Got some sunshine this morning, and I figured I’d better put it to use while I could.
Laundry is the sort of chore I would regularly put off until it became a huge pile of suck hanging over my head, if it weren’t for my one little peculiarity. The prosthesis keeps me honest: I absolutely, positively must have clean stump socks every day, or I’ll be lame in a week and have stuff growing down there in two. So I keep up on the laundry.
Ghost generally keeps me company while I’m doing it. He’s no longer a young dog, which means he no longer delights in causing trouble for its own sake. He used to be the fastest – and one of the meanest – thing on four legs and he loved to prove it. Not only a truck-chaser, but a tire-biter. It’s a miracle he lived to get old.
Age doesn’t mean he won’t still defend his territory, of course. Trespassers must be warned off, even if it’s no longer important to destroy them. So he’ll sit in the shade for hours, looking out over his meadow and the wash and watching. Watching.
And while I was still on the first load, he got his chance. He sat up, ears alert. He wuffed. He sniffed. He stood up and started toward the wash. Something?
I finally heard the engines. A second or two later LB caught the sound and erupted barking from under the Lair but by that time Ghost was bounding off toward the wash. ATVs! The enemy! Yay!
ATVs are often touristy strangers, but just as often not. Everybody around here uses the wash as an impromptu road, it’s just sort of accepted and it’s one of the disadvantages of building the Lair down low. In this case I recognized them right away and relaxed. The grandkids of some further neighbors I sort of know; they’re semi-regulars and know the drill, and therefore no danger to the dogs. Once Ghost would have chased and tire-bit and generally made a pain of himself, but nowadays he doesn’t even do that with horses. He just stood off and barked, making sure the interlopers knew whose place this was and that they better keep moving, boy. Better keep moving.
And then he trotted to the water bucket, and back to his tree. Duty done, it’s nap time. Good boy, Ghost.
