Not just for the birds
[This is a re-post from 3 years ago; 9 years ago today I had to put my first dog down. Glenna changed my life forever.] When I was 37 I moved to Boise, Idaho, where I knew nobody and didn’t have a job. I rented a house, my first time living in a house since …
I don't know the people who will feed me... Frank O'Hara, "The Day Lady Died," from Lunch Poems (1964) Please, sir, I want some more...Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist Warning: This post is way less about chukar and more about culture, if you can call it that. We'd probably prefer to think of the word "hunger" …
We all have our stories about how bringing a dog into our lives changed it, enriched it, or sometimes made it more complicated. We have our own tale going back to the beginning of Chukar Culture and where it all got started with this one particular Brittany named Angus who is now 12-years old. Looking …
"The man must learn to know his dog as a personality, not a formula." -George Bird Evans "Peat No!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as he booked full speed through the dog door and outside to the backyard with a big piece of cauliflower firmly gripped in his mouth. The piece …
Once again, I'm seeking advice from my more erudite and experienced readers... Peat, and sometimes Angus, but always at least one of them wakes us about 4 a.m. wanting to be fed. This has been going on for more than two years. Peat's the ring-leader, and most aggressive. He'll start by pacing and softly whining, …
Haris Papadopoulos, Molly, and some evidence of a good day's chukar hunting on Cyprus Haris Papadopoulos contacted me through another blog of mine about two years ago with some questions about our dogs and the Brittany breed in general. He lives in Cyprus. We've been in touch since then, and just a few days ago …
Not everyone sleeps with dogs. We do. One of the purest pleasures I know is, upon getting into bed, having Peat collapse himself onto my left side, pressing his back against my ribs and torpedoing his head across my armpit, his nose inches from my face, and his relaxed amber eyes peering into mine as …
My stress doesn't come close to the stress wildlife endured this winter, but it's been there daily, mainly in the form of wonder and hope. In a phone call with my dad earlier this winter, I lamented the tough conditions for chukar and the rest, and he reminded me of this wonderful Emily Dickinson poem: …
After my hunt with Peat last weekend, in fairly deep snow, I was surprised to find a tiny tick on him. A month or so ago, after a short walk near the Boise River, I noticed at least a half-dozen tiny ticks inside one of his ears. We've never found ticks, until now, on the …
We saw lots of birds last Friday, but they were really jumpy, and - whatever the reason - the dogs couldn't or didn't hold them. I sprayed plenty of lead over the landscape (something I pretend doesn't bother me, but it does, although obviously not enough to cause me to do anything about it, yet). …