Cloudy Weather, and George the Guard Dog
The weather is unsettled and unpredictable these days, with sun, rain, wind, and snow, often all in the same day. Strange cloud formations scud up, down, and around the mountains, fog lies low on the fields, and the smoke from wood stoves sits above the houses in billowing cloud-like formations. The days are getting shorter as the winter equinox approaches, and the sun barely rises above the mountains.
George is the resident dog. He is a big, black, drooly dog, with very strong body odour. He has a wonderful way of saying hello to me - he always wants to touch my butt with his nose, which I guess is better than the old nose to the crotch dog trick.
George always wants to go for a walk. Even if its 10:00 p.m. and I'm just going out to get some firewood, he's ready to go. When we do go for a walk, he always finds a piece of firewood to carry, and he proudly carries his chosen piece down the road, butt wagging, head held high. George is not the smartest dog on the block. The other day, he almost got hit by a car, as he did the old 'chase the car' routine. He has this habit of running down the middle of the road, whether or not there's any cars coming, and I have to yell at him to get over to the side. A few times he has followed me half way to school - when I ride off, he sneaks through the woods so I can't see him, then I turn around, and there he is, running faithfully along behind me. Someone told me recently that big dogs just don't know when to stop running, so you have to be careful or they'll literally run themselves to death. Great! These days, I have to put him in the garage when I go out.
A dog is necessary where I'm living, because its bear country. When there's a bear around at night, the neighbourhood dogs keep up a conversation with each other, letting each other know what's going on. There'll be a bark in the distance, then another, then George will put in his little woof or two, without even getting off his carpet. Sometimes, he jumps up and dashes off the porch into the night, barking and howling all the way. I've looked out, hoping to catch sight of a bear out in the field, but never did see one this fall, which is fine with me.
The weather is unsettled and unpredictable these days, with sun, rain, wind, and snow, often all in the same day. Strange cloud formations scud up, down, and around the mountains, fog lies low on the fields, and the smoke from wood stoves sits above the houses in billowing cloud-like formations. The days are getting shorter as the winter equinox approaches, and the sun barely rises above the mountains.
George is the resident dog. He is a big, black, drooly dog, with very strong body odour. He has a wonderful way of saying hello to me - he always wants to touch my butt with his nose, which I guess is better than the old nose to the crotch dog trick.
George always wants to go for a walk. Even if its 10:00 p.m. and I'm just going out to get some firewood, he's ready to go. When we do go for a walk, he always finds a piece of firewood to carry, and he proudly carries his chosen piece down the road, butt wagging, head held high. George is not the smartest dog on the block. The other day, he almost got hit by a car, as he did the old 'chase the car' routine. He has this habit of running down the middle of the road, whether or not there's any cars coming, and I have to yell at him to get over to the side. A few times he has followed me half way to school - when I ride off, he sneaks through the woods so I can't see him, then I turn around, and there he is, running faithfully along behind me. Someone told me recently that big dogs just don't know when to stop running, so you have to be careful or they'll literally run themselves to death. Great! These days, I have to put him in the garage when I go out.
A dog is necessary where I'm living, because its bear country. When there's a bear around at night, the neighbourhood dogs keep up a conversation with each other, letting each other know what's going on. There'll be a bark in the distance, then another, then George will put in his little woof or two, without even getting off his carpet. Sometimes, he jumps up and dashes off the porch into the night, barking and howling all the way. I've looked out, hoping to catch sight of a bear out in the field, but never did see one this fall, which is fine with me.