"Shhhhh," he said. "Can you see anything?"
Well, it's pitch dark inside, but I noticed something had tripped the motion-sensor light on the deck.
We tippy toe over to the door and carefully peep out. Nothing. Meanwhile, the dog is wagging his tail, so happy to see us. Lloyd sits down on the couch and I settle into a chair. Dieter gets a drink of water and settles down by my feet. I offhandedly say to Lloyd: "Wouldn't the dog be more upset if there was a person out there? And wouldn't we see them?"
He agrees, but thinks we should wait a bit longer. I doze off and Lloyd dozes off. When I come to, I look out and there's a big raccoon, happily eating the bird seed I put out.
I lecture the dog: If it's walking on two legs, bark up a storm. If it's on four legs, button your lips.
There will seem to be a lull in the late-night wake up alerts and then he's at it again.
And sometimes he can sound really frantic. "Bark. Bark. Bark...this is really important. Zombies on the deck. Come down. Quick. Bark. Bark. Bark." He's a good one, that dog, at making us believe that this time it's the real deal. He's the dog who cried wolf, I guess.
To date, the score is: Zombies 0; marauding humans 0; and Raccoons 50.
Example of a two legger. |
I figured maybe a visual would help, so I mimed with my fingers what he could bark for and what he needed to keep still. Did it work? Not so well. For last night he had to alert us to the fact that there was a deck visitor. A raccoon--a four-legger.
Maybe he thinks he's to alert us when walking fingers show up on the deck...
And this is a four legger. |
No comments:
Post a Comment