Sarabelle

“Give them liks and walk on wet dert then more liks.”

“Sarabelle, I'll be living in an area that is more condusive to owning a dog, and I'm thinking about getting one. I'll probably get one from the pound, but was wondering your thoughts as to one what breed I should look for and what breeds I should stay away from.”

“Do not get a choklet lab. Some buddys are lergic to choklet.

Chwawas are weerd. Chaloopy is a weerd chwawa!

Weeny dogs are ok but they do not ressel reel good and run verry fast.

Get a Gissmo if you want a hamsom hubsand.

Just look at all the nother dogs and find a frendly dog. Frendly is portant. Frendly dogs wiggel ther tales good. You will kno who is frendly by tale wiggels.”

“Hey sarabelle- have you ever bitten anyone?”

“Thanks sarabelle! :-)”

“Sorry I misunderstood. It musta been my code and code medisin that made me think and talk goofy. You advice about naps was really good. Thanks.”

“"It will be ok to eet trowts if they are not ded with guts inless you are a kittykitty - ew!".
/o:3"
sarabelle
09:14:24 AM
03/10/03



Meow??”

“I gave my daddy a perdy good bite be for.

We was playin "gimmedat" and I membered that he sayed some bad theengs about some buddy at tt. I theenk he sayed "Miss Shunshine got a stinky butt like a kittykitty".

Any ways, when I membered what he sayed I BIT OFF MY DADDYS FEENGER!

Not OFF off but jus reeeeeel bleedy.

Kno what? My daddy cride like a baybe puppy! BOL!”

“Ummm, Sarabelle, that is not nice. You wouldn't like it if your daddy bit your paw, now, would you?”

“If enny buddy tride to bite off my foot I wold BITE OFF THER HED!

I am SERRYESS!”

“I say, if you have the teeth go for it :) YAY FOR SARABELLE!

The most tail-waggy tter.”

“Meow?”

“cats make good bedfellows”

“I wold not bite off no buddys hed prolly. I was jus mad.

Kno what?
I AM MAD AT MY HUBSAND GISSMO!


Theengs was perty good. The nother day me and my daddy and Gissmo was lookin at TB. I sayed "Hay! That buddy on TB looks JUS LIKE GISSMO! And Gissmo sayed "I look like THAT?!" and I sayed "yes" and Gissmo sayed "I gess I AM perty hamsom!" and I sayed "yes you are perty hamsom like I awreddy sayed."

Then I sayed "you are so hamsom that I am whorny" and Gissmo sayed "I am whorny to" and he sayed "lets do seks" and I sayed "ok".

So I done some sniffys and he done some kwikky likkys. Then Gissmo chewd a siggerret in the trash tray.

Then the nother day when Cooter and Chaloopy was vissits I seen Gissmo HUNCHIN ON COOTER! and Chaloopy was HUNCHIN ON GISSMO! THEM HORS! I was VERRY MAD and rund over ther with my gimmedat and shaked and shaked and shaked my gimmedat and derts and leefs and grass and hares flide in the air and ever buddy sayed "OH MY GOODYS! I can not breeve verry good!" and coffed and coffed and sneeds and sneeds and rund the nother way.

I did not say NO THEENG agin to Gissmo cuz I am still mad at him!”

“That two-timing, profligate cheater!”

“Hissssssss!!!!!!!!!!!”

“"kwikky likkys"

ROFLMAO!!!!!”

“"THEM HORS"

... Still laughing!

Thanks, Sarabelle, I needed a good belly laugh!”

“Kno what?
When we got home the nother day we seen a DED BAYBE COW in the cow yard!

Me and my daddy sayed "o pore ded baybe cow over ther on the nother side of the fents ded."

And Gissmo sayed "he is prolly jus trikky" and he walked under the fents and sneeked to the baybe ded cow and done some sniffys and the ded baybe cow WAS NOT DED!

Then Gissmo yelled and sayed "get up you baybe cow!" and the baybe cow got up and walked aroun a leetle and tride to KIK GISSMOS HED! and Gissmo keeped yellin at the baybe cow and he walked aroun some more and his mama yelled "I am over heer baybe cow!" and the baybe cow walked aroun som more to his mama and dreenkt on her teats.

I am prowd of my brabe hubsand that did not let the baybe cow lay down and get ded.”

“Sarabelle, quit using gojo's account!”

“LOL, she is staring to sound like me with my password prob.”

“Sometimes Psycho Squirrel uses HPM's account.”

“no way?”

“As far as I know, Mr. Hyde has never used my account, but there's always a first time....”

“She just HAD to get the story out first thing this a.m.

It was really cool to watch Gizmo exercise his little herding skills.

That was actually the second time (as far as I am aware) that he's made a newborn calf stand up. Otherwise, the calves would prolly lay there and die. I don't understand why mama cows don't nudge the live "still borns" to their feet.

Gizmo doesn't care about that, tho. He just does what comes natural. It's funny - he will mill around the cows without as much as a second look at them, but when he comes across a still newborn, he instinctively knows to make them rise.

He doesn't bother any other lying cows and/or calves - just the newborns.

One night last fall we were awakened by the landlord snooping around the yard. He was trying to catch-up a cow that had escaped the pasture.

A half-hour later, the dogs started barking again. It was Reynold - still chasing the cow. I offered assistance, and he accepted. I put on pants and grabbed the flashlight. The kids and I took off in search of the escapee. The flashlight was drained to about one-half of one candle power, so it was not *that much* of a surprise when we unwittingly walked to within 10 feet of the 1000 pound black behemoth.

I startled, and took a couple of steps back. Sarabelle followed my lead, and courageously stood her ground... behind me. Gizmo, however, had other plans.

It was about this time that Gizmo gained an understanding of what was going on. "O! You want THAT cow to go into THAT gate?"

Little Giz went on the attack. The cow stood her ground, tho. But Giz pressed and pressed. He darted from left to right to forward - but never backward. The cow kept her head down, facing Gizmo. I swear that Giz nipped her nose *just* enough times to get the cow to finally turn. Once she turned, Gizmo knew he had her where he wanted her. He continued to press, and the cow bucked, then trotted, then finally galloped toward the fence. She was in a corner, but Gizmo kept pressing to the right. The cow soon turned left, and ran the length of the fence to the opened gate (illuminated by the headlights of Reynold's truck). Gizmo was steadily on her heels. She COULD NOT enter the gate soon enough. As soon as the chased and chaser entered the gate, Reynold slammed it shut. One quick "tweet" from me, and Giz was soon back at our sides.

He's quite a little sport.




Imagine the described scenario being played out in the backcountry. Now, substitute the cow with a bear......”

“Or Mapleleaf's stalker.”

“Sarabelle, that is quite a story :) You should give your husband a big sloppy kiss :D”

“Hi pretty nice sarabelle! I didn't know you got yourself a husband! Ask your daddy to tell me what kind of expert herding dog he let you marry.”

“He is verry hamsom cuz he is a ferrat terrerrerr.

I gess ever buddy will see him at Maypril woods walkin pardy.”

“We had dogs throughout my childhood. Yoyo and Pablo were "mine". Our nearest neighbor was two miles away, so Yodi and Pab were my primary playmates.

At the age of 24, I bought a six week old black lab for $25.00. I had Claudell put down on April 14th, 1997 - two months before his 15th birthday. He was one terrific companion.



Then came Belle, and later, Gizmo.
I have never enjoyed a dog more than I have these two.

Two nights ago, I almost died on my lawn. If it's possible to die from laughter, I'm lucky to be alive now.

The usual routine is funny enough, but Tuesday hit an all time high on the Hilariometer.

The game is "Gimmedat". The rules are simple: when the opponent (that would be me) shouts "Gimmedaaaaaaaat!", Sarabelle is required to fetch her yard blanket (not to be confused with her house blanket).

She then charges her opponent in a gait that resembles no other gait in the animal kingdom. This gait is of a type necessary to avoid tripping over a dragging blanket while at the same time travelling at top speed.

Sarabelles objective is to at once "gimmedat", yet not give nobody nothing. So she darts in and out of reach - vigorously shaking the gimmedat. Sometimes I'll grab the gimmedat and run as fast as I can. She never releases the blanket, but instead runs alongside me. We often circumnavigate the house in this fashion.

Then came Gizmo.
After a crash course in the rules of the game, he became the "nother" competitor, and I was relegated to the sideline. I've since come to appreciate the game more as a spectator than I ever did as a combatant.

I often roll in the grass laughing uncontrollably, but Tuesday evening reached new heights.

Typically, Belle will literally rub the blanket in Gizmos face until he reaches a heightened state of rage - which takes anywhere from .09 to 1.5 seconds.

Once "angry", Gizmo attacks the blanket. The game is on at that point. Giz hangs on for dear life. He swears, snarls, and calls Sarabelle everything but a yellow woman.

Belle drags him around and around and around the yard. Giz is sometimes ejected ala "Crack the Whip", but Belle is quick to get the blanket back in his face, and Giz is just as quick to counterattack.

These games can sometimes last a solid hour. It never gets old to me - I'll sit and watch and laugh as long as they're willing to continue their play.

Needless to say, the nigh three year old yard blanket is full of holes. Tuesday night, Gizmo managed to get netted in one of the smaller holes. They continued the game without a timeout (rule 3.25.67). They played for an additional 10 minutes while Gizmo was stuck in the hole. Sarabelle either didn't realize that Giz was stuck, or she simply didn't care. It didn't seem to matter to Gizmo, either. Though he was being slung around like a helpless rag doll, he continued to vent his rage, and play by the rules as best he could.

It was the funniest thing I have ever witnessed. Ever.”

“That is a riot!

Dogs are amazing.”

“We had dogs throughout my childhood. Yoyo and Pablo were "mine". Our nearest neighbor was two miles away, so Yodi and Pab were my primary playmates.

At the age of 24, I bought a six week old black lab for $25.00. I had Claudell put down on April 14th, 1997 - two months before his 15th birthday. He was one terrific companion.



Then came Belle, and later, Gizmo.
I have never enjoyed a dog more than I have these two.

Two nights ago, I almost died on my lawn. If it's possible to die from laughter, I'm lucky to be alive now.

The usual routine is funny enough, but Tuesday hit an all time high on the Hilariometer.

The game is "Gimmedat". The rules are simple: when the opponent (that would be me) shouts "Gimmedaaaaaaaat!", Sarabelle is required to fetch her yard blanket (not to be confused with her house blanket).

She then charges her opponent in a gait that resembles no other gait in the animal kingdom. This gait is of a type necessary to avoid tripping over a dragging blanket while at the same time travelling at top speed.

Sarabelles objective is to at once "gimmedat", yet not give nobody nothing. So she darts in and out of reach - vigorously shaking the gimmedat. Sometimes I'll grab the gimmedat and run as fast as I can. She never releases the blanket, but instead runs alongside me. We often circumnavigate the house in this fashion.

Then came Gizmo.
After a crash course in the rules of the game, he became the "nother" competitor, and I was relegated to the sideline. I've since come to appreciate the game more as a spectator than I ever did as a combatant.

I often roll in the grass laughing uncontrollably, but Tuesday evening reached new heights.

Typically, Belle will literally rub the blanket in Gizmos face until he reaches a heightened state of rage - which takes anywhere from .09 to 1.5 seconds.

Once "angry", Gizmo attacks the blanket. The game is on at that point. Giz hangs on for dear life. He swears, snarls, and calls Sarabelle everything but a yellow woman.

Belle drags him around and around and around the yard. Giz is sometimes ejected ala "Crack the Whip", but Belle is quick to get the blanket back in his face, and Giz is just as quick to counterattack.

These games can sometimes last a solid hour. It never gets old to me - I'll sit and watch and laugh as long as they're willing to continue their play.

Needless to say, the nigh three year old yard blanket is full of holes. Tuesday night, Gizmo managed to get netted in one of the smaller holes. They continued the game without a timeout (rule 3.25.67). They played for an additional 10 minutes while Gizmo was stuck in the hole. Sarabelle either didn't realize that Giz was stuck, or she simply didn't care. It didn't seem to matter to Gizmo, either. Though he was being slung around like a helpless rag doll, he continued to vent his rage, and play by the rules as best he could.

It was the funniest thing I have ever witnessed. Ever.”

“Sounds like a riot. Too bad you don't have a live video feed so we can almost die of laughter, too!”

“I had tears in my eyes while I read that. Pets can be too much sometimes!”

“We need a sarabellecam!”

“Too funny gojo!”

“What would you do if some snake was after YOUR kitty?”

“Excellent! Dogs are the greatest animals in the world, bar none. People aren't as good as dogs, even!”

“Hissssss!!!!!

Meow!”

“CATS SUCK.”

“PHAEDRUS SUCKS.”

“wraaaarrrrrrrowwwww”

“Things on this board have been pretty "heavy" lately. You always have good trip reports. Do you have one to post? Maybe you can help us get back to talking about packpacking.”