Today, three Brackenridge Belles and two bitches walked through the park and the adjacent River Road neighborhood. The weather was perfect, and although the ladies didn’t really give us dogs much time for sniffing, Chica and I adored the outing anyway.
Ann clocked 3,457 steps taken in an hour’s time, equaling 1.534 miles. It was the first time she had used a pedometer app on her iPhone and she didn’t know to turn it off while the ladies savored some luscious almond croissants from the Olmos Park Bistro afterward. Hence the average mph came to a puny 1.6. I'm sure the calorie intake (not by us as the ladies shared nary a crumb with the canines) surely was way more than the calories walked off.
But who's counting? When Mary Lil mentioned the croissants’ richness at the Olmos Park bakery where she bought them, they came back with “but almonds are so good for you.” Just wish they'd said almonds were good for dogs, too.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Brackenridge Belles and Bitches
Today the Brackenridge Broads and Bitches got a new name. And a new walker. At Ann's suggestion, “Broads” became “Belles,” which is more fitting given that the new walker, Pam, is a generation younger. Due to Sunday morning's heavy rain, they weren’t able to enter the River Road neighborhood via a low water crossing. Instead they checked out Red McCombs’ weapons collection in the lobby of his nearby building. I would tell you a bit about it, but the guard told my mistress that dogs weren’t allowed. I say that’s a bitch. Being one, I should know.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Brackenridge Broads and Bitches
On Monday, the Walkie Talkies took their third weekly stroll through Brackenridge Park, checking out the construction at the Witte Museum along the way. Since they’ve decided to move their meeting place from Olmos Park to Brackenridge Park, they discussed renaming themselves while they walked the 2.8 miles they logged that day. From now on they are to be called... ta da…. “the Brackenridge Broads.”
Mary had suggested “Brackenridge Beauties,” but as all of the women in question are of a certain age, Ann suggested “broads” was more appropriate. (If it had been up to me and Chica we might have gone for something like “Brackenridge Broads and Bitches,” but we weren’t asked.)
Back home, we recovered awhile on our mistresses’ bed and then went out in the back yard to watch the Monarch butterflies, who were savoring lantana and butterfly weed blooms en route to their winter home in Mexico.
Speaking of food, Mary has started cooking a mixture of hamburger, brown rice and vegetables for us. It's soooo much better than the dry dog food we'd been getting. Hope she keeps it up. We love it!
Mary had suggested “Brackenridge Beauties,” but as all of the women in question are of a certain age, Ann suggested “broads” was more appropriate. (If it had been up to me and Chica we might have gone for something like “Brackenridge Broads and Bitches,” but we weren’t asked.)
Back home, we recovered awhile on our mistresses’ bed and then went out in the back yard to watch the Monarch butterflies, who were savoring lantana and butterfly weed blooms en route to their winter home in Mexico.
Speaking of food, Mary has started cooking a mixture of hamburger, brown rice and vegetables for us. It's soooo much better than the dry dog food we'd been getting. Hope she keeps it up. We love it!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Brackenridge Park's the Place
On Monday the Walkie Talkies did Brackenridge Park again. Four ladies and two dogs struck out for what my mistress calls the “frog bridge.” What could have been a boring concrete span over a drainage ditch is instead an eye catcher, thanks to a series of ceramic plaques. Created by artist Diana Kersey, they depict the life cycle of frogs, starting with courtship. Chica and I liked that one set of plaques is for people above and another is for the frogs below.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Bad Habits
Though there have been no more hawk sightings in our yard, Mary continues to dress us dogs in sundresses as a deterrent. Jimmie McMullan, a vet with a wicked sense of humor, has written in: "I hope the dresses aren't the sexy, skimpy types. I think they should wear habits. Even Chickenhawks will be afraid of accosting God's bitches."
Monday, September 12, 2011
Walking on the Wild Side
Now that fall is (barely) in the air, my mistress’ walking group has started up again. Because several members had Wednesday conflicts, they have moved the day to Monday. Four ladies trekked through Brackenridge Park today, logging 1.83 miles and working off 125 calories in an hour’s time. The stats are thanks to Mary Lil Chappell, who whose odometer clocked our steps through the Sunken Garden and back to the zoo via the skyline walk above the Gardens.
I must say it was a far more civilized walk than one my doggie friends Chigurh and Sir Walter took at our country place last weekend. In fact, had Chica and I joined them and their master, Maverick, on that walk I probably wouldn’t be writing this entry.
It seems that a coyote followed them early one morning along the rocky Hondo Creek bed. Maverick, who is Mary’s younger son, said it stayed about 10 feet behind them all the way, barking in a high-pitched voice. Fortunately, Chigurh and Sir Walter-- Maverick’s newly adopted rescue lab--are large enough that the coyote never ventured closer. But, desperate as it was due to the drought, I have no doubt it would have nabbed one or both of us little dogs straightaway.
In the course of the walk, Maverick found the skeleton of what might be a ring tailed cat and Sir Walter found a canine skull of some sort. Both animals probably starved, which may be the fate of the barking coyote.
Perhaps it was the scent of coyotes that put me on edge, but for some reason I became really snappy that night. And when Mary reached for me to take off my harness at bedtime I lunged at her, giving her a black eye. She was so concerned about my behavior that she called the vet when they got back to town. Dr. Kothmann suggested it could be that my night vision is not good, that the sudden movement from above alarmed me, or, perhaps it was a form of PTSD, stemming from the time when I was mauled by a neighborhood stray.
Who knows why dogs do things? People go to shrinks to find out why they do the things they do and still don’t always know why. So I’m not going to try to guess what happened to me that night. Mary is more careful with me now and I’m hoping never to go Cujo again. If I do, I fear she might take me for a walk with the coyotes in the country.
I must say it was a far more civilized walk than one my doggie friends Chigurh and Sir Walter took at our country place last weekend. In fact, had Chica and I joined them and their master, Maverick, on that walk I probably wouldn’t be writing this entry.
It seems that a coyote followed them early one morning along the rocky Hondo Creek bed. Maverick, who is Mary’s younger son, said it stayed about 10 feet behind them all the way, barking in a high-pitched voice. Fortunately, Chigurh and Sir Walter-- Maverick’s newly adopted rescue lab--are large enough that the coyote never ventured closer. But, desperate as it was due to the drought, I have no doubt it would have nabbed one or both of us little dogs straightaway.
In the course of the walk, Maverick found the skeleton of what might be a ring tailed cat and Sir Walter found a canine skull of some sort. Both animals probably starved, which may be the fate of the barking coyote.
Perhaps it was the scent of coyotes that put me on edge, but for some reason I became really snappy that night. And when Mary reached for me to take off my harness at bedtime I lunged at her, giving her a black eye. She was so concerned about my behavior that she called the vet when they got back to town. Dr. Kothmann suggested it could be that my night vision is not good, that the sudden movement from above alarmed me, or, perhaps it was a form of PTSD, stemming from the time when I was mauled by a neighborhood stray.
Who knows why dogs do things? People go to shrinks to find out why they do the things they do and still don’t always know why. So I’m not going to try to guess what happened to me that night. Mary is more careful with me now and I’m hoping never to go Cujo again. If I do, I fear she might take me for a walk with the coyotes in the country.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Cooper's Hawk it is
This just in: It looks like we may have a positive identification on the hawk that’s hanging around our yard. Wildlife expert Patty Leslie contacted bird experts Tom and Patsy Inglet, who sent a photo almost identical to one my mistress took. It’s of a Cooper’s Hawk.
Mary researched Cooper’s Hawks on the internet and found that their diet consists of small birds and mammals. But how small? Generally, it said, they will eat squirrels and mice. But, it noted ominously, “mammalian prey can be as small as mice and as large as hares.” And, they are “deadly accurate in backyards.” Eeek!!
Mary researched Cooper’s Hawks on the internet and found that their diet consists of small birds and mammals. But how small? Generally, it said, they will eat squirrels and mice. But, it noted ominously, “mammalian prey can be as small as mice and as large as hares.” And, they are “deadly accurate in backyards.” Eeek!!
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