In Rode My Farmer In Second-Hand Overalls On A Green Gator

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has never had a knight in shining armor ride in on a white horse to save her. That may be a good thing, since she hasn't needed saving in such a drastic manner. However...

Wednesday evening was trash dumpster day. I pulled that green, unwieldy behemoth up the long driveway to park it beside the address sign. Of course the dogs got all excited and yipped and yapped themselves off to Copper Jack's field to chase rabbits. Juno sat at the end of the fence row, by the road, waiting for them to flush one out. She's an energy-conserving hunter.

As I parked the dumpster, I heard the across-the-road neighbor yelling at her dog. Not maliciously, of course. She's a dog person. Just the way you scold one to shut up, like you mean business. I knew instinctively that she was yelling at her crazy rottweiler mix. We do not like that bob-tailed chicken-killer. But she mainly stays on their property. I think she is kept inside or penned most of the time, having killed other chickens besides ours.

Of course this would have to be the evening that Jack and Copper Jack and Juno decided to act all big and bad. It wasn't their fault, but it was. My dogs are not angels. But mainly, they mind their manners. Even though Jack runs under the neighbor's fence on occasion, and barks at their horses, he generally comes back 8/10 times when I call him.

On this night, I heard Jack and Copper Jack over on Tommy's land, yapping after a rabbit. Juno took off to assist. Within a couple of minutes, their barks changed. Dog people know what I'm talking about. From prey-baying to a menacing tone. All at once, out of the underbrush came a melee of teeth and tails and multicolored fur. The crazy rottweiler was going after Sweet, Sweet Juno! Juno turned tail and ran across the gravel road to our field where I was in the driveway. THEN she heard Jack and Copper Jack telling that crazy rottweiler what for, and turned and ran back into the fight!

I think the crazy rottweiler might have had a moment of clarity, because she turned and darted under her own horse fence. Jack and Copper Jack and Juno pursued her. That's not right. They should respect people boundaries, but in the heat of the battle, they did not. No amount of harsh commands from me could get them to return. I felt bad that my dogs were in the crazy rottweiler's yard. But she started it!

I went back down the driveway and partway across the brick sidewalk to holler at Farmer H over by the goat pen.

"Can you start the Gator and go get those dogs? They won't come back! I can't walk during this mess, and I don't want them over there causing trouble."

"Yeah. I can do that."

Farmer H started up the Gator and drove through the front yard. By now, Juno and Jack had come over, thinking I was done and going to give them a snack. Fat chance! Juno trotted up to me and I took a swat at her with my windy-day hair-holding hat. "Go on! You're in trouble!"

Farmer H hollered for Jack and Juno, and they ran to chase him as he went around the front sinkhole and into the BARn field and down to the creekside cabin. The dogs love to go down there. Copper Jack had disappeared from view, but I could still hear him in the horse field, behind the cedars. Then I heard the crazy rottweiler's human daddy hollering, "GIT! GO ON! GET OUT OF HERE!" I don't blame him. Thank the Gummi Mary my dogs weren't over there. Even though I'm sure the Horse-Fielders heard me yelling for them a few minutes earlier.

Yes, Farmer H saved the day. On my last lap down the driveway, I saw Jack dart through the woods and into the yard. He went on to meet me by the ugly paint-needing picket fence. Copper Jack came running from the horse field. And my Sweet, Sweet Juno trotted to the carport, looking guilty. She has a conscience, that dog.

Jack...not so much.