Friday, March 9, 2012

Hunter -- The Melba Experience

Yo yo yo to all my bitches.  I'm a dog, so I can say that and not mean it with any offense.  I'm back and ready to attack, only when I throw down it's usually in search of food or a sweaty leg.  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a boy dog just like any other.  See that hot young thing to my right?  Now that's what I'm talking about!  Her name is Lexi and she was bitten by a snake and given up to Lab Rescuers who brought her to my crib.  Her first night was pretty rough, she couldn't settle down, even with the anti venom, and she kept us all up with her anxiety and rapid breathing.  Dave tried taking her into another room and at least that gave me some time to get a few z's before sunrise.  Anyway, we spent some quality time together, and I thought things were going to work out until Kellen and Amber stole her away from me.  They are so cool though, such great dog people, that I couldn't be upset about losing my Lexi.  Next came a little rat dog lab imposter who started off named Bear and wound up renamed to Poser when Moira snatched him up.

I often wished Moira would take me home with her.  But I think I might miss Dave a little bit.  Still, if given the option, I'd take a home cooked meal in a house with cats over dry dog food and no cats.  I think with my stomach after all.  I don't think I'd go so far as to sleep with cats like Poser does, but I could stand living under the same roof with them.

When we first moved to Melba, I thought skunks and cats were all the same.  I didn't know the difference, having never met a skunk.  I finally learned the lesson the hard way when I went outside to bark at what I thought was a cat and got sprayed directly on my neck, right into my thickest fur.  We were all new to the drill so the bath was a bit delayed and not quite effective at removing the smell.  So it sort of seeped into my skin and I smelled like skunk for almost all of 2009.  Every time I'd go to the beach, I'd come out smelling like a wet skunk.  Which brings me to my next big story.

I'm a pretty good swimmer.  Not as fast as Hillary, mind you, but I can hold my own against other furry beasts.  I've been in the water a lot and I am quite comfortable being far from shore.  Dave spent a lot of time fixing up the Melba house which usually meant tearing pieces of it apart first and then taking them to the transfer station.  At first Joanna thought that was fun, but then she stopped enjoying the experience, so instead she and I would pile into the cab and Dave would drop us off at the lagoon while he unloaded and then pick us up on the way back.  I would go chase the jumping fish and they would beat me every time, but I loved the thrill of the hunt anyway.  Somehow, as I was swimming around chasing these slippery silver swimmers, I got tangled up in one of those big orange buoys.  As a human, with your feet tangled up, you can use your opposable thumbs to free yourself.  But as a dog, without thumbs, I was stuck.  It's not like I can take a big breath of air, duck under the water, and use my teeth to free the rope from my legs.  I'm not built that way.  So, I called out to a kayaker who relayed my request for assistance to Joanna who swam out to free me.  I went limp in her arms, exhausted from the effort.  I wrote her a birthday card the next year, thanking her for saving me.  I wasn't ready to drown, that's for sure.

My next big adventure was to see snow.  As a so cal doggie, I hadn't ever experienced the stuff before. Dave took me to his sister's cabin and on the last night we were there we got some fresh pow pow.  Wow was that cool.  I got to run around and experience what I had only read about before.  It was really cold on my feet, but I refused to wear the booties Dave brought for me.  I wanted to feel the snow slushing between my toes and dusting off the tree limbs.  Fiver was there too, and we played a bit, but he's all fat now and I'm old so I can't really hold up to much horseplay.

That was a great Christmas though.  Even with the 8 hour drive each way where I was stuck in the passenger seat and couldn't really get comfortable b/c Dave brought his snowboard.  Dumb Dave, you own a fancy set of roof racks that you've never installed, why did you make me curl up into a little ball to try to fit in that tiny POS car of yours?  You better get me a wagon if we're doing that trip again.  Anyway, the Melba years have been pretty fun.  I've lived here for over 3 years now which is the longest I've been in one place in my entire life.  I like the neighbors and I think it's cool that Dave is planning a party for me this Sunday to celebrate my 13th birthday.  My favorite part about Dave's parties is when kids walk by with food in their hands because it's just the right height for me to steal it while they aren't looking.  Sometimes they cry when I eat their hot dog or burger, but hey, what's a dog to do?  They can get more, I can't.  Sometimes you gotta be ruthless I say.  I'll be back for an encore sometime soon, after Dave gets a chance to document his Saturday night.  I think he said something about a tux, which seems strange to me because the guy wears sweat pants and running shorts most of the time.  Peace out!


  1. ahhh i remember the melba years with fondness--the years of hunter dog's youth and , of course, the workbench.

  2. Awww... Hunter, it must have taken you forever to type all this without any thumbs. Great to hear about young Hunter's life. Glad I got to meet you. We miss you.