A recent hunt re-cap

Two weeks ago I loaded up my little camper trailer and all four of us headed out for a 350-mile trip to a friend's farm where we got to do some bird hunting.

Birds were scarce, but it was good to see my friends again and have some quality time with them. The dogs, all three, enjoyed the trip, too. Em and Jack were out in the fields every day and Mags stayed back in the trailer, which she loves. She made comfy nests in the big bed and there were no complaints from her.

We had the chance to hunt a lovely private preserve that had some of the best habitat I have seen in a long time. Nevertheless, there were few birds. The day we hunted there we had six hunters and a like number of dogs. Jack and Emma performed well, but we didn't get into more than three rises on the whole day.

My hosts were apologetic but I assured them it had been a great day and I wasn't disappointed at all. The dogs had many great days, as did I. I know the dogs would have liked more rises and more birds in the bag, but I don't hunt to kill things. I hunt to be with the dogs, and revel in watching their joy as they work. It was also good to hunt with friends and enjoy some great days afield.

We were gone almost a week. Excellent trip, but we were all glad to be home. Mags dashed inside, jumped up on the couch, and did her patented head-stands in joy to be back in her house.

Good Day, No Birds

Jack and I hunted a neighbor ranch today. We saw a lot of birds but they were all doing their road-runner imitations— tails high, legs flashing in a sprinter's blur. I think they have two mottoes: "You fly, you die!" and "Be bold, don't hold!" Or something like that. But despite a bitter cold wind Jack was enthusiastic and didn't want to quit. Once the snow started (almost horizontal!) I wimped out and suggested we call it a day and he grudgingly agreed.

The Birthday Girl

Emma is ten today. Ten good years with a good dog!

It saddens me when my dogs grow old. Such good friends should live much longer than they actually do. Emma is just now beginning to show her age, but she is still up for a full day of hunting, or anything else that you might have in mind. She's a bit creaky the next morning, but ready to go again if you are.

I am well aware that dogs could not care less about birthdays, but I do. So she will get a "special dinner" today. That's the tradition around here. And that means that Mags and Jack will also get special dinners because they are great believers in their own version of the Fairness Doctrine which states that what One gets the Others get as well. Why not? Birthdays are to be celebrated by all!

When the cord snaps

Last night I was once again impressed with how easily the thin cord of civilization can be severed. So much depends on those wispy little power lines snaking in from the outside world. Last night, about 1800, they failed.

This is not an unusual thing out here, but I have gotten in the habit of calling it in immediately, since the phone company's line batteries tend to go out very quickly. I keep a little old-fashioned line-powered 'phone handy for just such occasions, even though I can hardly hear the other party. My power coop is aces, and no matter the problem they hustle to get it solved.

About an hour after the juice stopped flowing I fired up the fireplace, since the temp was dropping rapidly from about 28°. I lit the oil lamps, unplugged computers, the VCR and the TV, and settled into a rocker with the iPad for some reading. This was the first time I had the iPad during a power failure and glad I was to have it. The backlight makes reading a delight— reading with oil lamps is not what it's cracked up to be in books about the Good Old Days— and the 10+ hour battery is a comfort. (If you just listen to music on it it will last a lot longer. Sixteen days by one test.) I read from Richard Harding Davis's war correspondent writings until about midnight when I pulled out the couch-bed in front of the f/p and the dogs and I sacked out.

The power popped back on at 0230 this morning and I restarted the furnace. The temp was 15° outside but the house temp had only dropped to 66°, even though I had let the fire go out after we went to bed, thanks to all that good insulation.

I never started the genny. Didn't see the need.

There's nothing like a power failure to bring home how much we depend on that wired-in juice. Just about everything comes to a screeching halt when it fails, especially if it's after dark. It's probably a Good Thing that it happens from time to time to keep us humble. And to remind us to know where the flashlights are and to keep plenty of lamp oil on hand. We live on a thin crust wherever we happen to be.

Prairie raisins

Lots of these around the place. They are essentially everywhere, in various sizes and consistencies. The dogs are connoisseurs, unfortunately, but they are dogs, after all. Some they just sniff at; others they savor. Sheep leave similar gifts and in Ireland I know them as "Kerry raisins."

The deer are still around.

Boy-dogs and "tools"...

All of my males have been fascinated by tools and their use. Murphy, my Rottie, was the tool-champ. If I (or anyone else) was using a tool of almost any type he would be right there, watching. Sometimes when I finished with the tool he would sneak off with it. He did that with hammers, pliers, crescent wrenches, etc. Once he even tried to make away with a small electric drill. Jack is much the same. NONE of my girl-dogs have had any interest whatsoever in tools or "tool process." I find this very interesting.

I found this surprise on my game cam when I checked it y'day...

Yes, Jack, it's another tool.

My daily chuckle

Not a day goes by that my dogs don't give me a good laugh. Usually it's either Mags or Jack, and sometimes both together. This morning there was a mad chase around the place for a few minutes followed by a tug-of-war after Jack found one of their favorite toys in the grass. This struggle went on for a good five minutes with neither competitor giving an inch. Jack is strong enough that he can lift her off the ground and whirl her around. (She likes that apparently.) He's also strong enough to get it away from her with a couple of vicious, neck-wrenching snaps. But he doesn't. It's surprising how careful he is and how much he veils his strength advantage.

It's great fun to watch them enjoying each other.

Come and gone...

The regular firearm deer season is over now, ending at sundown yesterday, and I didn't "harvest" a deer during it. I had many opportunities, as they were literally all over the place at all hours.

But if I change my mind we have a month-long muzzleloader season for me to remedy my malfeasance.

I think one of the problems is that I still have venison in the freezers from last year and I don't like even the appearance of being greedy or unappreciative. I also hunt very much by the feelings of the moment. Is it "right," or not. And so far it hasn't felt "right."

Been Gone

I've been "off-duty" for a while. Hard to believe it has been that long.

Our little house on the prairie is sailing into the teeth of winter now, which comes on apace. It continues to be a strange fall— one day being a balmy 60° with lovely sun and little wind and the next morning it will be 10° at sun-up. It certainly keeps things interesting.

Jack is back. Same ol' lovable Jack but a sharper dude in the field, and stylish too. He's been used to daily exertion and bugs me no end when he doesn't get his ration of run-and-search. I was a bit concerned about him when I got him home as he was very thin. "Skin and bones" would not have been un-apt. But when I weighed him I found that he had lost just a single pound. I would have sworn at least ten. Everything had been turned to hard muscle and it all showed when he moved.

I'm a firm believer in lean dogs, but he was a bit too lean for my taste so I have been building him up a bit with special fatty beef stews over his kibble and that sort of thing. He's already looking better to my eyes. I never want him to be fat, but I do want him to have a bit of reserve.

The regular firearm deer season here ends tomorrow. I have had at least twenty opportunities to take one and have yet to do so. I'm just not as keen on it as I once was, and I guess I am waiting for a sign that "this is the one"— which hasn't come yet.

I can't believe the holiday season is once more upon us. And soon it will be over and we can say Another one down!

Jack goes back to skool

Yesterday my boy Jack went away for his last semester at Burd Dawg Skool. I'm already missing him, a lot. So is Mags, as they are great buddies and playmates. Jack's constantly happy approach to life, his merry pranks, and his gentle good-heartedness have become an essential part of the household and I'm already thinking about how nice it will be to have him back. But he won't be coming home 'til November and we just have to deal with it.

Real estate transfers

Quite a lot of that going on yesterday, with my county contributing to the land mass of the county northwest of us and the county southeast of us giving us a good bit of their ground in return. Sandstorm of major proportions, with winds in excess on 50MPH. Whole lot of dirt in the air, giving the sky an eerie, almost otherworldly look. A kind of amber haze that seemed like "High Plains smog." Would have been quite a sight from the air if you could have seen anything at all.

Rain, rain, glad to see ya, but...

We wanna come in now!

Our second day of rain, and dreary overcast skies. It was 37° this morning at 630AM and only 39° at noon. The roads to the wee towns south of me will be impassable by now. They become a morass with extended rain, defying even 4WD vehicles and experienced back-country drivers.

The dogs don't even want to stay outside very long. Just to tend to bizness and come right back in for some more couch time. A day of this is OK with Jack; two days become marginal; on the third day he becomes extremely anxious to get outside for some serious exercise. So far he is being very good. And patient. Emma is always good about this sort of thing and Mags, of course, being a little homebody, doesn't much care one or the other.

It's supposed to taper off tonight and give us a drying wind for the next few days. If that happens, then by Sunday or Monday the roads should be navigable once again.