Sunday, April 28, 2013

Why don't you come back?

Photo by Lana Joos
You love to join us when we feed the chickens. Since their run is in the back of the yard, you and your friend Rebba race all the way down there. There's a fence and a door that keeps you from going all the way back by yourselves - since you have shown you are not afraid to jump over the fence. It had been a while though and you are no longer a full-of-mischief-puppy. I opened the door and the three of us walked towards the poultry run. Then all of a sudden, the barking started. You had spotted a red cat and you were furious! You do not allow cats in your territory (well, since you don't seem to realize Arthur is a cat too, I can say you don't tolerate any cats) and that's exactly what you wanted to tell that intruder. The cat was familiar with the surroundings and left our garden to race over the grass field of our neighbor. Although you had strained a muscle in your hind leg last week, it didn't bother you to pursuit the malicious cat. You were too fast for my eyes and the last thing I saw of you, was your rear bottom as you left the neighbor's garden. Rebba panicked and she was in despair. She barked to call you back but you were not to be seen. I grabbed both of your leashes and took Rebba outside, to go find you. I knew you were not going to come back as long as you thought there was a chance of getting hold of that cat.

Just around the corner, we spotted you on the cemetery. I called you, but you ran off again, barking your lungs out. We started to run for we didn't want to loose track of you. I found you exactly where you had left our domain: just beside the rusty barbed wire that is the border of both our back yards. I put on your leash and reprimanded you for not coming when I call you. You kept your eyes hidden behind your lashes and you didn't look up once. I could see your heart pound in your chest. Rebba was relieved and she licked you. When we got home, I checked to see if you were injured. Holy guacamole Inthe! just look at you! Your groin is all bruised! You were looking for pity, putting your tail between your legs and hiding in your bench.. I'll let you lick your wounds for now. You're no longer allowed to join me when I feed the chickens. Your fault. And mine.

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