The Mohawk Gang

In lieu of children, friends, or not so favorite relatives, pets of different kinds will often fill those companionship voids.  Cats are cool, but totally undependable.  Fish, well, it there's nothing on TV I guess.  Hamsters are too small.  And Dogs, well, dogs can be everything you wanted out of a chum but would often like to drop off at the Bangor exit on your way to Canada. 

Bless her heart, I do love Stubby's brainless soul.  Stubeetchka is a sweet tempered canine.  But she is a dog.  Prone to mind numbing dog routines no one and in particular Stub herself understand why she does what she does.  It's as if she can't help herself.  When certain things happen, critters showing up on her radar, or a sound she may take a shine to, she goes crazy.  Breaking ice cubes out of the trays will send her into a manic barking jag no sharp word or threat will dampen until that last cube has been deposited safely into it's bin ready to be enjoyed in whatever cool drink comes to mind.

She gets along with the cats.  Even plays around with them some.  But they better not compromise her space on the bed or even hint at tasting her food when her head's in it.  A sharp snarl and a nip of usually air will keep the little feline bastids at paws length.

It's the semi wild friends outside that really switch on her mindless brain dead focus.  Specifically the Mohawk Gang.  A tough gang of red squirrels who take turns torturing her and teasing her by being just out of reach.  The fool dog will spend hours and hours trying to dig one out of the wood pile.  She'll park at the base of a tree and ten feet up one of the Mohawk Gang will scold her while casually munching on some nut, berry, or tasty bit of grain.

It's funny though.  The little reprobates are nowhere to be seen when one of the cats is sniffing around.  The Mohawk Gang know who's dangerous in our home who's the joke.  Stub's their patsy.  They work her for all she's worth.

See Ya...........................................