What is going on in Charlie’s Corner? Actually, I’m just waiting for winter.
My wife, Jane, got me some coveralls for Christmas so I would be properly stylish when riding my new little Massey-Ferguson garden tractor this spring, but winter hasn’t shown up yet.
I’ll get to the coveralls in a bit. But you need to know this first:
Three years ago, in the middle of the winter, Jane and the boys and I rescued a barely tamed, feral Carolina Dog (aka American Dingo – you could look it up).
Before we could get her into the house, she bolted and hid under a neighbor’s porch.
After some weeks, D.D., an acquired name standing for damned dog, continued to display those special lovable characteristics of her ancestors — nothing that six weeks and a grand’s worth of intense training shouldn’t cure.
D.D. did very well. But to remind her of her training and to keep her company, we also rescued, Rex, a lovable but most unworthy beta-male, a’hem — guard dog, from a most unpleasant and certain fate.
It was soon time for D.D. to graduate. The trainer brought the two to our home and proceeded to show them off.
Rex eagerly showed what he had been taught in his 18 months of life in boot camp, but D.D. was home now and would have no more of those silly rules. She was most smartly up to her old ways before the trainer had left that afternoon.
We repaired the fence in the back yard and held these companions pretty well, but it was no match for a stray puppy that decided to move in.
D.D. had her own pack now and was ready to show them the ropes. More fence repairs and more TLC and more irate neighbors. We did our best to hold them with training collars and strong leashes, but we figured one more incident and there goes the farm.
So, off D.D., Rex and now Littlebit went back to school while we fenced in an acre and a half with a quarter mile of 5-foot rail and hog wire.
That new fence not only kept our dogs in, but it kept the deer out.
Now you know why I have a garden tractor and new coveralls. Last year was the test. This year I intend to eat.
Oh, by the way, D.D., Rex and Littlebit love the family, the folks at Charlie’s Soap, and especially the grandchildren. They’re my best buddies.
We just can’t trust them “unsupervised” with the neighbors or strangers on the golf course behind the house.
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