Master of the House

It has been rainy, gloomy weather nonstop for days here in the Northeast. So The People have been having their cocktail hour indoors, chatting around the kitchen table. The Woman keeps the doors and windows open as well as the fans on to help the air circulate because the humidity is often so high that her glasses fog up for no reason. Condensation is our friend for the next few months.

So we are all enjoying our luxury time of conversation, when I hear something suspicious. Very suspicious. I call attention to this, and Belle-chan immediately sounds the alarm, running to the front door. I follow. The noise is not a cool noise. The People move to the Front Door to see what we are barking at, but there is nothing.

As they turn around, The Woman points out that the Backyard Light has turned on (meaning that movement took place in the backyard).

Something is up.

Cocktail hour resumes, and about three minutes later, The Woman says to That Guy, "The Local Police Dog Team is moving through our backyard."

Red Alert. Shields Up. Set Phasers on Disintegrate.

So The People close up the Doors and look out the Windows to see what is happening. Police Officers are trambling through our shrubberies (must remember to sniff this out later!) and the Dog is in Hot Pursuit.

So about 30 minutes later, The Household decides that more beer is required and The Woman and I leave to go visit the local liquor people. As we walk toward the car, we see three Police officers walking back. One is completely out of breath. They explain it had been merely an exercise drill. The out of breath policeman says that he heard us as he went by (well, yes, of course, two Shibas in full alarm is not a sound to be ignored!). The Woman recognizes one of the police officers, greets him and . . .

then I see Him.

The Police Dog.

He is loose, holding the scent marker bag.

We lock eyes.

Now, here I need to digress. Recently, an email was sent from Alice, my trainer and soon to be Belle-chan's torturer:

Belle is more than likely still adjusting and I am sure Cortez may be very subtly bullying her. Cortez is an expert at using eye contact and posture to let other dogs know to clear the way for "the king." I have witnessed his amazing use of these almost invisible to the trained eye canine communications.

Did I mention that the Police Dog and I locked eyes?

We both stop. We both stare. And I am not going to back down. He is 10 feet from my yard and about 20 feet total from me. He Shall Not Pass.

For seconds, we stood there staring, and then the Police Man called the Dog to return. He did not. We continued to stare. The second call, he ran back to his Police Person.

Wimp.

The Woman calls me to the Car so that we can leave and I watch the Shepherd move down the road. As we drive past, I notice him peeing on a telephone post that Belle and I both mark.

My agenda for this morning? This situation will be rectified immediately with our morning constitutional.

But I will have you all note: the Police Dog Backed Down First. I Still Reign Supreme.




I Am Shiba. I Am K-9 007. Licensed to Kill.