Farm Fresh Blog

The good thing about making a complete fool out of yourself around here is there is no one around to see you. That's not true - there's an entire forest watching me. In fact right now there's conversation going on between a coyote and a bobcat that goes something like this:

"Did you see her last night?"

"Oh yeah. I laughed so hard I fell out of the tree."

It started innocently enough. I had just returned from the laundromat with a truckload of clean blankets, sleeping bags, comforters, and clothes - six washer loads! I was walking back outside for the last load when I noticed Judge and Jury trotting across the yard, carrying something black. On closer inspection the object in question was my favorite black bra.

Each pup had an arm strap and they were spinning and slingshotting each other back and forth across the yard like a canine Tilt-A-Whirl. Here's my plug for Champion Sports Bras - it held up for a long time.

I started asking the pups to come show me what they had. Judge dropped his end and trotted up with a toothy grin. Jury ran like a spotted ape with the bra.

He dipped under the barbed wire fence and settled down about twenty feet on the other side to chew his new black slingshot.

So close, and yet, so far.

The fence was tightly strung and the closest gate was 300 yards away. Jury was 'just' on the other side, laughing at me. I called. I pleaded. I heard the sound of fabric tearing. I cussed. I cajoled. He was having a grand time, both enjoying his prize and watching my multiple personalities emerge.

Finally good sense settled in and I opted to call all dogs and take off running for the barn. This proved too enticing for the little beast and he came running in with everyone else - without the bra. No problem. I'd just send Lily to retrieve it.

Retrieving underwear out of the pasture is not exactly in Lily's databanks. (Other Half and I are pretty civilized by those standards.) When given orders to slip under the fence and "bring me that!" Lily shot under the wire and began to trot back and forth across the bra looking for something of greater importance. This gave Jury the time he needed to scoop up his prize and trot down the fence line. Judge joined him and another round of Anatolian Tilt-A-Whirl commenced.

I began to plead with Lily to just march right in there, pull rank, and take the damned bra. Apparently possession really is 9/10's of the law because Lily refused to steal their toy. In desperation I tried the Run-To-The-Barn routine again. It worked. Once more the whole crew ran to barn. This time I had the presence of mind to give the little snots an empty water bottle. I called for Dillon and ordered him to go retrieve the bra. He presented me, instead, with a black rubber feed tub.

"NO! Drop that and go get my bra!" I shouted.

"But wouldn't you rather have a bucket? Buckets are so much more fun. "You can run with them. And carry them on your face."

"And carry things inside them."

"NO!!!!!! Go get my bra!"

Slightly hurt at my tone, he dropped the bucket and stared at me.

Lily assessed the situation. Idiot. He's an idiot with a bucket. She slipped under the fence and searched the area for whatever 'something' was so important to me. As she crossed the bra, I yelled "YES!!"

The dog turned around, inspected the dirty, torn bra lying in the briars, raised an eyebrow and said, "This? Really? All that screaming was about this?"

I was just a little bit ashamed of myself. Yes, shamed by a Border Collie. Trust me. It happens more often than I'd like to admit.

So I got the bra back. Another plug for Champion Sports Bras: Despite rocketing Anatolian pups around the barnyard the only real damage was a few tooth holes, which is not too bad for the abuse it took. Dillon forgave me for screaming at me. Jury doesn't care. And Lily, she's staying close for whatever personality emerges when puppies steal mom's underwear.