What’s Up Buttercup

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May 18 7

I hate buttercups so much, the creeping, invasive little suckers with their cheery yellow blossoms.  This year Dexter’s daily coconut oil is really helping him beat the buttercup rash, but he still has a big itchy strip down the center of his chest.

Fortunately, not everyone is allergic to them, and they do make for some adorable photos.

I mean, it really doesn’t get more adorable than this.

SOME dogs didn’t want to sit in amongst the buttercups, but wanted to be adorable anyway.

It’s been rainy the last several days, so I didn’t want to like on the ground for you this afternoon.  Instead I shot blind, with the camera held down to the ground and randomly shooting.  Still worked out pretty good!

Insanity is compelling from all kinds of angles, I guess.

Someone must have told Dexter that I entered him in Regionals, because as soon as I sent the payment, he forgot how to play agility again.  At class this week I threatened to stick my boot up his arse and fling him around the arena, as it would have been about as successful as just trying to run him like most people run their dogs.  WHY?  Why are his agility skills directly connected to my bank account??

It’s a darn good thing he’s cute!

Anyway, shooting from the ground was kind of fun.  It’s generally difficult to get a shot of Piper jumping because she doesn’t jump very high and she jumps really close to my face, so this one was happy for me, even though she looks like she screaming her frustrations to the skies.

Spring emulated Snoopy.

Winter.  So cute.

Winter has been doing so well on the Zylkene that he is probably ready to list for adoption.  I can’t imagine him without his doppelganger sister wife though; while the little monster drives me crazy, I’m having difficulty envisioning the pack without him.

We haven’t done too much this past week – working, running, trying to sleep with a cat on my neck etc.  Next week my stepdad and I will be building an addition to the hen house so that the new baby hens at work can come home :)

In the meantime, Spring would like to stare down her nose at you

because you don’t believe she can actually fly.

Hot Hot Hot!

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May 11 10

It’s hot.  And we love it.

We’re having a seasonally unusual hot stretch, in the upper 20s.  It’s been very sunny until today (though still hot!) so we are spending a lot of time hoarding Vitamin D in the great outdoors.  And the dogs are loving it.

ahhhhhhhhh.

Piper is loving it extra much because she had her 9 week post-op check up on Friday and Doc says everything is going swimmingly, and I am allowed to start increasing her exercise gradually, so short games of DumbBall are on the menu.

Piper could not believe her ears when I told her the good news.

But not Frisbee.  Tweed says he is now officially 13 years old and with age comes great respect, and he thinks everyone should respect his right to hoard the Frisbee.

The terriers are digging the outdoors time, with lots of zoomie terrier action happening.  Winter has decided that in order to be more aerodynamic his ears needed lifting, and he’s been carrying them this way for the past few days (whereas Spring can’t be bothered to get hers up).

However, the world is out to get the terriers!  First, I managed to bean Winter square in the mouth with a hockey ball on the up bounce. Then he was off in the neighbour’s field chasing Killdeer (they fly really low to the ground) and gleefully ignoring my demands for him to GETBACKHERERIGHTNOW! (with confidence comes bad behaviour, like EATING MY SHOES – which he does when I am present, not out of anxiety when left alone.  He’s having a second puppyhood on this Zylkene stuff) and wandered over to the dead end road and started following some people who he thought were me, but were not in fact me … what Auntie Fiona calls the “doggie version of grabbing the wrong mom hand.”  He had a minor panic over that, couldn’t figure out where home was and ended up racing through Stinky Ditch to get back to me as fast as possible, which ended in a Very Scary Bath.  (It has not, however, cured him of chasing Killdeer, who I think are nesting next door as they keep luring him away when he pops over Stink Ditch to go chase them.)  And Spring got run over by Dexter who was in full flight after his DumbBall.  I am amazed she is still alive.  Good thing terriers bounce.

I’m very excited because I have found someone who offers lure coursing in my neighboorhood, even to my lowly lurchers, so we are going to try it soon.  I think Spring and Winter will really like it.  I also think Wootie would really enjoy it, but he may be smoking too many drugs too really get into the athletic sports these days.

Not my Springaling though.  My girlie walks on air!

She’s magic!

Tweed can’t believe how high she can jump!

But mostly it looks so impressive because I am lying on the ground whilst taking those photos.  it makes her look like she is much higher in the air than she is.  Laying on the ground makes for neat perspective, you should try it.

Dexter looks dorky from just about any perspective.

Laying on the ground is always a bit of a crap shoot … it’s hard to throw the ball from a lying down position, and sometimes overtall smooth coated border collies land on your face when your aim is poor.  Sometimes you lay your ear down in dead worm, courtesy of Mr. Woo and his dig-em-up, shake-’em-to-’death’ and roll-in-’em routine, and sometimes spiders crawl on you at inopportune moments (bad, very bad).

But you get some cool shoots from down there, so for you, dear readers, I will lay among the dead worms and spiders whilst getting trampled by Kieren.  The things we do for love (a la Jamie Lannister).

The other danger, of course, is that when laying prone you are bound to get a Winter in the face.  He means well, for he is a very love-filled doggie, but he is physically insensitive (shocking for a terrier, no?) and after a Winterlove session I end up bruised and battered See me holding him back?).

I love you so hard!

After a love mauling, he is always very contrite.

But you cannot accept his apology, for if you do, he is so grateful that you have forgiven him that he starts the whole process all over again.

It’s sure nice to see him having fun in life though!

Speaking of “fun” … I bit the bullet, and entered Dexter in Regionals again this year.  What can I say?  I am a glutton for punishment.

Oooooh … you gonna regret that, Food Lady.

Shut up Tweed.

I’m already having the cold sweats just thinking about it.  When I try to imagine the outcome of this foolish expenditure of cash and self respect, all I see is this image:

Dear doG.  What have I done?  WHAT HAVE I DONE???

Sun God

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May 3 6

  For a dog that drives me CRAZY, he sure can take a zen photo.

 

But really … have you ever seen a happier looking Clydesdale dog in your life?

I’m pretty cheerful too.  Sun and warm weather make Food Lady happy!  The chickens are clean, the dogs are exercised, the laws are mowed (thank you lawn tractor!) and I’m supposed to be entering my dogs in Regionals … but instead I’m blogging while I debate entering Whacknut AKA Dexter.  Last night’s class was visited by plates-for-eyes-spinning-on-wheels-Dexter instead of the sane dog that was my partner for the last couple of months, so I’m having a crisis of confidence again.

I’ve been a very dedicated agility handler and every evening Dexter and I have been outside working on his weave pole entries at speed, at angles, at distance, close up etc.  And the third obstacle in the first course was weaves and he whipped past the entry, popped into them around pole #3, did two poles, SPROINGED in the air and sped pell mell back to me barking furiously.  *HATE*

On the other hand, practicing weaves is challenging in this crowd. (hah!  instead of typing “crowd” I initially accidentally typed “crud” which is funny on all kinds of levels)

(Just so nobody types a long comment about how I should really be practicing weaves with the other dogs put away … I do, actually :) )

And so, as I still cannot decide whether or not to enter the bat eared bastard, I’m procrastinating by:

Laughing at Wootie falling down whilst trying to catch his frisbee.

Imagining what Spring’s voice would sound like if she could swear at her brother in English.

(Mildly) scolding Piper for trying to play frisbee before her 9 week post-op check up (I hope it goes well, and she can start running again!)

Wondering how chickens know which eggs are theirs.  I have no accompanying photo for this, I’m just curious.  So like, I have this one hen that has gone all broody, so I decided to let her have 6 eggs to sit on rather than eat them, just to see if they will hatch.  After all, both roosters are horny enough, they must be fertile.  I wrote the date on them (eggs, not roosters) so I can tell them apart from the daily collected eggs.  Today when I went into the hen house to clean, broody hen was sitting on her clutch of eggs OUTSIDE the nest box, while some other asshole trying-to-be-broody hen was in the box on a whole new batch of eggs.  All the numbered eggs were out on the floor (and there is a lip on the box).  AND fake-broody hen pecked the hell out of me when I tried to get her out of the box.  Chickens are assholes!

Anyway, maybe in 3 weeks we will have new baby chickens!  Although at this rate, my chicken collection is in danger of spiraling out of control … I have 9 three week old Black Cooper Marans at work waiting to come home when old enough.

But I don’t want to sit inside blogging all evening – there are still several more hours of fun left to enjoy!  And Kieren says he is ready to rumble again.

And so is Winter! (My favourite thing about this photo is how his little spotty feet are in perfect focus)

Oh and speaking of Winter … the little pee monster has been on Zylkene for just over a week.  The house soiling stopped within 24 hours of starting the supplement!  He is officially belly band-free.  And he has started rough housing with me without shrieking like I am about to beat him to death.  Colour me impressed!

And I have to go run on my treadmill, as unlike my svelte, athletic dogs, I’m a veritable butter ball these days.  While I flail and gasp on the stupid treadmill, I shall try to compose something poignant and tear-inducing for Tweed’s 13th birthday post in just 3 days.  Thirteen!  Holy doG.

Enjoy the super hot, sunny weekend friends!

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