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.
Sometimes I sit in the Living room and look into the Old Guy’s room. I’m not allowed in there unless it is early in the morning when he sits in his chair and gets dressed. Despite underneath the bed looking so tempting, it is classified as a big-no-no. Only a neat line of shoes and the likes are permitted. But, that old beds underbelly, make no mistake, does look like temptation personified to me.
This is where I nap and rest during the day while the Old Guy works on his computer, watches television or actually accomplishes something. During the hottest part of the day, this is a pretty good place to rest and be comfortable. In this Selfie, I can be seen resting with my eyes closed, while the Old Guy is napping instead of getting some work done inside, outside or on paper.
From where I sit … I haven’t figured out why this is the popular room of the house. Day and night, at all hours, the Old Guy comes in here to either stand, and look down while humming some ridiculous musical tune or to sit there blankly thinking about who knows who or who knows what. It is during those times that I often receive repeat lectures on the do’s and don’ts of the household. Occasionally, there are some serious odors in that room not of my own making. The gaseous emissions can be so intense that my eyes water for several minutes or more after each horrendous exposure.
I am Ellie. Sometimes I am called The Princess, or Ellie Dog, but most often I am called “Dog” by the Old Guy who has trouble remembering names. I am a special needs Yorkie. You probably wouldn’t know I am “special” unless you noticed a spinal deformity, an inability to jump, no hair on my back or looked in my bowl at my medicinal dog food. But even so, believe me … I do well enough for myself.
So … you’re invited to have a look at my world from “MY” perspective. (yep … way down here)