Today’s the day.
I can see it all over my dog’s face: Today is the day.
Earlier this morning, maybe 30 minutes ago, Lulu followed me out as I walked toward the back of the yard to attend to our small flock of chickens. She’s a tangled mess of a little black maltese mix, weighing in at about 10 pounds soaking wet, and she walked that carefree walk that dogs walk, her ears flopping gently with each step and her muscles relaxed.
Then, she sensed the squirrel.
Her tormentor. The bane of her existence. The squirrel.
She bolted ahead of me, her high pitched bark echoing off the neighboring houses. Early on Sunday morning. Great.
This squirrel cracks me up. She lives in the roof of one of our outbuildings, and is a constant presence in the yard. She torments the dog intentionally, I know she does. She’ll actually walk back down the tree toward Lulu, chirping and chittering, knowing she’s safely out of reach.
As always, the squirrel left the ground and found refuge on her branch in the pecan tree. Lulu circled the tree a few times, then took her position at its base. The squirrel, as always, took hers on a branch some 15 feet above.
They’re both still there.
I, on the other hand, am enjoying a cup of coffee on the porch, knowing that my ever-vigilant protector is on the job.
Today’s the day. She will get the squirrel. Today’s the day.