They're Back!

March Madness around here isn’t about basketball; it’s about the warblers—the endangered golden-cheeked warblers.  They arrive each year in mid-March and begin claiming their nesting territories on the “mountain” on the east side of our property.  I began walking the mountain-top trail and listening for them on Wednesday, March 16.  I called and called (using the Audubon app on my phone) but didn’t get an answer.  Then on Saturday the 19th, the dogs and I were back on the mountain, on the hunt.

And, they were back!  They not only answered, they came to my call and perched right above me.

It was a beautiful, bright almost-spring day, and those golden cheeks were striking against the deep blue sky.

I don’t know how many males came to my call.  I walked the ridgeline and called numerous times.  When a male appeared, he would flit from branch to branch, trying to locate his rival.  Failing to do so, he would move a few trees away and sing again.  I’m guessing several individuals came to my call based on the distance I traveled.  They perched on the branches of Ashe juniper and oak trees, singing their hearts out, and just as quickly flitting away.

The golden-cheeked warbler is very special to us.  It nests only in a small area of central Texas.  It prefers the north-facing hillsides of mature Ashe juniper, especially cedar brakes of junipers 10 to 20 feet tall, interspersed with oak, walnut, pecan and hackberry.  Its total breeding population has been estimated at only around 110,000 birds, so we feel very fortunate to have a stable population here at the farm. 

 

The warblers are said to be faithful to their breeding territory, returning year after year.  The males come in mid-March, and the females follow about five days later.  In the next week or so, as soon as the howling winds give us a break, I’ll be out to try for more photos, maybe of both males and females this time.  Then, in April I’ll be looking for their nests, deep open cups  constructed of bark strips from the Ashe juniper tree and often located in the forks of juniper branches.  What a blessing to be able to walk among them year-after year.  

Happy 25th!

Last week, on March 15,  John and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary.  The Ides of March, the 74th day in the Roman calendar corresponding to March 15, has had an ominous connotation ever since William Shakespeare put the warning to Julius Caesar, “Beware the Ides of March.” in his play of the same name.  However, the date has a different connotation for John and me.  It marks the date we legitimized our several-years-long union in a ceremony and memorable reception at the UT Alumni Center.  Here is what we looked like 25 years ago when we cut the cake and celebrated our marriage.  

Our wedding trip was a week-long visit to pre-Katrina New Orleans, filled with sight-seeing and more than a small sampling of the famous city’s food and beverages.  Most of the pictures of our wedding and honeymoon are stored away in dusty photo albums, but maybe in the coming weeks I’ll pull them out and add some images to this post.  In the meantime, here are a few images from the intervening years (in no particular order).

They mark some of our most cherished moments and memorable adventures, but not all of them by any means!

The last 25 years have been filled with joy and sorrow, ups and downs, and experiences we wouldn’t trade for anything.  Happy Anniversary, My Love, I would welcome another 25 years by your side.  

He Stopped at the Top!

In my previous post I reported on our trip to Junction for the Junction of the Pecos Sheep Dog Trial.  Last weekend we got a chance to compete again and hopefully better our performances.  It was a great weekend hosted by Brent Swindall on his family’s ranch outside of Gatesville.  It was only a forty-minute drive from our place, so we drove back and forth instead of taking the RV.  Our runs didn’t start until Saturday, but I had a great time on Friday scribing (keeping score) for the open class judge, Ron Enzeroth.  Judging herding trials is a trial in itself.  The judge usually watches and scores 40 or more runs in a day, each lasting (on Friday) 12.5 minutes.  That takes a lot of focus and concentration, not to mention a good sense of humor.  On Friday, after a short break for lunch, Ron and I returned to the judge’s position only to find that a possum had made its way up from the woods and into the shed ring.  Without a moment’s hesitation, Ron picked up a feed bucket and a stick and removed the varmint.  

The dogs’ and my performances last weekend were a mixed bag.  Cody didn’t do as well as he did in Junction.  There he placed 12th and 21st out of 43 dogs, with scores of 53 and 53 out of a possible 90 points.  This weekend he placed 16th and 28th out of 38 dogs entered with scores of 40 and 37.  We weren’t able to finish Saturday’s run by penning our sheep; they just weren’t going to go in, and we ran out of time.  However, we did pen three very uncooperative sheep Sunday on his second run.  I was proud of his patience and his responsiveness.  He deserved most of the credit for the pen.

Cody rounding the post

I was pleased with Bo’s progress from the Junction trial to this weekend’s.  A lot of his first run wasn’t very pretty.  He and I are still trying to get on the same page with our whistle commands.  (Bo had two previous owners, and sometimes the whistles I use resemble some he has responded to in the past.  When that happens, he’s not sure what he is supposed to do.  It will take some time for him to become completely familiar with the whistle commands I use so he knows what I’m telling him to do.)  

Bo fetching sheep to me

On the other hand, I was delighted with one aspect of Bo’s performance.  At the Junction trial, he refused to stop on command “at the top” behind the sheep, causing us to lose many points on our runs.  This weekend his response to my stop whistle on his outrun was perfect.  He stopped quickly, “lifted” his sheep quietly and brought them to me.  We also penned our sheep on his first run and he scored 45 out of a possible 90 points.  For only our second trial weekend, I’m pleased with that.

Bo driving his sheep

On his second run, Bo’s outrun and lift were good, and he got his sheep to me and around the post in fairly good order.  Up to that point we had only lost 5 of our possible 90 points.  His drive away from the post was going pretty well considering how uncooperative the sheep were.  However, when he got to the second set of panels I asked him for a small flank to the right and a stop.  The took the flank command, but either didn’t hear or understand the stop whistle and took the sheep completely off course.  With the three sheep heading for the creek hell-for-leather, I called our run and retired.  We’ll work on those commands and hopefully be better prepared for our next outing in three weeks.  

It was an enjoyable weekend, though.  Fellow handlers and mentors, John Lewis and Allen Mills (from the left above) watched from the sidelines, along with trial host Brent Swindall on the right. John saw most of our runs, and Gail and Steve also came on Saturday.  Sunday I had wonderful reunion with my good friend Jeanna Inks Black.  She and her husband, Bruce, came to watch Bo’s run and visit for a bit.  Jeanna and I met a number of years ago when we were both participating in the sport of canine agility.  Jeanna and her Labrador retriever, Sassi Jeaux, won a number of titles at the national level as well as in local (Austin area) trials.  She even wore her t-shirt from the 2012 N.A.D.A.C. Agility Championships. 

 

Sassi Jeaux and my Nickie have been gone for several years now, but Jeanna and I have many wonderful shared memories of our agility days.  She and Bruce live between our house and Hamilton on their Second Chance Ranch.  John and I look forward to good visits with them when the weather warms a bit.

Here are some pics from the trial.  The first two, of Bo's and my run, was shot by good friend and fellow handler Kathy Mazzola.  

Rounding the post

Cooling off after his run

Chuck Riley watches the action

Steve Rhidenour exhausts his sheep