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The Prodigal Son Returns

A couple of years ago, I had to find a new home for Maximus, the St. Bernard/Boxer mix I’d had for many, many years.  Maximus is the dog who propped me up through illnesses, heartaches, and learning the ropes of motherhood.  The dog who let me bury my face in his fur and would lay behind my babies as they learned to sit up, to cushion their inevitable falls.

Good Gah, I loved that dog.  I cried a million tears the day I had to say good-bye.

We had to send him away because he developed a taste for… brace yourselves… baby goat brains.  Yecch.  He just could not leave the baby goats alone.  Apparently, their brains are some sort of delicacy.  And, living on a ranch, we couldn’t just eliminate the temptation – especially after he attacked a goat right in front of me, which resulted in this and that.

However.  Fate being what it is, we have had to get rid of our goat herds because their feed contains corn, which was causing a problem for corn-allergic Blythe; Max’s “new” owner has just recently been transferred to Tennessee for work, and isn’t able to take a dog with him.

An alignment of the stars?  Possibly.

Joy, our 5-month-old American Bulldog pup, adores Maximus.  She is basically his groupie; she follows him around constantly, waiting for him to notice her.  And when he does, she is clearly in some kind of doggy heaven.  Until he pins her head between his front paws and humps her face, but even that she doesn’t really seem to mind.  The little hooker.

For the past week, they have been inseparable, which I thought was cute.  Until today.

Today, they decided to be little dog Houdini’s and escape the back yard.  Apparently acres and acres of land isn’t enough for them.  Oh, no, not for the aging rockstar and his groupie, who, until this very day, never dreamed of wandering off.  Unlike Maximus, who had a little bit of a thing for running off, now that I think about it.  Hmmmm. 

The two of them ran over to the drainage pond a half-mile away, leaving Cage the Chubby Labrador in their dust, and ignoring me as I called them.  Yes, you little stinkers, I saw you turn and look at me when I called your names, and then run off in the opposite direction.

My car is covered in mud.  I almost got stuck, chasing them.  When I went after them on foot, the mud sucked my shoes in, ankle-deep. 

And when I caught up to them?  They jumped right into the back of my car, happy as can be, as if we’d all been for a friendly little springtime stroll.

I’ve had to put my baby girl and her too-old-for-her boyfriend in doggie prison until we can figure out how they got out of the yard.

You can tell Joy is quietly humming some sort of soulful, bluesy song to get her through this indignity.


Oh, the horror.  What will the neighbors think?

I’m afraid that soon, Maximus is going to have my sweet, gorgeous puppy turning tricks around the neighborhood, and then?  Then, I’m going to have to kick some prodigal son ass, since Cage the Chubby Labrador is far too busy taking a nap in his posh doggie Mansion to stand up for his sister’s honor.

4 replies on “The Prodigal Son Returns”

Bad doggie influence. He is going to take her down the wrong path. Altho I did giggle when you said they looked back over the shoulders at you and then ran off the opposite direction. I had a pair of dogs like that. It was hard work for years and years.

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