The Molly Chronicles

                               Squirrel patrol can be dangerous.Here I am hot on the trail of a perpetrator.

                                                     The tricky part is getting back down.

Molly

The Molly Chronicles

Hi, Everyone,

Some of you noted that border collies and Australian shepherds are used to working all day long, and you wondered, given my border collie/Aussie heritage, what I do for a living.

It's true that I don't have any sheep or goats to tend, and I miss that. Sometimes I herd other white fuzzy animals like dogs and chickens and cats. Humans tend to get very excited when I try to herd cats and chickens.

One of my many responsibilities is to protect the back yard from squirrels. They get into the birdseed, and make a mess out of the bird feeder. Also, they have no respect for noble dogs like me, but climb up into the trees and chatter and laugh at me.

Here are some shots of me mitigating the squirrel menace:

I first set eyes on the enemy:

Patiently, I stalk my prey.

Cunning, crafty, he makes his assault on the bird feeder.

Has he no shame??????

I make my move. Bark, bark bark, growl, growl, you're squirrel meat.

All quiet on the western front.

Just another day's work for a noble dog.

I think I'll take a nap.

Molly

 

The Molly Chronicles

Hi, I'm back again.

I found one more Australian shepherd I'm related to. It's Cisco's great, great grandson, Sundance. He was named after a human who robbed trains, which was a really bad idea for a name if you ask me.

At that time in Hangtown, there was this place called Kate's Saloon where male humans like to drink orange water and watch female humans kick up their legs and show their crotches.

Kate was the alpha female there, and she had this little frou-frou dog called Madame Fifi. When all the kicking was over, Kate used to bounce to the front and lifte her skirt. Then Madame Fifi would jump out of Kate's undies, do a dog dance and run around to the bar where someone would give her a piece of bacon.

Well, one day, Sundance was taking a dog nap just outside Kate's saloon and he woke up just as Madame Fifi was doing her dance. Madame Fifi smelled good. She smelled really REALLY good. Sundance ran into the saloon, jumped Madame Fifi and enveloped her in a  firm embrace. The humans hollered and tried to grab Sundance, but there was no stopping him, a fool in love.

Kate shrieked. She'd paid a lot money for Madame Fifi, which is a big deal to humans. Sundance got into trouble.

Later Madame Fifi gave birth to five colliedoodles who didn't know anything about sheep.

The Molly Chronicles

My human friend Linda says that I should appologize to chickens everywhere.

Sorry, chickens for saying you're stupid, and for wanting to eat you.

Linda also says that chickens will sometimes faint or play dead when they're in danger, and that's probably what Jessie was doing.

If you want to read about heroic chickens, check out "The Flea Market Manifesto" and it's sequel, "The Last Paparazzo" written by my human Elaine. They are thrill-packed tales of magic, love, and poultry, starring Franklin D. Roostervelt and his paramour, Winnie. My human says it's really a story about humans, but for my money, Franklin and Winnie are the most important characters. Just scroll down past all the "Temporary Address" posts and cluck (chicken humor - ha ha. Get it???) on "The Flea Market Manifesto" or "The Last Paparazzo.  Posts are on the right side of the blog.

Molly signing off.

The Molly Chronicles

Hi,
It's me, Molly, back again. So I'm learning more about the Australian shepherd side of my family. And remember I told you about Sadie, the Aussie that started - well - read the previous post. It'll tell you who Sadie was.
Cisco was Sadie's son, and, I'm ashamed to say it, was a chicken rustler and a garbage scrounger, but it wasn't his fault. If humans leave garbage at dog nose level, well, what do they expect of us? We're only canine. And besides, back in Cisco's day when the West was wild, all the garbage went for pig slop. Now I ask you, who's more deserving - a noble dog or a blubbery pig?????

Cisco

And as for the chicken incident, chickens are dumb and they're all peck, plock, cluck, flutter, peck, cluck.
So one day, this hen, Jessie, got out into the carrot patch and was scratching and cluck-plocking.

Well, Cisco ran at the carrot patch with his hackles on chicken alert, just snarling and growling ready to give her what for.

That's when his female human noticed the activity, and instead of praising Cisco for his courage, started calling and yelling and stomping her feet. But for some reason Cisco got a temporary attack of deafness just then, and instead of coming to his human, he gruff-ruffed right at the stupid chicken. (All chickens are stupid.) And he took a bite out of the chicken, and, by the time the human got there, the stupid chicken was lying all soggy and not moving - not so much as a twitch or a flutter. And Cisco was trying to paw the feathers out of his mouth.

Well Cisco's person was furious. We dogs don't understand ALL the words, (Except that border collies and Aussies understand more than most.) but we can understand screaming and hand waving all over the place. By the way, we also understand "shit, shit, shit".

Back in those days, a dog that kills chickens is a dead dog walking, so poor Cisco was dragged back to the farmhouse and tied up to a hitching post for horses. Naturally, Cisco got to chewing on the rope, but, before he could free himself, his human muzzled him with a fat old belt.

That night, the male human came in from the fields and got out his shotgun, and dragged ol' Cisco by the rope to a spot behind the chicken coop.

He really wasn't a bad human. it's just that back then killing chickens was a criminal offense punishable by getting shot.

So this human sat down next to Cisco and scratched his ears and his chest 'cause he really loved Cisco in spit of his failings. But the human knew what he had to do. He picked up the shotgun and took aim and - wouldn't you know it - there was Jessie just a a struttin' and a cluckin' and not dead at all. And acting like she was a smart dog instead of a dumb chicken.


                                                        Jessie - the dumb chicken

So they stuffed a bunch of chicken feathers, and mud, and straw, and more feathers into an old flour sack and tied the sack around Cisco's neck, and Cisco had to drag that old sack around for a week.

After that he left the chickens alone.

But he still got into the garbage once in a while.

The Molly Chronicles

So I've been researching my lineage on Ancestry.com, and, remember, I'm related to the great border collies, Old Hemp, and Mirk, and the world renown Wiston Cap. That's on my father's side. Well, my mother was an Aussie - an Australian shepherd. The funny thing is - no one in the family lived in Australia. They just herded Australian sheep in a place called California.

I can trace my line back to great, great, lots-of-greats, grandmother Sadie, who lived about fifty miles east of Sacramento. That was back in the wild west days. So she and her human Jimmie were out on patrol when suddenly this gopher - the biggest gopher you'd ever want to see - poked his whiskers up from the ground and started giving Sadie some serious attitude. Like  "I dare you to catch me."

Sadie all ready to pounce

In no time at all, Sadie was head deep up to her shoulders in the hole, and brick-orange dirt was flying around like mosquitoes in August. Faster and harder - Sadie kept digging, harder and harder still. Clay, small rocks, chunks of tree roots, they all got launched through the air.

Well, wouldn't you know it - a small rock hit Jimmie Marshall in the head, and when he picked it up, he noticed it was shiny. And that was when he went all discombobulated. He was whoopin' and stompin' and hollerin' like a cow on loco weed, and he ran all the way into town yelling "Gold!!!!  Gold!!!!" So that's how they say James Marshall discovered gold in California.

They never did give Sadie any credit, but I don't think she minded much.

The gopher got away.

The Molly Chronicles

I sprained my nose. Can't type.

M.