Camouflaged in the Rockies

When I go up to the mountains on weekends, I am in camo. Especially when there is a little snow. I am the color of the sandy roads and rocks. I have to stay on a leash because a passing truck would never see me. This is probably where my ancestors lived as wild dogs. Sneaking up on strange critters.





Georgetown, Colorado. My owner mom says it’s like Northern Exposure, in a good way. Maybe Northern Exposure is like Georgetown. But not as cold.




The first time they left me alone to go skiing and riding, I ate a big section of the wood around the door. I wanted to chew my way out. Finally I gave up and cried myself to sleep. They just stuck me alone in a strange room. After that, they put duct tape around the door. Tasted kind of gummy and sticky.


They come home all happy and hungry. I still can’t believe the stuff I get to eat. At first it was a pig’s ear every Saturday, but hey, that gets old. It was pretty old when they gave it to me! Now the bearded one gets out the best human food and shares. He knows which brand of cheddar cheese I prefer. He drops little pieces of whatever they're eating. I think they ski in a supermarket.