To Bark or Not to Bark, That is the Question.
Since Smokey crossed the rainbow bridge I am head dog around here. It's not because I'm ready or old enough. It's I guess just my size. The other dogs here are all very small yorkies and such. Mean but not big enough to chase a coyote or fox away from the chickens. Mom still calls me little tiny Tonka even though I'm almost 90 pounds. She's crazy like that.
I've been trying to guard the whole place by myself so after dark I just look down the driveway and bark. I know there are deer and other things out there. Sometimes I bristle all up and run a ways down there to scare the boogies away.
When a car comes down the driveway at night I stop barking and wait to see who it is. Mom says I have it all backwards and need to be silent unless something is going on. I'm trying.
Mom taught me to speak if I want a cookie. It's not really a bark more like a word. We were at the bank the other day and there was a line. I've never seen a line there but sat like Mom told me to behind the man in front of us. After a few minutes I thought I would go ahead and ask for my cookie. The man turned around and accused me of growling at him and thought I was mean. The nice ladies at the bank just laughed and got me my cookies.
Who knew it was all so complicated.
