Fuzzy Blogging on Friday

Posted on May 20, 2011 by Dayphoto

This is Boomer,

Fuzzy said I could have my say, Fuzzy is really cool. Just like Mom calls him, she calls him a Cool Dude.

I agree! Geezz he lets me do all sorts of stuff with him, we bark at the mailman, the UPS driver, the FedEx lady.

The fun part of living here is I get to do ‘stuff’. Fuzzy does stuff so I am learning to do all sorts of things.

We bark at birds. That is really fun. I get to jump HIGH when I bark at the birds; we chase them out to the alfalfa fields.

Of course the Swallows do NOT pay us any attention; they just keep on flying and eating all the flying bugs in the air. Now those Starlings….those sneaking things like to swoop, or hop or somehow sneak in and get our dry kibble. Fuzzy hates the kibble, but I like it. He says it tastes like sawdust, I don’t think so. I can taste all sorts of good things in the food.

Anyway, those Starlings are a little hard to manage, but we watch for them and we give the really good bark when we see them. You know the bark….loud and long. I do my really cool hoooooooooooooow and they fly off. Most of the time they have a kibble in their beaks but sometimes we scare them enough they drop the kibble! HEE HEE

Another cool thing I’m learning to do is ride in the back of the pickup. I know how to ride in a car….I sit real close to the driver and I stare straight ahead. I used to ride all the time. But Mom and Dad say I have to learn to ride in the back of the pickup because there isn’t room up front for them and us two dogs.

It was really scary right at first. I would jump out the moment I got in the back; gradually Mom figured out that if Fuzzy got in first then I would stay with Fuzzy. We are working on me not jumping out the second the truck stops. I am getting better at it…I really scared Mom one time because I jumped out at the sale barn. She was really mad at me for that. I guess I scared her real bad, so now I stay until she calls me and says I can get out. Boy is it ever hard to do. Fuzzy told me to sit still so we can go more often…but man there are so maaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnyyy cool things to look at and to smell!!!!

I’m staying because my choices are to either stay home (by myself) or be tied up in the back. (She does that when we are at the sale barn now). My goal is to ride like Fuzzy.

I’m practicing,

I really am.

Boomer for Fuzzy on Friday

Many Mountain Lions Roam the Area

Fuzzy Blogging on Friday

Posted on May 13, 2011 by Dayphoto

Today I thought I just might introduce you to Hank…the grandchildren— named him Hank the Cow dog. You know, after that famous Hank the Cow Dog of John R. Erickson fame.

But I’m here to tell you he is no Cow Dog. I’m a cow dog, born, bred and raised cow dog. I spent my first five years working cows, riding on hay wagons, and keeping coyotes out of the calf pens. Hank is No cow dog. I tried to tell them that the very first time he showed up on the place. (Just like every cat and dog on the farm he was a throw-away.)

I tried to tell them he is really a marshmallow, this dog is soft! Soft! Finally the family has started to see that and they call him Hanky-puff.

They better never hang something like that on me!!!

Huff!

PUFF?!?! Heavens I would die, if they ever called me a Puff!

Anyway, Hank really is a puff, he stays in the house 90% of the time playing with the kids, (Mom even laughs because they lay all over him like some sort of big pillow), eating the cats food, hanging out with the Mom-Mom always.

Me, I let the kids pet me, but that is about it. I’m a working dog and I want to keep it that way. I would never bite or hurt the kids in anyway. But they do have to, well, stay in their place.

Hank seems to always, I do mean a.l.w.a.y.s be hungry. That boy can put away sacks of cat food and dog food and anything else he can get his big white teeth on. Mom says that’s because he is a growing dog, he is just now a year old.

Boomer rather enjoys Hank showing up…which reminds me Hank never comes over (we are two fields away from his house) unless he comes with his people. Me—well, when Checkers was still alive I would trot down there and visit at least once maybe twice a day. I don’t go now either, just too hard on the old joints.

Anyway, back to Hank and his chowing down. Sometimes Mom gives us dry kibble. I much prefer the canned stuff, but she says dry as cardboard dust kibble is good for our teeth so we need to eat some of it too. I barely eat at it…blahhh, sure does taste…like sawdust. Boomer doesn’t care…he eats it. Says he is GLAD to have it. Heck Boomer is just plain glad to be here.

I usually just sort of munch at it, Boomer slicks his right off the bowl, even licks it clean.

Because I don’t really eat my food it means there is always food setting out when Hank shows up.

If I’m not paying attention he scarf’s the whole thing down and then heads off looking for any bones or something else he can eat. I swear that dog is a bottomless pit.

But, if I get there in enough time….I tell Hank he can go eat birdseed.

This bowl is mine. Then I hurriedly eat every last morsel because if I don’t….well you know what will happen.

Fuzzy

Sanders is Early Day Builder in Delta, Colorado

Fuzzy Blogging on Friday

Posted on May 6, 2011 by Dayphoto

For some reason I think I am the only dog with any real sense around here. Sure I’m old, I’ve lived here for 6 years, but I lived with my first master for around 5 years. I’ve blogged about that before. Enough said on that subject.

Anyway, I’ve lived here 6 years and I want you know that I love living here. All the food I want to eat, birds to bark at, Dad’s four-wheeler to run by (when I feel like running) and Mom to do all sorts of stuff with.

Well, sometime last winter, no wait was it last fall, hummm, maybe it was late last summer, our family acquired another dog. Now mind you, I really don’t like other dogs, I never encourage them to stay I put on my mean face and I snarl and snap at them. I refuse to share this cushy life I have with any other dog.

That was how it was until Boomer came. Boomer picked us. My folks found him out on the back 40 and took him to another place that wanted him clear down on the river about 6 miles away from us. Three days later Boomer was back sleeping in my dog house, full of porcupine quills and thin as a slat board. He looked at me, then at Mom and Dad, with this huge goofy Beagle grin of his and well….who could resist him?

Mom went down and got him his very own dog house and a soft and fluffy bed with snuggle blankets just like I have. Sometimes I take Boomer’s house and bed but he doesn’t mind he just takes mine. I do NOT share my dog food, I even show Boom my teeth every once in awhile, but he still just grins and goes on. I found out one day that my dish of food is an exact replica of Boomers. Geez, who would have thought?!

Also, Boomer is a city dog, he was never very far from wherever it was he lived, had the thinnest fur you have ever seen on a dog, knew nothing about farm living, had never seen a real live rabbit. Boomer told me that he had lots of stuffed toys, but they really never hopped and ran. (Who has ever heard of stuffed toys? Me I love squeaky rubbery things that do stuff like bounce and …wait I’m getting off the subject)

Just know that Boomer was a city dog through and through, he had a lot to learn and I and Mom and Dad have been opening up his horizons.

Anyway, this Farm Friday post is about this—-

The tractor and planter (that’s Sam, he thinks he runs the place)

Normally Dad parks the tractor in the shed and he put the planter away in its own special little spot that has a cover to keep the weather off the planters. But because Dad has been planting corn…I LOVE helping plant corn, well I used to love to plant corn. I would run beside the tractor as Dad headed toward the field he was going to plant and then I would wait at the end (by the water) of the field and snooze, or I would run around looking for rabbits or squirrels or other exciting things, then I would head home again with Dad when he was done.

I don’t do that so much anymore and since I don’t go out with Dad, Boomer doesn’t know how to do that. Gosh, in reality he is a really good dog, whatever I say goes. And he always has a goofy smile on his face. Who could ever get mad at that!?

Anyway, back to the story….last night was a really nice evening. Heck Boomer and I really liked it a lot so we didn’t go to bed when it got dark out. We just sat on the back step, well I sat on the back step and Boomer sat in the swinging chair we were just shoot’n the breeze talking about the day as the night got darker and darker and darker.

Now Dad, had not put the tractor and the planter away, he left it right where you see it. I don’t see as well as I used to so I really didn’t notice anything unusual, besides I knew that Dad parked his tractor there sometimes.

The lights went out in the house but Boom and I, we continued to sit there and chat, Boomer really likes me to tell him stories about my life so that was what we were doing… when Boom had to go relieve himself. Off he trotted in the same direction as the tractor WOOF! Boomer was baying up a storm, since I don’t see or hear right well anymore I thought I had better get out there and help him scare off whatever it was he was baying at.

Boy, did we put up a good bark. Woke up Mom who came out, turned the outside light on and walked all around with us looking for ….she was afraid that some critter was out there stalking her cat Sam. (Sam thinks he runs this place). So we all walked together, Mom and her flashlight and us with our tails wagging and Boomer doing an occasional bay or two.

Back at the porch Mom gave us both hugs and told us “Thanks for keeping everyone safe”, but that it looks like whatever it was is now gone.

Just as soon as Mom went in and turned out the light Boomer got all afraid again and started up that rack of baying. Back out came Mom, around we go again. Nothing!

This goes on for about 20 minutes. Finally Mom comes outside without turning the light on, walks to where Boomer is having a fit and realizes he is upset because the tractor is there.

Shish!

Well, many minutes later of sniffing and hanging out at the tractor and planter Mom talks to Boom about the tractor and gives us both a dog treat and heads back inside.

I went to bed. I was tired. All that barking (I helped) wore me out and Mom was a little miffed (although, I swear I saw her smiling and a chuckle escaped every now and again) as she walked Boomer around the tractor and planter.

I hear Boomer start in baying again. This time DAD got up. “SHUT UP BOOMER!”

Boomer went to bed after that. I asked him the next morning, why he felt like he had to keep on barking…he told me he thought they would bring out another dog cookie.

I told him… “I guess you carried it too far.”

He agreed.

Fuzzy

First White Child in Delta County