I walk Betsy & the Chihuahuas down to the pond. Yorkie Grace is in my pocket.
Oh, my. The Chihuahuas start barking like little the shits that they are. Down in the water are 2 Egrets. Very tall white birds with a huge wing span. The male is winging w/o flight. Its a threatening behavior.
I told the Yappers to zip it. I like to watch these birds. We only see a few per year. We’re on the northern edge of their stomping grounds.
Beautiful birds.
I walk on the Yappers will not stand down.
So off we go into the wooded trails. The trails have been cut for years. But, without kids traipsing thru they are slightly grown up.
I need to tell Big Wrek to go down them with the tractor. Because I saw a snake on the water.
--------sittin’ on the dock of the pond--------
I gather the dogs up and all my accoutrements and head out. I’m not feeling it. Not my perky self today. We get to the pond and walk out on the dock.
I unhook leashes. Betsy’s gone. Her nose has a trail. The Yappers and the Yorkie stay on the dock with me and I sit down there. I have to watch the Yorkie she has no sense of an edge being a stopping place. She’d drop right in the drink and sink.
I whistle off and on and Betsy yodels back.
I sit and bask for awhile.
Ugh!
The Yappers are yapping at a decibel I can’t ignore. I open my eyes and they are on the edge looking down in the water, barking their fool heads off. I put the Yorkie in my pocket and schooch over and look. Big Ol’Turtle. Well, crap. Basking is over.
I hook them up and we walk out on the levee so I can whistle Betsy up.
She comes running with her tail tucked and passes right by me straight to the house. Doesn’t stop or look back. She gone!!
Something spooked her.
I’m beginning to think she has conspiracy theories like Son-of-a-wrek.
Early, up and walking. I missed hitting my stride yesterday.
Betsy’s off leash and running a scent. I think the Chihuahuas would do better off leash. Their leash is a contraption thingy that has two separate hooks but one handle with an extension. It’s a PITA. Continually tangling up.
I’m not sure if they’ll follow me or chase after Betsy.
So, I unhook them. Confusion. They don’t know what to do. I make a clicky sound with my tongue and call their names. I see a light go on. They follow me. These dogs aren’t as dumb as I thought they were.
We’re walking at a steady clip when Betsy gets back around to me. I look back and I have a dog parade coming up behind me. Everyone’s tongues are out.
I’m suitably proud of my brilliance. Up and until Betsy gets a new scent. Off she goes, 2 Chihuahuas after her. Uh-oh.
I whistled, Betsy yodels, 2 Chihuahuas yap.
I whistled, Betsy yodels, 2 Chihuahuas yap.
And, again…
Well, I never…
If Bigtoe catches them he’ll have a 3 nugget lunch (well, 3-1/2, Betsy’s fat)
Betsy leads her pack back to me before we get to the driveway (the last leg). I hook them up and we headed to the house.
I’ve been telling people this for years “Never underestimate a chihuahua”. Beck, you have two potential hellhounds at your disposal right now, but years of institutional specie-ism against them has taught them to never reveal their real attributes. And Betsy will never tell what they did while off leash and out of sight. Train ‘em Beck, teach them to let go and revel in their ancestral wolf and then let slip the chihuahuas of war against ol’ Big Toe.
No, I will not admit to being attacked by a ravening dire chihuahua as a small child. Why would you even think such a silly thing?
SCal news often reports when bears get bored with wilderness and venture into housing developments. They snack from trash cans, sniff around pet food, and very often take a cool refreshing dip in private swimming pools. People record these invasions on their security cameras, and send the recordings to the TV stations.
The best security cam recording is when a bear DARED to set a huge fuzzy paw into the back yard territory of a small yappy dog.
Well!
The yappy dog, true to form, yapped its fool face off, giving that old bear a very thorough “what for.” The dog kept moving, kept circling, kept yapping…and the bear made the executive decision to just leave.
Mid-daughter has decided I’ve ruint her Chihuahuas. She says they’re not meant to be ‘hunting’, (how gauche,::::sigh::::)dogs.
She said they smelled bad and had dirty feet and stomachs.
I pointed to the dog crate where 2 Chihuahuas slept, therefore NOT barking, pooping, biting, chasing and otherwise causing chaos.
I told Mid-daughter to top that.
Score card: beck-1 Big-Toe sighting. 4 toe prints in redclay mud. Possible book & movie deal. Noises in the dark. Big Wrek, zilch.
**Son-of-a-wrek ** a few unprovable conspiracy theories.
**Mid-daughter **, no leg to stand on.
------------Mom’s day, Monsters and Mundane meanderings----------
Nice, low-humidity beautiful day in S.Arkansaw.
Son-of-a-wrek is heading up the meal prep, he and his hench-sous-chefs are doing a Crawdad boil. That’s Mud bugs, potatoes, corn, onions all cooked in the same boil. A few side dishes. I made peach cobblers for my addition to the meal.
I got a Tulip Tree for a gift. Me and the grandwreks presented the Moms with their homemade cards. Success!
This morning before the festivities started I walked the hounds. I got out on the trails and unleashed the hounds to go find me a Bigfoot.
Betsy took off to my right and Chihuahuas were right on her heels. I watched them actually put their noses on the ground. Betsy is a good pack leader. I can tell she’s having a blast by hearing her yodelling. The Yappers are yapping now and again.
When Betsy gets back around to me and I send her off again, the Yappers get back and as soon as they hear Betsy off the go again.
Man this is the life. I sat down on a boulder and put the Yorkie on the ground to play. She runs around in circles when she hears the other dogs. Making her little yip-yip.
I just enjoying the heck out of this. I put my face to the sun.
Oh no! What’s this?
I open my eyes. 4 trees are touching at the top. Right above my head. I scan around. The trees are not broken, like dead fall. They are live trees that are bent together at the top.
WTH?
I’m sitting in a ‘built’ pyramid. Something or Someone but this. Right above this very prominent boulder.
I gotta get away from here. I grab up the Yorkie and move about 20ft away. I study the oddity more. Walk all the way around. I see marks on the ground at the trunk of each tree. There had been activity beside each. Eerie.
I havn’t heard the dogs in a few. I whistle Betsy answers and the Yappers yap. Yorkie yips from my pocket.
Okay. I see how it is.
Someone is screwing with me.
--------eerie, early morning explorations around the pond--------
As soon as it was light me and the yap-pack got out side. I didn’t even hook the Chihuahuas up. They stay right by my heels.
It amazing how fast they’ve acclimated to the country life. Beagle Betsy was pulling me fast she wanted to run a trail. As soon as I unhooked her she had rockets in her pockets. Two Yappers on her tail.
I just strolled along listening for their yaps when I whistled.
Yorkie Grace is restless in my pocket. I got her out and on the ground. She automatically goes the wrong way. I toed her the right way and she follows for about 2 min. She stopped and pottied. Walks a few more yards and again is going the wrong way. She is just so dumb. Poor thing. I keep calling and clicking my tongue and she gets turned around toward me and runs in her goofy way. Back in the pocket. She’ll sleep now. That’s the extent of her excercise needs.
I havn’t heard a yodel for a few minutes. I whistle and I hear brush breaking on my right. Two muddy Chihuahuas come to me. No Betsy. I whistle again and she answers. The Yappers take off.
Mid-daughter is gonna kill me. Those dogs were head to toe, muddy.
Betsy’s not yodelling much this morning. I keep whistling.
I keep hearing things moving in the underbrush to my right. The creek is down that way. I assume lots of small wildlife avail themselves of the water there. It’s a lot more protected than the pond.
I don’t like the idea that feral pigs may be close. I’m not smelling them. So that’s good.
I’m getting up to the top of the rise. I see Betsy head for underbrush again. She never slows down she flies into that thick brush. She’s not exactly a subtle hunter. The Yappers on her heels.
I stopped on the rise and wait a bit. I need them to follow me down to the last leg, the driveway.
On top here, I can see what I think is a game trail. It’s well worn down. Something big goes through there.
I’m gonna walk that trail next time I’m out here. To look for tracks and sign.
Yep. Jim Bridger and Kit Carson ain’t got nothin’ on me!
O’pioneer Beck is hot on the trail of ‘whichever’ she finds.
I whistle the dogs in. We hook-up and walk down the driveway to the house.
I gotta wash these dogs when we get there.
Wonder about the trees, does it look like it happened a long time ago [the bending] and the activity has been going on since?
And I love your stories =) If you ever have a dope fest and we are wandering westwards to visit cousins of mrAru’s in Missouri, we have got to attend =)
I’ve sent Son-of-a-wrek to look at the trees. The boulder is a famous landmark on our property. The kids have all signed it. Now the grandkids names are on there. We call it our version of the ‘family bible’
Son, was not so convinced it was built. But he agrees it looks like there’s been activity at the base of the trees.
He found a place close to it where it looks like something had been laying. All the undergrowth was tamped down.
When I walk this afternoon I’m gonna look for it. I’m afraid to wander that far in the mornings. I know wildlife is more active in the early hours.
I continue to hear odd animal noises at night. I wait til the house is quiet and slip out on the deck and listen. The noises I hear are non-descript and I’m not sure how far away they are.
I’ve gotten Son interested in coming and listening. He has plans to do it, when his work settles down.
Of course, the rest of the family think we’re bonkers.
ETA, if there ever is a Dopefest down here I’ll be sure to let you know.
