I still take pictures!

 I know the photo posts have been far and few between lately. Here's an update on what I've been snapping pictures of the last several weeks.

Emmie Lou and Miss Weenie are always available to help feed, sit on my camera bag, roll in dead things, and have their photo taken.

It has snowed a couple times. Here are our yearling heifers and coming three's heading in to feed one morning.

 

 

And, here is my sister's heifer on the same day after I fed her.

 I've done some cattle photography work for other people (yay!) including taking pictures of these heifers for a sale.

 My fiancee's marker cow.

 Feeding cows, SD style.

 Lots of wildlife out and about on this mild winter.

 

Feeding cows with little dogs

 My two little dogs LOVE to go feeding. The mere question of, "you guys ready to go feed," results in racing around the house, whining, jumping on you as you put your gear on, and shooting out the door like two hairy rockets when it finally opens. The same act begins again when we reach the pickup, and sometimes Miss Weenie has to run several circles, tail wagging profusely, until she calms down enough to stop and let me toss her the cab. Emmie can get in herself, thank you very much, through an opening roughly half her actual width.
What is so exciting about the prospect the feeding, you may wonder. Well, the highlight is when, upon nearing the feedgrounds, or a two track road we're going down that day, I stop, and let them out. Yes, that's what it takes to be the best master in the world : )
Their happiness and excitement is unmatched, and they leap, growl, and charge through the sagebrush, literally blowing off steam. After the initial rush wears off, about a mile in, serious sniffing, exploring and excavating ensues. It's almost more joy than they can handle at once.
This all may have something to do with me turning them loose into this:

Do you see Emmie?

 There she is. Chasing rabbits, climbing rocks,...

crawling in and out of holes, racing around...

 and investigating what Miss Weenie may have found.


You may wonder if there is anything that can ruin this. The answer is yes, and the worst part about feeding is when the excitement exceeds intelligence, and the return to the pickup is postponed...until after the cows arrive.

 This is especially troublesome if we're feeding the heifers, who love feeding not only for the food, but also for the chance to chase the hairy toys that I sometimes bring for their entertainment.

I bet there's a rabbit on the hill, laughing at the irony.

Miss Weenie

I have been a little slow to update you on my new dog. A few months ago, shortly after Pearl died, I found an ad for a six-month old female dachshund puppy for sale. The reason? She was killing chickens, and her owner's husband was very serious about his chickens. Now, to many this may be a sign of trouble, and a good reason to stay away. I immediately saw it as a sign of another potentially great dachshund (it's hard to explain if you haven't owned one).

I met the very nice owner of "Stretch," and ended up leaving with her. Since that day she has gone through a variety of trial names, and has settled into being Miss Weenie, officially. Her name is the female version of Mr. Weenie, from Open Season.

Weenie, as I usually call her, is certainly a dachshund. She loves life, kills mice with more efficiency than a cat, cuddles, sniffs and explores everything, and is a total individual. She enjoys going along feeding, is not about to take on any creature larger than herself, and can be seen ripping around the yard with a bone or eating her latest mouse kill (gross I know) at least once a day.

She has also developed her dachshund quirks. These include hating my father, and brother, and a long standing battle involving a few attempts at growling and barking, two things that aren't tolerated by the men of the house. She also has struggled, extensively, with the house training business. Perhaps it's due to the winter weather, perhaps her previous owners weren't overly strict in that area, perhaps she's just stubborn. After several months of dealing with this (she has been the hardest dog to house train I've ever owned) we are gaining serious ground. But, this morning there was yet another mess just after she had been outside. I grabbed her by her scruff, gave her the usual stern talking too, nose rubbing, etc... and packed her to the door and tossed her outside.

The result was a very uncommon howl of pain. Tonight she is hobbling around on three legs, packing one very swollen front leg, and has a vet appointment first thing in the morning.

I feel terrible.

But also hope that maybe this will at the very least permeate her thick German skull in the area of where her restroom is.

 Thankfully we are blessed with some good vets in our area. Case in point - I called and got him, at his office, on a Sunday, and set up the appointment for first thing in the morning. He gave me the pre-appointment directions so he can dive right into whatever he needs to do instead of me having to wait in town half the morning for that stuff. Emmie (you can read about her and my previous dachshund here), has been through a snake bite to the face, a grub in her cheek, a broken foot (not because of me), and a multitude of other minor and serious money costing vet visits to this same man. I like him, Emmie doesn't.

Emmie would also like to point out that being a pint size ranch dog is not for the faint of heart. You have to be quick, smart, entertaining in some way and somewhat obedient because men, and some women, are going to judge and discriminate against you based on your size, name, breed, and any number of other things. On top of that the livestock just don't take you seriously either. Wish Weenie luck on her first health related bump in her new world.

Pearl

My little dachshund, Pearl, died in an accident yesterday. She was only three years old or so. She was and incredibly unique, smart and fun dog, and I've spent more time with her than most people in the last few years.

She came back to Wyoming from New Mexico with me, and became a family favorite in no time. She hated birds, and could be seen daily barking and chasing them around the yard. She also loved to play with balls, and shred them to pieces. She had no fear, and dove into every situation full force. In the winter when she didn't want to get up and go outside she would hide her face under her blanket. She would put her paws on my feet when I was getting dressed to go somewhere and growl at me in an effort to keep me home. She would also put her little front paws on the couch and make her eyes look big and hopeful and wag her tail when she wanted cuddled.

Gosh I miss her. But, I also know that having her around for a few years was worth the pain of losing her.

I'm sure there will be another mini dachshund in my future. I just think they're the coolest dogs. But, not right now, and there will never be another Pearl

The Dynamic Duo

If you haven't met my dogs Emmie Lou and Pearl, you can read about each of them here.
It's been a while since I gave an update on my canine companions. They are digging being back home, and Emmie has especially come around from her stint in town (she was not a fan).

They've got their ears flipped back, hair matted with mud, grass and unmentionable materials, and have been right in the middle of all the spring and summer ranch work.

The grass is so tall in eastern Wyoming this year you can lose your toy Aussie in it, which Emmie thinks is a ball of fun.

So much fun that she will romp and jump through the grass, hiding and reappearing as Mister watches and tries to keep up.

Can't you just imagine her laughing at his inability to find her.

Off she goes again. This can go on all evening and keep them both entertained.

While branding, Pearl partook of the fresh rocky mountain oysters. Actually, overdosed would be a more accurate description.

Feeling the pain of too many oysters in a single sitting.

Trying to sleep it off...with no success.

Pearl also tried her act at making new friends, with my aunt, during branding this year. It was difficult for her, but I think my aunt crossed the bridge to non-demon (that's as close as non-family members get to being friends with Pearl) in Pearl's eyes.

Emmie supervised the building of the new corrals on our place.

She was also involved in the gathering of the yearling steers a couple times this spring. Pearl was off attempting to kill a bird, mouse or other rodent when I took this.

She had just finished killing several mice here, and considering her duties complete, settled in to guard the sunscreen (lay on that coat), also while we were fencing.

Easter

My Easter weekend was wonderful. Saturday morning Holly and I dyed eggs. Sunday morning we went to a daylight, outdoor Easter service, followed by breakfast at our church. Sunday afternoon Kyle (the Easter bunny) hid the eggs for Holly to find.


Holly liked dying eggs, but was very frustrated that the crayon didn't show up when she drew on the egg...


She had fun finding eggs around the yard, and ended up having some help too.


Lots of help, and the kind that required a little supervision so they didn't take all the eggs.


We finally worked out a negotiation, and Emmie and Pearl were allowed one cracked egg out of Holly's basket.


Which was a big hit, and allowed Holly to continue her egg hunt without some stiff, short-legged competition of the canine variety.


While Holly enjoys hunting Easter eggs, she is no where near as into it as Kyle and I were at her age. We would practice for days, hiding the eggs for each other. It often snows in Wyoming this time of year, and following an incident where we came up one egg short, in the house, following one of our practice runs, all egg hiding and hunting is strictly an outdoor activity at our place.


These two were just fine with that, and thoroughly enjoyed racing around the yard with their egg.


Then they ate it...and it was gooooood!




"There's another bit down here somewhere!"

While this was all great fun, and wonderful family time, we all know, and focus on the fact that the real reason we celebrate Easter is because it's when Jesus died, and rose again.
Our pastor said a great statement during the daylight service that went something like, "Jesus died that we may be forgiven, and he rose again and lives so that we may have reason to live."
That's the true reason to celebrate this amazing holiday!

The Dogs

I am sitting here, waiting for a heifer to get busy and calve, or settle down, and thought this would be a good time to update you on the happenings of Emmie and Pearl.


They have been busy, helping with feeding, calving, and everything else. This is where they're each typically located in the feed truck. Emmie particularly enjoys feeding, and happily climbs in with whomever is off to feed cake or hay on any given morning.



Pearl has been into everything, as usual, including walking into my pictures.



She is a great way to get cows and calves to perk up their ears and look though. Well...those that are awake.




She has that effect on Emmie too, who manages to look cute, even covered in mud, manure, and other things you don't want to know about.



They've also been eating things you don't want to know about.





By into everything, I mean Pearl is involved in everything. Here she is "helping" feed the heifers in the calving lot.




Just trucking along, ready to offer assistance if a stray bird should wander by and need killed, or a particularly sumptuous piece of calving related substance (after-birth) should need consumed, or a suspicious hole needs dug out.
While this is going on, Emmie prefers to just focus on eating calving related substances....just so you know what each one's preference is.





And, as a result of all this fine dining, tramping through mud, and smelling like they've been rubbing up against something that died last fall, they've also been spending some quality time on the porch at my parents...when they aren't sacked out by the pellet stove, reliving their earlier exploits.

Chasing Birds

My dogs are cheap entertainment. One prime example of this is Pearl's obsession with chasing birds. She is all about it, regardless of weather, geographical or physical obstacles.





See the little elusive buggers out in front of her?
This is a regular site at our house, and accompanied by vigorous barking. Last summer my mom said she could always tell where my dad was spraying weeds, because Pearl went with him and spent the entire time barking and chasing birds.




You will see her go streaking across the yard, first one way, then the other.




After each burst of chase, she will pause, and listen for where the sneaky birds are located.





Then off she goes again, full force.




Kyle says it's like watching a slinky stretch and contract.







If the birds are perched up high, on the tractor or in a tree, Pearl will perch on her hind legs and bark at them.





It's a very serious thing for her.





Emmie isn't as dedicated to bird chasing...