Because there are some weeks that need to end on a happy note.
Ivy, Clara and I were in a car accident this week. We will all be alright, nothing but bad bruises and the only thing that won’t bounce back is the truck. Thanks to everyone who has helped us so much the last few days, life would be harder if we weren’t surrounded by such great people!
I’ve been called crazy.
Twice.
Today.
But this tiny guy is only a visitor.
Besides, how could I turn him down when he, clearly, fits in so well?
His name is Jasper and after our stellar first day of puppy sitting I suspect you’ll be seeing him again!
Life, always better with a good dog at your feet.
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My brother and I sat on the tailgate of the truck as we waited for our parents to hike out of their field. Laughing and talking, sharing a drink and pulling burrs out of the dogs. Enjoying the day’s end as the sun sank until everything glowed in it’s own halo of light.
Discerning readers may notice I shared this picture once before, in color, but as one of my favorites from the Montana trip I couldn’t resist fiddling with it again.
I think it’s better in black and white, how about you?
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Sometimes they are fantastic… 
…and sometimes not…
… but whether they are done for the day…
… or still on the hunt …
…it wouldn’t be my kind of hunting without them.
This picture is blown out but I had to use it anyway. My first three bird limit with a pile of my favorite dogs- photography be damned, it was a good day!
This is Turk.
Turk, otherwise known as Turkey, or Mr. Impressive if you want to get all official about it, is my brother’s dog. In the past few years Turk has been joined in the field by his two half brothers. Trip (my dog) and Sunday, a.k.a. Weasel (also my brother’s dog) and the three of them are amazing.
I could wax poetic on how, when they hunt together, they truly hunt together. Working with each other, blocking birds, covering the field all the while looking like the handsomest trio of pups you’ve ever seen. But those of you who are bird hunters with dogs of your own probably won’t believe me (because, obviously, your dogs are better). And those of you who aren’t won’t fully comprehend the awesomeness that I’m trying to convey so I won’t. I’ll just stick with amazing.
These dogs are amazing.
One field, three awesome dogs and a limit of pheasants for everyone including my mom the picture taker.
Turk is getting up in years, he’ll be 9 come spring, which means that sadly his experience in the field is getting tempered by his stamina. Fortunately, he has the young boys, four year old litter-mates, that he’s training up. And yes, I say he’s training them up. My brother and I, we try to help, but Turk is the one pulling the real weight.
Early in our week of Montana hunting the three boys would swarm the field together. Often Turk was the steadying presence for the young dogs as they pinned down a bird. But by the end of the week he was tired, trotting rather than running through the grass. Occasionally, stopping and staring into whatever likely cover we were passing by as if to say, “Hey boys! Get in there!”And the youngsters did. He had taken over as general manager of our little pack of dogs.
But Turk wasn’t completely out of gas. He was just an experienced dog conserving it for when it counted.
Near the end of the week my brother shot a sharp-tailed grouse. Off it flew over the crest of a hill, running out of steam and going down. Right behind it flew the dogs. Sunday, Turk and Trip lined up and running all out for the retrieve. They were, as I have said, a beautiful sight. And then, as we watched, Turk kicked it into high gear. Always the champion of the long distance retrieve, he was not about to be outdone by those young upstarts. And the dog that had been trotting about lengthened his stride and started gaining on Sunday as they crested the hill and disappeared out of sight.
My brother and I looked at each other and laughed. 
Of course it was Turk who came back over the hill, mouth full of feathers, with a look in his eye for the youngsters as if to say, “This is how it’s done.”
I’m dog sitting.
Can we keep her?!?
Most of you probably dog sit one dog at a time, perhaps two.
“We’re here!”
I’ve got three extras. With Digby in the mix I suspect we are talking at least 200 extra pounds of dog.
Fortunately, I love dogs!
And, for the most part, adding three dogs to our house with it’s fenced in yard, extra land to run on and dog proof basement for muddy dogs to dry their feet in, is no big deal.
I tried to get a picture of all five running…
It’s true that there is no longer any room for humans on the couches, that it would be unwise to drop any food related item you’d like back (Yes, I’m talking forks, napkins and donuts here) and letting dogs in and out of the house could be considered my new full time job, but in general, we’ve got a good dog house.
The issue with adding dogs to the household is the excitement factor.
Two dogs get excited in the house and you roll your eyes and kick them out the backdoor to play. Five dogs get excited and you wonder why the National Weather Service didn’t announce the tornado that has just so obviously hit the place as you wade to the door, feet getting trampled and try to make sense of it all.
For a not so hypothetical example, let’s say one dog looks through the window on the door and sees the neighbors’ cat calmly sitting on the sidewalk. The one dog does nothing more than what amounts to a giant doggy intake of breath before you are on top of the situation, closing the door and squashing the dog’s enthusiasm. But it’s too late, the house full of dog has already exploded with excitement. (The cat, of course, just sits there watching and listening because cats are a bit jerky like that.)
This is all very dramatic and annoying.
But when told they are being silly by the human in charge, (that’d be me) it doesn’t take long for everyone (and yes, by everyone I mean the dogs) to settle back into their spots and chill out again.
However what I discovered is that it is really, truly terrible if you excite a pack of dogs in the middle of the night.
At three AM I woke screaming from a nightmare and the dogs responded in kind.
Immediately, loudly and frantically.
I was the only adult in the house and I was a completely confused, adrenaline filled, scared witless for no apparent reason adult. Which is normal for waking up from a scream inducing nightmare, but not the best mindset for quieting a pack of dogs in the middle of the night.
It took me three laps around the house to even realize what end was up and why all the ruckus was happening. And then I just went back to bed – because it was three AM. But a pack of excited dogs doesn’t just, “go back to bed.” So for the next hour the dogs took turns standing guard over the house. I know this because for the next hour the dogs took turns “woofing” that soft menacing “woof” that precedes a pack of dogs going on high alert. And the house would once more erupt into a mess of barking, pacing dogs.
It was not a restful night.
On the plus side, I feel fairly secure saying that you might not want to mess with me -I’ve got the dogs on my side, and there’s a lot of them!
There is a thing that happens once you own a dog. Not your parents’ dog, or your kids’ dog, or your spouse’s dog but your very own dog. Suddenly, regardless of what you have ever said – or will say – about someone else’s dog, you know, in your heart of hearts (or right in everyone’s face, depending on how you play it) that your dog is, and will always be, the best.
Your dog is perfect.
Sure, they may have a few inconvenient habits like rolling in dead animals, digging holes that reach to China and barfing up socks on the living room rug at two AM. But they are so fantastic in all other areas that there is no reason whatsoever to dwell on the little annoyances that, really, if we are all being honest here, come with all dogs.
Being a dog owner with a perfect dog myself, I can tell you that there is nothing better than being handed an opportunity to lay out just exactly why your dog is better than someone else’s.
In a group of people that know neither Storm (John’s dog) nor Trip (my dog AKA Most Amazing Dog in the World), it happened to come up in conversation that Storm had an irritating and ridiculous habit of staring up at squirrels in trees and barking at them.
Bark, Bark, Bark! Come down so I can eat you squirrel! Bark, Bark, Bark!
It’s possible that I may have expressed some scorn on the effectiveness of this behavior when I was asked what my dog did that was so much better.
A chance to expound on the fantastic-ness of my dog compared to others!?! Bliss, utter dog owning bliss. I dove right in.
My dog (The Smartest Dog in the Solar System) sits quietly in the house at an upstairs window watching the bird feeders. Once he sees a squirrel come to a feeder he runs down the stairs, gently rings the bells to go outside and waits patiently for me to come. I open the door as quietly as possible and when it’s wide enough for him to get through, he tears off across the yard. If it’s a quiet exit from the house the squirrel will see him coming once he is about half way there and the race is on! The finish line is the maple at the back of the yard and while squirrels climb fast, my dog (The Best Jumper in the Universe) has some ups that have earned him a mouthful of fur at least once. Then Trip trots back to the house, asks to come back inside and resumes his post upstairs. Or, if it’s a nice sunny day, he (The Most Patient Being In Our Household) sits like a statue near the backdoor until the birds and squirrels feel it’s safe to come back out.
Good things come to those who wait.
As my story ended I realized I seemed to be surrounded by non-dog owners. All their nodding faces seemed to say, “Why yes, your dog is fantastic and smart as well.” If only I had had a picture of him along, I’m sure they would have waxed poetic on his handsomeness too.
However if they had owned a perfect dog of their own, as some of you do, there would have been nods that said “Yup, knew it all along, that dog sounds alright but mine is better. Mmmm hmmm.”
But, fellow perfect dog owners, now’s your chance, I’m asking you. How awesome is your dog?
Give your day a little pick me up and expound away!
(Don’t look so worried Trip, I’ll still think you’re the most fabulous dog of all!)
Digby says it’s cold today.
Cold enough to freeze drool.
Poor Digby.
Behind the Willows 
