Sassy's New Bed - Outside on the Former Berry Patch

Four times we went after the blackberry patch, twice hacking away the growth and twice putting a blanket of mulch down to discourage a rebirth. I had a helper, which kept the finishing date within this calendar year.

Sassy tells me when she wants to go outside, often after her meal. She often stays out a long time, which may be her time checking over the yard and neighbors. She never stops being a guard dog.

Sassy loved the harmless spill. She walked into the view to enhance the fun.

She used to sit behind the garbage barrels, hidden from sight. I got used to that, but ever since the restoration of that berry patch, I find her sunning herself on top of the thick layer of mulch, newspaper, and cardboard. The Sassy Patch is sun-soaked with some shade from the house and tree. The patch is always warm and drier than the rest of the backyard.

Doubtless she also likes to scratch up her next. I said to her recently, "Sassy, you have been scratching up your nest on the bed for 10 years. Isn't it soft enough yet?" She grinned, came over to me, and kissed my face." How does one discipline such a sly companion and mischief-maker?

The Cardinals and Sassy Sue

Sassy is staring me down, knowing I will drink some pour-over coffee before I take her out for a walk. Sometimes the look is triumphant, grinning "I know you will go outside soon." The afternoon look starts at 3 PM, which is prime time for Ranger Bob to be around. Then she lifts her head and lets go with piercing, heart-breaking howls. 

"What's wrong with Sassy?" Mrs. Ichabod asks.

"It's Bob time, 3 PM." I answer. The scramble to the front door is inspiring.

Alaska has become a regular. He escapes routinely and often waits at our door for an escort back home. Sassy and Alaska played tag a little at Bob's, and Alaska was glad to go back home, across the street from Bob's. I called through their semi-open front door, "Does anyone want a large, black puppy?" 

Some evolutionists should study how dogs of all breeds and various locations play the tag game. It starts with a duck down and then a jump to the left or right. That is repeated for "Let's play tag." Sassy played the more advanced version, the "Kill Game," with her two mates at home. One dog would play victim, the other a killer attacking up and down the victim's body - no harm done. Then they would switch and do the same, making lots of noise and racing in and out the doggie door. In South Bend, far from home, Sassy played the whole game with new dogs. If humans look or pay attention, the game stops.

The Cardinal Is Married!

Squirrels will come up to the kitchen window and wonder - with their sad, orphaned eyes - when the next meal is coming. All the animals can tell if food is on the barrels and window ledges. Recently a female cardinal stopped on one barrel to search in obvious, beseeching ways, for food. She paced around, looking for food that was not there.

That must be the cardinal version for "Get some fresh snacks at the store. I'm hungry." Typical male. So she goes out, looks, and solicits. Bob says, "Indians consider cardinals good luck, so it is special if you always have them in your yard." 

To win and keep their approval, I have

• Five feeding areas in the backyard
• Two baths in the front and two in the backyard
• Berry plants, bushes, and Poke weeds
• Wild strawberries on the ground
• Rough areas where many creatures meet, greet, and procreate.

Sassy set up a defense perimeter when the Moline 66 ladies had lunch and Mrs. Ichabod attended. Sassy celebrates her great moments by barking happily.

How Pets Train Us

Our Lutheran Librarian, Alec Satin, sent me the link to this wonderful book, My Dogs in the Northland, by Egerton R. Young. He took on missionary work in the frozen north, had little in the way of income, and ended up famous for his stories. 

Alec's theory is that pets teach us the games they want to play, allowing us to think we trained them.

Young wrote fascinating descriptions of his special dogs. Jack was a character that could to the butcher shop and bring home the meat in a basket, after taking along the list and the money to pay for them. Another dog became the doctor for the other dogs and treated their wounds and sores. 

Young's wife had her own dogsled, which she used to visit the native Indians in that part of Canada. The cold, snow, ice, and blizzards - carefully described - would make anyone marvel at the sacrifice and endurance of people and animals in the far North.

As everyone knows, Sassy is all personality. She enjoys pranking me, and I see the delight in her eyes when she has turned the tables on me again. Ranger Bob is her enabler but she does well on her own.

She makes a game out of jumping up on her bed (which she lets us use). She can effortlessly flow up to her spot. But if I am around, she needs to stop and whimper and ask for help. She got to the point one night where she took 15 attempts to get up on the bed but never jumped. I was getting peeved, so I saw down instead and petted her face.

Sassy grinned, because that is what she wanted. In fact, she glowed and smiled with affection. When she thinks I am short-changing her, she gives me the arrogant German Shepherd look, which makes me laugh and makes her scowl even more. But this was her affectionate puppy look. I got up and took my place at the computer. She sat down on the rug again with her head resting on the bed - she wanted more. I got up and petted her face and whispered about her great qualities. She had the biggest grin - or was she laughing inside and trying not to show it? I sat down at the computer again, because she did not want to jump up. She sat down a third time, looked over at me, and smiled. Eventually she made the jump, but she had me trained to spot her trick and pet her face, and tug on her ears.

Now Sassy knows she can get loveys from not jumping up on the bed, but sitting down with her head on the bed - aimed at me, "Time for pets!"

Some other great animal books are The Dog Who Wouldn't Be by Farley Mowatt (another Canadian. I memorized the book, reading it first in elementary school.

And - All Creatures Great and Small, James Herriot, English vet, plus many other stories.

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Sassy Smile

Alaska's Energy

Great Pyranees

Sassy and I learned to calm barking, fenced dogs by asking, "Who's a good dog?" They stop as if wondering, "How do they know me?" I point at the dogs and say, "YOU are a good dog." Barking stops.

Today, Alaska - a Great Pyrenees - was at her fence, so Sassy went over to say hello and play a little tag, with each dog on its own side. Suddenly, Alaska was bounding toward me, as if defeating the physical barrier of the fence with special powers. 

Imagine puppy energy, puppy playfulness, and full-sized dog strength. Alaska played with me, Sassy barking in happiness or jealousy, until one owner came out. She was already frustrated with this giant puppy chewing off his rope. For now, the fence was useless.

Skinny-Bo was like that next door, but he was normal size with a high energy and mischief level. When I blocked Bo's frontal attacks, he ran full speed at me and collided with my back. But after a time, I saw down and talked to him and petted him. He was starving for affection, like many dogs which are bought for cuteness and not given the companionship they crave.

I graded three classes today. Covid sent everyone online, and suddenly each institution needed trained online teachers and supervisors. But I would rather see the masks and capricious fake laws go away.

I am working to finish the Walther book, then garden photos, then the book on Bible texts and translations.

 The Wind in the Willows is often called the best adult children's book, but Nesbit is even better.

Nesbit's "children's books" are read regularly by famous authors. They are in a world of their own, and she had a terrible life.

Sassy Hosts the Military Gardening Group

 Sassy had all her shots and remains in great health.

The Military Gardening Group met yesterday for pour-over coffee with cane sugar, pour-over with whipped cream and Ghiardelli chocolate, and pour-over with sugar, chocolate, and whipped cream. Tis a fussy group.

They arrived with 25 bags of shredded cyprus wood mulch, which will protect and feed the roses through the autumn and winter.

Mrs. Ichabod joined Ranger Bob, PFC, and me to enjoy the cool breezes, hummingbirds, and yellow jackets. Bob gets rather excited when he spots a nest, because they love him as much he loathes them.

The shy roses were starting to bloom, three Veterans Honor and two purple roses. More are sending up their new shoots for additional buds and blooms.

Sassy sat in the garden facing us. Her opening is to bark orders at Bob until he has given her Milk Bones and fiber crackers. Sometimes he starts with a tirade about her being spoiled, overfed, and "nothing but a chow hound," a term used for Army recruits who specialize in eating food. She grins during the speech because it always ends with food - and everyone cheering Bob for being so tough.

I told a Sassy story while she was facing us. At the end, Bob said, "Look at Sassy's face!" She was beaming about her many virtues being described and praised. Often, after a morning walk, Mrs. I says, "Any new Sassy stories?" Sassy listens as I tell how she teases Pat and Bob about kissing one, or the other, or both. Sassy clearly loves to play pranks and get laughs.

After the audience and food, Sassy walked beyond the driveway to guard us and keep an eye on the children playing in the street. She is always alert for danger and anything new or unusual.

Our vet tech neighbors drove by to ask about us taking on their pine needles. We have been doing that for years. Their kids and friends bring them over in the fall. I cut roses for people, pointing out that each snip means more roses will bloom faster, with the energy no longer going to the current flowers.

Like the cardboard, newsprint, leaves, and wood mulch, nothing remains of the pine needles except the biological replacements as they are broken down. The soil is noticeably higher than it was 10 years ago. The garden often feels like a big soft mattress, because the organic matter holds on to so much moisture.

Sassy Greets Army Ranger Bob for Memorial Day

 After Peter Ellenberger died, we put this Veterans Honor rose on the altar. He loved telling us how he was put up for discipline for "threatening an officer" with a potato knife. When the commander saw Peter's 100 pounds of skin and bone and the spud knife, he laughed and dismissed the case.

Ranger Bob came over Sunday afternoon. I wanted him to take the altar flowers to his step-father's grave. Both were Army Rangers. We had a vase of Veterans Honor roses, which were kind enough to bloom on the right day. When I look at photos from previous years, I think, "They cannot be that perfect." And they are, far more than the photos indicate.

Sassy addressed the door knocking with ferocious barking, as if I were not headed for the door -  or  - as if I wanted to throw extra locks on. Her initial stage of greeting Bob is to feign great hurt about not getting her Milkbone, followed by a Pupperoni, followed by some cinnamon cracker. Many chastening barks are laid upon him, so we can hardly converse.

Bob scowls and says, "You chow hound. Can't you think of anything else?" Sassy is in heaven. Like all dogs, she reads the emotion and not the words or feigned scorn. She can hear the slight change in words as he tries to hold back his smiles and laughter.

We had some new dogs move in across Scott. They wanted to do the "Stranger come to kill us all!" bark. I said, "Who's a good boi?" Pause, pointing at each one, "YOU are a good boi." (Animal language is misspelled with bad grammar, so editors, sheathe your swords.) Now the dogs perk up and remain silent. They are good bois.

Try that on strange dogs. They will pull back, as if to say, "You know me? How do you me?"

Sassy sets up a security perimeter after her snacks. Outside she picks a spot where she can see into two back yards, across the street, and over to Scott Lane. No threat has ever come near with her on duty, and she never stops watching and listening.

Five Ellenbergers, German born, served in the US military.