In the trenches

To whom it may concern,

Send reinforcements. We've dug in here but the natives are relentless. May be forced to retreat.

Yours truly,

RTC.

Between jobs

So one of the housemates, the one with the longer legs, has been staying home a lot lately. Something about being between jobs. He has a lot of time on his paws. We walk longer in the morning. I like that. Then he added a second even longer walk in the late afternoon. I liked it a lot. At first. Then they got longer. And they come rain or shine. And it's all business. I can hardly get a sniff in edgewise.

Meanwhile, The natives are staking out their territory. Mine is unguarded during peak territory grabbing hours. I can't really tell him that I have work to do. Sort of sounds a little insensitive. So we walk. And walk. Did I mention I'm nine years old? Not a pup. I was feeling it in my hips.

Today, good news. Long legs won't be between jobs much longer. Come May 10, I'm back full time on yard patrol. May 10. That's a long way away. My hips can tell you that...

Mission Accomplished

Saw native. Pursued. Leaped. Cleared. Even easier than I thought. House mates not happy. Native eluded me, but knows not to wave his tail and give me the raspberries again.

Spring fever

Really, now. How is a guy supposed to get any work done around here? It's finally spring and I've finally got some footing to chase down the natives and the house mates put this fence up. Something about protecting what's left of the grass. I have news for the house mates: winter pretty much put a nail in the lawn's coffin. I've been able to clear the fence in the past, but this year one of the house mates stacked one fence on top of the other. So here I sit, listening to the native squirrels taunt me...



..oh well, from the looks of the construction job I think I only have to wait until the first good storm comes along. Then, it's roasted squirrel legs all around....

Life in the trenches

It's been a while. Last time I checked in it was 85 degrees in October. Two months later it's snow that's shoulder high on a Great Dane. Stayed that way ever since. So I've been spending all my time running the trenches. Round and round, up and down. The natives think I'm just playing games. I'm not. As soon as they come down here, they'll find that out. Here's what I've been up to. Over and over. Round and round. Up and down.....

Squirrel math

+




=

Someday....

...that low-down squirrel who clipped my nose with a hedge trimmer has to come back down out of that tree. And I'll be waiting for him. Or, ahem, her...

...Bell Tolls, II

Like I said, I have an explanation. The summer was hot. Other varmints popped up. A chipmunk turned the front garden into his own 18 hole golf course. (Not my fault! I'm barred from going in the garden. How can I defend territory I can't patrol??!??!)
One day, though, the border collie toddles over and says, "You notice anything strange about the ash tree in the backyard?"



Well, I headed back there are circled the tree a couple of times. I gave it a power sniff up and down the fat stem. Nothing. The border collie, I was beginning to realize, was just having one of his crazy old dog episodes. Clean as a whistle, I snorted when I got back in the house. The border collie looked up from his Real Simple magazine, pushed his reader glasses up his nose, and said, "Just stand back there and listen, MacGyver."

I sighed, trudged back out to the yard and cocked an ear. I heard scurrying. More than usual. Muffled conversation. A radio playing Top 40 music very very softly. It was all coming from overhead. What the???!??! I panned my gaze up the fat stem, real slow, like Peckenpaugh. And. There. It. Was.



A nest.

Filled with squirrels.

On my turf.



Which has something to do with how I got this. Which is a story for next time.

For Whom the Bell Tolls...

OK, I was distracted for much of the summer by those rabbits.
Then there was the occasional cat. Chipmunks started scurrying about.
That explains why I missed it. That explains how it suddenly appeared, right here, on my turf.
A massive, crowded, bustling.....
(To be continued...)

Something, or someone, is digging up the front garden. I'm getting heat for it. So serious is this situation that I've had to do the unthinkable...



...I've hired a local expert who thinks he has a pretty good idea who the culprit is. The border collie can't stop laughing.

A whole new distraction

It's been a while since my last post. Too much going on. A mad boxer to the north and yet another new nemesis: rabbits and chipmunks. But that's nothing. These days, there's competition on the yard security front. A very arrogant competitor and an arch enemy. I spend a lot of time keep this nemesis under surveillence...



...and, I'm annoyed to report, vice versa....

Rough start

It's not going well with the new neighbor. She jumped us. Yes, she. And, yes, she jumped us on Day One.
Oh, there was a fence in the way, but she made her intentions very clear. We were returning from surveillance in the park when this flash of brown fur and white teeth headed our direction. "Whoa!" yelled Boscoe, "It's Cujo in a dress!"
She's a tall drink of water, that's for sure. She probably should be wearing a saddle.
We responded with our best mad dog imitations, barking and snarling and bouncing around like a hyena on Red Bull. We may not have been as impressive as I'd hoped: I heard the natives snickering from their nests.

Anyway, no welcome wagon for this new neighbor. Instead, we've ordered a few things from the Sears catalogue: an electric fence, with the optional Christmas lights; and a speed bag. I admit I'm a little out of shape. Tomorrow, a glass of raw eggs and some road work...

New neighbor coming

Not that anybody would tell me directly -- I'm just supposed to stumble across this one day, I guess -- but we have new neighbors coming next week. The house next door has been empty for a while. The backyard has become popular with the natives and their various floppy eared guests.
All that ends next week. The border collie sneaked a peak at the housemate email and learned that the new inhabitants will include a boxer.
No, not that kind of boxer.



This kind of boxer. Well, needless to say this doesn't make me very happy. I've heard all about how pushy those self-important boxers can be. Swaggering around like they own the place... My fur is up... Bring it!

Tough one

So, one of the housemates spends a surprising amount of time following a football team that doesn't win many games. We just sort of keep our distance. He posts a flag in the back 40 every Saturday and glumly retrieves it the next day, mumbling something about how he needs a better hobby.


The South Dakota State Jackrabbit

Saturday, the game was more distracting for me than usual. I couldn't get the mascots out of my mind.... I'm not sure why....


The Minnesota Gopher

...the whole thing made me very hungry....

Aftermath

After a rowdy Sunday, it was very quiet around here Monday. Too quiet. The border collie suggested the natives were exhausted from their winter prep. I wasn't convinced. I took a stroll around the front 40 and found this guy, clueless to the world, mumbling something about somebody named Favre. Turns out the natives are rabid Packer fans. That shouldn't come as much of a surprise. The border collie and me, we're neutral. Been that way since that trip to the vet when we were puppies...

8

Wow. I feel this one. I'm 8 this week. We don't know actually what day. All I remember is a pair of speckled legs. Didn't get a lot of time with my momma dog or my brothers and sisters. I had a tough start. It's better now, but I still get blue now and then. On top of that, it's gray and rainy. The border collie pretended not to know what was up, but he's been busy...



...this morning I found this cake under the kitchen table. We're keeping it quiet until the house mates leave. The border collie's on a restricted diet. Maybe I'll leave a couple pieces for the natives. You gotta stick together when it's gray and rainy.

How cold is it?

Something happened way up in the sky and it got cold. And it snowed. The snow is sticking around.



It's very early for all this. The border collie spotted splotches in the yard and dispatched me to investigate. I thought they were socks, but turns out to be dozens of miniature snowmobile suits. Must be the natives. Unlike the geese and ducks who taunt us on their way south, the natives are stuck here with us all winter. At least someone is prepared...

The World According to Hal

This is all I knew about coyotes when I got the call from Hal, who offered up some expert advice on dealing with our latest nemesis -- moles. Little did I know there was more to the coyote than a series of unfortunate mishaps...

Hal met us at the bus -- yes, a Greyhound bus. The border collie brought a satchel of Economist magazines and jars of salted almonds. "You guys are the muscle; I'm the looks. And the brains." Hal shrugged him off and took me out in the field.


Well, I'll spare you the details. Not pretty. There was snarling and screaming and blood and knock knock jokes. I could stomach the blood, but not the knock knock jokes. Anyway, after taking in all of Hal's useful insights and tips, I realized his aggressive approach wasn't for us. Too messy.
So....We've deviced to take the advice of our Canadian friends and try some chewing gum. Only we're going for bubble gum. We're thinking the moles will get carried away, blow bubbles and trap themselves out of sight. That's as good as out of mind. We'd rather everybody go their separate ways.
Call us softies.

Hal had a different word.
I won't repeat it here.

Junket

Well, it took a few days and a lot of -- er -- trial and error, but we think we've finished our mission as far as those mole holes go. I haven't seen any mass exodus or anything, but the border collie advises it takes a few days. Seems to me somebody tosses their business through your front window you're up and out in a hurry, but what do I know?
In any event, we got an email from a distant relative inviting us up north for a few days to talk about other ways to handle the problem...




...this is Hal. And he has some definite ideas on a Plan B. If nothing else, we'll bone up on our howling. We'll be out of pocket for a while...

Mole in one

If we look a little stressed, we have good reason. Since the moles showed up -- yes, there's more than one -- we've been scrambling to research ways to see them on their way. The border collie has been surfing the IntraWeb -- you can tell he's surfing when he has that white stuff on his nose. Anyway, he's found some options but they've all got drawbacks...

You can buy smokebombs that you light and stuff down the holes. The border collie thinks the housmates wouldn't like bombs going off in the yard. I think it would look like a Rolling Stones concert. Jot it on the grocery list and we're on our way... But I was overrruled...

Another site recommends stuffing dryer sheets down the holes. Apparently, moles like their clothes wrinkled. The border collie says he thinks they don't like the smell. We think getting our paws on dryer sheets is too difficult. Tough enough around here making off with a cookie.
Some of the more radical sites suggest a touch of gasoline. Again, something about the smell. Seems like we may get rid of the moles and everything else on the property if things went wrong.

That leaves us with a fourth option that is more practical but very challenging. It has us up all hours practicing...



Turns out that another effective remedy for moles is something we have a lot of -- how do you put it? Oh yes, dog droppings. Depositing a few choice nuggets in one of their holes is an effective way to invite the moles to move on. No lugging dryer sheets, smokebombs or gas cans across the lawn.

But there's the challenge of accuracy. We have little experience in precision pooping. Close enough has been, well, good enough for us. That's why we're heading over to Como Golf Course this morning for an 18-hole practice round.

Fore!