Tyler heads Tequila northeast after they go over the rise as they leave from the ranch.
Northeast will take him to the town of Silver Lake. With heat waves simmering off of the trail, it feels like they are riding on top of a stove. He will not travel too far before he makes camp. After what he just experienced, he is not in the best of moods.
Riding for a spell, estimating they are close to five miles from the ranch this should be enough for a safe distance.
Spotting a cluster of trees, he moves Tequila slowly over to where they stand. Stretching from the saddle, Tyler notices there have been more than a few campsites made here in the past. Seeing fresh water running in a nearby stream this is a perfect place to stop for the night. There is enough of a grazing area for Tequila and a good field of vision all the way around if any one should come by. “This is the place for the night girl. I know it’s very early for us to make camp but I’m bushed and you can probably use the rest too.” Tequila whinnies.
Wearily he steps down, loosens the saddle cinch, and removes Tequila’s saddle and blanket. He takes off her bridle and puts on a regular halter. Next he clips a twenty foot lead rope to her halter and walks her to the stream to drink. When she finishes he moves her to the center of a good grazing spot and stakes her to the ground. Carefully Tyler lifts her hooves looking for stones and cleans them with a hoof pick. Taking a brush from his saddle bag, he begins giving her a good grooming which she loves. Tequila turns her head and gives him a big long sigh. “Spoiled horse.”
After the brushing, he moves over to a tall wide tree trunk, sitting next to it gives him some good shade. Even though feeling hungry he needs to pause and think about what he just saw and how it might relate to another incident he is aware of. Sensing he is feeling more than sorrow right now. He is down right angry about what he had to do back there. Something is definitely wrong around these parts and the local sheriff should be informed.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Chapter One Smoke Ahead
Tyler and his paint mare, a Missouri Fox Trotter, have been on the trail for two weeks. Nearly out of supplies, he hopes to reach the next town by the end of the following day. Taking off his hat and wiping his forehead and neck with his blue bandanna, he stretches up in his stirrups to see if there is some shade and water for himself and his horse to take a break. Reaching over his saddle horn he gently rubs Tequila’s sweaty neck. “I know its hot girl; I’m trying to find us some shade. One good thing about this heat, there’s no flies out.”
The noon time sun overhead is roasting everything on the surface. It must be over a hundred Tyler thinks to himself. The sky looks a royal blue without a cloud in it, what we need right now is a lot of rain. Everything is so dry that grazing is starting to turn brown, not good for horses or cattle.
Looking east he notices traces of smoke coming up just over the next rise. He is close enough to scent the smell of smoke. Smoke can mean a number of things. Ranchers burning brush which is not too smart in these dry conditions or something drastically wrong ahead of him. Reaching for his Colt, checking to make sure that all six of the cylinders are loaded and then reaching to check and make sure his Winchester has a round in the chamber he moves on.
Heading Tequila in that direction hoping it is only a rancher burning some brush and they can offer him and Tequila some water. Maybe his wife could part with some leftovers. Hardtack is getting tiresome.
Nearing the top of the rise he looks down upon the ranch and sees the house and barn smoldering. Pulling up on Tequila’s reins, he pauses to survey the situation in front of him. There are no horses in the corrals, or cattle he can see. From where he sits he can’t make out if anyone is around.
Slowly, walking Tequila downhill, he draws his Winchester from its scabbard and lays it across his saddle in front of him. Tyler feels tension building in Tequila’s muscles. She is bothered by the smell of smoke and death.
Approaching the smoldering buildings he sees where the bodies are lying on the ground. He dismounts and ties his horse to a rail post. Holding his rifle in his right hand he moves around looking for anyone who might be lingering.
The noon time sun overhead is roasting everything on the surface. It must be over a hundred Tyler thinks to himself. The sky looks a royal blue without a cloud in it, what we need right now is a lot of rain. Everything is so dry that grazing is starting to turn brown, not good for horses or cattle.
Looking east he notices traces of smoke coming up just over the next rise. He is close enough to scent the smell of smoke. Smoke can mean a number of things. Ranchers burning brush which is not too smart in these dry conditions or something drastically wrong ahead of him. Reaching for his Colt, checking to make sure that all six of the cylinders are loaded and then reaching to check and make sure his Winchester has a round in the chamber he moves on.
Heading Tequila in that direction hoping it is only a rancher burning some brush and they can offer him and Tequila some water. Maybe his wife could part with some leftovers. Hardtack is getting tiresome.
Nearing the top of the rise he looks down upon the ranch and sees the house and barn smoldering. Pulling up on Tequila’s reins, he pauses to survey the situation in front of him. There are no horses in the corrals, or cattle he can see. From where he sits he can’t make out if anyone is around.
Slowly, walking Tequila downhill, he draws his Winchester from its scabbard and lays it across his saddle in front of him. Tyler feels tension building in Tequila’s muscles. She is bothered by the smell of smoke and death.
Approaching the smoldering buildings he sees where the bodies are lying on the ground. He dismounts and ties his horse to a rail post. Holding his rifle in his right hand he moves around looking for anyone who might be lingering.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Something different for you to read
Owning Gregory gave me the idea of writing about my visions of the old west. My second novel "A Cowboy's Vengeance" was released last month. It is available in hardcover, softcover and e-book by going to http://www.joesmiga3.com/ or to Barnes and Noble, Amazon or your independent book store.
Next week I will begin posting excerpts from the book.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Chapter Eighteen Epilogue
This book is being published with a two fold purpose. One I want everyone to know the quality relationship I had with my dog. Second, I want to reach dog owners to educate them about what she went through and what she died from. Dog owners I cannot reach through my local cable TV program.
Last but not least, I needed a way to educate vets. I know Tova’s vet is talking up what he learned from this experience when he goes to conferences. I personally called every small animal college in the country telling them about it and asking them to make sure their students are aware of this. I offered to send them the report. Everyone I spoke to requested it. Interesting enough only three of them told me they were aware of Cryptococcosis. Some said it’s probably in their database but no one seems to be identifying with it. I realize that no one can learn everything but I want this book to be a wake-up call for vets and for dog owners.
Last but not least, I needed a way to educate vets. I know Tova’s vet is talking up what he learned from this experience when he goes to conferences. I personally called every small animal college in the country telling them about it and asking them to make sure their students are aware of this. I offered to send them the report. Everyone I spoke to requested it. Interesting enough only three of them told me they were aware of Cryptococcosis. Some said it’s probably in their database but no one seems to be identifying with it. I realize that no one can learn everything but I want this book to be a wake-up call for vets and for dog owners.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Chapter Seventeen After the Burial
I am numb. It is five in the evening, Linda is preparing dinner and I’m not even hungry.
My mind is still trying to comprehend she is gone. Most of the evening, I have tears coming down my checks. Linda tries to console me. When we put Copper down twelve years ago, I cried carrying her from the vet’s office and throughout the time we buried her. She was a great dog, but she was really Jake’s dog and I didn’t have the same emotional attachment to her as I had with Tova.
Tova was my dog.
Two days later, her vet called me. “Joe, I want you to Google something. He spells it for me. After you do, call me back so we can talk.”
I log onto Google search and type in, “Cryptococcosis.”
My first reaction is, “Oh My God.”
In short form, Cryptococcosis is a fungal disease that affects the respiratory tract, eyes, skin and the central nervous systems of dogs. The fungus exists in the environment and in tissues in a yeast form. The fungus is found in soil and fowl droppings. Transmission is by inhalation of the spores or the contamination of open wounds. The infection first shows up as lesions on the lungs, facial regions, legs and cerebral cavities. It rapidly spreads to their central nervous system and eyes. Organs may be involved and if the brain is involved the dog will show signs of circling, behavior changes, accompanied by sneezing and coughing, and in some cases blindness. Tova showed some of these signs.
After sitting almost motionless in front of my monitor for a few minutes, I printed out what the Google report stated about fungal diseases. As painful as this was to digest, it made logical sense to me. Being a hunting dog, Tova frequently had her nose to the ground.
I called the vet. His office said he would call as soon as he was through with a patient.
Ten minutes later, he calls. “What did you find?”
“It’s hard to believe what I just read.”
“Joe, I’m sorry, I’ve never seen or heard of this before and neither has my associate or the internal medicine vet Tova saw. We are all shocked. I’ve been talking to all of my fellow vets and they’re never heard of anything like this. I’ve searched the internet since we put her down and just by accident I found this. I really believe this is what she picked up. She lasted fifteen months after contracting it because she was so healthy.”
He ends the conversation as sympathetically as he can. I still can’t believe a beautiful healthy dog died from some damn fungus from bird droppings.
My next concern is to call my vet in California who takes care of my horses on my daughter’s property. I’ve seen bird droppings dried on the corral rails before and I want to know if we could lose a horse.
When he gets the message he returns my call and says, he’s never heard of a case in California.
My mind is still trying to comprehend she is gone. Most of the evening, I have tears coming down my checks. Linda tries to console me. When we put Copper down twelve years ago, I cried carrying her from the vet’s office and throughout the time we buried her. She was a great dog, but she was really Jake’s dog and I didn’t have the same emotional attachment to her as I had with Tova.
Tova was my dog.
Two days later, her vet called me. “Joe, I want you to Google something. He spells it for me. After you do, call me back so we can talk.”
I log onto Google search and type in, “Cryptococcosis.”
My first reaction is, “Oh My God.”
In short form, Cryptococcosis is a fungal disease that affects the respiratory tract, eyes, skin and the central nervous systems of dogs. The fungus exists in the environment and in tissues in a yeast form. The fungus is found in soil and fowl droppings. Transmission is by inhalation of the spores or the contamination of open wounds. The infection first shows up as lesions on the lungs, facial regions, legs and cerebral cavities. It rapidly spreads to their central nervous system and eyes. Organs may be involved and if the brain is involved the dog will show signs of circling, behavior changes, accompanied by sneezing and coughing, and in some cases blindness. Tova showed some of these signs.
After sitting almost motionless in front of my monitor for a few minutes, I printed out what the Google report stated about fungal diseases. As painful as this was to digest, it made logical sense to me. Being a hunting dog, Tova frequently had her nose to the ground.
I called the vet. His office said he would call as soon as he was through with a patient.
Ten minutes later, he calls. “What did you find?”
“It’s hard to believe what I just read.”
“Joe, I’m sorry, I’ve never seen or heard of this before and neither has my associate or the internal medicine vet Tova saw. We are all shocked. I’ve been talking to all of my fellow vets and they’re never heard of anything like this. I’ve searched the internet since we put her down and just by accident I found this. I really believe this is what she picked up. She lasted fifteen months after contracting it because she was so healthy.”
He ends the conversation as sympathetically as he can. I still can’t believe a beautiful healthy dog died from some damn fungus from bird droppings.
My next concern is to call my vet in California who takes care of my horses on my daughter’s property. I’ve seen bird droppings dried on the corral rails before and I want to know if we could lose a horse.
When he gets the message he returns my call and says, he’s never heard of a case in California.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Tova A Very Special Dog entry submitted for an award
Yesterday, I filled out the registrartion and sent four copies of the soft cover book along with it to the 23rd annual Benjamin Franklin Awards program of the Independent Book Publishing Association. The book is being entered under the animals and pets category. There are over fifty categories. Each category will have a gold and two silver awards. Wish me luck, Joe.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Chapter Sixteen Problems
I ask, “What is happening to her? She can run, play and act normal most of the time but she is becoming disoriented when she lies still. It is like she is fearful.”
The reply is, “They believe something is destroying her immune system but they don’t know what.”
Friday night and Saturday night are terrible. She is up every four hours and I’m afraid to give her anymore pain medicine than I am already. I have been sleeping on the couch near her for a week now. My presence doesn’t seem to matter.
During the weekend I deliberately watch her walk up and down the stairs and noticed she is hitting the wall. At dinner time I tried to give her a scrap off of my plate to give her some enjoyment. She took it and acted like she didn’t have it and was looking for it.
I lifted her upper lip and found the piece of meat stuck between her lip on her left side and her upper gum. I could see she had no feeling on the upper left side of her mouth. She could not feel it was there in her mouth. Oh God, she is falling apart and we don’t know what to do for her. I feel so helpless.
After watching her throughout the weekend I decided to put her down. She is developing more and more problems and only getting worse. I love her too much to see her suffer like this.
On Monday morning, we walk around Dorr’s pond on our regular routine. The way she walks around the pond you would never know she is not feeling well. When the vet’s office opens at eight I make an appointment to put her down at 3:00.
We will have our regular walk around the pond once more before the appointment. The rest of the day is very trying for me. It is an internal conflict between my wanting her to survive and knowing she really isn’t going to get better.
The reply is, “They believe something is destroying her immune system but they don’t know what.”
Friday night and Saturday night are terrible. She is up every four hours and I’m afraid to give her anymore pain medicine than I am already. I have been sleeping on the couch near her for a week now. My presence doesn’t seem to matter.
During the weekend I deliberately watch her walk up and down the stairs and noticed she is hitting the wall. At dinner time I tried to give her a scrap off of my plate to give her some enjoyment. She took it and acted like she didn’t have it and was looking for it.
I lifted her upper lip and found the piece of meat stuck between her lip on her left side and her upper gum. I could see she had no feeling on the upper left side of her mouth. She could not feel it was there in her mouth. Oh God, she is falling apart and we don’t know what to do for her. I feel so helpless.
After watching her throughout the weekend I decided to put her down. She is developing more and more problems and only getting worse. I love her too much to see her suffer like this.
On Monday morning, we walk around Dorr’s pond on our regular routine. The way she walks around the pond you would never know she is not feeling well. When the vet’s office opens at eight I make an appointment to put her down at 3:00.
We will have our regular walk around the pond once more before the appointment. The rest of the day is very trying for me. It is an internal conflict between my wanting her to survive and knowing she really isn’t going to get better.
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