A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Wonderful   Outstanding Win!


That was the bestest idea ever!  Just as the sun started setting we worked our way up to the Sage Brush Hill, walking up the farm road past the horse pasture, the equipment storage area, onto the cement ditch road, right down into the pond, and the little bridge that leads you right up to the top of Sagebrush Hill.

We walked as silently as hooves and paws can go.  Once on top I took the lead moving steady, but stealthily into the dense jungle of Rabbit Brush, Sage Brush and Chico’s….we could hear those hounds rough housing and joking around laughing and chuckling over something they considered funny.

Way over on the Flat Lands a lonesome Coyote called.  Followed by another Coyote then a chorus of coyotes.


“Push them toward the Flats,” Romeo whispered.  “Don’t let any of them turn back…we must get them into Coyote Country so the Coyotes will unknowingly help push them over the edge and into the Rubidoux Canyon country.

We all nodded our heads in agreement.

Then we were there….Romeo took over the lead crashing through the last of the Chico Brush; we all followed him.

“Blood!” Romeo screamed, “I am hungry I want BLOOD!”

Then we were all there demanding blood for supper and we wanted it NOW!

Bruiser took one look at Romeo and screamed “TICKS! A WHOLE HERD OF TICKS!”


Tony had been laying on his back giving himself a good back scratching when Bruiser screamed TICKS, trying to fling himself upright again he twisted himself right into Rocky’s massive jaws dripping saliva!

“RUN!” Tony screamed.  “Ticks get caught in your fur and you can never get rid of them!”

Finally Tony was able to stand up; skedaddling as quickly as he could.  Even at that he was the last one of the mangy stray dogs to leave their compound.

We all gave chase…down the Sage Brush Hill we flew with them high-tailing it before us.

Then we arrived at the edge of the Flat Lands where we stopped, since the dust cloud coming off the feet of the fleeing scraggly dogs was so thick we couldn’t see anything.


“Let’s head home.”  Houston said.   “No matter what happens now Bruiser and his gang are deep in the middle of coyote country; they won’t last long there.  Either they make it through and head into Rubidoux canyon or….” Her voice trailed off.

I parted way, with everyone, at the end of the cement ditch….Romeo, Rocky, Houston, Black Dog, Shiloh and Etta heading back to their part of the farm.  Houston was in a bit of hurry to get home, because her human was coming to get her and she didn’t want to be late.

Etta and Shiloh wanted to get back and get a good nice rest because tomorrow they were going into the woods.


As for Black Dog…Rocky gently took her collar in his teeth and turned her toward her farm… “Come on Black Dog, we are going to find you a tiara, I think from this day forward your name is Black Beauty Dog.”

I paused at the corner of the cement ditch and the dirt ditch listening to everyone’s plans for the coming day.  Romeo paused with me.

“Thanks’, Rome!” I put up my paw and high-fived his offered hoof! “You and Red really came to the rescue. The farm is safe again because of you and Red!”


With a flip of his and a smile on his lips Romeo turned on a dime flung his tail in the air and took off running.


HUH!?  Did that horse just fart at me?

Sherlock Boomer



A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

The Ending Next to the Ending


While Houston was laughing and rolling in the dirt. Etta and Shiloh, the two hunting hounds came up followed by Romeo, the Pleasure horse and Red the Mule.

When they saw Rocky and I everyone burst out laughing and chuckling and hew hawing and braying and well, in general making fun of us.

Romeo, the pleasure horse and Red, the mule walked over to see what all the laughing and rolling around in the dirt was about.  Even the chickens and Willow the cat showed up.

There Rocky and I sat…a Dragon and a Bumble Bee.  Also, twirling around us was Black Dog with the most beautiful smile on her face ever.

“What’s all the fuss?” Romeo asked.

“Oh, Romeo!  I have come up with the perfect way to save the farm, the chickens and Willow.  Rocky and Boomer are going to be our heroes and go after those mean wild dogs.  I thought it would be perfect to dress them up as something so mean and strong so the wild dogs would take one look and run away yipping.”  Black Dog tripped and danced and pranced around.  If we could have put a little crown on her head she would make the perfect fairy-tale dog princess.

Romeo and Red just stared at Rocky and I.

Then I have to hand it to them, they did NOT laugh-out-loud at all.

Red turned his head toward Romeo and they had a sorta snicker whisper type of conversation; after which both turn tail and walked off.

“I’m taking this off,” Rocky announced “And if you have any smarts you will too, Boomer.”

Ripping off his costume Rocky came over and helped me get out of mine.  I kept getting my head stuck in the dragon hat.

About this time Willow, who had left us earlier, scampered into our area of the back yard yowling hysterically!


With that everyone dashed to the hen yard just in time to see Bruiser and three other dogs chasing the hens into the tiny door of the chicken house!

As we galloped closer we also saw Romeo and Red heading toward the same chicken house and Bruiser and his gang.

Now there is something rather alarming about equines running right at you…I mean that’s a lot of horse flesh pounding its way to you with four shiny hooves per equine ready to rear up and batter the enemy to death.

One of Bruiser’s gang saw the horse and mule coming sounded the alarm, whereby the nasty group of dogs turned as one and slithered under the corral poles, and scattered like buck shot, into the horse pasture.  We watched them race through the old orchard and disappear over the edge of the hill.

Everyone stood there winded and relieved.

“Okay,” said Red…”It’s now time to get serious about this pack of mangy dogs.   Wait here.  I have idea.  We will get rid of these creatures once and for all.”  With that he was gone.

We all waited there.

Right there.

Then Red was back.  After we all got ready he explained how Romeo would go with us (as the leader of the pack)  and he would stay at the farm yard to protect Willow and the chickens we all shook paws and hooves and headed out.


Red armed us with a most unusual set of weapons….

tick-2(Black Dog)

the ability to take blood.


There is nothing more frightening to animals that live in the wild than TICKS!


Ticks get on you, burrow down into your fur and suck the blood right out of you!


They hang on and hang on until there is nothing left of you and you….


get sick and die!


We were heading into battle dressed as TICKS!


“If that doesn’t scare the fur off their back legs, put a fire under their tails, and run them clear off the farm and into the Rubidoux Canyon and beyond. I’ll be a monkey’s Uncle.”


Red said.  “Now get up to the Sage Brush Hill and give them the scare of their mangy doggie lives!”




A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Twelve


We all laid down on the farm road next to the grain bins, pointing our noses toward the southwest part of the farm.

“We GOT to come up with a plan!” I got up and padded toward the canal.  I’ll be back in a second I need a drink of water.  With that I got up and left the group.

Coming back a little later I ran into all of them coming toward me: “We need water also.”  Houston explained.

I padded back to my look out point and sat down.  We need SOMETHING that will run the pack off the farm, something so big and mean and so scary Bruiser and his gang will pack up and head on down into the canyon.

I was tired by all this excitement so I put my head down on my paws and started dozing.  I was just about to enter into a really nice dream when everyone came back all loud and dripping water off their snouts.

So much for rest.

“I have an idea! I HAVE AN IDEA!”  Black Dog bounced along.  “I have a very good idea!”

“Okay! Okay!  I give.”  I got up and sat on my haunches.

“I think you and Rocky need to dress-up in a disguise, burst into their camp, and scare them so bad they run barking and yipping off the farm!  Then you and Rocky can chase them clear to the edge of the farm.” Black Dog bounced around and twirled scattered dust here and there.

“Oh, yes! You can be just lovely.  I bet we could find some Princess clothes from one of the little girls.  You could be PRINCESSES!  Really pretty princesses all dressed in pink and purple and….”

“BLACK DOG!” Rocky barked!  “SLOW DOWN! No one is going to a princess…not one of those dogs up there would be afraid of a princess, ever!”  Rocky gave Black Dog a most disgusted look.

“Rocky,” Houston admonished, “she is just a young dog.  Pretty things make young girls feel nice.  Black Dog has never really been involved in a dog fight of any kind.   You are just tired and worried.”

Houston sat down by Black Dog and put her paw on Black Dogs paw.

“Well,” Rocky flopped down.  “Okay, maybe we could try a disguise.  BUT NOT a princess outfit!”

I looked up at the sky and saw the sun was about up.  “Maybe we had all better head in.  The sun is coming and I think the farm is safe for another night.  We will have to talk about this later.”  I got up and started walking past the hay stack yard heading back toward the house.

“OKAY! See Ya soon!” Black Dog called as they are worked their way over the alfalfa field into the last year’s corn field then soon to be at their house.

“I’ll get your costumes ready!”  She yipped.

Later that morning after a really nice breakfast of my last night’s supper, I loped on over to the other house.  I’m not real fond of wearing coats in winter—mom makes me, she says my fur is just too thin to be outside in zero weather—but I will do it.  Grudgingly. But I do it.  I don’t try to take it off or scape it off, like I used to when I was younger, I just let her put it on me and endure.

When I got there everyone had come up with two costumes…one for Rocky and one for me.


They have GOT to kidding!

A dragon!  ME!?

“YES! A dragon!  Dragons are ever so very dangerous!  They breathe fire and have scales and everything!”  Black Dog enthused.


“Well, look at me.”  Rocky growled.  “A bee?!?!”

“OH! YES! A lovely wonderful bumbly bee!  You can zip around on your wings and when something or someone, namely those bad mean dogs, you can whip your stinger out and zap them!”

Black Dog raised up on her tip-toes and pranced around and around.  Then she stood up on her back legs and dance upright like a human.


“Oh you are just so wonderful!  I’m sure all those other dogs will run off in terror!  I’m sure they are going to be afraid of you just like the wicked old mean witch in Sleeping Beauty turned into a dreadful dragon and was sliced to death by the prince!”  Black Dog hummed and purred as she twirled around and around.


Over in the corner…way over in the corner underneath the big old shade tree I saw Houston rolling around in the dirt LAUGHING!!!

Rocky and I just stood there looking at each other in horror!



A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Eleven

The shadows of the night were now heavy upon the mysterious and strange land of Sage Brush Hill.  For some reason, or other, Sage Brush Hill doesn’t look like it did in the daytime.  Every brush, weed and rock took on a sinister twist, making my heart (now in my stomach) pound even harder and hardest.


Rocky and I slunk along, he was able to slink lots better than me…his black coat blended nicely into the shadows of the each and every brush we crept under…then as we dashed into the open making our way to another brush, rock or fallen tree he just looked like a dark something moving along.


Now for ME.  I’m white!  Mostly white I have some brown and black spots, but not enough to cover me up!  I gave a HUGE thanks there wasn’t a moon out.  Mom and I like to walk in the moonlight and Mom always leans down and pets me telling me my white fur sparkles just like snow in the sunshine.

Sparkling fur right now would NOT be a good thing.


Suddenly a smell drifted on the wind and right into my nose!  My ears flew up (as far as a beagles ears can go), my fur on my back rose, my tail stiffened into a point.  By the time all that took, Rocky was right by me.

Rocky stiffened; I heard him let out a low, low growl.

Just about that time the evening requiem the coyotes always sing rolled over the hills and flatlands.

“Those snarly coyotes are singing again, Boss!  Let’s join them!” One of Bruiser’s wild dogs said.  With that they all lifted their noses into the wind and sent out long loud oodley sounds full of yips and barks and howls.

Rocky and I jumped backwards 100 feet.  We must have been about IN the wild dog’s camp!

Speeding back where we had come from, not bothering to move through the cover of darkness Rocky and I galloped as fast as we could using the sound of the coyotes and the wild dogs to cover our footfalls.

We didn’t linger or stop or anything.  We hit the farm road, ran down the cement ditch, crossed over the dirt ditch and headed across last year’s pinto bean field to MY HOUSE!

Once there we ran into Houston and Black Dog standing guard by the grain bins.

“I take you found them,” Houston commented, as we drew up huffing and panting.


“Yes, coyotes, pant, pant, slobber, drool, pant, and the whole pack of wild dogs.”  Rocky collapsed and rolled onto his back. Giving himself a good rub down on the dirt he got up and shook everything off flinging little bits of dirt and leaves and stuff into our faces.

“You sure look sweaty,” Black Dog observed. “Are they following you?”


Rocky and I jumped up (I was just lying on the ground panting) and flung our bodies into fight mode facing the southwest.


“Whew! No, they aren’t, Black Dog!” I told her. “Thank Heavens!  There are way too many for just Rocky and I to handle.”

“Too many what?” Black Dog turned her pretty little face toward me, her deep brown eyes covered in thick black eyelashes blinked charmingly at me, as she asked her question.

“Too many dogs and too many coyotes for just Rocky and I to fight by ourselves.” I explained to her.

‘Well, Houston and I can help.” She innocently replied.


“Black Dog.”  Houston gently put her paw on Black Dogs shoulder.  “Honey, you are just a young pup, and you are a Beauty, but dog fights are NOT appealing things EVER!  And dog and coyote fights are even uglier.”

“oh —- ugly,  Shudder.  Whatever are we going to do?”  Black Dog scooted closer to Houston.

“That” said Rocky, “is the $25 question.”





A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Ten

Rocky and I took off down the Apricot road, our paws kicking up little puffs of dust as we padded along.  Houston went with us…’just as far as the apricot tree’.  She thought she better stay with the girls to stake out the places.  There are actually Two Places…their part of the farm and my house.

While we worked our way past the horse pasture, then the old orchard getting closer and closer to the apricot tree; Rocky, Houston and I brainstormed what to do.

Once at the tree we came to the conclusion that Houston was to go back; pick up Black Dog and head over to my house to make sure nothing happens to Min-Min cat, or Sammy (if Sammy was outside. Sammy is a.nc.i.e.n.t now…17 years old and really doesn’t like to go outside much anymore.  Which suits Mom just fine.  She would much rather have a Sammy, then not have a Sammy.)

Etta and Shiloh were to stay at my Oldest Sister part of the farm and guard Willow, Twisty and Bandit Cat, Romeo, the horse, and Red the Mule.

Then Rocky and I were to travel over to the Coyote Hill, on to the Back Forty, drop down onto the Flats (where the Coyotes Live), and if nothing there, then head up the Sage Brush Hill, come back down around the pond and go to the Upper End.

If we find where the mangy lot of stray dogs are staying we will stake out an observation point in the brush or rocks or old trees.

Once we get that figured out we will gather as much knowledge as we can.

Then we will slip away and come back to Rocky’s part of the farm and put our heads together for a solution.

We decided that Rocky and I just aren’t enough to fight off a pack of wild dogs.


We kept on keeping on padding our way around all the likely places the riff-raff pack of dogs might be…first stop Coyote Hill.

Nothing there…lots of Coyote Tracks, owl droppings, rabbit holes, Badger holes…I gave the Badger Holes a wide, wide berth…I never ever want to get mixed up with a Badger!  Ever!  Rocky said he had never even seen a badger; he got all excited sniffing the scent of one hole.

“Come away from there, Rocky!” I yelled at him.  Those critters are dan….”

Just as I was about to say the word dangerous a LIVE Badger stuck his nose, then whole face out of the hole and gave a huge lunge at Rocky growling the whole time.

Rocky jumped backwards, a look of total surprise on his face, squealed as loud as the Badger was growling, and scrambled up the slope where I was standing.

“WHAT WAS THAT?”  Rocky panted, drool and slobbers dripping off his muzzle.

“A Badger!” I replied.  “The meanest animal on the place.”

Rocky shook his massive head sending drool flying every which way. “Let’s keep moving, that vicious little thing can keep his side of the hill.”


We took off for the Fire Break Road and wound our way down, down, down into the Flat Lands — were the coyotes live.

Rocky was walking merrily along, but my heart was pounding and flipping around in my stomach.  Yes, my heart had slid right out of its very wonderful spot, where it was protected by my breast bone, right into my stomach giving me a tremendous stomach ache that reflected each heartbeat with each step of my paws.

It was getting along evening, by this time, I pushed myself into the lead—Rocky had never been up this far on the farm before and I had—“Shhh,” I whispered to Rocky.  We stopped and perked up our ears.  Sure enough it was COYOTES!

“Coyotes!” Rocky whined.


Yep, coyotes, somewhere over there in the yonder singing their evening dirge.  I sat down.  Rocky sat down by me listening to their mournful howls.


Giving Rocky a come on paw, we got up slunk down to our bellies and slowly made our way into the road leading to the corner of the Back Forty.  I really wanted to make our way around this coyote world and start checking out the Sage Brush Hill.  My thoughts are the wild dogs will NOT be where the coyotes are.

We slunk along in a decidedly undoglike fashion, made a mad dash down the four-wheeler road Mom and Dad had been using while fixing fence— keeping in cover of the  tall grass, the rabbit brush, and occasional Sagebrush.


Finally we made it to Sagebrush Hill.  I had just been up here the other day so I was very familiar with the place.  Taking the lead again I worked our way around and around heading for the west side of the top where I knew an old coyote den was hidden in some fallen down trees.

My very sensitive beagle nose is telling me we are getting close…very close.


A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Nine


The next day Rocky came over for a visit. Well, actually his mom, my oldest sister, came over for a visit and she brought Rocky, so he could visit with me.


While the people folks were inside Rocky and I started patrolling the farm yard and the barn yard and even clear out by the hay stack yard.  We sniffed here and there. He lifted a leg, I lifted mine right behind him.  (This is MY farm, you see.  I held myself back a little bit just so I didn’t hurt Rocky’s feelings, waited until he lifted a leg, let the stream fly and then moved one.

Then I gave his puddle a sniff or two, walked up to the exact perfect spot and placed MY stream right over his. Perfect.  Still my farm.)

Well, anyway we sniffed and peed until we got tired and settled down by the grain bins, in the road, in the warm late/early winter sunshine.

“You see any more of those scraggly packed-up dogs?”  Rocky asked me.

“No, but I did smell them on the wind.  A buck ran through the farm, all the way to the Upper End.  He was terrified.  I could smell dog, after he ran by.  Smelled just like Bruiser and Tony and the other mangy dogs.”

“This doesn’t sound good for the farm, Boomer” Rocky had laid his head down by this time; when he talked he had to peer over his paws at me.

We sat there for a spell, Rocky resting his massive Rottweiler head on his paws and me stretching out in the soft dirt so the sun could warm every bone in my body.


We were both sorta snoozing when Houston barreled into the both of us!

“Get UP!” She woofed at us.  “GET UP!  The pack dogs are in our yard trying to kill our Mom’s Chickens.”


Rocky and I bounded awake and headed after Houston even though the sleep was still in our brains.

As we got closer and closer to Rocky and Houston’s yard we could hear all sorts of commotion.

Dogs barking, Red, the mule baying, Romeo, Shannon’s pleasure horse screaming and dust everywhere.

Dust full of feathers!

“Gear up, Little Buddy!” It looks like Bruiser and his thugs are back!”

Rocky, Houston, and I waded into the ruckus. Growling and flinging mangy stray dogs every which way.

Suddenly Tony barked… “I’m heading out!  You can stay if you want, Bruiser, but I’m quitting this job!”  With that he picked up his paws and dashed for the three-strand barb-wired gate, slithered under it and was GONE!  Black Dog right on his tail.  Once you get Black Dog a going she doesn’t know how to stop!

“SLOW DOWN! Black Dog!” Don’t follow him or they will attack you!  Black Dog stopped and turned around and looked back at us!

Suddenly Bruiser and the rest of his scraggy pack, made it under the three strand barbed-wire gate and plowed right over her!  We all watched as she turned this way and that way, then actually did a drop and roll as the pack pushed on by her.


Etta and Shiloh rushed to her and nosed her back into a standing position. I walked around and checked out the chickens, the equines and Willow the cat.

“All present and accounted for”, I bayed to everyone.  “We made it in the nick of time!

Back on the lawn everyone sat down and gave a huge collective sigh of relief.  “The pack is gone.”

“They are got now, but we can’t count of them staying gone.  There is just too much food here and they are thugs who will take whatever they want.

I walked around then gave myself a little shake.  “I think it’s time we head to the Back Forty, or the Upper End, or the Coyote Hill, or wherever these dogs are hanging out and give them a bruising they will never forget!” I growled. “If we don’t, you can count on the fact they WILL be back and back, and back until all the chickens are gone and Willow Cat is no more!”

Rocky sat down and gave me a very serious look.  Just how do you expect to do this, Boomer?  They get one whiff of us coming and they will either attack us or slink off into the great unknown.”

“I’m not sure, Rocky, but I do know we must do something, or the farm and everyone that lives on it isn’t safe!”

Rocky and I looked at each other… we both understood this could be a violent end.

A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Eight

I sat down with a huff. Then I noticed Dad had stopped walking toward the four-wheelers and was looking at the alfalfa field.

“Well, look at that,” he exclaimed “I do believe we have a visitor.”

Mom and I both turned our heads to look at Alfalfa Field.


“Wow!  Look at that!” Mom said amazed.  “He is beautiful!”

“He is also running like he is being chased, “replied Dad.

I stood clear up on my seat, on the four-wheeler, and gave several eager whines.

“Shhhh,” Mom sat down beside me and took out her camera.  “Shhh Boomer.”


“He sure acts like he is being chased,” Dad observed.  “That isn’t good…wonder what spooked him so much.”

Mom just kept taking photos.

Dad walked over to a large boulder and stood on it.


I raised my nose to the wind: I could smell fear, panic, and terror, plus deer, male deer. Male deer smells ever so much different than female deer.


We all watched as he fled through the field,


into the next field and bounded into the Upper End, where he soon lost himself in the Rabbit Brush.

Dad climbed down and walked back to the four-wheelers.  “Well, guess we might as well head back home, maybe we will run across whatever was chasing that buck!”

It just about that time I caught the scent of those STRAY DOGS: Bruiser and his gang!

I started whining…”Stray Dogs Mom, Dad! Stray Dogs were chasing the buck!”

But, as you and I well know…people don’t speak Beagle.

Mom and Dad roared their four-wheelers into life and we headed home.

As for me…I kept a look out and nose out, on the way back.  I needed to know where that pack was and what they were doing!

A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Seven

I looked back a couple of times, but Dad and Mom were busy and well…there were things I needed to find out and stuff to do.  I kicked my beagle body into high gear and galloped up the last turn, of the slope and headed into the depths of Sage Brush Hill.


I checked out everything I could find on Sage Brush Hill, the old rotten logs on the long-time dead Chinese Elm tree, the spot where the cows like to bed down in the winter…I laid myself down in that spot and gave a huge sigh—it felt all warm and comfy, not a breeze or a drift of a chill could reach a body that was laying here…got up and made my way to the edge of the drain ditch, sniffed around there a good while, trotted back up to the tippy top, top and pointed my nose in the direction of where Mom and Dad were working.

They were still there, but they had both started working together heading BACK toward the north side of the place.  Looks like they decided the west side was the side that needed their attention.


They won’t be missing me anytime soon.

Back I went…this time working my way into the thicket of the Sage Brush…I was just getting a bead on a nice lead when I heard…

HUH!  That’s Mom calling me.

Then I heard the four-wheeler start up!

WOW!  They are getting ready to head out!  I gave up the thread of a very interesting trail and dashed to the top of the Sage Brush Hill…I stood at the top and raised my voice in a long-loud wail of a howl!  I gave it all the volume I could.  My howl went on and on and on.

Good!  Dad heard me and turned off his four-wheeler.

Now Mom has her four-wheeler off.

I picked up my paws and made a HUGE dash, in a straight line down the Sage Brush Hill. No trotting around the four-wheeler road in half-circles until I got down — I went straight as an arrow right up to Mom and Dad.

“Geez, look at Boomer come,” Dad announced.  “The grass is so tall you can only see it parting as he comes toward us.”

Then I was there.  Panting happily as Mom reached down and picked me up and put me on the four-wheeler behind her.

“You silly little dog,” she said as she patted me on the belly.

I whapped my tail on the back of my four-wheeler seat, in happy agreement.

With that we were zipping along on the road leading to the cattail swamp…Dad pushing the grasses out the way and Mom and I coming right along behind him.

I was very glad I didn’t have to follow on my own two legs behind them I don’t think I could have made it through the grass, and I don’t think I could have even seen or smelled my way toward wherever we were going.

Suddenly Dad stopped.

Then Mom stopped.  I peeked my head around Mom and saw Dad was off looking at the fence.


“Cut wires!”  He announced.

Mom got off and started loading up all the fencing equipment they were going to need to put back THREE strands of cut wires.

“Stay” she pointed at me. “Stay right there.  This is NOT a place for you to get out and wander around!”

So I stayed.

Then I got bored.


I mean this is really boring just sitting here.  I sat up, yawned, gave myself a good scratching on the belly and the side.

I looked over at Mom and Dad…backs turned, looks like some straining pulling on wires and things…I very carefully put one paw onto the seat of Mom’s four-wheeler.

(You do realize this (Mom’s)  four-wheeler is also MY four-wheeler, don’t you?)

So since this is also MY four-wheeler I then put my back paw a little closer to the seat, now I am bunching up my muscles to get myself down….

“BOOMER!  You get back up there and stay!  We are just about done here!”

MOM yelled at me





A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Six

The next morning Dad, Mom, and I headed out to check the fences along the south west end of the farm.  We loaded up on her four-wheeler…pliers, fence stretchers…wire…No Hunting signs and other STUFF!
You see it’s just about time for BIRD HUNTING SEASON.  Meaning Pheasant Hunting.  There always seems to be some desperate sorta soul who just MUST get over that there fence to see if a Nye of Pheasants are living under the sagebrush or the rabbit brush or the old dead tree…or, well, you get the picture.

And while they are at it they might as well look for a Covey of Quail or two.


As for me I’m heading up to gather the news.  I have a feeling there is lots of activity up there in the animal world…the mice and the squirrels are saving seeds and nuts for the winter, the badgers are busy, the deer should be checking out new places to bed down, since the corn is now gone.  Lots of information out there if you know where to smell it!

Off we went.  The day was warm and lovely, one of those perfect fall days, although the wind moving past the four-wheeler was a little on the cool side I just pushed myself up close to Mom, put my head through her driving arm and we sped along.

Dad led and Mom followed, sometimes she had to stop and take a photo or two, but that was okay for me…when we stop Dad gets further ahead and the dust from his four-wheeler gets further ahead also.


Then we were there at the Upper End, making the turn to go up to the Gravel Point, but we didn’t Dad took us over the dam over the little pond, up into the Sage Brush Hill around the edge of the Sage Brush Hill, down the Sage Brush Hill and into the Back Forty, making a trail through all the tall, tall grass onto COYOTE LAND!


We have to go onto COYOTE LAND, because that is where the corner of our farm meets the corner of the other farm and the west fence backs up to the farm on the west side.

Dad says we need to start here because one of the neighbors said there was a Quail Hunting Club coming out to shoot on one of the farms bordering one of the farms next to ours.  It’s nothing to slip through one fence, then onto another fence when something really enticing is flying/running onto the next fenced off area.

Dad’s four-wheeler came to a stop.

Then Mom and I rolled up and stopped.

Mom reached back and picked me up and put me on the ground.  Mom won’t let me jump up or down anymore.  I blew out my knee twice doing that, so now I have to WAIT…sit still…WAIT…for Mom to walk behind the four-wheeler and pick me up and put me down.  The second she puts me down, though, I’m moving around the area my nose to the ground.

I don’t go far at first, I need to see where Mom and Dad are going, hover a little bit with them to see how long it’s going to take them to do whatever it is they are wanting to do. Once I get that figured out I’m hot on the trail of NEWS!


I watched Dad and Mom start walking down the fence line—Mom down the west side and Dad down the south side…I thought seriously about going with Mom, but walking behind just looking for  cut wires, pulled wires, hanging loose wire,  wiring up a random NO HUNTING sign now and again seemed rather dull.

My nose started sniffing and sniffing taking me on a track back up a ways onto the Sage Brush Hill, then it veered over toward the edge where a patch of Cotton Wood trees grew…I got to the trees and looked up. Dad was coming closer to me…my eyes scanned the west fence line and saw Mom walking back toward her four-wheeler.


It looks like I still have time to check more things out…Dad is still working his way back up the Sage Brush Hill and Mom is picking up something off her four-wheeler and heading toward Dad.


Good!  I put my nose back onto the trail I was following and headed straight into the Sage Brush on Sage Brush Hill.


A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Five

We beat the pack of scruffy mangy dogs to Houston’s home and ran skidding into the Rocky the Rottweiler as he was making his patrol around the chicken house.
“WHOA! What’s the hurry?”  Rocky’s slow drawl brought us to a halt.

“A (pant pant) pack of (pant pant) wild dogs!”  I sputtered.


“Hungry”…panted Houston.  “We led them here for food.”

“FOOD!”  Rocky stared at Houston. “You got to be kidding!”

“No time for this” I woofed at Rocky…”They are here!”

Rocky and I ran to the wire gate growling and snarling all the way. We skidded to a stop just as the pack skidded to a stop. All of us looking through the wire gate with bristles on our backs and raised upper lips.

Just as we arrived at the gate Shiloh, Etta, and Black Dog ran around the garage bristles on their backs and howls in their throats.

There we were a band of friends—Shiloh, Etta, Black Dog, Houston, Rocky and myself; six dogs on one side of the wire gate.   On the other side four rough and tough wild dogs!

Rocky stepped forward: “What ya doing here, Bruiser?  I thought you scrammed out here ages ago?”

“I did, but I’m back now! Move your hide and all your fluffy little house dogs outa the way…we are coming over.  Those chickens dust bathing over there look like just the right thing to fill our very empty stomachs.” Bruiser raised his paw and pushed down on one of the wires on the wire gate.

Rocky and I rushed the wire gate—“Get out of here you stray pack of mangy dogs!” I howled.

“Run you thugs of the brush.” Rocky barked. “RUN!”

A massive bull-dog faced thug rushed up behind Bruiser and barked wildly at Rocky and I….”Let me at them, Boss!  One lick from me and they will be toast!”


“Slow down, Tony. We need a little plan here.  Maybe it isn’t a chicken dinner we want, but a CAT supper!”  Bruiser suddenly jumped up and skimmed over the top of the wire gate and took off running toward Willow Kitty!


Willow, who was sitting on the sill, of one of the back porch windows, squealed loudly, jumped down and dashed into the house straight through the dog door, Bruiser right behind him.

Just as suddenly we heard a huge Yell inside the house, then we saw the back door sorta bow out and a huge thud sound.

Then the back door opened and Bruiser barreled out with Jason right behind them, “GET OUT OF HERE!” 

He reached over to get a shovel leaning against the house when he saw all of us in a standstill guarding the wire gate and the pack of stray dogs in attack mode on the other side.

Bruiser jumped back over the wire gate and took off running toward the Apricot tree and the machine equipment, the rest of his pack looked a little stunned as he streaked passed.  Then one them turned back to us and saw Jason was coming with a shot gun… “RUN! Someone in the pack barked RUN!”


With the pack of stray dogs gone and Rocky and his group of girls safely back in their house, I grabbed a ride back to my house with Jason on his four-wheeler.  “No sense hanging around on the farm with those wild dogs out there. Get on Boomer, I’ll see you home.” He said picking me up and tossing me onto the back of the four-wheeler.