Charlyn’s Web

The blonde quadruped that lives around here has been displaying his true colors, and they aren’t all golden.

Once upon a time, “Mom’s dog” used to announce visitors coming up the driveway, chase deer out of the area, go “mousing,” and perform other useful services. Admittedly, he’d dig up the yard, drag smelly wapiti remains home, and forage in the organic refuse pile, but basically he was all right to have around.

That was then.

Oh, to be sure, he still excavates the yard, and deposits decaying carcasses and other disgusting things near the back door.

But the slothful canine gave up chasing deer: can’t catch ’em; they’re too fast; might as well give up. So the villains wander around like they own the place, eating roses, raspberry vines, small trees and whatever else, leaving destruction in their wake. He often doesn’t even bother to lift his head.

Whilst pheasants recklessly ravage the garden, the lion sleeps.

Announcing visitors? Well, yes, he still does that sometimes.

When he feels like it.

But both the mail lady and the “children’s father” clad in brown shorts are now able to drive all the way up to the house and escape our notice until they honk. It seems that bribery with delicious doggie treats will prevail over any sense of duty and honor. The tawny traitor excitedly (but quietly) trots out to greet the delivery vehicles, visions of yummy delights dancing in his head.

But the real slap in the face?

The fleabag barks at me when I’m driving home from work!

Man’s best friend? Ha!

Well, maybe. They just didn’t say which man’s best friend!