Fido

So, yesterday I sat down and wrote 1000 words about environmental action for a post I was going to put up to follow the last one.  It was inspired writing!  Pulitzer prize kinda' writing!  Man, it was good.  We were all going to read it and run out and join Sierra Club and buy a new electric car.  That's how good it was.

Then Riley and Camo left a gift at the front door and all of that seemed irrelevant.

We live in the historic district of Leesburg, Virginia and we leave dog biscuits and water out for our four legged friends who come by as part of their daily walk with their owners.  Every morning, whoever gets up first, heads out to change the water and make sure there are enough small and large Milk Bones in the box in front of the house to take care of our guests.  (And it's only Milk Bones.  We've tried the designer kinds, the ones you get at the Farmer's Market, and we could swear we have seen dogs turn up their noses at them.  It's like preferring McDonald's to Ruth Chris Steak House, but, hey, it's their taste buds).

When I started this, some nine years ago, I would get 10 or 12 a day stopping at the Tupperware to take out a biscuit for Fido.  Now?  We get somewhere between 25 and 30 a day, both morning and night.  It is the stop on the dog-walking trail in downtown Leesburg.

For a few years I put out Tupperware containers with the biscuits.  Until they began to disappear.  'Son of a bitch!' I would yell when coming home to find the container gone. 'Who would steal dog biscuits!?'  It used to make me furious.  I even left a note once that said 'if you are hungry, come to the door and knock and I will feed you.'  I figured it had to be someone who was hungry or had dogs that they couldn't feed.

Only it turned out one night I heard rustling outside the window, got up and saw the largest racoon in captivity walking down the sidewalk with my Tupperware in his paws!  When I watched him disappear under the shed next to the house I went over the next morning and found enough Tupperware to have a home party.  It wasn't humans - it was other four legged creatures.

I had to do something.  I mean, my friend Rick, who turned Tupperware into a world-wide phenomena, would always send me more if I needed it, but it was the principle of the thing.  I had to find a way to stop Rocky Racoon from stealing the dog biscuits.

One day in Home Depot (not a place I frequent very often--to me yard is a four letter word) I saw a tool box made of metal.  It looked like it would fit perfectly on the wall and it had two big latches that I was pretty sure even Einstein Racoon couldn't open.  I bought it and nailed it into place and we haven't lost a biscuit since.

Between us, my wife Anna and I have made sure the bins are never empty and the water is fresh.  Recently we added hand sanitizer to make things safer.  And it usually is, safe I mean, unless Mabel has been there, which happens around 7:30 am every morning.  Mabel, a pretty old mutt, is owned by the guy we call 'the General' because we know he's former military and we know he wasn't happy with our Biden/Harris signs.  I once told him we call him the General and he said, quietly, 'almost made it.  Colonel.'  

If The General and Mabel have been here, forget it.  The water bowl is like the Okefenokee Swamp because Mabel leaves as much in the bowl as she takes out.  I keep my eye out for Mabel and as soon as she has passed I change the water.  Nobody would drink from a post-Mabel bowl.  It looks like a lake when something has killed all the fish and they float belly-up.

We have learned the names of the dogs but not the humans.  We know Camo and Riley.  We know Mabel and Stretch.  But we  haven't a clue what the names are of the humans on the other end of the dog leashes.  We kind of like it that way.

So, back to Riley and Camo.  The other thing that happens is the owners (I'm guessing it's not the dogs) leave gifts and notes in the box.  "Thanks for doing this."  "You are so kind to do this..."   And they always leave signed notes -not by the humans but by the dogs.  "I love coming here!" writes Clipper.  "We love you; thanks for the biscuits," writes Muffy (yea, Muffy.  Someday I'll tell you the story of the conversation between Muffy and her owner that took place outside our bedroom window about how she has to restrict the number of biscuits she has because she gets constipated).  "This is my favorite part of my walk each day," writes Topper.

The dogs, you see, leave the notes.  But we know it is the humans that appreciate the biscuits.

Now, getting to why I'm not writing about the Paris Climate Accord.  Today Anna and I went out to check the water and there was a wrapped present near the biscuit box.  Inside, we found a note from Riley and Camo saying 'we tried to find a replacement for your king but this was the best we could do;  found it on eBay.'  Two of our dog visitors had gone to the trouble of finding a new 'king' for the creche that sits outside on the bench, and that we put out every Christmas.  After Christmas day, when the baby Jesus shows up (you don't put Jesus out in your creche do you?  He isn't born yet!), the wise men make their way down the bench, moving a little each day until Epiphany when they appear at the manger to pay honor to the Christ-child, just a few feet from the dog bowl.

The creche, made of porcelain, shouldn't be outside at all.  But every year we put it out on the bench that sits in front of the house.  Mary, Jesus, two cows and the three Wiseman, the set has been put out every year for almost 10 years.  Only a few years ago, someone sat on the bench and one of the Wiseman (I've decided it's Balthazar because I like to say Balthazar) bought the farm.  He fell off the bench and smashed into a bunch of pieces.  

Now finding another Balthazar that matched the original set wasn't easy.  So I took a gray water bottle and a Sharpie and made a new Balthazar on it.  Awful looking thing, but hey!  how good could they have looked wandering the desert for god knows how long?

Today?  There, thanks to Riley and Camo was a beautiful, wrapped present that had Balthazar in it.  It was almost a perfect match for the original set.  Camo and Riley's parents (we actually do know their names but, hey, this is about the dogs) had gone to the trouble of searching on eBay for a king that looked like the other kings.   And they set it at our door as a Holiday gift.

Anna and I looked at each other and said 'this is Christmas.'

I can write about the environment some other time. Today I write about Riley and Camo and how sometimes the four-legged creatures show us the spirit of this season better than the two-legged ones.

Next time I'll tell you about Bapu, the outdoor cat that shows up at our house every morning around 5am for breakfast, stays all day, gets fed again at 5pm and then goes somewhere at night. Best pet ever.  Soft, furry, purrs and doesn't shit in the house.  Can't beat it.

Happy holidays to all.  Love, Riley, Camo, Bapu, Anna and Kurt