Last night Other Half and I were enjoying dinner with some friends when I received a text message from my dog. Yes, from my dog! Before I go any further, let me remind you that my mother and her dog, Penny, live in a small house in my front pasture. She raises a little flock of chickens, and from time to time she shares eggs with my dogs. Apparently she also shares her cell phone with my Livestock Guardian Dog:
Title: grandma says i can have all the eggs i want
dear mum,
today i herd a grate commotion at grandma's and montoya running into the barn. when i got to the fence, the chickens was under the ramp screaming, penny and grandma was headed across the pasture with penny barking and grandma screaming like a wild woman, and pore george was running toward grandmas as fast as her legs would carry her . . . but not as fast as the chicken hawk was closing in on george. well, i let out a huge woof woof (huge is the only kind of woof woof i have) and just as the hawk was about to pick up george, he decided he would rather not have chicken for dinner if he had to face me. he was about 3 feet from poor george when he lifted off and disappeared behind the barn. grandma says i'm a good chicken dog and i can have ALL THE EGGS I WANT!
call grandma tomorrow and let her know when i can have my eggs
luv
the brier

For more on Briar and George, read: "I will name him George"