look alive sunshine 👀

-the video is from a time before sharing files across devices was trivial, which is why it looks so bizarre. my brother took the original video which i believe was a snapchat video which somehow got uploaded onto my parents’ computer, where my brother showed it to me. i immediately recognized the comedic gold and insisted on getting my own copy, so i re-filmed it on my own digital camera, which is why my brother is narrating what the video will be about before it starts. i then managed to get it onto my tumblr through a series of dark magic rituals. this is why it has an old mac toolbar AND a weird caption AND a vidlab watermark. simpler times indeed

-i was not involved in the act of exploring an abandoned mine shaft (extremely dangerous, do not do this) or touching the wild animal (extremely dangerous, do not do this) or hanging out with my brother (extremely dangerous, do not do this) and i do not endorse any of the behavior depicted here. leaving me notes and comments explaining that this was a bad idea is not a productive use of your time. i have known that everything my brother and his friends do is stupid and dangerous my entire life but at least in this instance we get to enjoy the fruits of their poor choices

-preston was fine. he was scratched up and got some rabies shots but this was not the first, last, or worst injury incurred by a young man who decided to follow my brother’s recommendations for what would be a good and cool idea to do. (his best friend was taken from our house to the ER six times over the course of middle and high school.) to my knowledge the ringtail was also fine despite his encounter with the cast of temu jackass.

They were a bit shy and didn’t say anything bit were obviously wondering at the race briefing about how someone like me in a big tilted back powerchair, neck brace and hand splints is able to sail. But then they see it. They see me and other people getting hoisted into the boats. They sail in our adapted boats so get to see how the steering and seating is different, and they can see how my seating looks different from other disabled people who don’t need the same support to stay sat upright.

* I’m drinking one right now!

* I drank one today

* I drank one within the last few days

* I drank one this week

* I drank one within the last few weeks

* I drank one this month

* I drank one within the last few months

* I drank one this year

* it’s been a year or longer since I’ve had an alcoholic beverage

* I’ve never had an alcoholic beverage

* it’s complicated

* see results

he looks SO shocked and taken aback and goes “what did you just say? how do you know my name?” so i sit there for a moment trying to figure out what the fuck he is talking about, and then go, “…. bitch?” and he looks so relieved and tells me his name is mitch.

He's a Mdium-sized Rez Dog which is to say he's mostly sighthound and pointer but he's a perfectly classically shaped hunting dog. He looks like he modeled the dogs on grecian pottery or hopped out of one of those 1700's paintings of stags at bay that would hang in the smoking rooms of the guys that funded the pillaging of the Americas but I digress. Sometimes I feel bad that I can't indulge him in what he was bred to do, because he loves scent-tracking and flushing geese and he damn near got me arrested in Grand Teton National park after he chewed through his leash and went haring off after a pronghorn antelope for half a mile at roughly mach fuck before the damn thing finally crossed a river and I was able to grab Charlie because he doesn't like getting his feetsies wet.

But today, we were on a walk in the local open space on a moderately muddy trail with fresh horse tracks in it. As in, we parked next to the horse trailer. The horse itself is actually perfecty visible about half a mile ahead of us.

But Charlie saw the tracks and went "I'm gonna scent-track this shit. I'm gonna hunt this motherfucking ungulate down by smell alone. I am truly the Nimrod of Dogs."

Full Instinct takeover happens. Head down, nose to the ground, pulling on his martingale hard enough that I could have hooked him up to a sled, stopping and dramatically pointing at road apples and bits of nibbled grass until I acknowledge that he has Identified An Article. He is having a GREAT time doing this, so I'm just there, looking at the horse that we are slowly catching up to and going. "Yeah! You got it! Good Job!"

But I'm also walking Herschel, who is a Corgi and he loves Activities, so he sees his big brother doing this and goes "OH BOY! AN ACTIVITY!!" and is trying his darndest to copy what Charlie's doing. Except he doesn't have a damn clue what is happening so he's slapping his livestock-bullying instincts on these horse tracks as hard as he can and just. Barking at horse shit to alert me to it's existence. Stalk-posing at the gras Charlie is pointing at, in case it jumps up and tries to run off. I think he thought perhaps they were herding an Invisible Cow and BY GOD it wasn't gonna run lose on his watch. Wherever it was.

Eventually, we get to about 100 feet behind the horse, which is an older Pinto out for a nice stroll and some fresh air and at this distance, Charlie decides that we're probably close enough for my dumb, relatively sensorily deprived human ass to see the horse, but just to make sure, he POINTS.

He's so fucking good at pointing. Perfectly still. Perfectly straight back and tail. Head up and ears forward. Front paw up and at the ready. Little diamond shape of back hackles up in excitement. Determined, unblinking lazer-eyed stare at the target. He looks like a very carnivorous hood ornament, the distilled essence of Hunting Dog, in a perfect scuptural pose. It's downright artistic. Inspiring even

Herschel is DELIGHTED, because he might not understand scent-tracking but he DID learn how to Point from Charlie and copies his pose exactly.

It has almost exactly the opposite emotional effect.

A Pointing Corgi is the most canine clownshoes nonsense possible. Herschel's pose is flawless of course, he learned from the Master, but the perfectly straight back looks funny as hell with a perfectly straight nub of a tail. His head is up and his gaze is locked but instead of predatory intent his face is EXTREMELY excited about this new Giant Friend and thier giant ankles he can barely wait to launch himself at and his face is about 80% Big Dumb Corgi Grin. Instead of Charlie's minute, even delicate hackles, Herschel has a full-body length doggy mowhawk, which is a good three inches long at the peaks over his shoulders and hips, ruining the sleek image and making him look like he just came out of the dryer and is still full of static electricity.

And, of course.

The Paw.

The Front Paw is up and at the ready- he and Charlie are both right-pawed apparently- and on his little stubby Corgi legs it looks like a toddler trying to use a smartphone. He thinks he's doing exactly what the Big Dogs do, but he only has these tiny feets.