Is this your hound dog?

'Cause it's not mine...

Once again, a critter has wandered upon my back 40. I came home quite late last Friday, tired and chilled, and just wanting to chill out. I climbed out of the van and right away I noticed my two Pyrs cause they show up even when it's really dark with the security light shining off their white coats. It's harder to see Freda, but I'm used to her being right smack in front of me waiting for her pat-on-the-head greeting. Well, that night, I kept glimpsing Freda over here - and then over there, and then back over here. I could see her long ears flapping about and I wondered how she moved so fast. Then I opened the rear door and ka-whomp - a dog jumped right in, ran right over my groceries and paintings - and plopped down in the driver's seat! So that's it - four ears flapping in the night...

You guessed it. Not Freda - but some free-loader.

So here he is. Sad, skinny, and sans the giant chain that someone was using as a "collar". He looks like an old dog, but he's not. He's just got that Bloodhound droopy look. And he's definitely got that stinky dog smell.

So of course I fed him and made up a bed in the shop for him - and wondered why he was still here the next morning.

Lots of my neighbors are "coon" hunters, a despicable activity carried out under cover of darkness with big guns, dogs and flashlights. Why anyone thinks this is sporting defies not only logic but humanity. So I'm not about to go ask any of them if they're missing one of their black'n'tans. I tried out a few dog-sounding monikers on him, but he only seems to react to "Bad Boy" and "No". (I found this out when he tried chasing any of the kitties who offered to run.)

He tried to protect me from the horses, too, but after two days he's given up on that. I figure he needs about fifteen pounds of muscle to look good. I really can't afford another large dog, so if you're a doggy lover in need of a real pal, here he is! He wants to ride in the car, so someone must have given him rides. And he always tries to come in the house, so someone must have let him in. sigh... Poor boy...

The Pyrs don't mind him - except when he tried to eat their food, but a truce has been declared during which they pretend he doesn't exist. The cats are wary - and Freda wants to play. But "Bad Dog" only wants to bay at unknown things out in the pastures. Better not be my any of my kitties...

And Elvis? Elvis can't wait to shred that doggie's nose.