TerrieMiller.com

When you bring a puppy home from the pound, you hear things like, “Oh, just wait…they really change when they reach a year old!” And you might look forward to that, to having your shoes be safe from chewing and everyone’s communication skills improved to avoid accidents on the carpet.

And then you start hearing things like, “Oh, they really change at two!” And your dog might start slowing down a little (or not..ahem…) and start to play differently at the dog park, or begin barking more when someone tromps up the steps to porch.

So you might be surprised to start hearing, as I did, “Oh, three is when they’re really grown-up!” But it’s true; at three it seems like Laika was really deciding for herself which other doggies she liked, and she was decidedly suddenly against anything that might seem like prelude to something else by boy dogs. She showed that she understood she was not to chase the chickens, and she defers to the cats as much as she can possibly bear.

She’s always been our girl; a member of the family from day one. But the other night, the Leo dog with the shadow of a cat on her chest proved that she’s here to earn her keep as a member of this family.

I woke up to a whirring sound outside and knew right away what is was…raccoons. Our neighbor has seen them heading for our yard, and I’ve been expecting them to be after our chickens. That’s why the chicken coop is within the dog yard…to help deter the bandits.

I put my glasses on and was looking out the window just as I heard the doggie door snap open. In the moonlight, I saw the raccoon right on the other side of the fence, and then the dark shape of Laika streaking out to the perimeter. She gave three quick barks and the raccoon ran away. I expected her to keep barking, but she made a quick circuit of the yard and run back up to the deck and inside…the doggie door snapped open again, and she was inside and back in her bed in a flash. No biggie.

I couldn’t believe it…I expected her to scare the critters away, but not to do it in such a perfunctory manner. Seeing the raccoon that close, I would have expected her to bark much more. Clearly, she’s been doing this all along (and I’ve made forays out to the yard with the flashlight when she has barked more, but never saw anything).

So thank you, Laika Lou the Lion-Hearted, for protecting your sisters and keeping our egg supply safe from the masked bandits. You’re really a grown-up now!