My Mysterious Journey through Quinnipiac Gorge -- by Buster

Hey, Scouts--it's Buster, the Ultimate Canine Explorer--back again

with another small account of a routine journey to the far ends of the earth!

Next to the Norway Maelstrom and the Pillars of Hercules, my favorite

spot for an afternoon exploration is Quinnipiac Gorge.  All I need is my

crazed human-with-Y-chromosome, and we're off!  Maybe we'll see

some giant ground sloths or wooly mastiffs....

I'll bet a wooly mastiff ripped this tree down!  I hear that they're not

especially well-mannered creatures...

Ah--the Fabled Upside-Downtree of Quinnipiac.

Home of the mythical Rightside-Up Sloth.

And the Den of the Dreaded Cave Terrier!

I must be brave.

In the Land of Siltstone, one must be cautious.  I heard that three airedales got
buried under forty feet of this stuff when the cliff collapsed, and it took them
four whole minutes to dig themselves out!

Take THAT, vile siltstone !

A bubbling spring...  why does the sound of this make me want to raise my leg?

And we come to the infamous Rottweiler Rapids!



There used to be an old railroad bridge here--until a large Rottweiler
bit a chunk out of the stone foundation and the bridge was swept downstream.

Darn, I'm thirsty!  A pint of Guinness would sure be nice!



I think I'll just sit here and imagine that the river is flowing with the Nectar of Celtic
Mother Goddesses...although a Harps Lager would do almost as well...

Yes--HEED THE SIGN !

More later.  I think my next trip will be to Tristan da Cunha.  Or maybe
St James Gate...

Cheers,

Buster
 

The Official Gracie Album--Collect the Whole Set! or Here Come da Snow!

Here Come da Snow

By Ms. Grrracie the Grrrreat

They say the snow will finally come to my house.  Ms. Blue said it's about time. Ms. Blue also said

that this was the first winter in all her 11.5 years that we didn't get "SNOW".

  Said it's almost March and nothing but water fell out of the sky.  We take our snowy weather

very seriously ya know.  I went to sleep last night and this is what I dreamt about it......

 

I saw white stuff falling from the sky onto the ground and it was all WHITE!!!  

CLEAN WHITE SNOW!

WoW!!  dreams are so vivid....

I  looked all over for my stick... I had it the day before when  the sun was out and shining....

The stick was hiding under the little flakes of  

REAL 

SNOW!

I stuck my nose down into the SNOW and found the stick.  I knew I had left

it somewhere down there.

 

Now I need to find a place where I can chew on this stick...this SNOW stuff is

a little chilly to be laying down in.

 

Uh.....yOU wHO!!! anybody in there?  I want to come in now!!!!

 

I hear a voice far away....

"WAKEY! WAKEY! Ms Grrrracie the Grrreat.... Time to go out."

Hmmm,  today is becoming curiouser and curiouser.

It seems that dreams aren't quite real.....now where did I

put all that snow again?

It was here....now it's just a little soggy out and the mud is

here and my feet are not snowy...

IT WAS ONLY A DREAM?**

  

Ms. Grrrracie the Grrrreat, blushing in great embarrassment.

&

Ms. Blue still waiting to head plow into a good snow drift.

&

theBUSTER, kinda sad the snows just didn't pan out.

&

Ms.Persephone, snuggled in the couch swiping her paw on her head saying,

"Phew, missed another one!  HeeHee!"

**Ms. Grracie the Grrreat has a very active inner life....more to come.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being Buster

Hi, friends--It's Gracie!  Today, Buster decided he would take flying lessons.  He gave me the honor of being his Air Traffic Controller!


Let's look:

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

And here I am, talking him down!  Personally, I give him a 4.5 for Technical Merit and a 6.0 for Artistic Impression!  I do like the positive dihedral effect with the ears...

Your friend,

Gracie

 

Okay--there's absolutely NO excuse for failure to keep up with important correspondence.  Bailey here.  Please find a way to forgive me.  I have been, well, indisposed.

As you can see, I have been fitted with a humiliating Clown-Suit, and I have been subjected to the most unnerving harassment by my human tormentors.

It seems that Doctor Joe had to remove a lump from my Nether regions, and because I am a terrier, those blessed primates don't trust me to leave well-enough alone!

Gracie, of course, slithered around with her big brown eyes, looking like a canine Shirley Temple.  She mocks me.
 

Buster's on a chewing-spree, but we shall not speak of that.  Suffice it to say that Gracie has picked up all his annoying habits and a few of her own.  Such as an alarmingly deep-throated bark and a tendency to go airborne without warning.  

I really MUST take some photos and write more.  In the meantime, I shall leave you with a picture of Friday night's sunset, as seen from the University of Hartford.  I'm doing post-grad work in bedding evisceration and fiberfill mastication there.

Your almost-faithful correspondent,

Bailey



 

The Aftermath: 7 1/2 Days of Pleistocene Existence come to an end!

Your buddy Buster here:  Good News!  The Wolves are no longer at the door!  After seven and a half days of living like, well, a wolf, the power came back on in the middle of the night last night.  I must say, this was a pretty humbling experience! 

Let me introduce my newest, BEST friend, Snuffles the Kerry-Warmer!  He sputters and purrs for about 3-4 hours at a time, providing Bailey and Gracie and Yours Truly with real warmth from a small electric heater.  After that time, our human lackey gets up in the middle of the night and feeds him.

Snuffles had to be purloined from the People's Republic of Rhode Island, since none of his kind remained in Connecticut.  I'd like to be that popular!

Miss Bailey really appreciates being warm.  She's getting on into her Prime-Diva years, and she likes to curl up beside the electric heater by the window and just soak it up.

Now that the furnace (and everything else) is running again, our pack of not-so-dire wolves has ventured out onto the Tundra to survey the damage and chase small, furry creatures.

Gracie has absconded with MY squeaky tennis ball...

 

Miss Bailey stays close to the noonday sun!

And what could be better than to engage my trusty side-kick, Gracie in a good old-fashioned Bark-Fest?

Miss Bailey indulges in her patented, ritual back-scratch.

Today's by-word?  Canis Familiaris !  With the emphasis on the adjective!  I like being domestic!  Warmth.  Regular meals.  Dutiful human servants.  It's not a bad life!  How did our lupine ancestors ever manage?

Your friend,

Buster

Dispatches from Arborgeddon--by Buster

There was an early snowstorm in New England this week.  The guy on the radio says that sixteen inches of snow hit the trees before the leaves had fallen, and promptly the trees came down.  I think I'll take a look....

Hmmmm....    Bamboo patch carpet-bombed.  Not a good sign!

Let's walk down the street!

Now I know why the power's out and mom can't make her hot cocoa....

This explains the loud cracking sounds all night!

I tell you, this is not looking very promising!

Ya know, I think we're going to be here for awhile!

Gracie tells me we'll be without electricity and heat for awhile; just like in the Old Days, when wolves howled and lived by their wits!

Postscript:

Well, it's been a full week with no electricity, no heat, no internet.  Dad's posting this from his University for us.  I'm tired of wolfdom.  I'm bored.  I want a hot pizza dinner and a bath!  Send help!

Your Born-Again DOMESTIC canine friend,

Buster

Farewell, Pond!

Buster here.  I suppose it was bound to happen.  Again!  Off we go, North to our little slice of Paradise, then very shortly, things start to disappear.  The dock.  The canoe.  The running water.  By then, I know it's going to be a long winter!

 

There's a certain chill in the air...and the wind is relentless!

 

Our green sugar maples are turning to red and orange.  But Mr. Loon still holds forth, occasionally unleashing his lonely cry.

Are they really going to take MY CANOE away?  Dang!  And I was just learning to paddle!

No one's around.  Except the Loon.  But I think the place is kinda pretty with no humans.

Moments like these make a gray-bearded dog kind of reflective.  I just can't remember what I was reflecting upon. 

The White Pine That Ate Cleveland is shedding its needles all over.

I think I'll take my human manservant for one last walk down the road!

Okay--Battle Stations!  I get the back seat for the trip home!

We pass the old arched bridge over the Ashuelot River.

 The recent rains have created a torrent!

Then, before I know it, I'm home!  I hope spring comes soon!

Your friend,

Buster