I have to admit it. Bruno, the Boxer puppy who recently moved in next door, is a rather cool dude. Sure, I was a bit skeptical at first--remember when I was way more interested in playing with his squeaky toys than with him? --and I may have snickered a little that weekend he showed up at the fence wearing the cone of shame, but since then, he's grown up to be not only a good guy, but a great accomplice.
But before I describe our shenanigans, allow me first to describe how we got to be such good friends.
After our backyard play date a few months ago, the only interactions I had with Bruno were barking matches; we'd either stand face to face barking or we'd run up and down the fence barking. This troubled my family. We were very loud and there was a fear that one or both of us might get hurt while we chased each other up and down the fence (Bruno was running between bushes while I had to dodge trees and vole holes).
But then one day, Pa declared that he had had enough; he was going to end our barking and running for good. First, he waited for Bruno's barking howl. After confirming that Bruno was indeed barking from his usual spot at the fence and not screaming from inside the house, Pa opened the back door and released me into the yard. Goaded by the barking, I made a bee line for the fence shouting out my own comments and Bruno and I immediately started running up and down the fence in our customary fashion. All of a sudden, however, we both stopped dead in our tracks. Pa was standing by the fence and he had a handful of cookies in his hand.
Both Bruno and I scurried over to Pa. First, he made us sit (well, I, being a well-trained dog, sat...Bruno kind of bounced around in a puppy like fashion), then he alternated between feeding us cookies and scratching our heads.
And that was it. Pa had successfully established a pack--a food driven pack. Bruno and I haven't had a full out barking match since then. Sure, if Bruno calls from the fence and I'm inside, I'll bark out a hello, but now we are able to bunk noses through the fence without incident.
Which leads to our alliance.
Now that we're buds, Bruno and I work together to coerce cookies out of our humans. After all, two sets of sad brown eyes begging for a treat are harder to deny a cookie to than one pair. Our success rate depends on who we're working with. Pa is always good for a cookie while Sister is hit or miss. Ma, on the other paw, is much stingier.
We also cover for each other. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that there was a strange odor coming from the tall dense bushes underneath the dining room windows. Every time I went to investigate, however, I was shooed away by my humans who were always warning me about bugs, killer turtles, and the dangers of coming across that big fat cat that lives across the street. Needless to say, I was frustrated. How can I be Head of Security when I'm not allowed to do a thorough check of my own property? And that's when Bruno stepped in. One day, while Ma and I were hanging out in the backyard, Bruno approached the fence and gave Ma his cutest puppy-dog look. Unable to resist, Ma was drawn to him and began showering him with attention. That's when I made my move. Across the yard I scurried, making a bee line for the dense bushes. Before I plunged in, I looked back toward Ma. She was still petting Bruno. This was my chance. With my nose furiously sniffing, I rushed headlong into the bushes.
By the time Ma realized that she had been duped, the only part of me that was visible from outside the bushes was my wagging tail. Shouting my name, Ma rushed over, grabbed me by my collar, and dragged me out of the bushes.
I never did find out what it was that I smelled, but I did get to sniff through some smelly decomposing leaves which was nice. As Ma escorted me back in the house, I looked toward Bruno and wagged my tail in thanks.
