Last weekend we got to go to the country again. The weather was perfect, the creeks were up and the fall wildflowers were gorgeous. Maverick came with his big dogs, Chigurh and Sir Walter, which made it just perfect. Except for one thing:
Along the fence line of the adjoining ranch, we saw a row of coyotes strung up by their heels. Back in the day people used to do that with “varmints.” But Chica and I had never seen such an abomination until recently when a rancher did the hanging thing several miles down the road.
Now don’t get me wrong. I have no doubt that a coyote would see me and Chica as a comestible, not a cousin. Yet truth be told we’re pretty close kin. I must say it’s really creepy to see a fellow canine hung upside down rotting on a fence. The irony is that studies show that females have larger litters when such exterminations occur. So not only is the practice cruel, it’s futile.
On a happier note, six ladies—two of them new to the group—walked in Brackenridge Park today. The weather was perfect and there was nary a carcass to be seen.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Living the Sweet Life
The ladies skipped the Monday walk since it was Columbus Day. Which, given that it turned mighty cold in Sunday, was probably just as well.
On Saturday, the weather was close to perfect in the country— sunny and coolish with a soft breeze. Chica and I had a glorious walk in Hondo Creek, which had a welcome trickle of water. Mary captured a turtle at the low water crossing and let it go while we were wading.
Chica, who as far as I know had never seen one before, was fascinated and followed it all the way to the shore, where it pushed under a rock overhang.
I preferred to sniff out all the intriguing smells of the country while Lewis and Chica wandered about. Before it was time to go back to the car and home, Lewis took a photo of Mary sitting on a rock by the cliff, holding the two of us. It captured one of those serendipitous moments in time that make life so very sweet.
On Saturday, the weather was close to perfect in the country— sunny and coolish with a soft breeze. Chica and I had a glorious walk in Hondo Creek, which had a welcome trickle of water. Mary captured a turtle at the low water crossing and let it go while we were wading.
Chica, who as far as I know had never seen one before, was fascinated and followed it all the way to the shore, where it pushed under a rock overhang.
I preferred to sniff out all the intriguing smells of the country while Lewis and Chica wandered about. Before it was time to go back to the car and home, Lewis took a photo of Mary sitting on a rock by the cliff, holding the two of us. It captured one of those serendipitous moments in time that make life so very sweet.
Friday, September 21, 2012
The Growling's got to Stop!
From the dawn of time man has debated why dogs do the things they do. Theories abound. Countless books have been written on the subject. Now I have a dog question.
You'd think I'd understood all Chica’s behavioral quirks, being a dog myself. But not so. She's much sweeter natured than I except at bedtime. That’s when she turns into a momentary monster. When I jump up on the bed with her and my mistress, Chica growls with the ferocity of a mad dog. It’s so primal that it's scary even though I'm bigger. Once I settle in she does stop, thank goodness.
Now I’m no shrink, but my first guess is that she's jealous. But if that were the case why wouldn’t she do the same thing in the daytime when I jump up beside her and my mistress on the sofa? Could it be night blindness? Maybe, but she knows it’s me by my scent. So what is it?
I’m asking the readers of this blog, both human and canine, to help me figure this one out before I lose my cool and bite her.
You'd think I'd understood all Chica’s behavioral quirks, being a dog myself. But not so. She's much sweeter natured than I except at bedtime. That’s when she turns into a momentary monster. When I jump up on the bed with her and my mistress, Chica growls with the ferocity of a mad dog. It’s so primal that it's scary even though I'm bigger. Once I settle in she does stop, thank goodness.
Now I’m no shrink, but my first guess is that she's jealous. But if that were the case why wouldn’t she do the same thing in the daytime when I jump up beside her and my mistress on the sofa? Could it be night blindness? Maybe, but she knows it’s me by my scent. So what is it?
I’m asking the readers of this blog, both human and canine, to help me figure this one out before I lose my cool and bite her.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Steppin' out with Shaun the Sheep. Not.
On Thursday Mary took some out-of-town cousins up to the country. Without us. We were pretty fussy about not getting to run in the creek, but at least we had the grandchildren to play with in her absence. Well if you call “play” sitting with them on the couch in front of TV. Frankly we’re a bit weary of Sesame Street and Shaun the Sheep.
On Monday the ladies and Chica and I walked 8,000 steps (theirs, not ours) in Brackenridge Park on a fall-like morning. Since it's cooling off they'll start their walks later after Labor Day.
On Monday the ladies and Chica and I walked 8,000 steps (theirs, not ours) in Brackenridge Park on a fall-like morning. Since it's cooling off they'll start their walks later after Labor Day.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Pork Roast does the trick
Yet AGAIN Mary and Lewis have left us to languish at the vet's. This time they went to the coast. For once, Chica and I didn’t make a fuss when they left us. One reason was that we got to share a cage. But mainly, we just figured why bother.
On Monday Mary and two other Brackenridge Belles walked in the park. Us bitches didn’t get to go since the vet wasn’t open in time. Afterward, Mary and granddaughter Christina sprung us. Back home we snuffled around the house, making sure there had been no intruders.
As far as we could tell there were none, though there was a distinct scent of rat. Not being terriers, Chica and I let that pass. I've heard terriers don't eat rats, so killing them must a way to make points with their master. Well we do that simply by being so cute, right?
Our confinement was made worthwhile by what Mary did to assuage her conscience: she shared leftovers from a pork roast. I must say that did the trick, because any abandonment feelings Chica and I might have harbored evaporated with the first succulent bite.
On Monday Mary and two other Brackenridge Belles walked in the park. Us bitches didn’t get to go since the vet wasn’t open in time. Afterward, Mary and granddaughter Christina sprung us. Back home we snuffled around the house, making sure there had been no intruders.
As far as we could tell there were none, though there was a distinct scent of rat. Not being terriers, Chica and I let that pass. I've heard terriers don't eat rats, so killing them must a way to make points with their master. Well we do that simply by being so cute, right?
Our confinement was made worthwhile by what Mary did to assuage her conscience: she shared leftovers from a pork roast. I must say that did the trick, because any abandonment feelings Chica and I might have harbored evaporated with the first succulent bite.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
From Cacti to the Lost Maples Cafe
Over the weekend Chica and I went to the country with our master and mistress. The idea was to clean house and mow the yard, but instead they tackled some invasive cactus in the back yard.
Recently, the grandkids had a hard time placing their tent because of it. So Mary and Lewis, shovels in hand, set to work. By the time they had dug up nine garbage bags full of the prickly stuff, their hands and feet were covered in spines. Us dogs kept our distance so we had no such problem.
The spiny ones left us at the house and took a long lunch break up the road in Utopia, where they had hamburgers and homemade pies at the Lost Maples Café. Afterwards, they hiked the Lost Maples Trail at the Lost Maples Natural Area. Due to the heat, there was not another soul on the trail, unlike last fall when the leaves turned.
Mary, who has a significant birthday this fall, has decided to celebrate that occasion with immediate family at the Lost Maples Cafe and the Natural Area. Hopefully Chica and I will be included this time, since we are about as immediate as you can get.
Back home, we accompanied our Mistress and Martha Siv on a walk in Brackenridge Park on Monday. Hard to believe that the ladies continue to brave the heat week after week. But as long as they’re game, we are.
Recently, the grandkids had a hard time placing their tent because of it. So Mary and Lewis, shovels in hand, set to work. By the time they had dug up nine garbage bags full of the prickly stuff, their hands and feet were covered in spines. Us dogs kept our distance so we had no such problem.
The spiny ones left us at the house and took a long lunch break up the road in Utopia, where they had hamburgers and homemade pies at the Lost Maples Café. Afterwards, they hiked the Lost Maples Trail at the Lost Maples Natural Area. Due to the heat, there was not another soul on the trail, unlike last fall when the leaves turned.
Mary, who has a significant birthday this fall, has decided to celebrate that occasion with immediate family at the Lost Maples Cafe and the Natural Area. Hopefully Chica and I will be included this time, since we are about as immediate as you can get.
Back home, we accompanied our Mistress and Martha Siv on a walk in Brackenridge Park on Monday. Hard to believe that the ladies continue to brave the heat week after week. But as long as they’re game, we are.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Fall's not in the air
Rising temperatures are really getting scary. Today it was reported that street lights in Stillwater, Oklahoma melted. Corn crops on the way to our country place are fried.
Worst of all, if my mistress doesn’t get us out by 8:30 at the latest, Chica and I don’t get our walk until after 9:00 at night.
Worst of all, if my mistress doesn’t get us out by 8:30 at the latest, Chica and I don’t get our walk until after 9:00 at night.
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