Yes, ANOTHER Post

Because sometimes, one post a day just isn't enough to keep you up to date on all the excitement in my life.

So there I was this morning, squeezing the mulberry juicing bag with my hands to wring out the last drops of precious juice, when I heard frantic barking from the dogs. I have learned, over the years, the many barks of the dogs. This was not a "cyclist on the road" or a "squirrel up a tree" bark. This was the "MUST KILL" bark.

At least, Otty was in the gully barking the MUST KILL bark. The other two dogs were barking frenzied, frustrated barks because they were stuck in the garden. Otty is the only one who will jump the high fence separating the garden from the gully. So she was in the brush in the gully all by herself, growling and barking and generally making lots of scary hunting noises. And I could hear . . . something else. Growling. Not good. In fact, very bad. Because those noises were not coming from a chipmunk or a woodchuck. They were coming from a raccoon. And a full-grown raccoon can inflict some serious damage on a dog.

I couldn't get to Otty myself, because of the fencing. And there was no way she'd back away from her prey, even when I called her to come back. I was just about to run along the edge of the fence (in, I might add, my pajamas) to see if there was a way to open it and at least let the other dogs out so they could help her, when A. came out and saw the raccoon. It had gone up a tree. This was good, as it meant that at least it wasn't ripping Otty's face off. A. ran inside as fast as he could on his crippled foot to get his gun, but by the time he got back outside, the coon was gone.

I hope Otty was enough to scare it off, so it doesn't start hanging around and eying the chickens. But if it does come around again, I have no doubt the dogs will tree it again and A. will have a chance to shoot it. It wouldn't be the first time the dogs have saved the chickens from a raccoon. And I'm sure it won't be the last.

Good dogs.