Varmint revenge

I had thought that things had gone pretty well at home while I was gone. There were of course many things that needed catching up on.

I knew the Dogs had missed me, but the cat was a surprise.

On the surface things seemed to be just fine. One of my little "Old English banties" had hatched four chicks in the garden among the radishes just before I got back.

 As usual with these types she was insecure with babies among all the giant Buff Orphingtons, so she was hiding outside with them at night.

 I also noticed that the Pigeons were not eating all their food. Deer were trashing all the trees in the yard. I also noticed some quite large Pack Rat turds scattered all over the back porch. On the face of things, all was in fair shape, just needing a bit of my personal attention to return things to normal.

The Deer showed up in the early afternoon of the first day home. So I did a bunch of yelling and firing a shotgun over their heads. They didn't seem to be too impressed, so when they got out about 80 yards, I lowered my aim. They finally moved off, although reluctantly. The next afternoon about 5 PM here they come again. Four Does walking up the hill headed for the house. I got the shotgun and again shouted and fired the shot gun over their heads. Same evening back again, so this time I burned a few of them. Next day here they come again as if it was all a mistake. All in all it took 5 times with me progressively peppering them with shot, before they finally seemed to take me serious. It finally got to the point that I had a hard time keeping from dropping the lead doe permanently. Its a good thing that Karen had already put a Deer in the freezer. I finally was apparently able to convince the Does that the place was off limits. This morning while standing outside searching the area for the Coyote that I fed the last coons to, I saw this Buck down by the creek.

 It is the peak of the rut for Deer. To say they get a bit distracted from the normal world is a bit generous. The dogs and I were standing in plain sight by the pool, and he walked to within 50 yards of us, only leaving because Brick began barking at him while I was getting the camera.

Now for the Pack Rat. I baited the "Gangplank with a fresh half of an apple, then proceeded to winterize the place as we seemed to be on a fast track to cold weather. The Fifth wheel went pretty well, I blew out the lines, dumped the black and grey tanks, emptied the hot water heater, then flushed the lines with RV antifreeze. Blew out the sprinkler system and insulated the distribution lines.

Then I discovered that the reason that the pigeons weren't eating all their food was actually due to the fact that I only had 12 birds left.

When I opened the loft, I found only bones and feathers. The Raccoons had killed all but 12 birds that were not sleeping in the loft because it was so crowded. I estimate that they killed over 70 birds total. They also killed the mother hen and her babies. Now there are traps covering the entry area, with another 1/2 dozen "dog Proof" traps coming. I will be running a trap line for Coons this fall. Its too bad they aren't worth something as furs.

I checked the water trap the next morning and found that the apple half was totally gone, but no Rat.

 This happened for three nights. I finally began to wonder if it was actually a Rat, or something else taking the apple off the bait wire. I decided to put the trail camera out there to make sure. The rascal was walking the edge of the tub and eating the Apple right off a 12 inch welding rod. Unfortunately I erased the disc, but it was for sure a Pack Rat, and a HUGE one at that. This one was a trophy, so I retrieved one of my Hava Hart traps. That proved to be her downfall, and she woke me up the next morning rattling around in the trap. I put her out in the hanger to keep the dogs away from her.

I decided that this one would go on my wall, so I needed to keep the hide in as good shape as I could, so guns, and dogs were out of the question. The quad and a spare vacuum hose solved the problem.

After running the engine for about five minutes I melted the vacuum hose, so I cut a slit in the bag to see how the Rat was doing. She wasn't, she had fortunately succumbed to the fumes nicely.

The sucker was as big as an Eastern Grey Squirrel. I have spent the last three days tanning her pelt. Soon he will join my other trophies on the wall.

I have finally got Jessie down in weight to the point that we can start training. I flew her to the lure on a creance last Friday. Today she was close enough to her weight that I turned her loose. She is pretty weak, but seemed to enjoy the chance to fly. When I threw the lure, she struck it three times, just to show that she could I guess.

I was quite pleased, she is acting better than she has in years. Her manners are as close to perfect, as Jessie ever gets. She came to the fist with no hesitation, every thing was perfect. I decided to give her an entire quail since I wouldn't be flying her for another two days. Then she freaked me out by not being able to hold the entire quail. I have never seen that before. I have seen her eat almost an entire Pigeon. Now I will worry for the next two days that something is the matter with her.

Temporary insanity

I guess it all began when I didn't get much in the way of Fire Calls this summer. Goodness knows every thing in the West was either on fire or going to be on fire. My company, for what ever reason, got almost none of the calls for Water Tenders. I admit I was a bit frustrated. My bags were all packed, and I could be on my way in less that an hour. No one called.

I had wanted to get a Sauna for the place here, it seemed like the perfect addition for those cold winter nights and evenings. Finely, I got a call for Northern Nev. and spent about four days. Netting about $1100. Things were looking up. The Sauna's went on sale and they had the one that I wanted for $900. 00 off. Its a sale, right? So I jumped on it, and soon had it together and installed in the Shop.

 All that worked out great, but I was still a $1000.00 in the hole. I wanted at least another job to finish paying for the thing. That led to me volunteering for other work that the company is doing. He is always short handed and having difficulty to find someone who would work. Something that I always find amazing, but not too surprising since it appears to be easier to get "free" money than it is to work for it.

Well it just so happened that he had a contract to "treat" about 724 acres of mixed Juniper and Pinion Pine forest. By treat, I mean to grind up enough trees so that they were spaced out about 30 feet apart. Basically a park type setting. I assume it is to slow any fires that might come that way, nothing is for sure however as there is really no rime or reason visible to the naked eye as to its real purpose.

This was to be accomplished with a couple of machines that are realistically "tree mowers".

This is the one that I ran.

This is what the forest is supposed to look like after we were done. The shredded areas used to be trees.

Some of it was pretty easy, as it was mostly Sage, the rest could go to 

thick, "dog hair thickets".  Lower down, the trees were fairly small.

Higher on the hill, to large formidable trees.

So we began getting every thing ready the 9th of October. Three days of hauling machinery and setting up camp.

The camp is at 6500 feet altitude. Every thing went well for a week, and by working 10 hour days, we were making some headway. Then on the 6th day of work the belts that powered the grinding head burned up. I will admit, that it was my fault. Bad technique I guess. Well that took about three days to fix, so I went home until they fixed it. The drive is 7 hours, so its nothing that I really am interested in doing on a regular basis if I can help it.

I went back on the 21st and met the new guy, who took the Boss's place, while he went to Colorado to work on another project. The idea was for the two of us to compete as much of the project as we could before the weather set in and stopped work. Kenny Smith is a rancher that has worked for EC (boss) for years and is very good at it, but doesn't work all that often. He mostly does Fire Boss work in the summer, and spends the rest of his time working on his ranch. I guess he too thought he needed some cash.

Kenny, being a Cowboy also prefers to cook with a campfire. My own particular motto is " patience my ass, I'm going to kill something", I preferred my gas griddle, but what the heck, never insult the cook. Even with a bit of Sage brush thrown in to flavor the fire, I have to admit he did well. 

The weather of course kept getting a bit colder, but nothing really out of the normal range of comfort for a coat or jacket. My machine apparently has a hole in the heater core, so I had to glean whatever heat I could get out of the air conditioner side of the set up. If I tried to use the  heater, the entire cab would fog up and I couldn't see a thing. As you might imagine with a whirling grinding wheel about 6 feet across and carbide teeth all over it, dust could be a bit of a problem. Visibility is a premium and a necessity. Windshield cleaning was a regular feature of work.

I had worked my way quite high up the hill and came on a great Pinion tree. It towered over all the other trees around it, and was crowned with lots of cones.

I guess the Pinion only has cones every third year??

Apparently this is the year.

These are where the seeds are. Notice the yellow at the ends of the cone "leaves", that is pitch. Lots of it! The area supported a lot of Ravens, Pinion Jays and Ravens. I only saw about 15 Jack Rabbits, two Coyotes, and six Cows. Nothing else there.

I noticed a skull over to the side of the Tree.

A wild boar! I was amazed, but I learned later that there were a few of them in the country.

The interesting part is the 30 cal bullet hole between his eyes. Its a bit low,  but it was just high enough in the head to at least shock his brain and stop him. A very good thing for the shooter, Pigs really get pissed if you shoot them in the sinuses.

One good thing about the work, is that I had no time to take a nap. I got up at 5:30 in the morning, ran outside, started the generator, then perked a pot of coffee, made a lunch and breakfast.  Work until 5 PM, fix dinner, read and try to stay awake until at least 9 PM and do it all again. I had cell service, barely, and thanks to a cell booster that I bought for $325.00, was able to get emails and call out. Its worth it to be able to talk to Karen on a regular basis. That way both of us could rest easy knowing that every thing was OK.

Then last Sat. my cell phone began dumping to a non existent voice mail, or just cutting off after two rings. The only place that I couldn't call was home. I could send an email however and could request Karen to call me. I spent one entire evening talking to Verizon and three days later I could again use my phone to call home.

We had gotten almost all of the easy stuff "treated" and then my machine again broke down. This time, it wasn't my fault, just general maintenance.

One of the problems that I was having was my left knee began hurting, bad! As the result of an old motor cycle injury in 1970, I had over the years developed a bit of Arthritis in it. Somehow working on the machine aggravated it so badly that it was swollen up and I had trouble walking or much of anything else. I was using a heating pad along with Ben gay and aspirin. None of it helped.,

Karen and the dogs came to visit on the 27th. and I took half of a day off. We had a good time and she went home on the 28th. Two hours into my shift the seal on one of the hydraulic heads went out. I limped back to camp, and after notifying the Boss, spent the rest of the day sight seeing. The day was a bit of a bust any way. It began raining after noon and there was snow on the higher parts of the job. 

I visited the town Of Eureka Nev, and just drove around a bit. The next morning after talking with the boss, learned that it would probably take a week to get parts for the machine and to get it repaired. I elected to pack up and come on home. It is only going to get miserable, and more difficult as the month wears on. I was afraid to leave the trailer there for a week, with no one in it to keep it from freezing up. I just checked the forecast, up to 7 inches of snow by Monday. Time to go home. I had 128 hours, going to have to be enough.

It had been raining all morning, with a few snow flakes mixed in. The clouds were hanging just above camp, and the area that I broke down in had a skiff of snow on it.

The Mountains were all covered on their upper slopes.

On my drive home, I could finely see where the clouds part, and where all our rain goes. This is McDermitt, Nev. right on the border. If you will notice to the right is rain falling behind McDermitt, and to the left rain is falling on the Oregon Canyon Mt's. In the middle it is basically clear, and right in the middle is where our house is 49 miles north.

An evening in the hot tub, does wonders for sore knees. I even managed a good nights sleep in my own bed, and even though I was still grinding trees in my sleep, I woke to a new day, a new promise.

This is the sunrise that I was blessed with as the sun rose.

Its kinda nice to be home again. I think I will give retirement a try- again.

Varmints aftermath

I had thought that I had gotten by easy, and the Coons hadn't had that much time to cause problems. I was wrong. What you see is only what they didn't eat. The birds on the floor would have provided Jessie with enough food for 20 days. Its hard to say how much 4 Raccoon's can eat at one sitting. So it is likely that they consumed a couple of months of Jessie's food supply.

I raise Pigeons for Hawk food, and because I have always had Pigeons. I don't seem to know how to stop raising them. They are about the best food available for a Falcon. There is enough there for two meals, and the meat is high in all the things that a high energy raptor needs. The bones are tough enough that they will help keep the birds beak in good shape as well as keeping the back muscles in tone. Too much soft food is not good for them. They need to tear and pull to get their food.

Ahh well, such is life in the high desert. I cannot blame the predators for trying. That is one of the realities of living here. I am up to the task, and willing to accept the risk.

2015 Fly-in and Varmints

Our fly-in this year was mostly in name only. It was really more of a "Friend reunion". John Hauck and Nell drove out in the spring, They ended up staying a while so Nell could recuperate from a fall that she took off the trailer steps. They then toured Alaska until it started getting cool, then came back to the house for the fly-in. Boyd Young drove out, because of vacation restraints and iffy weather for his return. Karen's niece Mici took the train and Mike was kind enough to take her for some rides in the cub. Toby had a run in with a tree while his plane was on a trailer, and had to turn back. Mike Marker and Jan flew in with a new Carbon Cub, and Roger trailered over. These folks are the core of the group, and every body else was occupied with other commitments. While we missed them, it was a much easier and relaxed time for Karen and I.

We had a few good days, and then the weather that Boyd was worried about came in, so we relaxed and just enjoyed each others company. Every body has slowly trickled back to their homes. The last, John and Nell, left Yesterday to continue on with their slow travel back to Alabama. We all had a great time, and Karen and I really enjoyed each and every one of them.

Over the last week or so, I noticed that I was losing baby Chicks. After a lot of trouble and three setting hens, I had managed to get four Aracuna chicks to hatch. My old Roster is infertile, so I had to depend on Tammi for hatching eggs. The Chicks although pretty good sized begin to disappear. Then the other day  I saw where a varmint had grabbed and carried off one of my older hens. I am actually missing three Buff Orphington full grown Chickens and three young chicks. Of course my first thought was Coyote. There have been a bunch of pups hanging around the place, and I thought that one of them was sneaking into the yard and grabbing them. I  noticed today that the nest that one of my hens had been setting, and left four addled eggs in, was now empty. Brick was sniffing around the area pretty intensely. I now know that he was smelling the Coons and the left overs from the rotten eggs.

I have been watching pretty close but haven't seen anything until today. Josie my little female Brittney, is my eyes. Her vision is much more dependable than mine. She doesn't bark, she just "Uff's" when she sees something. She is a great watch dog, and is so much more valuable to me because she doesn't go nuts and run around barking and scaring every thing off. She just watches and alerts me to potential problems. She has slowly become so much more valuable because of this trait. She warns of of Snakes, chases off the Harriers and Ravens if they get too close, and now seems to be developing into a "seeing Eye Dog" for her apparently rapidly aging owner.

This evening we were sitting outside by the hot tub enjoying the evening, when she began to "Uff Uff" while looking across the creek. I got the bino's and looked and looked, but could see nothing. Finally I expanded my search and saw the Coyote that I had been looking for, going up the Creek. By the time I got ready to shoot him, he was out of sight up the creek.

The sun set had lit up the few clouds that we had, with their full colors, and I took a few pictures of them.

I stayed outside and read until it begin to get dark. I then locked up the Chickens against the varmints, and gathered up the dogs to go inside. Josie was sitting in her regular spot on the couch, and I had walked over to close the door. She began "Uffing" again while sitting on the couch. She wouldn't quit either. I let both of the dogs out, told her to show me what she was upset about, but Brick, ( aptly named, due to the thickness of his lovable head) kept trying to get her to play. Eventually I saw something in the Elm Tree that didn't belong. When the smoke cleared these are the responsible parties to my Chicken losses.

I owe the Coyotes an apology apparently. I have had more Chicken and Pigeon losses to these guy's than I care to remember. They are relentless once they discover a food source. Its too bad for both of us, but there can only be one outcome, I just got them before they did too much damage this time.  It is normally much more difficult and I usually have to resort to traps to get rid of them. Of course I would prefer to not have to kill a mother and pups, but sometimes there is no recourse. A couple of years ago one actually tore a hole in the roof of the Pigeon house to get to the birds inside.  Perhaps now things will settle down a bit.

Fire camp and irrevent observations!

Things have been a little slow on the fire front, at least the part where I get to make money. The rest of the West seems to be burning down around us. They just didn't see fit to call out the company that I work for.

First, let me say that the most hazardous part of the job for me personally, is going to sleep while driving all over to get to little podunk places that mostly no one other than locals have ever heard of. In the middle of the night mostly. The worst thing that you can hear is, " You can't miss it". Perhaps I am unusually talented in that area, because it seems all too easy for me to actually do that. At least I will worry that I will indeed do it for several hours driving on strange roads with headlights that are much too dim to be able to see all the things that one needs to see.

My last and first trip this year was to a little place called Cold Springs, Nevada. It consists of a sometimes open, combination store, restaurant,Motel, RV park. All in one building. If you punch it in to a GPS it directs you to a spot that is at least 125 miles away.

My truck is a 3800 gallon Kenworth water tender. It is a good truck, only 18 years old, and it runs like a scalded cat, tracks good on the little roads. However the headlights are somewhat dim or perhaps its my eyes that are dim. Its tough to see unless it is really dark. The area that I went to fits that description to a tee. Its called the "Loneliest road in Nevada". Nevada has the worst road signs and the smallest mile markers of anywhere I have ever been. I checked coming back home in the daylight and I still couldn't read them at highway speeds. So the entire trip was a guessing game. I brought my GPS with me, but handily forgot the power cord so the battery went dead before I left the main hwy. If not for my cell phone and its map application, I might still be looking for smoke.

I have a "kit" that I keep ready in the shop. All I need to do is add in my personal bag and I am ready to go. Tent, Cot, a little ammo can that holds a stove, coffee, aspirin, and so on. Of course we never get a call during the middle of the day. ( If called after hours, the BLM only has to pay half of a day.) This one came in at 4 pm. I tossed all my stuff in the truck and headed to Winnemucca Nv. where the truck is headquartered. Provisioned it and headed towards my job site. I finally arrive at my first turn in Battle Mountain at 10:30 at night, and remembered that I didn't bring my sleeping bag. There are no sleeping bags available at that time of night in Battle Mtn. The only thing open was a "Dollar Store". The only thing close to what I needed was some comforters and some "Micro Fleece" blankets. ( I think that is code for blanket fuzz.) I bought two fleece, a pillow, and the comforter. All were quite reasonable. Most likely because the objects were so bright and flashy that no other store could sell them, only the desperate. Mine was large pink flowers. Luckily it was dark when I used them.

I arrived at 12:30 AM and finally managed to put my tent up, and turn in to get some sleep. Up at 5:45 AM and check in at the IC. I was assigned to provide water for the Heli tac unit. They had two light Heli's and one medium consisting of a Huey H model. Each had a 100 foot circle that we needed to keep wet to keep the dust down. There were two of us assigned, so our only problem was to get enough water to accomplish that. The BLM had found a rancher that allowed them to dig a couple of ponds and divert a spring creek (Probably the very one that the area was named after) into them so that we could fill our trucks out of them. Mud holes really. Once we got the water situation solved it was pretty easy. A heli would lift off and we would water the circle that they had been using.

The fire was back up in the Mountains quite a distance away. I never even saw smoke from the fire the whole time I was there. The Heli crews were providing support for the hotshot crews that were posted out on the fire lines. They would ferry the 21 person crews in to the fire lines and then provide them with support in the way of supplies and food. Occasionally hot food. In three and half days I worked 47 hours.

The way that this works is that they send in a crew to begin to set things up. Then the contractors arrive as well as the hot shot crews, that do the ground grunt work. As the fire either progresses more and more people and crews arrive. When they can get a fire line around the actual fire to the point that it is "contained" then the crews that are not needed are released to either go home or to other fires. At that point another group will do what ever rehabilitation that is needed.

Fire camp is pretty interesting. The fire crews are made up of young guys and gals that are very tough and very interesting. Tough beyond belief. There are "hot shot"crews made up from the various Indian tribes, Some of them are from various BLM and Forest Service's and a few that are inmates that have had the option of earning some "good time". They have it the toughest, because of the restrictions put on them. They can't smoke, chew and they always answer with a Sir, Or Ma'am. They stay to themselves. However to me the most interesting are the crews with the girls on them. Perhaps two sometimes only one girl, and she is just as filthy dirty as any of the guys. You know then that she isn't just a pretty face there for support. They work just as hard as any of the guy's, neither asking or giving any quarter. They may or may not lack the delicate grace of the local beauty queen, but they have what it takes to stand with you, come hell or high water. My choice any day.

Almost everything is contracted out. Water tenders, Helicopters, Cats, even the toilets and a guy to clean them. The kitchens are generally inmates cooking and serving the food. You have never seen more respectful behavior. They try their hardest to earn the privilege of working on the fires. I think I heard some one say that they got $3.00 a day. Every one that I saw beamed with pride if you complimented them or their work.

Unlike most Govt. job holders, most of these guy's and gals seem to be pretty competent, and professional. Of course there are some that are not, but on the whole the only idiots are a lot higher up than the line people.

For the water tender part of the fire work, it seems mostly to be that we are there on conjecture. If we are supporting fire crews, they will station a tender as close to a fire as is safe but handy. The objective is to refill the "Engines" that actually go out on the line either putting out spot fires, or refilling the "piss cans" that the crew wears on their back. A tender may sit there for 14 hours and not deliver any more than a couple of hundred gallons of water. One of our tenders that went out to a fire in June did not give any water to anyone the whole time he was at the fire.

Working with the Heli tac crew was pretty steady work. We could wet about three pads before we ran out of water. It took me 55 minutes to refill with water and get back. By that time the other tender would be out of water and be on his way to fill up. I liked that better than just trying to stay awake.

The fire was back in country that was so rough that they were sending in crews and dropping them off for 24 hours to dig the fire lines around the fires. We were sending them the supplies that they needed to accomplish that.

  https://vimeo.com/136967817    password-  owyheeflyer

This is one of the French "A Stars". The first load out was just a normal load on a short line. The second was to an area that was very dusty, so the loads were sent out on a long line. The video's were taken on my cell phone.

The camp was in a field that had dust about ankle deep. It was hot and sweaty. They placed Porta Potties at various distances around the field. I am not sure how many of you have ever had the "pleasure" of using one. Don't get me wrong, they can be a life saver, but just like sex, after it is over, one has time to think. If they are kept clean, there is little stink, depending on how hot it is, and how many people are using it. They are crowded and have a tendency to rock around on most fire camp ground. Not a good thing if they are pretty full. They are mostly (at least the ones that they get for fires) dark green, which is a color designed by nature to absorb sunlight to make things grow. The TP holder is on the left side, and a plastic trough or receptacle is on the right for guy's to stand up and urinate in. The best have an open weave plastic floor so that the "dribbles" don't soil your pants when you drop them.

I have spent a lot of time ( can't help myself, but to wonder at the workings of other peoples minds ) wondering about the rational of supplying toilet paper that you are guaranteed to stick your finger through if there is less than 3 layers of said paper. My belief is that it is thought to save money by buying the crap paper that no one else will. ( It is not my intention to be indelicate here, but to examine the foibles of the mind.) I am very picky about the TP that we buy. I prefer that my hand washing after the fact be more of a healthy habit than a necessity. On the whole I generally use about a three feet piece of TP at home, on the job you could be talking about 10 feet or more. Is the institutional stuff actually three times cheaper than something that works?

The next thing that drives me crazy is to just slap something together that has no thought to the lay out or the ergonomics of the thing. You know- work smart, and all that. It is my opinion that most of the population is right handed, and even if you are not Muslim you will still wipe your butt with your left hand. That action requires that you lean to the right and a bit forward to access the affected parts. This means that your nose is very close to that urinal that I mentioned earlier. If you flinch and pull back- skid marks! I wonder if there is any call for Porta Potty designers?

"Plum Betsy"

Losing Pets is always hard, and Betsy is no exception. She was our first Pointer. Prior to her arrival we had Britney's, and a Setter. The country that I had always hunted in was too close for such a far ranging dog, but since I was due to retire, all that would be changing. It was my intention to spend a lot of my retirement in the Desert, where a Pointer would be best suited.

Randy Carnahan's nephew had some pups from a dog that they optimistically called a "walking Pointer" meaning that you might be able to keep up with them on foot. So at 7 weeks of age she joined our pack.

Unfortunately the Setter (Indy ) was a bit of an imprint, so Betsy's life was a lot harder than it had to be. She really never learned to play. Every time she tried, the Setter snapped at her, so she was a bit stunted socially. I cannot say how much was Setter induced, or just genetically caused. Still she was a loving pup, with a nose that could not be believed.

With a little training, a shock collar with a mile range and a call button she soon learned to stay within sight while she was hunting. She never required a shock, the buzz of the call was enough.

In 2006 we moved to the Desert in a location that she could be free. Most of my hunting is with a Falcon, but we did do a bit of gun work occasionally and her nose and pointing ability made her a joy to work with. Her main value to me and where she shined the most was hunting with Jessie the falcon. Deserts are notorious for their Eagle populations, and the danger that they represent to a Falcon cannot be underestimated. Betsy loved hunting with Jessie and when Jessie took something to the ground Betsy was not far behind. She would guard her back while I was lumbering my way to them. I could always count on her to be with Jessie, and to protect her.

On one such trip Jessie decided that she wanted to kill a Goose. She knocked it to the ground alright. I was about three hundred yards away up on a hill. When I arrived, Jessie was off the Goose on the ground backed up against a small bank. The Goose was standing in front of her about three feet away with its wings spread to its full 6 foot, and Betsy was running around behind the Goose barking and distracting it. My arrival caused the Goose to try to fly away. Betsy was chasing it and Jessie took off and grabbed it by the head. Without Betsy, none of this would have happened and Jessie would have likely been injured.

At that same pond we once flushed a flock of Swans. Jessie disappeared and while I was looking for her, I could see Betsy about a 1/4 to 1/2 mile away circling the Swan on the ground. Through binoculars I could see Jessie stooping and diving at it while Betsy was keeping it distracted. Thankfully Jessie finally decided that it might be a bit too big, and broke off. Somehow Betsy kept up with the flight and was there to help if she was needed.

Of course she wasn't always sweetness and light and there were times that I could have willingly strangled her. At some time in the development of this breed, they were bred for guard and fighting dogs, so at the least little thing she would bark, making me jump out of my skin, but she had my best interest in mind.

As I said its always hard to lose a pet companion, but she gave us 11 years of love and service, and although there are tears on this keyboard, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. 

She is buried down by the Creek with Curly (Britney ) and Blue ( Siamese and Ragdoll Cat ) She was a "Good Girl"!