I have a small parcel of land that is mine and mine alone. It is probably about 7000 square feet, and enclosed in a fence.
This land is not the bank’s, it’s not Barack Obama’s, not Donald Trump’s, not Vladimir Putin’s, not ISIS’s, not yours, not your dog’s – it’s mine. It’s called the backyard.
As a puppy, while brother Angus would play in there and mug for the camera, I took it upon myself to guard and protect it.
I got a million photos like this. Angus in the foreground, barking or playing or having a ball in his mouth, and in the background, there will be me, on the fence line. In good weather and in bad.
So now that I have set the background, let me tell you a little story about yesterday.
Mama let me outside, about oh nine hundred, for the 2nd time yesterday, and she settled down in her recliner with a diet coke, and then heard me barking (aka acoustic salvo launching).
In itself, my firing acoustic salvos at the yard is not unusual. It’s what I do. I’m protective about 2 things in this world. First is the car, when I am in it alone. I’m gonna defend it. If staff is in the car, not so much. They can defend it for themselves. The second thing is my backyard. And I will defend it if staff it out there or not. I’m always watching – alert. Looking for threats to the fenceline.
Anyway, where was I in my story? Oh yes, barking. So Mama thought, “Do I need to get up?” Not unless Ainsley doesn’t stop soon. Then she heard a terrible ruckus. Acoustic Salvos being fired at a rapid more frantic rate, and growling and all sorts of commotion. So this time, she decides, i gotta get up now and see what is going on.
So she goes to the backdoor, opens it, and there I am, at the fence line, and just outside the fence is a woman carrying away a little dustmop of a dog, glaring at me! The stranger walks back to the sidewalk, and then puts little dustmop dog on the sidewalk, and walks away.
Now, questions for the glaring lady:
First, why did you walk to the fenceline? It’s a good 20-30 feet from the sidewalk to my fence. Nobody gets to visit unless you are on the guest list. And let me see – I don’t see don’t see your name, and I don’t see Dustmop’s name either. I don’t even see Paul McCartney’s name (which is the only thing I have in common with Tyga, I suppose) In fact, yesterday’s invited guest list was empty. Nobody was on it. So why did you think it was a wonderful idea to walk up to my fence?
Second, in what point during my acoustic salvo firing did you think I was saying, “hey, I like you, come up and see me?” I mean, a dog with a mouth like a German Shepherd and huge outsized teeth doesn’t seem that friendly, I wouldn’t think. And I am a terrier, right? I look like a Scottie, the AKC says I am a Scottie. So whadaya know, I am a Scottish Terrier. Not a Golden…not a Lhasa Apso, not a stoopid friendly beagle…I am a Terrier. Do I look approachable to you??? Maybe one of my acoustic salvos misfired, and instead of saying what I intended for it to convey, which was “Get the Hell Away from my Yard,” perhaps it said “Hey, come on down.” If it did say that, please let me know. I will need to call Scottish Terrier Acoustic Salvo Technical Support and ask them what the problem is with my acoustic salvos.
Third question – why you glaring at me? Why don’t you take a little mirror out of your purse, and glare at the reflection. Cause the only one here doing what they are NOT supposed to be doing was you. You Maroon!