This is a partially threaded warp, just strung through the reed, looking at the back of the reed. The new warp is red and soft violet-and-purples and ashy pinks. All hand-painted or dyed-in-the-wool fingering weight merino. I have begun threading the heddles since I took this photo and might begin weaving tomorrow. The weft will be half handspun and mostly red. Three shawls.

We picked up almost 40 pounds of trash yesterday. We meant to walk a mile north and not begin collecting until we turned for home. But there was too much to ignore and we were overloaded by the time we’d walked a mile.  On the way home we realized we could not even complete our stretch of the shore and left the beach to drag our load on the road. The beach was littered with tiny bits and pieces, but also major chunks of heavy stuff. Usually we find plastic bottle lids, but yesterday there were so many! Many blue and with embossed Japanese characters. Two short lengths of heavy braided rope, poly-styrene foam, and my favorite green plastic twine that I often find in four-inch sections, usually with a knot. There were plastic bottles and a huge hatch lid Gary found late and just in time to use as a sled to drag the junk home. Some trash was stashed and we hope to bring it home today. We will need an extra trash pick-up. Recycling will not take it. No one will take poly–styrene foam in any condition. It is an enduring menace to the environment.

Perhaps it’s understandable that halfway through our walk I held perfectly still when the dog ran up close to me barking. In the past I would have assumed that the wagging tail was counter to the bark. I will not be making assumptions anymore.

The owner was particularly clueless. She called her dog and it did not come. She said her dog was friendly. They always say that. Sometimes it’s mere wishful thinking. She praised the dog when she caught up its collar—she came to the dog. In this case, she just taught her dog to approach people on the beach by charging up and barking. She reinforced the wrong behavior. Good girl. 

This woman had no control over her dog. I said nothing. Gary joked to her that there was “not much trash on the beach today” and she took his comment literally, agreeing that the beach was very clean. Sarcasm is sometimes difficult to catch, but really? We had three over-stuffed bags already in hand—impossible to miss—and no hope of gathering all the trash littering our chosen mile.

Later, as we neared home, another woman came out on the rocks a hundred yards in front of us with a huge travel mug and two dogs off lead, one wearing the “collar-of-shame.” That was a Boxer who charged in our direction, barking and growling. It had already stopped but did not come when called and fought hard against the owner when she tried to get ahold of its collar. The German Shepherd would not come when called either. That was the other reason we turned back for an access trail and came home on the road. Untrained, out-of-control dogs. Dogs who will not come when called.

All of this is almost funny. Back in the day, when we first got Afghans (the early 70s) we were warned that the breed never came when called. This is about 95% accurate. Most Afghan Hounds will come 5% of the time, because they feel like it. On the other hand, if you only call them when they might want to come, they are more likely to respond. Chasing them becomes a hopeless game no human can win. The owner is better off walking away—then they might chase you. They are fast and have a sense of humor, but no inbred obedience. For a time I ran our Afghan Hounds one at a time loose on the beach and most came back happy and grinning once they’d finished their spin. Then a neighbor chased my girl right off the beach and into a car. That was the end of beach runs.

Many years later, our Saluki Yeti ran loose on the beach and always came back once she’d had a good stretch, and then idiots released hutch rabbits “so they can be free.” The tame rabbits had no more sense than to lie down in the middle of the road in the afternoon. Local dogs and cars and weather killed dozens, but you’d have to expect that they bred like rabbits. There were always too many everywhere. Yeti caught her first rabbit when she was still a puppy and I insisted she drip it. She released the rabbit unharmed but understood she was not to actually kill them. That was okay with her. It did not end the chase, but one day she chased a rabbit off the shore, and Yeti’s daily runs ended.

We ran our Afghan at field trials and they were only barely controllable when they thought they had a cane at chasing that shredded white plastic garbage bag. Chasing is what they were meant to do. They loved it. At the end of a course I was quick to retrieve my dog because otherwise they were likely to look around for more fun. At an Arizona Specialty show a flight of geese landed near the outdoor show ring and my Snowbird went wild. I could not get her under control because she was convinced there was a field trial going on and that was so much more exciting than a boring old dog show. People at ringside who recognized what was happening explained to others and everyone was laughing. Her brother was RWD but she was lucky to place in stiff competition. Later she won BOB at the first field trial held by our parent club. (Don’t worry if none of this makes sense to you. It really does not matter. Only, we appreciated our dogs for who they were.)

Sighthounds in general are notorious for not coming when called. Afghans and Salukis deserve that reputation because they were bred to hunt and to hunt without direction. (Killing is different. Some insist that killing is not instinctive for Salukis because most Moslems will not eat improperly killed meat.) Most members of these closely-related hound breeds are intelligent and independent, fully capable of managing their traditional function without human intervention. Unless chasing something, they are likely to turn their heads when you call because they like you and are curious without seeing the need to behave on command. They keep running. They are fastidious and odorless unless actually dirty so they make pleasant companions in the house. It’s just that very few people actually want a 50-pound dog that behaves like a cat. They want an adoring companion. Afghan Hounds rarely do adoring.

All of this seems ironic to me now, since I have met so many dog-owners on the beach who are utterly incapable of controlling their dogs even in what should be neutral situations. Seriously. Some (most) breeds were developed and bred to respond immediately to human commands. They rely on human direction and respond well to it. If you cannot control your German Shepherd or Golden Retriever, you have failed to train your dog. You have failed to develop an appropriate relationship with a domestic animal. You have failed to establish the pecking order that your dog instinctively requires. When that dog is aggressive, you are harboring danger. You need to take a class with your dog to learn how to care and train it.

Otherwise you should not have a dog at all.