Saturday, December 20, 2008
I call my dogs many things. Every once in awhile I call them useful. Don't get me wrong, I love them to death - they are my friends, companions, entertainment, and I wouldn't be without them. But they also have their own agenda. They are sometimes known (not very affectionately) as the destroyers. When in this mode, their motto is: "Is it cute, soft, gentle, or helpless? Then it must die." Really. I won't go into details, but it isn't pretty. Anyway, today is one of those days that I call them useful. Sitting at my desk, I noticed a commotion at the pasture fence. Looking to see what was going on, I saw chickens running, dogs jumping at the fence, and a red tailed hawk was lifting off, just out of their reach! Good dogs. Apparently the hawk thought he'd have a nice chicken dinner but was interrupted by the dogs who probably objected to him trying to steal what they consider theirs. They're funny that way. Quick to defend their property and it's residents against all intruders. Good dogs. Useful dogs.