An Uninvited Guest In My Backyard

Our youngest ended up in our bed again last night because it was so cold, and he has a propensity for kicking off his covers in the night and then waking up cold.

And wouldn't you know Judah woke up when the front door clicked shut as Jeff was leaving for work. I was able to snuggle him back under the covers and pat his back until he fell back asleep. Ahh, another blissful hour of sleep, I thought glancing drowsily at the alarm clock then nestling into my pillow and drifting off to sleep.

I thought too soon, however, because after barely falling back asleep, I heard a commotion outside my bedroom window which was far noisier than even our clumsy dog Raisin is capable of. In the fog of my disturbed sleep, I imagined that her water might have frozen over and she was thirsty.

I dragged myself out of my stupor, and took my time puttering around my bedroom, doing everything to stay as quiet as possible so Judah would stay asleep. I stopped by the bathroom for my robe, and gaped at the reflection that greeted me in the mirror. The masque I'd put on last night while surfing blogs was still there, and scared me a little.

Well, of course I decided that I must go clean that off my face, and was headed to do so when I again heard what sounded suspiciously like a puppy whine and much clamoring around from the back yard.

Thinking I'd go yell at the dog to be quiet, then resume my normal morning routine and maybe get a shower and a few chores done before Judah woke up, I meandered to the back door, opened the blinds, and saw two dogs staring up at me through the glass.

We own only one dog.

One dog who at that moment looked very guilty. That skulking around, tail-between-the-legs kind of guilty.

Where had the little pit bull puppy come from?!

After trying unsuccesfully to coax Raisin into the house, I knew I needed a different plan of action. Especially after seeing Raisin, who is twice the puppy's size, slobbering all over the poor (already drooled on) thing, who though she could hold her own, looked up at me pleadingly.

Realizing immediate action needed to be taken, I hustled to the front closet, got my shoes on and pulled my coat on over my robe, and ran to the back door. I figured a little extra 'protection' on my arms wouldn't hurt, just in case the dogs got nippy when I tried to get them apart.

By this time, the dogs were back to playfighting, but in a way much like a big brother not knowing when enough was enough, and making the little brother cry (ask me how I know this?!).

Mind you, Raisin is a rather solitary animal. Not used to other dogs in her domain. She was thrilled with all the excitement, but I feared it was spurring her on to the point of reckless abandon. With warnings from our vet about how Shar-Peis are a very loyal family pet, but generally do best in one-pet households echoing in the corners of my mind (amongst the brain lint and dust bunnies).

I wasn't scared of the pit bull, but more afraid of what Raisin would do excitable as she was. I knew they needed to be separated pronto. But how?

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and grabbing the only tool available, I snatched up the nearby push broom which was leaned up against the house, and wielded it broom side down, swinging it back and forth in a scythe motion.

Yes, for a little while this morning, I was Pa Ingalls, harvesting wheat...or perhaps shoveling snow. And I somehow managed to separate the dogs and at least keep Raisin from her over-eager, "I want to pet the puppy, and hug the puppy and squeeze the puppy" Of Mice and Men behavior.

After quite some time, breath puffing in the frosty morning air, I finally managed to trap Raisin down at the end of our long side yard. There happened to be an old bike trailer parked there, so I set the brake on it, moved it to the side of the narrow passageway, and used the old milk can that is supposed to be holding all our rakes and shovels and such (but was empty) to block Raisin's exit, all while still wielding the push broom to keep the dogs apart. The puppy was trying to climb under the trailer to be with Raisin, the glutton for punishment.

Trapping Raisin behind this temporary fortress of sorts bought me just enough time to run to the back door and yell inside to wake my older son Jericho up.

Clearly, it was a job for more than one person, and I needed help, stat! How was I to encourage the neighbor puppy to climb back through the hole under the fence if Raisin were nipping at his heels and he needed to defend himself? We needed to rouse the neighbors and get them to call their puppy from their side of the fence if we were to make short work of things

Raisin, meanwhile, deducted that if you can't go over it...or around it...you can go under it, and squiggled her way under and was once again loose, and playfighting with the puppy by the time I arrived back on the scene.

Meanwhile, neighbor dog #2, the incessantly barking Pomeranian from Hades, shows up at the hole where the puppy got under, peeks under, spots me, and has the audacity to curl back it's lips and growl up at me.

Excuse me?! You're in my yard, pal. Get back! I lunged at it with the push broom, which worked to scare it back into it's own yard enough so that I could quickly lean down and grab up a nearby shovel to temporarily block the hole so that the Pomeranian couldn't join our rousting little morning calisthenics.

Raisin's excitement was growing and she was making growling sounds and getting all big and 'brave' with 'Mama' out there (no doubt gearing up to strut her 'guard dog' stuff) and frankly, I was worried she might hurt the puppy.

So Jericho finally shows up, and finds me in all my FrumpMama glory (looking much like the picture on the left there, sans the hot rollers), mask on my now heated-with-exertion face, in pj's and a bathrobe and a coat, wielding the push broom to separate the dogs. Again.

He sees me in this state, and promptly dissolves into giggles. Full blown, doubled over laughing hysterically laughter.

Ahh, nothing like your 11 year old laughing at you to chirk up your sagging spirits...while you are trying your durndest to keep two dogs apart, and are already weary from the battle.

"Get over to the neighbor's house and have them go out back and call to their puppy from their side of the fence so she'll finally go back under the fence" I snapped, annoyed.

He did, and returned, but no luck.

Apparently at that hour, only children were up in that house and they didn't know what to do.

So, after some creative maneuvering, I managed to get Raisin out into the main part of the back yard, while keeping the puppy behind me, and told Jericho to get Raisin into the house. "Trap her in the kitchen!"

In spite of his laughter, and between mimicking me 'lunging' at the dogs with the swinging push broom, he managed to do just that, and in short order.

Finally, after much further exertion, I was able to coax the puppy back through the fence (which was tricky with the Pomeranian peeking through and baring it's teeth at me from time to time), blocked off that hole with a stepping stone, and was finally able to go inside.

Stepping inside, I looked around, and found that Raisin had spent her confinement in my kitchen cleaning house.

As in licking every crumb she could from the floor beneath Judah's high chair, as well as retrieving the stray pieces of dogfood from beneath the chrome rack near where we keep the dog food bucket.



Though she caused me a boatload of trouble this morning, she redeemed herself by actually saving me a step in my morning cleaning! There was no longer any need to sweep, so all that was left for me to do was to Swiffer the floors and my work was done!

Hmmm, think it would it be 'crossing the line' to resort to just letting her in for a few minutes every morning for crumb patrol before I swiffer, lol?