For a dog that drives me CRAZY, he sure can take a zen photo.
But really … have you ever seen a happier looking
Clydesdale dog in your life?
I’m pretty cheerful too. Sun and warm weather make Food Lady happy! The chickens are clean, the dogs are exercised, the laws are mowed (thank you lawn tractor!) and I’m supposed to be entering my dogs in Regionals … but instead I’m blogging while I debate entering Whacknut AKA Dexter. Last night’s class was visited by plates-for-eyes-spinning-on-wheels-Dexter instead of the sane dog that was my partner for the last couple of months, so I’m having a crisis of confidence again.
I’ve been a very dedicated agility handler and every evening Dexter and I have been outside working on his weave pole entries at speed, at angles, at distance, close up etc. And the third obstacle in the first course was weaves and he whipped past the entry, popped into them around pole #3, did two poles, SPROINGED in the air and sped pell mell back to me barking furiously. *HATE*
On the other hand, practicing weaves is challenging in this crowd. (hah! instead of typing “crowd” I initially accidentally typed “crud” which is funny on all kinds of levels)
(Just so nobody types a long comment about how I should really be practicing weaves with the other dogs put away … I do, actually :) )
And so, as I still cannot decide whether or not to enter the bat eared bastard, I’m procrastinating by:
Laughing at Wootie falling down whilst trying to catch his frisbee.
Imagining what Spring’s voice would sound like if she could swear at her brother in English.
(Mildly) scolding Piper for trying to play frisbee before her 9 week post-op check up (I hope it goes well, and she can start running again!)
Wondering how chickens know which eggs are theirs. I have no accompanying photo for this, I’m just curious. So like, I have this one hen that has gone all broody, so I decided to let her have 6 eggs to sit on rather than eat them, just to see if they will hatch. After all, both roosters are horny enough, they must be fertile. I wrote the date on them (eggs, not roosters) so I can tell them apart from the daily collected eggs. Today when I went into the hen house to clean, broody hen was sitting on her clutch of eggs OUTSIDE the nest box, while some other asshole trying-to-be-broody hen was in the box on a whole new batch of eggs. All the numbered eggs were out on the floor (and there is a lip on the box). AND fake-broody hen pecked the hell out of me when I tried to get her out of the box. Chickens are assholes!
Anyway, maybe in 3 weeks we will have new baby chickens! Although at this rate, my chicken collection is in danger of spiraling out of control … I have 9 three week old Black Cooper Marans at work waiting to come home when old enough.
But I don’t want to sit inside blogging all evening – there are still several more hours of fun left to enjoy! And Kieren says he is ready to rumble again.
And so is Winter! (My favourite thing about this photo is how his little spotty feet are in perfect focus)
Oh and speaking of Winter … the little pee monster has been on Zylkene for just over a week. The house soiling stopped within 24 hours of starting the supplement! He is officially belly band-free. And he has started rough housing with me without shrieking like I am about to beat him to death. Colour me impressed!
And I have to go run on my treadmill, as unlike my svelte, athletic dogs, I’m a veritable butter ball these days. While I flail and gasp on the stupid treadmill, I shall try to compose something poignant and tear-inducing for Tweed’s 13th birthday post in just 3 days. Thirteen! Holy doG.
Enjoy the super hot, sunny weekend friends!