A day of chasing dogs and pheasants. Todays cast of dogs: Addie, Emma and Maggie, aka the twisted sisters. Each dog had its turn. Old lady Lucy stayed home. Someone had to guard the yard from marauding rabbits.
The day started out cool, which, as it would turn out was a blessing. Hot dogs don't hunt too good, hot humans either. We didn't have to worry. No sweat today. The wind blew through us most of the day. Thankfully it was from the south.
A skiff of snow lingered. Handy for tracking the wily running rooster.
The usual gig. The birds were out there, just had to find them. You get some, others get away, unscathed. Once they get up and get wind under their wings, away they go. And the ones you see first? They've probably already seen you. Can you say adios?
It's amazing how cagy a pen reared bird can be. They can be strutting around, eating grain in the morning. A few hours later, out in the field, they seem to realize....what do they realize? Hell, I don't know, I'm not a rooster pheasant. One thing for sure, their survival instincts kick in real quick.
Two dogs, tired but happy. Fresh air and exercise make for good pups, good humans too.
Back home, floor and furniture were festooned with human and canine bodies. Everyone had a limp. The dogs couldn't make it onto the furniture. Us humans could barely make it to the floor to stretch out. It must have been a good day. And oh yeah, a sign of all of us being out of shape.