|Up I go!|
|Where'd they go?|
We had several apple trees in the back yard and, Daisy, in pursuit of squirrels (who teased her endlessly), would jump into the first crotch (ok, maybe not the correct term) and work her way up into the tree after them. We would find her perched on a narrow branch, doing her balancing act, and barking wildly at one of her nemeses. She did fall out SEVERAL times but this did not deter her efforts. The amazing thing is that she would often curl her front leg and paw around a branch to pull herself up.
Once, I observed Daisy trotting to the back of the yard only to spin around and run, like a maniac (nose stretched out, ears flying) straight toward the big oak tree. About the time I thought she was going to crash and burn, she ran right up the side. It was then that I realized that she was trying for the squirrel feeder over six feet off the ground.
A day or so later I looked out the kitchen window and saw Daisy sitting on the feeder looking up into the humongous oak tree. I guess she was trying to figure out how to get higher. It wasn’t too long before she provided us with a big laugh. The old feeder (with Daisy on board) broke and came crashing to the ground. However, undaunted by her experience she still ran up the tree daily (but couldn’t seem to reach the lowest branch which was about 50 feet off the ground).
When the kid did anything Daisy was right there.In fact everything my kids did was a cause for joyful celebration by Daisy. An example of this is when I heard a funny noise in the front room. There was a “sloughing” sound followed by two kids giggling then by hysterical laughter. When I stepped into the room and asked what was going on my son demonstrated. He placed a large hand around daisy’s muzzle, put his mouth to an opening left around his thumb, then blew. The result was the flapping of Daisy’s lips close to the corners of her mouth (and of course the weird noise). Daisy kept going back for more.
|Shoot it! Shoot it!|
Once in a while she would sneak food from the table (particularly corn on the cob). Also, we occasionally had to extricate her from a deep hole in the ground where she dug herself into trouble going after a mole (wish I had a picture of that). And, if that wasn’t enough, I got a call from my neighbor across the street telling me to rescue my dog. I found Daisy hanging from our fence by her collar.
How did we ever get to lucky to find such a great dog?