Elk in Bend
There’s still a bit of snow on the ground (I wish there were more!) from last week’s storm . . . I’ve been working pretty hard, patiently trying to train my master. You know, the general obedience stuff . . . walking on a leash, staying, not rushing through doors, not acting too aggressively.
We’ve attended group sessions together and opted for individual instruction too. He’s coming along well, but still a work in progress. He’s pretty set in his ways . . . what’s that old adage?
The Daily Walk
We suited up, I wagged my tail perfunctorily, and we headed out for our daily stroll. I thought briefly of my departed older sibling, Rocco; like him before me, I’ve become a bit of an expert on golf communities in Bend.
. . . out through the trees alongside the 7th. hole at Broken Top. I sniffed some rocks, peed on a bush, and sort of lackadaisically sauntered after a couple of lame birds. All the while, keeping my master tight off my right flank.
As we trudged through the snow, my master talked (he has a way of doing that) . . . a diverse array of subjects–Bend real estate, problems with the “Cover Oregon” health insurance website, who shoots the better jumper- (Steph Curry or Damian Lillard?). I guess you could say a lot of esoteric stuff. I pretended to listen and marched on.
Tetherow
We crossed over to suddenly-booming Tetherow, marveling simultaneously at all the new construction
and the quality of the David Kidd-designed course. My master let me off my leash, and I sprinted ahead (not too far . . . I had to let him think he was still in control) in unfettered joy.
Bend Elk’s Club
A strange rather fecund scent in the air, and I pulled up rapidly. There, out in the trees, just off Tetherow’s twelfth hole (the par 5 carved out of the rocks) stood one of the largest beasts I’ve ever seen.
And behind her stood another, and another . . . perhaps 50 in all.
I’d never seen anything like it! I was nonplussed. I started to move forward . . . not sure if I was in friendly mode or protective. My master, quick as a cat (pardon the expression), slipped on my leash and gave me a tug as a battleship-sized cow and an aged bull with broken antlers (I didn’t even want to think about how he broke them)
likewise stepped forward, as if to meet my youthful canine challenge.
We turned towards home. My master droned on again about the “wonders of nature,” the beauty of the Bend lifestyle, and the fact that we’d just encountered an incredible herd of elk not 400 meters from our front door. I think I’m happy to live here too.
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