Mother’s Day possum: just practice
Another holiday, another body. Accumulation of skills a worry for July 4th?
We were warned the German was smart, learned quickly, and adapted skills to new situations.
Quickly mastered opening of lever-handled doors. (“I’m lonely!” With pathetic face.)
Crated? No problem. Master of the large dog body block “roll-the-crate-over-and-over move” until the door warps and can be pried open. (“Look, I waited for you to come back…Only pulled the shoes and assorted clothing to my bed…Well mouthed, but not punctured.” Smiling endearing face.)
Determinedly lunges at the front door’s glass panels as the car backs out. (“Wait, it’s a dog friendly trip. I don’t take up that much room!” Promising doggy face and wildly wagging tail.)
And that brings us back to the crate…now with multiple steel bars reinforcing the door and the whole thing wedged between couch and heavy wingback chair. (Resignation. A little testing of the crate door. Then, a big sigh, a circle, and a nap.)
What can I say? She’s a people person.
Peace and quiet has done wonders.
No longer eating twice as much as a normal dog and still rail thin from worry. Actually we were asked to cut back on the food and step up the exercise to get her back into shape.
(It was a very rainy winter. Rain encourages more lounging around. Soothing, but not good for the waistline.)
And, always helpful, the German now voluntarily screens any box brought into the house. (Does a really good job. No bombs have sneaked in yet.)
An outdoor enthusiast, she has recently become the great backyard trapper.
So when I looked over and saw it there – carefully place among her toys (She’s very neat and keeps them together) – all I could think was, she looked awfully pleased with herself when she came back inside that last time.
It was pale, about three inches long with something stringy dangling out of one roughly ripped end.
Definitely not a lizard.
Furry, mushed, and mauled.
Not yielding a definite identity.
RC’s mousies are usually completely devoured out of spite.
Slow cat missing a tail?
Congenial possum left something behind this time?
Funny, it looks like a bunny ear.
Nooooo! Not a baby bunny!
Snatched out of the toy bank, the mouthed lump is given a closer look. And a poke.
Not a bloodless vein.
A wire protruding from a smudged velvety surface.
Nooooo! Not a snatched bunny ear!
There’s only one that’s not secure: Sidney the Skater bunny perched on the bookcase in the sunny room!
And there, Memorial Day mystery solved.
Sprawled on the floor: a half-deaf bunny. In shock. Whiskers askew. His wild feathery topknot gone. Is the sweater missing a button, too?
We were doing so well.
I was about to put the rug back down by the front door. No, not the one that’s there now with the fringe missing on one end. The nice new replacement rug.
Not bothered in the least? Anything to say?
The German looking winsome: “What? It looked just like that cat leg that hangs off the fence. It was a training device, right? No? Oh, pardon. My mistake. You want to play ball?” (Casually wanders off.)
Dogs live in the moment they say.
But this one, well, she thinks.
And she thinks the possum is close-by keeping an eye on the ripening figs.
So the quest continues.
Practice makes perfect.
She is just determined to
trap adopt a friend – one way or another…
A path lined with figs perhaps?
The German, a thoughtful dog.
Developing holiday anxiety,
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
- Run. Run far. Not far enough. (Story of the recent Mother’s Day Possum event.)
Related posts in The German’s saga (Click the “German Shepherd” tag in the sidebar)
- The German: Homeless at heart (Here’s the beginning of the German’s Saga)
- A German’s Ode to Joy
- A German Waits for Christmas
- She doesn’t deserve the reputation she has.
- Very Unsuitable Activity: waiting