Personal Errata (Split from original topic)
Moderators: GAHorn, Karl Towle, Bruce Fenstermacher
Personal Errata (Split from original topic)
Bruce, Simplicity Lawn Tractor? I always invisioned you as a Snapper lawn tractor guy, like Forest Gump.
Karl
'53 170B N3158B SN:25400
ASW-20BL
'53 170B N3158B SN:25400
ASW-20BL
-
Bruce Fenstermacher
- Posts: 10318
- Joined: Tue Apr 23, 2002 11:24 am
Yep Karl and it's a biggin. Equipped with a 17hp Kolher driving a hydrostatic tranny, 48" main mower deck and a 36" outrigger deck home built from what else but a Simplicity and powered by a 7 hp B & S. We are cutting a whopping 72" on the straight aways. Bet I'm keeping up to Gahorn's Ford 9N. 
Like to move up to a Snapper one of these days but then I'd put Gahorn to shame.
BTW I also have a Black Lab like Gahorn but I don't mention him cause his name is Humprey not a cool name like Roullette.
Like to move up to a Snapper one of these days but then I'd put Gahorn to shame.
BTW I also have a Black Lab like Gahorn but I don't mention him cause his name is Humprey not a cool name like Roullette.
CAUTION - My forum posts may be worth what you paid for them!
Bruce Fenstermacher, Past President, TIC170A
Email: brucefenster at gmail.com
Bruce Fenstermacher, Past President, TIC170A
Email: brucefenster at gmail.com
Roullette! is my third Black Lab. (She's one of the absolute best examples of the breed I've ever known, and I'm glad to share the same time-frame with her!)
My first black lab was a gift to my daughter when she was 8 yrs old, and she wanted to name him "Honey Bun"
I told her, "Sweetheart, we've got to name the dog something else! I'll be laughed out of the duck blind if I say, 'Fetch!-Honey Bun!' ...."We should name him something like 'Jack' or something."
"That's it, Daddy!", she replied. "We'll name him Black-Jack!" (Much to her Mom's (my ex's) chagrin, I'd taught Ashley to play "21" or "blackjack" at age 8, and Ashley understood that any new puppy was always a gamble.) I really loved that dog, because he was the last straw in a series of events that made the woman move out!! (GOOD dog!)
Anyway, the next black lab was named "Eight-Ball" or simply "Eight", (in tradition of naming the dogs after games of chance.) He is a loving dog who likes to lean up against you or lay his head in your lap except when he's working. (He considers it his top duty to kill armadillos), but now he's 13 and has lots of gray in his whiskers.
But the real showoff is Roullette! who is the daughter of our yellow lab female. Her maternal grandmother was the first chocolate lab in the history of the breed to win both U.S. Field Trials and Mexican Gun Dog awards. Roullette! understands about 20 household-chore type commands and has a real desire to please! (On cold rainy nights she's especially helpful in going to the outside kennel to bring the other dogs bowls in for me so I don't have to get wet.) But when it comes to "fetch" you'd better not get in her way (or let your dog try to beat her at bringing it home to Daddy!) She loves to make huge leaps into the air to get a frisbee and has some pretty good "fake-out" moves to keep another dog from getting it from her. Lots of speed and determination.
She's a happy, genial, tail wagger!
She's the first "house-dog" I've ever allowed to live indoors with me. I didn't expect my better half Jamie to allow an inside dog, but I came home really late from a flight one night when Roullette! was only about 12 weeks old and tried to slide into bed in the darkened room....only to find a warm lump on my pillow!! I knew I'd lost the cause when the next day I heard Jamie call her "Smoochy-Lips"!
I don't much really care for 'er tho'.
My first black lab was a gift to my daughter when she was 8 yrs old, and she wanted to name him "Honey Bun"
I told her, "Sweetheart, we've got to name the dog something else! I'll be laughed out of the duck blind if I say, 'Fetch!-Honey Bun!'
...."We should name him something like 'Jack' or something.""That's it, Daddy!", she replied. "We'll name him Black-Jack!" (Much to her Mom's (my ex's) chagrin, I'd taught Ashley to play "21" or "blackjack" at age 8, and Ashley understood that any new puppy was always a gamble.) I really loved that dog, because he was the last straw in a series of events that made the woman move out!! (GOOD dog!)
Anyway, the next black lab was named "Eight-Ball" or simply "Eight", (in tradition of naming the dogs after games of chance.) He is a loving dog who likes to lean up against you or lay his head in your lap except when he's working. (He considers it his top duty to kill armadillos), but now he's 13 and has lots of gray in his whiskers.
But the real showoff is Roullette! who is the daughter of our yellow lab female. Her maternal grandmother was the first chocolate lab in the history of the breed to win both U.S. Field Trials and Mexican Gun Dog awards. Roullette! understands about 20 household-chore type commands and has a real desire to please! (On cold rainy nights she's especially helpful in going to the outside kennel to bring the other dogs bowls in for me so I don't have to get wet.) But when it comes to "fetch" you'd better not get in her way (or let your dog try to beat her at bringing it home to Daddy!) She loves to make huge leaps into the air to get a frisbee and has some pretty good "fake-out" moves to keep another dog from getting it from her. Lots of speed and determination.
She's a happy, genial, tail wagger!
She's the first "house-dog" I've ever allowed to live indoors with me. I didn't expect my better half Jamie to allow an inside dog, but I came home really late from a flight one night when Roullette! was only about 12 weeks old and tried to slide into bed in the darkened room....only to find a warm lump on my pillow!! I knew I'd lost the cause when the next day I heard Jamie call her "Smoochy-Lips"!
I don't much really care for 'er tho'.
'53 B-model N146YS SN:25713
50th Anniversary of Flight Model. Winner-Best Original 170B, 100th Anniversary of Flight Convention.
An originality nut (mostly) for the right reasons.
50th Anniversary of Flight Model. Winner-Best Original 170B, 100th Anniversary of Flight Convention.
An originality nut (mostly) for the right reasons.
-
Bruce Fenstermacher
- Posts: 10318
- Joined: Tue Apr 23, 2002 11:24 am
Hey George glad you split this off
What you don't know is as I was reading you message our other Yellow Lab Dixie just made a desperate attempt to walk into the room to be with me. Dixie has been with us for about thirteen years and is older than that as she was about 2 when we got her from the pound.
She, because of a large tumor in her stomach, was given about 2 months to live over a year ago. But with the help of a very thoughtful vet and some drugs she has battled on and been very happy and continued to make Teresa and I happy.
Dixie was just one of those dogs that didn't really know any tricks but would listen and do what she was told. She rarely barked or left the property. She is, as many labs are, a tale wager. That tale never stops. She has gotten us up every morning for the last ten years with that tale banging against our houses hollow core doors.
Dixie wages her tale so hard that about a year ago just after being diagnosed with the tumor she finally whacked it against something and the last two inches died and needed to be amputated. The vet said she might not survive the amputation so we let it go. Gang green set in and you can imagine the smell. We joked that the tumor wouldn't get her and that she was dieing a slow death from one end to the other. The amputation did go well and for the third time of many to come Dixie made the vet look foolish as he predicted she wouldn't need another refill on her medicine.
In the last 3 days she has stopped eating and all but lost control off her hind legs. It is 7:30 pm here and we have her scheduled to be put down around 8:45pm. It is the right thing to do in this case and in the case of the other two dogs I've had put down yet the decisions to do it have been the toughest decisions I've ever made.
Dixie is now lying sleeping at my feet with Humphrey very peacefully occasionally smacking her tale against the carpeted floor. She must be dreaming of a juicy dog bone or a puddle of water of any size she can walk in.
Our pets give so much to us and ask for so little and way to many times treated very poorly by folks.
Thanks for allowing me to pass some tough time while I typed at you.
In lieu of my regular signature I'd just like to dedicate this post to the happy thoughts it may have brought of past and present pets you’ve had.
To Francy, Pudgy, Molly, Shadow, Dixie and Humphrey
Bruce F.
What you don't know is as I was reading you message our other Yellow Lab Dixie just made a desperate attempt to walk into the room to be with me. Dixie has been with us for about thirteen years and is older than that as she was about 2 when we got her from the pound.
She, because of a large tumor in her stomach, was given about 2 months to live over a year ago. But with the help of a very thoughtful vet and some drugs she has battled on and been very happy and continued to make Teresa and I happy.
Dixie was just one of those dogs that didn't really know any tricks but would listen and do what she was told. She rarely barked or left the property. She is, as many labs are, a tale wager. That tale never stops. She has gotten us up every morning for the last ten years with that tale banging against our houses hollow core doors.
Dixie wages her tale so hard that about a year ago just after being diagnosed with the tumor she finally whacked it against something and the last two inches died and needed to be amputated. The vet said she might not survive the amputation so we let it go. Gang green set in and you can imagine the smell. We joked that the tumor wouldn't get her and that she was dieing a slow death from one end to the other. The amputation did go well and for the third time of many to come Dixie made the vet look foolish as he predicted she wouldn't need another refill on her medicine.
In the last 3 days she has stopped eating and all but lost control off her hind legs. It is 7:30 pm here and we have her scheduled to be put down around 8:45pm. It is the right thing to do in this case and in the case of the other two dogs I've had put down yet the decisions to do it have been the toughest decisions I've ever made.
Dixie is now lying sleeping at my feet with Humphrey very peacefully occasionally smacking her tale against the carpeted floor. She must be dreaming of a juicy dog bone or a puddle of water of any size she can walk in.
Our pets give so much to us and ask for so little and way to many times treated very poorly by folks.
Thanks for allowing me to pass some tough time while I typed at you.
In lieu of my regular signature I'd just like to dedicate this post to the happy thoughts it may have brought of past and present pets you’ve had.
To Francy, Pudgy, Molly, Shadow, Dixie and Humphrey
Bruce F.
Last edited by Bruce Fenstermacher on Sat Oct 16, 2004 3:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
Bruce,
Sorry to hear you have to put Dixie down. We had to put my Dad's Shepard/Black Lab down a couple years ago. One of the toughest things I've been through. Doc was real hoot. Named for Doc Watson, one of my Dad's favorite guitar pickers. I still miss him as I'm sure you'll always miss Dixie.
Take care,
Sorry to hear you have to put Dixie down. We had to put my Dad's Shepard/Black Lab down a couple years ago. One of the toughest things I've been through. Doc was real hoot. Named for Doc Watson, one of my Dad's favorite guitar pickers. I still miss him as I'm sure you'll always miss Dixie.
Take care,
Doug
My first Black lab was named Pat she was the family dog when I was growing up (not srue I ever did) 
. Next Lab was from the pound named Jack lived for 13 years out side in Alaska all the time. Next dog the X and oldest daughter brought home from the pound named Jet. He has bitten me three times always when I deserved it, the wife and daughter both left me but the dog is still here and boy do we love to hunt ducks. He's a good dog. Best I ever had. He lives inside too. He sure stinks sometimes!
. Next Lab was from the pound named Jack lived for 13 years out side in Alaska all the time. Next dog the X and oldest daughter brought home from the pound named Jet. He has bitten me three times always when I deserved it, the wife and daughter both left me but the dog is still here and boy do we love to hunt ducks. He's a good dog. Best I ever had. He lives inside too. He sure stinks sometimes! Tim
-
zero.one.victor
- Posts: 2271
- Joined: Tue Apr 23, 2002 12:11 am
The tail-wagging reminds me of what happened to a friend of mine. It's a long story, but he & his wife, a friend's 2 little girls, and a total of three dogs were all on a small skiff to go ashore from boat-camping in the San Juans. Well, everybody needed to "use the facilities" (the reason for going ashore), and before everyone was aboard & settled one of the dogs just couldn't wait any longer & did it's business in the bottom of the boat. That ain't bad enough, one of the other dogs proceeded to get the poop all over it's tail while busily a-wagging it. Evidently, it was in a real good mood, so you can imagine how that turned out.
My buddy's still pretty disgusted about the whole thing, but even he's starting to laugh about it. Finally.
Eric
My buddy's still pretty disgusted about the whole thing, but even he's starting to laugh about it. Finally.
Eric
Bruce, please accept my condolences regarding Dixie. It might be a tough time to read this, but it's one of my favorite passages about dogs.
Where to Bury a Dog
We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in the sunshine and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season, the cherry strews petals on the green lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree or an apple or any flowering shrub of the garden is an excellent place to bury a good dog.
Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer or gnawed at a flavorous bone or lifted his head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter. For if the dog be well-remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where the dog sleeps. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pastureland, where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog and all one to you, and nothing is gained and nothing is lost - if memory lives.
But there is one best place to bury a dog. If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call - come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they shall not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he belongs there. People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing. The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.
-Ben Hur Campman
Where to Bury a Dog
We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in the sunshine and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season, the cherry strews petals on the green lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree or an apple or any flowering shrub of the garden is an excellent place to bury a good dog.
Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer or gnawed at a flavorous bone or lifted his head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter. For if the dog be well-remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where the dog sleeps. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pastureland, where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog and all one to you, and nothing is gained and nothing is lost - if memory lives.
But there is one best place to bury a dog. If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call - come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they shall not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he belongs there. People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing. The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.
-Ben Hur Campman
'53 B-model N146YS SN:25713
50th Anniversary of Flight Model. Winner-Best Original 170B, 100th Anniversary of Flight Convention.
An originality nut (mostly) for the right reasons.
50th Anniversary of Flight Model. Winner-Best Original 170B, 100th Anniversary of Flight Convention.
An originality nut (mostly) for the right reasons.
-
Kyle Wolfe
- Posts: 707
- Joined: Mon Mar 17, 2003 12:30 am
Goota love them dogs! I've had labs and my wife likes the pointers. Guess we've got the best of both worlds covered.
Just last week during our pheasant season opener I walked past the grave of my first dog - which happened to be my wedding present from my wife Becky. Funny how little things like that can bring a tear to my eye.
That was the dog who was "Never going to be in my house". And like gahorn that little bugger was sleeping on a pad at the foot of our bed after just a few days. Becky just couldn't let that dog "suffer" in the garage. Ever since then, all of our dogs sleep on pads in our bedroom.
Bruce, know what you're going through. I had a friend who once said that they never regretted putting a dog down a day too early, but did regret doing it a day too late and letting the dog suffer.
Gun Dog magazine has run this a couple of times and I think it's fitting at times like these, Bruce.
Tribute To A Dog
From a speech given by former Senator George Graham Vest
of Missouri. Delivered in 1870 when he was acting as a lawyer
in a suit against a man who had killed the dog of his client.
He won the case.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world is his dog.
A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in proverty,in health and
sickness.
He will sleep on the cold ground when the wintry winds blow and the snow
drives fiercely,if only he may be near his master's side.
He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer,he will lick the wounds that come in encounters with the world.
He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a Prince. When all other friends desert, he remains.
And when death takes the Master in it's embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the Noble dog be found,his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness,faithful and true even to death...........
Just last week during our pheasant season opener I walked past the grave of my first dog - which happened to be my wedding present from my wife Becky. Funny how little things like that can bring a tear to my eye.
That was the dog who was "Never going to be in my house". And like gahorn that little bugger was sleeping on a pad at the foot of our bed after just a few days. Becky just couldn't let that dog "suffer" in the garage. Ever since then, all of our dogs sleep on pads in our bedroom.
Bruce, know what you're going through. I had a friend who once said that they never regretted putting a dog down a day too early, but did regret doing it a day too late and letting the dog suffer.
Gun Dog magazine has run this a couple of times and I think it's fitting at times like these, Bruce.
Tribute To A Dog
From a speech given by former Senator George Graham Vest
of Missouri. Delivered in 1870 when he was acting as a lawyer
in a suit against a man who had killed the dog of his client.
He won the case.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world is his dog.
A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in proverty,in health and
sickness.
He will sleep on the cold ground when the wintry winds blow and the snow
drives fiercely,if only he may be near his master's side.
He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer,he will lick the wounds that come in encounters with the world.
He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a Prince. When all other friends desert, he remains.
And when death takes the Master in it's embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the Noble dog be found,his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness,faithful and true even to death...........
Kyle
54 B N1932C
57 BMW Isetta
Best original 170B - Dearborn, MI 2005
54 B N1932C
57 BMW Isetta
Best original 170B - Dearborn, MI 2005
-
Bruce Fenstermacher
- Posts: 10318
- Joined: Tue Apr 23, 2002 11:24 am
Thanks all for the kind words. It is much appreciated. We had a traveling vet come to the house to put Dixie down in her favorate spot. It was as nice as these things can go. No trauma of going to the vets office then waiting. Dixie left us like the true lady she was with out a wimper or a flinch. It costs more but I'd highly reccommend the home visit by the vet for these things.
It's great to have so many friends here at the forum. We may not see eye to eye on MoGas, MMO, Axles, Vgs, Major Alterations, Minor Alterations, Rag Wing vers A vers B model, etc, but we all love our animals.
It's great to have so many friends here at the forum. We may not see eye to eye on MoGas, MMO, Axles, Vgs, Major Alterations, Minor Alterations, Rag Wing vers A vers B model, etc, but we all love our animals.
CAUTION - My forum posts may be worth what you paid for them!
Bruce Fenstermacher, Past President, TIC170A
Email: brucefenster at gmail.com
Bruce Fenstermacher, Past President, TIC170A
Email: brucefenster at gmail.com
PLANES DOGS AN BUDS
IN A NUTSHELL: BLACK LABS OWN THE WORLD!
There are many wonderful breeds of man's best friend but the LAB is top drawer for being a most versatile teacher, protector, worker and friend.
I wish I could do the "little picture thing" on my posts. I would put one of the "late" mayor of Toledo Bend Fly-In Villa. His name was Billy-Bob. He had a stately demeanor and a knowledge of human behavior beyond animal ken. He lived 14 years here at our place. Many of the 170 folks that came here knew him and admired his diplomatic control of his "territory". He was a large frame, a big block head with yellow eyes. At his prime he weighed around 100#. Huge paws and long claws that would make a small bear some good equipment, bute him a less than welcome "inside" dog. Some folks asked "Do you ever take him in your plane"? I would pick up one of those paws and ask "What kind of seat-covers could hold up under those claws"? He loved riding in the boat or pickup but never got to fly.
While I was managing the Many Hart Airport, he took it upon himself to be the official "Greeter" to arriving airplanes and pilots. His large size and huge bark did startle some pilots but he was sure that they were coming in just to visit him! There were some that wouldn't get out of a plane till I would assure them that he was not in an attack mode. I told them that the "Happy bark" was much different than the "watch out" bark!
He did find one adversary that almost got the best of him. The military at Fort Polk were using Black hawks to do training sessions in this area. They had requested use of Many/Hart for low level manuvers one afternoon and I agreed. Billy Bob hadn't been consulted so when these huge birds began hover-taxiing up the runways he took off down the ramp to challenge them. I, laughingly radioed the pilot to prepare himself for the attack of the airport security team, the big black dog racing down the runway toward him! He sorta rolled the Blackhawk up on it's side and the rotor wash rolled old Billy over onto the grass at the side of the runway. He got back up and started back on the attack but kept a little more distance between him and the chopper as he leaped up and down, barking his head off at the intruder. They landed out of the fringe of the grass runway and came up to the flight ops building and we had a good belly laugh at his actions. He learned quickly who belonged at the airport and who didn't. After meeting the pilots of the choppers on that day, he always ran out to greet them in his "Happy" bark any time the came back.
He went to his reward last spring while contesting his much younger peers for the affections of a local gyp in heat. His heart was willing but his body gave out on him and he died in his sleep.
So long old friend!
There are many wonderful breeds of man's best friend but the LAB is top drawer for being a most versatile teacher, protector, worker and friend.
I wish I could do the "little picture thing" on my posts. I would put one of the "late" mayor of Toledo Bend Fly-In Villa. His name was Billy-Bob. He had a stately demeanor and a knowledge of human behavior beyond animal ken. He lived 14 years here at our place. Many of the 170 folks that came here knew him and admired his diplomatic control of his "territory". He was a large frame, a big block head with yellow eyes. At his prime he weighed around 100#. Huge paws and long claws that would make a small bear some good equipment, bute him a less than welcome "inside" dog. Some folks asked "Do you ever take him in your plane"? I would pick up one of those paws and ask "What kind of seat-covers could hold up under those claws"? He loved riding in the boat or pickup but never got to fly.
While I was managing the Many Hart Airport, he took it upon himself to be the official "Greeter" to arriving airplanes and pilots. His large size and huge bark did startle some pilots but he was sure that they were coming in just to visit him! There were some that wouldn't get out of a plane till I would assure them that he was not in an attack mode. I told them that the "Happy bark" was much different than the "watch out" bark!
He did find one adversary that almost got the best of him. The military at Fort Polk were using Black hawks to do training sessions in this area. They had requested use of Many/Hart for low level manuvers one afternoon and I agreed. Billy Bob hadn't been consulted so when these huge birds began hover-taxiing up the runways he took off down the ramp to challenge them. I, laughingly radioed the pilot to prepare himself for the attack of the airport security team, the big black dog racing down the runway toward him! He sorta rolled the Blackhawk up on it's side and the rotor wash rolled old Billy over onto the grass at the side of the runway. He got back up and started back on the attack but kept a little more distance between him and the chopper as he leaped up and down, barking his head off at the intruder. They landed out of the fringe of the grass runway and came up to the flight ops building and we had a good belly laugh at his actions. He learned quickly who belonged at the airport and who didn't. After meeting the pilots of the choppers on that day, he always ran out to greet them in his "Happy" bark any time the came back.
He went to his reward last spring while contesting his much younger peers for the affections of a local gyp in heat. His heart was willing but his body gave out on him and he died in his sleep.
So long old friend!
OLE GAR SEZ - 4 Boats, 4 Planes, 4 houses. I've got to quit collecting!
My Uncle who lived out from Ozone, AR had a GREAT coon dog! They hunted together every day for years. It got to the point where my Uncle could just leave the size tanning board out on the back porch and the dog would bring the right size coon in later that day. But, one day his wife left the ironing board out on the back porch and the dog hasn't been seen since.
Joe
51 C170A
Grand Prairie, TX
51 C170A
Grand Prairie, TX