THE NEIGHBORHOOD HOUNDS
Do you have a neighbor you’re actually thrilled to see coming up your drive unannounced, uninvited at 7 in the morning?
How about a neighbor who drops in just for a snack and a drink then ends up crashing on your porch all night?
I have several of these neighbors and they are all dogs.
If I had my way, all of my neighbors would be dogs…
but all of these dogs have humans living in their houses. I know the names and addresses of their humans, but I don’t know them well. The dogs, however, I know intimately and have spent countless hours with them in the garden, on walks, hikes, and just hanging out on the deck. They saunter over early in the morning, or in the middle of a party, and are sometimes waiting for me on the deck when I come home.
Often, I go for a walk alone and come home with several dogs. Usually, the dogs I pick up are one of these neighbors, but on occasion I land a new, visiting dog.
That is slow, country living at its finest!
All of these creatures are lively, hairy and cookie friendly yet very different in personalities. Here is a lineup of our usual neighborhood hounds.
Max is a bruiser of a boxer. He is scraggly, gangly, and usually hungry.
He belongs to the human next door but he doesn’t know it. Max is so independent it seems pointless to put a collar on him. He makes the rounds through the neighborhood chasing feral cats, checking on neighbor’s activities, and scrounging through the woods. He’s been known to crush a few flowers in my garden and then nap on them for hours. Max is unapologetic, ever present and with a gnarled face that you grow to love.
And Max comes with a handsome brother, Brody.
Max and Brody are actually brothers – and so are their humans.
The brother who lives on the north side of our acreage owns Brody. This brother is meticulously neat, quiet and standoffish. It drives him wild that his dog roams the neighborhood but Brody sets his own rules. His brother, Max has the other human brother.
And Max’s human is a different breed.
That brother is messy, carefree, loves to throw loud parties and generally has about 8-10 outdoor projects going on at the same time. None of these projects will ever be completed – in fact they only multiply with time. There are no less than 9 vehicles on his acreage from RVs to ATVs, boats, motorcycles and trucks that aren’t running. Rumor has it someone lives in the RV - but I don’t ask. We all have 5 acres with plenty of woods in-between so I don’t see the happenings. “Don’t ask don’t tell” is my good neighbor policy.
These two boxers roam the neighborhood like a couple of fearless hoodlums.
They are brothers and best friends who are usually inseparable. Because they live with separate humans, our acreage is the path that connects them every day. They have literally worn a trail through the woods, stickers and wild blackberries to get from one house – across our property – to the other house.
Before they start their neighborhoods rounds, they visit me for treats and coffee talk.
Recently a new dog came into the mix as his human was building a tiny house a few blocks away.
Jackson has the body of a hound dog but the soul of a well worn, bourbon drinking cowboy.
His owner found him in a National Park where the ranger reported seeing him for a few weeks on his own in the mountains. I believe it given his independent nature. I had to earn Jackson’s trust and once I did, he became a frequent guest. He makes his rounds through the neighborhood but on a very specific mission. He knows just where to check for cat food, unsecured trash (usually at Max’s house), or unsuspecting rabbits.
And the gentle souls of the neighborhood are the girls.
And of course, my favorite is Lucille Ball, aka Lucy
Lucy is my girl. My soul animal. She is lively and loves water in any form as long as it isn’t a bath. She is 12 now and we consider her retired as she enjoys napping more than hiking or exploring with us. She has an incredibly sweet spirit to her and is boundlessly loyal. She sleeps next to me, under my feet, or as close as she can get wherever I happen to be.
Not all the neighborhood dogs are dogs.
Waddles is a 350 pound pig that thinks she is a dog. Her human is our messy neighbor which is fitting. He claims he inherited her in a poker game he lost. Again, I don’t ask too many questions.
Waddles lives in a luxuriously, huge pen which is full of mud and hay – just how she likes it. She accepts leftovers of any kinds – but never pork.
And that’s the current roundup.
Every day is a new adventure with these neighbors and I expect our visitor list to continue growing. We also have neighboring horses, chickens and goats but they haven’t mastered the escape route to our house just yet. I look forward to the day when they do!