dogtown

out here in the woods, the dogs rule the land. we've got three: annie, bogie and birdie. annie is bogie's daughter and birdie is bogie's sister; the siblings are border collies and annie, a mutt. they live outside and keep watch over the property. on any given day we find countless ticks on them dead and alive, large and small, and the girls have no fear pulling them off. they are docile and sweet, however, filthy and unruly.


birdie stays in the dogpen. she yelps like a pup and howls like a hound. her fur is fluffy and her body, round like a barrel. bogie is her penmate but his slim, athletic frame and relentless determination enables him to dig his way out of the otherwise impenetrable perimeter. annie, on the other hand, is free to roam. so while bogie and annie are galavanting around the farm, birdie paces back and forth, yelping and howling with a tune of excitement and envy.

often times, father and daughter laze about on the lawn, but much of their day is spent darting and prowling through the woods. when bogie picks up a scent his pure-bred instinct sets him off like a rocket through the brush, clearing 8 feet in one leaping stride. annie takes off bounding after him and without looking back they enter a world no human could survive.


one afternoon annie pranced up the driveway with a limp and bloodied carcass in her mouth: a headless rabbit. there is no question that bogie made the kill but his humble demeanor gave his companion the honor of carrying the prize home. mouths panting, they laid down in the shade next to the carcass, nosing at it every now and again. we determined they had had their fun so junior went out back and dug a grave. within an hour the rabbit was dug back up and devoured. poor birdie stood behind the chicken wire and watched.

most often bonnie and clyde come strolling home thoroughly soaked and muddied with looks of contentment and shear exhaustion. their marauding is costly. annie has a dislocated hind leg from chasing after a 4 wheeler. so whenever she's pushed it too far she limps around until she's good to go again. a couple weeks ago i noticed bogie virtually unable to walk. katie took a look at him and thought she felt a bone out of place. great another one, she thought. after an x-ray the vet deteremined it was, in fact, a foreign object. so they opened him up and removed a stick about 5 inches long. it had broken clean off behind his shoulder. no doubt one of those leaping strides landed him in doggy surgery.

for about a week bogie was on lock down, tied to a tree. during that time he put on a couple much needed pounds but, even still, he is no match for some of the mangey beasts around these parts. some nights the atmosphere is heavy with barking and howling, like a long distance conference call from across spotsylvania county. and when the sun is up there are no leash laws.

the other evening annie and bogie got into a brawl with a german shepherd looking thing. katie and i ran outside and made some noise only to see two more dogs heading in their direction. the fight broke up. bogie stood at the fence opening and faced off with a pit bull while annie jogged back and forth. the shepherd and the third dog ran off when we threw sticks but the pit wouldn't back down. he could have torn bogie apart but we figured he was friendly when he started wagging his tail. when the pit fianlly sauntered off bogie and annie followed at a distance to make sure the dogs went back to where ever they came from.

more than likely the pack followed the scent of a dead raccoon to the woods behind our house. around 5 am one morning early last week katie woke to the sound of incessant barking. she got up figuring the racket was over the horses having broken out of the pasture (which is often the case) but found a raccoon hobbling down the pebble walkway along the house. miraculously, i did not hear the commosion from the camper. katie called from work that day and asked that i look for the raccoon to make sure it had made it out alive. during my daily ride gloree and i found the poor creature, dead: another kill. within a day or two turkey vultures had set up camp and dragged the carcass out of sight.

the life of a country dog is like none other. yesterday i watched as bogie walked over to the dogpen and nose at the latch; either tired or hungry, he wanted in. to my surprise he is still in there, resting up for his next escape and great adventure through the woods and river, covering acres upon acres of red virginia clay.