SkiCountry Winter

Bubba’s owner grew dizzy with worry. Turned out
some Boy Scouts saw him at the base of Palo
Flechado Pass and took him to Philmont. Bubba
was fat, so they couldn’t have thought he was starving.
And he wasn’t that cute at all. And he stank,
and slobbered all the time. Just an honest mistake
– a good deed gone bad.
Bubba ended up on a month-long tour of
Colorado towns, passed around until he ended up
in a pound in northern Colorado. Somehow word
got back, so my buddy called the pound, saying
he was coming to pick Bubba up. He described his
looks, his slobbering, all his attributes.
“Well, but how do I know it’s your dog” the
poundkeeper asked.
Months of welled up worry and anger burst out.
“Look, lady. You think I’m going to drive seven
hours up and seven hours back to pick up a miserable
mutt like that who’s somebody else’s dog”
Dogs love chasing stuff; it’s in their nature. At
the ranch, dogs regularly chased horses, sheep,
goats, chickens, cats, other dogs and ducks.
Especially ducks. There’s something about a duck
dogs can’t resist – especially my neighbor’s dog
Rip.Rip had a love-hate relationship with our ducks:
he loved chasing them on land (where he had the
upper paw), and he hated it when they reached the
pond (they ruled on water). Until the ice came. At
the tail end of a severe cold snap, Rip chased the
ducks to the pond, now iced over. Everyone’s seen
a dog try to run on ice – legs splayed, twisting, tipping
over. A duck on ice doesn’t do much better. So
Rip was finally able to catch, and kill, a couple. Rip’s
owner was so mad – having cussed Rip countless
times for chasing ducks – he decided to teach him
a lesson. He took some twine and tied a dead duck
on top of poor Rip’s head. It looked hilarious but it
seemed to work, the message drilled continuously
into Rip’s brain. Rip didn’t chase any more ducks.
He looked kind of guilty all the time for killing the
ducks, especially the one tied to his head. After
awhile the duck bonnet slipped to the side and it
looked more like a duck tumor. When Rip would lie
down, guilt turned to shame and he’d put his paws
over his duck-head as if to hide from the world’s
eyes. Hard to hide with a duck on your head. And
hard to sleep too, I imagine, unless it made for a
nice down feather pillow.
Anyway… hope you bring your dogs when you
visit the southern Rockies. The ducks are mostly
gone, south for winter, so there won’t be any need
for fancy head gear. And we can always use a few
new dog tales.
— Joe Haukebo, Publisher
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