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Sorry Sign with Dogs from Hood River, Oregon and Sorry We've Missed You from All of Us

6/30/2016

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Typist: Bethany
Where have the Cascadian Nomads been? This is a question we get asked a lot but lately it has been asked more about the absence of sharing our adventures here than about our actual adventures. Oh, we have still been adventuring. A lot. However, someone has been too busy with pet filled adventures and a new(ish) job to blog. And that someone is me. The job is wonderful. The adventures have been fantastic. It's just at the end of the work day all I want to do is close the computer instead of opening up my blog editor. Not that the blog hasn't been calling to me. Okay. It's been nagging me. I miss it! I miss my readers and my fellow bloggers. Back to my before I had a blog habits as a lurker, I have been keeping up with my favorite blogs, mostly in silence. And I'm sorry.
Neon Sorry sign with three traveling dogs, rough collie Huxley, Cardigan Welsh corgi Brychwyn, and miniature dachshund Wilhelm, Hood River, Oregon, Cascadia
Hood River, Oregon, Cascadia
I'm sorry I have a massive folder of drafted posts that I haven't polished to publish. I am sorry I have missed out on many months of Positive Reinforcement Pet Training Week. I am sorry I have a list of over two hundred blog post ideas, sharing pet friendly travel tips and recent trips, just sitting in a notes file. Most of all, despite all these apologies and my longing to blog again, I am sorry that I don't know when I will get back to regular blogging.
Travel Photography: Neon Sorry sign Hood River, Oregon, Cascadia
Failed photo opp of three dogs and the neon Sorry sign in Hood River, Oregon at night.Sorry for the dusk photo failure.
The new job is fun, challenging, and allows for an extremely flexible schedule. It is the perfect job for someone with my level of wanderlust. I can work remotely or take time off to travel with only the limit of needing to make up as many missed hours as possible. With some of the trips I have had so far this year, working remotely was not an option so I have worked a whole lot of extra hours when I am at home. And it is exhausting! All I want to do when I finish working is close my laptop and spend time with my pets. I am absolutely not sorry for that!

So, fear not, Cascadian Nomads fans, followers, and friends. We are fine, we are having fun, and we will be back. All of the Cascadian Nomads take great pride in inspiring pet friendly wanderlust and encouraging outdoor adventures for all pets. Leo loves gazing out at new vistas. Amelia enjoys exploring new terrain. Huxley can't make enough new friends. Brychwyn always wants to travel an extra mile or more. Wilhelm will never stop finding new places to sniff then snooze. Jason and I want to photograph every second of all of it and I constantly crave sharing it all here with you. We all love this blog. We all love you. Thank you for wondering where we have been. Don't stop wondering! Don't stop asking! Don't be sorry! The Cascadian Nomads will be sharing where we have been again very soon.

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Every Nomad Needs A Place That Feels Like Home, Pets Too #DogwoodWeek10 Environmental

3/19/2016

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Typist: Bethany
When my brother and I were in school full time, my family did most of our traveling in the summer. The annual forlorn feeling of saying farewell to most of my toys as we packed everything into another storage space quickly gave way to the excitement of a new summer of adventures on the road. While our travels back and forth across North America always included visits to various family and friends, it was when we arrived on the shores of Chautauqua Lake, New York, that young nomadic me felt at home. Once the family van was safely parked near the big white, bat filled barn at Bompa and Nee Nee's house, I didn't waste a second thinking about the stuff in storage thousands of miles away. The dogs and I splashed in the creek, ran in the grass, and lounged on the stone porch. At this young age I learned that every nomad needs a place that feels like home, pets too.
Dogwood Photography Photo Challenge Week 10, Portrait: Environmental
"Show a subject in their natural habitat. Their place of work or hobby is a great start. Tell their story with the environment."
Abyssinian Tabby Cat Amelia starts a nap in a travel crate on the living room floor. #DogwoodWeek10 #Dogwood52
Amelia in her "box."
Blue merle cardigan welsh corgi Brychwyn always finds a way to get comfortable in his crate. #DogwoodWeek10 #Dogwood52
Brychwyn in his crate.
Black and tan dapple miniature dachshund Wilhelm inside his cave bed, surrounded by a blanket in his bedroom crate. #DogwoodWeek10 #Dogwood52
Wilhelm in his "burrow."
Triton cockatoo Leo peers out of his cage. #DogwoodWeek10 #Dogwood52
Leo in his cage.
Harlequin blue merle rough collie Huxley lounges in his bedroom crate. #DogwoodWeek10 #Dogwood52
Huxley in his crate.
While I do not consider cages and crates to be the pet's natural habitats, they truly enjoy time in their own private spaces, at home or on the road. Photographing the pets in their place of work or hobby, which I hope the dogs, cat and cockatoo would agree is being out on adventures or at sports, is what I do all the time. Don't get me wrong! I love it. But photos of the pets at home, at rest, was more of a photography challenge. Plus, I captured these photos just before Jason and I left on the first pet-free trip we have taken in almost two years. It comforts me to see how relaxed these furry and feathery nomads are just hanging out at home.
Where do you feel most at home?
This post is a part of the Dogwood Photography 52 Week Photography Challenge. Please see more of our photo challenge posts here.
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Picking Up Dog Poop Almost Killed Me, But I Will Continue To Scoop That Poop, No Matter What

2/23/2016

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The Icy Parking Lot on the Day Picking Up Dog Poop Almost Killed Me, But I Learned I Will Continue To Scoop That Poop, No Matter What: minature dahchsund Wilhelm, Cardigan Welsh corgi Brychwyn, rough collie Huxley are traveling dogs at Snoqualime Pass, Washington, Cascadia.Not A Reenactment of The Icy Parking Lot
Typist: Bethany
The day that cleaning up my dogs poop almost killed me was one of those pet friendly adventure days of the highest highs and the lowest lows. Literally. I was high in the mountains of Cascadia and took a dozen or so rides on a ski lift. Then I was laid out in the parking lot on top of where I had just picked up after my dog. The parking lot that day was a thick sheet of ice dotted like Swiss cheese with potholes of slushy, smelly mud puddles. When we arrived at the ski resort, I quickly but carefully shuffled the dogs across the dangerous frozen muck so they could play in some of the lovely, freshly fallen snow the mountain had to offer. Cascade mountain peaks jutted into the sapphire blue sky 360 degrees around the dogs and I. The white, glittery trees weighted with snow sparkled like friendly ghosts in the late morning sunshine and the dogs blazed furry trails through snow drifts often higher than them. Well, especially higher than dachshund Wilhelm. Once all three dogs seemed content, we braved our way back across the dirty ice rink parking lot with a quick stop at the dumpster so I could dispose of the journey's full, blue plastic bags of dog poop. I settled the dogs safely in for a few hours of car rest while I did some downhill skiing.

It was a glorious day for skiing! I was so happy on the slopes but eventually it was time for lunch and to give the dogs another chance to also enjoy the mid-winter snow. I dined with the dogs and had my fill of ski replacing calories before leashing them up to again brave the harder than concrete, more slippery than an oil slick parking lot. We warily made it safe and sound to the glistening, deeply drifted fresh snow trails where Wilhelm, Brychwyn, and Huxley could safely sniff, romp, and wrestle. Once all three dogs had long tongues dangling joyfully from their heavy fog producing mouths in the cold mountain air, and my hardy lunch felt like it had done enough digesting for me to comfortably get more fantastically smooth ski runs in, the dogs and I turned back towards the dangerous drudgery that was the parking lot. The dumpster and the car were within view as we carefully crossed the slippery void when little dachshund Wilhelm began his "I have to poop" sniffing circles at the end of his leash. As Wilhelm squatted, I removed the glove from my right hand, tucked it firmly under my left arm, and ripped a poop bag from my roll.

Picking Up Dog Poop Almost Killed Me, But I Will Continue To Scoop That Poop, No Matter What: A reenactment of poop bag break.
A reenactment of poop bag break.
Picking Up Dog Poop Almost Killed Me, But I Will Continue To Scoop That Poop, No Matter What: A reenactment of the last thing I saw...
A reenactment of the last thing I saw...
My next, obvious move began the chain of events that lead to my near death dog poop scooping experience. It began with my hand going right through the bottom of the poop bag. Now, I had other poop bags with me, but really? This never happens! And my hand was already cold. I looked at the tiny pile of miniature dachshund poop and decided to fold the dog poop delicately into the torn bag and place it carefully, contamination free, into my left glove. I glanced towards the near-by dumpster. It was less than one hundred yards away. I could make it! I was wrong. The last thing I remember seeing was that precariously not-contained-in-a-tightly-tied-bag in my gloved hand. My next step was a doozy.
Harlequin blue merle Huxley laying in the icy parking lot on the day Picking Up Dog Poop Almost Killed Me, But I learned that I Will Continue To Scoop That Poop, No Matter What.
A dog in the snow; what could be better?
I thudded down onto the ice on my left side, clutching that unsecured dog poop tightly in my left glove. At first, I thought the horrible crunching sound I heard when I slammed onto the freeze was my arm breaking. I believed I had landed on my elbow. Before the dogs could begin leaping on me as if we were beginning an icy parking lot playtime, I don't know how, but I scrambled to my feet, my left arm, right glove, elbow and poop gripping hand tucked tightly at my side. Ouch. It was hard to breath. I mumbled to myself "I am going to be okay." One of the things I love about taking the dogs everywhere is I can talk to myself and people within ear shot think I am talking to the dogs. I muttered "I am going to be okay" again, this time stepping ever so much more slowly and carefully towards the dumpster.
I was not going to let an iced over parking lot and the sound of broken bones echoing through my head stop me from properly disposing of this poop! What seemed like twenty hours and four hundred miles of walking later, but was in actuality was only a few minutes and a dozen steps, I confronted the dumpster. Still afraid to move what I thought was my broken left arm, I gently pried the formed blue plastic crumpled poop bag from my left glove with my still bare right hand. I vaguely remember asking the dogs not to get to near the stinky dumpster as I cracked it open and disposed of Wilhelm's poop. Turning my gaze on my next goal, the car, is an injured shock blur but I do remember exclaiming, "See! I'm okay!" to the dogs, of course. After all, the poop had been scooped and properly disposed of. What is more okay than that? Walking back to the car as if across shards of glass with bare feet, I wiggled my left hand, moved my left arm slowly and discovered that it was fine. Upon getting the dogs back into the car and sitting gently with them under the open back hatch, I braved moving my arm enough to decide that my shoulder may be injured but it was not broken either. Struggling to breath while examining my left arm movement, I remembered that same feeling from another fall I had a few years ago. A fall that, among other things, caused a few cracked ribs. Ah-ha! Honestly relieved that my arm, wrist, and shoulder seemed fine, but beginning to worry about the life threatening complexities of broken ribs, I remembered, at least I had scooped that poop. It was too bad that the days skiing was obviously done. The highest of highs was behind me except for a decent back to Seattle's sea level. But the lowest lows of the day had been worth it. These mountains are too beautiful to have left dog poop laying around!
Snoqualmie Pass, Washington, Cascadia on The Day That Picking Up Dog Poop Almost Killed Me, But I Learned That I Will Continue To Scoop That Poop, No Matter What
Not a reenactment of the end of the beautiful mountain day that picking up dog poop almost killed me.
My broken and separated, front and back, ribs from my fall that day are healing slowly, but I am impatient about these kinds of things. Thank you to my family, friends, readers, and followers who have wished me well and helped me care for five pets while recovering. I am truly thankful to "the poop grip," as it has come to be known, for preventing me from breaking my wrist, arm, or shoulder! I have discovered yet another reason that constantly cleaning up after my dogs, no matter what, without fail, is always the right thing to do.
Have you ever risked your life to do the right thing, cleaning up dog poop or otherwise?
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Selfies With Pets: Three Dogs, A Cat & A Cockatoo #DogwoodWeek1 Self Portrait

1/9/2016

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Typist: Bethany
The 52 Snapshots of Life Photo Challenge last year did a lot to keep me blogging consistently, motivate new pet adventures and encourage imaginative photography during a very tough year for me personally. Although we made it through 2015 with no deaths in the family and I am settling into a good groove of making time for my new job and blogging, I decided to seek out a new photo challenge for 2016 to keep my pet adventures and the photographic documentation of those outings creative and fresh. After a lot of searching, the most inspirational photo challenge I found is the Dogwood Photography 52 Week Photography Challenge. It's week one and I have already been extremely challenged!
 Dogwood Photography Photo Challenge Week 1, Portrait: Self Portrait
"Start things off right with a 'selfie'! Explore the self timer setting on your camera."
Selfie With Pets: Three Dogs. Cardigan Welsh Corgi Brychwyn, Miniature Long Haired Dachshund Wilhelm & Rough Collie Huxley #DogwoodWeek1 #Dogwood52 Self Portrait Photography Challenge
Selfie With Pets: Three Dogs & A Cockatoo. Cardigan Welsh Corgi Brychwyn, Miniature Long Haired Dachshund Wilhelm, Rough Collie Huxley & Triton Cockatoo Leo. #DogwoodWeek1 #Dogwood52 Self Portrait Photography Challenge
Selfie With Pets: Three Dogs, A Cockatoo & A Cat. Cardigan Welsh Corgi Brychwyn, Miniature Long Haired Dachshund Wilhelm, Rough Collie Huxley, Triton Cockatoo Leo and Abyssinian Tabby Cat Amelia. #DogwoodWeek1 #Dogwood52 Self Portrait Photography Challenge
The first thing that appealed to me about the week one challenge is that I have never explored the self timer on my camera. Secondly, I have been wanting to try a fun selfie with myself and all five pets. Until discovering this photo challenge, it had never occurred to me that the timer would be the best way to capture some me and three, four and five pets fun. The photos could have been better composed, angled and lit, but for a bunch of pets and a human that have been relatively sedentary for the last week because the human has a few separated and fractured ribs, I think we did pretty good. And at the least, we got out and had fun together. That is always the point!
This post is a part of the Dogwood Photography 52 Week Photography Challenge. Please see more of our photo challenge posts here.
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Cascadian Nomads Pet Adventure Blog: Budget pet adventure inspiration through stunning photography and amusing dog, cat, cockatoo and human stories.