*I’m a full-time horse trainer who has written about horses (here) since 2010. My dogs think it’s their turn now.* I try never to step outside of myself and take too long a look at what I’m doing. It’s how I maintain my self-respect in the moment. Of course, then I blow it by writing … Read more
And by “bar,” I mean the Swedish Vallhund Nationals. We didn’t tell Mister. I packed up the Rollin’ Rancho out of view, closed the curtains, and Jolene and I pulled out just as if we were going to a class. We drove two hours north to Greeley and joined the Vallhund family camp. Over 1600 … Read more
I’m doing it again. Pretending to be Jane Goodall… you know, if she got a herd of sheep. I was born this way, to the dismay of those who thought daydreaming about animals was an immature waste of time. I guess I showed them, still doing it on the far side of seventy. Jane Goodall … Read more
Mister, who is the voice of conservative reason and common sense, looks me in the eye. What starts as socializing a puppy quietly becomes a habit, and before you know it, you are slipping off to classes and then to dog trials. You wind up driving hours for herding lessons. You end up with ducklings … Read more
I wasn’t thinking, really. The car was packed the night before. I got dressed while Jolene walked me, room to room on my heel. She will Not. Be. Left. Mister would like you to know doing anything at the crap of dawn is not civilized. He was taking his nap after breakfast. He barely woke … Read more
Mister is trying out his new self-appointed position of Joy Police. Someone has got to put a stop to this chaos. This girl dog is relentless. It’s all the endless zooming and dawn bitey-face and tug whenever there is a loose end. Just when he thinks he might catch a nap, she climbs in … Read more
I didn’t know whether I should mention this. Is it too private to share? For questions of social etiquette, I defer to Mister. He has better manners than any of us. He ponders the question. Looks at her dragging a dog bed out the back door, and says Yeah, go ahead. Jolene’s an extrovert. She … Read more
The leftovers are gone, the pie plates back in the cupboard, and Parental Peas, Parker and Penny, have headed back to Texas. If you ask Jolene, it’s tragic news. She would’ve been fine if they had stayed forever. They spoke her language. They played her games. We took a hike while the Peas were here. … Read more
Remember that Thanksgiving painting by Norman Rockwell? With a jovial white-bread family leaning into frame with smiling, delighted faces? A woman wearing an apron is placing a turkey on the table while the man standing behind her looks like your favorite grandpa. It was completed in 1943, and FDR was president. The painting is called … Read more
It was a bathroom sort of week here, in that way that the entire universe can fit in a small space sometimes. And Jolene ran the gamut of emotions about it. She is almost nine months old and a very big girl with very big feelings. It used to be that a small plush toy … Read more