The Queen!

I've written often here about my Scottish Deerhound, "Randir", who turned 11 a couple weeks ago, and I have more to write on the subject. That's an advanced age for a deerhound, especially a male, and the funny thing is he really doesn't know he's old.

Randir's in the minor leagues, however, compared to Megan, a deerhound in Berkshire, UK. Astounding! HT to Ellen B. in Jersey!

Well After All....

...his name is Sandia!

(Photo taken with Motorola Razr phone cam.)

Something Different.

Mom, Dad, and the breeder. That's "Gogal" on the left, "Tuxedo" on the right, and Chris in the center, at the 2007 Dutch Salmon's Pack Hunt. I'll try and put better pics in the album.

Command Performance

For all those clamoring for more pictures.. here's a nice movement/construction image. Just look at those feet! He's going to be about Fanny's size.

One Smart Puppy

Forget everything you've heard about puppies.. especially kennel raised puppies. Here's a 13 week old pup who'd never had a collar on, never been on leash, never been in a crate, never been away from his siblings, etc. etc. etc.

Chris was at work when we left on Sunday, so we had to capture this kid on our own.. the plan was to take the big food dish to the puppy pen. All the puppies follow the bowl into the pen, which is when we were supposed to grab him while he was thinking about food. Well, guess who figured out something was up, and didn't go with all the other puppies? Un huh. Sandia. He stayed back, out of reach, and when I went to get him, he ran back to the garage, where I cornered him under a workbench, and got his collar and leash on.

He then did the "mule" thing, planting all four and refusing to budge. Not wanting to waste time, and he being a small pup, I just picked him up, took him to the van, and unceremoniously pushed him into his crate. We were packed, and ready to go, so Margaret got the gate, and I hit the gas, with Sandia yelping and screaming like he was being murdered. Fanny told him to shut up, in her inimitable fashion. It worked.

By the time we hit Texas, he was sound asleep. We stopped to walk dogs, and found he'd pee'd and pooped in the crate. After cleanup, he went back in without a problem. At our next stop, in Oklahoma, Margaret got him out of a clean, dry crate and walked him, where he pee'd for about 4 minutes, to much great praise. We slept in the van at WalMart Sunday night, but by Monday night we were feeling grubby, and tired and stopped for the night at a motel in Effingham, IL. By this point he'd kept the crate dry for over 30 hours, but hadn't pooped since we left. He promptly took care of that, twice, after getting out of the van... along with another long pee. He was now also walking normally... if you consider normal trying to trip me, or jumping up on me, or stopping to "sit and think" periodically. And most impressively of all, when we went into the room, he leaped onto the spare bed, curled up on the pillow like you see here, and spent the entire night there... next to a coiled telephone cord that would have sorely temped a lesser dog! Dog's not normal!

"I'm Not Gay!"

...My Gaydar says otherwise, you old Log Cabin Republican, you...

Introducing:

TSH WatermelonMan @ Shotonsite. ("Sandia"). Born 5/18/07. This little fellow wasn't originally available, but once he showed signs of getting a wire coat, he was. You don't have to ask us twice! He caught my attention the first time we looked at the pictures. The eyes have it!

Thank You Chris! Watch this space for more pictures... lots more pictures ;-)