Tuesday, May 20, 2014

A Tale of Dogs

by Pa Rock
Gentleman Farmer

Junior, my part-time dog, ain’t no lightweight.  Although I have never seen him fight, his size and demeanor indicate that he could hold his own against all of the men, most of the canines, and a few of the women who inhabit this neighborhood.  That’s why I was so surprised when he came barreling across the front porch earlier this afternoon in an obvious state of panic.

I was sitting on the porch reading – and recuperating from an ill-advised spurt of pulling weeds – when I heard a dog howl.  I paid the noise no mind until, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black-and-white flash leap onto the porch and head right at me.  I barely had time to figure out that it was Junior when he crashed into my leg and then did a one-eighty and lunged back off of the porch.    There he nervously parked himself on the lawn and began staring off toward the back acreage.

Then I heard the dog howl again.  It wasn’t Junior.

Damn, I thought, that’s one mighty big dog!  Junior thought so too, because he again jumped up onto the porch and ran for me.  Then, after touching base, he turned and dived back onto the lawn – once more peering off into the distance.

Hoyle’s Official Rules of Retirement warns against reacting too suddenly to any situation, but, considering that I am responsible for the lives and well-being of thirty-some fat chicks who also reside behind the house, I ambled on over by Junior to take a look. 

And there they were!  Dogs!  Big dogs!  Big white dogs!  Three Great Pyrenees the size of Shetland ponies were lounging in the grass under one of the maple trees.    Those invaders who had struck terror into Junior’s heart sent a rush of pleasure through mine.  Junior saw monster dogs, while I was lost in memories of Paladin and Paloma – and Millie’s Shiva.

I tried to get in closer and make friends, but Junior, standing squarely behind me, was barking threats and orders to leave.  Soon the gentle behemoths had had enough of his racket, and they trotted off into the tree line in search of quieter adventures.

Junior followed me back onto the porch where he was literally shaking.  Sit, I told him – and he did.  Lay down, I ordered – and he did that also – while pressing his back up firmly against my foot.   If his human moved, Junior wanted to know about it!

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