The last on the yard dog that is not our yard dog

Being someone who is more than willing to give credit where credit is due, I have to give ole Snot, the yard dog who is not our yard dog, credit for being a good sniffer snakes. I can’t imagine how she can sniff a snake with all that congestion, but she can.

She did it last week.

She had the longest snake I think I’ve ever seen. I think it was a red corn snake, but it was dark and the flashlight beam reflected just about its white belly.

The old dog barked well, and in the crape myrtle beside the kitchen porch this snake slowly but surely slithered until it was out of reach, lying among the upper branches.

Score one for Snot.

She’s been busy the past few weeks. Besides charming snakes, she is also in the business of excavation after drugging bleached bones large enough to have come out of a dinosaur. Guess she found the remains of a long-extinct cow somewhere in the pasture on the other side of the woods.

I honestly have no idea when she went exploring because she very rarely leaves the porch or the sprawling spot in the yard where she basks in the sun. But she was chomping on a big Bone Sunday and this is the fourth or fifth she’s chosen out of all the places where the Bone Buffet is.

Although I’ve never seen her walk out of our yard alone, she loves to walk and would happily hike with my wife, Danny, down the dusty dirt road and back every afternoon.

Last Sunday afternoon, however, she decided she wanted to help me mow the front field and walked around and around following my zero turn before settling at a spot right in the middle of the field from where she watched me go around and around until she finally had to get up and get out of my way or get mowed with the grass.

As with snakes, she’s not very fond of cats, so the strays that had been dropped off at our house, like Snot was, moved up the road to the next house or two and the ole gal had to eating cat food instead of dog food for a few weeks, but that seemed to suit him just fine.

She also doesn’t like the resident armadillo and I wish she would catch it and get rid of it. It only appears when we’re not on the move, so all we see of it are the holes in the yard where it’s been looking for roots. Danny laid eyes on it once I think and said it was huge.

Snot’s opinion of skunks is also unfavorable, but to my knowledge she hasn’t come into close contact with the rear of one yet. His time has come I’m afraid.

As for our two little chihuahuas, she acts like the three of them grew up together. She was never aggressive towards them, even at first when they were very loud and barking in their claim of territory up front. The pecking order, you know, and they both think they dominate the roost.

Since arriving at our house, when it appeared that she had been hit in the head by a horse or a cow, Snot had paid no attention to the pasture full of cows across the street. Offsite, out of mind I guess applies to dogs as well as humans.

Last week, however, as she and Danny were walking through the dust, she suddenly realized that she might like to hunt a cow or two. Most dogs do, but I’m not sure she can take another kick to the head. The last literally knocked out Snot, hence the name.

Back to giving credit where credit is due, Snot is a very kind and gentle dog who thrives on attention. She wants us to rub her stomach, scratch her ears and pat her on the back. That’s why I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want their dog back. Danny says she thinks the real owners were abusive. I guess she’s right. Throwing a dog is abusive in itself.

I wish she would let the cats be, and maybe she wouldn’t do all that sneezing stuff when she’s standing right next to me.

Especially when I have shorts!