Dog Owners - Take a Class

Seriously, most other dog owners in this city piss me off. My dog is extremely well trained. He follows commands and heels without my having to remind him. He really doesn't even need a leash. But, for one thing, it's a LAW that dogs in parks (unless it's a specially designated dog-park) MUST be on leashes. Second, I own a boxer. He's almost 80 pounds of muscular, 5-year-old dog. Pretty big dog. Ergo, with all the prissy little shitzu's, pugs, and poms running around everywhere in bite-size form, I put my dog on a leash. Which brings me to my point: I HATE it when I see other dog owners in a large, very public park allowing their over-exuberant dogs to have the run of the park with no reprimand. One of these out of control canines made a rush for me and my well-behaved puppy. And here's where it gets complicated. Cassius is a great dog - with humans and other dogs, but he's pretty over-zealous and could be considered aggressive (but not in a mean, attack-dog type of way). But seriously, when a lab, blue heeler, sheep dog or other similarly sized animal comes charging at the two of us when trying to enjoy a nice afternoon in the park (with Cassius securely on his leash), who's fault is it going to be when Cassius misinterprets the approaching dog's advances as dangerous and a fight ensues? Mine, of course, since I have the bigger dog - even though mine is on a SHORT leash -WHERE HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE!! So anyway, we were in a local park the other evening on a run, which got interrupted not once, but TWICE to mongrels whose owners didn't have the decency to follow the rules or have respect for others by having their dogs on leashes. If you want space for your dog to run freely, get a bigger back yard, douche. Geez.

Goat Cheese, Goat Girl

I wrote this piece for our 'Eat Your Words' brunch in my master's class this summer. We were to bring in a food that possessed a story about us.

I could easily have written an anecdote about a family holiday tradition or a dish that stirs up nostalgic feelings of my grandparents, but I didn't think any of those stories would have helped you understand who I am. So I offer a simple serving of cheese and crackers. Yes, both are easily purchased at your local Hyvee (where I hear there's a friendly smile in every aisle, but not between 3-6 am or on Sundays). But it is not the style of the dish nor its simplicity that are unique. The cheese I offer is that of the dairy goat, not cow. How many of you are now looking for a napkin to spit that in? Or turning your nose up, even after you've had a couple bites and enjoyed it? Too late. I already know you like it. Do you know these facts about dairy?
-Humans are the only species who voluntarily drink the milk of other species on a regular basis.
-Worldwide, dairy goats' milk is drank more than any other animal - even cows.
-Goats' milk has a lower fat content and higher protein content than cow's milk, which means that those of you allergic to cow's milk are able to consume goat's milk.
-You can make all of the same products out of goat's milk as cow's milk.
-Goats' milk is whiter than cows' milk.

So what? You ask. What does that have to do with you? Well, here's the deal - my family has raised dairy goats since I was 10 years old. I joined 4-H (because I grew up in a small town in Missouri, that's just what we did).

I could have chosen something normal like cows, horses, pigs, or even dogs to show. But not me. I had to do something different. I always have to be the one to stand out. So what did I choose? Dairy goats.

How does one get into the business of showing and raising dairy goats to begin with? you ask.

I have no idea how it’s usually done because I WON my first goat – in an essay contest through the local 4-H extension program.

I didn’t find out until years later that I was the only one entered in that particular contest…

I can’t imagine why…

I mean, really – I was SURE when I entered that I’d have NO chance to win because EVERY 4-Her in Randolph County would be scrambling to get MY goat…wouldn’t you?

I had no idea what kind of journey I would be taken on when I wrote that fateful essay. Who knew what kind of effect that one paper would have on the rest of my life. There were good and bad times at shows, funny and sad times with the animals, and lots of responsibility and hard work and plenty of new experiences and things to learn along the way.

I won a 4 month old kid - that's what they call a young goat - through the essay contest. In June of 1993, I took Snowball, an adorable BLACK and WHITE kid home with me. Why I would name a black and white animal Snowball, I have no clue, but come on, I was 10.

My first year of showing was pretty pitiful. Snowball was small, and not a very nice looking goat, so I usually stood at the end of the line in shows. But I kept going.

In August of that year, my mom and I took Snowball to the Missouri State Fair. Again, I stood at the end of the line in most of the classes. It was time to try something new. Mom decided that I should get another goat for my birthday. Some of the other exhibitors there had animals for sale, so we started asking around about other kids that were available. And we found Eider.

Eider was a 5 month old tan and brown kid and very obnoxious. I had to have her. She was the most hyper kid in the pens. Jumping, running, always having to have attention – we’d get along just fine. So we took her home.

When we got home, we realized we had forgotten one minor detail…my dad came outside to help us unload the truck and saw that somehow over the weekend, our one goat we took to the fair had somehow become two... But we convinced dad that I desperately needed that second animal, so he let me keep her.

About a month later, I went out to the pen to feed my pets. Before I went, my parents warned me not to go into the pen or open the gate because Eider was still a little nervous at our place and getting used to her surroundings. But I knew my pets – they weren’t going anywhere. I walked out with the bucket of grain in my hand, opened the gate, and there went Eider, sprinting into the deep, dark forest surrounding our house.

We called in all the experts – my 4-H leader, my family, our neighbors, even Eider’s previous owner came in to be part of the Operation Eider Search party. About 3 days later, after combing the woods around my house and yelling “EI-DERRR” for hours (because we all know goats come when they’re called, right?) the poor, starving little imp came trotting up to the fence to get some grain. Luckily, I was outside and able to catch her. She was home safe and sound – just before deer season started, I may add.

We kept our herd to just two does for another year, but then in the fall of 1994, it was time to think about expanding our herd. After October, both of my girls were expecting kids, due to come in about February or early March. My first kidding season was interesting. Snowball had kids first.

If anyone has witnessed a live birth of any kind, it’s a shock to see your first one. Especially for an 11 year old. My mom was amazed and so excited – I was freaked out and grossed out. I tried to just let her take care of it, but she was adamant about my taking care of my animals. As I walked away, drying off the first kid, thinking that was it, I heard, “Gretchen, get back over here, there’s another kid!” All I could think was YUCK.

But after it was all over, there were two adorable little kids on wobbly legs, looking so darn cute I couldn’t stand it. I was hooked for life.

I didn’t realize that because of those cute little kids I would have to get up at 5:30 with my mom every morning to milk and bottle feed. What I wouldn’t give to go back to two does to milk – 14 years later, my mom is up to almost 10 does to milk and close to 20 kids to bottle feed twice a day!

As I got older, the showing part got a lot better. I started winning classes here and there, improving my showmanship ability and improving our herd quality over the years. As I got into high school, I was getting to be known in my county and surrounding counties at the fairs for my goats. I was winning all the shows and taking all the trophies. We decided it was time to go to the National show.

In July of 2000, we went to Springfield, Illinois, for a week to show among the best of the best around the country. We had a decent sized herd – about 6 milkers and 5 or 6 kids. We got to the barns, unloaded, set up camp, and started looking around. We were in over our head before the showing even began. These animals were big, gorgeous, and amazing. Had we mistakenly made it to a cattle show and not known? That’s how out of our league we were. Oh well, we had a good experience, anyway. They had youth activities, and that was what I was good at. I took 2nd in judging and 10th in my showmanship class that year. We left knowing that we had a long way to go as far as herd quality and improvement.

One of the saddest days in my career was during the Missouri State Fair in 2002. Eider and I had a very special relationship – she was the animal I used in showmanship. The animal a showman chooses for showmanship has to be the best behaved and most well trained because that is the class where you as the showman are being judged instead of the animal. The judge looks at your ability to handle an animal in the ring and your maneuvers and ability to prepare your animal for show. Eider and I had shown that morning and I won Expert showmanship for the first time. The afternoon was the senior show, and Eider was up for the aged doe class. I went to the pen to check on her, and there she was – lifeless. I felt like I had lost my best friend. It was the end of an era for me. And still very hard to remember. We had been through so many shows together. I found another animal to use in showmanship after that, but it wasn’t ever quite the same.

One of the hardest parts of going off to college and moving away from was not being able to be there in the everyday decisions of the herd. Since I have been gone for so long now, my mom has taken over and done a lot of improvements on the old herd as well as add a few new faces to the group. So when I go home, I don’t recognize a lot of the animals anymore. In fact, all the animals I used to show are long gone, and she even started a completely different breed and line of animals than what I had worked with.

My showing days may be over, but I’ve started a new path in this field. I got my ADGA judge’s license two years ago and judge small shows around a five state area over the summer. I had been judging county fairs and doing youth showmanship clinics for a few years before that, and it was one of my favorite things to do. I got to work with young showmen and teach them techniques and remember how I felt those first few years of showing.

Like writing, cheese making is about the process. Choosing the type of cheese you want to make is like choosing the genre of writing you want to pursue. Do you want soft cheese or short stories? Tangy feta or mild poetry? I have so many stories about my career in goats that it was really hard for me to write this and choose only a few. Owning animals like this has taught me so much. Goats are funny, quirky and loveable animals with distinct personalities and tastes. They certainly don't eat trash - in fact, they can be quite picky eaters! I could talk all day about my hobby. I have had to work hard, learn to lose gracefully, be patient for improvement, be responsible for my pets, and let go of favorites. There have been proud moments, like winning at Nationals or State Fair, or being known for my showing abilities when someone just knows my name; fun moments, like getting to be there when my best does have kids (which I now think is a fun and amazing experience, gross) and goofing off in the barns with people I’ve made friends with over the years; sad moments like losing my favorite animal, selling kids that I wanted to keep but couldn’t, and losing a class I had my heart set on. The people we've shown with are now close family friends - there at funerals, births, weddings, and everything in between. My life has been defined by this seemingly strange and simple project I took on almost 16 years ago. I’ve been so lucky to have done all the things that I got to do with these wonderful animals. Goat showing may not be for everyone, nor may be goat cheese, but it’s something I’m immensely proud of and would do all over again.

This I Believe...

This is an assignment from the class I'm taking right now. To add a qualifier, I'm not sure this is where I wanted this to go - the words didn't come easily for this one, though I mean them just as much as if they had been written other ways.

This I Believe...
Happiness comes in small packages; in a thank you card from a friend, in a smile from a stranger on the street, or in an encouraging email from my mom. Happiness comes in moments; in stunning sunrises, in my dog greeting me excitedly at the door, or in quiet observation on a Missouri River bluff. Happiness comes in giving to others; in seeing a student have that ‘a-ha moment’, in helping a colleague carry a heavy load of books, and in donating what I have to others who have none.

In this society of speed, greed and the desperation to exceed, it’s not hard to forget the basic ability to make myself happy. Getting caught up in the go, go, go lifestyle prevents me from being able to stop and look around to appreciate everything I have. It seems that it’s popular to let myself be negative and pessimistic, and if I don’t feel that way, I feel guilty. I’m supposed to want more, want to BE more or bemoan the cards that life has dealt me.

I believe I create my own happiness and it is available to me easily, if I don’t try to search it out in the wrong places. Taking small joys in the everyday things is the root of contentment. So many people overlook the most simplistic pictures of beauty and pleasure because they distract themselves with a synthetic replacement. Feeling blessed to greet each day is the consequence of personal effort. In this world of instant gratification, most of us miss the awe-inspiring images and events right under our noses if it’s not pointed out to us. Slowing down and ‘smelling the roses’ shouldn’t just be a cliché, but a common practice.

Saturation Starbuck's Rant

The passing of three such iconical pop culture figures within the last week really has me concerned about the state of our overall society and American culture in general. What does it say about us that we focus our major news networks, devoted 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to presenting 'real' news, on a story about the undynamic death of a celebrity for more than 24 hours without respite? What is there to cover other than to rehash and reopen old wounds and topics which are otherwise previously exhausted? What new insight could possibly be offered? In connection, there was a few hours devotion to the explanation of the difference between a heart attack and a cardiac arrest. These are not uncommon occurances. But what message does it send to the families of the 'common' people who have suffered one of these with no attention beyond the mourning of their death? Doesn't that devalue them in the human condition with no particular attention being paid? I do acknowledge that the world is certainly suffering from the loss of someone who, in his past, had contributed greatly to pop music as we now know it and directed the channel of choreography to accompany this music and inspired an entire generation (or multiple generations) in performance. But in all honesty, what else would he have contributed in his late years? What would his 'comeback' shows have looked like, with a frail 50 year old man hobbling around an overly lighted stage with hundreds of thousands of fans being disappointed by this icon tehy held in such high regard. MJ is a great illustration of what pressure to conform could do to someone. His desire over his entire life to become what he believed his family and everyone else wanted him to be drove him to harm himself; and drove his sanity to the brink.

As I sit as Starbuck's, checking my iPhone, surrounded by people of the consumerist, commercialist culture, I am repulsed. By my own informed indulgence in this culture, but also in the blind indulgence and following as sheep that most people take on. Everyone looking around checking to make sure they are equal or above what everyone else has - What are the names on the bags the lady two tables over has? Where did she get the money to go buy the newest style of pumps? What label does the man in white have on that shirt? Are those REAL diamonds in her ears, or just for show? That group of teenagers, rushing in to escape the heat, all vying for their place on the continuum of individuality, don't seem to realize they all look the same in their effort: haircuts, cut of jeans, sling of the hat, even down to the practiced apathetic look they carry on their privileged faces. Malls are quite the enigma in and of themselves - gathering places to cash in your earnings. Did they originate from early Native barter and trade markets? There the trade was something you could offer to help someone else for what they had to help YOU out. Which, I suppose, is exactly what money does for us now, but the goal has shifted from what we need to trading what we WANT. 'Keeping up with the Joneses' has become an act in futility, or insanity. We are indoctrinated from an early age to believe that the answer to happiness is having those items someone else may covet. Everything has a competitive edge or bent, without which all this wealth would be meaningless.

Peel back the days' worth of reports about dead pop stars and you find more filth: Jon & Kate - the exploitation of children for the monetary benefit of the parents; and the governor of SC who lied about his affair and his whereabouts because of the hypocrisy of his actions versus his words. All of this only takes importance because of our reactions to it: if we stop glomming on to non-issues and quit turning them into press-stopping events, we could turn the media tide to what they SHOULD be reporting and WE should be reacting to, such as the election in Iran. Didn't we see this eight years ago in our own country the dangers of allowing someone else to choose our leader? Sadly, the Iranian people will suffer, along with some of the rest of the world (ourselves included) unless something else is done to stop those leaders who would take away the people's choice: ironically, immediately after a 'democratic' election of a 'new' leader. And yet, in our guarded utopias, life goes on, heedless of pressing issues at hand.

Valentine's Day

I couldn't let it slide by without commenting. My ultimate belief is that the holiday is definitely contrite, cliche and obnoxious; but on the terms that it shouldn't be forced upon men (or women) to put together some obvious display of affection. What about the other 364 days of the year? Do you just disregard your significant other on those days and save it all up for this one 24-hour period? I mean, really, if you think about it, this day can certainly make or break a relationship if you put too much emphasis on it. Typically, the poor guy is the one to make all the plans and figure out just what his beloved girlfriend or wife wants in a 'perfect' Valentine's Day. Not fair. I worked as a server in restaurants for almost 10 years and saw more V-Days gone wrong with the couple bickering over the wine, the food, the late reservation, the flowers, the outfit, you name it than sweet ones. It is true, I am single on this Valentine's Day '09, but, although I'm a 25-year old woman who would typically be thought of as bitter and remorseful, I'm enjoying the fact that I'm single by choice. I don't have to meet a societal standard by being with someone just so I don't have to be alone. I refuse to be upset by the high-pressure. Don't get me wrong, I like flowers and a nice dinner with a great bottle of wine just as much as the next girl, but if the guy is only doing it because it's expected, doesn't that at least take a portion of the fun out of it?? I am a hopeless romantic, who believes that expressions of admiration should be done for love's sake, not because the card companies, restaurant industry, and countless other monetary reasons come into play. Truth be told, if I were in a relationship that warranted spending this "holiday" with someone I cared about, I'd being doing a very similar thing with him as what I'm currently doing (minus the blogging, I hope): spending a nice evening in, with rented movies, a couple great bottles of wine, and making my own meal. I do want a relationship with someone who means something to me, but not just so I could be showered with gifts on a pre-ordained day. It's the little things that matter as sometimes the grand gestures fall short of most women's movie-generated fantasies.

A beginning

"Why Colorado?" I'm constantly asked. "Why not?" is my simple response. I live in the middle of the Midwest, and all that entails. I feel that there is such a lack of open-mindedness, curiousity, and zest here that I'm beginning to sense an essence of suffocation and stagnation. I've lived in this general vicinity (changing only for school, a guy and a job; and unfortunately, in that order) my whole life, but never felt that I've 'fit' here. I'm liberal - a major strike, adventurous - seemingly a rarity here, and, at 25, remain unmarried with no children - almost a death sentence. As my friends pair off and procreate, I wonder that I'll be the old maid English teacher forever. Not that I don't love my job. I find joy on a daily basis from what I do: interacting with the future, while showing them the boundless possibilities in literature (which they seldom recognize at this point in their lives) is, in and of itself, a rewarding experience. But I'm plagued by this itch that I've got to get out to find my 'purpose'. So, I'm (hopefully) striking out to graduate school to pursue two Master's degrees at a major university in Colorado. As I anticipate and eventually undergo this move, I hope to chronicle the events here to possibly sort out the ultimate explanation for why I've made this decision. At this point, the definition remains to be that I love the aspect of Colorado in general; the people, the scenery, the mentality of the 'green' lifestyle, the accessibility to the outdoors; and also that I can't wait to be a student again to devote time to research, reading, and furthering those academic pursuits. I've always been a person unafraid of change. The ability to throw caution the wind and embrace change has always been an unusual quirk of mine. So, on this, an uneventful and unaccompanied Valentine's Day of 2009, I begin my quest for a new search. Also, still waiting on a response as to whether or not I actually got accepted into said grad school, so we'll see about that won't we?