First Toss - Training Racing Pigeons

The young racing pigeons have been enjoying sitting outside their loft for several days. It's always an anxious time; hoping they won't get scared off too far, and waiting for them to go back inside.


I know they have figured out how to navigate their loft entrance, and they have taken short flights around the homestead. So today I got their travel crate out, fit it up against their window, and then herded them in.

I am currently experimenting with this method of "basketing";  at present it is easier than catching them individually.


Some flyers don't like to do this, preferring instead to catch each bird and check it over. I figure I can look over each  pigeon as I transfer it to the bigger transport crate.

Once secured in their crate, we headed off down our lane. I chose a spot about 3/4 of the way out, clear of overhead power lines, in plain view of our home.

Upon opening the door, one bird walked right out, and continued over to the edge of the lane where he checked out some weeds. The other three remained in the crate, nervous about the outside world. Finally they decided to leave their box, and joined the first one outside.

For a few minutes they just walked around. The silly birds might have been seriously contemplating just walking home, so not dignified for this beautiful racing breed! After waiting impatiently, I picked up their crate and headed back up our lane. This spurred them to launch into the sky.

They circled overhead several times, meeting up in the air. They flew towards their loft and landed gracefully on their roof. They haven't yet learned to go directly to their entrance, I'm told that will come later as they mature. In the future, at the end of a race, you don't want birds that only sit on their roof, swapping race day stories amongst themselves.

Raising these birds is a great hobby, and I look forward to taking them for many more flights. Stay tuned for updates!

F.R.O.G.

I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Everyone who has met him has asked for further details, and it does make for a good story. So, to quote Al Pacino, “Say hello to my little friend!”

I met “Señor F.R.O.G.” in November 2007 while preparing for my work’s annual Chili Supper & Silent Auction. He was a mixed breed puppy that was donated for the fundraiser. His sister found a home by the evening's end, but the bidding for this little guy fell through. After cleaning up from the event, I had no choice but to take him home for the night, planning to return him to his previous home the next day. That’s when the problems began.

We already had two dogs, our older girl “Chix”, and hubby’s 6 month old mini Dachshund named “D’Artagnan”. Chix has seen other pet siblings come and go, and was unimpressed. Dart, on the other hand, thought I had brought this puppy home just for his own personal pleasure. They bonded immediately, like brothers from another mother.

Then there was the problem of housetraining another puppy. Dart was a challenge, but F.R.O.G. was a good boy from the start. He was happy to sleep in his doggy crate. He seemed smart, obedient, happy to please. And he was too darn cute for his own good. A “chick magnet”, hubby says.

My long-suffering husband offered that maybe F.R.O.G. could stay for the weekend, just to see what he was like. And he conceded that since my cat was very old, and probably not long for this world, that maybe God had brought F.R.O.G. into our lives at just the right time. Mind you, this didn’t mean that hubby liked or really approved of this puppy, but it did mean that F.R.O.G. got to stay.

And then there was the matter of the name. Yes I know Señor Frog’s is a popular tourist bar chain in Mexico. I may (or may not!) admit to dragging my own mother there once. But, really, that’s not where it came from. Did I mention that this puppy always plopped down with his hind legs stretched straight out like a frog? (He still does that to this day.) The puppy’s birth family is of Hispanic descent, and Señor is a Spanish name for Lord. I had recently learned of the acronym F.R.O.G. = Fully Rely On God. And so it all combined and stuck.

Just a couple weeks after this event, my office was destroyed by arson. My life became crazy trying to rebuild our organization and Señor F.R.O.G. often accompanied me as I worked on a new office. I found that every time I called my new puppy’s name, God was gently reminding me to Fully Rely On HIM!

It’s now two years later. The dog named F.R.O.G. is my near constant companion, a furry friend who daily reminds me of God’s love and presence in my life. I hope you can meet him someday!