If you haven't had a chance you should check out Melanie Sherman's cousin Karen's blog http://notvoneyear.blogspot.com/. Work warning, do NOT attempt to read this blog while at work unless you have an office and can close the door because you will be howling with laughter and if you're a cube rat your fellow rats will start to wonder about you...well more then they already do.
Anyway - Karen's been regaling her happy followers with tales of critters - snakes, spiders, frogs and armadillos. Good southern fare. But being a Pacific Northwestern now for the last 15 years I feel we need a critter tale from these parts. And da boyz (Bear and Boo) have been happy to oblige.
Our house has a burm in the back. It looks very pretty with ivy and different plants and with 3 large pine trees on top. Until recently the back, however, was more of a jungle filled with black berry bushes and what have you. About 3 years ago when I moved back in with my parents I let Da Boyz out for their nightly duties. Before I knew what was going on, they'd raced up and over the burm top and were in the back barking a bark that can only be described as their pack hunt bark. Totally different from their normal barks. I run out, Mom runs out, Dad runs out. And we all start calling their names. Now when a dog is on a hunt, they don't normally listen to the furless two leggers that they allow in their pack.
Funny thing about burms, they're low hills, and like hills they have dirt, and when dirt gets wet it turns into mud and mud is slick. Thinking da boyz had were fighting off a mountaian lion I start to race up the burm. Only..yeah remeber the mud part. I stop to slip. No problem the fence is right next to me. I reach out to grab hold and find that I am now holding one of the slats from the fence. I stare at this piece of wood in my hands as I fall over backwards. Behind me comes Dad, ex-marine that he is, he goes into a marine crawl, on the knees using the elbows, he slowly works his way up the burm. All the while Mom is calling the boys names.
So here we are, it's pitch dark, I'm on my back in the mud holding a part of the fence, Dad is going all commado and trying to crest the burm like it was mount suribachi, and Mom is calling BEAR BOO!!!
Then up they come over the crest. They look somewhat amused at Dad and me as they trot down the burm and polietly go back into the house as is nothing had happened.
No doubt some poor Opossoum, mouse, rabbit or oddly shaped leaf learned its lesson. We sure did. There is now a high stone wall in front of the burm with steps on one end that we have blocked off from little four leggers. The back of the burm is now free of anything where a critter would call home.
And we have a new fence
7 years ago
Okay, just the fact your mom was yelling out "Bare boo" at the top of her lungs is enough for me. But add to that the commando crawl and you toppling over with a wooden stake, like you were expecting a vampire, really paints a pretty picture.
ReplyDeleteDo you have neighbors close by?
Thanks for mentioning me & my blog. I appreciate it!
ReplyDeleteI love the Marine crawl part of your story; if my dad was still alive I would share with him. He was Navy in WWII; I think he would make fun of your "Jarhead" Dad but it would be all in good fun; I'm sure your Dad would have some disparaging Navy comebacks.
Harley and I send our mutual hugs!
Karen honestly you make my days when I can read your blog. I love your Harley stories. I haven't passed them on to da boyz because...well...I don't want them getting ideas...after all there are two of them.
ReplyDeleteYeah Dad said the Navy was good for one thing...they were a good taxi service. Although he has read every Haratio Hornblower and Jack Aubry book around. When I told him that Melanie's story took place during the Napoleonic war he was beside himself. I might have to get the two of them together to discuss Sloops and Frigates and ships of the line and all that stuff.
Give Harley a scritch from Bear Boo and me.