My Whiskey Dog Morning
Having returned from yet another canoe trip the night before, I went to my garage in order to sort through the gear that had been deposited on the floor.
Scratches and snorts at the inside door told me that my dog ‘Whiskey’ was eager to join in the fun and have a sniff at what exotic odours I may have brought back for him.
Clipping a rather lengthy leash to his collar, I secured the other end to the bumper of my car thereby giving Whiskey full reign of the front yard while I moved items in and out of the garage.
It wasn’t long before unrecognizable sounds of commotion began to drift from the yard. Strolling out of the garage to investigate, I was horrified to see that Whiskey had a large bag of fertilizer grasped firmly between his jaws and with each shake of the head, was flinging the contents wildly about the lawn. A second bag, contents already expended, lay limp at his side. With my panicked shouts, Whiskey dropped the bag and approached with wagging tail and rather pleased look. Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, I unhitched Whiskey from the lead and marched him back indoors where, no doubt, my ‘hound from hell’ would find other items to destroy.
Fearful that the grass would be burned beyond recoverable, I dropped to my knees and in a panic, attempted to scoop the mounds of pellets back into the bag. Realizing that recovering the thousands of beads that lay scattered across my yard by hand was futile, an idea came to mind. Retreating to the garage I plugged in my upright floor vacuum cleaner and began running it back and forth over the area peppered with pellets. Continuous clicks and pings coming from the housing convinced me the technique worked and had me break out in a wide grin.
A few astonished neighbours slowed as they drove by, observing my vacuuming of the front lawn, unsure of what to make of my puzzling behaviour. Still sporting my silly grin, I tried to explain actions by shouting back~
“It’s because of Whiskey!”
That inadequate statement sure gave the neighbourhood something to talk about for the next year!
Cheers!
* * *
Whiskey is long gone and now we find ourselves terrorized by flying rodents known as budgies. A couple of attached photos showing the trouble they can get into.