fort-funtown

Interesting rock

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Interesting rock at Fort Funston last weekend.

Jellyfish

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Jellyfish on the Fort Funston beach.

Driftwood log, part 2

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On our recent hike to Ft. Funston, we found a tree embedded in the beach. It had some worm burrows on it.

Driftwood log

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On our recent hike to Ft. Funston, we found a tree embedded in the beach. It had some worm burrows on it.

Not Blue.

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Okay, so, there were other parts of today's hike that weren't about Blue (no, really!).

Andy shows me that we're here! Yay, the beach!

We found a really big tire on the beach:

Bella was very puppy-dog on the beach, with her ears flapping in the wind:

A very happy Bella:

Annie found a dead seal on the beach, and showed it to me just before she rolled all over it.

Poof! New beagle!

All in all, a good day:

Confuse 'em

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Andy IM'd this morning and asked if we were interested in taking the dogs to the park. Go outside and play? Uh, yes? Kris had plans at noon, so wanted only to go to the local park. We went off to the park, three people, four dogs in tow.

I expected each dog to do his usual thing: Bella would sniff everything along the perimeter; Annie would run run run, then sniff along the perimeter, waiting for a lapse in our awareness to make her escape; Blue would chase the disc as long as Andy threw it; and Shadow would alternate between playing defense on Blue and hovering near one of the people for a quick snuggle.

To my surprise, Bella came out to play with us, chasing one of us when someone was running around, and dodging us when one of us was chasing her. She artfully zipped among the three of us, swerving in and out, juking one way and dashing the other when we made to cut her off. Bella pretended to be a 2 year old dog, and endeared her little heart to us.

Shadow also surprised me by chasing me down, nipping at my legs and herding me back to the pack when I tried to run down Annie, who had "wandered" away. When I turned on him and started chasing him, Andy and Kris joined in, turning the herder into the herdee.

When we were done, Andy asked if I was interested in heading to Ft. Funston, confuse the dogs by giving them not one, but TWO outings. I was up for it, so off we went. Although the trip was billed as a "fool the dogs and go on a hike," in reality it was, "display how inaccurate Kitt's timing is with her new camera."

Andy asked if I could take a picture of Blue mid-air. Sure! So, throughout the hike, I took pictures of Blue. Note, I didn't say I "took pictures of Blue mid-air." No, that would have required good timing on my part. instead, I managed an off-frame picture of Blue:

A distant shot of Blue:

A close shot of Blue:

Blue chasing birds in the surf:

Blue eating sand:

Way after a catch:

Just a little after the catch:

Waaaaaay before the catch to compensate:

And so far before the catch, Blue was still spinning:

But, you know, you take enough pictures, ONE of them is bound to be good, right?

Of course, there's the shot of Andy, to prove he was there, too:

Of my dogs, well, I have a lot of pictures of their butts:


Evening Ft. Funtown!

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Went to Ft. Funston (Fun Town!) with the Andy and the dogs yesterday. Andy already had already had a full day, so we ended up leaving late in the afternoon. Having never been except in the morning, I was curious how the experience would change.

Well, it was foggy. Does that count?

I, surprising everyone but me, didn't take my camera along for any part other than the drive over. Managed a lot of lovely photos of the dogs in the truck, but that conveys not much.

The dogs listen to Kris, they don't listen much to me. They may react slightly to my voice, and their names, but, for the most part, all they hear is "BLAH! BLAH BLAH BLAH!"

Kris, however, is in Colorado this weekend, so Andy and I played zone defense with the dogs, one on two. On the hike around Ft. Funston, we went the opposite way the three of us normally go, several people commented, "Wow, have enough dogs?" My thoughts, "Only four? Nah!"

At one point, Annie decided to run ahead of us. Since we were walking in the opposite direction, the first part of the run was close to the highway. The first part of the walk - you know, the part where Annie has boundless energy, and wants to fo run run running. The highway seemed like just as good of a place as any direction.

Silly dog.

After yelling at her every time she wandered toward the highway, I'd run along in front of her to show her where I wanted her to run. She'd run along next to me, then pass me ("I'm the alpha dog! I need to be in front!"), running somewhat along the path, but not quite.

At one point, Annie ran ahead, towards the cliff. Rather than stopping at the edge, she ran up and over. Full sprint.

Images of the warning sign of the "Aroo?" dog falling off the cliff in my head, I started to run after her. Andy, being a bit more rational at the moment, called to me, "this way!" and starting running down the path which lead along the top of the sand cliffs and down to the beach. Full sprint I ran, trying to keep up with him, as he ran along and down.

Eventually, I rounded the corner of the cliff and sprinted back down the beach towards Annie, worrying about her, wondering how far she fell down the cliff. As I rounded one of the corner, I found her, munching happily on a dead seagull.

Stupid dog.

Demon dog Annie

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Since she's been on antibiotics and in the cone, Annie, the walking antibiotic dog, has stopped gnawing at her leg. I started her on benadryl so that, come Tuesday, she could go on her all-day, off-leash hike. After three weeks in the cone, except for Ft Funtown! she's been in the cone and realy hating life. I can't imagine how sitting in a smelly cone all day, using it as a battering ram, could possibly not be the most boring life ever.

Well, off Annie went, and, when Kris picked her up, Amber, the dog walker, commented that yeah, Annie ran off, but well, Amber herself didn't really worry about the dog too much, as she always seems to meet back up with the group near the end of the walk. At one point, Amber was slightly worried, and was getting ready to radio to the following group behind her to watch out for Annie, when Amber, demonstrating for Kris, lifted an arm and pointed into nowhere, "saw her running in the distance."

That's Annie for you.

When she came home on Tuesday night, she was totally exhausted. She couldn't keep her eyes open and spent the whole evening sleeping. Since I knew she had ticks on her, I didn't let her into the bedroom on Tuesday night, and didn't notice anything unusual. Wednesday morning, as we were nearly walking out the door to head to VS, Kris reached over to pet her good-bye and she looked up.

Both eyes were livid red.

I don't mean albino red eyes, I mean her inner eyelids wouldn't drop, and both eyes were bright, inflamed, blood red balls peering back out of us.

"What's wrong with her?" Kris cried out.

I looked at her, in my vast veterinary experience, and concluded her inner eyelids weren't dropping. (Oh, amazing conclusion of mine.) One of her eyes opened, so I said it was okay to leave, I'd come home early and check her out in the afternoon.

Well, by the evening, her eyes were still inflamed, so I called the emergency vet. She said, if Annie wasn't scratching or clawing at it, waiting until the next morning to see our regular vet was fine. If she was clawing at her eye, then she probably had a foxtail in her eye, and she should come in.

She wasn't scratching at it, but I couldn't tell if that was because she was on benadryl, or because it just didn't bother her. Though, not being able to see out an eye would bother me.

Guy took her to the vet today, and sure enough, she had a foxtail in her eye. The vet pulled it out, "it was gross, but really cool!" according to Guy. The vet also found a cornea scratch on her eye with a black light.

And now, Annie, the walking antibiotic dog, has one more series of antibotics to run through. If she didn't love these offleash hikes so much, I'd consider stopping them. However, they tire her out, if only for one day.

And for that one day a week, she's actually a good dog.