All this talk of "poopsicles"" prompted this post. We also have the pleasure of

living with a lawn-taco connoisseur. Peggy Sue likes *nothing* better than her

*own* warm, steaming turf tootsie rolls. Only her own,mind you. Wouldn't

*think* of eating another dogs predigested leftovers. During her recent digestive

problem the Vet put her on a prescription food,some canned stuff that stunk even

*before* we ran it through the dog. I swear we thought we would need a doggy

Chiropractor due to the positions she twisted herself into during her delivery of

these tasty morsels. The only way you beat her to these "turf treats" was to

practically hold the pooper-scooper under her.

Our dog sitter summed it up when we asked him how he did with the poop eater

during his last stay. Peggy Sues apre' toilet habit is particularly nauseating for him.

"I got 'em all while they were still steaming", was his reply. Good man!  

Becky [I like horse poop. The shape is similar to my tennis balls!]

Peggy Sue [MMMMMMM! Lookie here what I found **right** behind me----] 

Michael & Scotty

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; General Pixie, Lover of Every Creature

I know this is going to tweak some noses--but I just have to offer my two cents on

this business of the USFS banning dogs in wilderness areas, or USFS land in

general.

Michael and I have worked closely with the USFS and the BLM in Oregon and

Washington because of our Mycological avocation. As many of you know there is

a *problem* with commercial mushroom picking in our areas. One thing we have

learned is that the USFS is highly influenced by powerful lobby groups, such as

ORV Clubs, Horse Clubs, Organizations with clout such as the Mazamas, Sierra

Club, etc. Most, if not all of these organizations are primarily interested in their

own continued usage of our forests. Not yours, or mine. If you are vocal enough,

and visible enough, you will likely catch some one's attention for your cause.

Because there is no money to be gained from Mushroom hobbyists, even though

we were using the forests for 40 years before the commercial pickers, we have

come out a distant second in the fight for forest privileges. There is little income to

be gained from hobbyists to fatten the USFS and BLM wallets. The commercial

pickers hire lobbyists, and their own scientists [much as the timber companies] to

further their own interest in the forests--money.

Here's my point [finally] --as long as there is *no* organized voice for allowing

our pets in the wilderness and on the trails used by hikers and horses, we won't

even be considered. You can take this one to the bank--unless there is organized

outrage, your dogs **will** be banned from the forests. I would hate to see this

happen. My dogs have always accompanied us on our hikes. We do not run them

off leash in areas we know will be heavily used by others. But--there are thousands

of miles of trails around here which are little used, and my girls are allowed to *run

free*.

Yes, I have met people with problem dogs. Had one almost take my leg off last

summer. But, 90% of the people we meet on trails with dogs either off or on lead

are courteous and not problematic. It is a mistake to hike with dogs off-lead in

areas used heavily by horses. Tell that to the moron who doesn't care if his dog

causes an accident. As in all things, 5% of the dog owners cause 95% of the

problems.

No, I don't know the answer to this, but I'm all too familiar with the problem.

Anyone offering any solutions out there? 

Becky [Not go hiking? How will I collect ticks? I love to run!!]

Peggy Sue [I never leave dad's heels, but I sure do like the woods!] 

Michael & Scotty

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; General Pixie, Lover of Every Creature

Anybody else out there with a Golden Retriever good at laying guilt trips? My

poor Becky is really on my case. First we left Becky and Peggy Sue with their

favorite dog sitter while we vacationed in Mexico. They were **so** happy to see

us when we got back! But then--as most of you know we have had **serious**

flooding here in Washington and Oregon. I work on the waterfront. When we

returned from vacation--there was no waterfront. Our Huge waterfront cranes as

well as all the buildings, high voltage vaults, etc. Suffered severe water damage. In

order to get things operational I have worked [at least] 12 hour days 7 days a week

since our return. Becky is letting me *know* that perhaps the vacation was

acceptable--but this business of not being home at all except to sleep is cutting into

our quality dog time!

The other night I sat in my huge recliner, which, except for our bed is Beckys

favorite place on earth. She sat with me in the chair for a bit, fidgeted, and then left

me to lay behind the chair. Every time we made eye contact she had that **you

don't love me anymore** look on her face. No amount of coaxing got her back on

my lap. However, potato chips worked. I have to hand it to her--the only individual

capable of making me feel more guilty about anything is my mother. Perhaps they

have been collaborating?

Another week or so and things will be back to normal, I hope. We can't even let the

girls swim in the creek below the house as the sewers flooded [nasty!!!!] and there

is unmentionable stuff everywhere. Time should heal all, eh?  

Michael & Scotty

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Scene: A rainy, windy, muddy, [in other words, typical Oregon weather] day on

the trail below our house. We are now in the meadow which was recently flooded,

off-lead.  

Becky [Hey, Pigger, how about that post on the Golden-L suggesting dogs knew about wines?]

Peggy Sue [Whine? I'm not whining!]

Becky [Not whining, you dolt, **wine** which is something good to drink, I guess.]

Peggy Sue [Never heard of it. But look! A dead fish, left from the flood! And it's really raunchy!]

Becky [Cool! Good find! Now---should we roll in it first, and then eat it?]

Peggy Sue [Hey, it's mine, I saw it first! I'm gonna roll in it!]

Becky [Uhhhhh--I dunno, you know how royally pissed dad gets when we do that.]

Peggy Sue [I'm going for it!!!] Roll, Roll, Roll![Boy,that smells great! Now let's eat it! Wait! Whatever is that high wailing noise?]

Becky [Ooops! It's dad! And he looks really unhappy--I'm outa here!]

Peggy Sue [Me too!]

Becky [Wait! There's some deer poop here! I think we have **just** enough time to scoop this gourmet delight before dad catches us! MMMMMM!]

Becky [Life is good, eh?]

Peggy Sue [Yeah, life is a hoot! Look out, here he comes! I bet we're gonna get another smelly bath---yuk! I really prefer this dead fish smell.]

Becky [I know, I know--there's no understanding these humans.] 

Michael & Scotty

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

The thread on feline trespassers reminded me of a funny story. When we moved to

this home, we still had Izzy, our [and Peggy Sue's] cat. In the old 'hood, Izzy, with

a little help from her two Golden friends, had whipped every other cat attempting

to cross her territory. Things were good. Top cat.

Then we moved. The territorial lines were not clear. The previous owners had no

cats. The neighbors did. Trouble was brewing. We sensed it. Izzy immediately set

out to establish her new territory. The neighbors had a large woodpile, where their

cats would languish away the sunny afternoons. Unfortunately, it was within 100

yards of our yard. Izzy had a problem with this. So, off she would trundle to the

woodpile, fixin' to kick a little a**. Much yowling, screaming, hissing, etc. would

emanate from the area. Due to the fact there were four neighbor cats, and only one

Izzy, her odds were poor. But--fear not! Becky, friend of Izzy, foe of **any**

other cat, would hear the cacophony and run to me, bouncing, up and down, as if to

say: "CAT FIGHT!!!! CAT FIGHT!!! LEMMMEEEEE GO GETTTT

'EMMMMM!!!!"

Of course, Becky was trained not to chase the neighbor kitties. But--that was her

buddy over there getting her little kitty butt kicked. So--"go help Izzy" I would tell

her. Off like a shot goes the Red Dog Cat Rescue! Watching the action that ensued

at the woodpile was always great entertainment. Neighbor cats spurting out from

all over, heading into the woods! Izzy standing with back arched watching them

run, as if to say "I **told** you I am the queen of the 'hood and my friend would

be here!" Becky somewhere in the woods, in hot pursuit. Needless to say, even

though Izzy fell prey to the coyotes and resides at the Rainbow Bridge where she

patiently awaits her Golden buddies--we still don't have a cat problem in this yard!

So--for a small gratuity, perhaps you people with cat trouble could hire the "Red

Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach" for a few days. Results guaranteed!

Seriously; please go easy on the cats and their owners. Cats do what cats want to

do. It is very difficult, if not impossible to train cats to stay in a yard. We loved our

cat as well as our dogs. Remember how you feel about your dogs, and that most cat

owners [us included] can be just as passionate about their cats. Try using the

commercially available cat repellents, they worked for us and they don't harm the

cats or create a neighborhood problem. 

Becky [Cat????? Where???? *****Gottaaaaa Chassseee "Emmmmm!!!! Cats just have **no** respect!]

Peggy Sue [I just sniff 'em. Chasing is toooooo common. But, after all you **are** a field dog.] 

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Girls [OK Wade?]

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

S016 Becky & The Pigger 

Becky [Hey, Pigger, what'cha doing with that shovel?]

Pigger [Shoveling sand, what's it look like?]

Becky [Yeah, I see that, but **why** are you shoveling all that sand into the back yard?]

Pigger [Well--I'm makin' me a cat box.]

Becky [A cat box? What for?]

Pigger [I was reading the Golden-L the other day, and they were talking about cats, and--I got to thinking. You're always running all the cats out of the yard; you big red dummy. I miss my snacks! If I make a nice enough kitty-litter area, perhaps I can lure them back.]

Becky [You can't talk about cats or make scatological references on the Golden-L; you know.]

Pigger [Sorry. You're right. Wanna help me shovel?]

Becky [Sure. Gotta admit; you're right about the snacks. Think this'll work?]

Pigger [Dunno. Hope so. Shoveling gives me an appetite.] 

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Girls [OK Wade?]

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

I'm so choked up as I write this. No, I'm not overcome by emotion. Read on. And

rest assured, I will not use the word "poop" in this post. 

Ah, spring! The birds are singing, my wife has planted her yearly quota of bulbs,

the grass is green--and the girls are blowing their coats. Achhhhh! Hair in my food,

hair on my clothes, hair in my mouth, everywhere but on my head, where I could

use it.

Today--today I made a **real** mistake. Off to the garden store via the freeway

with the new 70 MPH speed limit [close to wide open for a VW van]. Both the

girls happily riding along. Becky hunting cows, her favorite travelling sport. The

sun comes out. It warms up in the Hairmobile. I open the window---

***mistake***!!! WHOOOOOSSSHHHH!!!!! We all disappear in a cloud of dog

hair! I can barely see to drive! We weren't expecting warm weather. Didn't expect

to open any windows. Left the surgical masks home. Surgical masks are an

essential accessory for Golden owners who drive with the windows open during

coat-blowing time. Sure; it looks a little funny driving along wearing these things.

So what. I wasn't handsome to begin with. Stare, you idiots. You don't have the

pleasure of owning two [very] hairy Goldens.

I pull into the right lane and slow to 55 MPH and close the window. The hair

settles. Folks behind us are wondering what that huge cloud was emanating from

that VW van. Probably just another engine fire. Sure, engine fires are annoying,

but VW vans just do that once in a while. Youlearn to live with it.

We are home safely now, I will once again break out the air compressors and blow

out most of the hair from the Hairvagen. Life goes on. If neither of us is

hospitalized with a hairball, it wasn't such a bad day!  

Becky [Whoa! Where the heck did all that hair come from? Peggy Sue, are you shedding again?]

Peggy Sue [Don't blame me, you idiot. Probably came from dad. Look at his head, I think the rest of his hair just blew off.] 

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Girls [OK Wade?]

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Had some old friends over for dinner Sat. nite. Used the best linens. Good china.

Put on the daw g--! When we started dinner we had four [4] nice linen napkins.

Dinner ended, visiting started. Friends left late; we cleaned up the table. Now we

only have three [3] napkins. Hmmmmmm. Both the dogs were laying under the

table at dinner. Did someone drop a napkin? Hmmmm--could one of the girls have

eaten it? Did it smell like pot roast? We have only three viable options at this

point:#1 our friends ripped us off for a napkin. #2 we lost it in one small room. #3

the dog ate it Hmmmm. You decide, see which you think is the most likely.

Soooooooo---it's poop patrol again. The fecal detective. Lawn taco surveyor. Boy,

this is sure fun. So far five [5] piles and **no** sign of the missing linen. But what

an opportunity for puns and cliches!

"It'll all come out OK"

"Good things come to those who wait"

"All's well that ends well"

"Look for a sign, Tonto"

"I don't have a clue"

"Napkins happen"

"The proof is in the pooping" [sorry]

Becky [Why are you following me everywhere I squat? What are you looking for? Go away and let me go potty!]

Peggy Sue [You ate that napkin; didn't you? Sooner or later--we will have proof!]  

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Girls [OK Wade?]

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Well, seems we have a tracking hound. Thought the girls might be bored with

fetching tennis balls in the meadow, so decided to try a new game yesterday. I said

to Michael "do you know where the dummies are?" Amazing response. Both dogs

and Michael stood there and just looked at me. So embarrassing. So I exclaimed,

"no, no, the **throwing** dummies!" Sheesh. Smart asses.

Now that issue was resolved, and the **throwing** dummies found, I grabbed a

bottle of pheasant scent [how do they get that stuff in a squeeze bottle-- I get this

mental picture of someone squeezing a pheasant into a crumpled ball of feathers

over a dish--] and applied it liberally to the dummy. Yeah, got some on myself,

too.

Down to the woods. Michael held the dogs while this dummy dragged the canvas

dummy in a zig-zag pattern through the meadow and hid it in somebushes. First,

told Becky to "find the bird". She seemed clue less; flailed about aimlessly for a

bit, so called her in and turned Peggy Sue AKA "tracker" loose. Wow! She

immediately jumped on the scent trail and found the scented dummy within a few

seconds! Brought it to us and she was *****sooooo***** proud! Aced Becky!

Worked with Becky a bit more and she too, returned the dummy, but she is far

more random in her search. Does a big crossing pattern to find it. I think she would

rather chase tennis balls. But Peggy Sue---anytime we were hiding/dragging the

dummy she would cry and kipe and whine with anticipation, and she never failed

to find it even when I hid it in a tree! She didn't want to quit the game and go

home, either. Are we on to something here? Any hot tips on training for tracking? 

Becky [Why don't you just clobber that tennis ball for me--wanna chase it!]

Peggy Sue [Please dad hide the dummy please will ya huh! Oh, this is ***so*** much fun!] 

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Girls [OK Wade?]

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

S020 Doctor; Doctor---

Although I have been wiped out by both girls on frequent occasions; generally

involving tennis balls, sticks, etc. one particular incident neither Becky or I are

likely to forget. While hiking up a steep trail in the Gifford Pinchot Wilderness in

S w Washington State; Becky ran ahead of me up the hill and around a corner.

Directly in front of me laying across the trail was a large [3 ft. Dia..] log. Just as I

threw my leg over the log; at the critical point of balance, around the corner and

down the hill at warp speed comes Becky. Asshe knew the log was across the trail,

she was already ** in mid-air** coming directly at my skinny body; about chest

high. That had to be the most incredible collision I have ever experienced. Most

pro football players don't get hit that hard. And if they do, they weren't wearing a

40 lb. Backpack.

Down on the ground we both went, me on my back with legs and arms kicking in

the air like a beetle on it's back. Tough to get up wearing a pack! Becky is laying

next to me; a glazed look in her eyes. We both came to atabout the same time. No

permanent harm, but we both tend to be much more careful on the trails now. Man,

but that's one hard-headed dog.  

Becky [Who you calling hard-headed? You dang near broke my neck! Next time move off to the side of the trail!]

Peggy Sue [If you stoooopid field dogs would slow down a bit, the world would be safer for the rest of us! Slow down and live!] 

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Girls

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet