Large Fierce Mammal

“No organism can afford to be conscious of matters with which it could deal at unconscious levels.” ~ Gregory Bateson – Steps to an Ecology of Mind

Every living thing in Nature, flora or fauna, has a Way that defines its ideal state of being. That balanced equation of form and function forged by generations of evolution against the anvil of environmental reality. This ideal state of being is, for each species, its own unique expression of the greater, all encompassing Way – the Way of the Wild – the Way from which all others spring.

The Way of the Wild deals with Life, Death, who gets each, and when. For successful organisms, embracing this Way is not a choice, and of all things on the Earth, only one kind flirts with living as though this were not so – Man. For the most part, human society does not embrace Wild in its Natural sense, viewing it instead as representing all that is wanton, dangerous, and out of control. An unpredictably unacceptable condition fit only to be tamed or eradicated for the greater; i. e., human; good. Down that path lies a disconnection wrought by an artificially orchestrated thing called “civilization”, built on a foundation of conflict with the Way of the Wild. This will one day resolve itself, one way or another, and of that resolution only one thing can be said with certainty – the Way of the Wild will prevail, as it always has and always will.

And does this mean the end of all Mankind? I sincerely doubt it, because a state of balance and harmony is not found by living in a continuous state of discord with Nature. In our work with troubled Dogs, Mrs. LFM and I must seek to restore and cultivate the Way of the Wild as it sincerely expresses itself in that so familiar and yet so misunderstood of animals. Wild is not the same as unpredictable or dangerous. Far from it. Wild is purity of spirit and perfection of action, in harmony with the Nature of things, and the nature of every thing, free from conscious thought and attendant paralyzing indecision. This is not to imply that all in Dogs and Men is or should be a matter of instinct. Rather we need Nature to nurture as training proceeds. Wild is a return to first principles from which training can begin on a foundation that is known and understood.

The Way of the Wild, then, is the ultimate in predictability. If the Way of the Wild is suppressed, denied, or otherwise forced into hiding, trouble follows. That too is predictable. And thus endeth this Wednesday’s lesson.

Mrs. LFM recently brought to my attention a job posting for a position, one of the primary duties of which was proof reading. The job posting contained two errors that proof reading should have  corrected before the item went out for publication. An argument could be made that the errors weren’t corrected because they really, really need to hire a proof reader, and no mistake, or that the errors were intentional, put there in an attempt to ferret out prospects with the right combination of savvy and guts to point them out. My experience, and its attendant dim view of what passes for attention to detail in the business world these days, leaves me convinced that it was nothing more than sloppy work. In the end, we’ll never really know, but I will stick with my assessment.

In related news, this morning’s e-mail contained an unsolicited invitation to attend a “Seminar to Develope New Businesses” – the header of which appears at the top of this story. I will forever forgive typos, but that’s not what this is, and based on this singular lack of attention to detail, I wouldn’t involve myself with its originator even if I had an interest in buying what they’re selling.

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains of the moon.

~ The Hobbit ~

My 24 June 2012 article, Art, Science, Life, and Reality – Certified Organic, attracted a lot of attention, and some supportive observations from more than a few of my fellow travellers on The Path. The list included some notables that I hold in the highest levels of Respect, among them my esteemed Friend Gary Carbone who left a comment there last evening that was the catalyst for what you’re reading today –

I enjoyed reading through this, several times. The path taken by Musashi began with the sword and evolved into the way of living, the kung fu of living in the world. A most worthwhile path, but surely not respected or valued in this “culture”. For me, there is one great thing that comes of it – the joy of finding others on this path. Beware of posers though!

After reading Gary’s kind and astute reaction, one sentence stood out – “A most worthwhile path, but surely not respected or valued in this ‘culture’”. He is absolutely right, and his words touched on so many aspects of the world that I have powerful feelings about, I set about writing a reply that quickly got out of hand … and so, this. (more…)

When I go into a coffee shop it’s always serious business, for I am in need of the blackest, most evil brew they have. The one that, if not sold quickly, will eat through the pot, the floor beneath, and on to the Earth’s core. Yesterday I was doing a routine inspection on some equipment at a local market that sells a pretty great nasty beverage of its own, and noticed this label on the vessel that held, for whatever reason, decaffeinated “coffee”. De-caf serves about the same purpose in the world as a recipe book that tells you what to do with left over wine.

I suppose it might make a half-assed leather dye.

I serendipitously found this on my current path of study. The live action fight choreography in the segments that weren’t excerpts from other productions is stilted to say the least, and a few other fluffs appeared that I won’t elaborate on, but what the hell. Mrs. LFM and I are Mark Decascos fans, and, while it has its flaws, this is a worthy watch. Enjoy it, or not. Watch and comment!

Apply yourselves or I will SMITE you!

Miyamoto Musashi‘s teachings come down to us today through his Book of Five Rings, a short but very pointed bit of work that exists on store shelves in a variety of translations, most of which are little more than exercises in linguistics rather than being true interpretations rendered from any meaningful foundation of martial understanding. To my mind, the absolute best interpretation, bar none as of this date, is The Book of Five Rings – The Definitive Interpretation of Musashi’s Classic Book by Hanshi Stephen F. Kaufman. My own copy was published in 1994, has been re-read annually since then, and each year the Large Fierce Mammal who reads it is not the one of the year before. Seen in the light cast by another year of life, study, experience, and reflection, every year a new layer of enlightenment is added as Musashi, through Kaufman, speaks to the latest iteration of me. I’m presently in the midst of my 2012 foray into it, and unreservedly recommend its inclusion in everyone’s must read list. Where the words of Musashi are quoted in what follows, that was the source. (more…)

In my article Ticks: Threat or Menace?, published on the Golden Mountain Dog Solutions blog back in 2008, I debunked an incredible litany of bad advice and disinformation provided in the popular press by way of an interview with Dr. Edith Angelopoulos who has taught parasitology at Dalhousie University for lo these 30 very odd years. Among other pearls of wisdom, her credentials and impressive CV notwithstanding, Dr. Angelopoulos stated with the greatest of authority that, once attached, a tick cannot be removed without breaking off its head which can then only be extracted by microsurgery, and that the biggest carriers of ticks are dogs. At least that time, the only connection between the delusional pronouncements of the “expert” in question (and let me be clear, I found her to be exceptionally questionable) and any sort of agenda was the fact that Lyme disease was then very much in the spotlight, and the press needed to maintain the momentum of its latest incarnation of baseless hysteria. I can’t say the same for my most recent discovery which I regard as insidiously troubling. (more…)

When you work in the field of Dog rehabilitation, you’ll get bitten occasionally no matter how careful, vigilant, or skilled you are. A couple weeks ago I sustained some nasty wounds putting a stop to a disagreement between two large dogs. I accomplished my goal of restoring peace and good order before pulling up my surprisingly intact sleeve to reveal what I already assumed to be pretty good punctures. If you’re queasy about these sorts of things, you may want to read the rest of this with your eyes closed. And no, they weren’t the result of an attack directed at me – they were accidentally delivered when my arm moved back into the mouth of a dog that was close behind me. He stopped as soon as he realized what he’d done, and insisted on rolling onto his back in front of me whenever I paid any attention to him for the next few days. (more…)

Last Saturday, Mrs. LFM and I returned to the venue I wrote about in my 15 April 2010 article, Off the Beaten Path. This time it was just the two of us, which paid off because we were able to be more stealthy and therefore met up with some things we wouldn’t otherwise have seen.

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

The adventure started even before we hit the woods when, stopping at a local store to buy some supplies, Mrs. LFM spotted this translucent spider on her window as she got out of the car.

The hike to “Little Bluff” starts with approximately 3 kilometers of travel along the former rail line that has since been groomed into a trail system for hikers, bikers, and RV enthusiasts. The trail runs through several large bogs along the way, affording encounters with appropriately boggy flora and fauna. Case in point, the Blue Flag Iris:

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

Mrs. LFM looked so good shooting the Iris that I couldn’t resist capturing the moment myself …

LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

Not far beyond where these pictures were taken, my keen hunter’s eye spotted a female Eastern Painted Turtle preparing a nest to lay her eggs …

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

She had picked a precarious place to lay her eggs – only about a meter off to the side of a well travelled trail – but on our return we found her gone, having left a well covered and camouflaged nest in her wake.

We had no direct sightings of the larger mammals known to inhabit the area, most notably White Tailed Deer, Black Bear, and Coyote, but deer tracks were about, and the ever present Coyote scat. The trail was lined on both sides with what looks to be a promising Huckleberry crop though, so I’m sure at least a few representatives of the Bear population will make their way there in due course. We were happy to note that the huckleberry blossoms were humming with Bees, a critter we’ve noticed to be disturbingly rare in our back forty this spring.

Not far from where the events related in my recent poem, Connection, played out, Mrs. LFM photographed this basketlike Spider web, inhabited by an astoundingly small Spider considering the magnitude of its creation which was about 6 inches in diameter, and contained the remains of many successful kills. If you can identify this Spider by its handiwork, please do leave a comment …

Mrs. LFM photo. Click the picture to enlarge.

Here we are at the summit at last, and even though you can’t see them, trust me when I tell you that the Blackflies and Mosquitoes were nothing short of marvelous …

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

Divesting ourselves of our packs, I took a moment to reply to a text from the ever pesky Peter Thompson who kept lamenting the fact that we hadn’t invited him along. The WW2 era Pattern 37 webbing I’m wearing was in unissued condition when I bought it about 13 years ago, and according to the date stamps it’s 69 years old. That makes it a fair bit older than me, and amazingly, even older than Thompson …

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

In the spirit of Tyrion Lannister as expressed in  his famous quote from Game of Thrones, “I just want to stand on top of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world,” I stood atop the 50 odd feet of cliff and paid my respects to the bottom of a most impressive crevasse …

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

Mrs. LFM kindly photographed my assemblage of customary bush tools, minus the Leatherman Charge XTi and Victorinox Swiss Army Knife that were still on my person when the picture was taken. Her own assortment was just as thorough, but still awaiting their Big Reveal. Left to Right: Jerry Fisk Bowie knife, Columbia River Knife and Tool Minimalist Bowie, Jerry Fisk field knife, and Peter Thompson hand axe. You might want to consult Master at Arms Jim Keating’s recent and entertaining read, You Can Tell a Lot About a Person by the Knife They Carry, to assist you in divining what this says about me …

Mrs. LFM photo - Click the picture to enlarge.

10 kilometers there and back again, and a spirit restoring day for us both.

For those of you eagerly awaiting your chance to read The Book of Dark Sentiments, I’m releasing here the contents of that tome’s Introduction:

Dark Sentiments is the name of an annual series that appears on my Large Fierce Mammal website every October, each day of that month presenting observations and tales of people, things, doings, and goings on that come from the dark side of Nature, human and otherwise. “Darkness”, as it inspires me, isn’t limited to expressions of evil, mayhem, and bad outcomes. Something can also be considered “dark” if it is unknown, misunderstood, or incorrectly interpreted.  So, depending on your sensibilities good reader, I believe that if the title of this book, let alone the name of its author,  didn’t dissuade you from picking it up, then you will find some modicum of entertainment in what follows. Nevertheless, you may also come to find, albeit too late because by then the arrow will have already found its mark, that some portions are best avoided by those imbued with that tortured combination of empathy, clarity of visualization, and a propensity for nightmares.

My inspiration for the poetry that appears here comes to me through tendrils that lead back to a multitude of personal explorations, discoveries, waypoints, and encounters, all of which have contributed to making me Me. It also comes in no small part from a love for the works of Edgar Allan Poe and Robert Service, from which I find myself seeking an atmosphere of the sort that might prevail if the two found themselves snow bound for a month in a lonely cabin far from anywhere.