Rosey 1: Coyotes 0

   

     There are barks and there are barks...and then there are the growls. Each sound sends a message and when it comes to Pyrs (as with any breed you live with long enough) you start to recognize the differences if you listen close enough. Even when they wake you, there's comfort in hearing the sounds a dog makes, especially those hired to keep an eye out for things.
     But let a thing get a lit-tle too close...All bets are off. Intruder Beware!
     Such was the case of Wiley Coyote (may he RIP). I'm sure he was somebody's papa, but on Rosey's turf, Rosey rules. Next time, dude, you might wanna do your prowling elsewhere.
     Graciously she spared me the gory details; my only clue that something was up when I couldn't get Rosey out of the garden a night ago. My first thought went to deer. It is not uncommon this time of year to see deer parts in your yard (gross as they are to find). Some deer fall wounded (more common with bow hunters). Some remains are left behind from cleaning, (leaving guts behind for buzzards is not uncommon in the country...Deer guts, btw, are called "umbles" It's where we get the phrase "Umble Pie" (often mistaken for "Humble Pie" though the phrase origin has to do with deer intestines made into pies for serfs and servants, so as to make use of every possible piece of a slaughtered deer, i.e. the "chitlins" of a deer....Little "I Didn't Know That" moment for you).
     All a part of nature. All a part of life in the country. (Insert your Lion King/Disney tune here.)
     But in the unsolved mystery of "What the heck is Rosey eating?" from a night ago, it was an Agatha Christy moment when by the light of day I made my way cautiously, delicately out to where she was once again, hunkered down over her prey, growling her guttural victory growl, uncertain if I was there to scold or remove or both. (Trust me. I'm not THAT stupid.)
     Definitely not a scolding moment. No, no. Nay, nay. This was a "GOOD DOG ROSEY! GOOD GRRRRRRL!" kinda moment, for Rosey had done what God put Pyrenees on the planet to do: Rosey had killed herself a coyote!
     Let the record reflect (having raised Huskies and wolf breeds in a prior life) I probably would've cried had I witnessed this first hand, after all, this creature must surely have a family of its own given the eerie-baby cries we've been hearing recently...(For those who've never heard this, there is no sound in the world like a bunch of coyote pups howling at the moon...One of the most unique, albeit, spine-tingling noises you'll ever hear.) Why I'm sure Wiley was just shopping for groceries like the rest of us, but (sorry dude) my goats are not your Butterball!
     Thankfully Rosey (and God) spared me the worst of it. By the time I found what was left of the dude, Rosey was paws to pelt, crunching on his head giving me this: "Let me just polish this off" kinda glance.
     Meanwhile, back in the pen were three super impressed (though slightly jealous) relatives and 16 very relieved goats (perched high atop their spools)!

   
   

TJ My Protector Dog

     For reasons I can't explain there is something about this massive dog protecting his favorite stuffed toy that cracks me up.  TJ, seen here, chooses bunnies over bones any day, and should you dare consider trying to take it from him, well you'll be drawing back a nub.
     (The lighter side of my day today. Some days (most days) it takes the critters to keep it in perspective. In TJ's world, it's all about the bunny.)

Gimme a "P" !! (Not YOU, Hix!)

     Ok. Anyone who knows anything about Pyrenees know they live to protect. Around here, I have so many, it can sometimes get confusing as to who's protecting what, so we keep a chart.
     TJ (alpha male) protects the goats.
     Rosey (TJs sister) protects the girl. (That would be me.)
     Rosebud (Rosey's daughter) pretends to protect her uncle TJ but mostly protects the perimeter at night.
     That leaves Hiccapup, (aka Hix) who has taken it upon himself to protect anything and everything that remains; his favorite being Minsky. (He'd like to protect Boo, though Boo is having no part of it, and now I know why.)

      I was deeply moved to watch Hix go above and beyond to let Minsky know he had her back. (Sadly, Minsky at nearly 15, is for all practical purposes deaf, so Hix (listen closely) whimpers in such high pitch decibels, she can (for a brief second) hear him; she feels him near).  Having reached for my camera to turn up the sound in this precious exchange, I had not paid attention to the image...until now. (Had to laugh to keep from crying...This SO sums up my week, my night, my life...)

Pyr Pressure

          I awoke to barking I had not heard before…And I thought I knew 'em all.

         There’s the happy bark that yelps, “She’s Home!” And the hungry bark that says “Let’s eat!” There’s a low, gruff bark that commences to a steady pitched bark when a cement truck or school bus drives by, which is nothing compared to the steady loud bark for things coming up our drive. 

          There are growly barks for the occasional bone debate and a long, slow, guttural growl if you dare get between TJ and a new stuffed toy.

          There are threatening “get back or I’ll bite” barks (usually done while under the porch with a bone with teeth showing) and there's one very specific “Don't you EVEN think about stepping on our porch” bark when a stranger comes near.

          But the barking that woke me this morning was none of these. It was 5 am; the whole pack was barking incessantly. Given that Pyrs are nocturnal (sleep all day/bark all night) I’m used to night barking and have more or less learned to block it out. But this was different. It started loud, and would then fade into the distance, then it would ramp back up again… It was continuous, and it wasn't about to quit anytime soon. The dogs were seriously upset about something.

          I must confess, my first reaction was to reach for a second a pillow. A high pitched yelp and I’m out the door in 10 seconds flat. But this was group bark. Whatever it was, they had each other's backs. It didn’t alarm me so much as it woke me. But with no break in the pattern, I couldn't ignore it.

          Tossing on jeans and boots I head to the door when I instantly spot the problem: two unwanted guests. From where I was standing I couldn’t make out if they were German Shepherds or possibly coyotes, but whatever they were, they were after the goats.

          The outside animals were stalking the parameter, looking for a break in the fence, (hence the volume change of dogs first on this end, then on the far end). TJ kept the goats in check; the other three maintained their side of the fence~ and back and forth they went.

T

          The intruders ran off with a porch light and a loud "HEY!" But I gotta say, there is nothing more beautiful than a Pyr doing its job (unless it’s 4 Pyrenees doing their jobs).