Blinking in the Landscape of Smells

Quickly enough, Roski has figured out that the blinkie allows him greater leeway to roam. While Fips appears to prefers the security of being leashed, Rosco patiently lets me attach this new object to his collar knowing that it means he can impatiently chase off into the dark.

Rosco truly loves the farm. One can only the imagine the landscape of smells -- intriguing and delightful -- that it presents to him. While he always enjoyed our cool night walks, the farm has brought out in him a new briskness of spirit.

So tonight, while Fips rests in bed, he puts nose to door and, once the blinkie is fastened, hops out into the freezing night air. He starts down the path, looks back to make sure we are all alright with this and then races down toward the warren of corrals.

I catch up with him and for a ways we walk side by side, but when he wants to explore into a corral or down into some gulley I stay put and let him follow his nose whither wherever.

Eventually "wherever" takes him under the fence into a corral where there is a huge pile of manure. Bon bon time. The blinkie disappears behind the pile as Rosco chomps. After one or two gobbles, I call him back. Left to his own devices he'd gulp down the whole pile.

Okay Roski, komm now

. . . .

Rosssskii, komm!

. . . .

Rosco!

. . . .

The litte coot. He knows something is stopping me from reaching him, else I would have been on top of him by now; and taking advantage of my embarrassment he chomps away.

Rosssssscoh!!

. . . .

Damn little beast. There's no alternative. I get down on all fours, crawl under the fence, reach for his collar and drag him away from his pile of delights.

Well the going was good while the going was good. Rosco cheerfully comes along before chasing back up the road toward the cabin as I follow the blinkie home

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