The adventuresome life of a Great Pyrenees/Newfoundland dog in Northwestern Ontario

Archive for the ‘Dog Rants’ Category

Turn that Noise OFF!

I think it’s weird how, after all the time I’ve spent in this family, they still don’t believe me when I tell them something strange and potentially dangerous is going on.

“WOOF! WOOF!”

“Oh Stella. Quiet. That’s just a train,” or, “Hush up, Stella. That’s just mom in the kitchen,” or today, “Ssssh! Stella, be quiet. That’s just a helicopter going over!”

Well, yes. It is just a helicopter going over. But it’s doing something dangerous. And it’s doing it over, and over, and over… “WOOF! WOOF!”

“Good grief!” says Elizabeth some time later. “Why does it sound like a war zone out there?”

Good question, two-legger. “WOOF! WOOF!” Here it comes again.

Finally, Elizabeth sees what I’ve been trying to tell her.

Go get your camera, two-legger! I want you to eat crow. Tell the world how I’m not an hysterical Great Newfenees after all.

Elizabeth mumbles something and, finally, does what I tell her. As she’s setting up the camera for the shot, she comments, “Looks like we have some new well-heeled neighbours moving in, Stella.”

Well-heeled? Whatever it is, doesn't look like it has much choice! I tell you, you'd never get me on a leash way up there like that!

Well-heeled? Whatever it is, doesn’t look like it has much choice! I tell you, you’d never get me on a leash way up there like that!

Downton Kenora: Episode 4: Going Back

I hope you don’t find today’s episode boring. I warned the Scribe that you might. She doesn’t listen very well. [Kind of like someone else we know?]

Today, we’re heading back in our guided tour, back from The Foyer and into the first room off The Gallery (I’ll show you that later), back into what I say is

soooo last season!

soooo last season!

The Christmas Room.

I think they should call it the Winter Room. I know I would find that more interesting. Bring some snow in and make it genuinely wintry. Now that has potential! Instead, B&E (that’s Bonnie and Elizabeth, not break and enter!) have done this as a compromise:

Not a real tree. Just a painting of snow. They are beautiful paintings by local artists, but still not the real thing...

Not a real tree. Just a painting of snow. They are beautiful paintings by local artists but, still, not the real thing…

After taking this picture, the Scribe got a little fed up with my attitude. I guess I can’t blame her. She works hard to make things look nice, and her goal is not to achieve real winter. She says I can go outside and experience that. I can have all I want of it when we get home. “Show some spirit, Stella!” she said.

“We aren’t even open yet.”

Then she got an idea. I hate it when Elizabeth gets ideas.

“Why don’t you take a photo?” Not a good idea at all. Look what happens:

I really did take this photo. I stepped on the remote. "Wait!" cried the Scribe, "We need to move that box first..." Too late.

I really did take this photo. I stepped on the remote. “Wait!” cried the Scribe, “We need to move that box first…” Too late.

I went back outside – not Outside into Winter. Just outside the Christmas Room. It’s too small for both of us.

Elizabeth took another picture from two-legger viewpoint. Just so all the other dogs who read this can see what's up on top of the table.

Elizabeth took another picture from two-legger viewpoint. Just so all the other dogs who read this can see what’s up on top of the table.

Look, another lesser Black Cawing Flapper! He’s not real, either. Neither is the Snowman.

One last corner and we’re done:

The cards and books and other interesting little Christmassy/wintry things.

The cards and books and other interesting little Christmassy/wintry things.

Oh! And there’s the Christmas Wreath hiding in the corner. Elizabeth says she’d better get that bagged and stored ’til next Christmas.

That’s today’s tour. Just one great big tease, if you ask me (today’s supposed to be my day off to play in the snow).

 

But Do They Taste Good?

We’ve been busy looking for flowers to show you tomorrow. Yesterday we went on a little shoreline walk. It’s still much closer than it usually is. In fact, the water has only gone down an 2-5 cm over the last week. So, the shoreline flowers are not the usual variety at all.

I got a bit bored with photography – it involves a lot more sitting around than I appreciate – so I went on a patrol of the neighbouring shoreline properties. Everyone had gone home now that the weekend is over. Sometimes they go but they leave interesting things behind. Like last week, for example, someone left a partially eaten corn cob for me to take home and snack on… until Elizabeth found me chomping on it.  ~:o/=  She muttered something about genetically modified compost fodder and tossed it into the rotten food machine.

There was something strange on the next cove up from our bay, and I started to bark. Elizabeth called me back.

When I finished barking… I found her, still taking photographs. I thought maybe she’d like to come over with me and see that strange thing I was barking about. But, before I could persuade her, I was distracted by a movement in the shallows.

Whoa! What's THAT?

Whoa! What’s THAT?

"That's a crayfish, Stella."

“That’s a crayfish, Stella.”

I know a lot of two-leggers seem to like eating things that live in the river.

Hmmm.... Does it taste good?

Hmmm…. Does it taste good?

Elizabeth suggested I try catching one to sample. She said some two-leggers like them….

So, I decided to go Crawdaddin'. Unfortunately, I didn't have much luck. Next time, I must try a different approach.

So, I decided to go Crawdaddin’. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much luck. Next time, I must try a different approach.

Elizabeth says I can eat all that I want. There were scores of them scooting around; some of them seemed to be eating and others seemed to be busy trying to scare each other. As soon as I got into the water, they all used their tails to propel themselves into crevices in the bedrock and into gaps under submerged stones.

Apparently, these are not the species of crayfish that used to live here when Elizabeth was a two-legger pup. She says that they were much prettier. The ones we saw today have been brought in by fishermen who use them as bait. They are a very voracious species, and they have killed off all of our indigenous crayfish, clams, eaten all our ‘sea’ weed and heaven knows what else.

I wonder why two-leggers couldn’t use the crayfish that belong here as bait. The fish got by just fine eating them since long before fishermen came along. Judging from the number of crayfish I saw on that stretch of bedrock, the local fish don’t have much of an appetite for these newcomers….

Two-leggers often leave me shaking my head. Seems they don’t have much sense when it comes to living in the world around them. Always trying to manage and improve on things that worked just fine since the dawn of time. And what happens? Everywhere they go, two-leggers leave messes behind that everyone else must contend with. What is the matter with them?

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: