Watch Dog

3 a.m. is entirely to early to be up on a Saturday, but I had little choice, since one of the dogs would.Not.Stop.Barking. Of course, now that I'm up, said dog is sleeping blissfully on the floor in front of the door. First, a definition for you:

an·thro·po·mor·phize  (nthr-p-môrfz)

v.intr.

To ascribe human characteristics to things not human.

So bear with me while I tell you a tale about a blue heeler named Mac. 

Mac is my youngest son's dog. Mac and Chas have been fast friends since my hubby brought Mac home to us in December of 2010. Mac thinks he's Top Dog around here. He picks fights with the other dogs, and usually gets his butt whipped by them in due course. He's not a gentle dog. He's overly playful, rambunctious, and big for his breed. He's very protective of the family in general, but he's protective of Chas most of all. Mac loves his boy. So tonight, I imagine Mac's incessant barking was a protective mechanism. Allow me to explain.

Reg is working out of town this weekend. He packed up his equipment and headed out to Checotah Oklahoma at about 7pm last night. Chas and I went to town and grabbed some dinner, came home and plopped in front of the TV and ate dinner, and went to bed at about 10. 

*WOOF!* *RUFF* *GRRRR-ARF!* For an hour or so, this goes on... I get up and let the dogs out. Two minutes later, they're at the door, barking again. Let them in. Go back to bed. Repeat every 7-10 minutes for about an hour and a half.

*Thump* *BARK!* Something made a scraping noise outside, and Mac is barking his head off at the front door. It's 11:30 p.m. and Chas is scared. I get up, arm myself, and go to check it out. Nothing. Maybe a cat. Trash can knocked over. Back to bed. Telling Mac to be quiet. Finally he listens, and we all go peacefully to sleep.

Or so I thought. I imagine Mac stayed up, keeping vigilant watch by the front door. Either something spooked him, or he just got too tired to stay awake any longer. At 3 a.m. he began barking in good earnest, and refused to stop until I was on my feet. I let the dogs out again, and make a check of the house. Everything is fine. Not even a cat is disturbing the gentle peace of the night. *Bark Bark Bark* comes from the back door, which I imagine means, "Let me in, I've checked out the backyard, and found everything to be in perfect order. My work here is done." Upon which time, I let him in, and he went to his accustomed spot by the front door, turned around three times, and plopped down with a self-satisfied sigh and went instantly to sleep. 

After all, he kept watch for his family for half the night, apparently now it's MY turn. And now that I was up, he could catch some shut-eye.

Wish I could.

Thank you, Mac, for protecting us from the Boogey Man... or would that be the Boogey Cat? :)