Sunday, April 09, 2006

But For the Fence...

The boy barks only on occasion and usually for not very long. Therefore, his repeated throaty growls and big-dog barking caught my attention.

As I stepped out to the deck, I saw him out in the corner of the yard, paws up on the tree, fully focused on some intruder hidden within the tree house.

Hoping against hope that it was the piece-of-shit trespasser who trashed the club house a few months back, I trudged out to the far corner (in my pajamas). The excited commotion continued, but the tail began to wag with the sight of my approach.

I suddenly wished that I had my baseball bat (or my .357) as I slowly climbed the wooden tree ladder. As I popped my head through the trap door, I observed two glowing demonic eyes peering at me from against the far wall.

Cat.

The beast realized quickly that while canines can't climb, tailless ape descendants can.

I jumped down to go fetch a cat-removal tool, but my efforts were for naught. Perceiving the possibility of escape, Garfield darted down the hole and out into the yard, putting him and the dog in an awkward instance of realization. The dog jumped first. The cat wasted no time, but chose the most unfortunate path, which took him along the far length of the yard.

The dog is half German Shepherd, half Husky. When he runs, it is usually more of a trot with his white-tipped tail waiving at vertical attention. This was something far different. I’m not sure whether you have ever seen the predator genetics activate in a big dog’s head, but I was seriously stunned by the force, strength and speed as the chase plowed past me.

The dog gained ground, but the fence came quickly. The invader escaped, but the boy was victorious in defending the yard.

I’ve never figured out why certain animal owners feel that it is OK to let their pesky little pets shit in my yard, put their paw prints on my paint job, and spread their allergen fur all over my things. Well, now it seems that a little speed training may just cure that problem permanently.

Good Dog!

9 comments:

  1. Anonymous11:42 AM

    Go Strider!
    Rid the world of those evil furballs

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous1:34 PM

    Screw that. I like cats.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous2:13 PM

    I like cats more than I like anonymous...and I hate cats

    ReplyDelete
  4. Depends on which anonymous you're talking about...

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  5. Anonymous2:25 PM

    I have no identity. How could you have any feelings toward me whatsoever? I think someone needs to invest in their offline relationships a little more. Or maybe you need a pet. Perhaps a cat?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Anonymous2:58 PM

    Who want to hear about my Uterus!!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Anonymous4:27 PM

    I wish my one year old white standard poodle had killer predator instincts. There was a cat in my back yard over the weekend. I released my vicious poodle to dismember the demonic intruder. No frenzied attack. No brutal animalistic predator instinct; just barking curiousity. "Another play thing!!!" The cat didn't even run. It knew it owned my dog though it was 1/10th the size. Labs, shepards and huskies are simply closer to their wolf cousins. Poodles are descended from an English ladies' wig.

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  8. Anonymous8:30 PM

    I'm starting to like this other anonymous. I may even give up the moniker.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Anonymous5:14 PM

    I know why you are afraid - Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!

    ReplyDelete

Be compelling.

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