It looked like it had seen better days but I figured with a bit of elbow grease and a re-seasoning, it could be as good as new again.

Here it is, ready for action. It’s just the perfect size for, say, [...]]]> A few weeks back we spotted this little guy at a local thrift store:

It looked like it had seen better days but I figured with a bit of elbow grease and a re-seasoning, it could be as good as new again.

Here it is, ready for action. It’s just the perfect size for, say, the makings of an egg sandwich. A lot handier than hauling out Bertha (our big cast iron pan) for just one egg or a handful of mushrooms.

I just about ran Joy out of the house with the seasoning process, though.

“Hey look, it’s that little dog. Wanna tackle her when she goes by?” “Sure”

“Ok, get ready, here she comes… [...]]]> The following drama was viewed from a patio chair earlier. It’s unfortunate that my camera doesn’t have video capture, so I couldn’t catch the butt-wiggle Calvin was doing when he crouched down stalking the ‘prey’.

“Hey look, it’s that little dog. Wanna tackle her when she goes by?”
“Sure”

“Ok, get ready, here she comes… on the count of three: one! two!…”

(Cricket wanders by)

“I thought you were gonna tackle her?”
“I thought you were.”
“Yeah, but then it just seemed like too much work. I can get her later when she tries to get a drink of water.”

I took Gwen to the ‘unofficial’ Hendersonville dog park today; it was her first trip there in many months, due to my worry that she would injure her bad knees playing rough with some of the larger dogs. I had instead been hiking and jogging with her near the [...]]]> …as in ‘like a naughty teenager’.

I took Gwen to the ‘unofficial’ Hendersonville dog park today; it was her first trip there in many months, due to my worry that she would injure her bad knees playing rough with some of the larger dogs. I had instead been hiking and jogging with her near the house, but then last month’s bad chest cold and accompanying acute bronchitis temporarily put the quits to that. While I slowly build my endurance back up, I thought that maybe I could take her back to the park and just be careful to do so at less crowded times, and leave if there are dogs present that like to body slam each other… she’s well socialized with other dogs, but she is still maturing and we wanted to keep that social contact going, for some future day when we might find a companion for her. So, today we went to the dog park.

Anyone familiar with this park, knows that it is fenced only on one side and bordered by creeks and railroad tracks on the other three. This makes somewhat of a barrier and hasn’t been a problem for Gwen in the past, her recall is was pretty good and she usually stays with whatever group she is playing with. Today, at first, was no different; she wrestled a bit with her friend Tasha, swam in the creek with a couple of Chow mixes, and floated like the social butterfly that she is between groups of dogs and their owners. And then suddenly… something in her genetic heritage fired up, a switch turned on. Gwen discovered what she believed was her Special Purpose.

At least, I guess, it wasn’t from mom’s side of the family. Having had Pit Bulls all my life before this, I’m well acquainted with the fact that there are some dogs who hit a certain age and (sometimes rather suddenly) become dog-aggressive.  Gwen apparently takes after ‘dad’ who was, according to Gwen’s appearance (and a DNA test) a Boykin Spaniel or mix of one. Gwen was bopping along having a good time and then all of a sudden, it was, like, ‘BIRDS! BIRDS! THEY’RE EVERYWHERE. OMG, BIRDS! And off she went.

The end result after a half hour of trying to get her out of the brush was me having to bushwack my way about twenty feet down the side of a steep riverbank through a heavy deadfall to retrieve (pun intended) my muddy, briar-entangled, wannabe bird dog. She had tracked her way back and forth across one corner of the field, apparently trying to catch a scent (or something, I have about zero knowledge of hunting dogs) which apparently led her deep into the bushes — and rendered her spontaneously deaf.  She was contemplating fording the creek to follow her nose into the marshy area on the other side when I snagged her collar, and she pranced her way out of the park, full of gleeful excitement and completely unremorseful.

I think that was the end of any off-lead adventures for Gwen for a while, at least until the fully fenced real dog park opens in Mills River.

Nothing like a large noisy bug suddenly emerging from an unknown hiding spot and whizzing around your head when you’re doing 70mph down I-75*. *The photo was taken later at a rest stop, not while I was driving.

It was dark when I got home so as far as I know, he’s still in [...]]]>

Nothing like a large noisy bug suddenly emerging from an unknown hiding spot and whizzing around your head when you’re doing 70mph down I-75*.

*The photo was taken later at a rest stop, not while I was driving.

It was dark when I got home so as far as I know, he’s still in the van somewhere. I think he stowed away at my last stop up near the the Tennessee/Kentucky border. Welcome to North Carolina, Mr. Stink Bug.

Update: The stink bug has now been evicted from my car and was last seen flying off over south Asheville. In the course of this, I also learned why they are called stink bugs. Apparently I tossed my coat on him at some point and scared him/pissed him off. As a result, my van now smells like skunk. The coat did too, until I washed it with about a quart of vinegar in the laundry water.  I’m hoping the van smell will dissipate on its own…

You don’t mind brushing your teeth in the bathtub, do you?