New Links

Added a couple of new links on the sidebar. Definitely worth a look as we try to be less sighthound-centric here at the Hare-Brained Express. Patrick Burns has working terriers. He posts sometimes witty, sometimes scathing commentary on all things dog, and other related subjects. He's recently had a couple terrifically entertaining posts on the show dog - working dog dichotomy.

And because gun dogs need representation, too, we have Andrew Campbells Regal Vizsla. He has puppies, too. When you're tired of looking at Galgo Espanol puppie pictures here, click on over to Regal Vizsla and see how the puppies are progressing there! (But for the life of me, I can't imagine why, with a name like Andrew Campbell ,the man doesn't have Scottish Deerhounds!). Andrew also enjoys cycling, and actually admits to being a University of Michigan grad! Welcome.

Embarassing? I'll Give You Embarassing!

One piece about the Michigan-Appalachian State debacle last Saturday, and then I'm done with it.

Yes, I'm a Michigan fan. Margaret, too. We both were born and grew up in Ann Arbor. Margaret's parents are rabid fans.. they not only go to the major sports events, they go to women's gymnastics, softball, baseball, lacrosse, and even field hockey, (the Michigan Women were National Champions a couple years back). My parents were also die-hard fans. My dad worked as an usher at the Big House, and passed the job on to me when he retired back in the 70's. Neither of us attended UM, but when you grow up in "A-Squared" you're either a Michigan fan, or you're the equivalent of some kind of child molester.

So yes. It was embarassing last Saturday as the scores ticked in throughout the afternoon. It was doubly embarassing because I was shooting a trial in Dayton, OH that was rife with incorrigible, hated Buckeye fans... (who were probably secretly thanking whichever deities they believe in that their school wasn't stupid enough to schedule Appalachian State, a move which, win or lose, would have no good come of it).

Very embarassing. Can't say it enough. Nearly as embarassing as, say, going to a high profile National Championship football game and getting bitch-slapped around by a team nobody thought should even be there. (And then, to add insult to injury, to show up at another National Championship game in another major sport just a few short months later, and get bitch-slapped around by the very same school for all the world to see.)

Yup. Last Saturday was almost as embarassing as that. I'd put it at Number 2.

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!