I’m in the anomalous position of effusively praising a dog for waking me up and getting me out of bed when there was no outside threat to be warned of.
I mean, c’mon. Technically, waking me out of a sound sleep is what a dog is supposed to do. If a dog can be said to have an actual function, that’s it*. The only times Little Bear wakes me up the threat is dire indeed, but it’s always coming from inside LB himself.
Still, the boys are family and family has rights. LB was a good boy, the state of his bowels isn’t really his fault, and he did the right thing. So – Good boy, LB. Goood boy. Here’s a treat.
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*Not to overthink this, but in terms of my relations with the local predators the boys probably fulfill their principal function just by being here and making the place smell and sound like “dog – stay away.” I have very little problem with coyotes, at any rate, and those chickens have to sound like a day-and-night dinner bell.
+1 on the Paul Simon reference. Bellyrubs to LB and Ghost…