Cheeeeeken....Is For The Dogs

I boiled some chicken breasts today.

Not for us, but for the dogs.

Not really to eat, like for food, but for training.

That's how our trainer does it.  For reals.  And she's really good at what she does.  So, I like to continue what training she does, and implement her methods in the house after she's gone.  It works most of the time.

And Dex...will do anything for chicken.

So, I fix 2-3 breasts at a time, chop them up pretty fine, then freeze them.  Awesomeness.

One of her clients didn't like the trainer giving her dog chicken.  She thought her dog would get used to table food and not eat his dog food.

Our trainer had to remind her client that she wasn't feeding her dog chicken from the table, rather, she was using it to train, as a reward.

People.  They crack me up.

It's never boring around here.

Dogs Rule

Meet Bailey.

She’s a miniature schnauzer.

And we were blessed to babysit her for the night.

When she strutted in, she was like a pimpin'  Steven Tyler, pre-drug free days.  Wondering who she might conquer, and what she might destruct, all in short order. No mountain was too high, no valley too low, she had it faded.

I took one look at this bit of black fluff, and figured out I’d better get her bluff pretty darn quick or I would pay for it over the next 24 hours.  So I began to blow her mind.  With training, not drugs.  I know, you're still on the Steven Tyler line, aren't you?

Within an hour or two, she was sitting upon command, and downing upon command.  By the next round of training, I had her giving me 5 with one paw while sitting down.

She would retrieve a pig ear rawhide for me to throw again.

And before the night was out, she was asleep, upside down, in my arms.  

I’d better watch out.  She already knows how to order our favorite drinks at Starbucks.

 AND schmooze the Barista.

She’s so smart she’s already figured out how to steal our hearts. Or at least maybe help heal them a little.

Which Way Did They Go? Which Way Did They Go?

It’s almost the July 4th weekend.

Talk around Mi Vida Loca is centered on “what to do.”

ThatManILove may be working, so that will ground us.

But...if he’s not...here are our choices:

Stay home.  I’ve already booked a Saturday morning baby photography session.  Which will be great fun, this baby is gorgeous!!

Stay home.  Photograph. Do some bookkeeping.  And finish painting the living room. And watch my beautiful flowering plants start to die now that we're officially down to watering 2 days a week.  Please, Lord, cause it to rain on Texas!


Go west and north to the cool pines of Ruidoso.  But our favorite “living the lifestyles of the rich and famous (in our favorite Turkey Ridge house) one week at a time” isn’t available on VRBO.  Wah.  That ManILove is spoiled to this particular house.  Scroll through the pictures and you’ll see why we love this mountain getaway. Gorgeous!


Go north to the tip of Texas and watch Elder Son participate in a Ranch Rodeo.

1. This would be fun and just by virtue of going north, it might be a bit cooler.
2. He stands to win big bucks, and by golly, if anyone needs it, he does, because...
3. Definition of "Rodeo" = OneHeckofanExpensiveSport

Stay home. Invite our other family in from the Big D area so we can spoil our godchild, her mommy, and her nanna - it’s always a blessing to see them.

We could combine some of these, right?  Have our rodeo and hang out with extended family, too?  And who knows, maybe Younger Son and his new bride will show up?

Ah, but then, if north, to the rodeo...what to do with the Wonderdogs?  Since I've not booked doggy day-care, we’ll have to find a hotel that allows pets, so we can take them with us.   Which would bring a whole ‘nother dimension to being a rodeo spectator.  Zack thinks when Elder Son ropes a steer that he’s supposed to go retrieve it, just like he does when I shoot a bird.  Well, he is a hunting dog, after all.  And he also thinks the spectator stands at arenas are uncomfortable.  I know.  He told me so.  Right after he yanked me down them when he tried to retrieve that last steer at Tahoka.

Okay, I’m going to bed to sleep on it all.  ThatManILove and I will discuss it in the morning.  

Whatever we decided, I’m sure you’ll be informed, somehow.  My gentle readers, I wonder, how do you stand the suspense?  Our lives are SOOOO exciting.  (Yawn.)

Yep.  I’m tired. 

Please forgive my sarcasm.  I'm a bit sleep deprived.

Hunting Photography from February 5

Told y'all I went hunting!  Here are some shots of Zanna the Wonderdog hard at work yesterday...doing what she loves best, pointing and retrieving chukkar, pheasant, and quail.

Bird up!

Zanna going after it...

Zanna bringing the bird back...

Almost home!

Zanna bringing the bird to Andy

Zanna on point again

And bringing back her bird.

Bird flushed

Hunter bearing down

Shot and falling...

Still falling...

And Zanna bringing it back.

It's a big one!

What a fun day!

Beautiful!!

Grounded

Yeah.  That's right, you read what my blog title said.  

I would post a picture of my current dilemma, but I cannot.

I'm pinned to the bed. And it's not what you think. Remember, ThatManILove is in the field.

Zanna the Wonderpup is crashed across one leg, all 35 spotted pounds of her. And Zack, the big 75 lb. lug, is snoring across my other leg. 

I say, "Kennel". Nothing.  I say it again, "KENNEL!"

They shift a hair or two, you know, like they are in full obedience, and keep on snoring.

Will someone please bring me a bottle of water and a blankie? The rest of me is freezing.

Who Trained These Wonderdogs, Anyway?