Pee Little Thrigs and a Maldatian

Zoë was perched on the corner of the new stone wall by the front steps, Sphinx-like with her eyes wide and ears pitched slightly forward.

“What’s Zoë looking at?”

“I don’t know, but she sure is interested.”

We peered out into the twilight, seeing nothing, but hearing the crackle of the twigs and the crunch of the leaves in the duff. Zoë was obviously following something in the woods in front of the house - maybe it was somethings.

“Too early for Simon.”

“It’s probably the dogs that ran off when I went to the mailbox.”

“Dogs with an ‘s’?”

“Three, four, maybe more. Haven‘t seen them before.”

“Big?”

“Sortta.”

“Uh oh! Regular pack huh? Hope nobody’s in heat, Gryphon’s gonna be nutz.”

“Don’t think that’s it. Funny dogs … fat … well fed … there they are!”

I looked where “B” was pointing, in the margins along the upper driveway, There was a big black something, 2 smaller black somethings and a big white with black spots something. I started laughing, looked down at Gryphon who was on alert, but sitting beside me and said, “Those? Those are dogs? They’re pigs!”

“Nuh uh!” was the indignant reply and she grabbed the cultivator and marched off.

“Where’re you going?” I said, a little alarmed as she was brandishing her weapon up the drive. I followed after, hoping to prevent a Sus scrofian war.

“Redford’s one too many pigs for me … IF they are pigs!”

“B” stopped. I stopped. The pigs emerged from the junipers and they, too, stopped and stood their porcine ground - probably assessing whether or not we had food in our hands. The white pig with black spots snorted and grumbled.

“Look! It’s the pee little thrigs and a maldatian, out on holiday," I said, laughing. "They‘ll go home when they get hungry.”

“B” stamps her foot and the 4 pigs bolt back into the junipers. “No holiday in MY yard …” she mutters, then smiled and repeated, “pee little thrigs, my ass! What the hell is a maldatian … OH!” She punches my arm.

We walked back to the porch and sat with our drinks. She looked out into the trees beyond and, after a few reflective moments, said, “They did LOOK like dogs … didn’t they?”

I smiled and handed “B” her glasses.

Velvet Buck

I only get to see this boy on the weekends. He usually stops by around mid-morning for a drink and to graze whatever food the does and fawns have left behind. Always cautious. Always alert. He has, however, allowed our presence at the window or on the back deck - with some limits. I am grateful that he allows us this observation time.

Territory

The tendrils of the day’s heat wound their way upwards from the concrete of the porch and the rock of the walls. The air, tolerably cool in the wee hours of the morning, gave way to these malingering waves of heat that caught me by surprise with each wash of warmth. Gryphon lazily rolled over looking for a belly rub; one he was confident of obtaining and my hand found it way to the spots I‘d learned are his favorite “rub spots“, now an engrammic response to his indolent pleas. My mood was pensive, distracted and bellicose; the unrelenting heat and the remains of a pain reliever hangover from the previous week exaggerated my state of mind. Sleep had once again taken leave and though Gryphon was more than happy to have company, I knew that the start of the day would be a struggle - too late for a sleeping pill.

I slipped on my sandals and roused my lazy companion, convincing him (barely) to take a walk. He went on high alert in the dim light of the waning moon; stopping, sniffing, watching the myriad of night creatures, whose movements were beyond my dull human senses. Gryphon let out a snort and kept moving, a seeming “all clear” regarding his threat assessment. I was thinking that it would only be Redford (the feral hog) or something similar that would startle me in these now familiar acres. When we got to the road I saw a fox dart across, but the light was too dim for recognition. I missed Simon. We hadn’t seen him for several weeks. I thought about my attachment to these creatures that we share this space with and how utterly dull this would all be without their presence. I laughed a little thinking that they wouldn’t miss us much at all.

We approached our northern neighbor’s drive and another fox appeared at the roadside. I told Gryphon to sit and he reluctantly did and let out a small whine - I suspected recognition since the fox pass by his kennel fence during the day on their way to the water troughs - I wondered about the canines’ interaction during the day. The fox stood for a few moments before it turned toward our house, the moon reflecting on the fox’s coat and I could see that it was, in fact, Simon. Where had he been? I wondered. I did feel a sense of relief knowing he was ok. Simon had been the first to eat from my hand, but the aggressive deer and the witchy behavior of Samantha, the southern vixen, have kept him from approaching the deck anymore. He remains my favorite for inexplicable reasons and often he would nap just a few feet from me while I was sitting on the back deck. I suppose all things change. I looked up the rough drive of my neighbor’s and wondered if he was ever going to finish his house, thought of the change it would bring and hoped he would not, that he would continue to let the project sit idle.

We walked on and by the time we reached the next drive we had walked a quarter of a mile. A deer, one of the spikes, exploded across the drive and disappeared into the cedars. I was startled, Gryphon was startled and we stopped. I sat on the low, dry stacked rock wall at the neighbor’s entrance and Gryphon sniffed and anointed several spots along the wall - he’s done this many times on our morning walks. I suspect he thinks of it as “his” wall. I began to think of territory and how we humans mark ours. Our way is a complicated marking compared to the animal methods and I thought it would be nice if we could just pee on a spot and claim it. We, however, have to scrape, build, paint, landscape and put up a mail box to do the same thing. A little pee would certainly be simpler, but we seem to need concrete, gutters, perfume, Binks and bougainvillea to establish a place as ours. We are so complicated and yet so simple minded. I looked at my neighbor’s mailbox and suddenly felt like a trespasser. Gryphon marked another spot and we ambled back to the house.

When we arrived I flipped on the back deck lamp and there was Simon, waiting in his usual spot. I opened the door and tossed him a piece of bread. He studied it for a minute and then looked at me. I suppose he was just comfortable in “his” spot. I turned off the light and went to draw a bath, thinking that maybe Simon had been there all along - just not when I was awake. Sleep wasn’t going to come this night, but I relaxed in the knowledge that my friend was back and my mood began to lighten, as would the sky in another hour - another dawn, another day.

An unscheduled break

I know many of you have seen it or experienced the aftermath of the unloading of the Trojan … thus they pretend, but in the hollow side, selected numbers of their soldiers hide* … havoc, confusion, death and destruction! So it was that my faithful laptop companion slowed, vomited, choked and staggered into a death spiral of endless starts with only momentary flashes of the “blue screen of death”. Neon flashes of mindless complacency also appeared in my head, believing my firewall to be impenetrable - it had done its job so very well for several years.

I wonder how often we have to learn and re-learn the value of backing up these mind dumps? I had not run a backup for better than 2 months and I feared for my files on the little 2.5” vault. I just set it aside and installed a new hard drive and started all over again. I had forgotten how fast this little gray box can be without the encumbrances of all the little trail markers and bread crumbs we leave along the way - a fresh start - a new day.

Mostly I was just pissed off and didn’t WANT to take the time to fix something caused by someone else with too much time on their hands. I just walked away from the conflagration and busied myself with other things; thus my absence here for weeks. Fortunately it is all healed including the damaged drive (now rendered a slave) - the enemy vanquished. The imperiled files have been safely tucked away on disc and all is calm here at Casa Vulpini.

*Virgil's Aeneid

Muy Caliente

I had a post all prepared in my head – something about “Father’s Day” – that is, until I walked out of the office and met the wall of heat. All my thoughts just began to melt away and the coup de grâce was sliding into the seat of the truck and the thermometer reading 113 degrees in the shade. Day…ummm! The official temp was 107, but I happen to work in a geographical anomaly that is typically a heat trap and is 5-10 degrees hotter than the official temperature. My focus was then on getting home to let Gryphon out and into the cool of the house. I watched the temps fall as I climbed the escarpment and by the time I was home it was a respectable 104 degrees – my brain and the post slowly leaking away onto the sizzling asphalt. Gryphon was very glad to get into the house. Fortunately his “day house” only hit 81 that unbelievably hot day, so I think he was gladder to see me than escape the heat. I just wanted a beer and cold air!

Every day for a couple of weeks has been like this, full of good intention to work outside or write or work on a project and then the heat takes precedence as soon as I exit the building. I’ll still write the “Father’s Day” post, but Jimminy Louiseapoo my mind needs to solidify first!

I walked to the back of the house to check on the critters, who are usually gathering about the time I get off work. What I saw was Redford (the hog) wrapped around the #2 water tub. I have to say that I really felt sorry for him and his kin given the lack of natural water sources in the area. I watched for a while and soon he got up and stuck his whole head down in the water. I then unpacked the camera and by then he was in the #2 wash tub – first 2, then 4 wet cloven hooves. Yep! Packed pork in the tub and he stood there for a very long time. I would have never believed he would have fit his 250+ pounds in those confines, but he made it happen!

We’ve become hyper-aware of the need for water for these critters, as they will drain both birdbaths, a 3 gallon feed tub and the 15 gallon wash tub overnight. I see another tub happening this weekend. There is no natural source of water on the escarpment and the river below is quite a ways away. Fortunately most of the neighboring ranches maintain stock ponds and many of us here keep the water available; like my neighbor who keeps a 500-600 gallon tank full all the time. I’ve been amazed at the line of honey bees drinking around the rim of the birdbath in the back – sometimes 20-30 of them at a time.

Spring was too short and there wasn’t nearly enough rain during those months. I fear for our well this year and although we are sitting on the Edwards Aquifer, one of the most prolific artesian aquifers in the world, there isn’t an unlimited supply. We are watering only on a limited basis. We did get a little storm this morning, but it was only a half an inch all total.

I know many of you are being affected as well by these abnormal temps. Be safe! Be cool!

Dry!

Hot!

Dry and Hot!

Muy Caliente!!!

Is fall in the room???

If at first you don't succeed...

I'll just let Samantha entertain you ... add your own narration - surely there's some creative dialog in there ... mine's fled! :)

A return to Buffleopia

On February 13^th, 2005 we opened the gates to Buffleopia, home to the Bucolic Buffledog, a.k.a. Buffledog, a.k.a. Taylor and chronicled here at the Damp Dog. Over the course of time, most of you knew him as the Buffledog and for many of the readers here the name Buffledog has become synonymous with the Bernese Mountain Dog breed. After losing Taylor over 2 years ago I think my mind just retired the name as teams retire player’s numbers. To be quite frank, I didn’t think there would ever be another Buffledog. I stand corrected.

Gryphon is a very different dog than Taylor, but there are some very similar characteristics (aside from the obvious breed ones) that have given both of us pause. Perhaps it is because he is Taylor’s nephew - sired by Taylor's brother Sam. One of the most obvious and endearing common characteristics is the ability to look you in the eye with rapt attention; engaging in a silent and steady conversation – there is more going on in between those fluffy ears than we give them credit for having. There is the quick acceptance of new people that is so very similar, as those of you that got to meet Taylor will know exactly what I’m talking about. Sometimes it is very hard not to call Gryphon “Taylor”, as we have done more often than we probably should admit.

Gryphon does bring both exuberance and energy to Buffleopia that we sorely missed with Taylor because of his multiple orthopedic issues. Some days Gryphon is like an F-18 with its afterburners engaged and it remains an unexpected event when he bursts into this kind of speed play! There is also a steady calm that Gryphon can display and it is that calm that makes him an excellent candidate to train for a Delta certification. I had such good experiences taking Taylor to the retirement community that my dad lives in that we want to carry this kind of engagement to a more involved level locally. There is always a need for Delta dogs in the hospitals and elder care facilities. Gryphon has already enriched our lives in so many ways that it seems a shame not to share this with those who could benefit so greatly from such wonderful interaction.

The boy is also a master thief, a regular klepto-dog! A very stealthy klepto-dog! More than once we have been engaged with a movie or show and he busies himself by gathering up all our shoes, all his toys and all the cats' toys. Then he's emptying the laundry hamper and grabbing the towels from both the downstairs bathrooms as well as from the kitchen. All of these items will then be piled on his bed and at some point one of us will look up and there he will be, right in the middle of his feathered nest with a grin of satisfaction on his face. It is hard not to laugh at this Buffle-wuzzle. What a funny boy!

I was concerned about our wildlife population here at Vulpine Acres and how they would all react to Gryphon’s presence. Giving chase has not been an issue and he merely talks to them as only dogs can talk – deer, fox and, of course, cats. I was afraid that his scent or his spoor would scare some of them away, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. In fact, several of the fox and deer are becoming bolder and staying closer even when we are outside. He’s stood within 6 feet of Simon (the alpha male fox) and dropped into the play pose when he saw Buckwheat (the little male deer from last year – who is growing a pretty impressive rack this year) and Buckwheat just looked at him. All three cats have come to a place of acceptance with him with varying degrees of contact. The Vulpine Café remains open and busy and we are much relieved.

So the gates to Buffleopia have once again been opened and Buffleopia is certainly more populated. Though there may only be one Bucolic Buffledog, Gryphon is certainly a Buffledog of the first order. The connection between Gryphon and us was the right call by the breeder and we cannot thank her enough for both her gift and her insight. Let the social lubricity begin!

Well…they weren’t usin’ it!

I’ve had a lot of cats over the years, but not until now have I ever had a hydro-kitty. Izzy is fascinated with water and not idly so. First thing in the morning while I’m filling the coffee maker from the RO (reverse osmosis filter) tap, she wants me to turn on the main tap so she can sit in the sink and drink from it. Washing dishes, there is Izzy wanting to paw at the suds or the running water. Run a bath and she can hear the tub filling even if she's outside. If you are the bather then you are going to have company, usually perched on your chest - it matters not if her tail gets soaked. Shaving – there Izzy is, waiting on an invitation for her to play in the water. Filling the water containers for the animals – there Izzy is pawing at the stream from the hose. Somewhere during her construction, her hydrophobic gene went missing.

Yesterday I stepped out onto the deck and there was Izzy in the bird bath lying in about ½ inch of water. Granted, it was in the upper 90s and pretty humid. She stayed there a good 30 minutes until the Mockingbird took umbrage and ran her off.

Spring Parade

We thought about going off for the weekend, but the weather has been so perfect we decided instead to have a holiday with the critters and the projects. The weather is perfect (and L#we's had a 1/2 price sale on their plants) for yardening and projecting and we can settle in to the Indy 500 race this afternoon. It not a bad way to spend a holiday weekend and the only crowds and traffic we have to fight would be the critter parade through the backyard. We'll probably run up to Austin and take Gryphon to one of the many great dog parks there.

The following photos were all taken yesterday in the early morning light and all within about 30 minutes.

Remember Tiny Tim? Well we finally figured out that it's a Tiny Tina! She seems to be doing fairly well considering her damaged front leg. It's still hard to watch her walk, but she's hanging with the herd and seems to be OK with a good coat.

Simon waiting on his daily bread

Redford's got eyelashes (and budding tusk)! Perhaps his blond ambition? ;)

The wonders of the mud spa!

Mirror Mirror
"Hi! My name's Buck and this is my other brother Buck."

...at least the pig left us somethin'...

"Hi!"

"All right Mr. De Mille, I'm ready for my close-up,"

HAVE A HAPPY AND SAFE
MEMORIAL DAY!

MINE!!!

It was a weekend of errant errands, projects large and small and thunderstorms and I sit here amazed at all the things on the list that didn’t get done. I think back to Thursday night, to the list … er … lists, to the hope and promise that all would be done in 3 days. No problem and I still might have some time to read, play with Gryphon, visit the sphere and lay a few courses on the rock wall. HA! HA and HA! Murphy sat firmly on his throne built upon our misery, presiding over misbegotten plans and grinned! Grinned I tell you! The list of uncrossed items conspicuously outweighs the crossed off items. Amazing!

I suppose that many of us believe the weekends, especially the long ones, to be the nostrum for the grind of the week – I know that is what is in my head as the weekend approaches. Perhaps that was true in my youth when my batteries had and endless capacity to recharge. Now I wonder if it is that my expectations have expanded or my capacity to execute has diminished – perhaps it is both.

In all reality, Vulpine Manor has benefited from our labors (whether or not the list was completed) and already the list for next weekend has begun. There will be plenty of time for lounging as the weather comes into its summer scorch. Meanwhile the extra rain we are getting and the high humidity has caused exponential growth and cutting must happen lest we fall behind the jungle swell. Some of you might remember the insurmountable vegetation that we faced when we first moved here. I’m proud to say that we are far better off now and NEVER want to go back there again.

I’m yawning so I should claim my pillow. Speaking of claims, I’ll leave you with these:

MINE! ALL MINE!!!

MINE! (nectar wars)

These guys are fast! Even at a shutter speed of 1/400 they blur!

MINE! (Gryphon's fridge)
(too bad he's not happy here, huh?)

Mrs. Pot’s Magical, Mystical Tickle Emporium

Well, today we went over to ol’ Mrs. Pot’s pit to get hissed; though the pit was a field and the little hissers were … well …not “little” hissers at all!

“Mrs. Pot, is this the pit?” said me.

“Why yes it is, a pit to hiss,” said she.

“The boy, Mrs. Pot …,” said me.

“His name?” said she.

“Gryphon,” said me.

“Has he been hissed in the pit before?” said she.

“No hissing around,” said me.

“Sixty dollars,” said she.

“Uggg,” said me.

“Gryphon’s collar,” said she.

“I’m wearing THAT?!” said he.

“’twill but tickle,” said she.

“In the pit?” said me.

“In the pit and be hissed,” said she.

“The hissers?” said me

“Are three,” said she.

“The grass, the box and the bush,” said she.

“What that?” said he.

“A hisser,” said me.

“WHAT”S THAT?!?!?” said he.

“A tickle,” said she.

“DAMN!” said he.

“It worked,” said she.

“To the bush!” said she.

“Ok,” said he.

“Rattle hissssss,” said Three.

“NO WAY!” said he.

“Bravo!” said she.

“He passed?” said me.

“Grade A,” said she.

“I’m outtie,” said he.

“In the truck,” said me.

“A COOKIE!” said he.

So we left ol’ Mrs. Pot’s pit and her hissers three and went home to where we don’t have a Mrs. Pot or a pit to hiss in. Perhaps we never will. Should a hisser stop to hiss, without a pit, Gryphon now knows to “let it be, let it be, if there is a hisser, let it be!” (sorry John)

Note: snake awareness training is serious business in parts of the country (like ours) where hissers are about. The old adage of “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” sure applies here. Although I was loathe taking him to this training, it was certainly not as bad as I anticipated. I will have to admit that it was weird wandering around in the grass field where there was 1 Diamondback Rattler loose (rattling, agressive and sometimes within just a few feet), 1 rattler underneath a dead cedar bough (and rattling) and a Copperhead in a box. The vipers were all missing the venom glands but were fully functioning and healthy otherwise. Frankly I think the exposure in the viper emporium was as helpful to the bipeds as the canines – recognizing potential danger by sight and sound and also by observing the viper’s behavior. There were 20 dogs, more people, 3 vipers, lots of stories (both good and bad) that support the activity and I came away with a companion that KNOWS not to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Cirque Gryphon

Gryphon’s first days here have been phenomenal. He’s taken to the house, cats, critters and us. It has been an instant bond from the day I arrived at the breeder’s and he took to “B” immediately when he and I arrived home. One cat has become his “bud” and one is a bit hesitant, but doesn’t flee when he approaches. Izzy, on the other hand, cannot understand WHY we would let such a behemoth in HER house! She gets along with all the other critters, including Redford the pig, so I’m hoping that she’ll come around eventually. They will all come in to eat and sometimes sleep, but only Sox will grace us with her presence if he is in the house. It’s pretty entertaining watching him do the whole “play pose” with the cats and he’s been snagged more than once when he’s been a little over-exuberant. Puppies! He may be a year old, but he’s still very much a puppy!

He’s had no issues being in his kennel during the day (I suspect that he sleeps most of the day). He was a bit restless at night and we realized that he was used to having a crate to retreat into and has been fine at night since that purchase. Using a crate has been a huge change from how things were with Taylor. Taylor never liked the very idea of a crate, much less being in one, and was a model house dog, rousing only when the alarm went off. We have to keep reminding ourselves that Gryphon is used to having a dozen kennel mates and some of his restlessness is due to their absence. The second night we were on the road we stopped in Roswell, NM at the Comfort Inn. I was just about to crash and Gryphon uttered the first peep of the trip so far. He was whining from the bathroom and when I went to investigate I found him in front of the closet mirror talking/whining to the doggie-in-the-mirror. This had a potentially disastrous outcome so in a moment of divine inspiration I stripped the spread from the bed and draped it over the ironing board and set the whole affair in front of the mirror. The doggie-in-the-mirror went away and Gryphon settled down - good thing, because I was dead tired and we still had 10 hours driving to reach home.

The trip was like most road trips that you push through alone. It was mostly a drive on auto-pilot; although, this time I managed to remember to pick up several book CDs from the library before setting out. The books made the long miles easier, especially at night.

The straightest and fastest shot from home to Boise takes up a lot of off-freeway driving – more appealing to the eye, but leaves a lot to be desired as far as cell service – blue cell hell – and phone tag was rampant - I mostly just gave up the effort. It was disappointing as I’d hoped to catch up on a lot of calls that never seem to get made.

The most stressful part of the trip was the very first night. Dark had fallen hard while I was still on I-10 and I was already wary of the stretch north from Ft. Stockton to the New Mexico border. I had not seen another vehicle in a couple of hours. This lonely road is a lot of sage, oil wells and … well … nothing actually. There was, however, a proliferation of jack rabbits, horned owls, coyotes and deer. Proliferation is not an adequate word; abundant might be a better choice, but still doesn’t do it justice. The scene played out like a peripheral sidebar featuring a Steven King novel while I was listening to Sarah Dunant’s In the Company of the Courtesan – a very weird experience at best, with carnage both in the book and on the road. After a half dozen owls had flown up in front of the Explorer over the course of 10 miles I began to feel a little spooked by all the nocturnal hijinks and pulled off in the next picnic area to sleep till dawn – probably another 40 miles and many more owls and critters.

I got out to unkink and shake off the unsettling miles, looked up and was awestruck. What struck me in this very western part of Texas nothingness were the lack of light pollution and the amazing display of celestial light. There were no vehicles, no street lamps, no houses; just a lot of great, open dark punctuated only by the occasional and distant lamp from an oil rig. I lay back on the hood of the truck and stared off into the cosmos until sleep threatened to overtake me and I retreated to my pillow in the back. I went to sleep thinking there is just nothing like the crystalline sky of the desert.

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful, save the suicidal flood of bugs upon the windshield north of Salt Lake City. Best the awfulness happen there since driving through SLC is a trial all unto itself – it’s the one unavoidable traffic cesspool along I-15 from Spanish Fork to Tremonton that has the same effect on the psyche as fingernails on a chalk board. Sure, there are ways around it if one wants to add a day to the trip.

I spent a good bit of the time feeling like I was in a huge extended neighborhood, since I’ve run this route so often. I really don’t have to think where to turn, where the motels are, where the gas exits are as well as the restaurants. I’m sure truckers must feel this way. No thinking - pas de la pensée. There were long distances of some pretty spectacular scenery and often I would find myself absorbed in what seemed like an endless non sequitur - flashes of grandeur that had zero relation to the book I was listening to – comic and confusing sometimes. On the return I had the added comedy of Gryphon – my own canine Cirque du Soleil.

Gryphon’s home!!!!

…and he’s worth every bit of the 3400 miles, 4 travel days and 58 hours of driving. Gryphon traveled great! He seems happy, although the cats don’t - more on that and the trip in another post. Here are his 1st pics at his new casa and a view of and from his daytime air conditioned palace. NO! He's not spoiled ;)~

Gryphon's door!

Kennel is to the right in the above pic and I've partitioned off a third of the shop space for him

Gryphon's view

His name is …………………

... GRYPHON!!!!!!! Heart (and body) of a lion, wings of and eagle and is the protector. Here’s his photo at 8 weeks!

We are feverishly busy getting ready for his arrival – in between thunderstorms that seem to be threatening our sanity. Since the acreage here isn’t completely fenced yet (a work in progress that has only been completed around the pasture) we needed to provide a safe place for Gryphon to be during the day. So, we are building a huge kennel that abuts the shop and there’ll be a dog door to the interior that is air conditioned. The shop has been puppy-proofed with latches on all the cabinets and coverings on all the shelves – basically removing access to things that look chewable. Since he’s 11 months that is still an issue and it’s going to take a while to figure out his little canine interest. When we are home he’ll be with us, but during the day while we are working he’ll have his puppy palace – out of sight from the road.

Here is the site that I’m clearing for the kennel and the dog door will be through the wall of the shop beneath the window. What a lot of rock to dig out and what you are seeing is only a third of what’s been removed already! Sod will go down tomorrow and the kennel will go up tomorrow afternoon.

Meanwhile it is round after round of vet visits for the cats for their annuals, servicing the Explorer for the trip, getting the house ready for the new Buffledog! We are remembering about the infamous “tail sweep”, fur bunnies everywhere and simply space for him to move easily about. He probably won’t be quite as large as Taylor was; Taylor was 135+, but I don’t think Gryphon will be much more than 110-115.

So, I’ve stocked up on book tapes for the 3400 mile trip and I’m really looking forward to being away from the office for a few days. Fortunately it looks like great weather for the 5 or 6 days that I’m going to be on the road.

Soon there will be our own photos of the boy!

NOW…………..

You also get to meet Felix, our now frequent ring tailed cat. The shot is a little out of focus since the auto-focus was ineffective in the dark and I just had to guess at the distance – ‘twas a few feet short, but you get the idea. These little guys are just off-the-chart cute.

Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!

Waiting

bellman banter

"May I be of service, sir?"
"No, I'm waiting."
"On what, sir?"
"On who."
"Who, sir?"
"I'm not sure."
"I'm sorry, sir?"
"I'm not."

Seamus

It’s been two years today. I’ve been waiting.

I frankly have had little heart to be here. Perhaps it’s that I’ve been waiting.

I sit silently on the porch in the early morning hours; my hands warm around the coffee mug and watch our menagerie venture out into the wee first light. I often talk to the Buffledog in these lone moments – these were our times in the pre-dawn and we only missed our walks when one or the other of us was down with injury or sickness. These walks were magical, mysterious, sometimes guarded, sometimes filled with discovery and always full of greetings for our fellow early risers. I sometimes hear my neighbor walk his old Lab, but cannot see them on the road. I sit silently on the porch and wait.

The chores here are endless and often solitary. More than once I’ve turned, hoping to catch a glimpse of my friend and companion. I feel his presence. I wish I could feel his fur. Still I wait.

On what, sir?

On who.

April Fool’s Day. The phone rings and a familiar name pops up on the screen. I smile and answer, stepping outside to the building front and sit on the steps. We catch up as old friends do after a long absence. Then I listen for 10 minutes.

“Talk it over” she says, “and call me later this evening.” I already knew the answer.

His AKC name is Giorgio.

We haven’t named him yet – soon - he's all Buffledog though!!!

He’s 11 months old.

He’s gorgeous.

He’s a goofball … purrrrrrrrrfect!

He’s Taylor’s nephew.

I’m driving to Idaho on April 21st to pick him up.

I’m waiting, but I’m smiling.

Here’s his pic from 2 weeks ago.