THE "ART" OF GOLDENTALES
On this page you will see recent photographs of Abby and Keeper that have been altered via computer to reflect certain painting styles, ranging from pastels to watercolours. And, of course, some stories.
Keeper views the long descent and steep climb of the forest country near her home. This picture was named "Most Outstanding" at the 2007 Millarville Fair photography competition
Towards sunset in the summer, Abby
and Keeper flew off the deck and ran down the fence line, barking up a storm.
I got up off my chair to take a look and sure enough, four mommy elk and four
babies were sauntering slowly out of the trees and onto the open field, making a
straight line to cut near our southwest fencepost and then down to the local
pond for the night.
Now, Elk are BIG and aren't scared of much, least of all two Golden Retrievers,
so they weren't changing course for nothing.
They were aiming for that single corner fence post at a right angle because that
was the shortest point from A to B and nothing was going to dissuade them.
But Abby and Keeper kept defending their territory to the extent they could,
limited by the fence around our four acres which restricts them from leaving.
At last, the biggest elk began to take exception to this caterwauling and began
to charge Abby and Keeper, who were only a few feet away, the two parties
separated only by the fence.
At this point, the mild bemusement I felt turned to outright concern as I didn't
want that Elk personage jumping the fence and stomping poor Abby and Keeper to
death.
Seriously.
So I threw on my shoes and moved halfways down the field, making myself visible.
Elk may not be afraid of much but humans is one thing they avoid given the bow
hunters in our area.
As they saw me they began to back off and then
scampered at a trot back into the trees where you could hear a "twang"
as each of them jumped an old fence line, their knees clipping the wire.
But I didn't tell Abby and Keeper I helped them out a bit. There's some things
they don't need to know.
Abby on the trail to Chester Lake . . . . . dry brush
On the side of our hill, the bald butt
prairie stretching to infinity or at least to the Rocky Mountains, Carol and I
hauled out the deck furniture and were laying there looking up at the stars,
watching the Perseid meteor shower.
Since we live in the country, it's QUITE dark.
We counted nine satellites going overhead in only half an hour, saw tons of
blazing meteors, many with vapour trails in all sorts of brilliant colours and,
amid this quiescent one-on-one relationship with nature . . . . . listened to
Abby and Keeper as they engaged in a howling barkfest with a couple of coyotes
in the field.
You know the scene in "101 Dalmations," the original, where the dogs
are communicating via Barking Telegraph?
Well, its just like that in our neighbourhood.
It always starts the same way. Some coyotes start up with their forlorn wailing
and pretty well every dog within five miles - no exaggeration - is on the
telegraph within minutes, all making his/her contribution in the pitch black of
the night.
Meteors and howling . . . satellites and stars.
Everyone had fun in their own way.
Keeper listens carefully for mice in the field on a morning of newly fallen snow
Polly, through neglect at a pet store, had to have her back feet amputated but now passes her days by the windows, watching the snow falling and enjoying the freedom and safety of her new home. Polly is recovering well and manages to scoot all over the house and climb onto the sofa in the afternoon and the bed at night.
Polly was joined at Abby and Keeper's home by her kitten Skyler. Maude and Daisy also live with Abby & Keeper.
Polly's world, a new day dawns through the looking glass
Keeper at Sunrise . . . . . a metallic version. This was a winner at the Millarville Fair in Digitally Altered category in 2009
Keeper in the forest on a foggy day . . . . t
Poplars In The Fall . . . . . this picture one first place in the Millarville Fair Digitally Altered section in 2007
Flower at Chain Lakes
The snow has come and gone, Abby looks for mice under a hot December sun. Winter will return soon enough.