Gypsy weighs 22 pounds, but is still small enough to attract the attention of two great horned owls. Last night Bruce walked up to the pump house with Gypsy. The sun had just set, and the owls were perched above the pump house when he and Gypsy arrived. Bruce was working on the electrical box when Gypsy left him and went running down the road back to our farmhouse. She was wearing a long check cord, but Bruce failed to catch her. And, she was in an ignoring mood, so she did not heed his voice. He called me from his cell phone, and I was in the bedroom. I went to the phone, but Gypsy had pushed the phone off the dresser, and, so the phone was under the bed. I couldn’t reach the phone. I could hear the owls outside the bedroom window, but I had no idea Gypsy might be in danger. Apparently the owls flew over Gypsy as she ran and followed her down to the farmhouse. They were now settled on an electric pole not far from our front door.
Bruce called me again, and I went out to the kitchen to get the phone. Once I heard his story, I put the phone down and ran to the front door. Gypsy was standing on the welcome mat looking up at me. What a relief.
Gypsy still thinks everyone is just like her. By this I mean she doesn’t recognize other creatures such as donkeys and cats as being any different from her. She acts as though the donkeys and the cat want to play in the same way she does. Also, she thinks the donkeys and the cat are chew toys. Her motto: Make ‘em squeak! The problem is the cat doesn’t like being pounced on and bitten, and nor do the donkeys.
She loves the donkeys, and each time she sees them her butt wiggles, and her tail begins to wag furiously back and forth. I sigh, because I know she has no idea what she is getting into. And, when I take her over to the donkeys she tries to jump up on them and bite them to get them to play like when she roughhouses with Skookum and Ouzel. The donkeys try and dodge her. They appear to know the nutty puppy means them no harm, but still they can’t relax around her. And I am sure we are always moments away from “the kick.”
Of course one kick from a donkey would wake her up, but I can’t take the risk of the donkey really injuring her, as much as I think a warning kick would be of benefit, so I have to wait until she gets more coordinated (to get out of the way) and more mature before allowing her around the donkeys without being on a lead.
Next week we leave for twenty days of bird hunting and traveling in the R.V. with all three dogs. Have I lost my mind?
But, first we’ll attend the Schwartz annual Duck Camp near Toppenish, Washington. It’ll be Gypsy’s first Duck Camp, and she’ll meet a variety of waterfowl hunting dogs and about twenty of their people.
Gypsy won’t be able to hunt much this year, but she’ll be exposed to wild game, and she will see Skookum and Ouzel hunt. There’s nothing like experience with wild birds to bring a young bird dog along. By the time she gets back home in November maybe she’ll be mature enough to treat the donkeys and the cat with a bit more respect.