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Woo – Who is that over there?
A cousin and his bodyguard
We did not go meet them. Our cousin had a ferocious bodyguard, sort of like Huffle has Bazza except that this bodyguard actually made lots of noise and told us to go away. I mean, Huff, where was Bazza during the attack of the heater incident, huh? Anyway, our cousin was wooing for us to come play, but the other guy seemed much less interested in our visit.
We went on our early morning hike and it was already hot and humid – yuck!
Yesterday, our humans drove down into Ozzie territory – we went to the Mall of Georgia. Now, our humans really do not go to malls very often, partially because there aren’t any in our town and we have to go to Asheville. But also because there is not a lot in them that they enjoy. But this one has an Apple store and our hu-dad wanted to get some stuff there. He came out and said he had fun, but then groaned about a lighter wallet. Wouldn’t it be better to carry something that is lighter? They came out with bags, but there was nothing in there of interest to us. Not even any apples. What kind of store is that?
We did have fun though. Our humans left the S-RV with the generator and air-conditioning running so that we could maintain Siberian temperatures. A security guard left a note on the S-RV saying that we could not park an oversize vehicle in the mall parking lot. But apparently we convinced him that it was ok since we pointed out that there were no other vehicles parked within a hundred of yards of the S-RV since our humans park at the far end of the parking lot.
And that is our plan for today. Well, the air conditioning part. Can’t speak to whether we will visit more apples or security guards.
P.S. – We tried to get Qannik to pose beside the Dalmatian, but he was scared of it. If you are confused by that, please see this YouTube video. We expect Bricey has something to say about this.
Much hotter down here at Lake Hartwell State Park than it is at our house in Maggie Valley, so we are doing our hikes early in the morning and after sunset. Since we needed to get our walk done before the heat set in, we were very serious and focused.
Ok, fair enough, Rusty is never serious about anything except eating and sleeping, so he was playing Rusty games as we walked. But the rest of us were serious and focused.
But the point of our story is that our serious focus kept being broken by visitors on our walk. They weren’t quite as good of visitors as the Big Dogs in the Woods we see on some camping trips, but they were still very cool visitors. Take this little guy, for example. We became very serious and focused when we saw him, but not serious and focused about our walk:
We wooed out to him and asked him to wait for us so we could play some special games, but apparently he does not speak Siberian.
But this last visitor had us really perplexed. He seemed to have a task that he was concentrating on, because we could not get him to talk or play or anything.
Maybe he could not understand Siberian, so guess we need to practice our Dalmatian talk. Need to find some Dalmatian friends to translate for us. We are going to put black spots on Qannik for tonight’s walk and see if maybe that will get this guy to move.
It has certainly been a difficult week. Wonder if Kiska would like to express her opinion of the week.
Makes the boys jealous that you can pee higher on a tree than they can, huh, Kiska? Really not sure where you learned it, but it does keep the boys in check. Anyway, the weekend is rapidly approaching. Can you smell the weekend, girl?
So how about the humans take Friday off work. How about Monday, too? How about we load up the S-RV? How about we go hiking and camping for the weekend? Would that make you happy?
Apparently, the answer is yes!
Princess Dakota
8/15/97 – 6/24/09
Frankly, when we began blogging the activities of The Herd, we thought it would be a fun hobby. It truly is.
What we did not expect was that we would form incredible friendships without actually meeting the other people and dogs in “real life.” So, we never had the opportunity to meet Dakota “in the fur.” But because of the connections of Cushings with our own sweet Nikita, we became intrigued with the story of Dakota and her family.
And then we discovered that Qannik, who is about 9 years younger, not only looks like Dakota, but he has many of the same mannerisms and sounds. We joked how they were long lost twins born a decade apart.
And that made the last few weeks of blog posts and emails particularly difficult.
Tonight, we thank Dakota’s family for giving her the most powerful gift that we dog owners are asked to give. It is terribly cruel that dogs give to us their entire lives and only ask for our help at the end.
We are looking toward the northern sky at a shining new star and know that Dakota is North of the Rainbow Bridge and being greeted by a youthful and happy Nikita. The two young dogs are playing and running, free of the pain brought by Cushings and age.
To Dakota’s family, you are in our thoughts and prayers.
Qannik misses his “twin sister”
Is running with K & R in the Rockies like running with The Herd in the Smokies?
If this was Life with Dogs, we would have cute little balloon thoughts.
Which does Bricey think is a worse first name – Snowflake (me) or Boris (Rusty)?
Mostly, I am thinking of my beautiful twin sister Dakota. My special girl – and her family – are in our hearts and prayers today.
Most of you have heard this news, but on the off chance you have not – we interrupt our regularly scheduled blog . . .
A Siberian Husky is a unique dog in one very frustrating way – we are an incredible escape artist. We can climb fences, dig giant holes and even unweave fence wire. Our ability to understand a recall is challenged in the best of situations. And, worse, when we are free, we have the ability to run for miles and miles in a straight line before our furry brains unlock from the frenzy of flight long enough to look around and realize that this does not look familiar. We do not run away as much as we run. For the sake of it.
One of our own is out there right now running. His story, pictures and videos of his transport to a better life touched many of us, especially families like us made up of furries with unknown or not-so-great pasts. Now, Laska is missing – details here. Lots of people are looking for him, but those of us further away can help by keeping him in our thoughts and prayers. The Herd is certainly praying for your safety and for those of you who are hurting while you are away.
Five years ago today, Rusty the Rooster came to join our family. We were actually looking at another Siberian from Carolina Siberian Rescue, but when we went to look at Sunshine, Nikita was clear that she did not like him. Disappointed, we kept introducing one Siberian after another and either Nikita or Natasha made clear their disdain. We were about to give up when they told us of a recent rescue who had only been with them for a couple of days. We decided to meet him and out the front door stepped Rusty. Natasha immediately went into a playbow and Nikita huffed her reluctant approval. A couple of days later, Rusty joined our family. (Nikita was clear that she liked him, but did not realize he was going to live with us).
He never told us anything about his past and little is known. We tried to call him Boris for about a week, but it just never fit. We kept referring to him as the Rust Colored Dog as we tried to find a name and Rusty just ended up being the name.
We quickly realized that Rusty was not an ordinary Siberian (like there is such a thing). He is, well, eccentric in many ways. Like he does not like to be cold, but loves playing in the snow. He loves to sleep, but hates sleeping on the floor. He loves to be a lapdog and be cuddled, but has a mean ticklish streak. But, best of all, absolutely everything is a game. He takes absolutely nothing serious and can find the most creative ways to keep himself entertained.
And Rooster? So named because the boy loves to sing. At anytime, anywhere, and, mostly, when you least want him to, the head goes back and he sings as loudly as possible. Life is meant to be enjoyed.
The attitude is infectious and you can almost always see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Amazingly, he is the alpha male in the pack, though that matters little since the females all boss him around. But he doesn’t care. Attention is attention.
So, Rusty, happy gotcha day. We can not imagine The Herd without you. You are the entertainment, the one who can find fun in the most mundane things, and the one who reminds us everyday to live life to the fullest. Thanks for being a part of The Herd!
What is going on down there?
Posing at Devil’s Courthouse
Can I climb in your lap?
Yes, he climbed up there all by himself. Never sleep on the ground.
Never, never, never sleep on the ground
Look at the view!
Handsome Boy
A rare serious moment, with Kodiak and Natasha
Paw cross in the Jeep
Showing off that pickle nose
Look over there!
Doing the “Rusty Strut” at Charleston
The proper way to ride in the S-RV
Thanks for Five Years ! ! !
When people meet Natasha, she will either be aloof or offer her ears for an appropriate scratching. But everyone sees this pretty girl and wonders why I refer to her as Queen Natasha the Evil.
When you see her with the pack and she simply walks through them as they move out of her way, you see the Queen part pretty quickly. And even when she is just sitting in the car, people will comment on how self-assured and confident she is. But Evil?
For that you need to see her routine behavior around the house. Walking past Rusty who is sleeping on the couch, grabbing him by the neck, and pulling him into mid-air so he pulls a Wile E Coyote look for a half second before he crashes to the ground while she continues to walk across the room. Walking over the top of a sleeping Qannik making sure all four paws make connection. Waiting until everyone else is finished with their meal before starting and then slowly savoring every bite as they watch. Now you are beginning to get the idea.
And when we brush her she can purr as we brush her chest, neck and shoulders and growl as we brush her back half (and pity your attempts to brush haunches and tail). Thus she can purr and growl all in the same brush stroke.
But walking yesterday was a classic mixture of the royalty, the self-confidence, and the growl all in one package. We reached 80 degrees (26 C) here at the house (I know, I know, but that is hot for us) and, thus, the walk was moving slow. A bee buzzed down starting from the left.
Rusty did his duck and weave as the bee buzzed around his head. Cheoah and Kodiak each shook their heads as the bee buzzed around their ears. Qannik backed off and Kiska drifted away.
Not Natasha. She just kept walking forward as the bee started circling her head. Nary an ear flicked. She never shook. And yet the bee kept circling. Natasha slowly turned her head until she was looking directly at the buzzing bee hovering a mere two inches away from Natasha’s nose. Natasha curled her lips back, bared teeth, and growled at the bee. The bee flew away.
Queen Natasha the Evil.
Sometimes, you feel like walking with the pack:
Sometimes, you don’t.
