Okay, Newfies are water dogs, however most dogs get past eight months old before they become interested in swimming... before this they tend to be curious and may venture out if their ‘family’ head for the water. Karma was a great swimmer and would swim at every opportunity AFTER he was ~ eight months old.
Last week Kin & I joined, Scott & his son, Ryan at Lille Stokkavann. Kin ventured into the water, but kept his paws on the ground. Kin watched as they threw a bath toy boat into the water, unfortunately they were not agreed on who was taking responsibility for what and boat and both ends of the string it was tied to, arched into the air... Fortunately it was an onshore breeze, and eventually the boat drifted ashore... some bushwacking latter and boat was recovered. Kin watched keenly as the boat was thrown into the water once more... and off he went.
Three times the little chap swam out and ‘gallantly’ ‘rescued’ the toy (by this time Ryan and Scott had agreed on who was doing what).
This game was interrupted by what can only be termed, an angry swan, suffering from Lake rage... over he came puffed up and hissing... Kin was curious... I did briefly wonder if this was the same Swan that had gone for Karma, right up until the point that Karma had turned to face it, stood up to full height and pulled his lips back... you can imagine the effect of the swan as his horizon takes on the appearance of a knife murder’s, over populated knife draw; on that occasion the swan’s miniscule brain registered that this was not a course that he’d do well to pursue and he retreated. Sadly, Kin’s jaw and size aren’t yet this impressive, neither was his attitude... “I wonder if this white thing wants to play with me?” I don’t like Swans, as they tend to be angry, and way more opinionated then duvet bed stuffing should really be. Over came Mr Swan and then he tried to peck Kin’s curious nose... he was only saved from a quick kick in the beak, by Scott, demonstrating how to deal with a swan. He puffed himself up raised his arms above his head and looked somewhat comical... the swan didn’t pay any heed, so he went all out and opened his jacket to increase his projected area... I was trying to growl at mr Swan, but was laughing too much at Scott’s sterling effort. Mr Swan obviously decided that he’d made whatever point he had to make and off he went. And so ended Kin’s first waterborne adventure.
(Tried writing this in word and publishing it from there... not a great success... had to import all the pictures in a second time manually... still get to use a better font...)
Kin is trying to figure out how to overcome the ghastly gates that get in his way...
This gate is over hip height to me!
Weighed him two days ago and he came in at 30 kgs, when he's dry... and as it appears we have entered the Monsoon season in Stavanger, it's is getting to be quite rare.
On last Sunday it looked like we'd get a short spell of good weather - probably not good enough for 'hanging' flying (paragliding), but possibly good enough for a sledge run down. May, Kristian, & I headed for Dalsnuten, this is not one of our normal take offs and if we have an intentions of hanging here we have to get permission from Sola airport's control tower.
We did get some strange looks as most folk go for a Sunday stroll with at the most a Thermos flask, our glider sacks do seem excessive for such a trip. (Whilst we were doing this Kin was in the back garden).
We checked out the take off options. Checked the flying routes to get to the landing, and then we began the cruel art of para-venting ('venting' is Norwegian for 'waiting'). This is one of the least liked parts of paragliding.We have a narrow band of windspeed that we can realistically fly in (~ 0 m/s {depending onn take off location, but more normal 1 m/s} to ~ 5(ish) m/s). Normally you sit on a hill side for several hours gripping on to rocks and shouting above the roaring wind, blinded by the snow/rain, and you get used to the weather conditions, and as you get used to them, obviously the windspeed drops... which can lead to interesting take offs like this:
(this is the NW take off at Ulriken, below on the left is the Viking capital of Norway, Bergen... the two pilots steadying me are an instructor, and a PP5 (most experienced pilot grade in Norway)... immediately after take off, and 30 m over take off...
On Sunday, we couldn't convince ourselves that the wind was anywhere near our realistic limits, and despite watching crows and sea gulls that were soaring and showing the areas of the best lift, when the rocks started rolling up hill, we called it a day and had our 'excitement' with our choice of descent route:
Kin and I have now finished the puppy course. Last session was yesterday, out in the monsoon, in a forest doing tracking, which was cool. Kin was great with following a person trail, finding treats, and finding a person, but he bulked at the deer paw (and I can't say that I'm particularly 'upset' with this state of affairs).
Not having my own kids, I have to 'borrow' kids. Here's Eira, Isak, & Kin keeping each other entertained.
As you can see this can be quite tiring.
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