I wanted to share this with you all. Henry and the Chipmunks Roxie was a sweet dog. A bit nuts, but loving in her way. She is gone now, a 17 year member of our family and dearly missed. Henry, a 9-year-old Jack Russell now reigns over the house with his own set of rules, which are subject to change at any moment depending on his mood, the periodic table of elements or tide charts. Last week I was in the backyard with Henry and we were playing ball. Well, more correctly, I was playing ball and he was playing with me. The game is simple. I have two balls. I throw one and Henry gets it and brings it back. I then throw the other. The second ball is bait to draw Henry back to me with his retrieved remnant of a long past tennis game. The problem is that while Henry knows the rules very well, he has decided that another game would be more fun. It is something akin to keeping the ball away from me, running up and down the deck stairs, though the vegetable garden, through the flowers and then trying to convince me that this was what I wanted all along and he should get a cookie as a reward. This is all clear in his mind I suppose, but its execution seems to muddle the intent. When I fail to understand what he is doing I know he is thinking that he is the one that should have pockets and they should be filled with cookies, or whatever 2-legs eat, and he would have me trained in no time at all. But I seem to continually disappoint him and perhaps even frustrate him by laughing at all of this. Why on earth I should be enjoying this is beyond his understanding, but its the only game in town. Roxie never chased anything at all, never mind bringing anything back to anyone. I would say to her, “lets get the mail”. She would excitedly wait for the front door to open, run to the parkway and pee. She really did not have the whole concept of “mail” down, but she knew it was a chance to ruin the lawn. Henry, when he is able to get out the front door, might wait for an instruction or he may try to make it to Brazil on his own at full speed. He almost always heads West and runs to the neighbor’s yard. Any neighbor. He will wait for me only if I threaten to launch a cruse missile at him. The volume at which I have to yell precludes the fire department from testing its disaster siren at 10:30 on Tuesday mornings should Henry’s escape happen to coincide with the weekly schedule. Roxie was pretty much at peace with the world. Oh she didn’t much like other dogs and was very choosey about people, hated loud noises, detested riding in the car, well, you get the idea. But, she was a good-natured dog who was happy to dig holes in the drywall and leave it at that. Henry, on the other hand, has declared war. On whom you might ask? Well, on pretty much anything that he does not control. His current favorites are birds and planes. He is convinced that they are invading his world and are minions of an evil empire that will bomb his kingdom into oblivion. When a plane flies overhead he will run after it at full speed across the yard barking for all he is worth. He has not yet caught one but I feel sorry for United Airlines if he ever does. Birds also get his attention, along with squirrels and they, I am sure, live in fear of his ‘shake your soul’ to the core bark. That bark was honed railing at thunder and lightening. Roxie would cower in the laundry room shaking, Henry wants to do combat with Thor or Oden or whomever is rude enough to send these upsetting sounds into his domain. What about the chipmunks? They have lived in the woodpile for 12-15 years. That means that the wood has been home to many generations of the same chipmunk family. They are equal tenants and I try to treat them with respect and some privacy. In fact, I have not touched the now very old logs that are their living room since I discovered them and we seem to live in harmony. One day about 5 years ago I came into the kitchen and saw Roxie lying on the floor with her nose up against the glass of the sliding door. On the other side was a chipmunk laying on the deck with its nose up to the glass staring at Roxie. They stayed that way for quite a while as I watched. I saw that repeated a few times and each brought a smile. Henry has now discovered the chipmunks. Well, he actually discovered them a few years ago but they refused to do battle. They would cower in the woodpile until he got tired of shaking their world with his bark. Now when he is out if he smells them under the deck, kind of a chipmunk by-pass or highway, he runs under the deck and challenges them to unarmed combat. I have never seen the fights because I cant see under the deck but I can certainly hear the barking and growling. I assume the gladiator chipmunk of choice for that day is growling and making other fearsome noises too, but they are hard to make out over the thunder like Henry sounds. The population of chipmunks is not dropping and Henry has not brought back any victims so I will assume that this is all in fun, or as fast as Henry is they are even faster. I have worried that Henry might catch one of the wild creatures that live around the house. There is a family of foxes, many rabbits, squirrels and of course the chipmunks. Roxie took a passive approach to this menagerie, even once trying to adopt a fox kit as her puppy. The raccoons that live in the storm sewers and dine at my garbage cans seem content and non-aggressive. Im hoping this will wear off on Henry. But as any North Korean leader can tell you, bluster and fearsome noises can get you pretty far if used properly. This morning I saw a chipmunk on the deck and Henry spotted it from inside the kitchen. Henry ran to the door, laid down and growled but didn’t bark. Perhaps its the start of a new era in détente or maybe Roxie is guiding Henry.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Sep 2014 18:27:04 +0000
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