GIVING IN TO TEMPTATION and BARKING AT BOVINES

“Your characterization of me as a dog, as a BORDER COLLIE, with poor manners is a bit upsetting…that photo is inappropriate.”

“Which photo are you referring to, the chewed container or the warm turkey breast in the back of the Scion xB with you?”

“Mmmmmmph…they were both taken by you today…the event is over…the event was, like, five or six days ago…you discussed this problem with me already…this is inappropriate material for the blog -MY BLOG-  I might add…I realized I made a mistake dragging the warm turkey breast into the back of the xB…”

“You did a bit more than just drag it into the back of the Scion, and I know, you were apologetic about your actions.”

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Warm, savory, juicy…aromatherapy for dogs…mouth-watering, too, and very tasty!

My Dad and I were out and about last Saturday, and one of our stops was Sunset Foods for some groceries.  And while I will use the photos My Dad took today, I am using these only so that all of my loyal and faithful readers will understand that this event took place on SATURDAY – some six days ago!  For some reason, My Dad feels that my poorly thought out decision to crawl up into the front seat of the xB and  g-e-n-t-l-y  pick up the cooked, juicy ROTISSERIE turkey breast and bring to the back of the Scion requires a full disclosure – must be the investigator in him.  I am referring to this as a re-creation of the actual event – gently pick up the Sunset Foods plastic bag holding the savory, aroma-therapy of the juicy, warm turkey breast, remove the warm plastic container from the plastic bag, chew and pry the clear plastic top from the container and….VOILA!…a delicious, mouth-watering turkey breast.  And I was able to chew off and consume four corners before My Dad returned from his shopping foray at Target, or as he likes to say, “TARJHAY.”  I say, WOOF!  That turkey breast was DELICIOUS!

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This is only a re-creation…makes My Dad feel better…

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While this is the ACTUAL container I broke into, this event took place some six days ago.  The benefit for me was turkey breast mixed into my regular IAMS Natural meal.

“Don’t forget the barking-at-the-cows story.”

“Well, finally, another story that is a bit more appropriate for MY blog.”

We drive through Glenview, Illinois several times a week…My Dad used to live here…and we pass by Wagner Farms located at the northwest corner of Lake Street and Wagner Road.  Part of the allure of Wagner Farms is that it is a  working (allegedly) dairy farm – WITH COWS.  The cows stand around, watch the cars go by, the cows are moronic.  They do not have any herding dogs, of any kind, running around Wagner Farms to keep these cows, these cud-chewing bovines, in line and alert.  So as part of my never-ending job as a Border collie, a very serious herding dog, I bark-bark-bark-bark at these simpletonians, these slobbering, burbling, bovines.  I can see their ears twitch and they look around – “….uhhh…where is the Border collie….?”  Very satisfying to get that reaction.  Time for a nap.  I played with Kaya and Erin today.  Later…….MAGIC.

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MISSION TO DOWNTOWN and PUDDLES OF VOMIT

“I’m taking the train downtown this morning, will you be alright for about three hours?”

“Mmmm…not really…why don’t you bring me with?”

“Traffic will be a pain, taking the train downtown will be more relaxing, I will be back by 12:30.”

“Hah!  That is not three hours, that is more like four hours and 34 minutes.  OK, I will entertain myself, can you leave your gloves on the table, or a hat?”

“Blackmailed by a Border collie…is that how it’s going to be?  My gloves and my hats are already displaying Border collie damage…divots, gouges, nicks, pieces of fabric missing, fingers missing…”

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My Dad taught me how to remove his hat from his head…some unfortunate damages have occurred as a direct result of my quick learning abilities.

“Oh, c’mon…we’ll drive together…we can go for a walk downtown…I know you love to show me off…right?”

Easy stuff for a determined Border collie…pushing My Dad around, manipulating him, he is so ruminant-like, at times.  Yes, we are going bye-bye in the Scion xB to downtown Chicago on a “mission.”  And the traffic on the Kennedy Expressway was just fine – I love sticking my head out the window at a leisurely 17 miles per hour…sometimes 2 miles per hour.

After My Dad had successfully completed his mission, serving a court summons on a very cooperative Registered Agent, he returned to the Scion xB on the 7th floor of the parking structure.  I am still getting comfortable with elevators.  While I will no longer hesitate to board an elevator, once I am inside, I have a tendency to spread my legs and drop into a crouch – I feel a bit more steady on my feet this way.

My Dad told me that the prior weekend, the City of Chicago had dyed the Chicago River GREEN (as if it was not green enough) for St. Patrick’s day (My Dad’s birthday) and this event coupled with the Saint Patrick’s Day parade encourages a lot of humans to drink a lot of alcohol…and this results in numerous puddles of VOMIT – EVERYWHERE.  While these puddles were interesting for a Border collie, especially the pink puddles and orange puddles, My Dad kept telling “NO” in his very calm voice, and I listen VERY well!

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Wacker Drive with a view to the east…and no puddles of yucchy stuff to be seen!

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The Marina Towers “corncob,” and the curved glass of the Trump Tower in the background.  No, those people behind me were not throwing-up.

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Jumping into a raised flower bed is very easy for a Border collie.

By the way, I have a large number of canine friends who visit frequently.  I am not food-aggressive, so when my canine friends visit, I will watch them have a meal at my place.

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Brandy (a/k/a Demonic Schizoid) after enjoying MY breakfast…I just watch, why cause an argument?

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Coco and Loli visited last night.  Their Mom was out of town.  Coco is a Border collie wannabe, she runs next to me outside and barks whenever I bark.  They are official members of the Magic Fan Club.

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And, meet LOLA (Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-La, from the song by the Kinks), she is an eight month old Shiba-Inu, who has just joined the Magic Fan Club.  Nice ears, YOU BABY!

THE ELEGANCE OF HERDING DOGS and THE GRIM REAPER VISITS SQUIRREL-TOWN

“We are leaving in the car in an hour, will you be ready?”

“Remember Maisie, that Border collie you saw in National Geographic Your Shot?  She sent me some pictures.  I’m writing about the handsomeness and beauty of herding dogs…yes, I will be done here within the hour…maybe we can visit Maisie…”

“You better include your buddy Patrick on this post, and don’t refer to him as the Cattle Collie, anymore…he did not like that.  And as long as I’m thinking about it, don’t forget to mention your sudden success with squirrels…the corpses are starting to add up.”

“Mmmmm…good point about Patrick…I’ll start with him…”

My good friend Patrick lives in Shannondale, and I refer to him as Patrick of Shannondale.  IT’S A JOKE, PATRICK!  My Dad thinks you are very handsome and I’ve got to tell you, I owe you an apology.  Your Mom sent me a picture of your sister (I’d like to know her a little better) and your Mom sitting together in the Sheriff’s Prison Transport (just kidding) and without a doubt, your mom is an Australian Cattle Dog, and quite beautiful, too.

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Patrick’s gorgeous mother is on the right and his sister is on the left.  (Photo courtesy of State Prisoner Transport System)

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And, as all of my loyal readers are aware, this is my good friend and play-fighter, Patrick of Shannondale.  He certainly looks like his sister…compliment Patrick!  (Photo courtesy of Home for Deranged Cattle Dogs)

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This is my mentor and renowned Therapy Dog, Cody of Lenox (RIP 01-08-2015).  Cody was well known for his fabulous ticking, split-face, and endearing disposition.

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And, speaking of ticking, GORGEOUS ticking, this is the beautiful Maisie, recently observed in National Geographic Your Shot.  Photo used with permission of Maisie’s Mom, Tiehrra Alexander.  I’m hoping to get a play-date with Maisie!

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Maisie smiling…look at those golden eyes!

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And…Maisie after running through the mud…

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This is Maisie’s house-mate, Porter.  Porter is 7 months old.  Nice ears, YOU BABY!

“We’ll be leaving soon, wrap it up, Magic!  Don’t forget about the squirrels…”

HA!  It has taken me over a year to catch a squirrel…I was always overplaying my moves…too quick, too straight, too reactive.  But, that changed last week…patience, pursuing a bit slower, and not reacting to their little deke-out moves, their trickery, their sense of superiority.  They are actually idiots, they wait too long to make their break for freedom, they get a bit too choosy in which tree to climb, or they choose one tree and just as they get there, they change their mind.  Three squirrels, two last week, and one yesterday (who did not die very pretty).  Pretty simple stuff…grab ’em, puncture ’em, crunch ’em, shake ’em.  Time to go.  Thanks, Maisie, for the great pictures.  I think I’m in love.  -Magic

 

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

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Did Dr. Preiser make any comments about my handsomeness?

“How did you find out that my birthday is today?”

“Why can’t you just go with the flow…like you usually do..why are you over-thinking this?”

“I’m a rescue, picked up as a stray…right?  What…did you drive down to Quincy, Illinois and find my parents…snoop around the truck stop where I was found?  That would make you a pretty good investigator…”

“We guessed…your birthday was assigned by what Dr. Preiser saw when she examined you…remember, the week after you were adopted, remember being fostered at Kathy’s house? Remember Cody and I picked you up at Kathy’s house”?

“Duh…of course I remember, Border collies remember everything…and my date of birth was determined how?”

“Dr. Preiser said you were 8-10 months old…max…based on your brilliant white teeth, your weight, your demeanor.  Dr. Preiser said you were just a baby.  So, we did a little math and came up with a birthday of February 8th, 2014.  And that makes you TWO years old, today.”

“What did my weight have to do with my age?”

“That is the simple part of the guesswork.  When you were picked up in Quincy you were only 33 pounds.  And Dr. Preiser said you didn’t have much muscle…even Kathy said you needed to build some muscle.  During you weigh-ins at the vet in August, September, and October, your weight was right around 55 pounds.  A couple of weeks ago, you were 61 pounds, I don’t know where you are putting the weight.  I know you been getting a lot of exercise with all of your girlfriends – Kaya, Sophie, Erin, and Olive.”

“Can we go the woods again today, I had a great time yesterday…I like being off-leash in the woods.  What was the name of that park?  I really had fun chasing the Canada geese into the river.”

“White Pines State Park…and you were VERY good with every command I gave you – EVERY TIME – you really pay attention…GOOD BOY!”

“Thanks, but Border collies know how to pay attention.”

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BCBI AND CDBI CONCLUDE HISTORIC TALKS WITH PACT

-COLDSTREAM, SCOTLAND, U.K.

A historic convention between the BORDER COLLIE BEHAVIORAL INSTITUTE (BCBI) and the lesser known CATTLE DOG BEHAVIORAL INSTITUTE (CDBI) has resulted in the settlement of claims that arose from a tongue-in-cheek comment callously made in the blog of a BCBI member in the United States.  The commentary of BCBI member, Magic of Lenox, who authors the codemanbc publication, included unconfirmed and reckless wording that a CDBI member, Patrick of Shannondale, possessed a “character flaw,” a slanderous term that Patrick of Shannondale vehemently denies.  The week long convention set in the rolling, rocky, sheep-filled, hills north of Coldstream resulted in new and revised accords set forth by the dominant members of both Institutes:

  1. There will no changes in the Canine Intelligence Rating as set forth in various International publications.  The Border Collie will continue to be ranked #1 while the Cattle Dog (not to be referred to as the Cattle Collie) will continue to ranked #10.  The CDBI requested a formal vote be taken to move the Cattle Dog from the #10 positionto the #8 position, now occupied by the Papillon breed, but a misspelling on the ballot means that a formal vote will not occur until the next convention in 2017.
  2. The terms “character flaw” and “personality defect” will no longer be permitted by members of the BCBI when referring to members of the CDBI (even if the member of the CDBI does possess such traits, EMPHASIS ADDED).
  3. The CDBI Board of Regents adopted a modification to the frequently altered Official Cattle Dog (ODG) breed standard.  A DNA thread of at least 1.5% AND (emphasis added) possessing any amount of brown, black, gray fur WITH any amount of ticking, is now the MINIMUM standard to be included in the CDBI official membership.
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    Patrick of Shannondale after hearing of the convention’s decisions.  “I have ticking and I wear a tiny dinosaur on my collar ID, what’s the big deal?”

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    Magic of Lenox (left) conferring with an unnamed minion at the convention site in Coldstream.  “He (the petitioner) is such a pretender, I will always call him the Cattle Collie, I mean, Cattle Dog.  Is there a reason I am not called a Border Dog?    Think about it…

     

     

 

30 MINUTE APPOINTMENT WITH THE CANINE THERAPIST

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Meet Bella…her Mom was worried that she would hurt ME…really?  Bella was thinking…”now what?”

“Kelly is going to stop by with her new puppy, an eight week old yellow Lab.  Kelly is worried that the puppy will be a bit unruly with you…you OK with that?”

“Why would I be worried…are YOU worried?”

“No, not in the least…you always know what to do…you’re never aggressive, you are Mr. Steady…”

My Dad pays attention, I’ll give him that.  Mmmm…so, Kelly comes over on Saturday with the puppy and My Dad suggests that we start the therapy session outside.  For December in Chicago, sunny skies and the low 50’s is wonderful dog weather.  My Dad actually had to convince Kelly to place the puppy, Bella, on the ground.  Kelly was very concerned that Bella would be too aggressive with me.  My Dad trusts me…he knows I always adjust the level of play to the participant…easy-going, chase-me/chase-you, some wrestling, you kill me/I’ll kill you…no rough stuff.

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Ignoring the other dog and feigning disinterest encourages my subject to relax.  With Bella, she felt confident enough to engage me in about three minutes.

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Hah!  A surprise attack!  OK, Bella, you can kill me first!

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“Hey, Magic, you are a cool guy!”

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“C’mon!  Let’s wrestle!”

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“Hey, Bella, if you can catch me, you can kill me again.”

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“Awwwww, Magic, you’re not so fast…”

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“Oh, Bella…..you got me…”

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“OK, Bella, your turn…you be the sheep and I’ll be the wolf…”

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“Good work Bella!  The sheep fights off the wolf!”

And Bella took a nap right after we finished our session.   -Magic

THE CANINE THERAPIST FOR CANINES and THE TOY COLLECTOR

My Dad poured some old cereal outside today and the squirrels were there within…

“What?  Well, the squirrels eating the cereal happened a few minutes ago.  No, I don’t believe I need a new title…  Yes, yes, yes, I’ll get to my skills as a canine-therapist…yes, I will not forget to mention what happened at Patrick’s house.  Isn’t there a National Geographic that needs to be read?”

My Dad is always sticking his nose in when I start posting to MY blog…mmmph.  Well, anyway, I sat by the slider today watching the devil-may-care antics of six, maybe seven, squirrels, who were all jostling and positioning and arguing over which of them was going to sit on a pile of cereal My Dad had poured on the grass.  A mere seven feet separates me from my furry tormentors; their tails twitching, all hunched up as they chow-down on the cereal.  Last week by the dumpster, I out-smarted one of the garbage raiders…he chose the wrong exit point just as I was coming around the southwest corner of the trash enclosure.  I had him in my front paws, like trying to juggle…..a moving squirrel!  My Dad said that my squirrel catching efforts reminded him of Devil Sticks (see image).

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Devil Sticks.  Think of my paws as the handheld sticks and the third stick as the squirrel.  Well, that’s what My Dad saw

My Dad keeps asking me,

“And what would you do if you caught a squirrel, is that really your goal, or, you just like to scare them?”

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“Open the slider  s-l-o-w-l-y   so I can get a better view…”

 

My Dad continues to be amazed and flabbergasted at my ability to size up dogs, male and female, engage in some subtle communication, and have them playing with me within five minutes.  Although, I’ll have to admit, that getting the girls to play with me is pretty easy.  Crabby dogs, aggressive dogs, shy dogs, and dogs with self-esteem issues are no match for me.  A few pushes with my nose, backwards hopping, butt-up, head tilts and just ignoring them works the magic.  If I haven’t convinced them within 5 minutes, or so, I sit down with my back to them – they can’t stand it.  One Shi-Tsu, I met last month, whose name shall remain CONFIDENTIAL, was very yappy and snarly with me.  So, I ignored him.  Within minutes, while I was enjoying a chewy, he climbed on my back and started some suggestive movements – over and over and over – for the next hour.  Next time I looked at him he was taking a nap, go figure!  My Dad told me that Shi-Tsu was Chinese for moron…I’ll have to Google that.

Oh yes, I was a Patrick’s for a post-Thanksgiving dinner.  Patrick and I are good friends but throw another canine into the mix and he becomes MR. BOSSMAN…a character flaw I must stay alert to.  But Patrick does have a lot of toys and chew toys and I enjoyed rounding up those toys on the couch where I was relaxing.

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The Toy Collector at work

And some sad news…my dog-friend Bob, the Shar-Pei, was walking with his mom, Mary (I like her a lot!), one morning, and he was attacked by an Akita who had pulled away from his owner.  Bob was mortally wounded and was euthanized at the vet.

But, some good news also.  Mary adopted a young Shar-Pei, last week. He is from Texas and barks with a  d-r-a-w-l.  He is an “open-carry” guy.  He has had a tough beginning to his life and he can prove it – HE HAS ONLY THREE LEGS.  I stopped by his new forever home two days after his arrival.  He is a nice guy and we became friends immediately, go figure!

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My new friend, BEAR.  He is a Tripawd.  He is EXTREMELY sweet.

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Showing BEAR that I trust him.  He barks with a d-r-a-w-l…he is from Houston, TX.  BEAR said something about starting his own blog, http://www.adognamedbear.com

 

 

 

BACK IN CHICAGO, BACK IN THE GRIND

Another seagull, and another, I cannot catch them.  They tease me, wait until I am almost within reach of those tail feathers.  They open their wings and lift from the gentle waves, into the sky.  And then a squirrel is swimming next to them…whimper, growl, yip, yip….HUH?  WHAT?  My Dad is in the waves next to me?  What are you doing?  Here?  Oh, how embarrassing…I am dreaming and My Dad has been watching me, he is smiling, he places his gentle hand on my head.

“Let’s go to work!”

I love to go in the Scion xB to work with My Dad.  I no longer need a leash for the short walk to Scion.  The rear hatch opens and I jump right in.  I sit behind My Dad’s seat and watch everything, herd the cars, move back and forth, window to window.

Last Sunday, we drove to the South Loop area to serve paper.  My Dad was thwarted by a security guard at this exclusive high-rise, but that story has yet to be written…My Dad is very imaginative…he chose me, right?  And we went for a walk.  We found an interesting sculpture with three foxes, or are they Border collies?  The northeast corner of East 11th Street and Wabash, just west of Michigan Avenue.

My Dad thinks these are foxes...I thought Border collies.

My Dad thinks these are foxes…I thought Border collies, reading up on, and discussing herding techniques.

This is the north wall of a 1960’s something parking garage located on East 8th Street, across from the Hilton Hotel on Michigan Avenue.

East 8th Street, south of Hilton Hotel on Michigan Avenue.  I was bored.

East 8th Street, south of Hilton Hotel on Michigan Avenue. I was bored.

OREGON DEPARTURE and GET-HOME-ITIS

Our last day at the beach was spent at (the secluded) Falcon Cove.  The tide was out, the weather was amazing, and I was OFF-LEASH – because I am a VERY good boy.  Although I was trusted to be OFF-LEASH our entire time at Falcon Cove, I do not stray far from My Dad, I do not bother anyone else, I do not bother other dogs…but I LOVE to chase sea gulls.  Falcon Cove is a secret. No signs, no advertised public access, a challenging walk to the beach on a steep gravel/dirt path (so easy for a Border collie).

We spent several hours walking Astoria, Oregon.  Visited the weekend Farmer's Market, shopped and rested.

We spent several hours walking Astoria, Oregon. Visited the weekend Farmer’s Market, shopped and rested.

Want a beach all to yourself?  Falcon Cove is it!

Want a beach all to yourself? Falcon Cove is it!

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I became very attached to My Dad's sister, Mary.  She found 112 sand dollars at Falcon Cove.  They smelled.....interesting.

I became very attached to My Dad’s sister, Mary. She found 112 sand dollars at Falcon Cove. They smelled…..interesting.

Tuesday morning, September 8th, we began our trek to the east.  We dropped Mary at PDX, picked up I-84 east (a very noisy surface to this road) and spent the first night in Ontario, Oregon at a dog-friendly Clarion Inn.  Wednesday morning, we crossed into Idaho and made a lunch stop in Mountain Home, the location of Mountain Home Air Force Base.

This is an F-111 fighter-bomber, later relegated to a bomber.  My Dad remembers these from his Vietnam days.

This is an F-111 fighter-bomber, later relegated to a bomber. My Dad remembers these from his Vietnam days.

An F-111 during the Vietnam era.

An F-111 during the Vietnam era.

We dropped down into Utah and picked up I-80 and we arrived in Evanston, Wyoming, just after 7:00 p.m.  After checking in to our room at Comfort Inn, My Dad and I drove to the Business District and walked around.

The STRAND Theater now...

The STRAND Theater now…

...the STRAND Theater in 1923...

…the STRAND Theater in 1923…

...and the STRAND Theater in 1970...

…and the STRAND Theater in 1970…

The Union Pacific Railroad continues to have a large presence in Evanston, WY.  Former facilities included a maintenance building, a round-house and a power house.  The maintenance building and part of the round-house have been restored and are National Historic sites.  The Power house is a bit forlorn looking.

Power house in Evanston, built in 1913.  A bit tired looking but quite beautiful in the setting sun.

Power house in Evanston, built in 1913. A bit tired looking but quite beautiful in the setting sun.

The following morning, it was on to our last overnight – Grand Island, Nebraska.  The final push into Chicago was paused in Stuart, Iowa, home to a Bonnie and Clyde bank robbery in 1934.

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The Hotel Stuart now...

The Hotel Stuart now…

The Hotel Stuart in 1938, across from the Rock Island Railroad Depot.

…the Hotel Stuart in 1938, across from the Rock Island Railroad Depot.

We arrived home at 11:22 p.m.  I got a walk and went to bed.

SEAGULL HARASSMENT -and- ICE CREAM AT TILLAMOOK

I still find it hard to believe that My Dad unhooks me at the beach.  JOY!  HAPPINESS!  SPRINTING!  RUNNING!  MAKING FRIENDS!  AND CHASING SEAGULLS!

FREEDOM!   JOY!  OFF-LEASH!

FREEDOM! JOY! OFF-LEASH!

I met a tall lanky four year old female yesterday afternoon.  Her name was Ella….after a few moments of introduction, we took both took off on some high-speed circuits of the beach.  I can run full speed and still tuck my butt in.  I was a bit faster than her.  Two other dogs inserted themselves into our chase-me, chase-you games.  I had to apply FULL brakes to avoid a collision…my skid marks were three feet long!

I'm giving the seagulls a respite.

I’m giving the seagulls a respite.

Ella was GREAT at chase-me, chase-you pursuit games!

Ella was GREAT at chase-me, chase-you pursuit games!

Finishing up the Tillamook Ice Cream...my eyes are closed for a reason...yummmmm...

Finishing up the Tillamook Ice Cream…my eyes are closed for a reason…yummmmm…

Ella asked me if I was a model for Modern Dog magazine

Ella asked me if I was a model for Modern Dog magazine

I am an active participant when we go bye-bye-in the car.

I am an active participant when we go bye-bye-in the car.