Dressing up for Dog-o-ween! It’s all the rage, don’t you know.
Doggie number three looked so forlorn I felt I could read his mind so I have composed another poem. Edited version:
Three little dogs,
Dressed up for Halloween,
Two are very happy,
But the other one just feels stupid and wants to go home.
You may have seen this picture in yesterday’s post:
Due to full zoom and operator shake (can’t really blame the camera) the people in the boat are quite fuzzy. By enlarging the original picture and fudging a bit, I estimate there are about 24 people in the boat. To give you some perspective of the distance involved, look at this:
And this! The boat is just a little white dash in Crater Lake:
So . . . we were sitting in the car at Teddy Roosevelt National Park watching the big guy scratch his back while creating a huge dust cloud (him, not us), when he decided he didn’t like having an audience for his ablutions. He stood up, looked at us (or possibly that offensive and nosy Chevy Tahoe), put his head down and started to grunt HUUNH, HUUUNH, HUUUUNH, HUUUUUNH, HUUUUUUNH! Each grunt increasing in volume so we sped off in our own cloud of dust. We didn’t wait to see if he would take the trouble to charge after us.
The bison pictured below is an entirely different fellow. The poem is slightly misleading. He took no interest in us what-so-ever. I still had visions of the grunter above.
Squirrels stole all the bird seed at our wooded site in Washington so I oiled the pole in an effort to keep them off the feeder. Their cartoon attempts at climbing and sliding down the pole were eventually rewarded when they scaled the pole, looped over the top and dropped onto the feeder. It was a one way journey however.
If you’re worried about squirrelly’s fate it was only about a four foot drop to the grass. It didn’t stop him climbing the pole again, and again, and again . . . .