Meet A New Member Of Our Family

This is Sherlock our new puppy!

The story of how we got him might seem a bit crazy but after all you are talking about the Bryan family!

The story begins with Patches's death in December. After that our other dog Samuel has been very lonely. So in January we started looking for a dog to keep him company. After a month of looking (half heartedly at times) mom found a pup of about 10 months old. He is half Whippet and half Australian Shepherd. Kind of an odd combination I know but we fell in love with his photo and his price... free!

Then we looked at where he lived, Goldendale, WA. Where? Well, we where wondering the same thing. So we googled it and found out that it was in Eastern Washington almost to the Colombia River. About a good 4 hour drive for us! Now at this point you would think, "oh, well" and start looking else where. After all there's lots of puppies out there!

Well, we did find two other dogs that were in our area but one owner didn't answer and the other was going to get back to us later that day. So mom called the person in Goldendale to see if the puppy was still available. He was and all the arrangements to pick him up the next day were set.

We were all excited and called dad at work. The planning and packing for the following days trip.

We made a few bathroom brakes on the way back...

Samuel and Sherlock are getting along fine but Sam just doesn't know how to play.

Not more then a half hour after we told dad about the new dog the phone rings. It's the gal calling us back about her dog, a cute two year old purebred Border Collie and guess what? She was also free. So after a long talk in which she told my mom how little time she has had to spend with the dog and the small yard she was in, she asked my mom how much room we had. "We have 5 acres." Well an enthusiastic "really!!" was heard over the line and we were hooked.

So tomorrow we go to pick up our third dog. The Border Collie is a girl and will need to be fixed but right now we just need to figure out where we are going to keep all these dogs!

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into a "normal" week in the Bryan Family. Nothing ever seems to get dull around here.

I hope to post pictures of our third dog soon!

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The Daily Life of Dogs and Cats

EXCERPTS FROM A DOG'S DAILY DIARY:

8:00 a.m.

Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!

9:30 a.m.

Oh, boy! A car ride! My favorite!

9:40 a.m.

Oh, boy! A walk! My favorite!

10:30 a.m

Oh, boy! Getting rubbed and petted! My favorite!

11:30 a.m.

Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!

12:00 p.m.

Oh, boy! The kids! My favorite!

1:00 p.m.

Oh, boy! The yard! My favorite!

4:00 p.m.

Oh, boy! To the park! My favorite!

5:00 p.m.

Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!

6:00 p.m.

Oh, boy! Playing ball! My favorite!

6:30 a.m.

Oh, boy! Watching TV with my master! My favorite!

8:30 p.m.

Oh, boy! Sleeping in master's bed! My favorite!

EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DAILY DIARY:

Day 183 of My Captivity:

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre
little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced
to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape,
and the mild scolding I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant. Today my attempt to kill my captors
by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded; must
try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse
these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their
favorite chair, must try this on their bed.

Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to
make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into
their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was.

Hmmm, not working according to plan...

There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in
solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise
and smell the food. More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was
due to my power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The Dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a
half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant, and
speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to
his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can
wait -

It is only a matter of time......

Never Judge A Horse By It's Cover

By Richard Bell, Arlington, WA
(I found this story in Country magazine Aug./ Sep. 2007)

I’d borrowed “Tutti Frutti” to help drive 50 head of Angus cattle through the Big Hole Country of southwest Montana. She was a scruffy-looking chestnut mare, but my ranch friends assured me she loved to push cows.
About an hour into the drive, though, I had some serious doubts. Moving the little herd through some of the roughest hill country I’d ever seen, Tutti shuffled along in short, steady, baby steps and refused to be hurried.
She struck me as perhaps the laziest horse in all Montana – and proud of it.
Then we spotted a dozen cows and calves wandering up the hill into the scrub brush. Jeppie, our trail boss, wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of losing them, and had started yelling and swinging a coil of rope.
“You’ve got the cow horse,” she growled. “Get up there and bring ‘em back out!”

Next thing I knew, Tutti had leapt over a creek and was streaking through a stand of gnarly pines at a dead gallop. All I could do was bury my head in her mane and hope a low branch didn’t knock it clean off.
Beneath us, boulders and knee-deep gopher holes whisked by in a blur. Something snagged my coat and twisted me in the saddle. I grabbed for leather, choked out a panicky laugh and somehow managed to stay on.
Meanwhile, Tutti was doing exactly what God made her for. Cornering the cows with long, ground-eating strides, she quickly had every stray rounded up and headed back downhill.
As we rejoined the herd, I was gulping air by the bucketful. Tutti wasn’t even breathing hard. With her world back in order, the little mare resumed the laid-back in order, the little mare resumed the laid-back shuffle I’d mistaken for laziness.
I completely misjudged the best cow pony I ever had the privilege of riding, and learned a valuable lesson about reaching a verdict before all the evidence was in.
In fact, if I could live my life over, I think I’d spend it chasing strays in the Big Hole with Tutti. I’d relax in my stirrups, aim her toward the cows and let her do her thing.
For those few precious moments, I’d be 100% alive, and truly happy.

(Of course this isn't him!)