Farmer H's habit is growing out of control! This week, I stepped out onto the porch and found more fake dogs. I don't know why we need fake dogs. We already have three real dogs, plus a real almost-dog who thinks he lives here.
Farmer H's dog-collecting started way back when Genius was a young 'un. He found a fake black dog in a lying-down pose, which looked like our half-beagle/half-chocolate-lab dog Grizzly. Farmer H put it in his rock garden by the front porch. To hear Farmer H tell it, he helped potty-train young Genius by taking him out on the porch and telling him to "pee on the fake Grizzly." I beg to differ. Young Genius never liked to pee outside. EVER. He was persnickety like that.
Anyhoo...a couple years ago, Farmer H brought home a beagle-looking fake dog, I think. It's laying outside the front door, by those hideous Indian statues standing sentry. Just last month, Farmer H was complaining that Jack had chewed the nose off that fake dog. Indeed, Jack did! Jack is a chewer.
Anyhoo...here are our newest fake pets, on the side porch.
Looks like an Irish Setter to me. Not a very good replica. Not scaled to size. Kind of worn. I bear it no ill will, but there is no reason to have this fake dog on my side porch.
At least this Scottie dog has expressive fake eyes, and is about the right size for a Scottie dog. It spooks Juno. That's where she stands to get her handful of cat kibble. She shies away from Scottie, then wants her kibble, and hops awkwardly over it, bumping it and getting spooked away again.
I think Farmer H needs to build a themed shed for his fake dogs. He can call it The Hillmomban Kennel Club.
2 comments:
Your, sorry, Farmer H's 'Irish setter' is a spaniel, similar looks, much smaller dog. I agree a new themed shed for the fake dogs is a great idea, or at least move that terrier away from Juno's kibbles and treats area.
River,
Even as a spaniel, I'm not impressed with the likeness. I guess Farmer H arranges them where he thinks I will see them, and compliment him on his purchases.
It's got to be creepy for the dogs to first notice them. Like if I was walking through the Mansion, and saw life-size fake people had been left there overnight.
Juno was not so traumatized today. She was distracted by the scrap of squirrel pelt she carried to her kibble station. Set it down beside her, ate quickly, then snatched it up and ran back to her house with it, lest Jack take possession. Random clumps of fur on the back porch seem to confirm that after all the barking and galloping around the porch, the dogs finally caught a dog food predator. A case of non-survival of the non-fittest.
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