My Next Dog Will Be Brave

The other night, I was home alone and the back door slammed shut.  I freaked out, because I was, as I said, home alone. I listened quietly to hear for the Butcher. I let out a tentative “Hello?” and then I waited for my vicious killer of a dog to rush whoever would dare enter my home.

She chose to hide, first behind me, and then in the closet.

I armed myself with an empty bottle of rum and my cell phone and proceeded to creep around the house and call the Butcher furtively to try to figure out if that was him. And did the dog come along and protect me?


Then yesterday, we had a tornado warning, which I missed out on because I was sitting here enjoying the thunder and did not have any local media on, and did she try to herd me into the closet where we might be safe?


Did she even make any attempt to eat the giant moth the other day?


Is it so wrong to want a dog who has your back, not hides behind it?

6 thoughts on “My Next Dog Will Be Brave

  1. Maybe this is just another respect in which she is getting slow and lazy in her old age. Comparing Saturday’s gas station visit to the first ever time I was at a gas station with Mrs. Wigglebottom is telling. She was just sitting there, kinda smiling at the guy across the pump; whereas, oh so many years ago she snarled and barked and just put up a fuss to keep everyone away from the car.

    Although that would make her indifferent when she is actually exhibiting fear. Goofy girl. I still bet though that if there were a person attacking you that she’d go crazy and take care of things. She just wants you to be the one to determine real from potential dangers while she is hiding.

  2. I still think that dude was checking out your ass and the dog was just smiling at him in order to encourage him. You know, give him some plausible deniability, “Oh he was totally looking at me. Look how cute I was smiling!”

    In her defense, she did eat a fly just now, so she’s not settled into retirement completely.

  3. Mine is perfectly willing to defend me from passers-by and fluffy puppies. Today a lady walking a large-ish Brittany spaniel told the neighbors (with their tiny poodle) that her dog had been “viciously attacked” by a smaller dog, and was now terrified of them. I’m pretty sure she was talking about the one time my dog got out and barked in her dog’s face.

    So, you know. Mixed blessing.

    On the other hand, maybe the door slamming was a ghost, and if it had been a real burglar she’d have gone all nutso on his ass? Maybe you should hire an acquaintance to fake-break-in, see what happens.

  4. well, thanks for the, um, vote of confidence (in my ability to attract gawkers, that is).

    and I did see her eat a bunch of fleas too. And she surely has no fear of watermelon rinds either.

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