Back after Earnies "special class". The instructor tried everything in her

book of tricks to get him to screw up. Nope. 100% on recall, under some

difficult and unusual circumstances. Probably the hardest was the cookie

jar--shaped like a cat, with goodies in it, that meows when you open the

lid. The instructor knelt down with this thing between Earnie and I with him

on a sit-stay. She would open the lid of this thing, so it's meowing and the

cookies showed. You then were supposed to call your dog past this problem.

Earnie slowed on the first pass--thought he was gonna go for the

cookies--but he thought better of it at the last moment. I called him past

it 3 times, he **really** wanted to go check it out--but didn't. Yes!!

There's hope! We also put him out in the play yard, and the instructor [who

Earnie adores] would play with him while I called. He came every time, butt

just a-wiggling. So, we'll stick to the basic training twice a day for the

rest of the week. Next Monday we'll see if he decides to do a flier at

Agility again. If he does--I'm ready. So, hold that BBQ for now.

Becky [Big deal. I can do all that stuff. And more. How come I don't get to

go to classes?]

Peggy Sue [I woulda never got past that cookie jar--Ida mugged that

trainer!]

Earnie [Cookies? Or should I go to dad--Hmmmmm. Tough one. Guess I'd better

go to dad.]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Ah, yes! Once again that question arises! Unfortunately, it's not only the

question that arises--but a lot of hackles, as well! Having been on this

list for around 4 years now I think I've seen this particular maelstrom at

least a dozen times. Fear not, G&H listers, this too, like a severe case of

flatulence--will pass. It only stinks for as long as you let it. To the best

of my limited knowledge, during the word wars in the past nobodies minds

were changed regardless of how intense the arguments became. We all own [or

are owned by] Golden Retrievers--thus the purpose of this list! What we do

with them is primarily our business; within the confines of the law.

Admittedly, when first I found this list I took a jaundiced view of the

Conformation Ring. It's still low on my list. But--had Earnie turned out to

be *the* show dog his breeder hoped for, he would have been shown. Perhaps

that would have made me a hypocrite? Egad! He's a pretty boy, but has a

"gay" tail. Even *one* minor fault in the Show Ring with so many Goldens is

probably one too many. Add that to the problems we encountered living with

an intact male dog---!!! No way; Jose! So, we've taken another road. We are

working on Agility and Obedience with Earnie, Becky is doing well at

Agility, and Peggy Sue decorates the living room carpet. Peggy Sue is a

classic case of a breeding that never should have happened. Questionable

structure, poor joints, just not a good candidate for too much exertion.

But--we love her dearly, and she's a happy girl. In the end, in our opinion,

that's what counts. Is the dog happy? Healthy? Do you love your dog? Does

your dog love you? I say phooey on worrying about who's right, or wrong when

it comes to what you choose to do with your dog. There *is* no right or

wrong, just your choice. If you're happy, and your dog is happy--then you

made the right choice. Love conquers all. Now let's all get back to spending

more time with our wonderful Goldens, and less time on these keyboards!

Earnie [I'd be a lot happier if you didn't get so anal when I don't respond

to your "come" command!]

Peggy Sue [I'd be happier if you didn't clean all the poop up so soon. I'm

hungry!]

Becky [I just couldn't be happier. Life is such a hoot! Beats living in that

garage before dad rescued me!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Ah, yes! Nearly lost it last night. Took Becky & Earnie to their Agility classes. First

time in a week I've felt good enough to do much; fighting a nasty cold. Still didn't

feel good, not in the mood for much nonsense. As I mentioned, my Golden Son; Earnie, had

decided that whatever was happening on the other side of the arena was more interesting

than his class last week. Took off on me 4 times. Spent a whole week of basic training

twice daily, took him to a special class with our Obedience instructor. He did well,

naturally. However, I was advised by this instructor that in the event Earnie ran off

again--which he did, once last night right at the end of the class--to call twice--then

GO GET THE DOG! No more nice guy! Upon catching the little devil, grab him by the scruff

of the neck while making eye contact and inform him that not coming when called is

*totally* unacceptable. This I did. No rough stuff, just grab that loose scruff & pull

his face into mine and tell him what I think! FWIW the Agility Instructor viewed the

situation and told me later that had that been *her* dog, she would also have dragged

him back to where he was supposed to be when he took a flyer. She thought Earnie got off

too lightly.

OK. So, ends Earnie's lesson for the night. Out to the truck, deposit Earnie, bring in

Becky. Becky is *never* a problem. Anyway--a new woman with a Springer Spaniel was

starting in Becky's class. She had observed the scene with Earnie. She had not been

there the previous week. Never seen this broad before. This walking opinion waltzes up

to me in front of the whole class and says "if *I* were your dog, I would *never* come

to you". She proceeded to tell me just how the dog should be trained, etc. Told me what

I did was all wrong. When I informed her I wasn't particularly interested in her input

and was working under instructions from a very good Obedience Trainer it didn't even

slow her down. She *knew* better. Arrggghhh! The *urge to kill* came over me--! There

was no slowing this biddies mouth. I asked her if she had noticed that I had two happy,

well performing dogs and that her dog was cowed and very unwilling to do anything for

her. Still no light went on. What to do? I spent the rest of the night avoiding this

person. Embarrassing!! Any suggestions? Other than the obvious? Which, of course would

be rather rude. Gratifying, but rude. Besides, I might hurt my foot.

Becky [Yeah, wow, she followed you all over the place chewing on ya! Maybe she's hot for

ya!]

Peggy Sue [If I'd been there, I could *really* show her how to misbehave!]

Earnie [Well, yeah, you ought to listen to that woman, I shouldn't really have to come

unless I want to, ya know. Maybe if you had peanut butter, hey, then maybe I'd stick

around. ]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

And in the beginning, God created the Heavens, and the Earth. This was big job. Yea,

verily, because the Unions at the time were all-powerful, God worked in three shifts, in

an attempt to keep the bottom line to a minimum. Because the Office Manager was thrifty;

yea, verily bids went out for office equipment. Because IBM came in low, it was decreed

that God and his co-workers wouldst be trained on PC's, even though even in the

beginning it was well known they were inferior to Macs. So it was that God worked on

creation on his PC during office hours, but being an all-powerful superiorbeing, he

used a Mac at home and often brought his Apple PowerBook to the office withhim to use

during breaks.

As it was then, and as it is now, in the office worked a being known as doG; the office

wag. No one really knew what doGs purpose was, but doG kept the office supervision

entertained; had nice legs, and made good coffee; which doG delivered willingly on

command. To this day, every office has a doG, though the name may be changed, the

persona is readily recognizable. So it was, on the 6th day, at the end of the second

shift; God began the creation of the Golden Retriever. Because it was near the end of

the second shift, supervision were all snacking in the cafeteria, hangingout making

jokes while doG; the office wag, sucked up to them. Now God, nearing the end of his

shift; had become annoyed at the early version of Windows on his PC after it crashed for

the 15th time. During some of these crashes, data was corrupted, or lost. This, by the

way, explains the creation of termites, wasps, ticks, fleas, and political parties as we

know them. Rumor has it that while creating an American President, God hit the "morals"

button, thus crashing windows. On re-booting, we all know the result.

So, with 15 minutes left in his shift, and in a hurry to go home; God opened up his

Apple PowerBook and began creating the Golden Retriever. And, it was good! He opened

PhotoShop, and began pasting parts and pieces of other creations together. He used only

the best parts. He inserted friendliness, trustworthiness, and great Godly love. He

created a lithe, active body. A marvelous sense of humor! Soft, silken coat! God smiled!

This was good! But--alas, time to go home, the third shift was coming on. As they

dragged themselves before the keyboards, sleepy, slack faces obviously suffering from

sleep deprivation, second shift God couldn't help but wonder what the third shift would

screw up this time. Still smarting from the embarrassment of the creation of the

Duck-Billed Platypus; Nixon and the Edsel, to name a few, second shift God was

preoccupied, and failed to remember his PowerBook, left running on his desk.

Uh-oh. The plot thickens.

Now, as we all know, while the office wag is usually the first out the door at quitting

time, and the last in at starting time, one thing the office wag cannot pass up is the

opportunity for a good practical joke. doG; the wag; spotted the open PowerBook laying

on God's desktop. He spied the new; marvelous creation God had dubbed the Golden

Retriever, 95% complete--except for the brain! doG sat at the keyboard and

pondered--what to do? Now, doG had never used a Mac before, but Mac being the naturally

intuitive creation it is, doG the wag quickly grasped the means of creating a brain for

this sophisticated, gorgeous creature. doG went into the PhotoShop clip-art folder,

browsing until doG found--ah! Voila! Tennis balls! Into the Golden Retriever's vacuous

skull went two tennis balls. Ah! Stuffed Teddy Bears! These he dubbed"woobies" and

inserted several shapes and sizes. Frisbees! These he stuffed in with the other stuff,

along with a propensity to destroy them along with all woobies. The tennis balls, doG

determined, were to remain inviolate. Now, in doG's hurry, not wishing to be discovered

thus incurring the wrath of God, doG realized he couldn't fit all this stuff in that

crammed cranium. No room for the brain! So doG increased the size of the Golden

Retrievers head. However, he hit a button causing the head to enlarge too much, allowing

all that stuff in there to rattle. As doG was about to correct this, the second shift

Supervisor entered the office; causing doG to hit the "send" button, just before

inserting the brain. And that, my friends, is how the Golden Retriever was created.

Becky [Well, that certainly explains Earnies big empty head. Thank doG for

that, eh?]

Peggy Sue [So, hey, why is it I like to eat poop? Is that in the next

chapter?]

Earnie [Nah, Peggy Sue. I think you're the result of a PC crash. Think? Can

I Think?]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Maybe you had to be there. Fire up the left side of your brains, try to visualize this.

Scenario: down in the big field, tennis racquet in hand. 25 tennis balls in my backpack.

Three dogs a-fetchin'. Two, actually. Peggy Sue is in the bleachers. Watching the game.

The Right Fielder [Becky] is in position. The Left Fielder [Earnie] is inposition. The

Left Fielder already has two balls in his cavernous mouth. Awaiting the third one, so

he can return them. The Right Fielder has no balls. But then, you knew that. She's a

girl.

OK. Batter [me] up. I step to the plate. I lob a tennis ball into the air! SLAM!!!! I

give it a mighty whack! It's a loonnng, high fly ball! It's headed [uh-oh!] right

between the Left and the Right Fielders! The Right Fielder is coming in, really shakin'

and bakin'! The Left Fielder is smokin' too! They both have their eyes **riveted** on

the ball! This looks ugly!! The ball is in it's downward arc! Both Fielders are running

full speed, directly at one another! Oh no! Is there going to be a collision? I almost

cover my eyes. Peggy Sue is watching, hopefully. If those two die she getsall the

cookies.

Then--at the last possible micro-second--the Left Fielder spots the Right Fielder! He

drops the two tennis balls he's been packin' and leaps mightily into the air! I swear

the little dude could have cleared a cow! Right over the top of Becky; who was also in

the air! Did he catch the ball? Nah! It bounced off his hard noggin. Flew another 40

feet, right toward Peggy Sue. She ended up with it. Both the fielders ended up with

grass stains. No injuries! Whew! After this I'll be more careful where I hit the ball.

Earnie [Watch me dad! I can flyyyyyyy ooooof! Darn those landings!]

Becky [Dimwit! I called it! Outa my way!]

Peggy Sue [Oh, I hope they crash, I hope they crash, I hope they crash--darn! I have to

share the coookies again!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Just got back from our first Agility "Fun Match". Our first taste of competition. Not

what I expected. I figured there might be 25-50 people with their dogs. Hah! At least

150 people, maybe that many dogs! Lots of waiting, 2 hours between runs. I took Becky

**knowing** I would run her. Becky is 100% controllable under any conditions. She's so

busy running the course she doesn't even see the crowd, or the other dogs. Great old

girl! Earnie came along in case the crowd was small. I thought I'd give him a chance if

there wasn't too much distraction. No way! Too many dogs, too many people. Until I'm

100% sure of him not taking a flyer --I don't want to risk it. Several of the dogs we

saw today were extremely dog aggressive. Don't want any chance of my "Son" getting

chewed up.

I signed Becky up for two Agility runs, and a "Gambler's Tunnel Course". She is **so**

good--if only I were as competent as she is--! Alas, I'm not. On her first Agility run

[this was her first full course run--**ever**!] she absolutely aced everything except

the weave poles, which I knew were going to be a problem. We now have our own set of

weave poles at home, and we're working on it. She was perfect in every other way. We

then went to the tunnel course. Now-- the tunnel course is where I would really love to

run Earnie, as he adores the tunnels and jumps and is extremely powerfuland **fast**

on this type of course. But, because I wasn't sure of his staying with me, Iran Becky

instead. Poor Becky! There was a total of 10 tunnels, all laid out in a very confusing

[for me] configuration. She was going so fast **I** couldn't keep up. Weadded 3 tunnels

due to my screw-ups--she still did the course in under a minute. Not bad foran 8-year

old dog. Too bad she doesn't have a decent handler, eh? I could kick myself!She should

have been in the 40 second range. On her last run on the Agility Course,they reversed

the course, causing her to run on my right side about 90% of the time. After 8 years of

Obedience she's still not too comfy with being on my right side. She tends to work too

close to me on the right side, but we're seeing improvement with every class. She still

ran well, my miserable handling a problem on that last run. She gets so excited, barks

the whole course through! I have to slow her considerably on the Teeter; A-Frame and Dog

Walk. She misses the contact zones with her speed. What a great dog! It is so hard to

look at that gray muzzle and realize we may not have a lot of time left for this active

a sport. I intend to keep her going as long as I can. Heck, I may poop out before her!

I'm certainly the more tired of the two of us today!

Peggy Sue [I stayed home and warmed the futon.]

Earnie [I could beat those other dogs time, dad! I know I can!]

Becky [Oh, how I love this sport! Let's do it again! C'mon dad, keep up!

Bark!! Bark!!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

It's that time of year again, here in the great NW. Hasn't frozen hard as yet, but the

rains have set in. The hills are full of mushrooms! On the spur of the moment, we load

our rain gear; mushroom baskets; and three anxious Golden Retrievers in the truck and

head for those hills! All three dogs know the phrase "Mushroom Hunting"quite well. It

ranks up there with "cookie"; "squirrel"; and "let's go" on the GoldenRetriever

popularity scale.

After negotiating 50 miles of paved roads, and enduring 20 miles of dirt roads badly

torn up by logging trucks, we bounce up to one of our favorite spots. We'reall alone

out here. No big surprise. What sort of idiot would be out in 40 degree; rainy, nasty

weather? Just *us* idiots, that's who! This is indeed "Golden" weather, according to

our dogs! Nothing beats mud, rain, and cold. Puddles to roll in. Deer poop for snacks.

Run full speed, water cooled by the rain. They love it. This particular spot harbors

Golden Chanterelles; one of our favorite edible mushrooms. So, we have Golden dogs, and

we're after Golden Mushrooms. Might I mention a few similarities between our dogs and

these mushrooms, other than the obvious--both Golden?

1. Mushrooms will not come when called. Sort of like Earnie. You have to go get them.

Mushrooms never run away from you, though.

2. Prepared properly, with lots of garlic and a bit of cooking sherry, they're

delicious.

3. Dogs and mushrooms are usually filthy after being in the woods.

Mushroom picking was excellent! Michael even scored a Sporassis crispa--one of the best

edible wild mushrooms known to man or beast. It's quite rare, this is the first one

we've found in 2 years that insects hadn't destroyed before we got to it. Ate the whole

thing for dinner. Delicious!

The dogs all revert into "wild things" when they're loose in the forest. Run around

like crazy. Dig, roll, chew up sticks, try to run past you on the trail with huge limbs

in their mouths. Knock you down. Gee, what fun--? By the time we get ready to go home,

everything is covered with mud. The truck. The dogs. Us. Ugh! The downside of play--you

gotta pay!

We get home. Can't turn the dogs loose in the house. Mud puppies! Put them in the back

yard, get out the hose. Becky; AKA **The Wonder Dog**-- **likes** her bath! She jumps up

into the sheep trough we elevate on some saw-horses in the driveway. Great dog! Peggy

Sue won't jump in the tub, but she too, doesn't mind being bathed. The "ladies" are used

to it. The girls get bathed. Two down. Now for the boy--! My "Son"; the Earnster-- has

never appreciated being bathed. Sort of puts up with it, if he can't escape. It sucks

when he escapes. Soap covered dog, running amok. Bummer. He strenuously objects to a

bath when he's tired; as he is today. I open the gate and tell him "into the tub"! Ha!

Silly me! He's outa here! Trots right past the tub, up the driveway. Heads over to the

neighbors house. Guess he thinks the neighbor will protect him from the bath-monster.

Take him in for the night. Doesn't work. Neighbor ain't dumb. Doesn't want this

mud-coated disaster of a dog. Neighbor brings the little turd home. Poor Earnie. He

won't look at me. Has that "I'm screwed" look in his eyes. It's a conspiracy! He was

right. He got his bath. They all smell better. Gotta love 'em--??

Becky [Hey, bathing is good! Dad even used warm water today! Felt good! Lighten up,

Earn!]

Peggy Sue [I'd really rather just stink, but hey, if you want to bathe me, let's get

this over with.]

Earnie [No way, dude. I'm leaving home if you try bathing me. Catch me if you can. I

know! I'll go see the neighbor! He won't bathe me!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

My Golden "son"; Earnie found another reason to cover his rear today. It had nothing to

do with anal glands, or Professor Expresser, either. Took the boy into a pet store we

had never been in before. Big old funky place. He did a whole lot of sniffing before we

got inside. Once inside, I discovered why. Place was stacked floor to ceiling with

shelves. That didn't bother him. What got his *full* attention was--cats! Not one or

two, mind you--this person does cat & dog rescue. There had to be 40 cats in that place.

All loose. On top of the shelves, on the counters--! Earnie has never been around cats.

We can't have them because the local Coyote population considers them a delicacy. Not

only were there lots of these cats, they were *very friendly* cats. Rubbed against his

legs. Sniffed his rear. Poor Earnie, he stood there absolutely frozen in place, eyes the

size of saucers. The longer he stood in one place, the more cats came down to greet him.

Soon he was literally surrounded by cats. Overload. He sat down submissively. Pretty

quick he figured out the cats weren't going to get him. Then, the huge Macaw Parrot in

the corner began screeching. A dog crawled out from under the counter to greet him. I

think the only critter not accounted for in that store was a Siamese Water Weasel.

Earnie thought we were at the zoo. In true Golden style, he handled the situation very

well. No growling, soon his tail even began to wag. We bought him a toy for being such a

good boy! Man, am I glad we didn't take Becky in there. All the cats would have been

near the ceiling, all the shelves upside down, and we'd have likely made the

local news.

Becky [Cats??? Where? Earnie you stink like--CATS! Where are they? Gotta chase 'em!]

Peggy Sue [Wow, Earnie, you smell funny. Where ya been?]

Earnie [I tell ya, they were all around me, and they had knives and forks, and they

looked hungry, and then this huge bird started squawking--hey, I'm just happy to be in

one piece. Whew!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Naturally I simply have to reply to the anal sac thread. After all, I'm the expert. I

can express 'em with the best of you. Sorry to hear about the mess on the bed, but

that's what you get if you don't occasionally sneak up behind your dog and give those

stinkers a squeeze. Preferably outside. At the neighbors place. And hey, never, **ever**

scare a loaded dog. Tough lesson to learn, wasn't it? Here at our house, the act of

"expression" has been perfected for years. I'm now into the "aiming" phase. This only

works with certain dogs. If you're lucky, the glands will merely dribble when expressed.

Now, I find this to be true with both the girls, Peggy Sue and Becky. Might be a girl

thing, dribbling. Need more research. Dribbling is a mixed blessing, however. It leaves

you with a big clean-up job as now the feathers around the buttock area smell like you

kicked a skunk. You probably have this charming essence on your hands, too. You *did*

remember the rubber gloves, right?

Now, for the Earnster. My "son". He does everything in a big way. Before he was

"tutored" he used to hump the couch. High ideals. So it is with his anal sacs. They

don't dribble. They squirt. Imagine my surprise upon discovering this for the first

time. Hunkered down behind the dog, concentrating--give a little squeeze--and splat! Not

a pretty sight. Or smell. Thank doG I wear glasses. That was a good shirt I burned, too.

One thing about this type of lesson. You learn fast. No need for review. Never again

will any portion of my anatomy be behind a dog while performing the fine art of

"expression". As with all things, I pondered this. The fact that his glands squirt a

stream for 6 feet should be useful. Should be able to do something clever, like invite

friends over to stand behind him, have a beer or two and say "hey, watch this"! Problem

is, they're mostly wise to me. Also, most of them have guns. Darn. Anyway, I discovered

through trial and error, mostly the latter--that it's possible with a little wrist

English to direct the stream in a certain direction. Michael is wise to this, BTW. Gives

us a wide berth. Now I have to figure out what to do with this new skill. I also need a

name for it. Could become as big a sport as Agility. Less training, too. I'm sure I can

aim well enough to hit a container. Anybody have a use for a few ounces of this stuff?

The Elections are over.

Becky [Got bathed yesterday. Got squeezed, too. I smell nice!]

Peggy Sue [I sorta like the smell of that stuff. Goes good with Lawn Tacos. Better'n

catsup!]

Earnie [Served ya right when I got ya. Pretty stupid, standing back there like that! You

gotta watch that third eye, guy--!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Just a quick note to let those of you unfortunate enough to be living along the N.

California Coast know you had better not wash your cars for a few days. Do not hang your

laundry outside. Wear a baseball cap at all times while outside in an uncovered area.

Try to avoid looking up for a few days. Why? Well, because we leave in the morning for

the S. Oregon Coast; and we're taking *all* the dogs. We will be traveling in a N to S

direction. What this means; of course, is that all but the bravest and dumbest Sea Birds

will be assisted in relocation by my Becky, The Red Scourge of Seagulls, Sandpipers, and

anything else with wings. What's worse is that Earnie is now fully grown, and very fast,

and follows Becky blindly in most endeavors. Double Trouble, if you're a Seagull. Peggy

Sue; ever the smart one, will once again sit at her human's feet and watch the two idiot

dogs wear each other out chasing birds. Peggy Sue and I discussed this, and she says

that just as soon as one of the other dogs actually catches a bird, she'll join in the

chase. Her thinking is the odds are that'll be about the same time Pigs sprout wings and

head South for the winters. "Show me the Bird!!"--- Peggy Sue's words to her siblings.

Once again we apologize to those of you whose laundry is soiled, or to those of you

foolish enough to look toward the sky to check on the commotion. By Saturday, you should

be able to venture forth safely once again.

Becky [I'm gonna chase ALL the birds so far down the Coast they'll have to follow 101 to

get home!]

Earnie [With me helping ya, I bet they need bus tickets to find their way home! Ya-Hoo!]

Peggy Sue [Chasing birds is stupid, denigrating, far beneath my dignity and a waste of

time. I'm looking for something useful to do. Now, eating poop, or rolling in a dead

bird, there's a couple of things I can get my teeth into! I love the beach! Are we gonna

go in those sand dunes where Becky found the deer last year? That was a real chase, I

gotta tell ya!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; Peggy Sue; Pixie,

Lover

of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA