Fiddleback Fourlegged Friends

Discussion in 'Fiddleback Forge Knives' started by Englishrob, Apr 8, 2014.

  1. Kismet

    Kismet Basic Member Basic Member

    Jan 30, 2002
    cornstack aYB tongue.jpg

    I have just gotten back online and came to check out Fiddleback Forge and see how Andy & Co. are doing when I was captured by this thread. After 28 pages of good and sad news (sorry about Beau, Andy,) I'm thinking some folks might enjoy a bit of the Young Bert, the not-right dog stories. :)

    I'm not sure I can load pictures to this thread though. OK. Just joined to post an image. :)
     
    Last edited: Dec 13, 2019
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  2. VANCE

    VANCE Moderator Moderator Knifemaker / Craftsman / Service Provider Gold Member

    Mar 13, 2006
    Hi Kismet. Bert looks like a handful. Welcome back.
     
  3. Kismet

    Kismet Basic Member Basic Member

    Jan 30, 2002
    I'd just gotten Young Bert, the not-right dog, from the breeder who followed me home so I wouldn't change my mind. YB was going to put down for chronic barking and running away (only when the wife was at home alone...odd, eh?). He once walked into an all-night Walgreen's through the electric eye doors, and just meandered around, meetin' folks.

    He'd spent most of his life tied to a tree in a yard in a western Chicago suburb. He was not a house dog, except in the most simplistic sense of the term. Dad didn't train him and Mom didn't want him. This was a shame, for he was beautiful, smart, and could have used the socialization. I've always thought that the more stimulation a young dog got, the more intelligent it became. I know this is true of human babies...pathways form in the brain, and with regular stimulation, become permanent. If the stimulation halts, the pathways deteriorate.

    He was friendly during the first hours/day that he and I were getting to know each other. A little rambunctious, but he was just over two years old, and congenial, if a little anxious about the new surroundings and lack of familiarity with the human in the house.

    I went to take a shower, closing, but not shutting the bathroom door. I was in the shower, cleaning up, when I heard the door open and the click of his toenails on the bathroom floor. YB was coming to check on where I was.

    There was a pause, then ever so slowly, first a brown nose, then muzzle, then eyes, then head of a dog pushed aside the shower curtain and looked to see what I was doing. I said "hello" and went about my business. He just stood there.

    Then, with pains-taking slowness, a paw appeared, rested on the tub side, and then extended itself into the bathtub. He looked at me. I looked at him. We looked at each other. I was curious. He was anxious.

    Then, another front paw appeared, and with the same deliberate movement, extended itself so that the front of the dog was now standing IN the tub, and the body and back half were outside on the bathroom floor.

    He looked up. I laughed. "What is THIS," I said. He did not reply. He just stood there, with the spray of the shower ricocheting off the wall and tub up on his legs, chest, and face. He put his head down a bit, then, almost abashedly, awkwardly lifted a rear leg in and then brought the other in.

    He stood still, head down. Then he looked up at me. I was hooting as the now-almost drenched dog stood at the end of the tub. Very tentatively, he sort of shuffled over towards me, into the heavier deluge of water. First his head, then shoulders and back came under the main spray.

    He just stood there, head down, getting soaked, and then....


    sort of leaned into my leg, putting some of his weight against me.






    It was one of those moments...you know...where two separate species fully understand each other. He was apprehensive and scared of being abandoned again and I knew it...exactly as if he were articulating his apprehension in words.

    I finished the shower and used a "good" towel to dry him off. Got a fresh one for myself, and took him out in the kitchen for some dog-bribe.

    Later that week, he did it once more, but never again since.


    But he still "ain't right."
     
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  4. Bmurray

    Bmurray Gold Member Gold Member

    Feb 9, 2012
    my woo woo

    [​IMG]
     
  5. Kismet

    Kismet Basic Member Basic Member

    Jan 30, 2002
    Such soulful eyes...you can almost hear the wish to be out running and fetching and leaping and panting.
    Great image.
     
  6. Bmurray

    Bmurray Gold Member Gold Member

    Feb 9, 2012
    Love my two boys. Woody (aka, Woo Woo) and Creed.

    [​IMG]
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    [​IMG]
     
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  7. Kismet

    Kismet Basic Member Basic Member

    Jan 30, 2002
    Young Bert, part 2



    On Tuesday, December 4, 2001, young Bert, the rescued dog, and I go out in
    the afternoon to see if we can aggravate any pheasants at Yellowstone
    State Park. Bert's done very well the last two times out, while I have missed
    everything in the sky that I shot at, including, perhaps, the atmosphere.
    Rather than take responsibility for the misses, I blamed the shotgun, and
    took off the inch-thick recoil pad. (Bert did not blame the shotgun.)(Bert
    needs to pay attention to who is buying the dog food.)


    The weather is unseasonably warm lately, and though overcast, refuses to
    rain, can't possibly snow (mid-40's), and seems to always have a light
    wind. There were a few other cars in the parking area, but only two hunters
    within sight. Bert thought the outing was a good idea. I found myself pleased
    that the shotgun shells I brought fit the shotgun I brought--this is not always
    the case. I've learned to appreciate small joys.

    We walked. And walked. Then, we walked some more. Oddly, the miniature cow bell
    on Bert's collar becomes a focused sound, and the cadence, and volume send information
    to me...where he is, how he is moving, if there is a scent that makes him slow, or speed up....

    Nothing. Two other hunters stop to chat, they've seen a bird, and have been
    told that 60 or so were spread out over the 1,000 acres, but no joy as yet.
    Nice guys, one having taken the afternoon off to hunt before Winter shuts
    down the possibility, the other had hunted this same area in the morning,
    and thought I might find some pheasants in the woods. "Might" being the
    operative word.

    Bert and I meandered on, working the high grass edging the woods. He got
    birdy a few times...but nothing materialized. I keep waiting for him to
    encounter a skunk...but, I can't say I'm looking forward to it. I've
    educated him once on the consequences of deer-chasing, but I'm not sure
    just how well the lesson took. Time will tell.

    At the back of the property, near where two small fields are occasionally
    planted with corn, and near where a friend once shot, in sequence, two
    single birds that flushed simultaneously*, Bert started getting interested.
    At least I think he did. The grass was about 7 feet tall, and I am not. He
    may have been shaking the cow bell with his paw.

    But, I began my "VINTAGE STALKER" walk (there is no resemblance to Elmer
    Fudd's hunting movement...none) (OK, well some) (OK, I don't want to talk
    about it) and the sounds from the bell...slowly died just in front of me.
    Now, I chose to think Bert was on point. He may, in fact, been devouring a field mouse,
    which to him, are like Cheetos. (Another thing I will NEVER
    understand.)

    I am a study in focused... er...walking...in 7 foot high grass with a
    double-barreled shotgun at port arms. (NOT Fudd-like.) I come upon the
    brown behind of Bert, who is pointing at... something. Something in front
    of him. I edge up to him, he edges a bit forward.

    CACKLE THRASH, CACKLE, CACKLE THRASH, FLAP FLAP FLAP....two roosters go up,
    and away...one to the front, one to the left.... I level the gun (I think,
    dunno, happens fast) fire the right barrel at the straight-away bird, swivel...
    and fire the left at the (duh) left side bird....

    Hallelujah!

    They both went down. I just shot an unwitnessed, sequential pair of single
    pheasants. Lord. Not sure, maybe the second time in my life...maybe the
    first. Good golly, Miss Molly.

    I walked on a line to the left-side bird, found it, and set about field
    dressing it, waiting (hoping) to see Bert show up with the first bird after
    which he charged. Bert arrived. No bird. Hmmmm. Doesn't mean I missed it (I
    KNOW I didn't miss it.) I resisted the temptation to go look immediately
    for it, and finished with the first bird. Bert seemed surprised to see it.
    (Hell, I was surprised.)

    Finished, walked though the high grass, and Bert surged ahead, found the
    second bird. I said "Fetch." He looked at me. Then he lay down next to it.
    We have some work to do on "fetch."

    But, by golly. I went from missing the sky to hitting a set of two sequential
    singles. I KNEW IT WAS THE SHOTGUN.


    *The discussion here is that when my friend shot his two birds, he thought
    it was a "double." Not being a smart-ass, but rather a person who
    appreciates accuracy in language, I maintained that he shot two birds with
    two shots, hence...it was sequential singles. In baseball, a "double" is
    two bases with ONE hit, seems like in hunting it ought to be the same: two
    birds with one shot.
    However, because I am a generous person, given to compassion, I am now
    willing to reconsider the definition. My reconsideration has nothing to do
    with my recent experience. Honest. #blush

    Young, young bert.JPG
     
  8. drewway

    drewway

    218
    Oct 30, 2015
    I was supposed to be on vacation in Phoenix. Since we couldn't go my wife and I decided to take the pups on a day trip hike in the Pigeon River Forest.
    [​IMG]20200531_142017 on Flickr
    [​IMG]20200531_150009 on Flickr
     
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  9. Robocarullo

    Robocarullo Gold Member Gold Member

    Aug 20, 2006
    7ED407FA-29C2-4C47-AFDE-88BE5D0175A4.jpeg This is Mr.Mochi. He’s a rescued half Maine Coon, half Tabby.
     
  10. Nbrackett

    Nbrackett Gold Member Gold Member

    Jun 19, 2015
    [​IMG]

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  11. VANCE

    VANCE Moderator Moderator Knifemaker / Craftsman / Service Provider Gold Member

    Mar 13, 2006
    Best pic in this thread:D:D
     
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  12. Choppaman

    Choppaman Gold Member Gold Member

    May 6, 2017
    HAHAHA Love it!
     
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  13. Rufus Magnus

    Rufus Magnus Gold Member Gold Member

    146
    Nov 8, 2019
    Do I see two French Bulldogs??
     
  14. Nbrackett

    Nbrackett Gold Member Gold Member

    Jun 19, 2015
    Yes sir.

    [​IMG]
     
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  15. Rufus Magnus

    Rufus Magnus Gold Member Gold Member

    146
    Nov 8, 2019
    ^ That is so cool !!! So i think the Girl is fair and in pink and the Boy is dark and handsome??
     
  16. Nbrackett

    Nbrackett Gold Member Gold Member

    Jun 19, 2015
    Both females. I’m WAY outnumbered in my house. Haha
     
  17. Rufus Magnus

    Rufus Magnus Gold Member Gold Member

    146
    Nov 8, 2019
    Well i guess it’s a GOOD thing ;)
     
  18. James River

    James River Gold Member Gold Member

    93
    Dec 14, 2019
    [​IMG]

    A light lunch
     
  19. Rufus Magnus

    Rufus Magnus Gold Member Gold Member

    146
    Nov 8, 2019
    My dog is five months old in the first picture and 2 years old in the second one.

    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
     
  20. schmittie

    schmittie Gold Member Gold Member

    Nov 28, 2009
    Chillin in the camper. 3FCFDD1C-9003-4E5E-8726-ECCB28259627.jpeg
     

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