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Influences: A Dog Tale

The Dogtor is in

I’ve been working at mowing the embankment behind/beside (take your pick) the shop yard. Prior to that I let Janet (new foster dog) out to play with the others. As usual, Cochise hid inside while Blondie and Janet roughhoused. I watched for a while: they were not being too rough so I left them to play and went inside to set up race recordings for the next few weeks. I left the door open, and the hooligans raced in and out and round and round. On my wooden floors it sounded like a horse track.

Scheduling done, I brought Blondie inside the shop (she has a tendency to escape from the yard and run off if not supervised). Cochise went outside (he’s a good boy and can be trusted). I was going to put Janet back in the Guest Quarters, but decided to see what she would do if I left her with Cochise while I went to get the mower and cut the bank. “You’re in charge Cochise, take good care of her.”

Cochise and Janet dogs
From left: Janet, Cochise, pile of logs.

They were very good together. Quite calm. They walked around and explored things – together – at one point they did a little trotting, but mostly they sat on the dock and watched me work.

I went out the wooden gate and did the edging along the upper driveway and the side yard. After I put the mower away and went back to the shop, both dogs were laying in the rocks by the pen gate watching to catch glimpses of me. Very calm and peaceful.

I came in for a drink of water and some rest. Blondie went back out. She and Janet began roughhousing again. They came charging into the office where Cochise and I were and Cochise got caught up in the fracas. At first he tried to retreat under the desk, but I was using the desk and my legs were under there. I told him, “Go over to your dog bed, they won’t bother you there.”

He went, they bothered him.

So he told them off. Not barking, but speaking; loudly and firmly. With lots of growling. Cochise is quite a [talker].

Blondie laid down on the floor beside me. Janet left the room.

I expected she’d come right back to roughhouse some more, she always did. Except this time. So, I went to see where she’d gone and what she was up to.

No sign of her inside. I stepped outside and called her. She trotted around the far corner of the porch: covered in mud. She’d been laying in the muck under the porch. It’s cool there and she’s a mudder. Fortunately she has short fur so once it dries the mud brushes off easily.

Blondie and Cochise went back inside, Janet went back under the porch and that’s where everyone has been.

I don’t know what he said, but Referee Cochise definitely threw a flag on that play!


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