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A Yak and the Doodles

I've been pretty busy this past month with the additions to our home/ranch. For the most part, it has gone well.

The month has had challenges, like acclimating a year-old bull yak to its new home. I'm pretty happy with the progress considering when I introduced the new yak to Elaine while it was still in the livestock trailer the yak started bucking and ramming the walls of the trailer. I can't be sure if the yak was offended because Elaine mentioned how cute he was. No self-respecting bull yak wants to be identified as cute.

I put the unnamed yak in the corral with no problem. The yak immediately befriended Mac the Yak and has been within ten feet of Mac since their introduction.

We haven't made progress in the naming of the new yak. All of the names seem to be following a food theme. Boy Twin is sticking to his original suggestion of naming the yak, "Dinner'. Girl Twin and Ivy suggested "Beans", although Ivy has changed her suggestion. We will get to that in a minute. Elaine originally wanted to name him Mini-Mac. Her thought was we would have M&M. Ivy has changed her suggestion to JBC, Junior Bacon Cheeseburger. Elaine likes JBC, also.

I don't think he needs a name. We have had Mac for more than ten years. Not once has he acknowledged that I am talking to him when haven I said his name. He will however come when he hears me whistle at feeding time.

Gordon, the puppy with the white face introduced himself to the yaks yesterday. It didn't go all that well. I can only guess if Gordon could run faster than the yaks, or if he had a head start, but everyone was running at top speed including Elaine and myself. Something happened to prevent certain disaster.

The yaks stopped running at the corral fence. Gordon ducked under the fence and kept running. Elaine, nor I got to the fence. Gordon, when he realized he was safe, turned and barked at the yaks. Goose, the black-faced puppy just watched.

After at least six rolls (1500 sheets) of paper towels I am glad to say house training appears to be successful. Thank God for the large packages of paper towels people can buy from the membership stores. Training would have been worse if we had not blocked off the carpeted areas of the house.

In choosing the breed of the puppies, Elaine wanted a breed that typically doesn't shed. Our Great Pyrenees shed profusely. Elaine was tired of vacuuming three times a day. I agreed although I seldom vacuum, I do wear a black coat that attracts white hair.

Elaine read somewhere that Poodles and Poodle-mixes do not shed. I had never read that, I write but don't read. (Calm down, it's a joke.) I do have experience with a Poodle. My mother had a Poodle. Cherie might have been the meanest, most protective dog that has other lived.

Cherie protected my mom and her possessions, especially Mom's shoes and purse. Cherie would lie on, or next to Mom's stuff and dare you to touch them. One of my brothers would kick mom's stuff to get Cherie to attack. Cherie didn't know or care that she was a miniature poodle, she would attack like the Rambo of the dog world.

It wasn't just my brother. Our next-door neighbor tried Cherie once. Cherie jumped up and bit him on the (construction language) and hung on. My Mom was laughing and couldn't get Cherie to let go. That made her laugh more. Rick never tried Cherie again.

I don't recall Cherie shedding. Maybe what Elaine read was correct. We agreed to a Poodle mix. It was the mix part that needed to be discussed. I wanted a farm/ranch high-energy dog. Boy did we get that. Twice!

Goose and Gordon are either sleeping or running. Elaine is trying to teach them to cuddle. Elaine is only semi-successful. If they are ready to sleep, they will cuddle, but...........


It may surprise you but sometimes I will fall asleep in the recliner watching television. Goose has learned he can jump into my lap on the recliner. That'll wake you up. I think that dog has a little Cherie in him.

If awake, the puppies are behind me wanting to go everywhere I go, outside with me or waiting at the bathroom door. Shoot, my kids didn't do that. I can only do my chores when they are sleeping.

As I sit here and type Gordon ran by with a coaster from the table next to the recliner. He's headed outside. I'll be back in a minute.

Sometimes I forget, but these are yarn stories. Elaine and I (mostly me) have collected eleven ounces (which is a lot) of yak hair off of Mac so far this year. He just keeps shedding. The total ounces will go up, now that I'm retired and have the time to collect it. Sadly for me, Elaine is all fired up about turning the yak hair into yarn by blending it with silk AFTER I DYE THE SILK. ME, I DYE THE SILK. Then she started talking about having more hair off the new yak next year. How does this happen? I'm supposed to be retired.

Our crazy lives!



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