This blog has been taken over by a Golden Retriever, cunningly using his—my—appearance of loyalty and the deceiving personification of good. I will now post images of home-made treats and tasty birds from the grouse group. Well, I suppose, the previous owner already shared photographs of the latter, so I'll leave those up. Treats it is, then. Peanut butter.
"As I lie here on my luxurious leopard-print blanket, wearing my hand-made and "blinged-out" leather harness, I don’t ask for much. Just your love. And some raw bones from the butcher. And some quail. Yes, quail would be nice.”
"I used to swim here?" were the first words that ran through my mind when I briefly stopped by the lake. Not only was the water iced and snowed over for as far as the eye could see, but there were also several brave souls, both human and canine, far away from the beach skiing over what were once deep and, at times, turbulent glacial waters.
Last February, I went dog-sledding on a different lake in this area. Even though I felt uncertain about being on ice that late in the winter, I trusted the guide.
Perhaps it's my Russianness, but I often display excessive obedience in the face of authority: there were no signs here, so I felt like I was breaking the law just walking around!
The basset felt otherwise:
He tracked his canine friends (or future enemies!):
And generally seemed quite triumphant. Whereas I was awe-stricken by how tiny he appeared against the mountains covered over by the brooding winter clouds, he was just happy not to be thrown into the lake by his at-times crazy water-loving human mom (i.e., yours truly).