Not only do they talk, but their speech progresses much like human speech does. Here's an example of a puppy screaming for Elmo.
Of course, when a dog reaches two, they become uncommunicative and testy, because that's 14 in people years.
Sincerely,
Dr. Trout Bum
Last Updated ( Friday, 27 June 2008 22:10 )
Cold
Stories
Written by Gene Langston
Friday, 27 June 2008 08:44
DuRoss slid into the water quietly, sitting on the river’s bank and putting both feet in at the same time, trying to make as little ripple as possible. The cold water lapped around his ankles and began to work its way upward, through the feet of the hip waders.
Next time I’ll wear heavier socks, he thought, but then, a little cold had never stopped him before.
He had seen the ring left by the fish’s rise as he was driving down the dirt road beside the river, a ring with a hole in the center, as big as a tractor tire. If he caught the fish who made it, he’d tell that to his friends down at the Seed and Feed store where men gathered to drink free coffee before going about their day.
My life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning, and yet I'm happy. I can't figure it out. What am I doing right?
Charles M. Schulz (1922 - 2000)
As some of you may know, the current issue of Fly Rod & Reel magazine marks my one-hundredth column with John Gierach. Our very first collaboration occurred twenty years ago, in July of 1988, when I illustrated his article "East Big Fish" for what was then called Rod and Reel.
After Lee Wulff's tragic death in 1991, the editors at Rod & Reel asked John to write the magazine's closing column, and they asked me to illustrate it. Our first regular column together, "The Sporting Life," was published in March of 1992. This July marks our 100th column together, and I wanted to do a painting of John fishing his home water to commemorate that event.
Today’s image is that painting, and is titled “Close To Home”.
To mark the event, Lisa has created a 100 Painting Retrospective, and for the very first time, visitors to our website will be able to review all 100 paintings from John's columns in one place.
When she suggested that we build this retrospective, I found the idea both exciting and frightening. Did I really want people to look back over sixteen years of my artwork and be able to compare and contrast what I did then with what I'm doing now? In the end I decided that we all start somewhere, and if I wasn't getting better at what I do... then I should be doing something else. Besides, I like some of the early paintings as much as I do the recent work.
It was early September, 1974, and through a set of remarkably fortuitous circumstances I was scheduled to spend a weekend fishing in the Catskills with Al McClane. I was working for Field & Stream at the time, managing a book club, so while meeting Al was inevitable, catching the globetrotting fishing editor for a fishing weekend was nothing short of a miracle.
At the time I was a member of the Debruce Flyfishing Club, so our accommodations for the weekend were very “Catskill traditional,” if not luxurious. We planned to cover the Debruce water as well as the lower Beaverkill and possibly the Delaware. I knew the Catskill area pretty well, but Al knew it better than I, so there was every expectation that we’d run into plenty of fish.
He went to the big trout stream in the sky November 1967. He left behind a 39 year old bride and 6 children. Five daughters varying in age from 17 to 3 years old and one son 10 years old. This was not how Len Harris Sr. had pictured his life ending. He had always believed that he would live to be an old grandpa with many grandchildren. He could not even envision his bride being left alone again. Fate could not be that cruel twice in her lifetime.
After Lee Wulff's tragic death in 1991, the editors at Rod & Reel asked John to write the magazine's closing column, and they asked me to illustrate it. Our first regular column together, "The Sporting Life," was published in March of 1992. This July marks our 100th column together, and I wanted to do a painting of John fishing his home water to commemorate that event.