Terrorist Armadillos
I love my dog. He's a 95-pound Ridgeback mix, and he's very loyal. When he's home, he keeps his ears open for the sound of intruders, and he spends every afternoon worrying about the stream of kids walking past our house on the way to theirs. When I go away on business trips, I don't worry about a thing. Last night, all of this loyalty came back to bite us in the ass, as it were. At about 5:45 a.m. Luke heard the shuffling of an armadillo outside our bedroom window, and decided it was a major threat to our safety. According to his Standard Operating Procedures, he ran from room to room, growling and HUFF'ing, then came to a stop next to my side of the bed...staring at me. This is universal Luke-speak for "I need to go outside." (Did I mention that he's tall enough that he can look me in the eye when I'm in bed? It's more than a little disconcerting at times.) I spent a large portion of the rest of my early morning telling Luke to ignore the armadillos and go back to bed...and dealing with his hissy fit ...
Posted on March 28, 2007 12:50:17 PM EDT
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