Now that Daisy has learned to open the screen door, it is a complete free for all.  For instance, apparently both Daisy and Gretchen decided to bring in some busy work. However, I thought everything was a bit to quiet…caught in the act.

The puppy in Heather’s eye was trying to keep up with a few of the others who had managed to climb a small incline amongst weeds and pines, but was soon led off course by a few chickens.  As all the other puppies engaged in play, the runt found these feathered species quite intriguing; well she was captivated by the birds themselves around 10% and the other 90%, I am ashamed to say, was limited to the droppings they left behind.  To this day she is still easily distracted by any and everything.  And somewhere along the quest for chickens the little rascal was head butted by a goat and let loose the slightest whimper, effectively sealing the deal with Heather. It goes without saying that she did not put the puppy down while we contemplated adopting a sister.

Say hello to Daisy!

Needing a few sweets, I decided to make some molasses cookies today for Scott and I. Since the molasses cookies have pretty much the same ingredients as the ginger bones, the girls thought that I was making their cookies and would not leave the kitchen.  Hence, it was only fair to their watering jowls that I make a half batch of dog treats. When I started to make cookies for them, little baby Daisy (a nickname that has withstood the test of time since she was a scrawny puppy) again would not say off the counters. As soon as I pulled them out of the oven, both the girls and Scott were in the kitchen all excited and crying to get a nice warm cookie.

The moral of the story is that everyone loves a fresh-baked cookie.

I received a complete smell-over as did my laptop case and bag. As usual, I decided the best way to accommodate their need to determine my whereabouts was to lie prone on my back on the floor.  Actually this method works quite well in satisfying their curiosity quickly, but it does have an unusual side effect; Daisy must climb on my chest to lie down.

As I predicted in the post on the 10th, these two shorthairs found the perfect spot at bedtime and adhered themselves to my right side all night long.  One would think a California king would have plenty of room but I find that the space I am allotted is nothing more than 24 inches of width…the edge of the bed on the left and two dogs on my right.  Did I mention I am 6 feet 7 inches tall?

Pacing, staring at the door, and incessant whining manage to fill what would normally be a completely different set of scheduled pacings, starings, and whinings. And that is definitely worth elaborating on at a different time, but as a teaser Gretchen is by far carrying a heart of cesium and functions as a canine atomic clock that can define Coordinated Universal Time.  As I said in the opener, Daisy and Gretchen have a routine and as creatures of habit are wholly unable to settle down for the evening during my absence. 

While I relax in room 218, my wife on the other hand has been reduced to an automaton whose function is to blurt at regular intervals the first names of our German shorthairs. This effort to restore order continues to fail until bedtime as the borg-esque Daisy and Gretchen purport “resistance to whining is futile.” Although the need to quell the two’s actions diminishes once all retire to bed, there still exists the nighttime plea for quiet as apparently all normal sounds have been magnified by a factor of 10 and Daisy cannot help but bark a word of warning. 

A rather poor night’s sleep Heather will have, but the tradeoff is a set of what we term portable personal heaters, PPH, that will curl up as close as possible and continue to make contact for the duration of the dark. A most efficient method of heating that will keep her warm on a cool winter’s night. 

However, upon my return tomorrow the two shorthairs feeling abandoned will stick to me as their confidence returns and I will in turn be the one graced with a set of PPHs.

The conversation was rather short and needless to say the recipient of the call was very surprised to hear that we were actually in the area. Because nobody just happens to be in the middle of nowhere and what two people travel that distance without first making contact to ensure the prize was indeed available let alone if anyone would be home.  The only thing I can say was that we were driven by a two year wanting of a puppy, which finally would come to pass with the purchasing of our first home two months earlier and the abandonment of a 650 square foot San Ramon, CA apartment.

After waiting an additional 5-10 minutes before heading over as we did not want him to think we were so anxious and just up the road, we traveled the final leg of our journey.  Down the dirt, pine tree laden road was a ramshackle red barn, a few non-functioning autos and a multitude of debris one expects to find on a stereotypical mountain farm.  And the man who greeted us was perfectly matched, attire, mustache, and all.  As we exited our 96 Ford Explorer so did 14 seven week old German shorthaired pointers from the clapboard barn as if we were watching a scene from 101 Dalmations.  There was no way in hell we were leaving without a shorthair of our own!