Today's menu is...

We have company for the holidays, and it's been a dandy week. Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, and as usual I have an embarassing number of things for which I'm enternally grateful. Friends, family, and this magnificent state.

Today was a fun, fun day. Our houseguests' schedule overlapped with a free day of mine, so we spent it together. After morning coffee and dog chores, we headed out to Sandia Peak, via the Tram. It was a truly glorious day at the top - all 10,300'+ feet high - upper 30's and barely any wind. A storm is headed our way for the holiday, so the air wasn't as sharp as usual, but the views were still spectacular. I've taken the Tram up several times in the last 15 years, and it's cool every single time.

The first picture is the view to the North East, going toward the Jemez Mountains. The colors are not doctored, that really is the color of the sky. Note the ski lift to the right.

The second picture is the view north, as the Tram is descending. The bottom right has the shadow of the car; mere insignificant spec against the mass of the Sandia Mountains.

After running a couple of quick errands, we headed over to the Albuquerque Zoo. Compared to the San Diego or Washington, D.C. zoos it may not be a big deal, but I was very pleased with most of the exhibits. There were countless birds, from the gaggle of flamingoes near the entrance to the countless feral peafoul and a couple of indiginous roadrunners - one in an exhibit, one quite loose - to the walk-in aviary of parakeets, to the flight cages of eagles and vultures... so very interesting.

What got a little creepy, however, was the reaction we got from several resident animals. Take a look at the following and see if you can decide that they were thinking. I'll give you a hint: The prey animals were GREATLY agitated by us, the super-predators were pretty sure we smelled like lunch.




Note to self: next time get all the dog hair off before heading to the zoo.

World's Greatest Neighbors

We have pretty much won the lottery when it comes to neighbors.

To our east is open land, about 15 acres. We have first dibs on the lot adjacent to us if/when it's ever available. To the west are great people; they used to breed and race sled dogs, now focused on rescue of purebreds and wolf/coyote hybrids. We see each other about once a month, but the twice-daily howl-fest from their kennels is a joy; the local coyotes often join in. To the south, well, let's just say the developer's abundance of money is balanced out by his absence of taste. Grack. Thank doG for the hundred trees between our house and his. And to our north, visible beyond our barn, are The Greatest Neighbors Ever.

Smart, funny, sensible, and highly compatible. They phone before going to the feed store, are happy to trade horse chores for tractor work, and share their basil and tomatoes for our chile and chicken necks. Their dogs and ours try to wear each other out running the width of our pasture - not fence fighting, but a thrilling game of "you can't catch me" and "watch how deep into the corner I can go before turning." A common appreciation of wide-open spaces, privacy, and political jokes makes morning coffee at the fence-line something I look forward to in spring and summer.

They say you can't pick your nose or your relatives; I'd add neighbors to that list.

A Special kind of Crazy

I suspect there is no treatment for this particular disorder.

Here's the set up: It was 11 degrees and I couldn't WAIT to get outside. The hounds were climbing the furniture, itching to get GOING already - and I decided that leaving my boots at home wasn't that big a deal, I'd just wear my sneakers. Coat over jammies, slippers over bare feet, and I took the boys out to a paddock for their morning constitutional. No wind, stars galore, the moon setting over Pike's Peak, and a hard cold that puts a spring in one's step.

Dog trial fashion this time of year trends toward the... bag-lady impersonator. I got a cup of coffee and began to dress. Layers and layers of long-sleeved everything, heavy wool socks, lined gloves, ear warmers, hat, down vest, windbreaker. While I would have liked my ski pants, I had to make do with my very favorite fleece lined jeans. Ski pants are wind-proof, which is a wonderful thing on the windswept high desert in winter. Feel free to call me a wimp, but only my toes and a couple of fingers went numb. Yes, it's essential to pee before going to the field, because dropping trou in a porta-pottie is not only incredibly uncomfortable, it's utterly cumbersome.

By the time breakfast was finished I'd broken into a sweat and the dogs were ready for the relative comfort of the car. The sun was just coming up, promising sunburn in addition to frostbite. It was 14 as we pulled onto the field, and about 20 by the time we had roll-call. I seriously doubt it broke 30 before lunch, and the wind made it feel a lot colder than that. The borzoi were, of course, giddy. Cold weather is their favorite, and running in the cold only makes them happier.

After the trial I headed back to the ranch house for a shower, where I traded bag-lady for lobster impersonations. When my last toe thawed out I exited the shower and got ready for dinner. Then it was time for a good dinner with friends all things dog.

We laugh at ourselves and what we do for the our love of the hounds and what they do. Call us crazy if you want to; we're nearly as happy as our hounds.

Word to the Wise(ass)

Busted.

Somebody a bit west of me wants to buy a borzoi puppy; it took exactly two days for a visit to his home and a check of his references. And now every borzoi breeder in the Mountain time zone knows about this person - and has put a black mark by his name, forever.

A few tips:
1 - Don't claim you have a fenced yard if there's a 4' cinderblock wall.

(somehow this post was damaged and parts of it are missing!!)

And, for the most part, we all know each other and never hesitate to help when asked. We may squabble amongst ourselves over everything imaginable and inane, but we instantly close ranks to protect the breed that has given each of us its gifts.

Big dog, small breed. Don't lie.

Great Expectations

No pressure, dude.

1 - Say it with me: OBAMANOS. WAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

2 - Note to President-elect Barack Obama: We all know the country and globe are a mess, but don't fuck up this opportunity, OK?

'Nuff said.