The
May 15, 2013
Countryy Editor Just good reading
Check-In
Lifesaving Lemonade
~ Page 3
~ Page 3
Chicken
Volume 1 Number 5
North Keep your cool: Don’t get stuck on the road this summer ~ Page 7
The Landlord’s Dog by Jan P. Case ‘Landlord says the dog has got to go.’ That’s a bit of a stretch, since I am the landlord, but that was what I told people while trying to relocate a male pit bull puppy who, at 10 months of age, was already exceeding 75 pounds. Like most moms, I got into this situation due to my kid. Last May my 17 year old daughter announced that her friend had given her a puppy. It was a pit bull, but good news — he was already named! Seriously, that was her selling point. I do not see a future in marketing for Abigail. But how could I say no? After all, he was already named! Onyx arrived at the end of May. He was a cutie: big ears, big eyes, and the cutest smile. Spring turned into summer and Onyx took his rightful position in our home and in our hearts. He had so much love, so much energy. He loved to hike, run and chase bears (a story in itself for another time.) He also loved to chase Annie the Jack Russell; Annie would chase the tennis ball and Onyx would chase her. Then there was the chewing — he would chew anything he could, his palate included dining room chairs, scissors, and sadly my eyeglasses. But the chewing was always forgiven because he was the best hugger. Onyx knew enough to rest his head against you when you went in for the squeeze.
Everyone enjoyed plenty of outdoor time and hugs well into the fall. But time stands still for no one and by the time fall turned into winter, the cute puppy had turned into a still cute, but exceeding 75 pound, puppy. I took him for a lot of walks in the village, but he never would get to run around like he enjoyed in the summer, it broke my heart to see him so bored. Beyond his boredom, I began to notice another issue with owning a pit bull. While walking Onyx, I noticed other pedestrians scurrying to the other side of the street when we met. I noticed a change in my neighbor’s demeanor around Onyx and me; he would wave but would no longer stop and chat. The final clue that something was amiss was the holidays. My brother made his annual trek home to the farm, but never stopped at my home in the village. I asked my mom what was up with that and she told me he was afraid of Onyx. “He’s just too big,” she explained. “And you know, he is a pit bull.” Poor Onyx, burdened with the stigma of being a pit bull. His size and apparent scare factor led to the decision to try to find Onyx a new home as soon as possible. I had no luck at all. At the same time I contacted our local no-kill shelter, there was a huge pit bull rescue in a neighboring village. I called rescue groups within a 75 mile radius. Most responses
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Torpy’s Pond
by Jamie Aloi Growing up my weekends consisted of traveling about an hour away from home to an old farm where about six different families, with up to four generations, went to get away from the daily grind. This place is an outdoor club located on a piece of land that was once a farm with a large pond, open field, and forests full of trails. Each family owned either a trailer or rented out a room in the old farm house or redone chicken coop. We, as kids, would all play in the open field during the day and at night everyone would cram into the old barn that had been converted into a club house to hang out, eat and mainly play cards — pitch was the game of choice. During the day we would go out and explore the land. There were about five different trails we could choose to take on any one day, There were two along the pond (that depending on the time of year would connect all the way around the pond), one along the creek that was formed from the water exiting the pond, one leading away perpendicular to the pond and one leading away from the open field. We would almost every weekend
Onyx and Abbie at their home last February. Photos by Jan P. Case were the same: we are maxed out, we can put you on a waiting list, and do you know how hard it is to find a new home for a pit bull? Things were not looking good for Onyx. I work for a weekly agriculture paper. Onyx needed room to run. Who has that? Farmers. So I placed an ad in Country Folks: ‘Free dog, 10 mos. old, 75 plus or minus lbs.
explore at least one of these trails, usually the one next to the creek where we would also play, making dams or bridges and catching crayfish. The trail leading away from the pond was the longest trail we had that if you took it long enough you would come upon a corn field. Sometimes we would go though the cornfield and eventually swing around and meet up with the trail that connected to the open field. Along that trail there was a path that veered off that would lead us to an old abandoned stone foundation of what was once a sugar mill. There was also a trail that the men of the camp created that connected the two trails about halfway inbetween, but this one also depended on the height of the water because it crossed the creek and there was no bridge. Exploring these trails never got old as there was always something new; new growth, new trees down or running into animals scurrying away from the rowdy kids. This was our childhood home away from home that we will always have and let the future generations of our family
See Onyx page 3
enjoy. Having this experience growing up has helped create who I am today. Most children these days don’t get to experience living in the outdoors with no access to internet or television. We explored and discovered things that wouldn’t happen if we stayed inside. There are things I learned from this place that I never would have been able to learn from a classroom or the internet. This sparked my love for the outside and helped shape for my future career of wanting to work outside and not at a desk in some building. I believe that every child should get to live this way.