This weekend, I'm exhibiting at the Candy Dance Festival in Genoa, Nevada's oldest town. Yesterday, people brought four Great Danes. One couple had two, a Brindle and a Fawn. One man had a Black. Another had a Merle. All quite large. All very calm and well-behaved.
Of course, the dogs were mobbed by the crowds, getting hugs, pictures, pets. Very fun.
There are many places in Tahoe worth revisiting again. And again. This is one of them.
The Rubicon Trail is accessed from D.L. Bliss State Park on the West Shore, just north of Emerald Bay. Because Rubicon Point is the tallest underwater cliff in the lake - 1000 vertical-foot-wall dropping under water - the depth gives the water an amazing color.
Note the two stand-up paddle boarders off the rocky point.
Much of the hike is substantially above the water, so you have many opportunities to look straight down into that amazing blue.
If you want more details, here's a link to a post I wrote four years ago:
It doesn't get better than this. High temp of 73, high 74, high 70...
And the forecast is calling for more of the same for the rest of the week. Add to that the fact that the tourists have largely left. Yesterday, we walked out to Pope Beach. It was deserted. The water was an amazing transition of intense blues. The beach sand was hot. And no one was there.
Chimps, Bonobos, and the other great apes are our closest relatives. They are highly intelligent and have complex societies that are surprisingly like ours. Yet there is something that your dog gets that they don't.
With very little training, your dog knows what you mean when you point at something. It will look where you're pointing because it knows that you want it to. Maybe it's which cup to knock over to find a treat. Or maybe it's a bird off in the next field.
But despite lots of effort, researchers can't seem to get our primate cousins to understand this basic skill.
Sure, there are no doubt lots of perfectly good reasons why chimps and bonobos don't understand pointing. Or maybe they do understand it, but don't care. (Cats, anyone?)
Two of our Great Danes got excited when we pointed. It didn't matter if it was a squirrel in a tree or a plane in the sky or a tennis ball in the grass or a treat we'd hidden. When we'd point, they would immediately turn and stare, frowning, focusing, looking for whatever it was that we were trying to indicate.