In her off hours the Farm Manager likes to cruise the internet looking at pictures of dogs.
Fortunately, between managing the farm and managing me and doing the cooking and the dishes and the laundry, she doesn't get around to it that often.
But she did today, and right there in the middle of the afternoon I heard a shriek, "OH MY GOD COME AND LOOK AT THIS IT'S LUCY!!!"
So I came and looked, and sure enough, she was in fact looking at a picture of our youngest, Lucy.
Formerly known as a "brindle cur," our Lucy at some point made it onto the radar of the American Kennel Club and her kind got their own file.
No longer a mere "brindle cur," she is now a "Treeing Tennessee Brindle."
Good with people to a fault, we learn.
Great watch dog, poor guard dog, we learn.
I believe it. The other day I took the hounds into town. Stopped at the liquor store. When I came out Lucy had exited the car window and was on her back in the middle of the handi-cap parking spot getting a belly rub from a couple of Asian guys in a Land Rover.
Asian guys in a Land Rover? Drug cartel king-pins, obviously.
But Lucy doesn't discriminate. Apparently that is why they are a good watch dog and not a good guard dog.
When you bust into my place you can expect that Lucy will bark fiercely on sensing your arrival.
Then when you actually come in the door she will roll over and let you give her a belly rub.
That's why we keep those Rottweilers in the woodshed.
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