Current News:
.
It was stingingly ironic that my next chronological tale after the lumber hauling incident was going to be the story of Brou. When he fell so quickly ill to parvo, I could not bring myself to write the story which was more likely to become a memorial.
Hopefully this site will display the animation, Brou's personal thank you for all the sincere get-well wishes. Click on the photo if the animation doesn't play. The sentiments are truly his and he is nearly back to his old rambunctious self; no sense in walking when a mad dash will suffice. When I looked up "Red Australian Shepherd", I laughed out loud. It must have been a British site for the opening gem of understatement was "They are an energetic breed." and I have repeated that sentiment often when faced with a new and confounding display of his zeal. Ohmigawd ... energetic does not come close to describing Brou's energy level. The only comparison I can come up with is little Ben, the ward of my Australian cousins. Now there was a young lad with Brou-quality energy, quite content to amuse himself in our back lot by playing baseball ... all positions simultaneously. The difference was that Ben had the most impressive manners of any creature I have ever met - this being largely due to my cousins' stewardship. Brou, on the other hand, still needs a little work on the social graces but he is coming along gradually. I was sorely tempted to box Brou up and send him over to Oz for my cousins to deal with and to provide Ben with an equally frenetic playmate. But my cousins are also getting older and tiring of the chase a little now - I can tell by the tinge in their later e-mails.
I had also considered signing him on with Slim's school of cattle dog training. Slim is our grazing tenant (what? ... you think we care to deal with cattle of our own at the moment?!). He is one of the last real Old West cowboys and there will be plenty of stories about our great friendship with Slim down the road. He really doesn't operate a school for cattle dogs but his two faithful companions are examples of someone who has spent some serious training time with them and has a deep and abiding love of their companionship. He talks a good game about being hard-nosed with them but you can tell that they are also spoiled rotten (when no one's looking, of course). What with the unusually snowy and tough winter though, we haven't seen much of Slim in the last couple of months so Brou will remain firmly planted into our own ranch life for now.
I am up early this morning, writing while it is (uhm, was) still quiet. Given that I went to bed way early last night, I felt no guilt about starting the generator and firing up the computer. Mark just arose and did his customary male morning shuffle past to the bathroom in his BVDs. Brou did the customary polite dog thing and excitedly stuffed a very cold, wet nose up into the top of Mark's retreating bandy legs - a far more effective eye-opener than any alarm clock or burly cup of java ... just trust me on that one.
So much for my quiet time to write undisturbed. Mark has now settled himself into the big wingback nearby to put on his socks and Brou is doing his part of the ritual to grab at the sockies with incredible gusto.
The Brou tale will hopefully continue at a quieter time to come. Brou has already announced that this day is off to another boisterous start and that there is no turning back.
