So my work week at home started with something new and exciting and momentarily terrifying.
Klaus (our new German Shepherd pup) ventured into the buffalo field and walked like No big deal Mom, don’t worry! along the fence line, with Chunk-Hi immediately in front of him. I was dragging our trash bin down the gravel driveway for Tuesday morning pickup, and I guess Klaus thought a walk on the wild side was in order. I mean, who wouldn’t rather walk with a buffalo than a gritty-faced lady dragging trash? I know. He’s no dummy.
Eventually our hulking bachelor bison, now tired of his small, hyperactive field mate, turned back toward where Klaus was following, gave him a baritone chuff and a gentle little hoof-stomp, just a warning. He squared off his big horns and just stared so hard, and Klaus stopped and stared back for like one second. Maybe less.
Okay, bye then! Klaus barked cheerfully, and he spun around. My sweet pup wanted to be back on the safe side all of a sudden, and I was glad. He started trotting that long, low slung body away from the buff and only looked over his shoulder once. I watched warily, abandoning my trash chore.
Although Klaus is plenty small enough to fit through most of the open grids in the bison fencing, for some reason he was devoted to the idea of exiting far away, through a large, curled gap in the fence uphill, where he had entered. Right near the cattle gate which I affectionately refer to as our False Sense of Security. I called to him a million times and air-kissed enthusiastically, hoping to lure him out the side of the pasture sooner, but he just kept on trucking in the sand, side-eyeing me with that big, toothy grin and long tongue dripping out of the side of his perfect, leathery alligator mouth. He looked so proud to be in the buff’s field, like a big boy. Like, he didn’t even need me! Chunk gained on him a little more, slowly but surely. Just walking.
Klaus! Come ON! I am BEGGING you! I climbed the fence, never mind for a moment my unmatched swim suit and completely un-cowgirl-like cotton wrap, and hoped my flip flops would not betray me during the rescue mission. Chunk was way more interested in me joining the party than in Klaus leaving, and so was Klaus. It confused everyone’s priorities. The boys were both aiming for and gaining on me and all I could think about was cutting open the watermelon waiting patiently for me in the kitchen sink.
In a stroke of pure Universal Magic and Delight, Klaus bolted for me just as I swung my second leg over the wooden brace and hopped down and also just as Chunk brought his swagger up to a bounce. Klaus did his normal celebratory pouncing and licking, which I had to cut short for obvious reasons. In a moment, the pup and I exited ungracefully and I gave the buff so many head scruffs in appreciation of him not smashing anyone to smithereens today. He accepted said scruffs, bellowed once, and turned away to go see what this trash bin business was all about.
So the event ended peacefully. We all lived to go for multiple thunderstorm swims, feed the four-leggeds more hay, and collect a ton of fresh eggs. (Finally!) The trash eventually made its way to the road, and so far Klaus has not reentered the front field.
Signing of now to finally go cut open that watermelon.
The End.
XOXOXO
Ahh, the innocence of youth, not recognizing the impending danger nor risk of injury.
Suddenly, Chunk’s eye looks old and wise compared to the dewy, sparkly baby eyes of Klaus. lol