For Tony, the only one I want to be stuck with in Russian bear cave.

The Bitches are the best conversation starters.  People of all ages want to meet them, pet them, and learn about them.  Joey has developed the unfortunate habit of barking at nice people, e.g. baby at Forest Park and cute guy at train station who wanted to scratch her ears.  But then I remember her “To Catch a Predator” abilities and I figure there must have been evil lurking in the heart of that Ivory Soap-looking baby…

We were checking out some killer inclines on a new to us trail yesterday.  Killer inclines is relative, I know.  Old Half Pint here is used to the flat expanse of the Great Plains, so the hills here are gonna feel like mountain climbing for a while.  There is payoff in the views from the top, though.  (Metaphors abound.  Who has an inspirational quote?)

As the girls were having their post-run water break, a woman walked over to us and started gushing about the girls. 

“Are zeeez Ger-man Shorthaired Pointers?” she asked excitedly in a thick, not quite distinguishable accent from some eastern part of Europe.

She was older, in her late 60s, to my best guess.  If she wasn’t a grandma, she would be a good one, I thought, as she doted over the girls.  Joey gave the all-clear by not barking, but she was not so into the attention and hopped in the van.  Alli, on the other hand, basked in it. 

Alli sat down, gave puppy dog eyes, laid down, and then went on her back, all as Grandma Svetlana petted her and went on and on about the “Ger-man Shorthaired Pointer my son adopted!”

Was her name Svetlana?  I don’t know.  I wanted it to be.  I wanted her to be from some small Ukrainian town where she dreamed of becoming a world-famous gymnast, but Khrushchev’s world had other ideas for girls taller than 5-5.

These are the things that run through my mind as I stood sweating after a run and a perfectly nice woman asked questions about the Bitches. 

Grandma Svetlana was very sad because her son moved out of state and “… took my bay-bee with!” 

“They are the sweeeee-test dogs!”

“No bark!”

“No groom and they look perfect!”

“I like Ger-man Shepherd, but TOO big!”

“Where do you get?”

I told her about Northern California GSP Rescue, since every other place I knew about was based super far away from Oregon.  She even had me put it in her phone so she wouldn’t forget.  Hopefully she will connect with them and maybe a senior GSP will find a new home here. 

We still haven’t seen any other GSPs here.  Goldens, GSDs, terriers, Dobermans, Rotties, Pitties, Chihuahuas, a Mastiff, Labs, a Akita, an Irish Wolfhound and on and on.  It’s been quite a parade.  With all the active people around here, I just assumed there would be GSPs and Vizslas all over.  Perhaps this is a chance for the Bitches to be GSP Ambassadors? 

 Don’t worry, Alli’s farts and Joey’s barks can still talk people out of it if it’s not the right fit.