand rinse each leaf in cold, running water. Remove and discard the whitish-colored stalks
from the green leaves. Hand tear the leaves into large bite-sized pieces (do not use a knife), and spin the clean lettuce in a lettuce spinner or pat dry with clean towel. Put the lettuce in a bowl and squeeze the juice of one lemon (or lime) onto leaves and toss. Put the bowl uncovered in refrigerator while making dressing, or overnight (not longer). Ascetic acid in the citrus and the quick chill will make the leaves become crisp.

Step 2. Make croutons. Without fresh, homemade croutons, the rest of your Caesar salad efforts are wasted. Boxed croutons are always too hard, stale, and really boring.

Peel & chop 2 garlic cloves. In sauté pan, pour 1/8 inch olive oil. Sauté garlic until light golden brown on medium-low heat. Cut bread into ¾” cubes. Arrange bread cubes in a single layer in pan. Pan-fry cubes, flipping frequently, until croutons are brown and crisp on all sides; take care not to burn them. Sprinkle dried spices and salt liberally over croutons, sauté 2 minutes more. You can drizzle a little more olive oil on top of the croutons during while sautéing, if you like. When perfectly browned, remove the croutons from the heat; lightly sprinkle them with grated parmesan cheese. Set aside; be sure to hide your yummy croutons from crouton thieves that always appear near the stove about this time.

Step 3. Prepare dressing.

In an electric blender or food processor, blend 1 clove of garlic in ¼ cup olive oil until garlic is pureed. Add 1 can of anchovies (including oil), 1 egg, and juice of one lemon or key lime. Blend until creamy. While running the blender or processor on low speed, slowly pour in the remaining olive oil in a thin, steady stream. The sauce should thicken into a creamy texture. Add vinegars, grated parmesan cheese, sugar, worst. sauce, and mustard. Blend completely. If the dressing appears too thick, add a little bit of water to achieve desired consistency. If dressing is too tart, add more oil and/or sugar (be careful not to add too much of either). If dressing is too oily, add more vinegar.

Step 4. Toss and serve salad. (Do NOT toss salad with dressing until you are ready to serve immediately. If you toss the salad and let it sit, it will become wilted and yucky.)

In an extra large salad bowl, toss the chilled, crisp lettuce with about ½ cup of dressing, making sure each piece of lettuce becomes coated with dressing. If you like more dressing, add it carefully, tossing well with each addition. After lettuce is tossed well with dressing, add shredded parmesan cheese, toss the salad again, well. Optional – add chopped anchovies, toss again. Add croutons to top of salad. Don’t toss again. SERVE IMMEDIATELY!

Step 5. Accept compliments graciously. ☺

Note: Extra dressing lasts about 1 week in the refrigerator. Store it in a closed container or your milk will taste like anchovies!

*Special note about anchovies: You cannot make a real Caesar salad without anchovies. Even if you hate anchovies, you’ll love this dressing. (Trust me, Pam Bova.) When you purchase your anchovy cans, buy the most expensive brand that is available and be careful not to purchase cans that are bulging. When you open the cans, if the can makes a popping sound, discard that can immediately! If the can opens smoothly, that’s good!

After you’ve opened the can, take a quick sniff of the anchovies. Freshly and properly canned anchovies smell good and are very yummy, but, nothing will turn you off faster than a rotten can of anchovies. Please give them a quick sniff-test! You’ll know right away if they’re bad. It’s my opinion that most people who say they hate anchovies have eaten or smelled bad anchovies in the past. Fish canning techniques are not consistent. I have had a few bad experiences, myself, with some bulging, popping cans! Just follow the above Bulge, Pop, and Sniff tests and you’ll be fine!

Dangers of Diet Drinks

2010-04-26T18:53:00.000-07:00

DIET COKE = DIET POISON
November, 2007
Excerpt from "In the Kitchen with Family and Friends" by Karen Lee

Beverages and foods sweetened with the chemical ASPARTAME, aspartyl-phenylalanine-1-methyl ester, also marketed under the names Equal, Nutrasweet, and Canderel SHOULD NOT BE EATEN. Aspartame is the sweetener in Diet Coke, Coke Zero, Diet Pepsi, Diet Sprite, Diet Root Beer, many other diet drinks, sugar-free chewing gum, and … The list includes approximately 6,000 prepackaged consumer foods.

For years, we’ve heard consumer advocates raving and ranting with serious concerns about aspartame, making claims that it causes headaches, brain tumors, brain lesions, and lymphoma. Blah, blah, blah, what do they want me to do? Drink real Coke and gain more weight? I don’t think so! A little diet soda now and then can’t be all that bad, right? …Wrong!

I was convinced of the danger while I was driving home from a recent agility competition, listening to NPR on the radio. Dr. Devra Davis, the senior research scientist who runs the Center for Environmental Oncology at the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute was the interviewee. Dr. Davis isn’t some wacko tree hugger (like some of us have been accused of being!); she’s a real scientist with a lengthy, reputable resume.

During the program, Dr. Davis discussed many probable causes of cancer, including excessive cell phone usage; exposure to pesticides, chemical cleaning agents, and unsafe cosmetics; and Diet Coke. She said that the reason she is particularly worried about diet drinks is because her institute research shows that aspartame probably causes slow growing BRAIN CANCER. Brain cancer can take as long as 20 to 30 years to show up; that’s why her research isn’t proven yet. Her concern is that an entire generation of diet drinkers is at risk for brain tumors that are insidiously growing now.

Even if you’re not worried about the possible link between aspartame and brain cancer, it’s an undisputed fact that when you drink diet soda, your body ingests aspartame and breaks it down into several residual chemicals, including formaldehyde, formic acid, aspartic acid, phenylalanine, and methanol.

Alrighty, then! No more diet sodas for me! I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to ingest formaldehyde in my body, not just yet. I’ll be drinking unsweetened iced tea, organic if possible, or good ol’ water from now on.

Why I Buy Organic Food

2010-04-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

Why I Buy Organic Foods
And Why You Should, Too!
November, 2007
Excerpt from "In the Kitchen with Family and Friends" by Karen Lee

The four main reasons why I grow, buy, cook, and eat organic foods are:
Health. Flavor. Health. and… Health.

Health and Pesticides

The first health reason that I eat organic is that USDA certified organic foods aren’t treated with artificial pesticides. Non-organic, conventionally grown fruits and vegetables are covered with pesticides, and most don’t wash off. Studies prove that chemical pollutants from pesticides are in the bloodstreams of some of us. Unfortunately, those pollutants don’t always flush out of our systems. Some of the chemicals found in blood are those that were banned more than 25 years ago!
Organophosphates are the most commonly used pesticides, and have been linked to poisonings, developmental and behavioral disorders, and motor dysfunction. This is serious stuff! I personally met a guy who told me that he had once popped a grape into his mouth while shopping at the grocery store. Within 24 hours, he was in the intensive care ward at the hospital, suffering from extreme toxemia from pesticides. Doctors told him he was lucky to be alive. He developed permanent hyper-sensitivity to pesticides and other chemicals from that unfortunate event.
Young children and babies are the most at risk due to exposure from pesticides in food. Pets can also become unhealthy from eating pesticide-laden foods. Just ask Cheepy Cheep how he feels about them! At the end of this commentary is a list of the fruits and vegetables that are grown with the most pesticides.

Organic Moo Cows

Organic milk and other dairy products are easy to find on your grocer’s shelves. It’s a no-brainer that you should buy organic dairy because non-organic cows usually have really unhealthy diets. What they eat goes into their milk, that you drink! Non-organic cows can be given grain and other feed products that are grown with pesticides, herbicides, and fungicides. Some of those chemicals bio-accumulate, which means they are absorbed into the grain, ingested by the cow, transferred to the cow’s milk, packaged in the milk carton, swallowed by the human, and retained in the human’s tissues permanently. The diet of non-organic cows can also include synthetic growth hormones and antibiotics.

Flavor

Grocery stores don’t always choose conventionally grown fruits and vegetables because of their flavor. They’re usually selected because of their appearance. Aren’t you just a little suspicious of perfect-looking fruit? Some conventional fruit displays almost look plastic to me. Colored oranges offend me the most. A perfectly-shaped, bright red apple that has a long shelf life must be more profitable for the grocery store to sell. Compared to the appearance of an organically grown, smaller, not bright red, gala apple, for instance, the conventional apple may appear more marketable.
I challenge you to a taste test! Buy a conventional ruby-red apple and an organic gala. After you WASH THE CONVENTIONAL APPLE, take a sample bite of each. You’ll be amazed at how much more delicious the organic apple tastes. This difference holds true with most fresh produce and dairy products. I LOVE the richer taste of organic milk, butter, and cream. Yum, yum, yum.

More Personal Health Concerns

Organic foods have not been genetically engineered, or irradiated. The FDA has not issued official concerns about either process which is allowed in conventional food production. Consumer advocacy groups, however, ARE concerned about the following potential health safety issues of eating GMOs (genetically modified organisms) and irradiated foods:

• Creation of new antibiotic-resistant super diseases by transference to humans from an antibiotic resistant gene inserted into most GM crops

• Increase in naturally occurring plant toxins that could happen with combination of artificially altered genes

• Decreased nutritional efficiency through altered DNA

• A new class of chemicals, cyclobutanones, formed when food is irradiated, may cause genetic and cellular damage in humans and animals

None of the above health threats is recognized (yet) by the FDA, but why take the risk? Eat organic and you and your children will be safe!

Organic Farming for a Healthier Environment

The use of chemical pesticides and synthetic fertilizers is destructive to our environment. They pollute the air we breathe and the water we drink. The fragile balance of ecosystems is permanently altered when pesticides indiscriminately kill insects, including butterflies, birds, frogs, lizards, and other wildlife. Mining, production, and use of synthetic fertilizers cause algae blooms in waterways, fish kills, and respiratory problems, just to name a few.
What you buy and what you eat not only affects your personal health, but the health of our planet.

Inconvenience of Going Organic

When I stated that I “grow, buy, cook, and eat organic foods,” I didn’t mean to imply that I ONLY eat organic, because that’s, unfortunately, almost impossible given our lifestyle. We eat out at restaurants, have dinner at friends’, and often make unwise shopping choices due to inconvenience or lack of sense. If you eat organically as often as possible, and continue to increase the percentage of your consumption of organic vs. conventional foods you are minimizing your dietary health risks.
News Flash! Eating all of the organic foods you can get your hands on will not make you healthy if you eat too much! Organic sugar is easy to find on the grocery shelves, along with organic cookies, chips, and high-calorie fruit drinks! Just because it’s “organic” doesn’t give you the green light to consume! You can still be organically unhealthy if you’re too chubby!

Cost of Going Organic

Organic products can often be more expensive than conventional foods in the grocery store, but it slays me when people choose not to spend $2 more for a gallon of organic milk, and then spend $10 or more on a bottle of wine! What sense does that make? When considering the cost of going organic, in the sagacious words of my sister Susan,

“How much is your health worth?”

It’s your choice.

Grocery Shopping Tips

2010-04-26T18:48:00.001-07:00

Grocery Shopping Tips
November, 2007
Excerpt from "In the Kitchen with Family and Friends" by Karen Lee

With all the mind-boggling issues about the health and safety of food, how can anyone go grocery shopping without being depressed? I follow the steps below when making my selections, and I still have a lot of fun in the grocery store!

1, USDA ORGANIC
If food has the organic certification, I consider it safe to purchase as long as it’s fresh and not full of sugar or sodium. If I have more than one organic brand to choose from, I next check the company label to see where the product came from. I buy the organic product that came from a grower or supplier closest to the grocery store where I’m shopping.

2. INGREDIENTS TO AVOID IN CONVENTIONAL FOODS
It’s very important to take a little extra time and read the labels on the food you intend to feed yourself and your family. Simply do a quick scan of the list of ingredients, and if any of the following ingredients show up, put that item back on the grocer’s shelf.

NO - MONOSODIUM GLUTAMATE (MSG)
NO - ASPARTAME, EQUAL, NUTRASWEET
NO – BHA or BHT
NO - NO BY-PRODUCTS FROM MEAT OR POULTRY
NO - Margarine

I also try to avoid:

HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP
HYDROGENATED OILS
BLEACHED FLOUR (“Enriched” flour is usually bleached)
SODIUM NITRITE (cured bacon and most hot dogs)
ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS, COLORS, & PRESERVATIVES

3. FRESH PRODUCE
Fresh fruits and vegetables, grown locally, in season are your best healthy choices. If you want produce that isn’t available fresh, choose canned or jarred selections before frozen. More nutrients are lost in the freezing process than in the canning process.

Grocery Shopping Tips, continued

4. EXPIRATION DATES

I always check the dates stamped on refrigerated selections. Grocery stores will place the oldest item toward the front or on the top of the stack. If an item looks a little haggard, I’ll grab a fresh one with a date farther in the future from the back of the stack. Sometimes you can safely buy a product that’s on sale because it’s approaching its expiration date. Be careful, though. Beef is usually pretty safe if it has been refrigerated continuously, but outdated poultry can make you really, really sick, even if you cook it thoroughly.

5. GO LOCAL

It doesn’t make sense to buy oranges from California when you live in Florida and it doesn’t make sense to buy cheese from Wisconsin when you live in Vermont. It makes even less sense to buy produce from Peru, Mexico, or Chile when almost every conceivable food item is grown here in the USA. We consumers contribute to global warming when we choose to buy products that are shipped thousands of miles in diesel-powered freight trucks. Read the labels! Be a smart shopper! It makes a difference!

6. BORN IN THE USA!

I don’t buy fresh produce that is grown outside of the USA, unless it is USDA certified organic (the USDA does certify many foreign products like bananas) and unless an American brand is unavailable. It’s my opinion that it is too risky to trust the agricultural practices in other countries. Our own government has a big enough challenge regulating health standards here at home. Another reason for buying American products is to help support the American farmer and our domestic economy.

Eating Healthy

2010-04-26T18:43:00.000-07:00

Eating Healthy
November, 2007
Excerpt from "In the Kitchen with Family and Friends" by Karen Lee

So many different diet plans are out there right now that it makes it hard to know what to believe, and what to eat. From the small amount of research that I have done for this book, I have learned that there are several synthetic foods that should be avoided, including monosodium glutamate (MSG), aspartame (Equal & Diet Coke), hydrogenated oils, high fructose corn syrup, and others (see the list in the Grocery Shopping section). I also have learned that fatty acids are important, as are complex carbohydrates (whole grains and fresh vegetables).

The debate among dieticians, nutritionists, and physicians regarding the healthiest diet continues. As a person who loves to eat and loves to cook, and consequently is in a life-long struggle with excess weight, my goals are to try to …

Eat less
Our typically large eating portions are out of control. Less food is actually plenty of food! Many of the recipes in this book are heavy and rich, and should probably be enjoyed only on special occasions.

While compiling these recipes, I was concerned about encouraging my friends and family to prepare such apparently “fattening” foods. I discussed those concerns with my mom, Flo, who is a very healthy septuagenarian (she is younger than some 40 year-olds that I know). She reminded me that our Aunt Clara always ate a diet of very rich foods (some recipes included in this book), including heavy cream, real butter, lots of eggs, cheese, and meat. (And, she enjoyed her cocktail hour, too!) Aunt Clara lived to be 91 years old! She never counted carbs…I doubt she had even heard of them! The one thing she didn’t do was eat big portions. She thought “going for seconds” was rude and impolite. Aunt Clara ate anything she desired, but never “pigged out.”

Mom pointed out that very good food is very satisfying, so you shouldn’t need a LOT of food to be truly satisfied.

Eat slower
Instead of wolfing down the food on my plate, I’m going to try to enjoy my meals longer and let my stomach become full with less food.

Eat smarter
Cut way down on white flour and other starchy foods with “empty” calories.

Eat healthier.
Reduce risk of various types of cancer by avoiding synthetic foods and sweeteners. Go Organic!

Eat in balance
After cooking a heavy dinner one night, plan a lighter meal for the following night (or two!).

Eat fewer calories
Avoid sugary beverages and desserts. Indulge infrequently…save those sweets for special occasions.

Exercise more
Walk, hike, jog, swim, or bike for at least half an hour, at least 4 times a week.

NOTE: Although I’m particular about avoiding monosodium glutamate because of potential health hazards, not everyone else is concerned. Millions of healthy people eat MSG everyday with no apparent problems. Some of the recipes in this book include pre-packaged mixes that may (or may not) contain MSG. I’m not familiar with every ingredient included in these recipes, so be advised, and make your own choices. If you’re concerned about any pre-packaged products as ingredients, I’m sure you can find natural substitutes that would yield similar, good-tasting results.

Cheepy Cheep

2010-04-26T18:42:00.000-07:00

Our Cardinal in the Coal Mine

My mom, Flo, has a very caring heart, the kind of heart that urges her to rescue homeless cats and stray dogs and baby birds fallen (or ejected) from their nests. When we Greene children were growing up, scores of wild baby birds were raised in our home. While not all survived, many were raised, rehabilitated, and happily released back to their natural environment. She rescued a baby squirrel that, for a time, became a beloved member of our family. Junior the Squirrel even had his own bedroom with unscreened windows slightly opened to the outside world. He could come and go as he wished to pursue his tree climbing pleasures. Sort of like doggy-doors, those were squirrel-windows. The story of Junior is an interesting one, but this is the story of Cheepy Cheep, our Cardinal in the Coal Mine.
Cheepy Cheep first came into Flo’s life after my sister Susan discovered his pitiful featherless body lying on the ground beneath one of her oak trees. She contacted Mom the Animal Rescuer who immediately took the unfortunate chick under her wing, so to speak. Before Susan found him, Cheepy was definitely on his way to an extremely abbreviated life. Mom figures that he had just hatched moments before his fall, and had probably been ejected by his parents because he appeared to be unhealthy and deformed. All infant birds are unattractive when they are first born. Most baby birds have few or no feathers at first, and their skins are so thin that you can easily see their internal organs. Mom was accustomed the usual ugly chick syndrome, but this particular baby was extraordinarily homely. One of his eyes had been destroyed, either pecked out or diseased, and his body was curled and rather gnarly. It was impossible to tell what species he was.
Every creature deserves an opportunity at life, in Mom’s caring view. So, on August 8, 1990, she took him home and began a remarkably long relationship that would affect her life, and ours, in many ways. As an experienced former wild chick rescuer, Flo knew a lot about the dietary requirements of infant birds. She fed Cheepy mashed up hard boiled eggs and NO water (years ago, we had unknowingly killed several baby birds by feeding them water droplets). He also got Gerber’s baby rice and Gerber’s pureed baby fruits fed through an eye dropper. When he was able to feed himself, he graduated to fresh fruit and Hartz bird seed.
Cheepy grew to adulthood, but remained the ugliest bird you have ever seen. His empty eye socket was continually oozy and quite gross looking, he was skinny and still a bit gnarly, and he never grew enough feathers to be able to determine if he was a cardinal, a blue jay, or some other unknown species. Of course, he never flew and could never be released, but he had a safe comfortable home in his cage in Flo’s bedroom. Under Mom’s continual care including meals of standard grocery store pet bird food and warm baths once every week, Cheepy lived a marginally healthy life for eight years. As he aged, he gradually started to show signs of poorer physical condition, becoming weak and even less attractive.
Flo took him to a local bird veterinarian who, after performing a complete exam including blood analysis, diagnosed him as having nutritional deficiencies. The doctor prescribed an improved diet of fresh fruits and vegetables, and, (get this:) the “Bits” from the dog food “Kibbles’n’Bits.” Not the Kibbles, mind you, just the Bits. Evidently, the Bits contain high amounts of vitamin A, of which poor Cheepy was very deficient. Now, since Cheepy was not supposed to eat the Kibbles, Mom had to hand pick out the Bits every week and put them aside for Cheepy’s daily vitamin A ration. (Sweetie, Mom’s wonderful dog whom she of course rescued, inherited the Kibbles.) Under this new and improved diet regimen, Cheepy almost immediately showed signs of improvement. He grew a full cover of red feathers, and even sprouted a little crest! It turned out that he really was a cardinal, after all!
Flo’s life with Cheepy continued another six years, with Mom diligently picking Bits, chopping his favorite fresh fruits, including strawberries, and vegetables everyday, and arranging for qualified, specially trained Cheepy sitters (AKA: Bits Pickers) whenever she traveled.
Cheepy turned the ripe old age of fourteen years old. Most of us began to wonder just how long cardinals actually live. When he started to again show signs of declining health, this time losing all of his pretty plumage, Flo thought it was probably old age finally taking its toll. But, just in case he could be helped, she took him to the bird vet again. This time, the vet referred her to a bird specialist. Mom, of course, took Cheepy to the specialist…a well informed professional who changed Mom’s life.
For many years, we had all known that eating organically grown foods is better for us and is better for our environment. We didn’t know that not eating organic foods was probably making us sick, and was poisoning Cheepy Cheep. Dr. Curtis, the bird specialist, informed my mom that the amount of pesticides on one single conventionally grown strawberry is enough to kill a bird. According to Dr. Curtis, it was amazing that Cheepy was alive at all. She prescribed an emergency switch in his diet to 100 percent organic foods, referring Flo to Harrison Foods for the purchase of organic bird mash. Within just one week of the removal the toxins from his diet, Cheepy recovered completely. His plumage regrew and he became actually beautiful for the first time in his life. He pranced and danced around his cage with a full male cardinal’s crest, and began to sing recognizable cardinal songs. It was strange for me when I visited my mom to hear the melodious, familiar tune of a male cardinal coming from INSIDE her house.
At the time of this writing, November of 2007, Cheepy’s diet is still 100% organic. Mom still chops fresh fruits and vegetables for him daily, but nowadays, none are grown with pesticides or synthetic fertilizers. Cheepy is more beautiful and healthier than ever, and celebrated his 17th birthday this year with organic strawberries. I’m very pleased to say that my mom has also changed her own diet to include mostly organically grown foods.
Cheepy Cheep is truly our Cardinal in the Coal Mine. Humans are obviously bigger than birds, and, in most cases, more tolerant to the toxins found in conventionally grown foods. But, we should learn a lesson from Cheepy’s life. We truly ARE what we eat. We should be careful to avoid poisoning ourselves whenever we can.
We should all eat organic and live healthier more beautiful lives, like Cheepy Cheep does!

*Update April 21, 2010: Cheepy Cheep is now almost twenty years old, and is appears more healthy than he was in 2007. His plumage is bright red, and his crest is tall and proud. His favorite food de jour is organic blueberries. He dances around his cage happily and sings joyously when his human family brings blueberries to his plate. What a lucky bird!

I wonder what the lifespan of a cardinal is?????

Stinky and the Bear

2010-04-26T18:38:00.000-07:00

Stinky and The Bear
June 15, 2008

Written after our winter trip to Florida, the year we picked up our long-awaited LTD Edition Bunkey’s the Ticket puppy.
It was great to get home to Vermont. It was a really long trip, for everyone, although it was wonderful seeing our family along the way, and especially great having Flo with us.

The weather is SO-O-O nice here for us and our dogs. They never overheat, and are running and swimming to their hearts' content. Yes, the family is happy together once again. The dogs run loose in the yard at the same time, with no dangerous conflicts between each other. I think it was mainly Bunkey (our new puppy) who made peace by deciding to stay away from Stinky's space. Bunkey's been getting smart lately. She still sucks up to Carly a lot, but she's pretty careful not to get in Stinky's face. It's not entirely perfect, because now that Stinky has given Bunkey an inch, Bunkey continually tries to take a mile. Yesterday, Miss Personality tried to take Stinky's toy directly out of Stinky's mouth. Not a good idea. But, the good news is that, instead of killing Bunkey, Stinky nipped her on her nose. It was the perfect lesson. Enough pain to get B's attention, with no blood. I was really proud of Stinky.
I have another story to relate about Stinky, involving a BEAR!

Yesterday, I was in our yard watching Bunkey swim in the pond, and Stinky took off toward the road (about 100 yards away -- we live on a quiet, deadend, unpaved mountain road), barking like a fiend. I assumed she was attacking one of the neighbors who was innocently walking her dog, and called Stinky off. Stinky wouldn't come back to me, instead she intensified her barking. So, I squinted toward the road to see what was up. I had just moments before taken our bulging garbage cans to the end of the driveway in anticipation of the garbage truck, and I saw a large black dog head poking into one of the cans. ... No, wait a minute! That's not a dog, it's too big -- that must be a wolf! No -- my gawd -- that's a BEAR! A BEAR! In my garbage can, actively eating stale catfood (extremely reinforcing for the bear).
OK, you must try to picture the scene: Stinky was only ten feet away from the bear, bravely barking her head off! Our four month old dumbass puppy was running loose. I was screaming for Stinky to come, worried that she might get into a life threatening altercation with the 200-pound Ursus. All that barking and screaming caused the puppy to go berserk! Bunkey thought, Something really exciting must be up! So she grabbed her SQUEAKY toy, and started running laps around the yard. No kidding, she was right: something was definitely up -- Stinky was trying to fend off an obviously hungry, post-hibernation, bear that was being teased by a tasty young squeaking prey animal running laps right in its face.

Now, I'm a very calm person in emergencies when it involves humans, even in life threatening situations. I have references. But, when it comes to my family pets, I totally lose my shit and freak out. I have references for that, too. So, all of the dog training I have learned and have taught went out my brain, and I started screaming at Bunkey to come, and started chasing her. I even threw a stick at her trying to get her to stop running. Of course, there was no way she would come to me under those conditions. The more I chased, the more she ran laps, the more Stinky barked at the bear, and the more time the bear was rewarded by eating the garbage. The scene was an excerpt from a Peter Sellers' movie.
At least five full minutes went by, I'm not kidding, before my calm husband the hero (he has references, too) came to the rescue. (He had, uh, been indisposed in the salle de bain during event and pulled up his pants in a rush when he heard the elevated level of screaming.) He walked out onto the porch shaking the special dog cookie jar, and Stinky and Carly (who had, early on, chosen prudence as the better part of valor and was hiding under the coffee table) came running to him. Seeing the big dogs' interest in the cookies, Bunkey came in the house, too. Shwew!

OK, the dogs were secure, but what about the bear in the garbage cans? Jim got in the car and drove, with Stinky inside, down the driveway. I grabbed my walking stick (I'm sure the bear was intimated by a hollow aluminum pole) and started yelling, "Go away, Bear!" (I saw that on the Animal Planet.) Finally impressed by the honking car, barking dog, yelling man, and insane woman, the bear grabbed one of garbage bags and dragged it across the road into the woods. We continued to yell and pitch a fit until the bear gave up, walked up the hill about 100 yards and recrossed the road into the woods behind our house, sans garbage.

We heard it rustling around for a few more minutes on the hill until it evidently left the immediate vicinity. Jim went and picked up the garbage that had been dragged into the woods across the road while Stinky and I stayed on our posts as lookouts. The garbage truck showed up just as Jim was cramming the last remnants in the can. The garbage man, a lifelong Vermonter, was very impressed by our bear encounter. He had never seen one, ever, and had never heard of a bear stealing garbage in broad daylight in front of people. Oh, great! We were the lucky ones to have Arlington, Vermont's, first non-fearful bear on OUR property! Lucky us.

Anyway, this story is about STINKY the Wonder Dog, not about the bear. Our Stinky can do no wrong! After the garbage man left, Stinky patrolled our property perimeter. Her posture and gait were stiff, her coat was all puffed up -- she was on full alert. She returned after her circuit and proudly announced that the coast (so to speak) was clear. Bear Gone! Evicted from our house, thanks to Stinky!

So, if Stinky nips and snarls at the puppy a little for trying to steal her toy, that's OK with me, because she's our savior! Stinky has been really depressed since the arrival of LTD Edition Bunkey's the Ticket, Miss Personality, Miss Perfect Breeding, Mommy's little Prima Donna. But today after the bear encounter, Stinky is no longer depressed. She now knows her place in our family as the Protector of Us All. Her attitude has improved one hundred percent, she's very happy.

By the way, no more sightings of the bear, thanks I'm sure, to Stinky's regular perimeter patrols and ferocious barking while on the job.

Happy trails to you from Summer Hill!

November 2009 AKC Report

2009-11-22T15:05:00.000-08:00

(Unless you have time to waste, skip to page four for the results of Bunkey’s first AKC trial. The first three pages are literal verbosity dedicated to some of my personal experiences in AKC agility.)

It’s been more than four years since I’ve participated in AKC agility. Stinky and I had a bad experience at an AKC trial held in West Palm Beach. It was a very crowded event -- I’d guess that about 500 dogs were entered. The facility was covered with a non-insulated corrugated metal roof, perfect for noise amplification from barking dogs and yelling people, not so perfect for dogs that are sound sensitive and stressed out. On the grounds, immediately adjacent to the agility building, a major construction project was underway. Heavy equipment created more noise, including the BEEP, BEEP, BEEP of back-up warning signals, screeching metal and scraping concrete from backhoe buckets, and POW, POW, POW of a pressurized nail gun. Being an obsessed agility person, I was able to block out the din.

The agility event had two rings, with less than eight feet of spacing between them, and the ring entrance gates were located immediately across from each other. There was not enough room for dogs and people to maneuver without coming nose to nose and nose to tail. Despite all the pressure of the environment, and I decided to run my Stinky dog, a super-sensitive, high-drive, resource-protection border-collie-mutant rescue dog. I was oblivious. The sound and close quarters were no more than slightly annoying and didn’t distract me from the important tasks of getting to the start line on time and making sure that I had plenty of treats for Stinky along the way. I didn’t notice the whites of Stinky’s eyes as her dilated pupils scanned the area anxiously.

To make a long story shorter, the bottom line is that Stinky bit another BC in the butt just as the dog was entering the ring to take its turn. At the time, it happened so quickly, I wasn’t certain that she had actually made contact with dog’s flank. The dog appeared unfazed, and nearly had a clean run. It was Stinky’s turn next, and it wasn’t until she jumped on the pause table when I noticed a spot of blood, left by her unwitting victim who had run before, that I realized she had actually bitten the dog.

Uh oh.

All hell broke loose for me and Stinky, lots of wagging tongues (from humans), a written complaint report to AKC, and many tears, much humiliation, regret and remorse from me. The dog that was bitten was physically okay. The wound was superficial and required no stitches. Thank goodness for rough coated border collies. You had to really search to find the bite site. I was very happy that Stinky hadn’t done any serious damage to the dog. The damage that was done was to our AKC career.

We didn’t get an official reprimand from AKC, because the written complaint was never filed, thanks to political pressure applied by my friends and the few, but fiercely loyal fans that Stinky had accumulated over her brief agility career. I learned my lesson, though, and decided to avoid AKC events for a while.

Comparing AKC, USDAA, and NADAC dog agility, I determined the following differences. AKC has significantly more expensive entry fees per run, and has fewer runs per day at each trial. AKC courses are generally tighter and require more technical handling than either of the other venues. Most AKC events are located indoors or in covered arenas, environments that are often more stressful for the canine competitors. AKC doesn’t allow mixed breed dogs to compete, a policy that I found snobbish and unappealing.

USDAA offers courses that have plenty of technical challenges, while NADAC courses are more open and actually appear to be more enjoyable for the dogs. Both organizations allow three, four, or even five runs per day, for much lower entry fees per run than AKC. Most USDAA and NADAC events in my area were held outdoors and weren’t as crowded as AKC trials. The decision to discontinue my participation in AKC seemed like a no-brainer for me, especially in light of Stinky’s unhappy episode. So, I stopped my MACH quest with Carly (it wasn’t going there, anyway) and continued to participate in agility strictly in USDAA and NADAC events. (I never started with CPE or ASCA because I couldn’t afford the cost of doing every type of agility offered.) I made sure to enter trials that were held outdoors, where Stinky wouldn’t be subjected to the stress of being in close quarters with other dogs.

Along the way during the past four years, I lost a lot of enthusiasm for my chosen sport. I had lots of reasons for my waning interest in agility, the principal one being that Carly and I just couldn’t get it together. I thought that maybe I was just getting bored with the sport in general. My lack of passion for agility certainly couldn’t have been caused because I stopped doing AKC events.

When Bunkey was finally born last year (early 2008), I made a significant effort to summon my former over-the-top passion for agility. For more than five years, I made a REAL BIG DEAL about nagging my friend Annette (the world’s best, most responsible dog breeder) to breed her Saga (whose talent I dearly coveted) so I could have a puppy. Then, at last, there was my little Dream Dog, LTD Edition Bunkey’s the Ticket … but where was my spark?

I went through the motions of training the perfect agility puppy, seeking advice from Annette and other experts as we progressed. Yes, Bunkey had the talent. No doubt about that! But, would I be able to rise to the challenge? Could I rekindle my dedication to agility? Had too much time gone by, too many years of failure followed by declining interest? (Not to mention the fact that advanced middle age had set in!)

Our first two agility events were wonderful successes – a single day of NADAC and two days of USDAA. Bunkey was so fabulous that I thought I started to feel that endorphin rush that I would get from a rare clean, fast run with Carly. Maybe there was hope for me, after all! I decided to try AKC again, and entered two days of the Thanksgiving Cluster held in Massachusetts by LEAP. I paid almost $100 to enter a total of four runs that would last less than 35 seconds each. Those entry fees were in addition, of course, to even higher expenses for hotel room and gasoline.

Bunkey and I attended the show by ourselves, because Jim had to work on Friday. He, very kindly, took care of Stinky and Carly while we were gone. I didn’t sleep well the night before the trial because Bunkey was nervous in the hotel room without her doggy sib’s. She startled me awake at least half a dozen times, bursting forth with a loud “WOO-WOO-WOOF!!”, anytime someone walked down the hall outside our room. I’m sure she nearly caused me to have cardiac arrest. While in route later that morning, our first day of the event, my GPS tried to take me the wrong way. Of course, I had planned to sleep as late as possible, allowing no extra time for problems. Bunkey had to be measured, so I should’ve planned to arrive early. Instead, mine was one of the last cars to pull into the vast parking lot, several hundred yards from the door. I was slightly panicked when Bunkey and I ran into the building.

The Thanksgiving Cluster was a hugely attended venue, by dog venue standards. Literally thousands of dogs were entered in agility, breed conformation, obedience, and rally events. Thousands of dog owners, trainers, professional handlers, spectators, vendors, and food concessionaires were housed in three huge indoor pavilions that were very loud and very crowded. Background noise was at a high decibel rate from constantly barking dogs, people yelling over each other, to each other and to their dogs, and announcements continually broadcast over a loud speaker. The agility competition was held in four rings, all running simultaneously. As usual in AKC trials, dogs were forced to confront each other nose to nose and nose to tail.

My heart quickened from the stimulation, and I checked my little Bunkey dog to see how she was holding up. She appeared jazzed by the atmosphere and tried to pull me to the closest agility ring. She didn’t appear to be bothered by the other dogs, people and noise. It turned out that we weren’t late after all, I had plenty of time to have Bunkey measured (18 7/8 inches) and watch the little dogs run the novice standard course. With toy/pacifier in her mouth, Bunkey lay by my chair and watched with me, intent but remarkably calm.

Our first AKC standard run was almost perfect. She stayed at the start, nailed her contacts (which I held for two seconds each), dropped into a down on the table while she was in midair, stayed for an extra two count, missed the weave entry, got it right on her second try, and we finished with a score of 100 in 35 seconds. At the end, she quickly brought me her leash and hopped up into my arms, as if she’d been doing AKC agility trials forever. I asked her, “Who are you, little girl? You’re amazing!” She replied, “Mom, get a grip. It’s no big deal. It’s only Novice. Don’t you remember…I was bred for this!”

With more than 50 dogs entered in our height, Bunkey took first place by more than three seconds.

Jumpers wasn’t the same type of experience. I had brought her out too early before her turn, and had let her watch the other dogs run for too long. The stress got to her and she couldn’t concentrate long enough to finish all SIX weave poles. She had to try the weaves four times and got more and more frustrated each time (I should’ve pulled her out, I know, but…). Her baby’s brain was fried. After the weave poles she was sucked in by the tunnel for a disqualifying off course.

The next day’s results were similar. She had a qualifying Standard run (Not first place because I had forgotten to train her to Sit on the table and we wasted at least 10 seconds, arguing about the proper way to perform the table. She thought I had lost my marbles, asking her to sit when she was clearly doing a perfect table. The more I asked her to sit, the lower into a Down her body would go. She finally, begrudgingly, gave in, and raised herself up about two inches into what the Judge finally conceded might have been a Sit. I didn’t think the Judge would ever start counting, but she did.) Our Jumpers run was almost perfect, but the tunnel sucked in the Bunkster, once again, for an off course. I was disappointed that we didn’t qualify, but overall, I was happy, because Bunkey and I had connected as a real team (other than the split second the tunnel grabbed her attention more than I did). She and I ran fast together, and she jumped very well. The most significant thing was that I rediscovered my Agility Mojo. As I had a long ago with Carly, I felt the rush, the high that comes for those of us wacko agilitizers after a fast run.

Maybe it was the heightened excitement caused by the atmosphere at the AKC trial that helped trigger the rush, I’m not sure. Maybe it happened because I am starting to believe that I can actually train and handle a high-drive agility dog. I don’t care what caused it, I’m just really, really happy that it happened.

Whoo-Hoo! I’m BACK!

Bunkey's 1st USDAA

2009-11-01T18:47:00.000-08:00

So this is how it feels to have a good dog.

After more than ten under-achieving years in agility with Carly and Stinky, I have paid my dues and deserve my little Dream Dog, Bunkey. She truly is the Ticket. Before I describe Bunkey's first USDAA trial, I must provide some personal history and explain that my heretofore failures in agility weren't Carly's fault. Carly and I started agility back in the old days, before 90 percent of agility handlers ran BC's. Although it's now commonplace, ten years ago it was a real show-stopping event when a super fast border collie flew around an agility course. Carly was awesome, full of drive, incredible speed, intensity, ability...all of the talents that have the potential to make a fabulous agility dog. Yessiree, we attracted a LOT of attention, while she was spinning and barking and I was flailing and yelling as we made our way around the ring. Many times she'd spin so much in front of the weave pole entrance that I thought she'd surely screw herself right into the ground! I'm pretty certain the phrase, "Great dog, too bad about the handler," was originally coined by a spectator watching us. Carly's career as an agility star was doomed at the get-go, because she was my first agility dog and my first BC. She taught me that foundation training is EVERYTHING, and her foundation training sucked. (Dogs ALWAYS default to their earliest learned behaviors.)

The fact that she never succeeded in agility wasn't really my fault (I didn't know any better at the time), and it wasn't her fault (it's NEVER the dog's fault)-- it just was what it was. So, we had a frustrating competitive career together. We both tried valiantly to overcome her first learned behaviors, but it was not to be... We always suffered with unreliable stays at the start, contacts that were worse than her start-line stays, no rear crosses, and a host of other issues. It's impossible to exaggerate the frustration, embarrassment, and thousands of dollars in monetary expense (including wasted entry fees, seminars, and private lessons from world-class trainers) that I endured trying to fix our problems. I learned a lot, but was unable to overcome them.

Then came Stinky, our BC mix that we rescued from the side of a highway.

I taught her 2-on/2-off contacts, solid start-line stays, rear crosses, and weave entries from any angle. Unfortunately, Stinky developed serious mental health issues along the way (I'm not sure why, but my story is that I blame her craziness on problems that she must have had prior to her rescue, and I'm sticking to it! Although, we did find her when she was a puppy!) When she was 3 years old, she became dog aggressive and out-of-control berserk in the agility ring, so our agility career never got past Advanced and Ex A and we were down-right lucky to get there!

Don't get me wrong -- although neither of my dogs ever earned a MACH, ADCH, or NATCH, I still had a really good time in agility. Our Q ratio was way less than 10%, in fact I'm pretty sure I hold the world record for longest ever No-Q dry spell. Carly and I once did 76 AKC runs in a row with no Q's! The good thing about not Q'ing very often is that when you do qualify -- it feels really, really great. Well, that's enough about my pathetic past agility career...

At long last, in February 2008, after waiting five years for the perfect breeding from Saga X Sooner (thank you, Annette), here comes little Bunkey.

Needless to say, at this point, I have a lot invested in this puppy. I'm not referring to money. This is strictly an emotional investment. Her success as a agility dog will (or will not) improve my self-esteem or send me on a tailspin toward depression. I know it's wacked to elevate a sport, especially a dog sport, to this level. The only defense I have is that I'm not alone. I don't understand why we're this way, but there are lots of people that are similarly wacked. I can name dozens of people who place just as much (maybe even more? Hmmm...) importance on success in dog agility. We nut-jobs have multiple agility dogs, we spend most of our disposable incomes on training and entry fees (after the expense of organic dog food, of course), we go into debt to buy RV's so our dogs can travel in comfort to agility events, and some of us maintain two residences (north and south) that we can barely afford, just so that our dogs have the perfect training climate year-round. I'm not alone in this obsession, as I mentioned -- I'm just fully in the thick of this insanity. ... Happily there, I might add...

After providing careful foundation training for my precious puppy (which I have already screwed up somewhat and am diligently in the process of correcting), I tentatively entered our first USDAA trial hosted by YAgility in CT on Halloween weekend, 2009. Since you now know my history, you'll understand that I was nervous, anxious, sick to my stomach, optimistic, hopeful, excited ... all of the above, and more.

Our first run of the day was Gamblers. I counted on Q'ing in this event, and planned to use the opportunity to proof contacts. I laid out a reasonable, flowing course for the opening that would allow us to be in good position for the gamble which looked like a piece of cake, given that we were in Starters. I led out past the first jump, looked back at my little wonderdog and prayed a silent 2-count (proofing her stay). She didn't budge (TG) and I said OK. Jump, tire, tunnel, go weave. She flew past the weave entry, I called her back to restart, missed again. Oops. Let's try again. Oops. Again. Oops. I was SHOCKED and disappointed because her weaves are usually spot-on. We have worked entries a LOT at home, with great success. The buzzer sounded and we proceeded to the gamble section, which was the piece of cake expected, but earned no Q. At that point, I wasn't worried, just a little disappointed, and looked forward to our next run.

Our first standard run was almost perfect. Solid stay, excellent contacts, fast table down, no dropped bars, no off courses, fast and flowing, EXCEPT she popped out of the weaves twice before she got it right. It was a qualifying run! We won no placement ribbon because, "Why?", you might ask? Because I held her contacts, thank you very much! That was a first for me! I also had her stay on the table for an extra 2-count before I released her. That Q was better than the any blue ribbon I've ever had.

Our next run was pairs. I suggested to my partner (a stranger to me) that Bunkey not run the half that had the weaves, for obvious reasons. She said her dog was really slow in the weaves, but I was OK with that. We qualified no problem, perfect run on both halves, our partner's slow weaves were offset by Bunkey's blazing speed on her half (even though I again held her contact at the Aframe and see saw).

Our qualifying ratio the first day was 2 for 3. I was very happy.

I also ran Carly and Stinky in one event each that day, which were train wrecks, and treated Carly to a massage. The canine massage therapist told me that Carly had significant heat in 3 locations (elbow, back, hips). Maybe I should retire her?

The second day started with Snooker for Bunkey. I was slightly terrified. Did I have the focus from that little girl to resist taking off course obstacles? Oh well, it's only for fun! ... Of course, I'm greedy and planned a course that would earn high points. Not a prudent choice for a green baby dog, but I am what I am. I did a lead way out past the first red jump to the 7 point obstacle which was the seesaw facing in the opposite direction. Pause, breathe, OK. Here she comes. Red jump. ONE! Come, come, see saw. SEVEN! Hold the contact, OK. Run way around the outside to the next red jump. (Bunkey -- "WTF, Mom?") Amazingly, she stayed with me without spinning or barking. What a dog. Red jump. ONE! My plan was to take a 4 point obstacle in the center, but Bunkey got the Aframe in her sights and was up and over the top before I could react. Not being my first-day-in-Dodge, nor my first-think-on-the-fly-in-Snooker, I tried to regroup and asked her real quick to bump-it, but it was too late because she realized it was the wrong obstacle. She flew off half way down to come back to me. ZERO! No problem. Keep going. We headed toward the next red jump, passing by 2 other jumps and a tunnel. Way hard, but she was focused. ONE! Onto the next obstacle -- Tire. FOUR! I was thinking, "OMG! We've actually made it to the closing section. Unbelievable! Keep it together now. Home stretch." TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! Thumbs UP! Bunkey Q'ed in SNOOKER on her first try! What a dog. Missed first place because of the zero point Aframe, but who gives a sh--? Not me!

Next run was our second standard run. Again, almost a perfect run, similar to the first day, except her weaves were a little better. Only had to retry once. Held all contacts and extended the table stay and still got first place.

Now, at this point in the weekend, I cannot begin to tell you how over-the-top happy I was with my little girl. We had Q'ed 4 out of 5 runs. That's an 80% qualifying ratio. Now I know it's only Starters, but remember where I came from. I didn't know anyone at this trial, I recognized some faces and dogs from the few trials I've done with Carly and Stinky, but no one knew me (TG). But, Bunkey sure did turn lots of heads! "Where did you get her?" "She's amazing!" "What a cute dog...and so fast!" I was walking around the arena in a daze with a stupid smile plastered on my face. I'm not kidding -- my heart was about to burst. A friendly, wizened fellow that handles a fast BC came up to me and said, "Your little dog really is something special! You've done a great job of training her. Wow!" That compliment was more than I could take. Tears of joy started leaking down my chubby cheeks. I know it's goofy, but it's true.

Stinky ran another train wreck of a standard run. What a wacko. Screamed the whole way around, crashed mulitiple jumps, had lots of off courses, fly off's, the whole shebang. I didn't care, I had a Bunkey dog to redeem my reputation.

After the previous day's report from the massage therapist, I had considered pulling Carly from her only event that day -- PIII Jumpers (16"). I decided to walk the course and see if it looked easy for her. It was perfectly designed for Carly. No left turns that required a rear cross (she's sight impaired in her left eye), and no tight turns. So, I decided it would be her retirement run. I asked her if she wanted to go, and she enthusiastically said yes, of course. Tugged, barked, and pulled toward the ring just like usual. This is it, Carly, one last time. Stay. I turned my back to lead out past the first jump and she broke her stay, just like usual, and passed me by, just like usual. Our final run was just like the old days, with the exception that I didn't worry about the numbers on the course. She did about a dozen jumps and we hauled ass toward the finish, with Carly certain that she had run clean and fast. I didn't tell her otherwise. I rewarded her with her frisbee, just like usual, and told her she had won a blue ribbon and that she would always be my best girl.

I had signed up to be the timer in the next event which was just about to start running, only a few minutes after Carly's retirement run. I sat in the timer's chair and started to cry for real. So much emotion was manifested in that moment -- sadness for Carly's retirement and her old age and infirmities, regret for not achieving what could have been with her because she such a great dog. Those thoughts came too soon after the intense high of Bunkey's earlier successes. It almost wasn't fair to Carly that Bunkey should do so well on the day of Carly's last, predictably typical sloppy run. But, like I said before: It wasn't unfair...it just was. The scribe sitting next to me asked, "Are you OK?" I slobbered, "I just did the retirement run with my best friend." I told her about Carly's arthritis and that we had to stop after a ten year agility career, what a good girl she was and how much she would miss agility, and the scribe started to cry, too. I quickly hopped up to set some jumps and composed myself.

While I was timing that class, I daydreamed about Bunkey's next run, the last class of the trial which was Starters Jumpers. I had looked forward to that run more than any other that weekend because I could showcase her speed. No held contacts, no weaves to worry about. I fantasized about what her time would be -- 18 seconds, maybe 17? My head was huge with over-confidence. You would think it was the Steeplechase Finals.

At last, I walked our jumpers course. Wow. What fun the Starters class is -- so easy! I thought, "We're gonna nail this course. Maybe she'll do it in 15 seconds!" I saw virtually no opportunities for off courses. Our potential problems were a broken start-line stay or a dropped bar, but I really wasn't worried about either one.

At last, it's Bunkey's turn! Stay. I led out past the second jump (absolutely required because of a tight turn into a tunnel headed in the reverse direction). I looked at her, paused, breathed, heart pounding. ... OK. Perfect, jump, jump, front cross into tunnel. I called, "Bunkey, come!", while she was blasting through the tunnel. She needed to look for me while she was coming out of the tunnel to have a tight turn to the next jump, but ... reality set in. My little monster flew out of the tunnel at 90 MPH and took an off course jump about 50 feet away followed by a second off course jump before the "Bunkey come!" had even registered in her brain. Heh, heh, heh. Very funny. We regrouped and finished the run, taking the rest of the jumps and tunnels on course, but earned no Q.

My bubble was burst. We have a lot of work to do. Even a Dream Dog needs to have solid foundation training and experience. We're going to be working on weaves, improved handler focus, jump collection, etc., etc. Hopefully, Bunkey and I will have a long career together --learning, training, practicing, trialing, having a lot of fun, and occasionally qualifying. My goals are modest, and my hopes are that we will both stay healthy and honor the legacy of Carly's potential that was never realized.

On Sunday night, I came home to a huge banner hung on the side of our house, painted by my wonderful, agility- supporting husband, that said, "Congrats! Karen and Bunkey!" Jim knows.

So, this is how it feels to have a good dog. It feels great. I couldn't be happier as we face our future together. Thank you, Annette. And, thank you, Carly.