Dam adventures

Well here I am its 3am in the morning, I'm wide awake, my mind won't sleep so I may as well get up and type. My last (and only) exam for this semester was yesterday so I'm in that strange post study state where one slowly adjusts to another life that has been on hold for the semester. I finished a couple of jobs yesterday afternoon that had been waiting for that post exam state. The next two days are booked for helping to set up an exhibition here in town. Then its the Festival of Voice over the June long weekend. There are a few events that I am planning on experiencing.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch ... well here at home. The puppies are eight weeks old on Thursday and head off to their new homes this coming weekend. I have been observing how rapidly they grow and develop their independence. When locking up the chooks this evening with Miske and her tribe tearing along, while closing the bottom gate, they decided they needed to venture into the bottom paddock and slipped through the gate. Fine. But before you knew it they were tearing down the hill to the dam for one last paddle and play before sundown. Five black and white beasties gallivanting on the steep white slope of the dam. The water fascinates them. They reminded me of haggises ( I don't know if that is how it is spelt) those lop sided mythological animals that frequent the steep hillsides of Scotland. Even with all their rough and tumble they do no more than half a roll before they regain their footing. I think they enjoy the challenge.

I've been trying to teach them to fetch sticks out of the water - yes I know - they are young. They intensely watch Miske fetching her big stick after it splashes into the dam when thrown. Zoe has done a dive into the water just like Miske - but she hasn't repeated her effort. Angus has collected some little sticks from the water and brought them out, but only those bits within reach without actually swimming. Although he has accidentally gone swimming when he suddenly found he'd lost his footing. They try to pick up stones from under the water on the edge but baulk at the sensation of a submerged nose.

Whereas when they were younger as soon as they were called they'd come tearing after you, now they are just as likely to stay put if they are still having fun - though as soon as they realise they are the last one left behind they high tail it home. That independent spirit tells me they are ready to go, but it will be a sadness, it always is, each one of them is a lovely little personality. And they are so loving. Yesterday morning Mark let them out of their pen before I'd got up to do their breakfast. They all came tearing into the bedroom, tails wagging furiously, bouncing up and down, trying to jump onto the bed where I was. Lift them up and you are buried under an avalanche of wriggling puppy all trying to get a piece of your attention.