Farmer H overslept on Friday morning. I had to wake him around 5:40, when he's usually up and ready by 5:15. He didn't sit to chat, just put out water for the dogs, grabbed his banana and Diet Mountain Dew, and picked up the bag of trash I had ready, before going out to feed the dogs and leave for his SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2).
I went about my day as usual. Watched some game show reruns on TV, like People Puzzler, Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and Deal or No Deal. Checked out the innernets for an hour or so. Got ready to leave for town by 3:00.
When I tossed out my banana peel, my little Jack ran around to the kitchen door, barking and glad to see me. I waited to be assaulted by Scarlett, but she was missing. Even when I got to the side porch with two treats. Of course Jack was willing to eat Scarlett's treat as well as his own.
I hobbled down the steps, stopped to pat Jack, wondering aloud where Scarlett might be. That's when I heard something at the garage door. A light tapping. Something tap-tap-tapping at the people door. When I opened it, SCARLETT RAN OUT!
What in the Not-Heaven? Scarlett does not have opposable thumbs. She cannot let herself into the garage. She is not a big dog, but too large to fit through the little flap door we had for the cats. Besides, Farmer H has locked that flap door, to keep out possums. I can only surmise that
FARMER H SHUT SCARLETT IN THE GARAGE AT 6:00 A.M.!!!
I sent him a text accusing him of such.
"I guess you left Scarlett in the garage for 9 hours."
"I don't watch for her. So I must of."
Not even an apology! Farmer H opens the people door and scoops the dog food to put in the dog bowls. Then he puts the scoop back and screws the top onto the big bucket he keeps the food in. So I suppose hyper Scarlett ran in while he was closing up the dog food, and he turned and shut the door with her inside the garage.
Scarlett was not yipping like my Dear Departed Juno did when she was closed up in the garage after her very special operation. Or like when Farmer H would shut her up in the BARn all day, and only find her when I said she was missing. Nope. Scarlett just ran out and smiled at me from the side porch. A little less bouncy than usual. Perhaps thinking that I had punished her. But as Farmer H said later,
"Well. She's used to being shut up all day, from when she was in that crate."
She didn't even poop or pee in the garage!
When Farmer H got home around 5:15, he gave her another bowl of food. Said she started eating it. Of course Scarlett did not hold a grudge. She ADORES Farmer H. She stood on the porch, head tilted, while I was talking to him in the kitchen. When Farmer H went out on the porch to pee over the side, Scarlett was right there to keep him company, stars in her eyes.
I believe the term is "Stockholm Syndrome..."
4 comments:
Oh poor Scarlett! I hope Farmer H is more careful to check from now on. I wonder if the stars in her eyes are because he rescued her from the caged existence and brought her to Hillbilly Heaven?
River,
Scarlett seems to be very people-centered. Like she was never around other dogs, and makes attachments to one person. Since Farmer H was her main caregiver when we took her in, she ADORES him! After all, he's the one who fed her and tracked her down every time she ran off. So they have a bond. She is cordial enough to me, but her attachment is to Farmer H.
She is a one person dog. Cujo was very much a one person dog and I was his person. He tolerated HeWho and very few others. He was a biter. I miss his little gray haired face in the morning. Charming Eddie prefers me, but not to the exception of others. Toni Louise is HeWho's girl. She is currently the oldest dog we have and I am willing to bet that when we lose her, there will be an old man at the shelter looking at strays for another one like her.
Kathy,
At least Scarlett is not a biter. A scratcher, yes, and an intruding food-stealer! But she is polite, and doesn't even nip when getting a hand-fed treat. My Dear Departed Juno had to get her treat on a convex palm, or fingers were in danger. Scarlett HAS filled a hole left by Juno. Even though it's not my particular hole, heh, heh.
I'm a little worried about my little Jack getting older. He's 7 now, and this month he has stopped jumping off the back of the carport to chase squirrels with Copper Jack and Scarlett. Maybe he's just realizing that they never catch one. At least it's better for his long back not to absorb that force. It's about a 4-foot drop onto sloping grass.
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