How High's the Water, Mama?

Two feet high and risin'...


The North Canadian is over flood stage, the Cimarron is deep and wide, Turkey Creek is at her banks, and the combines are stuck in the fields. We are all mighty grateful that Farmer K. John got his wheat cut between storms. The field sure is soggy though.


We go out to lunch and everything is so wet that we end up more full of water than grain! Prairie Dogs don't drink, you know, don't have to. We're the original Tee-Totalers. There's plenty of water in our forage to keep us happy when every thing's normal but, I'll tell ya, right now, I feel like I squish when I walk!


Sometimes I think all those prayers for rain that went up in the last 2 years got stored up somehow and are just now getting answered all at once! This is one P. Dog that is not complaining, however, no sir. You don't dig down too far before you hit dry dirt. We got a lot of catchin' up to do. I just hope this flood of rain doesn't just run off and float the farm away!

Who Was That Bearded Man In Sandals With All The Animals Following Two-by-Two?

It has been a little wet of late here in Hennessey. Mama P Dog has the pups out of the burrow and in Farmer K. John's field to sample the wheat. Mighty tasty. Just a little on the thin side though--that late freeze really hurt. Then there were the army worms--yum. Like plump spaghetti... Farmer K. John wasn't too happy with the worms, but the pups thought they were mighty fine.

Had a real scare this morning. There we were, up early and out munching on wheat, staying just a little later in the day than we should. It's still pretty wet, you know, after all those May rains, so we were a little longer in the fields, not really noticing that the wind we had yesterday had dried things out considerable. Got the pups all scattered out, chowing down pretty good, Mama P Dog watching for hawks and such--owls turned in already--P. Dog Heaven. Life was good.

I felt it in the ground first, a vibration, you know? A tremble that you feel in the palms of the paws, then that odd sound. I never can figure why the two-legged folks go in for noise. I gotta admit, though, it's a good thing for us. I whistled to Mama Dog to get those young 'uns back to the burrow, like scat!

Trucks comin'. Combines startin' up. Birds flying. P. Dogs scattering to the four corners. You ever try to round up six PD pups that haven't seen the world and are chewin' their way through wheat like a two-legged critter in his first candy store? Darned if they didn't run toward those slice and dice death traps just to see what all the commotion was about.

We got 'em underground, finally. Out of the field and back to PD Town and into the burrow safe and sound and sorely irritated. It was like snatching Christmas out of their paws, but at least they were alive to grumble.

The fields are quiet right now. Just a little too much moisture comin' up from the ground for Farmer K to run into the night. Perfect time for Mom and the pups to have a little supper while I watch for early owls.

It just doesn't get any better than this.