Friday, August 17, 2007
Doggy Sleepovers and the Food Tree
Yay! My friend Monty is here. Don’t tell him I made such a big fuss, but I really like having him around to play with. He comes every once in a while when his people go somewhere and we have just the best time for a few days.
He’s a yellow lab who used to be all big and overweight like a cow dog. Then he hurt his knee. After he got it fixed his people decided maybe he shouldn’t eat so much. They pretty well starved him for months, but boy does he look great now. All trim and agile. You’d never mistake him for me, of course, but for a dufus-y boy dog he’s not half-bad.
One thing Monty could always do, even when he was big, was swim. When we go to the creek Monty is always first to the stick wherever Mum or Dad throw it, no matter how far. I can’t keep up once he’s in the water. I figured out if I wait at the bank and bark at him, Monty will let me grab the stick out of his mouth when he climbs out. I win and he does all the work. Pretty clever, huh?
Ruby rules for Pully, Keep-Away and other games: Monty is not allowed on the couch... ever!
Really, though, he loves being in the water and would chase sticks until full dark if we let him. He doesn’t care about bragging rights. Yesterday at the creek he swam and swam while I nosed around in the trees and looked for ducks. I haven’t seen any of those for a long time. I think they must have got the message that it’s Ruby’s creek and they fish in it at their peril.
I know you don’t believe all those stories about how I could never catch up to a duck in the water. I just let ‘em get away so that they’ll keep coming back.
Monty is used to getting up really early in the morning at his house. My Mum and Dad don’t get out of bed quite as early as he would like, so he makes these big roary, rumbly noises like a rhinossomus until one of them either gets up to take us for a walk or shuts us outside the bedroom. Then he just stands at the door and does it.
Lately I’ve discovered how much fun it is to join in and bark while Monty rumbaroars. Then I jump on the bed for cuddles while Monty gets all frantic. He’s not allowed on the bed cause we don’t want him to get in trouble by going home with a new bad habit he learned from me. Wait. That didn’t come out right. It’s a very good habit, really. You know what I mean.
Um, I’m in a bit of trouble right now. Monty had to go back to his people. After that Mum took me for our afternoon hike. Naturally when she took off the leash I had to go inspect the “food tree,” that juniper where someone leaves food for the coyotes, just to make sure nobody suspicious had been prowling around.
Mum and Dad get really mad about that food tree. They say it just encourages coyotes and other animals to come around where they shouldn’t, and to get used to people, and well, dogs too, which is bad for everybody. I have to agree.
But everyone knows it’s part of my job to make sure no dangerous animals are about, so I trotted on over to the tree, quietly, so I wouldn’t scare my Mum, and had a look. There might have been some food there, I don’t really remember, cause I was sniffing for coyotes, of course, and couldn’t be bothered about food. And if there was any it might have been all moldy, smelly and delightful to the palate, for someone less busy than me to notice.
Mum might have been calling me, I’m not sure, since I was all vigilant for varmints, and that rotten food didn’t interest me in the least. Except slightly for research purposes, maybe, if at all. It’s important to know just what attracts the bad guys, you see.
Anyway, if I might have had just a little bite, not liking it or anything, and realized how important it was for everyone’s safety that I get rid of that nasty coyote bait, and to do it very quietly so I wouldn’t upset Mum about the danger, then it’s just possible I might have been all hunkered down under the juniper scarfing down oozy bits when my Mum found me.
For some reason she was all mad.
She took me right home and called my Dad.
I’m going out to the porch now and, burp, euh, guard from my, burp, porch.
Not feeling so good.