The boys got a ride in the blue truck so we could get their bikes back from the _______'s . We were all apprehensive because they've got some mean dogs. One is kept chained all the time. No matter how many times Carter visits and plays with the children there, these dogs would still attack, badly. I wouldn't own dogs like that. The truck had a 12" Sirupate in it for just such encounters. The gal who lives there is a nice lady, but keeps long hours and I don't think ever left being a teenager behind. She'll probably outlive me though, she don't worry. The dogs are there to keep the house safe for her, I guess, since Juan works before sunup to well after dark at a ranch and a restaurant. He quits one and starts cooking for the other. Hell of a guy. I like him. WE didn't know if she was awake or not at 3 PM, so we got out of the truck and walked around back.
I saw by the boy's posture where the dogs were. We knew they were chained. As I rounded the corner I saw Carter with his bike but Trav crying. The barking German Shepard was too much. He'd carved a half moon of dirt at the chain's limit, and the bike was about 6 feet from that. I was going to get it for him, honest; but Kathy came to the back door and smiling, went over and grabbed it for us. I took it out of her hands and we waved and drove home.
"Trav, I don't blame you a bit for crying. Don't even worry about it. It's OK, you can stop."
He looked at me gratefully.
"It makes sense to be afraid. Don't worry about it"
I knew damn well.
"When I was younger than you a Shepard just like that one broke his chain and knocked me down and bit me."
"Really Dad?"
"That's right."
Like I said; I can't see why anyone would want to own a dog that would hurt little kids.
We got home and unloaded. A storm was coming. It had been a weird day. Low clouds; fog, was blowing by in a strong wind. I've never seen fog hurried along like that.
When I went outside to see about the firewood, I heard the birds. All manner and numbers of them were chirping and putting on a show. IT was noisey. Every tree.
"Carter, come out here and see this."
We both listened. They were everywhere. There's some reason to be in the yard during a storm because we're against the rock cliff on the sheltered side of the canyon. I wondered if some of them weren't robins still not flown south. It was hard to see the birds, and noisey enough so individual chirps were hard to pick out.
Carter and I unloaded the rest of the wood from Beater Truck. We have some wood, much of it khuk felled and limbed, but not nearly enough.
I took a few pictures to get the feel of this day. Inside Keithy Keith was hiding in a box peeking out the window. Small animals are going to ground.
munk
I saw by the boy's posture where the dogs were. We knew they were chained. As I rounded the corner I saw Carter with his bike but Trav crying. The barking German Shepard was too much. He'd carved a half moon of dirt at the chain's limit, and the bike was about 6 feet from that. I was going to get it for him, honest; but Kathy came to the back door and smiling, went over and grabbed it for us. I took it out of her hands and we waved and drove home.
"Trav, I don't blame you a bit for crying. Don't even worry about it. It's OK, you can stop."
He looked at me gratefully.
"It makes sense to be afraid. Don't worry about it"
I knew damn well.
"When I was younger than you a Shepard just like that one broke his chain and knocked me down and bit me."
"Really Dad?"
"That's right."
Like I said; I can't see why anyone would want to own a dog that would hurt little kids.
We got home and unloaded. A storm was coming. It had been a weird day. Low clouds; fog, was blowing by in a strong wind. I've never seen fog hurried along like that.
When I went outside to see about the firewood, I heard the birds. All manner and numbers of them were chirping and putting on a show. IT was noisey. Every tree.
"Carter, come out here and see this."
We both listened. They were everywhere. There's some reason to be in the yard during a storm because we're against the rock cliff on the sheltered side of the canyon. I wondered if some of them weren't robins still not flown south. It was hard to see the birds, and noisey enough so individual chirps were hard to pick out.
Carter and I unloaded the rest of the wood from Beater Truck. We have some wood, much of it khuk felled and limbed, but not nearly enough.
I took a few pictures to get the feel of this day. Inside Keithy Keith was hiding in a box peeking out the window. Small animals are going to ground.
munk
