Max woke me up to show me this headline story:
You can click on that headline to get all the deets as the cool kids say, but don’t let your dog read the article.
Before rolling over and going back to sleep I assured the greedy little Furbeast that he would inherit the bulk of our estate which was estimated at $19.47 thanks to the politicians and their taxes.
Anyway, that has nothing to do with today’s story. As usual.
Our neighbor, the one we enjoy annoying by sneaking stuffed hedgehogs into his Nativity Scene, has taken up squirrel feeding as a hobby during these dark days of winter.
The menu consists of peanuts in the shell. He has installed a large hopper-like device that allows free feeding by the squirrels. Of course, the rapacious little beasts are constantly queuing to get the nuts.
All day it is non-stop squirrels running across Max’s back fence to get to the peanut feeder and then traversing said fence in the opposite direction to return to their woodsy domicile.
Did I mention that the sight of squirrels drives Max insane? I mean Jeffrey Dahmer, foaming-at-the-mouth, wear-a-silly-hat-and-storm-the Capitol crazy.
He expresses his displeasure with a horrendously high-pitched yapping bark that mightily offends my eardrums.
He charges the glass doors so hard we fear he will end up with a nose even shorter than now. We don’t want a pug-like Maltese. Not to cast any shade on pugs, mind you.
Suffice to say we are not happy campers at the moment. Our only defense has been to keep the drapes and shutters closed so Attila the Maltese doesn’t spot the fluff-tailed rodents.
Click on the video to see an approximation of what Max looks like when first a squirrel is spotted:
Needless to say, the neighbor is going to find an extra special surprise in this year’s Nativity Scene.
Categories: The Dog From Rancho Cucaracha