hounds

Back to Blogging

I can’t believe that I left you people unattended for an entire month.

What’s worse, the blog stalled-out with the lingering image an opossum’s butt. Sacrebleu!

Well, I’m back in action…

…tomorrow.

Today’s photos have no relevance. So what? Who doesn’t like puppies? They are far more pleasant than rat-tailed marsupials.

On Sunday, the kids played with the hunt’s young, ebullient crew. After two hours, the pups were pooped. In the top shot, Hadley is singing them to sleep.

It worked.

 

They dozed off, oblivious to the fact that the fun is just beginning.

photo by Robert Keller

 

 

 

 

 

Hunting & Dancing with Hounds

New Funny Farm content coming soon. But after a busy weekend, I can only proffer up a few pixs and captions.

On Saturday Brynn hunted untethered — “off the leash,” as she likes to say. In other words, without any speed moderation from yours truly.

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What does this mean?

It means that I’m dispensable.

I’m still useful when it comes to tacking up the pony, or tightening his girth. I am menial labor.

But in the hunt field, I am a nonessential employee.

Last week, Brynn was frightened to ride down steep slopes and cross creek beds. This week she was blase. Freed from the lead, she announced that I could fall in behind her. “You can stay back there,” she said, gesturing toward Rocky’s tail.

She’s a teenager, embodied in a kindergartener.

Which is impressive and annoying at the same time.

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Chatting on the hack home

 

In the meantime, Hadley is still honing her hound handling skills. Pictured, this isn’t Kennedy, but another effusive hound in the pack.

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Dancing with hounds.

Or just bonding.

Either way, it’s a feel-good experience.

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(Photos by Karen Kandra & Robert Keller)