Two Stories

Happy National Dog Day to all my four-legged friends!  Wag your tails, beg for table scraps, and dig in the garden with abandon!

In honor of this great day, I wish to share with you, my loyal readers, two little stories from the last couple of weeks.

Soft Mouth:

Members of my breed are supposed to have soft mouths--meaning that we are able to pick up delicate items in our mouths without causing them damage.  Now, some might think that I missed this gene and, to be honest, I couldn’t really blame them when you consider the dozens of punctured shoes and gnawed on remote controls I’ve left in my wake over the years.  But I definitely do have this trait and it was on full display a couple of mornings ago.

That particular morning, Pa and I were sitting on the side step spending some quality father-son time before he went to work.  After a couple of moments, Pa extended his hand and offered me a small red ball which I dutifully took in my mouth.  But what was I supposed to do with it?  I gently rolled it around my mouth a couple of time, looked back at Pa, and tossed the small red ball back into his hand.  A little surprised, Pa offered me the small red ball again and I again tossed it back to him.  This happened two more times before I suddenly realized that the small red ball I had been tossing back and forth to Pa was in fact a cherry tomato.  Once I came to this realization, I quickly ate the tomato, but apparently I am easily fooled because Pa and I repeated the entire process the following morning (though, to my credit, I only tossed the tomato back to Pa three times before eating it).

Almost No Trace:  

A couple of months ago, Ma discovered undeniable proof that I had taken to spending my days in the basement Land of No (story here).  However, it seems that half the thrill of my super-secret spot was the fact it was indeed secret.  So, immediately after the discovery, I started seeking out a new spot to spend my days and haven't returned to the basement since.

Well, good news.  I found a new spot!

Now, whenever someone comes home after leaving me alone for any period of time, he or she will likely discover, smack dab in the middle of Ma and Pa's bed, a warm spot that matches the shape of my snoozing back-end. 

But unlike the discovery of my forays into the Land of No, I will not be put off from curling up on the bed each day.  I mean, it is just too good a spot to give up on it that easily.  After all, it...

• ...is soft:  The Land of No has tile floors and no comfy cushions while the bed has a mattress, blankets, and pillows to lounge on.
• ...has a view:  With the added height of the mattress, I can stare out through the back window and bark at any four-legged interlopers in my yard (squirrels, bunnies, etc.).
• is nice and cool:  The air conditioner is right there.

So basically, I see no reason to give up on my new spot.  In fact, the only way I can see that spot getting better is if my food bowl (full of course) was left by one of the pillows.

Yeah, that would be great!

Stumpy

Benedict Arnold, Peter Pettigrew, Marcus Brutus, Guy Fawkes, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Judas Iscariot, Michael Dawson; some of literature, television, and history's greatest traitors.  And, as much as it pains me, I can now add my own family to that list.  Why?  Because they've taken a shine to a...ugh, it pains me to even write the words.  Because they've become attached to a certain squirrel that hangs around the property.

Allow me to introduce Stumpy, the annoying little squirrel who has a short stumpy tail (hence his name).

Stumpy the Squirrel--note the tail

My family loves Stumpy.  They laugh when they see him moseying around the neighborhood, they share stories of seeing him lying on his belly in his tree or on the front step, and they look for him each morning when they go out to their cars.

Now, as for me, I don't like Stumpy.  I don't like him for two specific reasons (well, three if you count the fact that he is, in fact, a squirrel).

Number One:  I'm not allowed to chase him.

I'm a dog and Stumpy is a squirrel.  I'm supposed to chase him off my property and he's supposed to run like hell when he sees me.  It's in our DNA.  It's how the world works.  But, because Sister is concerned that Stumpy's near lack of tail might affect his balance, she doesn't want me chasing him up trees or down fences just in case he falls off and he and I get a little too close for everyone's comfort.

Which is exactly what almost happened a couple of days ago.  You see, I pushed my way outside before Sister could secure the backyard and I ended up chasing Stumpy down the entire length of the fence (yes, Sister was screaming hysterically the whole time which I found quite annoying).  While running on the chain linked fence, Stumpy managed to hold his own.  But when he had to jump from picket to picket on the front fence, that's where his balance proved less than stellar and he nearly fell off a couple of times.

Number Two:  He hops.

Stumpy doesn't really move around like a normal squirrel.  Instead, he kind of hops.  In fact, because of his hopping gait and short stubby tail, he strongly resembles a stupid little bunny (aka my arch nemesis).  Over the last couple of weeks, I've found myself questioning many a time over if Stumpy was actually a stupid little bunny dressed up as a squirrel; a bunny in squirrel clothing so to speak.  I don't think he is, but the thought still crosses my mind occasionally.
 Anyway, as for the bunny emulating...my family finds it endearing and incredibly cute.  I find it disturbing.