An Extreme Lapse in Security

Allow me to set the scene.  It was a pleasantly cool sunny day in late September and I was taking full advantage of the weather by napping on the deck out east.  With homeland security always foremost in my mind, I purposely positioned myself so that I was facing out toward the street, ready to pounce should an intruder attack.  To the untrained eye, I might have appeared to be sleeping, but it was all a ruse.  I was a coiled spring ready to defend my turf at a moment’s notice. 

So ready was I that, a few minutes later, from what appeared to be a dead sleep, I was awakened by the smell of squirrel on the wind.  Snout in the air, I successfully tracked the furry little interloper across the deck and into the backyard.

But when I came back up onto the deck after showing the squirrel the door, Ma, who was also taking part in deck-time, was laughing at me.  It was only later, when Ma was talking to Pa, that I learned why she was laughing.  Apparently, there had been a massive breach in security.

Here’s what Ma saw:

Ma was sitting on the deck, reading her book, and, not far out in front of her, I was snoozing.  Suddenly, Ma heard a scuttling sound of tiny paws coming up from behind her.  She looked up from her book just in time to see a squirrel come strolling out from under her chair.  In disbelief, Ma watched as the squirrel continued walking forward and right past me acting, for all the world, like I wasn’t even there.  I, meanwhile, continued to snooze totally undisturbed.

A second later, Ma witnessed a second squirrel come scuttling up onto the porch and come to a halt besides her.  Ma watched in disbelief as the squirrel just stood there, completely oblivious of her and me.  Concerned that this entire event could end poorly, Ma moved her leg as a way of alerting the squirrel to the fact that he was not alone on the porch.  It was a good thing that she did because, based on the startled jump it did straight into the air, the squirrel wasn’t even remotely aware that he wasn’t alone.  I, meanwhile, continued snoozing.  After a moment, the squirrel regained his composure, did a reverse face, and hightailed it into the backyard.

It was shortly thereafter that I was awakened by the smell of squirrel on the wind.  Snout in the air, I successfully tracked the furry little interloper across the deck and into the backyard.

Needless to say, this entire event highlighted an extreme lapse in my security system and proved to be beyond embarrassing for me personally.  A full inquiry into the events of that cool sunny day will commence shortly.

Stretch Rigby

When you wake up in the morning, do you stretch?  When you feel like all your limbs are in a knot, do you stretch your arms out in an attempt to loosen up?  Did anyone have to teach you?

Well, when I was a little puppy I didn't know how to stretch.  Whenever I tried to stretch my legs out behind me, I ended up falling over and was subsequently mocked by my family.  As a result, I found a different way to stretch.  I'd stand up straight and tall on my four legs and arch my back up in the center.  It was great; I didn't fall over and I got a good stretch.  Unfortunately, I was still mocked because apparently I was now stretching like a cat (at the time I didn't know what a cat was--now I'm truly insulted by the comparison).  "Shouldn't dogs know how to stretch innately?" my family frequently asked aloud.  I felt a bit depressed by my inability to stretch properly but, because I was too busy stealing things, ripping up things, and gnawing on people's hands, I didn't dwell on it too much.

It wasn't until I was a little over one year old that I learned how to properly stretch.  You see, that summer my family was going to take a trip to Maine and decided that I should stay at the home of my good friend Ken the Dog Trainer (Ken was instrumental in turning me into a well behaved dog which was not an easy feat considering I had, in my family's words "a bad attitude" and far too many large gnashing teeth) and the other dogs he was boarding.  Let me tell you, I had so much fun!  I boxed and chest bunked a boxer and learned to play nice with little dogs (that's why I get along so well with my best friend Mecki).  Ken tried to teach me to ring a bell every time I wanted to go outside, but, while I enjoyed eating the peanut butter off the bell, I felt that such a parlor trick was below me and returned to simply barking hysterically at the door or acting up whenever I wanted out.  Anyway, it was from Ken's four legged boarders that I learned my most valuable lesson from.  They taught me how to properly stretch.

When my family picked me up from Ken's house a week later, they noticed that I had become a stretching fool!  I stretched when I came out of my crate.  I stretched when I got up from a nap.  I stretched because I was standing out in the sun.  I stretched because it was Tuesday.  I stretched whenever I got the chance and with each stretch I got better and better at it until I no longer fell over and didn't have to resort to stretching like a cat.

That is, at least until today.

When Sister came home from work to let me out at lunch time, I took advantage of the warm sun and prepared myself for a massive stretch.  While stretching my neck out as far as it would go, I began to walk forward with my front legs leaving my back legs stationary.  I kept walking further and further ahead enjoying the stretch when suddenly my back legs scooted out from under me and I collapsed flat on my belly.  I looked like a dog skin rug what with my back legs sticking straight back behind me.

I glanced around sheepishly hoping that no one saw what had happened.  The laughter emanating from Sister confirmed my greatest fears.