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Scooby's Spring Fling |  |
I also have two other dogs, three cats and two guinea pigs but Scooby was the only one who traveled with us on our recent driving trip to San Diego. I’m not sure he’ll ever be the same. Scooby’s job is to protect our family, but mostly me, from the four biggest threats his little pea-brain can fathom: cows, horses, other dogs and men. He has learned to tolerate Daddy because Daddy knows how to scritch his cheeks the way he likes but that’s about it. Mostly he defends me against other men by rolling on his back and piddling on himself. I’m sure he’s saved me countless times from being ravaged by some would-be mauler and for that, I will never forgive him. He’ll accept treats from me but if Daddy or anyone else hands him a treat, he’ll wait to until they set the treat down. Then, he’ll pick it up and bury it. We don’t have to be near dirt for him to bury the treat. I have found his treats behind pillows, in the sofa cushions, blankets and clothing. If Daddy tries to take away the treat, he’ll growl at him, snatch it back and bury it somewhere else. He doesn’t growl at me. When he was a puppy, we had many “discussions” about just who was going to be lead dog of this pack. I won. He accepts it and understands it but doesn’t like it. This dog is smart. In the drive southward, he noticed that cattle were not to be found in wooded areas. When we approached forests, he sat down or took a nap. He would look up now and then and when he saw a flat area, he would go on full alert. Once the trees came back, he relaxed. He even figured out that livestock were not to be found in big cities like Los Angeles and San Diego. Sheep don’t get his attention. He’ll look at them but not bark. I think he thinks they’re popcorned cows and so, are not a threat. While driving around town where we live, Scooby will see the occasional cow. Sometimes there may even be a herd of ten or so. Once spotted, the dog goes into a frothing frenzy, barking and snarling and literally mashing his nose against the car window, all in his attempt to get at the offending bovine. This works fine around town but as we got further and further south, the herds got larger. Finally, we approached the infamous stockyards of lovely, lovely, Stockton, California. Our car went over a rise in the freeway and there they were. Cows as far as the little doggie eye could see. Acres and acres of cows. They went on forever. His eyes bugged out about half an inch. You could smell the brain synapses frying and almost read his thoughts. “Which cow do I bark at first? That one? This one?” Then, I have never in my life see a dog do this, but I swear it happened, his lower jaw dropped. His mouth hung open. No sound came out. Slowly, he sat down and then crawled to the back of the van. Man, the dogs back home were never going to believe this one. |
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