It’s really cold here…or at least I think it’s really cold here. Fuzzy says it’s just right, but he has lots more fur than I do. He has two coats….TWO!!! I have one and sometimes I think it’s really thin.
Mom put a coat on me once, but I found it rather binding. It was red. Last January Hank and I were playing and Hank just ripped it off of me. Then Hank and I took it and ran up and down the yard pulling and shaking it…woweeeee, boy that was fun!
We were getting really into it when the backdoor slammed and out came MOM with a very angry face and a LOUD voice to match.
STOP! She YELLED!
(And I do mean yelled)
Hank and I stopped right then…Hank had a piece of red material hanging out of his mouth and was in mid-prance, as for me I had some of the stuffing (is that what you call it?) caught in my collar and flapping on the top of my head. There were bits and pieces of the coat laying every which way and even up — all over the yard, down the road and well….in our mouths.
I got another coat. It was green. I really didn’t like it…rather binding as they say. When Mom would put it on me I would sit around and pant. Finally Mom said, okay, if you get cold you can go into your dog house. I give up.
But that doesn’t have anything to do with what happened last night. I just wanted to tell you why I don’t have a coat.
We always get to come in and out of the house as long as Mom is home. Dad doesn’t let us in the house. He will let us into the tractor shed, the shop, the barn and any other place, but… Nope, nope, Dogs don’t belong in the house, he says.
But whenever we are in he always pets us and lets us lay at his feet, so I think he sends mixed messages.
Anyway…the last two nights have been cold, dark and cold, but the sky has been just loaded with stars! Crisp clear and loaded with sparkly winking stars. Beautiful!
It was cold, but not so cold I wanted to stay in the dog house. Fuzzy was sitting outside on the back step, so I lay next to my dog house and we talked.
We sit around lots in the daytime and wait for Lucky the Squirrel. He said his name is that because we can’t catch him.
Lucky also has a couple of friends, but we haven’t met them so far. We’ve seen them but we’ve only met Lucky.
What happens is when we see Lucky run very fast across the road from the tractor shed to the light pole by the shop we run really fast barking the whole time.
It’s great fun!
Even Lucky says it’s fun for him also.
We never catch Lucky…I don’t know what we would do if we did….Fuzzy and I have talked about it and we really don’t want to catch Lucky. We just like running and barking and TRYING to catch him.
Lucky’s friends stay out by the ditches and over in the wood pile. (They sure are making a mess of the wood pile.)
As we were talking I noticed that the sky sure was beautiful. It was so beautiful I thought I would lift my nose and sing a sweet song to the sky, when suddenly Fuzzy took off barking down the drive way toward the barn and the grain bins and the hay stack.
He sure can be fast when he wants too.
I caught up to him right at the grain bins when he stopped short. This caused me to just about bonk into him, but I didn’t— I missed him, but still…
“What’s up, Fuzzy? Is Lucky out running around? Did I miss him? What’s happening?”
“Look!” Fuzzy said….
So I looked…
WOW! That was the biggest sort of cat I have ever seen in my life!!!
I guess it is a cat….only it didn’t look like a real cat it had a busy tail and a mask around its eyes.
“Whhhhattt is it, Fuzzy?”
“Why its Robbie the Raccoon; let me introduce you two.”
“Robbie this is Boomer, Boomer this is Robbie.”
Robbie stuck out his little paw and tried to shake hands with me. Then he did a sort of chitter sound.
After all that he smiled a big smile and asked if we wanted to go on an adventure.
An adventure, both of my ears perked up and my tail end started wagging as fast it as would go.
Just then Dad came out of the house to go check on something in his shop and Robbie ran off.
I watched him go. I was really sad.
“He’ll be back”, Fuzzy consoled me. “He’ll be back, you just wait and see.”
We trotted on back to the shop and whined at the door until Dad let us in.
I can hardly wait until Robbie the Raccoon comes back. An adventure sounds, well, just neat!