Playmates

We thought when we got Sluggo, he would be a playmate for Mater. Obviously, we were new to life with a corgi. They do not play, they direct.

Poor Mater became the object of all direction; moments of play were few and far between. Mostly they wrestle over toys and make a big show of their tussle, but only until Sluggo decides he has had enough. Like real brothers, they are competitive and want all the attention.

 When Skip arrived, we weren't sure how he would fit in. As a guard dog, for sure. But into the canine family? Turns out, he was the playmate Mater had been waiting for.

 
Sluggo tries to direct Skip, but Skip dismisses him like a gnat. He is a real dog, patrolling for miles, saving the chickens from coyotes and generally keeping everything in order. He has no time for stunted little barkmobiles like Sluggo turns into around him.

 But Skip loves Mater. They roll around, gnaw on each other's necks and Skip runs laps trying to get the blind dog to catch him. Pure joy. No one can help but smile at their delight at simple play.

 

So please excuse my absence. I have taken their lesson to heart and been engaged in simple play this summer.

Baby pictures

Bomb, you were a dear

Someone took Mater's favorite toy.

With apologies for destroying your illusions, little ranch work is done on horseback anymore. Most of it is done with four-wheelers. We have a few here; Jack's favorite was an ancient Bombadier workhorse. As soon as he heard it start, Mater was on the scene and clambering on. He rode and rode and rode, chasing cows, irrigating, checking heifers - whatever. He sat or laid on the back as happy as could be.

It was always parked in this spot, just outside our door. When we got home one afternoon last week it was simply gone. Someone had come up the long driveway, removed the toolboxes (aka milk crates) from the back and driven away. We're perplexed. If only Mater were a bloodhound.

And the worst news is that the one Jack rides now doesn't have room for Mater.

The nine lives of Mater the wonder dog

Mater was born blind. He almost became the mascot in an optometrist's office, but ended up here with us instead, where he gets to run and crash into as many things as he wants to. That sounds awful (though not as bad as the sound of his head hitting the propane tank at full gallop), but Mater is the happiest, most resilient dog; he is an inspiration to all who have met him.


I know, we all are foolish over the wonders of our dogs, but consider this: in his three years, Mater has cheated death five times.

1. He was run over by a backhoe.
2. He went under the ice in the swiftly moving river.
3. He got lost into the wilderness of Bridger-Teton National Forest among the grizzlies and wolves.
4. He disappeared for four days on the ranch with a blown out knee.

And most recently, while we were on vacation and he was boarding at a friend's, he ate a carpet. A friend of mine lost her Corgi this way a few years ago so I know how dangerous it is. But Mater? He just threw it all up and had to live on rice for a few days. He's amazing.

How to make a snow angel if you have four legs

Playing footsie

 

You can certainly tell who rules our roost.

Doggone it

IMG_0268
Originally uploaded by coralinad

Let me introduce our friend, the Colonel. You can't tell very well here, since this photo shows more of his personality than him, per se, but he looks just like Buffalo Bill. At least that is what people from Wyoming say. People from Kentucky say the resemblance is more along the lines of Colonel Sanders. Either way, his signature begins with Col.

Colonel has been staying here with us for a few months between jobs. He has been a great hand around the ranch, especially with Jack recovering from his surgery. He and Jack worked together on the Wagon Train a few years ago and he's come every Spring and Fall since.

This morning was his last here and he was determined to get a picture with his Santa hat on Mater (yellow lab - more, tomes, in fact, to come about him) for a picture. You can see how well that went. Anything soft placed anywhere near the muzzle of this yellow fellow instantly becomes a tug of war toy.

That's Sluggo, the wonder Corgi in the foreground. He may get a mention or two later on here as well.

By the way, I had to ask.

"Colonel, did that trim start out white?"

"No," he said. "That's the best fake mink I could find!"