Tag: orso

Orso Finally Got It!

We went hunting in Central Nebraska this past weekend.  The original plan was to hunt pheasant but there were no pheasant, so it was decided that we would hunt quail instead.  Pheasant are not an especially hardy bird at the best of circumstances and with the severe drought have not fared well at all.  Now since it was determined that quail was the only option to hunt I decided to forgo carrying a shotgun and carry a camera instead.  I am not fast enough to shoot quail.  On the occasions we have flushed a covey of quail in past hunting trips, I was always startled at the delicate fluttering of birds and as soon as I realized that I could shoot at them, the birds were way out of gun range.  So I figured I would stand a better chance of getting some shots of the dogs and Mitch with my camera than hitting a quail with my gun.

Saturday was cold and cloudy, with temperatures in the forties with a mild breeze, making day seem pretty raw.  The dogs headed out with Charlie ranging a bit too far in front as always.  We have to call him back often otherwise he’ll flush a bird three counties away.  AJ wandered a lot slower and more methodically this year, his age showing.  Orso as usual headed off lumbering along just happy to be out with everybody bumping into the closest body to wherever he ended up in the field.  Charlie was the first to flush a bird and Mitch actually shot it.  I was shocked.  I didn’t really think that any birds would get shot the entire weekend.  Charlie fetched the bird up with Orso sniffing away at this new creature.  He has shown no interest in pheasants at all.  But this new one smelled pretty good to him. 

Orso started off and actually put head down and used his nose to search for a likely scent.  This was a bird he liked and wanted to find.  Who knew?  Orso wandered farther into the field head down, stopped for a brief moment then lunged forward catching a bird in his mouth before it could fly.  He came trotting up to Mitch with the bird in his mouth, its’ little white head poking out to the side.    He did this not once but three times.  Orso had great success at quail hunting.  He only needed us to carry the birds after he caught them.

Maybe there is hope for him yet.

Orso Being His Usual Uncooperative Self

Orso wants to go out for a walk but not helping get his harness on is more fun.

“See you can do it without me.  I don’t have to stand for this.”

Summer Play Pictures

Charlie’s just taking a load off and resting

Orso wants to play on the jungle gym too!

Just a Routine Visit to the Vet?

Even a routine visit to the vet to get the dogs their six month bordetella vaccination is never dull.  People can call dogs “dumb” animals if they want, but those that do evidently don’t actually own dogs.  Our three love to go with us everywhere and when we can accommodate them, we do.  Before Orso that was easy for us.  AJ and Charlie were always happy and content just to be in the car with us.  When we got Orso, dog rides became arduous to say the least.  He will howl and bark at us when he doesn’t get to get out of the car to go in when us.  Getting to ride in the car being out and about isn’t enough for him, he wants to get out of the car and go inside the store with us too.   Now he has succeeded in getting the other two to bark and carry on along with him.  Very painful on the ears, plus the looks from other bystanders are very embarrassing.  We’ve even been paged while shopping at Cabelas, that “the station wagon with the barking dogs, has left your lights on.”  I made Mitch go and turn off the lights on the car; I didn’t want anyone to know who owned the heathens.

A trip to the vet, no big deal, right?  Wrong, Orso remembers where places are and how we get there.  Once we start out on our treks, he gets his bearings and depending on where we are going he starts howling and barking at us, even before he knows whether or not he gets to get out or has to stay in the car.  Very annoying, makes me crazy having a dog bark at the back of my head to yell at me.  Coincidence, no,  because he doesn’t bark at us at the gas station or when I drop Mitch off at work in the morning, he knows that we’re not staying.  Not so dumb, huh.  He knows the road to the vet and starts barking and raising hell as soon as we pass the grocery store. 

Today we had the added bonus of road construction.  Yay.  Lane and road closures, oh goody.  The road to vet is closed and the only way in was to take the roundabout and go through the very exclusive golf course and housing addition that the vet’s office is by.  Here we were driving a seventeen year old station wagon with three dogs sticking their heads out of the windows barking at golfers and residents as we snaked our way through the detour to get to the vet.  We looked like the poster child for chaos.  Thank god no one holding a golf club was within throwing distance to our car.  Though I’m sure we caused a few muffed shots. 

After today I think the city may rethink their detour route after all the nasty phone calls they will probably receive.

Life in the Slow Lane

AJ with that look of total devotion and love.  You can’t buy that anywhere, you have to earn it.

When it’s too hot to wrestle outside, our bed becomes the perfect soft spot for baring teeth and showing how “tough” they are.

Orso standing on the bed sticking his tongue out at AJ just like a little kid saying, “Come and get me, I dare you!”

We’re Hunting Squirrels

Charlie waiting patiently

Orso trying to climb the tree

The object of their interest

We Were Not Alone

Our normal morning walk at o’dark thirty, 4:30am actually, started as always.  Me trying to get the dogs and leashes under control.  AJ will only walk on my left, Charlie and Orso don’t care which side they walk on as long as Orso is on the outside and Charlie is next to me.  Orso and Charlie will switch from the left side to right multiple times during the walk almost always by crossing behind me causing me to have to juggle the leashes around to keep from getting yanked around from behind.

On this particular morning, the walk started off with our normal chaos, sniffing, peeing and snatching grass to munch on during the walk.  But when we got to the long stretch of road that has no houses on either side, a ravine on the left and a wooded hill on the right with houses on the hilltop, the dogs discovered we weren’t alone.  Something was keeping pace with us.  The invisible stalker was up on the hill to our right.  Orso discovered our stalker first, stopping and sniffing the air with his head held high, straining at the leash to get a closer sniff.  Charlie soon caught a whiff and joined Orso straining at his leash too trying to get closer to whatever “It” was.  I looked around in the gloom, but couldn’t see anything, I listened intently to try and catch any rustling sound to try and determine where and what was out there, but I didn’t hear anything.  I tugged on their leashes to pull them away from the area and hopefully leaving the thing, whatever it was alone and hopefully leaving us alone too.

But no, our invisible stalker stayed with us, keeping pace staying high on the hill and being quite stealthy.  The only giveaway was his scent which evidently was tantalizing to the dogs.  Me not so much.  I couldn’t smell, see or hear the stalker, so I was getting pretty unnerved trying to keep the dogs under control and alert to a possible threat.  The rest of the walk was uneventful when we got past the dark stretch of road and back into the glow of the streetlights.  Of course that was until Orso shook his head and I about jumped out of my skin.  Just a little jittery, silly me.

The Call Of The Wild…Sorta

Camping in the wild lends to unique sounds from the calls of the local inhabitants claiming their territory or seeking a mate.  Hearing wolves howl late at night is both an exhilarating and unnerving sound, knowing you’re not alone and wild animals are nearby, protected only by the wall of a camper or the thin material of a tent.  Camping out in the wild you expect and hope to hear the noises, that’s one of the reasons you’re out there in the first place.  Since I don’t go camping, my idea of roughing it is that the ice machine is at the other end of the hall, I usually only get to hear the late night sounds of wolves howling on National Geographic.  So imagine how unnerving it was to wake up to the sound of howling at midnight in our bedroom. 

I bolted straight up out of a semi-sound sleep looking around trying to find the source of the soulful howl.  The howling came from across the room, inside the bedroom.  Living in the Midwest, we don’t have wolves, a few coyotes, but no wolves, so you can imagine how being roused out of my sleep to the eerie howl would be a bit strange to say the least.  The sound didn’t come from outside, because the dogs were still asleep and if there was an interloper outside our window, the dogs would have jumped up barking and throwing a fit.  AJ was asleep in the round bed next to my side of the bed so he didn’t howl.  Charlie was asleep at the foot of our bed, so he didn’t howl either.  No, the howling came from the dog bed next to Mitch’s side of the bed.  Orso was dreaming and for some reason he howled in his sleep.  The weirdest part was the neither of the other dogs stirred a bit.

Why I have no idea, because when they’re awake, they don’t howl.  I know, I’ve tried to get them to howl, but they won’t cooperate.  So I’m usually standing around howling all be myself, looking pretty silly.  Most dogs run in their sleep or make small woofing sounds, but I’ve never heard them howl.  So now I have a dog that dreams he’s a wolf.  Next he’ll start sleep walking, raiding the fridge.  I see lots of sleep interrupted nights ahead.

It’s Too Hot To Go Outside

It’s hot and the dogs don’t want to go outside, but still want to play, hence the house has become their personal play zone.  The living room is the wrestling ring, the bed is the trampoline for their jumping on and off point to get a better vantage point in the wrestling ring and the dining room is the challenge zone.  That is where one of the dogs will square off on one of the other two issue a challenging bark, make a threatening lunge and then turn tail run to the living room and wait in the wrestling ring for a challenger to show up.  Of course with 3 male dogs, even though they are all neutered, they are still male dogs, there is always a challenger.  Then the fight is on, barking, charging each other from opposite sides of the room for a “vicious” chest slam and finally crashing to the floor for some serious neck chewing.

 Orso will pull away jump up and run to the bedroom, leap on the bed and stand there barking at the other two.  What a lame-o.  If no one accepts the challenge, he will then leap off the bed and rush back into the fray, because it’s more fun to be chewed on.  I don’t know why, I’ve watched them chewing on each other and it looks very painful.  Grabbing the jowl or face with their teeth and pulling back, makes me hurt just watching.  These three will do this all the time.  Go figure.

After much barking, chest slamming and chewing all three will collapse on the floor panting thoroughly spent and happy, watching me right all the knocked over furniture.  I think we need more dogs.

Five Tired Puppies

Swimming was a huge success as usual.  The day was beautiful, clear skies, warm around 85° a bit windy though, which kept us from baking.  AJ couldn’t wait to jump off the dock and will jump into the water, retrieve the drop, swim back and race to the end of the dock to do this over and over until he is totally exhausted.  Happy and wiped out.  Charlie won’t jump off the dock but wades out until he can’t touch anymore then gingerly steps out and starts tentatively swimming until he remembers, oh yeah, I can do this.  He’ll retrieve the drop only if no other dog is close to him  in the water.  Strange dog, I know.  Orso will get in the water, paddle around to cool off then stand on the end of the dock wistfully watching the boats go by hoping someone will come take him for a ride.  He’s a gentlemen’s dog wishing for the good life.

 

Our friends dogs, Murphy a large German Shepherd, loves to swim just for the sake of swimming.  He will paddle around in circles, back and forth enjoying the moment, just being in the water.  Stella, a Belgian Malinois Chow mix loves jumping off the dock to retrieve a pink Frisbee.  She’s also good at retrieving the wayward drop or Frisbee that one of the other dogs gives up on.  We’ll just point at or throw a rock out where we want her to go and she’ll jump off and go get it just like a champ.   

The afternoon is not just swimming though.  Oh no, in between the dock diving and swimming, there is tag, keep away and MMA Style wrestling.  Charlie is the usual instigator of keep away, he’ll come out of the water with a drop in tow and take off running begging everyone to give chase.  Tail tucked, butt down and head up jinxing and jagging running around like a lunatic with three other dogs giving their best effort to run him down.  If one of the other dogs catches up with him, then the chest bumping and neck chewing begins.  Orso is the usual recipient of the neck chewing.  A rousing game a tag follows neck chewing, Orso runs away and the other try to tag him and drag him down.  Finally a cooling dip in the water rejuvenates the gang of hooligans.  This is repeated about three or four times before the dogs are finally spent and ready to walk back home for a bath and dinner.  Frosty pumpkin pops for dessert.  Life doesn’t get much better than this.  I wish my life was as simple.