Tales from the Bark Side

By Keith Ross | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, November 24, 2007

Welcome back to the bark side of life here in Ottertail where the inevitable winter winds are still held at bay by an autumn that refuses to go unto the night quietly.

This is a good thing from my perspective because I still have projects to finish that need the absence of snow and ice. My fingers are crossed (and my toes too). With the preparation for winter around our kennels, there are certain events that take place that I want to share with you this week. I call it the case of the greedy grandma.

With the foul weather just around the corner, here at Rosswood we kennel our matriarch (Lara Mee) inside the garage. She's the one who climbs the stairs up to where I sit at the keyboard and spin my yarns.

Weighing 120 pounds makes her a formidable force by which to reckon. She still tries to self-pet on occasion, but she has relented and now chooses to lean against me with loving affection; moving me away from the keyboard and at her disposal for undisturbed attention. I need to have eight-foot arms to be able to type. Who invented rollers on computer chairs anyway?

Lara Mee has to share her abode with three (grandchildren) puppies from our last litter. They absolutely love her and she dotes upon them like any good granny would do. Last January (2007) I wrote about the rivalry between Lara Mee and Roxy; who now lives in North Dakota with a very loving family. The booty was a bone-shaped biscuit and Roxy snatched one out of the wood pile and sat on it to hide her purloined treat.

This year the game continues. I'm ashamed to report that Heidi's momma, our Lara Mee, has taken to stealing the pup's knuckle bones. In fact, she stock piles them in her wooden box kennel. It's kind of like a dragon's lair and she sleeps on them (has to be rather uncomfortable) like a flame-breathing lizard of old.

The three pups come from a long line of conniving canines. We named them after the color of ribbon they wore when they were whelped. Putting a colored ribbon around their neck helps us keep track of their weight and all their behaviors. German Shepherd puppies all pretty much look the same at birth. Hence, the coral colored one is Cora; the burgundy-colored one is Burgie, and the red one is Red or Rudy. We have to name them something. “Hey you!” doesn't quite work.

I brought home knuckle bones for all the dogs the other day because it helps clean their teeth and is especially good for teething puppies. Lara Mee doesn't have her allocated amount of teeth these days because of her kennel wrecking days in the past, but she still needs to clean her teeth. She either waits until the pups are outside (leaving their bones unattended) or she just goes into their kennel and takes them outright.

I have to play referee whenever I see this outrage taking place.

Meanwhile, the pups must have had a meeting of their own, figuring out a plan to take back their precious treats. Two nights ago, the four of them were together, frolicking like good doggies do. Cora was licking and applying affection to Lara Mee's nose when Burgie went into the whelping kennel to retrieve his bone (I'm just guessing it was his) and then Rudy zipped into the kennel as well.

Lara Mee didn't have a clue. She was being a good grandma (at the time) and her attention was totally focused on Cora. Then the light went on over Lara Mee's head — she was being duped! She left Cora and went to find the two little criminals who just ripped her off. You guessed it. Cora took advantage of the situation and she went and picked out a bone of her own.

When my laughing subsided, I locked Lara Mee in her kennel (minus three bones) and put the other three in theirs. They chewed away with a satisfied look only a vindicated individual can truly understand. I believe these traits are mostly instinct, territoriality and all.

I also believe that reason plays a large role in the behaviors of all animals these days. We claim that children are smarter at a younger age because they are exposed to more information than we were at the same age. Could it be true that the same goes for our four- and two-legged friends?