The reality of a dog’s life…a farm dog’s life, that is—is we work at night.

There is much we have to do:

First I go with Mom and Dad to change the water one last time before bed.

Then, when they are inside watch television, I’m outside so I can check out all the places the fox have been.  We have a lot of fox.  A group of fox is called a skulk, beats me why they call a group a skulk. (Mom assures me this a fact. Weird)

Mom always asks me to come in to spend the night; I go in and try to rest. BUT there is so much going on out outside I head back out.  When I’m tired I can always bed down in one of the dog houses.

I’m really always on guard…well, let me clarify I don’t really guard, I sniff out and then I either give chase or I holler for Mom or Dad.

But why holler for Mom or Dad for the common night creatures: fox, owls, cats (Sam and Monkey), mice, deer ….ugh … skunk…those sorts of every day critters that share the farm with us.

Now I do holler when the coyotes come around…so does Mom!

Shudder, shiver…I sure don’t like coyotes!

Mom and I go for a walk around mid-night.  After which I usually come in and crash for a spell.

Then come morning…well, you see, I have to get back out there and see if anything came through while I slept.

As my grandpa would say— I’m a very busy feller!

Boomer