The Rearview Mirror

As we roll into 2019 today, like always, I take a look back and remember all the ones in my family that are missing and aren't rolling ahead with us. We had our first Christmas and first New Year without Nikki and the moment my thoughts turn to her or her picture pops up on my computer, I begin to cry again. The memory of the last look she gave me is burned into my soul and Bob and I both miss the routine and her constant companionship. She took a piece of our hearts with her and I sometimes wake up late at night, thinking I heard her tag from her collar clinking on the heating vent in our bedroom.

Nikki - December, 2012

I had a reprieve from her memories during the Christmas holidays while my Grandsons were here and keeping me busy for 5 days. For some reason, thinking of her today, has made me vulnerable to a flood of memories of other lost loved ones in my family. Listening to this song doesn't help matters either.

I used to think life was so hard when I was a kid, but of course hindsight being what it is, it really wasn't. The older I get, the more my heart tries to drag me back down those old, dusty country roads and while teaching our Grandsons to drive our 4-wheelers, the memories of my own driving lessons by my Grandfather washed over me like a soft, warm cloak wrapping itself around me.
I was Pawpaw's favorite grandchild - not because I was the best-behaved (I wasn't), but because my father (his son), Jack Pippin was a drunk, philandering, physically and verbally abusive man who had no clue how to be a father. So Pawpaw stepped in and took myself (the oldest of the three), Karen & Clint into his large comforting arms and protected us from my father's demented psychosis. Pawpaw made it his mission to teach us everything a real father should teach his children. And he didn't just teach us the educational stuff - A,B,C's, math, reading & writing - he taught us the very practical stuff too, such as learning to drive a vehicle.
When I was 5, 6, & 7 years old, Pawpaw would put me in his lap and patiently teach me to drive both the old John Deere tractor and our old standard-shift Chevy pickup. The tractor was fun, but it became boring, going back & forth across the same field - never really going anywhere. But in the truck it was a different story; now we're talkin' - now I'm going places!
At that age, I had to spread my arms wide, wrap my little fingers around the huge steering wheel and pull myself up so I could see over the hood of the truck. My feet still couldn't reach the pedals and I wasn't strong enough to pull the shift into the proper gear, but Pawpaw operated the clutch, gas pedal and shifted for me. It was a thrill for me - such a little kid - to be allowed to control such a huge piece of machinery, but the best part of this was knowing that the adults recognized that I was growing up and there was a bit of implied trust with this new responsibility.

Kathy-6 years, Karen-5 years, & Clint-2 years (l to r - Circa 1967).

He only let me drive on the back dirt roads my first couple of years, where I'm sure he had to grab the wheel more than a few times to ensure we stayed out of the ditch. As my skills improved, he eventually let me drive on the pavement, with him still operating the pedals. I would become terrified and start to shake when we met an oncoming vehicle, but Pawpaw somehow knew of my terror and would put his right hand on my back, providing comfort and steadying me through his touch. He would place his left hand on his knee close to the wheel, ready to grab it if needed, until they were past us. Eventually, it was no big deal to meet someone, and I even learned the finger-wave /greeting - lift the right index finger to greet the oncoming vehicle. Back then, it was pretty common to see kids in their parent's / grandparent's laps while learning to drive, so there was never any concern about getting in trouble with the law.

David-4 years, Kathy-10 years, Karen-9 years, Jack Jr.-2 years old

Eventually, my legs grew long enough so that my feet could reach the pedals with the assistance of a few pillows at my back, instead of Pawpaw. I'm sure he had mixed feelings about my new abilities. He had no idea at the time just how much of his energy it was going to take to corral me after introducing me to a gas pedal. After many trials and errors and hearing, "do NOT pop the clutch, do NOT grind the gears and back off the gas when shifting" over & over, I was finally allowed to drive the truck in the hay field. My first work assignment was to pull the hay trailer around the fields as the hired hands, some of them only a few years older than me, loaded the hay bales. I was paid $1.00 per hour for driving.
Most of the time, I could keep the truck in first gear and idle along as the men walked along and tossed the hay on. Not only did I feel like I was the most important part of that operation, but I also had the best seat in the house so I could watch the tanned, handsome young mens' muscles glistening and rippling as they loaded hay in the hot sun.
Still, I was prone to mistakes and while not in any danger in a big hay field, the men were not amused when I would accidentally pop the clutch and the hay would go rolling off the trailer. I learned a lot of different cuss words back then as they would stomp back to the trailer and reload the hay.
It took awhile, but I was determined to learn to control the clutch better; part of my determination might have come from having to spend some time on that trailer, dragging & stacking too, and learning just how frustrating it is to have to reload and stack if the driver is too busy admiring the handsome loaders. Back then, they were the smaller, rectangular bales - and I started to appreciate why you don't want to have to pick them up twice. That's when I started earning $2.00 per hour.
After a few years in the hay fields, a few more inches of growth, and maybe too much admiring of the handsome hired hands, the pillows were removed and Pawpaw let me start driving the roads, always with his accompaniment. I sometimes wonder how Pawpaw didn't have a stroke while I was driving.
I was an adrenaline junky and I loved pressing the gas pedal to the floor and flying down the road with the wind blowing in the side window vent and the dust roiling up behind us. I graduated once again to the pavement and to this day, I distinctly recall Pawpaw's stern warning, "Girl, I'll pay the overweight ticket, but you'll pay the other'un". That was his way of warning me to slow down.

Kathy-13/14 years, Clint-9/10 years, Jack Jr.-4/5 years, & Karen-12/13 years - (l to r - Circa 1975)

Out of all the driving training, getting me slow down was the biggest challenge for him. Except when people loaded up into the bed of the truck and we headed to our camp on the river. Even at the age of 12, I knew it was extremely dangerous to hit a pot hole going too fast when my younger siblings were in the back. I loved riding in the back too. It's funny - today, I can't stand all the dust from the back country roads, but back then, we didn't have a care in the world about it. Sand & dust flying all around us - the gritty stuff in our eyes and teeth - because who doesn't smile when they're riding in the back of a truck? Sometimes, if he was going slow, Pawpaw would let us ride on the tail gate - he rarely dropped one of us kids, but if he did he would stop and wait for offender to catch up - the one who obviously hadn't been listening when they were told to hang on in the first place.
Pawpaw was loving, but at the same time he was tough - he would tell you once, sometimes even twice, but after that, you suffered the consequences of your pride.
To this day, I can still drive any vehicle with a stick shift and a tractor.

April, 2014- plowing the field, preparing for clover planting.

I still have the problem of driving too fast, but I pay my dues when I do - or at least when I get caught. We had the best Christmas, as Bob and I taught our two grandsons how to drive our 4-wheelers. The labels on the bikes state, "no operators under the age of 16". We scoffed at that. As our Grandsons begged & pleaded to be allowed to push the bike from low to high gear for more speed, and wanted more control of the throttle so we could go airborne over the whoop-di-dooes, I laughed to myself as I imagined Pawpaw had probably experienced all the same thoughts now spinning in my head; "not an ice-cube's chance in hell, kid" & "I have no desire to die today".
I can't wait until my Grandsons visit again, so I can continue to teach and play with them. My son told me they're still talking about all the fun they had with Gramma and Grandpa. I hope they cherish these memories we are making long into their own adulthood, as I cherish my memories of my own Grandparents today.

How Many Tears

"I think the hardest part of losing a dog you love isn't having to say goodbye...it's the way your entire world changes without them and the emptiness that's left in your heart when they go".

Nikki Freeze - March, 2006 - October 12, 2018

"Because even a moment of your love is worth years of pain later."

Friday, October 12th, my heart shattered to pieces as Bob and I watched over Nikki, my beautiful German Shepherd, as she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I thought that was going to be the hardest part, but I was very naive'. The act of coming home held more daggers for our hearts as we drove down Reed Road. I can't remember ever having lost a dog that has ever caused me this much pain.
The parable, "The Little Orange Boy - Choosing Tears", told us we would always suffer their loss, but we seem to forget that pain - until we lose another pet.
We adopted Nikki in September, 2006 from Diana's Grove, just after moving to Licking, MO. According to the best information they had, she had been born in March, 2006 and had pretty much been tied to a tree outside for the first 6 months of her life - she weighed less than 40 lbs - severely underweight for her age and breed. When we first met her, we took her for a walk and it was the first time she had been on a leash. She couldn't get far enough away from us as she strained and pulled against it. We brought her home that day and, after taking her for another walk, we took her in the house and she found the farthest corner in the back of the house and curled up and stayed there.

Nikki - her first day home. 6 months old

Nikki with her Dad, first day home. 6 months old

Bob and I settled in to watch tv and waited for her to make the first move. After 2 hours, I felt her cold nose nudge my elbow. From there on, she was my girl. It took her another 2 months to become similarly comfortable with Bob. It was evident she had been severely abused by a man, so Bob had to work extra hard to earn her trust. And work, he did. She was so skittish, it took us 2 months to introduce her to a brush, to keep her beautiful white coat groomed. She did all the typical puppy stuff during house-breaking and being the wild girl she was, her herding instincts were very strong. One of my favorite memories from those days - I worked from home and I would walk and talk while on a conference call. She would herd me back to my desk as I walked and I would have to mute myself as I laughed at my funny little girl nudging and pushing me back into my chair. Her favorite toy - that she never shredded - was "Patch". We set a crate up in my office and left the door open -she voluntarily walked right in and napped next to me during the day - it became her 'safe' place.

Nikki - 8 months with her favorite toy, "Patch".

Nikki - 8 months - she loved her crate....and Patch.

Nikki - 8 months - oh those ears!

Once we had her on a good quality dog food, she became more energetic, bigger and stronger and we walked for miles - across the fields, up and down the dirt roads, even all the streets in the City of Licking. There isn't a field or road around this area that we haven't walked. I took her to a few training classes as she gained more confidence and she was a quick learner. She learned to stay, wait, down, sit, stand, heel and eventually, we taught her to sing and play hide-and-seek.

Nikki - 10 months - training at her CGC class. She was more interested in making friends than she was in learning to sit.

If there was ever a dog that loved fall & winter, it was Nikki. We taught her to play and man, could that dog fly when catching a ball.  We loved her and she fiercely loved us for over 12 years. But now she's gone and I want to know, I really want to know how many tears does it take to stop this aching pain that is tearing our hearts apart when we recall our memories of Nikki?

Nikki - ~7 months - strong, young and energetic.

Nikki - 8 months

After getting her food adjusted, she started to grow - a lot.

Nikki - 9 months & challenging me for the Queen position. She finally settled for "Princess".

How many tears will it take to wash away the pain I feel when I look at her now-empty bed still lying beside my bed when I go to sleep at night?

Nikki - 15 months We moved into our newly-built home in Feb., 2007 and after sniffing out all the rooms, she decided she still liked our bed the best.

How many tears will it take to wash away the ache and emptiness I feel when I see the empty spots where she used to lay beside me in my office  as I worked each day?

Nikki - 15 months

Please, someone tell me, how many tears will it take to wash away the pain, deep in my heart when I look around our living room and she's not there?

Nikki - 17 months. Hanging out with Mom & Dad - you could always tell when you got the 'look' when someone was hungry.

How many tears will it take to wash away the pain I feel when I step into our yard where she used to play and play, so strong and energetic?

Nikki - 28 months - She was an explorer and always, always energetic, so we had to exercise her a lot.

How many tears do I have to shed before the pain subsides when we pop some popcorn - her favorite food - and we still feel her there, staring down her Dad, begging for another bite?

Nikki - 5 years, 6 months - By the age of 5 1/2, she had bulked up and weighed in around 90 lbs. It was probably due to all the popcorn and treats. Popcorn was her favorite treat.

 And maybe some bacon too.

Nikki & Mom - 5 years, 6 months

 Thanks to her Dad's persistence, she would lay on the floor near (not next to) him and act goofy.

Nikki - 5 years 9 months

How many tears will I need to shed before I can look down that staircase without remembering our "exercise game" and stop this excruciating pain, stabbing at my heart?

Nikki - 7 years, 5 months - Our own doggie stair master - to help her lose some weight (she was up to 95 lbs.), we tossed her favorite toys downstairs. Sometimes, I had to go get it when she got tired. :)

How many tears will I need shed so that I no longer feel this pain from missing my constant companion, my shadow beside me - my walking buddy?  We must have walked down this driveway a million times together.

Nikki - 7 years & 9 months. Bob used to tell me, my ponytail was swinging in time with Nikki's tail.

How many tears will it take to wash away the pain when I look for you in this house? You were everywhere and we miss you terribly.

Nikki - 8 years, 6 months

You could buy all the expensive toys in the store, but her favorite was one of Dad's old socks, with knots tied in it.

Nikki - 8 years, 7 month

 She had a terrific nose - and loved to walk with me in the woods in the fall.

Nikki - 8 years, 7 months - She loved to walk with me and explore all the scents left in the forest. I could never let her off-leash though, because her nose would get her in trouble, and her recall was terrible.

How many tears will it take to erase the pain I feel in my heart when I come home and no longer see your beautiful face in the window eagerly waiting for me, demanding that I take you for a walk to make up for my absence?

Nikki - 9 years - she could hear anyone entering our driveway from 300 yards away.

One of our neighbors once told us he came knocking while we were out.  He told us he had to leave, because he was afraid "that big-ass white dog was going to come through the window and attack him". Nikki believed in the Power of Barking.
How many tears will it take to mend my heart next Spring when my martins return and you're not here to watch over them with me as we relax on the porch?

Nikki - 10 years, 1 month - No matter where I was, she insisted on being there with me. Even if it meant sitting on the porch in 90 degree weather, she would lay there and enjoy all the different smells that wafted through the porch screens.

I really, really want to know how we're supposed to get over the loss of our girl who was a big part of our lives for over 12 years. During the summers, she hogged the vents and now I can't bear to remove her blankets or rugs where she lay.

Nikki - July 7, 2018 - she started sleeping a lot more and we had to lay down more rugs on the hardwood and tile floors. If she slipped she was unable to get herself back up, unless we helped her.

How many tears will it take before I no longer break down every time I walk past one of your favorite spots in the house for keeping track of your humans?

Nikki - October 2, 2018 - one of her favorite places to lay while I was in the kitchen. It was the best spot in the house for being able to keep track of her humans.

Nikki - October 2, 2018 - along with her Mom & Dad, she no longer had any patience for the heat this summer and demanded to go back indoors after confirming the 90 deg. temps were really intolerable.

The worst part about waking up every morning is not seeing your huge paws and nose as you patiently waited for me to rise and rather impatiently waited for me to put on my shoes, dancing around & around me as I grabbed your leash. How many tears must I shed before this pain, deep in my heart finally goes away?

Nikki - October 4, 2018 - she always waited by the bedroom door for me in the mornings.

They say time heals all wounds, but as I'm living it, I can tell you, it is a slow, agonizing process. She was everywhere in this house. She was everywhere on this property, Reed Road and even in Licking. We did our best to give her an adventurous, fun, stimulating life. But for me, it all ended too soon.

You can remedy & medicate many ailments, but age is the one for which you can do nothing about.
There aren't enough tears that we can shed that will help us right now and I can hear every second on the clock as it slowly ticks by without her.

We miss our girl and love her so much.  RIP, Princess Nikki Freeze - you created so many memories here and we will be missing you forever.  But rest easy, knowing you are in our hearts always - we love you.

The Grand Finale to a Great Purple Martin Season

After an initial rough start to the 2018 season due to some unanticipated moves by the GHO, I was able to finish the year with a total of 76 pair and we fledged 360 young.

Kicking off this season with a warmer-than-usual Spring, many of my adult pairs were able to get started with nest-building and egg-laying in parallel during the same 2 weeks. This resulted in many, many nests fledging simultaneously from July 3rd through July 14th, with hundreds of martins returning in the evening, filling the arms on the gourd racks.

The new fledging tree behind my house held dozens of newly-fledged martins. As I watched them every day, I worried that the hawks would be drawn to such easy prey, but it never became a problem The tippy-top of this tree is easily 100 feet tall and the new fledges were able to drop and gain speed quickly. They were safer up there than they were on the top perch rods on my gourd racks.

The young fledges demanded food from whomever came flying in, whether it was one of their brothers & sisters or not.

After watching over the young fledges roosting on the arms for several nights and wondering if I was making a mistake by allowing them to roost there, it became apparent the owl had either tried & failed to broach the nets beneath, or wasn't quite sure she could keep from getting tangled in the ropes. Either way, the netting was the final touch to my cages this year that allowed for a nice balance of allowing the martins to escape during a hawk attack, but also kept the owl out (see this post from June, that was the reason I had to install the netting: http://kathyfreeze.blogspot.com/2018/06/nest-checks-new-hatchlings-and-nets.html)

This was the first year in my 12 years of hosting purple martins that I've had this many fledges returning every night.  It was also the first year, the new fledges have been able to safely roost all night on the gourd arms of my racks - protected from raccoons, snakes, and owls.

This was also the first year in the last 5 years of dealing with the GHO where I've felt I have created the best balance between providing protection for the martins and coexisting with both a GHO and a Barred owl.

Instead of the usual fretting, worrying and anxiety, this year was filled with the sheer joy of seeing so many healthy young'uns on the rails and in the surrounding trees.

I'm glad I never gave up the fight and surrendered, because now, I have a lot of experience with what does and does not work when you have to contend with owls.