Do you have pets that delight you and surprise you and even sometimes make you sick? 

My two ornery basset hounds are always up to something.  I live on a lake which means that there is no surrounding fence on this property.  The short-legged, long-eared dogs get to run a 90-degree radius around my house and if they stray, a gentle reminder from the “Wireless Pet Containment System” will let them know who is the master of this domain.  Now, some will think that sounds cruel, but it is a much better way to keep them at home.  My dogs need to be able to run around and I‘ve really had enough of chasing after them across country highways while they are on the trail of a rabbit, squirrel, or  “other” scent.

 Now the border has become a bit of a problem, you see, because part of the border is on my neighbor’s property.  My dogs are friendly and maybe even too friendly to some.  The neighbor who may be from old money or something -- this opinion is based entirely on his Jaguar in the driveway and his much younger girl-woman as a companion-- loves my bassets.  I only get uncomfortable when it just seems he knows too much of my business; but that is for another day, because I’ve never talked to this guy in my life.  Makes you wonder though, if there isn’t a spy-cam here somewhere or maybe, just maybe, he can hear everything we’re saying through these walls.  Oh, oh. 

The neighbor, in question, doesn’t seem to mind that the male basset likes to help him rake leaves and uses his grass as a bed for a mid-afternoon nap. The much older female basset is a different matter altogether. She likes to bark and bark and bark at nobody and it seems she enjoys it best in his yard.  I see my neighbor looking out his window, and sometimes, I  imagine him with his mouth contorted in agony; I immediately call, “AMY!!!  AMY!!!”  Nothing.  I‘ll walk over and call down to her, “AMY, AMY, come on, get a treat!  Nothing.  The male comes running, of course.  This is an on-going, every day occurrence.  I am the annoying neighbor.  Boo.

Last night, when it was finally time to come in for the evening, something happened.  Yes, I keep them in their personal little caves at night so they don’t get too cold.  Spoiled-rotten, yes, they are. Amy came in without a problem because it was dark and cold and she can really be very particular about such matters.  Zeus, the large one, wouldn’t come to me and I called and called and he didn’t come.  I found him buried in the leaves under a large oak tree.  I pulled his collar and said, “Let’s go!”  He ran ahead of me and right into his kennel.  I followed slowly in the dark and in the light saw that he had brought in a dead, hairless squirrel and put it on his pillow.  I screamed and said, “No, No, No…get out, Zeus!.”  He picked it up, but first gave me the stink-eye, and walked out.