Arrrggghh.

Sixty pounds of Jack Russell McNabb.
As anyone knows, that reads this blog on a routine basis, I have a dog that likes to wake me up in the middle of the night to let me know that there is a critter in the yard. She takes great joy in waking me up to let me know that the “Game is on”. She has a cautious routine where she wakes me up, then she runs to the hallway off the bedroom, she cautiously looks around the corner and down the hall, if the hall is clear she scoots down the hall and peers around the corner into the laundry room where her doggie door is. If she sees a coon or a ‘possum she breaks into a fit of barking and gives the critter a “Two Step Toward the Door Mr.” advantage. When the critter blasts through the door she is right on its tail, just a nipping and snapping at it. When it gets outside, it usually heads up a tree, then my dog is “in her glory“, she knows it can’t get away. And we joyously celebrate our victory with “Good Dog”, then we go back to bed.

But, sometimes she balks, she will cautiously poke her nose out the doggie door, look both ways, then she goes back to the foot of the bed and goes back into cautious alert mode. I don’t really know what she is thinking. I get the feeling that she knows that whatever is out there is too big for her. So, I go back to bed and let her worry.

Late last night she woke me up and headed outside. I stayed in bed and listened to her bark. I heard some movement in the front yard so I got out of bed and went to the outside door to the bedroom, I parted the curtains and fingered the Venetian blinds apart, but it was too dark to see through the screen on the outside. Knowing that the dog was still in the back yard barking, I reached down and opened the door knob, just as I turned it, the door bounded into my hand. I caught it and almost had it pushed shut when it slowly started pushing in. I had one hand against my head, and I was pushing against the door with my elbow and my other hand against the door and I had both knees against the door. I thought that if I hadn’t gotten caught off guard it would have been better to push with both hands. But I couldn’t change positions. The door slowly, almost hydraulically kept pushing open.

I thought of Kym with her rattlesnake that she caught in her bedroom, and I remembered the lady that got up in the morning and pulled her pants on and ran out to warm herself in front of the stove only to feel something crawling on her inner-thigh. She ripped her pants off and screamed. She undressed right there in front of everybody. When she got her pants off, she found that it was a scorpion. It hadn’t bitten her, so she was only em-bare-assed. (Pun) But, why did I have to get something big!

I tried to smell it to see if it smelled like carrion, like a mountain lion, or a bear. But the air was sweet, with no odor. Pushing a door open is not characteristic of a lion, so I though it was probably a bear. I thought about “Bloody Bones The kid Eating Monster” but I knew it wasn’t that. I wished that I had turned the lights on so I could see it, but it was too late. The door was slowly inching further in. I tried to remember all of the things that you are supposed to do in a bear attack, look big, make loud noises. So, I started to yell at the top of my lungs, but only small guttural moaning would come out.

My wife shook me and woke me up, and said “I told you not to eat salame and cheese just before dinner then go straight to bed.”

Damn, I really wanted to know what it was that was pushing the door open, now I’ll never know. Anyway, I had two antacids and maybe I’m calm enough to go back to sleep now.