Stumpy Strikes Again!

I left Sister in charge of the house this weekend while I spent a couple of relaxing days out east with Ma and Pa.  I told her to periodically check the perimeters.  I told her to keep the squirrels, bunnies, and other assorted interlopers at bay while I was out.  It was a simple request.  She should have had no trouble following through.

That said, I came home to this:

Stumpy, that stupid little half-squirrel half-rabbit freak, had struck again and this time he left a pizza crust on my window sill.

Now, I know what you, my loyal readers are thinking.  You’re thinking, “Hey, that was a really nervy thing for Stumpy to do, but maybe that means that the pizza tree* is flowering again.  Maybe he’s doing you a favor.”  Well, I checked and there are no other pizza crusts on the pizza tree so either Stumpy took the only slice or the remains on my window sill are his take-out leftovers.

Any way you slice it, it just goes to show that good security help is hard to find.

 
* For all my new fans out there, click here to read about the famous (and delicious) pizza tree.

While I Was Out

This was an odd month.

It all started three Fridays ago (yeah, Sister's been kind of negligent when it comes to recording my stories...you just can't get good help).  Anyway, three Fridays ago, Sister got up earlier than usual (she's about as much a morning person as I am, so her getting up early is always a surprise) and rather than pack her work bag, she packed her overnight bag, kissed me on the snout, and left the house.

A few hours later, she sent me the following video.

I was confused.  That barking in the background?  It sounded really familiar, but I just couldn't put my paw on it.  Those deer, however, definitely looked familiar (actually, I'm pretty sure I've barked at them before).  And that backyard?  Not only was it familiar, I knew exactly where it was.  It was my backyard out east.

A little later, Sister sent me the following picture and things suddenly started to make sense.

It was my bff Mecki and his little brother Bastille!

But then I started thinking...what are Mecki and Bastille doing in my house out east?

I learned later that Sister and Karin had spent the weekend out east eating Reubens (they didn't bring me a doggy bag), hunting for treasure on the beach with a metal detector (they dug up a quarter without my help), sightseeing (the last time I went to Greenport it was 95 degrees and Pa and I spent an hour looking for a shady tree to sit under), and painting rocks (if you recall, growing up, rocks were "my only friends").  And when they weren't directly included in the fun, Mecki and Bastille lounged in my house and barked at my deer!

Collar Bling

Two days later (and smelling like Mecki and Bastille), Sister came home and brought with her a peace offering for me--some bling for my collar.  Now, I was a bit annoyed that I wasn't invited on the trip, but Sister's gift was just so me that I couldn't be too mad at her for very long.  I mean, look at it!  As my loyal readers know, I so don't get fetch!

Anyway, as the new week began and life got back to normal, I kind of forgot about the previous weekend (except for the occasional fits of laughter that came about whenever Sister described Bastille lunging face first at the glass window and sliding down it cartoon style).  In fact, by the time the following weekend rolled around, my concern and bitterness had disappeared completely.

Which brings me to two Friday nights ago.  After they had returned home from work and finished their dinners, Ma and Pa whisked me into the car and we headed out east.

When I got there, I immediately ran inside the house and hot footed it to my pillow where my toys are usually kept.  But they weren't there.  Ma, thinking quickly, grabbed a squeaky ball left on the table and tossed it onto my pillow.  I lowered my head to grab the toy, but stopped inches from the ball.  My pillow smelled like Mecki.

I looked up quizzically at Ma who was watching me expectantly.  It was then that I realized that there was a wafting smell of Mecki and Bastille bombarding me from all directions.  I sniffed my way around the living room, then into the kitchen and the dining room.  I circled back into the living room (sniffed the bulging eye/nose smudge left on the window by Bastille's leap) then made my way to the guest room and bathroom.  Their scent was all around, yet my four-legged pals were nowhere to be seen.

Ma suggested at this point that we should go outside and check the perimeters, and do you know what?  Mecki and Bastille's scent was all over the backyard too.  I went around sniffing every tree and following every trail.  I sniffed high and low and even circled back a few times to sniff a spot again.  I was so preoccupied with the task of tracking my friends that I didn't even realize that I had wandered out the side gate until I heard Ma screaming my name.  She found me in the neighbor's front yard, hooked a finger under my collar, and escorted me back into my yard.  After a few more sniffs, Ma and I went back inside the house.

Once inside, I followed Pa, who seemed distracted by something, into the basement where I discovered that even that part of the house smell like my bff and his little brother.  I didn't get a great chance to really investigate because after a minute or so Pa hurried up the stairs to report that the heat wasn't working (I didn't notice, but then again, I'm always wearing a coat) and I felt like I needed to be present at the troubleshooting session that would surely follow the news.

An hour later, a knocking came at the door.  I started barking furiously expecting the knocker to be Mecki or Bastille showing up to end this game of hide and go seek.  Well, it wasn't Mecki or Bastille, but instead a repairman who made his way through the living room, then the kitchen, the dining room, and finally down into the basement to fix the burner.

Great, I thought, another trail to follow!

A Cruel Bunny

So, here's the good news. This post is not about Stumpy, that stupid little half-bunny half-squirrel freak who taunts me by storing leftover bread on my windowsills. No, today's post is about a stupid little fluffy tailed bunny who mocked me unmercifully last weekend.

It was early evening and I was outside with Pa for my post-supper business trip/check of the perimeter. I wandered up and down the fence connecting my property and Bruno's (sadly, he wasn't home), scanned the front yard through the fence for deer (none), and gave a mighty bark to alert the neighborhood dogs of my presence (a high-pitched bark from a block over answered my call). With the perimeter seemingly secure, I started toward the back corner of the yard to my designated business area, but stopped after a few feet when a sudden movement caught my eye. There, in the middle of the grass, about twenty-five feet away from me, was a stupid little bunny staring back at me with his stupid little unblinking glass marble-like eyes.

As my loyal readers know, I couldn’t, in good faith, allow this interloper to brazenly ignore the boundaries of my property. I had to chase him away. Immediately, I started running toward the stupid little bunny and that stupid little bunny turned his stupid little fluffy bunny tail and made a mad dash for the back fence. He chose poorly, however. The area of the fence he fled to lacked an escape hole out of the yard.

Realizing he had no way out, the stupid little bunny turned 90 degrees and started running back into the yard toward the direction of the front gate. I made the turn as well and followed after him. It was after I made the turn, however, that the bunny realized something. He was easily outpacing me.

Now, I need to interrupt my story for a moment to set the record straight. First, the stupid little bunny had a rather large head start on me. Second, I’m good for quick sprints. Ten to twenty feet and I’m a rock star. This particular chase turned out to be more than twenty feet and I had already run up and down the stairs from the house to the backyard numerous times that day. Third, turning on a dime is not really my forte—Newton's First Law and all.

Anyway, so rather than just run away, the stupid little bunny decided to taunt me. He purposely started running in large looping zigs and zags--zigs and zags meant to give me the opportunity to catch up.

Eventually, the stupid little bunny escaped out the front gate and I spent a fair amount of time barking at him through the fence and between running-induced gasps. He was out of my yard, but the damage was done. How offensive he was! How utterly offensive!

So, if there were any readers out there who have, throughout the years, secretly felt sorry for all those stupid little bunnies, squirrels, lizards, robins, and cats I’ve chased out of my yard, I hope you finally realize how mean they can be. They deserve to be chased out of my yard, especially if they decide to mock me on my own turf.