Friday, July 8, 2016

You Have Not Lived (the full country experience) Until ...

     One of your dogs ...
     Gets sprayed by a skunk.

     While this is definitely not my first rodeo, it is (by far) my WORST ...
     (That it takes place at 2AM only exacerbates the wound.)

     For the record, Pyrenees, world renown for protecting goats, sheep and wounded creatures everywhere a la St. Francis, would normally think nothing of having a cat in their mix. And at least 4 of my 5 do consider our cats family.

     But isn't it so life?

     There's always that one ...

     Rosebud (my wild child Pryenees) hates cats.

     What this means for us around here is that Boo, never knowing for sure which big white dog might make the occasional indoor visit, keeps an eye out. No biggie.
     The outside (so called feral) cats, are on super high alert now that wiley coyote here has found (more likely "created") a hole in the fence ...a hole I thought I had found/fixed/resolved; clearly I was mistaken.
     To her credit, Rosebud's very smart, and has (all by herself) figured out:
                           "Inside=AC -- Outside=Barn floor...Is this a trick question?"
While placating me come meal time, she has for the past two nights, shown up at my door when she's had enough...(leaving Hix and TJ at the gate ...blank stares and some version of "Dang. How'd she do that?" popping like a cartoon bubble over their big ol doggie heads)

     Until fence dude makes it this weekend,  it was easier just let her in...my thinking being -- if a dog is this smart, she deserves a little A/C for a day or a night...
     That was my thinking ...
                                                until last night.

     Hunkered down for the night, we were bolted from our sleep when Rosebud, out of nowhere, commences to barking (inside the house--just to be clear). With outside dogs prompting (or following ... hard to say) this leads me to conclude: "Must be a coyote, otherwise, why would she risk her cushy comforts after all this effort?"
   
     I stumble downstairs to let her do what we have Pyrs here to do in the first place, which is to say "Go Rosebud go. Protect your charge. Run that critter off."

     Five minutes later, after hearing an ever so slight skirmish (nothing huge) ~ I conclude: mission accomplished...  I open the door to let her back in...

     Only to find .......

                           OH DEAR LORD ROSEBUD ....WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??

                                               ~~~~~~~~WHEEEEEEWWW~~~~~~~

     Looking up at me with eyes swollen (rims, totally pink) and a stench that could knock down Manhattan,  she left me no choice: I quickly shut the door. Heading downstairs water bucket in tow, I open the garage door to a dog of mixed emotional facial expressions~ (Good news: Hey Mom~ Ran it off! Bad news~ Didn't win.)

     Rosebud sashays into the garage and with head hung low, she circles twice and plops~thoroughly understanding why she won't be in the big house tonight.

     I wash up/wrap up and make my way back to bed (now 3 am) when, thump! I feel a pounce. I flip on the light to find Roz (Rosebud's daughter...now 80 pounds herself, thankyouverymuch)...with her nose squarely positioned under my pillow as if to say, "First floor --too close to basement! You mind?"

     While not our habit to let dogs sleep on beds, I was too tired (and quite frankly too tickled) to care. I flip off the light, pet my therapeutically-inclined canine and say, "We'll deal with it tomorrow Roz...But she is still your mama."


     For the record, today's no better. Not enough tomato juice on the planet...Gonna have to ride this one out~

     Here's praying your weekend brings a lovelier bouquet ~

Rosebud wakes to greet the day... Hope springs eternal...
(for her at least...for the rest of us, jury's still out~)

Thank you Mr. Fence Dude for showing up early.


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