At the Ranch / Laurel's Stories

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"Little Howler"

When Shasta was little (ha), I could induce him to howl pretty easily, especially early am and dusk, by howling myself. I'm pretty good at it (as far as I can tell). He won't fall for that now, except once in a blue moon early in the am while he and I are lying around in bed tussling and yawning and making those yawning-croaky-whiny sounds you make just as you get up [and don't really want to BE UP yet].

I try a little growly noise that becomes a little yelp, followed by a little howl. He responds the same, without the howl. I howl again and follow with a growly sound. Then he may actually tilt head back (like in your Dunn logo shot) and let out a moderately serious howl.

The best, though, is when sirens go by. We live really close to an interstate... Lots of sirens, day and night.

If it's close/loud enough (I haven't determined his criteria for this yet), he tilts back, forms a perfect "O" with his lips (a la Garry Larson), and lets loose a long, loud, slow, hooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwlll. To which My black dog (Cassie) adds her surprisingly baritone shorter howls. To which Pecos adds stacatto bass barks in triplets. To which I add my mezzo-soprano-to-alto slow howls.

What a BLAST!!!

What do other people do to have quality time? I wonder.

The baby photo of Shasta (seen above) was taken when he was 6 weeks old, on the first day in his new home with Laurel. He is now almost 2 years old, and is quite the handsome young wolfdog.

"The M&M Caper"

I got up around 1:30-2:00am in the morning a couple of days ago to get a drink. Since 115-120 lb Shasta and 45 lb Cassie [dog] always sleep on the bed (actually, they ALLOW me to scrunch in as best as I can...), I had to take the long way around to the bedroom door.

Just as I reached the end of the bed, I stepped on what seemed to me to be buttons - dozens of little, slick buttons. I waddled over to the light switch and turned it on. Since I became Mac-fluent, I have had to wear bifocals. I can't see great without them, especially in 2am-eyes in the semi-light. I saw little red and green buttons, all over the rug. And a big glass jar.....

Oh, sh!t. I had bought 2lb. of Xmas M&Ms and put them in this tall, heavy French canning jar (you know, the type with the gadget that "locks" it???). I had [dumbly] shared a couple of the little delicacies with Shasta before going to bed. I do deserve credit for placing the jar high up on a counter, far to the back, where "he could never reach it without waking the dead."

I guess I am writing this now from the Underworld... My Adorable Boy apparently loped into the kitchen when he heard my breathing indicate that I was in theta if not delta sleep state ... got up onto the counter (!??!?!?) and took the Large French Canning Jar (3lb. all by itself) with the 2lb. of M&Ms in it into his baby mouth, and silently trode back to the bedroom (so that Mommy would find the remains of The Deed later). Here he proceeded to open the jar and then to dislocate its special gadget, so that it could not be used quickly to deter his desires in the future. When I found The Deed, only a 1/2 cup or so of the M&Ms were left.

My carpet in the same location now reminds me of Joseph and the Multicolored Coat. Mostly, however, it is green and red.

Well, what's a girl to do? I confiscated the goodies, locked them up in a bathroom until daybreak, got my drink, and chuckled myself to sleep. [Please, don't anyone admonish me about the dangers of chocolate with canines - I am MORE than aware of this...] About 3:15-3:30am, Mr. Shaz was rolling this way and that on the bed. He finally got up, sauntered into the other room for a drink himself, came back, heaved himself onto the rug by the fireplace, then got up and walked over to me in bed and stood nose-to-nose, about 10 inches away. I opened one eye and asked if he "Wanted To Go Out?" in my cheeriest voice. He stared at me, as if to say, "HELLO!!!!"

I let him out the back door. He paced around for about two minutes, like he was checking things out. Then, as if he decided "to do it," he made that "HHHRRUUNNHH" sound about three times, and then hurled a mass of M&Ms. He must have heard me gasp and chuckle, because he delighted me with an encore, in just a matter of seconds.

Then he walked around for a minute or so, sniffing other spots. He looked for all the world as if he "Needed To See A Man About A Horse." When he was satisfied with his location, he squatted quickly and emitted --

******* those light of stomach, don't read any further *******

projectile diarrhea. After this was complete, he happily scratched the ground with gusto and trotted back to the door with That Wolfy Grin on his face. We returned to bed without further incident.

Moral of Story: There may be Child-Proof bottles, but NOTHING is Wolf-Proof...

Also, check out more photos of Shasta.

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