The many faces of Biskit.

I have never known another dog like Biskit.  She is full of mischief, does very naughty things and yet it's hard to be mad at her.

Right from the very start, Biskit wanted the shotgun seat and so Teddy had to sit on her!



Now I have two Australian shepherds in the front seat.   Teddy is wearing a hat.  I don't know why.


Biskit has funny ears.  They seem to reveal what is going on in her brain.  Here her ears are in the neutral position.


When one ear sticks up, it's a sign she's starting to have wicked thoughts.


When both ears shoot up...LOOK OUT!


Usually when her ears shoot up she has to carry out mischievous deeds...like stuffing her head into a box or destroying something in the house.


Here she is right after I found her up to no good.  When she's in trouble she runs to one of the other dogs or a person to protect her.  This day we were alone in the house and so she ran to the dog chair and tried to look innocent and pathetic.  Look at the side of her mouth....that's part of the corn (maize) cob she took off the table to shuck and nibble all the corn off.  I held it up, like I do with some of the things she's destroyed, and say, "Who did this?"  and Bisket puts her ears into the 'begging forgiveness' position.


Like this.  Her ears almost disappear and she sometimes shows me her gums.  


Here's a list of what she's destroyed or damaged.  My phone cover, two remote controllers, a calculator, my straw hat, my prescription glasses, an expensive cushion for my back, important documents, book covers, chair legs, rugs, pens, pencils, sculptor tools, pot plants and more.

She goes through a lot of trouble to get things she wants, like jumping up on tables.  She pulled my bag of the table, emptied and sorted through it.  She chewed up my glasses case to get to what she wanted, my glasses.  She raced around the house with them throwing them and chewed them up.  I thought she was playing with her teething keys, until she threw what was left of my glasses at my feet.

As soon as my back is turned she's up to no good.  She tore the rubber backing of my TV remote control and pre-programmed into it a kids program called 'Noodle and Doodle', which she was watching when I walked in.   It's hard to stay mad at her.  We thought she was house broken, but one day she was having so much fun outside, she forgot to go.  She did a poo in the dining room, on what is left of the oriental rug.  Right on the top of the pile, like a flag on the summit, was one of her puppy teeth.  So we ended up laughing about that.

This was her first time shopping.  She was bit nervous and so we put her in the cart and she climbed into the front part.  She has been shopping since and is remarkably calm.  She walks along so quietly and doesn't put a paw wrong.  She is the same around the cattle.  She knows when it's time to play and when it's time to behave.  

Last week she was spayed and micro chipped.  The next day she was playing with Teddy like nothing happened.  She loves Teddy so much.  Yesterday, when Brad took out her stitches, it took three of us to stop her from wiggling.  I think she's hyperactive.

Jet Lag didn't make it.

The day following the massacre, he was comforted by the only remaining hen.  He could walk about a little bit and spent the day in a few different places, with his hen snuggled up to him.  He died that night.

I have been torn about posting the picture below because it's so sad.  It's Jet Lag's last day on earth being comforted by the last of his girls.


The gate was open but the hen chose to remain the entire time with Jet Lag.  He was a wonderful and brave rooster.  I really miss him.

The widow and widower have teamed up.  At first they didn't get along and Ducky Boy was sporty a bill full of hen feathers.  Now they understand they are the flock.  They sleep in the duck house which is more secure and they sleep side by side.


They don't have much in common.  He likes puddles and flying.  She likes pecking about and long leisurely dust baths.  They are learning to compromise.  I guess birds of different feather can flock together.

The moral of the story is; If all hell breaks out, if you can't fly away, then stay on your perch.

Murder and mayhem.

A terrible tragedy to report from the farm.  This is how it all went down.

My sarcoidosis has progressed and the pain makes it hard for me to sleep, so last night about 3 am I gave up and took a pain killer.  I save them for the day time when I need to get things done and for the first time since my latest operation, I took one at night.  Afterwards I fell in to a lovely deep sleep only to be awoken an hour later by Blondie barking her head off downstairs.  I tried to ignore her for ages, but in the end went downstairs and let all the dogs out.  I regret trying to ignore her.

Blondie and Teddy ran to where the deer like to hang out in the garden and I stood there with Biskit body slamming me in an attempt to herd me.  It was then I heard our Ducky Boy in the meadow.  Ducky Boy does not go out at night and so I walked over to talk to him.  He flew over my head and towards the hen house.  I went in to get a light.  Biskit continued to try to herd me.  As I walked to the hen house I saw the door was open and knew something horrible had happened.  A beam of light on the ground told the tale.  Bodies everywhere!

Something low to the ground was moving through the tall weeds and I shut the gate to the pen hoping to trap it in and limped/waddled as quick as I could to the house to summon help.  "Help Help I need help"!  I yelled up the stairs.  Brad and William came running out.  My boy holding a big gun.  Biskit tried to herd them.  I grabbed a rake and told Brad to grab the shovel.  William put Biskit in the pick-up because she was really getting on everyone's nerves at this point.  Blondie had run back inside shivering and Teddy was looking for deer to herd.

Whatever it was had gone.  Only a hen, who kept on her perch, and Ducky Boy were untouched.  Jet Lag, our rooster, is badly hurt.  Everyone else is dead. This morning JL is resting with his head down.  He has lost many feathers and has been bitten on his back and neck.  I sprayed some pain ointment on his bare patches.  I'm hoping it's just shock and pain and not some internal injuries.

We suspect the badger, that Brad and William have seen a few times hunting gophers, is the killer.  If only he stuck to gophers.  The mother hen is very protective and Jet Lag always has been, and it seems they put up a huge battle when the badger tried to make off with one of them.  Badgers are extremely vicious when cornered.  Jet Lag's feathers were all mixed in the hens, which were spread outside all over the pen.

Poor Jet Lag.  I feel so terrible for him.  He's a wonderful bird.