A Dog Story
Our first Welsh Terrier was a young show bitch named Maggie. We called her Little Maggie No-No. She was a terrier with every inch and molecule of her being. Which means, dear reader, she had a sly, cunning intelligence and was game to the bone.
Game as it applies to dogs means, they never give up. Never. (Which is not a bad trait for wannabee screenwriters, but I digress.)
One day, while Maggie watched from her kennel, a squirrel had the audacity to run around the yard, up one tree and down another, conducting his squirrely business where he had no right to be -- which is in Maggie's yard.
When I let Maggie out for her afternoon exercise, the first thing she did was run right up the trunk of the last Golden Willow tree where she had seen the squirrel. Leaving me yelling, "Maggie, no-NO," and wondering how in the heck did she run up that tree?
Earl and I watched Maggie track the squirrel on tree branches twenty feet from the ground. Up and back. Up and back, she ran on limbs from two inches in diameter to twigs.
Earl stood under the tree and held his arms out in catching position. I didn't think this was a very good idea as Maggie weighed about twenty-five pounds. Someone who can do math could figure out how great a blow a twenty-five pound weight falling from twenty feet can deliver. I didn't know what to do.
And then I had an epiphany. When something is about to happen, and there is nothing you can do, the best solution is to do nothing. So, I stood and watched.
First one back foot slipped off. Then the other back foot. She hung between a fork in the tree by her little elbows or whatever doggie underarms are called. Then she fell. Hit Earl a glancing blow on the head, then she hit the ground.
She immediately jumped at the tree to climb back up. I grabbed Maggie by the tail, and Earl by the arm as he was teetering from being half-knocked out by falling dog.
And then I started laughing, because my house may be a lot of things, but dull ain't one of them.
Dogs in trees. Like that could happen.
Our first Welsh Terrier was a young show bitch named Maggie. We called her Little Maggie No-No. She was a terrier with every inch and molecule of her being. Which means, dear reader, she had a sly, cunning intelligence and was game to the bone.
Game as it applies to dogs means, they never give up. Never. (Which is not a bad trait for wannabee screenwriters, but I digress.)
One day, while Maggie watched from her kennel, a squirrel had the audacity to run around the yard, up one tree and down another, conducting his squirrely business where he had no right to be -- which is in Maggie's yard.
When I let Maggie out for her afternoon exercise, the first thing she did was run right up the trunk of the last Golden Willow tree where she had seen the squirrel. Leaving me yelling, "Maggie, no-NO," and wondering how in the heck did she run up that tree?
Earl and I watched Maggie track the squirrel on tree branches twenty feet from the ground. Up and back. Up and back, she ran on limbs from two inches in diameter to twigs.
Earl stood under the tree and held his arms out in catching position. I didn't think this was a very good idea as Maggie weighed about twenty-five pounds. Someone who can do math could figure out how great a blow a twenty-five pound weight falling from twenty feet can deliver. I didn't know what to do.
And then I had an epiphany. When something is about to happen, and there is nothing you can do, the best solution is to do nothing. So, I stood and watched.
First one back foot slipped off. Then the other back foot. She hung between a fork in the tree by her little elbows or whatever doggie underarms are called. Then she fell. Hit Earl a glancing blow on the head, then she hit the ground.
She immediately jumped at the tree to climb back up. I grabbed Maggie by the tail, and Earl by the arm as he was teetering from being half-knocked out by falling dog.
And then I started laughing, because my house may be a lot of things, but dull ain't one of them.
Dogs in trees. Like that could happen.
This is hysterical. Having recently adopted a terrier, I can relate to it completely!!!
ReplyDeleteTerriers are different alright. Anything else is just a dog. ;)
ReplyDelete