I pulled up to the house on this cool, rainy September afternoon, and saw something on the ground under our cedar tree. It appeared to be the large white brain of an alien, perfect and clean and bumpy in all the right places.
When I got closer I found that it was actually a very large, slightly oblong head of cabbage. How did it get to this spot under our cedar tree? Well, we have our dog, Esmerelda, to thank for that.
I’m assuming that the cabbage came from our neighbor’s compost pile; although, because it’s in such good shape, it may be that the neighbor just set it on her porch while unloading groceries from the car, and Esmerelda came along and fancied it. Other produce that she has brought home: from the compost pile there have been rotting peaches, smooshy green peppers, objects that I recognize as vegetables but whose names I didn’t catch. Apples dropped from another neighbor’s apple tree are among her favorite delicacies.
And if — heaven of heavens — the neighbors have had a wiener roast, she has been known to bring home empty hot dog wrappers and marshmallow bags, which by the time we have found them she has turned inside out and giving a thorough licking.
Our dog, you see, is part retriever. Not the kind that fetches balls or sticks — that would be silly.
No, she prefers produce. And beer. A few times when our poor neighbors have felt safe in leaving a half-case out on their porch, our 100-pound dog has snatched it up and carried it home in her teeth. One time we came home from church, warmly happy from a morning of worship, and found a half-empty case of beer waiting for us on the front porch. Luckily we have neighbors with a sense of humor.
Less funny are the many times that our pooch has purloined shoes, boots, hand tools, and anything small enough to carry in her mouth as she trots from their house to ours. Also not funny are her attempts to rid their yard of moles. They would (understandably) rather have the mole hills than the holes she leaves when she goes after the little critters.
Sound pretty bad? When my parents’ dog came to visit for a few days I grumbled as I went out to the yard to pick up her messes. It took me a while to wonder why this wasn’t a regular chore for us, considering that, you know, we have a dog. I’m guessing our neighbors could answer that mystery for us.
So, what is our problem, you’re asking? I know just reading this probably makes a lot of people mad. This is the first dog we’ve had that has had these issues, so we are working through it. While we have quite a bit of space to let her explore, Esmerelda’s ideas of boundaries are different than ours. She is getting better, and is a sweet dog, if a bit of a nuisance.
To our neighbors, here is a public apology and a big thank you for being so kind. We can’t tell you how tickled we were when your dog took to running the neighborhood and ours wasn’t the only one … . Anyway, it made us feel like we weren’t the only ones struggling.
Well, I need to stop typing and go apologize to our neighbors yet again; and probably rinse off and return their alien brain/produce. Because, while I sat here inspired to write a column, they are likely hunting their yard for cabbage.
What’s black and white and red all over? This irresponsible dog owner, blushing through the newsprint.
