DEFCON-1 – Day of the Dog!

They attacked at first light. They took us by surprise, caught us napping with our trousers down.

I knew something was wrong when we left the back door and I saw Tubbs sitting on the fence. He was out of reach but I ran at him anyway. It gave him a fright and he turned and ran away almost involuntarily. Scaredy cat!

Brian had massed his weasels in the branches and they flew at us from the trees. Two fell on Rob and gnawed at his jacket. He yelped in surprise but brushed them off and they ran away.

Barbara heard the noise and rushed outside. Some rats ran along the side of the fence towards her. She screamed, ran inside and slammed the door.

Brian was sitting high in the tree directing the attack. Squirrels ran across the branches, dithering and keeping out of it as usual.

I looked for reinforcements but there were none. Where were the sheep? There’s never a sheep around when you want one!

The back door flew open and Barbara rushed out with a brush, sweeping at the rats which scattered under the fence.

More weasels flew from the trees. Rob ran to the shed, wrestled the door open and grabbed the first thing to hand – a length of hose. He looked disappointed, as if he had hoped for a shovel but he ran out flailing at the branches like a dervish wielding an octopus. The weasels scattered.

Brian hissed at me from the tall branches, his forces spent. He looked me in the eye and flung himself at my neck. I jumped to one side and he landed on my back. He dug in with his claws and started to bite with his chisel teeth. I spun around in a circle to shake him off but he clung on. Barbara swung at him with the broom but caught my flank and knocked me sideways. Rob tried to loop the hose around him. No chance.

I couldn’t reach him with my teeth so I ran under a low branch to scrape him off. He clung on, biting deeper. I ran alongside the fence with my back to it to try to dislodge him but he had a firm grip.

Then I had a brainwave and rolled on the ground, I heard him gasp as I squashed the air out him and he released his grip. He started to retreat but I turned and managed to nip him before he made his escape, winded and wounded, through the fence.

“Well,” said Rob. “We saw them off! Good job we were here to look after you, Murphy.”

I stood panting on the lawn and Barbara ran over to see what damage had been done. I had some flesh wounds but nothing serious. I lay down and nibbled treats as she bathed them.

They took me to see the vet who stabbed me in the neck and said I was fine. Yeah, right!

Rob’s talking about putting a sign in the garden saying “No weasels”. Hmm… But I don’t think we’ll be troubled by Brian again for a long time.

Meanwhile, we’re going to the field hospital for R&R and treats…

DEFCON-2 – It’s an ill wind...

Even the elements are playing into his claws! The wind broke a branch on the tree so it leans towards the house. It’s an ideal launch point for a weasel wanting to attack anyone leaving the back door.

I try to draw Rob’s attention to it by barking and looking up.

He thinks I’m barking at a squirrel and pats me on the head. He hasn’t noticed the danger.

It’ll end in tears…

DEFCON-3 Day 3 - En Garde

I'm in the doghouse.

Rob hasn’t spoken to me for two days but Barbara gave me treats when he wasn’t looking. She understands the importance of food, setting traps and being alert. I’ve been on guard duty all day, keeping watch and presenting a visible presence on the lawn. Just let Brian and his hoards try to get past me in the open.

I know an attack is imminent. I need to recruit sympathisers and work on another plan.

And I need to rethink a strategy that doesn’t involve digging up Rob’s lawn…

DEFCON-3 Day 2 – Sabotage!

We’ve been sabotaged – and by an own goal!

Rob filled in my trap!!!

He shouted at me. He was not happy. I think I’m off the team.

I don’t understand. Defeat lies just over the hill. Maybe he has a master plan that he’s keeping secret. Maybe this is for the benefit of Tubbs. The walls have ears.

Or – and I freeze at the thought - maybe he has no concept of tactics…

DEFCON-3

Brian is plotting. I can smell it. He has ears everywhere. He’s probably rounding up his weasel collaborators for a massed attack. He’ll try to enlist Tubbs the Tabby; nasty spitting, scratchy thing. I need to review my forces.

Decided to build defences and make some traps of my own. Dug a hole in the lawn just beyond the back door and pushed two plant pots to either side of it.

I’m on alert.

DEFCON-4 Day 2

No sign of Brian today.

But he’s out there.

Scheming and plotting…

DEFCON-4

Brian has been skulking about, probably setting traps for when we leave the back door or waiting to dive on us from the trees. I can smell a Long-Snouted Tooth Chiseller a mile off! He made himself scarce when we went out but his traps could be anywhere.

Rob was oblivious to the danger. He doesn’t even sniff behind the plant pots or the bushes, or look behind the garden seat and he never looks up at the trees. Danger lurks everywhere. But I’m on hand to protect him and the house.

No one is safe.

Sheep May Safely Graze...

It’s odd how two seemingly-unrelated events can come together to create one of those ear-scratching moments when you wonder: is this really my dinner I’m eating or is it Charlie’s breakfast? I hope you’re still with me here…

I know Rob and Barbara wear clothes because their skin isn’t as weatherproof as mine (I’m sure they shave it off occasionally for reasons which defy my logic). Barbara wears jumpers made from the wool of my friends the sheep.

I say ‘my friends’ when, in truth, I never speak to them. They’re so dumb I doubt they could hold a conversation of more than three words. I love to rush up to them and bark and watch them scatter. Oh, little things…

So yesterday Barbara was washing some clothes (why she can’t stand under a shower and shake dry I don’t know) and she was complaining to Rob that her jumper, made of wool, had shrunk, although what it had to do with Rob I don’t know. Maybe he was supposed to be on shrink duty or something.

We went out for our walk today. It was raining, I saw the sheep and I thought: if they’re made of wool like Barbara’s jumper, why don’t they shrink when they get wet? I sat and scratched my ear.

That question will haunt me for ages…

Male Order

Rob’s been reading a book about dog training. He’s decided he wants to be Alpha Dog. Wonder what Barbara will think of that.

He makes me sit and stay before we go out because he wants to be the first through the door. I guess if he wants to check that the Long-Snouted Chisel-Toothed Weasel – who’s called Brian - isn’t lying in wait for us, that’s fine, but I’m not sure he has the mandibular equipment to mount a counter-attack. I guess I’ll have to rescue him.

And he’s started to eat some of my dinner before he gives it to me. He puts his head in the bowl and makes munching noises. I’ve never seen him eat like that before. Or make noises like that when he’s eating his own food. If he’s so hungry he can have as much of my dinner as he wants. I’m going to try to bring him something tasty next time we’re out. There are always small animals lying around in the undergrowth if you know where to look.

I hope he’s okay.

I’m Positive

Rob has been reading a book about the Power of Positive Thinking. He told Barbara it will help him become more focussed, more directed, and make his life more positive and productive.

An excellent idea! I decided to try it. Dogs are already well focussed – once we get involved in an activity we stick with it!

I began by concentrating on one of my favourite things – food. I think about dinner a lot, usually around dinner time, and I discovered that if I think about it hard enough, Rob or Barbara turns up and makes my dinner. Wonderful - it really works!

Thank you Anthony...

Asking or Begging...

I don’t ask for much.

Two squares a day, a few treats, maybe some steak or chicken leftovers, hamburger scraps, crumbs of bread, cakes, biscuits, cheese – oh yes, cheese cheese cheese! – apple cores, grapes, plums, whatever you let fall on the floor. Some toys to chew, bones are great but ones that smell of chocolate are good, too, and bones, and rubber rings to pull and shake; did I mention bones? A bowl of fresh water; water out of rain tubs, plant pots, and puddles is tasty, too. A couple of walks a day, maybe more at weekends, long ones, to places familiar and strange; strange is exciting, but it’s nice to be on home territory and read the newspapers, to roam and sniff, and chase smells and small furry animals; to run in streams and rivers and the sea, to dig holes in the ground to see what’s there, to chew sticks and twigs; to meet fellow dogs to play with, to run and chase, and run and be chased. To be stroked and have my ears rubbed and my tummy scratched; to be brushed a couple of times a week but, gently. To be allowed to protect the house and bark at people walking down the street, and to say hello to other dogs. To have somewhere warm to lie, in front of the fire on a cold day, on a bed if no one’s in it (or even if they are, I can squeeze onto a corner so’s you’d never notice I was there), a spare chair or sofa, under a table is good, too. But most of all, to be with Rob and Barbara wherever they are, wherever they go and whatever they do.

That’s not asking too much, is it…?