Sabbatical

Hey everyone out there. It's been pretty quiet around here without the Pig to bark at. Actually, that's not true, which would make it a lie, but I'm not admitting to a lie. Okay,  back to the serenity of the peaceful Blue Ridge mountains. Nothing is ever quiet with six dogs around especially when those dogs are Dalmatians who are notorious barkers. Since the pig has left us (a moment of silence for Pig and Piglet) the Doos have found any number of things to bark at including each other. They bark at squirrels, leaves, trees, water, humans and even me. Right now they are the great moth hunters. They are stalking moths as if they were a pride of lions on the hunt for antelope. Moths are not the brightest of God's creations, To say they are several french fries short of a happy meal is a classic understatement. They live to glue themselves to a lit light bulb and fry themselves to death. During the day, they lay down with their wings spread and soak up the sunlight which dries the dew off their wings so they can fly. This is all well and good except when you do this in snuffling distance of a curious Dal your going to that bright light in the sky. Now all of the Dals except Sunfire like the sport of hunting. Sunfire likes eating moths. Everybody else waits until night when they can sneak up on a flying moth and snatch it out of the sky. They aren't even too fond of eating them, just catching them in mid air. Now Sunfire is different. That's like saying if you fall off of a boat in the ocean, you might get damp. They are all different, but Sunfire is different different. He is the baby,  less than three years old, which in the world of male Dals, gives him the maturity of a pimply faced 15 year old. Male Dals don't even begin to mature until after 5 at which time they grow a brain. Anyway, Sunfire doesn't understand the subtleties of hunting. In his mind, why would you expend all that effort when you can pick them off like popcorn in a bucket during the day, watch them flop around, smack them around like a hockey puck, squash them with a paw and eat them. Makes perfect sense to him. The others look at him like "disgusting". Like he cares. His way of moth hunting may be a little too direct for them, but in the statistics of  "moths killed" he's leading the pack.

Oh, speaking of the Pig before. I found some juicy info I want to share. It seems that Piglet wasn't a piglet after all. he was one of those Vietnamese pot belly jobs, full grown. So it wasn't a big pig taking care of a little pig, they were FREAKS! It's like when you see those big fat women with those little skinny guys. I remember a long long time ago, hearing some woman in the grocery store telling the cashier how her husband had given her a whupping. This  woman was 400 pounds if she was a ounce and a good 5'8". All of a sudden  this little skinny guy comes up to her while she is having her groceries checked out, and by that, I mean the food. This guy is about 5'3" and a solid 100 pounds and none of that was muscle and very little of that was groceries. Okay, big deal, I checked them out. I was looking for the reason she would stay with a dickhead like that. Anyway, she yelled at him to get the groceries out to the car and at that moment I figured it out, they were freaks. That piglet was just like this guy, and the Pig was the equivalent of his wife. I look at that and know that God has a sense of humor. If you don't want to take my word for that, just look around for a few minutes or go to Illinois, but that's another story.

Okay, back to the title of this post. Sabbatical! I have decided to take a sabbatical, also known as checking out of civilization, off the grid, what ever you want to call it, I call it a sabbatical because it sounds classier. Now you're thinking, where you live is out of civilization! You are right but sometimes I have to go to town for something or another and that's a big PITA. So I decided that I would take one month off,  stocked up on groceries and dog food and biscuits and library books. The aim of this was to stay here on the mountain for a month and just enjoy myself and the dogs.  I work from home using the computer and that's only a few hours a day. I thought that it may drive me stir crazy but 12 days into it and I'm enjoying life more than I ever had. It's great to wake up to the mountain air and sounds of the creek. Sit on the screened porch and watch Sunfire eat moths. I spend the day working around the house and the yard which doesn't take long, watching the dogs run and play in the creek, reading, listening to music and watching the dogs stalk bugs at night. Now this may sound boring but it's not. It's what I always dreamed of, peace and quiet (well maybe not so quiet) serenity and dreaming of my garden. If anyone would have told me 30 years ago that this was going to be my life I'd have laughed. If they said it 10 years ago, I would have smiled and said, "I hope so". So if you are out this way, let me know and drop on by, I'll be at home......

RIP Pig,,,,

Well as you can see by the title, I have some bad news. Worse news for Pig and Piglet. It's been confirmed that they are both now residing in that big sausage factory in the sky. Actually, I think they are actually residing in my neighbor's freezer. There is however a good side of this. Not for Pig or piglet, but their pen is one large compost heap and we'll remember Pig every time we eat a fresh tomato or other goodies from my soon to be garden.

Sunny still looks for Pig, but I think he is giving up hope. Meanwhile with Pig gone, the Yorkies are running wild. They run as a posse. You never see one alone it's always all three or none. They don't look alike, they all wear a different color sweaters. But beyond that, they still look different. One is really big for a Yorkie, he's about the size of a cocker spaniel. He's real mouthy. could give Riggins a run for his money as being the world's noisiest barking dog. But at least Riggins has a real bark, not a squeal that sounds like someone stepped on a chipmunk. Okay, Riggins bark is a little high which makes it very annoying. There is one regular sized Yorkie, you can tell he is a follower, not a leader, he looks to the big Yorkie for direction. Then there is this little pipsqueak Yorkie who really believes he's a Rottweiler in disguise. I mean in my own mind, I'm a 6' blue eyed blond who weighs about 125 lbs named Inga. However, I must say the Yorkie is probably closer to his dream than I am mine. The best way to describe this critter with attitude is to compare him to the toady in "A Christmas Story". Remember the bully and that short little bad tempered side kick of his? If you know who I'm talking about imagine a smaller version of that with 4 legs a lot of hair with a topknot and a sweater and you've got yourself the smallest Yorkie. He is always sucking up to the big Yorkie who pays him no attention.

Did I tell you about the old yellow lab who lives with these Yorkies? Well if I did, skip this part. There is an old male lab who coexists with these sweater wearing furry demons. To say he pays them no attention is an understatement. Of course, he pays no attention to anything except his owner and if has a nice spot in the sun, when he sees his owner he'll give a tail wag, but won't leave his spot for that. Lottie wandered over there one day and saw the lab. She looked at him and laid down in the sun, ignoring him and him ignoring her. Nothing like 2 old dogs hanging out in the sun. She stayed there for a few minutes and wandered on home. Lottie doesn't walk anywhere, she kind of meanders.at her own speed and ignores my calling to her. You gotta love that old dog attitude.

Okay, I'm digressing again . Back to the Lab and Yorkies. The lab doesn't pay any attention to them and they stay away from him. I have a sneaking suspicion that he may make a Yorkie snack out of them if they got to annoying him or at least sit on them. That's the thing about these little thugs, they raise hell when the dogs aren't out or at least Sunny isn't in the yard. They've seen Sunny clear the fence like an Olympic high jumper. The other dogs don't jump the fence but the Yorkies aren't taking any chances. Last week they were at my fence and raising hell. None of the dogs were out, but I let Mira out just for fun. She won't jump the fence, but being that she hates everyone not connected to the family she is a force to be reckoned with. She attacked that fence like a redneck on a pork chop You would of thought that she was going to go right through that fence. Of course she wasn't and that's lucky for the Yorkies. She has developed a rare kind of hatred for these dogs. Anyway, I didn't know Yorkies could run that fast on those short little legs especially when they were shitting on themselves. They literally flew up the road and have not returned. They continue to bark from their porch but will go inside when they see Mira. I would go inside if I didn't know Mira. Anyway, after she chased them off, she turned her back on the fence and kicked dirt. Now if she was a major league baseball player, she would have been kicked out of the game, but she's just little Mira who has a bad attitude .....

Beam me up Maslan

I mentioned Maslan Ofman (I'm not sure about the spelling but if you see my friend Joni ask her, she is up on stuff like that). Speaking of Joni, one night we were at her house drinking wine and surfing the alternative websites and came upon a post about Ms Ofman. It stated that she was employed by the UN in the position of "Ambassador of Interplanetary Relations". In other words, she is the welcome wagon lady for any aliens who happen to drop by the hood.  When you were a kid, do you remember drinking milk and some other kid would say something outrageous and you would spit milk out your nose? Well this was one of those moments except it was wine. We started to dig through some posts that people had created and the more we read and the more wine we drank the funnier it got. It seems that the United Nations, who is located in New York so guess who is paying the tab for this, decided that just in case some aliens decided to make a neighborly (or not) call to say "Hi", we needed an official greeter. Now this woman is no slouch, she has a PhD from some university in India,. Now is that prestigious or what! Anyway, her job is basically to hang out and wait for the aliens and then if they are friendly she will show them around New York City and maybe get them good seats at a play on Broadway. I made up the part about showing them around, nobody ever said what her job was beyond greeting them. Now the question came to us during this wine drinking and laughing, exactly how do you apply for this job? How much does it pay and what qualifications you need to be considered. Now we all agree that this is the lamest job on the face of the planet. There was no hoop-de-do when she took that office and exactly where is Hilary Clinton in all this??

After thinking about this for awhile I gathered a few thoughts on this. First off, it would take some ungodly amount of time for the aliens to get here, something like 85 million years to get here. Secondly, if they are so technologically savvy that they can get here what can we offer them? Brings to mind an old Twilight Zone where the aliens landed and had a big book called "Serving Man". They got all these people to get on a space ship headed to their home planet and then you found out that the book was really a cookbook. Get it, Serving Man? Besides us being intellectually amoebas next to them, why would they pick this place to come to? What, not enough pollution and war on their own planet? Maybe this would be like some primitive amusement park. Besides which can you see them landing and trotting down Fifth Avenue asking, where do I find Maslan Ofman? So lets see how this works out. We have people starving and disease is spreading and governments are collapsing and we don't have money for any of that  but I'd like to see the check Dr Ofman gets on payday.Bet she makes a lot more than a Walmart greeter and they actually have to greet people.

Okay, if some of you do some research  on her and find out more info, let me know and I'll post it. Or better yet, post it in the comments section so we all can enjoy it. You should be able to sleep better tonight knowing that the UN has posted someone on watch so those sneaky aliens can't just glide on in without having to deal with the likes of Maslan...

Happy Birthday Sunman

Yesterday was Sunny's 8th birthday. It sure doesn't seem like 8 years. It seems like just yesterday that he was tearing around destroying everything in his path. Come to think of it, maybe it was yesterday. All kidding aside, it's been a great, but eventful period. I thought I'd entertain you with  my favorite story of Sunny. By the way, I want to give a shout out to my daughter-in-law Karri. She is a fan of this blog and I'm a fan of hers, so Hi Karri!

Oh, I should also tell you that the Sunny vs. pig thing has escalated to a new level. I told you that I say hi to the pig whenever I see her and she has been watching me through the pen and has been giving me the stink eye. She never mumbles a snort but I know a bad look when I see one. Today, Sunny and I went for our walk, or should I say drag. Anyway we are moving along and I'm hollering at Sunny to be "easy" and he is straining at the lead and it's raining hard. Well,I look over and don't see the pig. Pigs are supposed to be fairly smart. So this pig was out of the rain, Of course she could have used a good shower but what the hey. Any way as I look over, this pig comes running out from the porch, that's where her pen is. Now to say a pig is running doesn't quite describe it. She has this big head, very heavy body and short legs and looks like  fat lady in spandex running after an ice cream truck. So she gets up to the fence and start snorting at Sunny. I don't know what she was saying but it didn't sit right with Sunny and he damned near dragged us both in the creek.
This pig now has Sunny's full attention and he is barking at her, a very serious bark and she's snorting at him. I get the feeling that they were playing the dozens. For those of you not skilled in playing the dozens it's a verbal game where one person says a "your mama" and the other tries to top him and it goes on. Like "your mama's so fat when she sits around the house, she sits around the house" and a rebut would be, "your sister's so ugly they got to tie a pork chop around her neck to get the dog to play with her" etc., etc, etc. This thing between them is getting nasty. But as I told Sunny, hang on, she may be in your dinner bowl some day.

Okay, back to happy birthday Sunny. The first time I saw him was at a conformation class. Now don't confuse that with Confirmation. The first teaches a dog and handler how to show in a show ring, the other is when the bishop get to smack you for no good reason. I have stories about that too, but that will have to wait. Anyway there was this handsome little black and white Dalmatian pup with a big black heart shaped nose. I fell in love with him right then. That was also how I met my good friend Julia. She owned Sunny. I bugged her and bugged her until she agreed to let me have him. then the fun began. He was and is a true piece of work. He was into everything, nosiest damn dog you ever seen. His preferred place to sit was on top of a persons head or on the dining room table. That's right, we called him Sunny the hat. he would lay on your head with paws dangling on four corners. Depending on what direction he was facing, the scenery could be less than desirable. He grew from that to laying around your neck like a mink stole, if minks were black and white. He always did like to wear clothes and he still has a visor that is red with cowboy boots on it. He loves that hat. Sunny has had many nicknames and after Sunny the hat, came Sunny the pantyPanty King".

Well, it's late and it's time for all good seniors to be in their beds. It dawned on me recently, that I hadn't told you about the pig's sidekick and some inside lowdown from a reputable source (the pig's owner) about the pig's background. I also haven't discussed Maslan Ofman. Now this has absolutely nothing to do with living out in the boonies but this is someone you should be aware of. Okay til next time......

Lotto meets the pig

Been pretty quiet here lately. No Yorkie attacks. Of course it's been raining for the past 3 days and a Yorkie could drown in a good size puddle and I hear they are not good swimmers. If you've ever seen a wet Yorkie they are actually kind of cute in a drowned rat sort of way. The thing that makes them cute is that little bit of hair on their head that their owners tie into a little pony tail. They usually looked embarrassed when you see them wet. Dalmatians (some of them) don't like to get their feet wet either. I have some that will splash in the biggest mud puddle they can find turning both themselves and any onlookers into muddy messes.Those same dogs, however look at me as if I had lost my mind when I suggest to them that they go outside to use the bathroom. I can hear their little brains working as if to say, "that's what floors are for". When you find a puddle or worse on the floor my first instinct is to say, usually loudly, "okay who did this". Of course all the Doos look at me to say, "not me" then they look at each other as if they are asking, "you know anything about this puddle" than back at me to say, "they don't know anything about it either." Sometimes I catch one of them giving me a look as if to say "how do we know you didn't do this and blame it on us!!!" I've got to tell ya'll that as I am typing away on this.I got up to get a refill of water and damned if I didn't just about step in a puddle. I thought I heard stifled Dalmatian laughter. Very funny.

 Before we get on to Lotto and the pig, We need to look a little further into this little dog top knot thingy. I trust that the Lord did a good job in designing things. As an engineer I can tell you that the human body is an huge miracle.  Nothing a human could have devised of would work as well. It would have broken down within a few months and of course the warranty would have run out the day before. But the fact is that we don't. It's called planned obsolescence, go look it up folks. God planned that we would find a way to kill ourselves and each other. He's right and as the nun's used to say, 'he's God". So I figure there was a good reason for that hair in the eyes on some dogs. People will say that "they can't see with all their hair in their eve's". Of course they can see, you don't see them running around and bumping into things, do you? If your toy dog is banging into things he has a bigger problem than hair in his eyes and you need to address it immediately and that doesn't include tying their hair up with a rubber band. So what is up with this tying and hair bow thing. That's probably why the Yorkie thugs are so mean, they have a sort of Napoleon complex.. Hmmmm might be worth looking into.

Okay, back to Lotto and the pig. I think I told you that since Sunny has taken to jumping the fence I have taken to walking him. This is good for me because of my healthy living kick. The other dogs who have free reign in the yard think he is getting a special treat and are jealous. Lotto is extremely PO'd because in her world,all the good things belong to her. Besides which I think Sunny has been bragging about his adventure with the pig. Now in general Lotto is a very good girl and won't wander off. So I thought I'd give her a break and let her go for a walk with Sunny and I. I totally forgot about  ODA (old dog attitude) because I'm getting senile in my old age. Anyway we head out the gate and down the road Lotto is starting to inch on ahead. After a few minutes she is trotting her merry way at least 50 ft ahead of us I call to her and you can tell she heard me, her ears twitched just a little, but she totally ignored me. Then I see her headed for the pig. Sunny's ears shot up because he still wanted to get a closer look at that smelly thing, but with me on the other end he couldn't. So there goes Lotto trotting towards the pig. Now, Lotto is different than any other dog. She has refined manners, unless you count that farting thing. She doesn't go screaming up there at 90 mph applying the brakes with an OMG look on her face like Sunny did. No, not Lotto. She daintily walks up to about 8 feet from the pig, and looks at it very nonchalantly but for a long period of time. The pig in turn is looking back at her trying to decide if she is as tasty as a  Yorkie. Now, they are not staring at each other, but just looking. If there was any communication going on it had to be telepathic. After doing this for awhile, and I have to admit that I was fascinated and watching the whole time. Lotto finally looked over to where we were on the other side of the creek, took one last look at the pig and turned around and started to walk to us. Now Lotto does not like water of any kind, so she walked back to where the bridge is and came on back and headed home. No excuses, no explanations, nothing, just started heading home. Of course Sunny wanted to catch up to her to glean any info he could. Once, back at the house she acted like nothing had happened and in reality, nothing did except a telepathic conversation between a huge smelly pig and a little spotted dog. I asked her if she met the pig and she wagged her tail and smiled thinking all the time to herself, "people are such idiots". So that was pretty much that except that when I walk Sunny and we see the pig, I always say, "hi pig" and I swear that thing is giving me the stink eye. I wish Lotto could speak, but then she may not tell anyway.

Dem bones......

Bones come in all shapes and sizes. For example my bones are old and fragile and I have a tendency to obsess over them. We've already discussed this, see a few posts back. My little neighbor, who lives with the Yorkie thugs and the "pig", could fall off the side of a mountain and merely get dusty. Myself, I could trip over a leaf and windup in a rehab facility for years after which it's the county home. Anyway (I use "anyway " a lot too did you notice that?) the bones we're going to discuss are rawhide rolls. If you have a big dog, or even a Yorkie, you are probably familiar with rawhide products. If you are not, count yourself lucky and get a fish for a friend. Last I heard, fish don't require treats which get all slobbery and gooey. Rawhide is my Doos favorite treat.

Now we need to discuss the shape of the rawhide treat, that's  a very important thing to a dog and some favor one kind and some another. They come in several shapes and sizes. First there is the "chip" which is good for puppies and small dogs. It is a piece of cured rawhide cut into small uneven shapes. My dogs go through a chip in zero time flat. You don't even get the bag closed and their looking at you like, "well where's the treat". It's an exercise in futility to even think about giving them one. 

The second most common shape is a "bone" which is a piece of rawhide rolled and tied into knots on the ends. My Doos aren't fans of this type of rawhide. Every one  of them will chew on the rolled part but will leave the knots on the ends. I'm thinking it's genetic since they are all related, or maybe a weird religious rite of some sort. Possibly it's involved in some voodoo curse upon Yorkies, but it couldn't be that they have been doing this all their lives. I give up, all I know is I will buy a large expensive bag of "bones" and wind up tripping and falling over the knots. Those of you who have had experience with this type of bone will tell you those damn things hurt when you step on one. This also has the effect of me yelling and making remarks as to who their father is and the state of their mother's morals. Let me tell you, I know their mother and she is the one who started this weird habit. I also know their fathers personally one of whom lives with us.

 That leaves the "retriever roll". This is a piece of rawhide rolled with no knots on the end. The Doos go crazy over these. This is where the story begins. Dogs are like kids in that you can't give one a treat and not the  other. The reason being that the kid who doesn't get anything with drive you nuts with their crying and when that doesn't work the will steal the treat from the kid you gave one to. So when I pass out a retriever roll, which acts just like a pacifier. I have to have one for everyone. I always know we are in for an interesting time.

I think at this point I need to describe to those of you with non-bone eating companions what the consumption of a bone entails. If you have a weak stomach you might want to skip this part. First there is the proper way to hold the bone. This consists of holding it between the paws and one end is slightly elevated for proper chewing height. The dog then gnaws on the end therefore rehydrating the rawhide which is now a gooey sticky mess with dog slobber on it. Dog slobber is one of those unnatural substances which sticks to objects like glue. You think you have washed it off, but when it drys there is always more slobber! I can;t even imagine when you give a bone to one of those big dogs that drool all the time. (YUCK!!). Dogs also like to take their bones with them when they go somewhere like outside (to bury it) or to drag it through mud or God forbid poop! To them it's like putting mustard on a hot dog, just tastes better. I will wash off a dirty bone, but I draw the line at poop. My dogs also have a technique for eating. they like to chew both ends so now the whole things is a wet slobbery mess.

Every dog know that what the other dog has is better than theirs. That is a died in the wool fact and that works with kids too. Raising dogs and raising kids is pretty much the same thing. So if you really messed up your kids, don't get a dog! Anyway, I digress. When I hand out bones there are two types of responses one of which is "gimme, gimme, gimme", the other is "why do you bother when you know he/she will just take it from me". And the comedy of errors begin. Yesterday, I handed out retriever rolls, I've finally learned my lesson about the knots on the ends of the other type. As usual we have the ones drooling in anticipation. that would be Lotto, Siren and Sunny. then I offer one to the other three, Mira, Riggins and Sunfire. Some don't get but a few steps before they are relieved of their bone. Some will go to a dog bed of which we have a few lying around. Others will head for a crate. Lotto and Siren (like mother like daughter) are the best of the bone snatchers. They will hide their bones and go out pilfering another dog's bone. The funniest part of all this is that while they are out on a mission, someone else is stealing their bones. With in a half hour no one has their original bone and some have a few while others have none. 

Their  method of hiding bones is highly developed and they have really honed their skills. For instance, when Sunny was a young dog and he would travel to shows he was always in fear that one of the older dogs in the hotel room would steal his bone. He developed two methods of bone hiding. the first was to hide it under my pillow. He would sneak it up on the bed and casually lay it in front of my pillow and then just as casually using his nose, stuff it under the pillow. When this quit working because the other dogs soon caught on he came up with the coup de gras. He would hide it under my butt. Now talk about a surprise the first time he did it I thought he was coming up to cuddle, but oh no. I felt this bone next to me and the next thing I know he is trying to stuff it under me which you can imagine did not go well. I soon learned to lift a cheek when he would come around with a bone. Of course he doesn't do that anymore, he is head dog and God help anyone who would try to take his bone. That of course doesn't include Mira who for some reason he lets do anything she wants and Lotto who would kick the crap out of him if he tries. Lotto has the coolest method of heisting a bone.She merely walks by and takes it from someone. No muss, no fuss, no bother. At the end of a day of bone wars I always think "I will never give them another bone" but then I think how lucky I am to not have to dodge bone knobs. Until next time, watch where you step......

Attack of the Yorkies.....

I told you a couple of posts ago about the Yorkies who reside up here with the dog eating pig. You may also recall that I have no basis for my theory about the dog eating pig. So from now on, we will just refer to the pig as the "pig". I've heard of pigs sueing people for less slander than that and I don't need to be tied up in a lawsuit. I do believe that would be one short court case. That pig stinks to high heaven and would only spend 10 seconds testifying before the judge or jury would say "Give that pig what it wants, just get it out of here". And, that would be that!

The three Yorkies, (not to be confused with the three blind mice or the three stooges) are thugs. I better be careful talking about the Yorkies, they seem pretty tight with the pig. But I don't think they can read so unless one of you tells them I'm fairly safe. I have six Dalmatians none of which are thugs, all of which are goobers. They learned about the Yorkies our first night here. Now each Yorkie weighs about 2 to 3lbs. Of course they are always attired in such cute little pastel sweaters. Anyway, that evening all three came up to my fence raising hell. Barking and yapping and carrying torches and signs that said "Dalmatians go home". I just made up that last part, they didn't have signs. Now, my dogs have all seen show rings and the various dogs that enter them. They all think anything smaller than a bulldog is fuzzy bait. For those of you uninitiated or smart enough to stay away from a show ring, "bait" is a goodie that you offer the dog for behaving itself and not eating or mounting the dog before or after itself. A lot of dogs see smaller dogs as bait. Not because it smells like a goodie, but it is the size and shape of a squirrel. We all know that squirrels are vicious killers and humans must be protected from them. Now when the Yorkies were attacking, my dogs were standing on the porch with their ears forward as if to say "What?, speak Dalmatian we can't understand you" and the rest were heading for the gate as if to say "Squirrels, lets get 'em". In short order, the Yorkies retreated. They got a good look at the ones at the gate and decided, goobers or not, they had big teeth. That was the last we had seen of the Yorkies. Of course they stand on their porch and taunt the Spots saying things like "big spotted wussies!" and other things they wouldn't say to their faces.

This morning was a gorgeous morning. It was a magical morning that had promises of spring. You could smell the fresh mountain air and hear the voices of nature, and the yapping of Yorkies. Sunny and I were sitting on the porch steps when we first heard this "yapyapyapyapyap" coming up the road. His ears went up, he stood up and looked down the road and gave me a look that said "Good Lord, here they come again". He was right. By this time they were about 50' away from the fence. Mira charged the fence. I told you how Mira doesn't like anyone or anything except her pack. This was her big opportunity to take out her aggression. I think I forgot to tell you that Mira is this small petite little girl, about 19.5 to 20.0 inches with a bark that is reminiscent of a large angry Rottweiler. The noise stopped the Yorkies in their tracks looking for this huge dog that was making the noise. They spotted Mira and thought, "pffftt, she's just a short little loudmouth we thought it was that big boy".  Of course they underestimated Mira. Big things come in small packages like diamonds, dynamite ad Mira. Siren and Riggins were at the fence as a cheering squad for Mira. Sunny had been put in his crate and Lotto was walking balk and forth barking for the hell of it. Last but not least is Sunfire who was barking and jumping because Mira was. Mira is kind of like Sunfire's mentor. The suspense was killing me. I was telling the Doos to be quiet and they were of course ignoring me. The Yorkies were sauntering closer and closer acting like they were sightseeing, looking all around. They got about two feet from the fence and Mira exploded. If you have ever seen Mira explode it is an awesome sight. Her back feet are giving her traction. Her front two are digging and clawing at the fence and she is literally snarling and drooling. Her voice and actions say very loudly "let me get a tooth on that cute little pastel sweater and I'll tear you limb from limb".  Kind of reminds me of a Tasmanian devil not spinning. The look on the Yorkies face's was priceless.. I didn't get to see it but for a moment because they had high tailed it (literally) up the road. If Dalmatians could high five and slap hands with each other, they would have been doing it. They were kind of gathered around Mira and saying "you the dog, Mouse". Mira of course likes to end a scene like that by turning around and kicking dirt after which she turned around and came to sit with me on the porch steps. She was smiling and very proud of herself. I put an arm around her and gave her a hug and said "Good girl foo-foo mouse". Something tells me it's gonna be a few days before we see the Yorkies