Bing's great squirrel frolic

Guest blogger, Bing just took a great big drink of water and wants to take a break from her huffs and puffs to tell you her story of chasing squirrels in the woods today:

Squirrels are great. What do I like about squirrels? Well, they are furry; they spring from here to there in the wink of an eye; they can create bucketsful of trouble without even trying, and then run to the woods to hide. Yep, I like squirrels because they are just like me.

Dad spent the entire winter trying to figure out a way to feed the birds without squirrels getting into the food. I say, just refer to the boxes as squirrel feeders and call it a day. Having them in the yard gives Clover and me something to do when we are in the house. Oh yeah, nothing like lying in the window with Clover and spotting a squirrel in the yard. We bark and bark, then run like the thunderous herd that we are to the bedroom windows where we stand in the window, push our noses into the glass and bark like crazy.

As a matter of fact, today, Mom cleaned one of the windows where Clover and I maintain squirrel patrol. I did not mind; I just pressed my nose into the other window until she finished and then went back to my favorite one.

We live on a couple acres of woods filled with squirrels, raccoons, deer, and chipmunks, yet Mom makes a federal case about us leaving the grassy yard unless she monitors. I especially like our woods to the side because they join with woods owned by other people who have very interesting fountain rock gardens and flower beds in their yards outside the woods. I love to snoop through and check them out – which also gets Mom in all kinds of a snit.

This afternoon, as a matter of fact, she arrived home and let Clover and me out in the yard to take care of business. Well, if you ask me, part of my business is taking care of the squirrels. One of my furry-tailed buddies leaped from the bird feeder and took off for the woods. What’s a Schnoodle to do? I bolted past Mom while in the distance, I heard her holler: “BING NO, BING COME” at the top of her lungs.

The squirrel got away. They always do; those buggers sure can climb trees. So, while I was out and about in the coolest place in my world, I decided to noodle around a bit. The woods smell so good, and I just don’t want to miss a sniff. I love to run among the brush and trees free as a squirrel; the woods are so quiet, with only the distant sound of Mom tramping through in her house slippers, dodging deer droppings and bellowing something about “Come, NOW.” I did not let that squawk annoy me, I just leapt over dead stumps, stuck my nose in holes, and explored until I found myself at the edge of the woods where people have cool ponds, rocks and gardens.

I had no intentions of causing any trouble, I just like the different smells of people’s yards, and I get very nosey. It is not like I knocked off a liquor store or anything, I just enjoy taking in all the natural world has to offer.

That was about when I felt the sudden jolt around my neck when “Mrs. Shout-in-the Woods” grabbed my collar and led me home. She did not have to do that; I know my way through those woods like the back of my hand.
She stretched my neck by pulling my collar all the way home where Clover waited on the porch.

I forgot about Clover – we usually travel as a pack duo, but apparently, when I made my break, she sat on her haunches in the grass, letting Mom know SHE knows how do make good choices. Well la-ti-da, my so-called partner in crime.

I was told I needed to stay in my crate until Mom was done being miffed at me, and to think about what I did, while resting. I am glad she reminded me to think about my time in the woods, because that is just what I did. I thought about the deer tracks, the snake hole, and of course, my favorite part of the woods, the squirrels. I thought, and I thought, and I thought.

Later, when Mom had pretty much forgotten about my earlier adventure, we rang the bell that hangs from the door to indicate we need outside. Yep. I did it again, and that is why I am out of breath and Mom wants a glass of wine.