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Don Bain

Episode 11: Big Data Analytics He Calls Dimwits

Hi Buckeroos, Pancho here on day 11 of ranch doggin'. I thought it was time to slow down from all the adventurin', take in the beauty of country, smell the roses and so on. So as I was just reflectin' this morning, sitting by a cow pie, I came across the most beautiful green and purple bug. I mean that thing was irresdecent and looked like a piece of NY hipster jewelry.

So I ate it.

In the off season, when I'm not ranch doggin', I watch cooking and wine shows befitting my sophicated (Sophi is a friend of mine) breeding. Any way, the green purple bug had a crisp finish, not unlike early season Junebug, earthy tones and hints of fermented alfalfa.

You must surely be aware that I carry a highly calibrated gas chromatograph in my nose, hooked up to a big data analytics system. The ranch foreman has named the system Dimwits. Anyway I have deployed said high powered systems to analyze the rug at the ranch house. And fellers, let me tell ya - that ole rug has seen much more serious action than flavored cardboard they try to pass off as dog food and green purple bug.

I was on the ranch dog union mandated break this morning, laying on the rug, and breakfast and the green purple bug decided it was time to make a second appearance on said rug. So on the very day I was planning to spend reflectin', all my reflectin' has been exciled to the outside. All I can say is, there is a lot of injustice on this ranch. You'll be hearing from me again.

Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 10: Where are Maverick and Goose when you need 'em?

Listen in on the radio transmissions between ranch dog Pancho, callsign BadDog, and the foreman of the outfit, callsign RanchBoss, as Pancho does a combat pug patrol on the back pasture. Here's the key to radio language you need to know to follow along: Tallyho = I see it; Fox 1 = means weapon fired, in this case pug stinkeye laser glare; Fox 2 = means weapon fired, devasting pug yapping sonic blaster; Winchester = out of ammo; Mike = meter (just over a yard); Buster = afterburners lit; Romeo Tango Bravo = RTB = Return to Base; Feet Wet = flying over water.

BadDog: RanchBoss, BadDog with you straight and level south pasture.
RanchBoss: Roger, BadDog, be advised bovine bogey at bearing 050 and 30 Mike. Do not engage.
BadDog: Tallyho! She's a big 'un. I am turning into her.
RanchBoss: BadDog, DO NOT ENGAGE. BadDog, how do you read?
BadDog: BadDog going Buster, 10 Mike and closing, weapons armed.
RanchBoss: Break Left, Break Left. DO NOT ENGAGE. KNOCK IT OFF. ROMEO TANGO BRAVO. BadDog, do you copy?
BadDog: Fox1, RanchBoss. Complete furrball. Fox1. Gasp. Fox2. Fox2.
RanchBoss: BadDog, get outta there. I can't cover you.
BadDog: Fox1, Fox2, garbled, Fox1, Fox2. Helpppppp. Where are Maverick and Goose when I need 'em?
RanchBoss: Break right. Break right.
BadDog (screaming): BadDog is Winchester. Boy is she mad. I'm pulling 8 g for a 180 degree turn. I'll bring her right across your nose for a clean shot.
RanchBoss: Do not bring that angry cow to RanchBoss. Break left. Repeat: do not bring angry cow to RanchBoss.
BadDog (still screaming): Boy is she hot. She's all yours. Better call search and rescue. BadDog needs a Medevac. BadDog going Feet Wet at South stock tank. BadDog out!

Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 9: You Might Prefer Ignorant Cat Videos on the Internet Instead

Hi friends, your ranch dog buddy Pancho here. Today's report will be a little indelicate. So all you out there with sensibilities --- whoa, hold up right here a moment. If you are sensible and delicate, you really should rethink whether you follow the ranch foreman on FB anyway. He is going to be hard on your delicates and sensibilities. Believe me, I speak from experience. Anyway, you should just move along and go look at ignorant cat videos on the internet. Never have understood that fascination with that trash, but hey. Let's get back to my ranch report.

This here picture is cow pie. Yes cow pie. Not cow pi. You can tell the difference because cow pi is round and the circumference is 3.14 times the diameter. See! That money spent on puppy training class was worth it. Now I admit to boycotting the worthless lessons on obedience, preferring instead to share treats with that cute little poodle in the back of the class. She was just so cute nobody would ever tell her what to do and my free spirit within just has no time for commands from others.

If you inspect this here cow pie you will see it has pug paw print in it. This is a sign of just how serious I take my new job. I mean most of your city dogs would drive around cow pie. Not Ole Pancho when he's on serious ranch business. I drive right on through.

Yessir, I am fittin' into this ranch dog job just fine. Funny thing is, the better I get at this job, the less welcome I receive at the ranch house. Just no explaining those fickle peeps.Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 8: They Call me Stupido

Hi friends. Pancho here. RDIT. That's ranch dog in training for all you civilians following along at home.

This picture is from what we call a navigational waypoint. My ranch foreman is a pilot and he likes to say stuff like that. I know it has to do with navigation because he says, "This is where things went South." You see, I was on routine pasture patrol and I roll up on this slovenly old cow. At that point (get it? waypoint), I stop and look back at the foreman in order to get a crystal clear read on his mind.

Long story short, that cow needed a good dressing down for showing up in my pasture with less than squared away appearance, bad attitude and complete disrespect for ranch dog authority. I mean it is one thing for a cow to trash the dog, but you don't dis' the badge. I coulda sworn the boss was signalling - yeah, write her up on full report.

So his side of the story is different and I had to live with Mr. Grumpy all the way back to the ranch house. I just hope he forgets by the time we normally pass out bacon at breakfast, yessir. Should be OK because he called me a new term of endearment - Mr. Stupido. Nice ring to it and with a Mr. thrown in for respect.
Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 7: Pass the Bean Dip

Hi folks, Pancho here. If you open the wide view on this picture, you can see what I face everyday as temporary ranch dog. I start up a friendly play date with the baby beast and here comes a predator drone they call momma cow to bust up the fun. She wheels into a turn and that giant flyswatter of a tail slaps baby in the face. Baby cries. Momma blames Pancho.

I am no stranger to injustice, even when I was a city dog. Let's talk gas. I'm talkin' flatulence. Women don't have it but if there is a dog around, dogs have more than our share. I mean get a room full of society women together and its all "My your cute little doggy is gassy today I hope he will be alright And could you please pass some more of that delicious bean dip?"

Injustice to ole Pancho is spread pretty evenly across species and genders. Even the foreman stoops to it, telling that feller they call preacher that the beer cans were mine. Don't get me wrong, that stuff is good! If I had opposable thumbs I'd crack one open here at breakfast and call in a sick day to ranch dog headquarters.

Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 6: Coyotes Look Better at Dawn

Hi Friends. Pancho here, just back from a maneuver we call dawn patrol in the ranch dog business. That picture right there is a native American coyote. I'm kinda surprised to see one this early since the whole bunch was out singing all night and had obviously been drinkin'.

There's another thing about the picture I'd like to bring to your attention. Seems Ms. Coyote can walk around in the cow herd and everybody is calm as can be - just another Prozac moment. But drop a good-looking 20# pug in the herd and everyone goes all DefCon 4 berserk.

So I'd like to add another cow character flaw to the already long list (ill temper, slow of wit, lack of sense of humor ... I could go on) - distempergration. You know, distempergration - when they treat you badly just because of your curly tail or your suave smushed nose. I mean this is 2016 and this sort of thing is not supposed to happened. AND, I know I had a shot to prevent distempergration. That durn thing hurt and I think the foreman ought to ask for his money back since it clearly doesn't work.

One more thing. Did you see how Ms. Coyote looked at me over her shoulder as she was leaving? She even licked her lips in a oddly disturbing but inviting sorta way. I think she is sweet on me.

Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 5: Pond Scum the Magical Elixir

Hey friends, Pancho ranch dog wanna be here. I am gettin' the hang of this stuff, learning to talk like these ranch people, and so on. I just discovered a magic elixir they call pond scum. You know how you can be all stove-up after a rough day of ranch doggin'? Well, just coat yourself up with this stuff and it works wonders.

I have also found that if you combine it with a hint of cow pie and get spritzed liberally with cow slobber during maneuvers, well let's just say it adds a whole 'nother dimension of irresistible to ole Pancho. Y'all better lock up your lady dogs.

Can't say the same about these clowns in the ranch house. They are definitely practicing double standards. I know they bring supplements like St. Jims Warts into the house. They practice Western medicine right? Can't get much more Western than Texas pond scum. Yet they don't want it and something called my aura in the house, or at least on the couch. This ranch stuff has complicated rules.

I'll check in tomorrow.

Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 4: Pancho's Superpowers

Hi pardners, Pancho the cadet ranch dog here. You may recall a couple of episodes ago that Dang O Bull and I got in each other's grill, had words, and in a stunning lapse of character Dang O saw fit to bring in the boss on our little altercation.

Well, you'll be glad to know Dang O and I have it worked out. He can do whatever he wants on his side of the fence and I am free to trash talk all I want on my side of the fence. The foreman stopped by our little peace parlay and said, "Durn it Pancho, if you make me fix fence I swear blah, blah, blah..."

Let me stop this story right here and say that if I had superpowers like that, I would not waste them on making him fix stupid ole fence. No sir, I would make Mr. Tightwad reach in his wallet and upgrade that flavored cardboard he calls dog food into something more fitting to a highly tuned canine instrument.

Back to Dang O, after spending some serious time with him I can honestly say there is a good reason they have anti-bully campaigns in schools all across this country. Never have I met such a simple-minded, foul-tempered creature. Well, there was that one idiot beagle with the badge complex that worked for TSA, but that's a story for another day.
Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 3: Noble Retreat

Hi Buckeroos (that's ranch dog lingo if your city dogs are trying to follow along). Pancho here on day 3 of ranch dog tryouts. Picture is of me performing a protocol I call Noble Retreat. Your less courageous breeds - not naming any names here but you Bichon Frises know I talkin' to you - call it Run-For-Your-Life.

Ever spend time with momma cows? Those ladies have problems. I mean they are full of anxieties. Being a sensitive soul, I try to spend time with them, you know, bring a little play into their day. When I do, the problems just come spilling out. I mean they are an upset mess and they have a lot to share.

I try to help 'em. When they get worked up I bring them to the foreman of this outfit (who owns this internet account) using a little trademark move I call Every-Dog-For-Himself. But Dr. Phil he is not. If his head is turned when I bring him one of these bovine buzzsaws, well let's just say he can still dance.

I've only had a chance to help maybe a quarter of the herd, so stay tuned for more good news.

Your Pal, Pancho.

Don Bain

Episode 2: Start the Rodeo

Pancho, ranch dog pro tempore, here. My tryouts for the ranch dog position are going well. I learned how to start something called a rodeo.

This morning before breakfast I started the rodeo game with a creature the foreman (who owns this internet account) calls Dang O Bull. No sooner than I got Dang O started, ole Dang O turned the game on my foreman. Both of 'em were jumpin', chasin' and cussin'.

The foreman spent the half mile walk back to the house muttering something about no-account dog. Don't know what that means, but I am proud to have gotten the foreman some excitement and exercise, and all that ground tore up where Dang O played. Didn't know the foreman knew fence jumping.

Your Pal, Pancho.