A Little Tale Of Good Cop(per)/Bad Cop(per)

Perhaps you remember our side-neighbor dog, Copper.

He has been roaming again. And by roaming, I mean living in our freakin' doggone (I WISH) yard. I see him run across toward the chicken house a lot. Not to worry, there's only a couple of chickens left. We'll restock in the spring, and Farmer H might sit on the front porch enjoying his retirement in his tighty whities in the rocking chair whittlin' with the paintball gun across his knees to dissuade Copper from snacking on our new fowl.

At night, our dogs go crazy barking at Copper. I can tell he's their concern, because they're on the garage end of the house, where Copper enters their territory. By day, Puppy Jack (aka Benedict Barkold) traitorously frolics in the front yard with Copper. BUT when I go out to walk, and make my turn to start back toward the Mansion, and see Copper advancing from the barbed wire fence (not good for keeping dogs in) to the carport, Jack takes off like a guard dog, chasing Copper away to save me. He might have a future in acting, that Puppy Jack.

Today, while I was in the shower, I heard a big commotion on the front porch. Thumping. Like somebody walking across the boards. The dogs were baying loudly. I thought maybe a UPS driver had carried a package up to the door. I didn't hear the doorbell, or the customary two knocks that they give before rushing back to their Big Brown. When I got out, I looked on the porch, but nothing was there. I suppose Copper had come up and made himself at (our) home.

Here's the kicker. Tuesday morning, I looked out the front window because I heard the dogs again with their intruder bark. And I heard a dog barking back. More than one. Not my dogs' voices. There was Puppy Jack, all fierce with his legs braced, in the middle of the yard, looking across at the horse-field neighbors' land. THERE WAS COPPER, also in our front yard, just a bit ahead of Puppy Jack, ALSO BARKING at the horse-field neighbors' land. And just across the gravel road, looking ready to charge, was

THE CRAZY ROTTWEILER MIX!

That's right. That bob-tailed black-and-tan maniac was mounting an assault on my fleabags, but was stopped by Copper!

My Sweet, Sweet Juno was nowhere to be seen. She does not like conflict, but comes out most of the time in support of Puppy Jack, whether it's for an intruder, or to stop a cat from scratching the living daylights out of him when its tired of being humped, or when I speak sternly to him in a BAD DOG manner for running after the horses. But there, facing the opposition with Jack, was Copper!

Copper had his hackles up. He was a sight to behold, all muscly and aggressive, charging short distances and snarling like he meant business. Jack did the same, from about twenty feet behind him. Ol' Crazy Bobtail finally shut up and went back down her own driveway.

That's some good karma for Copper. If he's going to be a watchdog for my property, I can put up with a few chicken snacks, and a little Jack-humping.

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Let the record show that when Copper barked at me IN MY OWN DRIVEWAY a couple of times, he did not use that tone with me! But I still won't let my guard down with him. He is, after all, an animal, and unpredictable.