THE RODENT IN THE WOODPILE

Wednesday, (Sept. 4): Mike headed into the Blue Mountains to pick up some geocaches – something he wanted to accomplish before cold weather. I put the dogs into the kennel and closed the gate without locking it. Nellie can open the gate. I know it and she knows it. But she likes a morning nap and I wanted to sew without worrying about Bess, the pup. I would check on them from time to time. 

About 10:30 I heard a commotion behind the house and intermittent barking. I poked my head out to see Nellie pointing the woodpile and Bess prancing all around her – over and under -- in an effort to find her own position. So, I joined the party to see what was going on. I couldn’t see anything but I could hear chirping and chitterings. Probably not a bird, I decided. Probably a rodent. 

I debated about taking the woodpile down but decided that would be useless. The dogs were well entertained. I went back to my sewing. 

The UPS guy came and the dogs took a short break from their hunting to receive treats from him. He and I laughed about their rapt interest in the woodpile. 

At noon Bess marched up to the back door and I knew she was hungry for her lunch. She snarfed it down and hurried back to patrol duty. I also fed Nellie.

The day went on and the dogs wouldn’t leave the woodpile. They were determined in their endeavors and making a mess. Bark was everywhere, but the woodpile was holding firm – and holding the quarry.

Occasionally Bess would come in the house, flop down on the floor for five minutes, then go back out. Nellie, older but wiser, knows the value of sticking with the hunt.

Mike came back at 4:00 during one of Bess’ nap breaks. “Where are the dogs?” he asked. “Why didn’t anyone come to greet me?” Bess rolled over sleepily. “Oh hi Mike,” she said.

So, I explained the dilemma. Before supper Mike had swept up the bark. And I guess the dogs tired of their quest, at least for that day. The next day they were at it again until Mike kenneled them. It rained and they sought refuge in the dogloo.

And during that time I was cleaning the kitchen and doing the dishes. As I glanced out the window I was surprised to see “Chipper” Chipmunk (or Chippette?) sitting calmly on the woodpile, apparently aware that the dogs were otherwise occupied. She sat a long time grooming herself and giving special attention to her tail. Mike quietly opened the sliding door and took a picture.

After lunch we left for the farm. Perhaps Chippette will move along to some other haunt while we’re away. I rather hope so. KW