Sunday, April 16, 2023

24 Hours Around The Mansion

Friday night, my little Jack was restless. He was barking on the front porch at 12:30 a.m. Barking. Barking. In kind of a frenzy, though not his STRANGER bark. He kept going down the porch steps and onto the brick sidewalk, or under the dirty-white picket fence and into the front yard. On and off went the solar motion lights Farmer H has planted along the front sidewalk.

I opened the front door to take a look, and caught Jack sitting at the top of the steps. He wriggled his way over to the door, front paws in, asking permission to enter. Nope. That's not allowed, per the decree of Farmer H. I bent down to pet Jack. Talked calmly to him. And saw Copper Jack skulking around in the side yard between the Mansion and the Shackytown Boulevard area.

"Jack. It's okay. I don't know why you bark at that dog. He's your buddy! He's here ALL DAY LONG. But at night you want to pretend he's a threat to us. It's okay. Calm down. I'm not mad. You're a good dog. My good boy."

Of course Jack only heard "Jack." And maybe "good dog."

He backed up as I closed the door. And was quiet. I don't want to get in the habit of petting him when he barks. That's the wrong message. But I guess he was just stressed, feeling like the whole job of guarding the Mansion now rests upon his low freckled shoulders.

Saturday evening, around 6:00, a big storm rolled through. I was not expecting it. I'd only seen a forecast for a chance of rain overnight. Farmer H was gone over to Outer Sis-Town for the annual credit union dinner. 

The sky turned black as night, where usually it's light until after 8:00 p.m. The wind was whipping the trees in a leaf-stripping circular motion. Rain started to pelt the metal roof of the Mansion. I went to check on the weather on the city TV stations. The satellite went off. Then my internet went off. The Pony sent me a text:

"Tornado sirens going off here in town."

I gave him my weather situation.

"Rain only really hit here 20 minutes ago. Sirens just stopped. Not that dark here. Still a bit of thunder and lightning, but rain isn't even all that heavy right now. Just to the point it gets tough to deliver in."

"Go to your hall bathroom if you need to. Or to the hall by your laundry room."

"Sirens going off again now. Keeping an eye out the window, ready to move if I need to. Rain looks to have mostly stopped. App gives about 20 minutes for the warnings to be past."

When I informed Farmer H, he replied: "Thunder here."

When Farmer H got home at 8:00, it was full dark, but the wind had stopped. Just a little rain. Farmer H said he never knew about the wind or the warnings.

Farmer H also reported that when he came in the kitchen door, little Jack was in Juno's house. Good. He's safe there. I hope he makes a habit of it.

4 comments:

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Maybe little Jack is missing his big sister? When Cujo died so unexpectedly, Bo was confused and sad, Toni Louise didn't seem to notice and Eddie was very sad and wanted me in sight constantly.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Kathy,
That's what Farmer H says. I agree. They used to gang up on Copper Jack when I came up the driveway, barking their fool heads off and pushing him back. He's a good-natured dog, four times the size of my little Jack, and was a little bigger than Juno. But he only does enough to defend himself, never hurts little Jack, who is wont to latch onto Copper Jack's snout with his tiny mouthful of teeth.

Something else little Jack has done lately is lay down and roll over on his back after I pet him in the garage. Like he is showing me I'M the boss now. He definitely deferred to Juno when she was here.

River said...

I agree that Jack is missing Juno and wonder if that is why Copper Jack was hanging around, looking for Juno perhaps?

Hillbilly Mom said...

River,
Copper Jack likes to think he lives here. He's always skulking around. When Juno was here, he would kind of tiptoe past her house to get to the water bowl on the back porch by the laundry room. Otherwise Copper Jack pretty much ignored Juno, and stayed out of her way, preferring to buddy-up with Jack for play-fighting and running rabbits and squirrels.

Usually Jack doesn't mind him as much, except when I'm around. Maybe me sitting up most of the night in the living room makes Jack think he needs to protect me, with just a metal door in between me and him on the front porch. In the warm weather, Jack lays right in front of the front door at night.