I’ve taken to patrolling the house and barking at things. I take this job very seriously; Homeland Security, that is.
Today I saved Mom from a huge flying insect that somehow, despite the cooler temperatures, flew into the house and settled on the bottom pane of the middle dining room window. Hackles raised, I barked and barked til Mom came and killed it. When she went for a tissue to pick it up, I had already eaten it. Burp!
Other Homeland Security instances:
*Lying on the bed with Mom, getting a pre-sleep belly rub. Dad emerges from the bathroom and I set up a frenzy of barking at his silhouette in the doorway. Have to protect Mom at all costs!
*Neighbor getting out of car. Woof, woof, woof!
*Leaf blowing across the lawn. (snort through nostrils) Huff! Woof!
Probably my prime moment, though, was when Mom went to the store and I was in charge of watching Jamie. I jumped up to the dining room table (yes, I stood on it with all four paws) and barked at shadows from the streetlights. (Now, with a tip o’ the hat to Weggieboy’s Persians…imagine cats on the table. Then imagine a 55-lb. Pitbull.)
Jamie honestly didn’t know what to do; laugh, call Mom, shoo me off the table and risk further scratches, or put me in the crate, so when he said, “Crate” I started barking at him.
Yes, sirree, this Homeland Security is a big job and I always have to be on high alert.
But now, I think I’ll take a nap in my favorite chair.
Woof! Love, Maggie
(Can I sniff your Security Clearance?)