It’s All In The Game

Call me a busy body, but call me, okay.  I notice, well…things.  And my nose and ears….they should be insured, like a fighter’s hands because the slightest whiff or noise can tantalize and torment me.

You may ask, ‘What ya talking bout? Who gives you these grandiose ideas?’ Well, it’s the truth.  I can be sound asleep, in another room, in another time zone, frolicking with my lost canine family and Wonder Boy stealthily opens his bag of beef jerky and I am so on it.  My senses awaken, my eyes fly open, my nose pops up, and like the US Department of Homeland Security’s Shadow Wolves, the department’s only Native American tracking unit, I am on a mission, to hunt, to  find, to ravish.

The good news is Momma taught Wonder Boy to share but…..never enough, if you ask me.  And Wonder Boy is not only sneaky, he is a wily only child so sometimes when he is not in a loving and giving mood, he takes the bag to his bedroom and locks me out. What is that all about?  All evening (okay, when he is home), I sit as close as possible to him (and try to keep the cats out of bound- okay, more for my sake than his).  At night, I sleep faithfully beside him, protecting him from all manners of evil.  I will put in twelve hours straight, not moving a muscle, for fair of disturbing him. And he won’t share his beef jerky.  Blame Momma.  Isn’t it always the mother’s faulty?

But my talent is not all about me.

Take for instance, Momma and I are out on a walk. My Shadow Wolf Native American tracking radar feels any negative energy approaching, even innocuous looking sources and I stop dead, sitting down like a ton of bricks. Nothing Momma can do will  make me continue, not even a stick of dynamite will entice me to move.  I sit my ground and look around for the culprit.  Is he on the other side of the street or approaching me or coming up behind me or even  walking in the other direction on an adjacent street and will not come near us?  Once I have established the location, a decision is made. The bearer of the negative energy  must pass us, taking his destructive cloud of harmful vibes out of our space, before I give the all clear and Momma and I can move again.

It came to pass on a sunny, summer afternoon, Momma and I were walking up our street, looking at the lovely old homes, set on expansive lawns, some with circular driveways.  All of a sudden my fur stood up, I looked around and felt, saw, heard trouble, walking up behind us.  I plunked myself down, it (he) passed and meandered up the driveway of our neighbour. I sensed what it was about.

They have a classic convertible that car aficionados drool over and Mr. Could-Be-Trouble bent down, peering in the windows. Now I love these people, Miss Lawyer, Mr. Doctorate and Beautiful Baby Combination. They are so good to me.

They looked after me when RIP Daddy passed away and Momma was otherwise occupied.   I even forgive them for having two border collies, one that jumps and snarls at me, the other one that totally ignores me.

 

And so I sat, giving this interloper the Stinky eye, growling deep in my throat, looking as menacing as a twenty pound Havanese can look.  And…it worked.  If I had felt his vibe, he definitely recognized mine. He looked at me, back at the car.  He looked at Momma, then back at the car.  Time to move on.  Everyone has a cell phone these days, the owners might come out with a shot gun.  He had no worries about the police.  He was good at leaving them in the dust. His Spidy sense said move on.  Mr. Could-Be-Trouble ambled on down the gateway and headed back to the park.

I stood up and Momma and I headed home.  I wonder if I will get recognition for a job well done.  Not likely….  Who is going to phone city hall to tell them about my relentless pursuit of the bad apples?  Not Momma.  She is too busy writing blogs.