After my efforts being thwarted at every turn on Monday, my magical elixir seemed extra-delicious when I took a trial sip before putting the lid on it. I headed
back to the Mansion, to carry in my groceries. That's the rough part,
with Farmer H being gone. I left some in T-Hoe's rear for another time.
Like the Tide and Charmin and Puffs and soda. I had all my groceries
piled on the metal chair on the side porch. I was extra careful,
carrying my bag with deli fried chicken last, and putting other bags on
top of it. All I had to do was snatch my purse and elixir from T-Hoe,
and walk up the steps and unlock the kitchen door.
Juno
and Jack were prancing around. I'd given them a little cat kibble
before putting any groceries on the chair. Copper Jack hung back by the
front of the carport, on the brick sidewalk. My dogs never bother my
stuff. Copper Jack gradually creeps closer, up the steps, and peers
around the corner of the house, over Juno's dog house, waiting for me to
toss treats once I've moved everything inside. The dogs know I always carry in the groceries before
treats.
I set down my purse and elixir after the unlocking, and started for my grocery bags.
COPPER JACK STOOD WITH HIS NOSE AGAINST MY CHICKEN BAG!
Well! That is simply not acceptable. I yelled at him.
"Get out of here! GIT! Get away from that chicken!"
I'm
sure he understood, don't you think? He tucked his tail and scurried
back down the steps, towards the brick sidewalk. My little Jack, spurred
on by my vitriol, took after Copper Jack like a Tasmanian Devil! He
growled and barked and jumped at Copper Jack's snout, biting with his
tiny mouth. Copper Jack took his chastisement well. He rarely fights
back with my little Jack. They're buddies. But not when Mrs. HM is
displeased with him!
I called Jack back to me, and
praised him. Because, you know, I appreciate a dog who will defend me,
even if he's 8 inches tall, with a tiny mouth.
No
damage was done to the chicken or Copper Jack. I got the groceries in,
and picked up some old biscuits for a treat. Copper Jack had wandered
back to his treat-waiting position. He and Jack got biscuits, and Juno
got an added pork steak bone handed directly to her mouth, inside her
house. There was only one, and I figured she should be rewarded for
staying out of the drama. What the other two didn't know didn't hurt
them.
I guess I'd grown complacent, not having problems
with Copper Jack before. I'm always wary when he's around, but I'd have
carried that bag in with my purse if I had an inkling of his
imminent uncharacteristic shenanigans.
3 comments:
We have a foster dog in our midst right now, and he's a brazen one. Today, after I left for work and before my PITA woke up and headed to work, the FD got 5 bags of peanuts off the top of the table and ate them, he scattered the bathroom trash all over the floor, he tore up some newspaper... and then peed on it.
He's some little spaniel mix from South Korea--rescued from the meat market. If he continues with shenanigans like this, we might start our own little sausage shop...
I can't fault Copper Jack, the aroma of fried chicken is enough to make any dog get closer. At least he didn't just tear right into the bag, and left when you told him to.
Sioux,
An old work buddy from the unemployment office had Yorkies. One of them found a way up on the table while she was getting ready for work, and took her sandwich out of her purse. Ate it and left the baggie.
My only spaniel experience was two former roommates' cocker spaniels. They were nutty as fruitcakes. Maybe your spaniel was doing what spaniels do in South Korea. At least he peed on the newspaper...
***
River,
I do give them the bones from such chicken. Maybe he thought it was his treat. He still knows I'm the boss.
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