Halt, Who Goes There?

Don't expect to get away with anything around our house. The little dogs are watching.

Anything, and I mean the smallest anything, that changes in our yard catches their attention the instant they go through the door. Tuesday mornings are always startling to them, because the neighbor across the street always puts his trash bin out the night before and it looms up out of the morning darkness.

The neighbors down the street kept them rattled for two days during which a huge Mayflower moving van sat on the street and people were moving things out of the house. The dogs did not approve one little bit.

Friday morning I busied myself trimming bushes and cutting sprouts out of the flower beds while my septic serviceman was diagnosing and dealing with our problem in that area. Just as he finished, the heavens opened up and it's been raining off and on ever since. So I have small piles of trimmings scattered around the front yard that I haven't yet been able to pick up and put in the trash can. Every time we go out in the yard, I am told that they don't belong there.

Tonight I am in trouble because I took the Scouts up on a deal to put a small American flag in my yard on patriotic holidays for the next year. A young man installed a flag this evening and forgot to clear it with the dogs. It was thoroughly inspected, growled at, circled and recircled as they evaluated this new instrusion into their environment. They still don't believe there was any necessity for it in our lives.

So, best keep your nose clean around here. Any deviation from the accepted norm will be prosecuted. Mojo and Coco are on the job. Don't say I didn't warn you.

LSW