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Kasin Hunter's Dogs Page


Bear is an adoptee from next door. My hard-of-hearing neighbor had to move to New York. His dog family included a German Shepard and a Chow-mix. He had already decided to send the Shepard to Mexico to some relatives of his. Bear, the Chow-mix was another matter.

Bear is a one-person dog. She loves one person at a time. This makes her an excellant watch dog. It also made it hard to adopt her out.

Bear would never come up to the fence to say hi to me even though I passed by her yard and said "hi" everyday on my trip to the mail box. But gradually, after an entire year, she finally warmed up enough to me to say hello. No one else in the neighborhood had even come this close to her. So, it was a given that I was to be Bear's new mom.

I requested that my neighbor let Bear visit several times before the final transition so that she and my current dogs would be used to each AND Bear wouldn't miss his company so much.

It worked! :)

My hard-of-hearing neighbor got to his new job in New York, and our home was blessed by a new furry face. She and I are very devoted to each other. Even though two new dogs have entered the yard, Bear knows she has priority at the feeding time and gets in the truck first to go on rides. Seniority has its privileges! :)


Smile! You're on Canine Camera!

This is C.C. (or Chocolate Chip -- any wonder?! Look at those freckles!)

C.C. and I had a destined relationship. We met quite by accident and to both our good fortunes one summer day on the north side of the Catalina Mountains. She was lost. I was a two-dog family, a family that needed another fuzzy face. I was caving and camping and noticed a four-legged critter walking a ridge just above the pine tree-lined campground. It walked, howled, looked around, then continued on along the ridge.

It turned out that C.C. and her brother, a German Shepard had both been lost on the same day -- a full week prior to this eventful day. My camping companion said he had heard a domestic dog howling the night before -- C.C. looking for her lost brother.

I called and coaxed her down to camp with the only yummy I had, a cold hot dog. As she got closer to me and the meat, my heart sank. She was covered in wasp stings, cactus, cuts . . . this poor animal. (What have you been through, sweetheart?)

While she devoured all six hotdogs and supped on water, I picked out cactus.

Back to town we went. She slept all the way back.

We advertised all over Southern Arizona. Finally, we found her owners. They met with us a few days later.

They had found their Shepard. They didn't want this German Shorthair Pointer.

My prayer had been I answered, because I DID! They told me her name was C.C. for all the freckles or chocolate chips on her hair. Perfect name!

C.C. is seen above, smiling. I was taking a picture of my family at Christmas and (shame on me!) I forgot to ask her to come over and pose -- so she posed herself right in font of the entire group as seen below!

She loved to go climbing with me. She's the only dog that made it six times up to the top of Picacho Peak. Her favorite thing to do was, believe it or not, camping! Her favorite things to do while camping was chasing lizards and killing wasps! :) Atta girl! May she rest in peace -- no! make that fun!!! chasing lizards and never being lost again in dog heaven. See you later, gal. Save me a hot dog or two.

Ahhhh, the lap of luxury! Here's Levi, or as his subjects know him, Lord Levi of Hermosa. As a puppy he had his own bean bag chair and knew full well how to take advantage of it. Ahhhhh . . .

Levi was the Gentleman of the Yard. He never jumped up or was rude. He was always waiting by the back fence to see my truck come around the corner after work. He LOVED to be petted -- "I'll give you an hour to quit that" was his motto.


Dinner time. Levi oversees any possible scrap disbursement.


"Mom, are you sure you didn't have
something good to eat?"
Here's Levi's brothers and sisters before they left their birth home:


Levi and Luke (Levi's playmate) sharing one of their favorite toys--
the inner tube to gift wrapping paper.

Levi's famous, too. Here's some illustrations of him seen in magazines for poem accompianments, advertisements, etc.: (click on pics for larger version)

Luke came to me through more traditional means--purchase from a breeder. (He's the only dog I purchased that way. With all the animals needing homes in shelters, I'll not do that again.)
Luke considered himself a football player even at 10 years old. His rule was that if he wanted something, he got it. Rottys have the second highest muscle to bone ratio in the dog kingdom. This is one reason the owner must use firm fair discipline with deep love, or this breed of dog will rule the house. His favorite place was under the mobile home in what looked more than anything like a pit from a bomb blast. All I could see when he was under there was his the top of his head. He dug it to suit him. That was fine with me -- all great creatures deserve a place of solitude and peace to think his thoughts. Levi was not allowed in Luke's pit. Luke was not allowed in Levi's bean bag chair. Fair is fair.


As puppies, Luke was much stronger than Levi, and I saw in immediate need for Levi to have a safe place in house away from Luke's big feet -- thus the Bean Bag Safety Zone came into effect. Levi used only occasionally and usually gloated when he did. Luke respected the in-house rules and in return immediately set down no-zones in the yard where Levi could not go. Levi, in turn, respected these areas, like the deep pit under the mobile home. It all worked out for everyone, including me, who enjoyed having peace and quiet in both places. :)

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