Meaty here. I work. At a petting zoo. It used to be a landfill and my Mom runs it three days a week. Now, it’s a petting zoo. I am the star attraction! People who could whiz right by and flash their yearly permits, now stop, turn off the engine, and come in to see….ME.
Here I am looking serious in the office. I do have a few toys.
It is a challenge to get any decent rest on my new Coolero bed. People keep waking me up!
Mom’s boss LOVES me. Did you see my cool collar?
Mom! Stop taking my picture. I practice the Stink Eye when she does.
Ok. That’s enough work for today. I’m tired! love, Meaty.
Hi, Folks, Meatball here. I turned five months old this week! I’m already a working dog. Just in case some of you think we’re spoofin’ about this bear tracking stuff……. Here I am on the job Saturday. I found it! Me! Baby Meatball! It’s Bear poop, called Bear Scat. Cooper Jackson, eat your heart out.
Here is my sweet little self, closing in on the prey. When I was younger, and whiter, Mom had to watch because big bald eagles circled me on the trail………as if I were prey!
Hate to say it, but the fact that the ground is still wet around and beneath the pile means this is FRESH.
Yup, that’s the real thing. BEAR! After we found this we ran for the shed, called it in to Game and Fish, locked the door. Mom wouldn’t go to the porta potty all day. Here’s a photo of the hind foot print I found just inches from the pile.
Here is a photo for you to see of a bear that was caught where we were in these photos, last year, before I was even born!
That’s MY Mom’s finger touching her foot on the left!
Poor Bear. She has a bit of blood on her head because the men pierced her ears, and not with a needle. A leather punch!
Well, it’s back to trackin’ on Tuesday. ME! The Mighty Meatball!
Eeeuw! Does a Bear SCAT in the woods?
Yee Haw! I sure hope all you girls have cowboys as prepared as mine! Here in the wild west of Wyoming, at the dump to be precise, there has been what passes for a lot of excitement.
Spotting a mangy coyote on my way to the porta potty (not in photo…. please,) I became mildly alarmed. When two good friends stopped by to dump some trash and chat, I asked offhandedly, “Would either of you like to shoot a coyote for me?” The response was as if I had asked a couple of eight year olds, “Would you like some Candy and Chocolate?”