Thursday, December 15, 2011

Gone to the Dogs

I thought I'd post this for kicks and giggles--my two old critters asleep on the couch in my office while I toil away at my desk, working for their chow.  The white one is Thor, the black one is his mother Stella.  They're 14 and 15, respectively.  (I've shed many tears of shame over the girl's moral character ...or lack thereof.)  I really oughta train them to make coffee and pour bourbon.  Ah, hell, best to let sleeping dogs lie.  They really love the winter sunlight angling in from over Mount Milner.

I can't forget ole Buck.  Here he is napping in my trailer when the four of us were holed up in the Arizona desert a few winters back.  He passed away a year ago last August 18th, age 13 (cancer, just like his old man, Old Shep) and we all miss the hell out of that feller.  Occasionally, I still dig up his old beef bones in the do Thor and Stella.


  1. Affection for dogs is the mark of a good person, which you obviously are, Peter (sorry if that hurts your rep as a crusty hombre who writes some of the ass-kickingest Westerns around). Nothing like a faithful dog to bring great joy to our lives. Unfortunately, the sorrow of loss is sometimes part of the bargain. I have two old mutts, one 12 and one 14 ... actually they were my wife's and now that she is gone they've become mine and I know I'll be a blubbering wreck when it's their time (now I've shot my tough guy rep, too). Ironically, we lost our youngest pup to a sudden illness just a couple weeks ago and the wheezing, gimpy older ones I've been worried about seem as sad as we are that she is somehow missing.
    So enjoy your critters while you got 'em.

  2. I've enjoyed the hell out of Stella and her boys, though I'm sure my neighbors have heard me doing a damn fine Brando imitation a time or two...

  3. They sure are handsome pups, Pete. As I type, our 14-year-old border collie, Nessie, is snoozing nearby. We lost her sister, Guinness (18 years), in April and it was a heck of a blow. I still pause at the door sometimes, waiting for her to wander on in.

  4. 18 years--Holy Moly, Matt! That's gotta be old even for a border.

    But, man, it's tough to see 'em go. Especially when you've had them so long.

  5. I find myself dogless now that Dakota is back with Crystal. I'll be puppy hunting after the first of the year; in search of another wolf hybrid, I hope. They can be a pain in the posterior, but they are excellent garbage disposals. Hey, just 'cause I'm a female, don't expect any softie stuff here. If the pups can't pay the rent, they can at least do chores...