“I got a feeling called the blues, lord
Since my baby said goodbye.
And I don’t know what I’ll do.
All I do is sit and cry, oh lord …”
He paces, and sniffs, and licks the ground while chattering his teeth and drooling. Is he rabid???
He refuses to listen and doesn’t want to eat no matter what I make for him aside from an occasional feathered bird snack. He must be starving. Obviously he is “sick” or something and the food I make is garbage, even the fresh grilled tuna and mashed sweet potato.
He is trying to dig out from under the fence and won’t sleep. He must not be getting enough exercise I guess. Yep, those daily hikes and jogs just aren’t enough for this little man all of a sudden.
Just when I think we will all get a little relief from this during the still of the night, that’s when the whining, no, the howling, begins followed by repeated attempts to jump on me, pull on my arms, and stand on my head. Does he have to pee? No, not at all, but he sure looks silly writhing around with those 3 am come hither eyes trying to entice his sleepy sister Beebe to flirt with him.
What the heck has happened to my sweet, mellow, easy going boy??? He’s turned into one rangy, marking, crazed wild-dog in a matter of days.
The mystery is solved when, while out in the yard last week, an itty bitty Fifi sans owner comes running up to the fence line. Beebe is furious that this interloper is making approaches towards the property, while Ike, who is doing nothing to defend the fence at this point, completely ignores everything except the new girl. I do my best to shoo her away, seeing no owner and haul my little Romeo back inside. “Fifi” reappears again the next day, followed by several dogs. He is very woeful and forlorn now that he has been forbidden the company of his secret lady fence friend, but his less desirable behaviors should start diminishing. It is to be hoped anyways. Ugh.