Yesterday I made fun of people frightened by Chihuahuas. And while I don’t retract that, I must give at least half a hand-clap to the fiercely protective territoriality of the mighty Pomeranian.
My neighbors and most regular employers J&H have a black and white longhaired Pom named Skeeter – that’s not him – and we’re buds from way back. Every time I come over and he can convince Mom and Dad to release him from the safety of his fenced yard, he comes skittering over without fail to get his ears scratched. Skeeter and I get along fine.
But let it be known that he knows a threat to his sovereignty when he sees one. All this past winter, since it never gets too hot in the Jeep Ghost and LB have been coming with me to shit-shoveling. Ghost just curls up in the shotgun seat and snoozes, but LB takes a more active interest. Skeeter, being aware of this, never fails to hustle his diminutive self right over to the Jeep and let that monster know he’d better stay safely inside or…or…well, we don’t know what he proposes to do about it, but he assures us it will be cataclysmic. Oh, he growls and barks and scratches the gravel as if he was a whole foot tall.
This has been going on for over a year, and LB has yet to seem impressed. He has actually been known to yawn. He is aware, as Skeeter is not, that he cheerfully eats creatures bigger than Skeeter fur and all.
