A local version of an idyllic afternoon
I spent the afternoon with the two boys, watching the comings and goings around the feeders. (note to readers: the two are technically “it”, if we want to use pronouns andsuch in the rignt manner. I haven’t the heart to point out their actual physionomy. Too much stress would result) They’re friends and neigbours. One stays with us, pretty much all the time, and the other comes by whenever his people have to be absent overnight. It takes a village to raise a child, and that holds true for canines.
My role is to open the door on demand. A dog is usually on the wrong side, at any given moment, and I get the look (and the bark) whenver I lose focus. I have only one tether, so they take turns. I did the dance to assure that there are no escapes. Jailer? Not really; we have no bars. Once outside, the actions are predicated by anything that comes by. Squirrel. Truck. Ghosts. Oh yes, I’ve watched one spend twenty minutes, barking at nothing at all.
There’s also the game where you weave the tether around any poles in the area (bird feeders are magnets for silly weavers). If the tether line grows too short for comfort, barking. Not the same tones as those used for ghosts, but you get the idea.
Once in a while, a delivery person approaches, and then the decibels go off the scale. I’m glad we don’t get many delivery moments. We had a good afternoon. No rain. And as the evening takes over, the “blue eyed guy” will go home, with his food supply and his zapper collar. This isn’t a jail. Really. It’s just that if someone escapes from custody (this isn’t a jail, OK?) we need to bring the wandering spirit back. Ghost prevention. It only happened three times, today.
Come nightfall, we could have intruders, so the ability to bark at nothing at all serves as a deterrent. I think. Haven’t any solid evidence, but we have to believe.
