When I go down the front porch steps to the brick walkway, I can see down the highway at my neighbor’s homes and take note of anything that moves or lurks about. Lying in the shade, I do have it made … except the hideous blue conveyance parked in the driveway makes me very nervous. All my life, I have been dragged kicking and screaming, barking and howling, into one of those things and taken to a veterinarian who pokes, prods, sticks and inserts probes down my throat or up my … well, you get the idea. Fortunately, I haven’t had to go to the doctor lately and the Old Guy gave up making a “Car Dog” out of me after two ride around test trips. He had become terrified that anyone within earshot would think he was pulling my legs off or some other form of horrible physical abuse.
Sometimes in the late afternoon the intruders appear in the pasture across the highway. I give them down the road mean barking from the top of my front porch. At the same time, the Old Guy Moooooos at them repeatedly, but my warnings seemed to stop them in their tracks. On this day, the large beasts just stood there looking pensive and undecided on what to do next. They were stubborn, but got movin’ quickly back to the barn when the large German Shepherd that lives across the highway charged off a side porch of the neighboring residence, barking, and snarling in a terrifying baritone voice. The Cows found themselves nearly surrounded and made a quick break for the barn on the other side of the hill. I really didn’t need help barking at them, but it was fun having a little extra excitement to end the afternoon.