As many of you know, I have two dogs.
They are high-strung, riled-up, frothing-at-the-mouth, snarling, razor-toothed, hair-on-end, exceptionally ferocious…
You don’t believe me?
Fine. I’ll show you. But remember, you were warned!
(WARNING: The following photographs may not be suitable for all audiences. Please preview before allowing easily frightened individuals to view!)
I beg your pardon! Have you the temerity to suggest they are NOT ferocious?
Hmmpphh! (Well, they do bark sometimes. So there.)
ANYWAY, back to the point I was making before I was so rudely interrupted. And as always, I do have one.
My ferocious dogs are being terrorized by a deer.
It’s true. You heard me right. A sweet, dainty, doe-eyed little white-tailed deer. Except she isn’t. She’s like the hand-maiden of Satan.
Yesterday, I was about to leave for my daughter’s lacrosse game (where we all got soaked for a change, but that’s another story…) I let the dogs out to take care of their dogly business, and next thing I knew, I heard Scout’s Danger Bark! Warning! Warning! Stay in the house! Do not under any circumstances exit the premises! Danger!
It was the wrong time of day for the UPS man, (who gives them cookies but is never allowed onto the property unchallenged as a matter of principal) but as I told you, the bear has been around. So when I heard that bark I thought, Hmmm, maybe it’s the bear. (I hope you were able to follow that leap of logic.)
So out the door I rushed lest my fierce ones need assistance chasing off the bear, heedless of my own safety (I’m that brave… or stupid….) and what should I see but a Mexican stand off.
But not with the bear.
Nope, my dogs were nearly muzzle-to-muzzle with a doe.
The doe had the advantage of higher ground, but the dogs had the advantage of superior numbers. It was bound to be a fearsome struggle. The three of them stood in a triangle, with the doe at the top, almost equidistant from each other (what’s that called? not isosceles, the other one…) locked in mortal combat. Really.
The doe snorted and threatened to step forward.
The dogs shrank back.
The dogs snarled and barked.
The doe shrank back.
Really, action this fast-paced was difficult to follow. If only I’d had my video camera….
But seriously, we’re just at the brink of fawn season, and though it’s a little early, the only time I’ve ever seen a doe behave like this (and it’s happened twice before) was when she had a very young fawn nearby. Does may look sweet, but they can, in fact, be lethal. (Truthfully. I’m not making this up – you can check. To protect their fawns they will go after threats (dogs or people) with their front hooves, and the results are most unpleasant for the attacked.)
So I really was worried about my little sweetums.
“Scout! Jemma!” I called desperately. “Come!”
Now, ordinarily my dogs are the definition of obedience and jump to my command (hahahahahahahaha sorry, I couldn’t even say that with a straight face) but they were protecting me from the savage doe and would not be called off. I was forced to use the age old ruse of opening the car door and calling sweetly, “Who wants to go for a ride in the car?”
Leaving one important duty (guard dogs!) for another (copilot and navigator!) they leapt aboard the Dog Mobile (that’s my 2002 Toyota Siena, for the uninitiated) and the doe went on her merry way, crisis averted without loss of face.
Really, I’m exhausted just telling you about it. I think it’s time for lunch.
And if you’re wondering how this relates to writing, well…. hang on… I’ll think of something…. Ah, yes! Get ready for a pearl of wisdom: If you find yourself locked in the mortal combat of writer’s block, go for a drive in the car, hang your head out the window and let the wind blow your ears back. Sound advice, no? Very refreshing.
Feel free to share your own stories from Wild Kingdom, compliment Scout and Jemma’s excessive bravery (they always like to be told what good dogs they are!), or tell me what the heck that triangle with equal sides is called 🙂