Doggy telepathy ineffective
Dorothy HarrisWe should have believed her. She tried to tell us many times in what we affectionately refer to as the dingo stare down.
Published: December 6, 2012
Published: December 6, 2012
The brown dog comes up, places her foot on your leg and looks deeply into your eyes. As she stares intently at you, you can't help but wonder if she is attempting to reach you through telepathy. I imagine it would go something like this. "I realize you are just human, and so I'm not expecting you to understand all I'm trying to say, but clearly there is something living under the deck and I am displeased about this. Get the man we call Daddy to investigate further, would you?"
This went on for several weeks. Eventually she gave up trying to reach us through doggy telepathy and resorted to charades. She would sniff around, stop suddenly and after making sure we were watching, she would make digging motions on the deck. There was frustration in her big, brown eyes.
"Look here," she seemed to say. "I'm keeping this as simple as possible. One word, sounds like cat, which we have too many of, by the way. Right here, under this board, hence the digging motions. Are you people getting this?"
Clearly we weren't, but she kept trying. She'd continually jump into the air to pounce on something we couldn't see. "Is it a rat, Sadie," I asked one night. If the dingo could talk, I suspect a bit of sarcasm might have been heard. "Ah yes, mother, a rat. You are clearly quite astute. Glad you've finally put it all together. By the way, are these cats good for anything, or must I handle the varmint on my own?" Well, she finally got some help for the critter problem.
As Mr. Harris began pulling out the outdoor Christmas decorations from the shed, the dingo finally got confirmation of her investigative searching. "There's a rat in the shed," Mr. Harris informed me as he tossed things into the yard. "That must be what Sadie's been going crazy over," I replied. I swear the dog rolled her eyes at me. "Thank you Sadie," I replied out loud. Just then, the mouse made its move.
Imagine if you will, two women screaming, not because we're scared, but just because it's kind of fun to scream sometimes. Meanwhile, Mr. Harris was attempting to get out of the way of a crazed dingo and several slightly interested cats. The dog was going crazy attempting to climb into the shed while the rat was scrambling to get anywhere but where she was.
It took off through the yard, with us hollering, and of course, slipped under the deck. "Oh there's that thing again," one cat seemed to say, as it sunned itself on the fire pit rocks. "Y'all should do something about that," another yawned, peering down from the gazebo roof to investigate the commotion.
Mr. Harris kept tossing stuff out. Sadie began sniffing through all the boxes and piles, clearly still very interested in what might be remaining within. I picked up a couple of bird houses and made the discovery. The rats had moved in and made their nest in the bird house. Even more surprising, a large mouse or rat still resided inside, clearly determined to remain indoors if at all possible. Then it jumped out and took off.
No worries though. We've got a seriously focused dingo and a handful of lazy cats hanging around. I don't think the rats will be back, unless they really need a little excitement.