I thought, since there was no morning run to comment on, that I'd bring you an image of our Malty-Poo (I hate that name) Rocky - Rocket Man - Rock-Star - whatever. He's about ten pounds of fluff and bone and thinks he's a T-Rex. He considers himself the guardian of our yard. Keep in mind, that he is not too bright. He guards us from such things as the neighbor's trash cans when they've been rolled to the street. He can't see most of the time above the level of the ground, so any sound makes him hop in circles and whuff. Trish has determined that he keeps himself in the dark on purpose, because when it comes time to beg at the dinner table he has no trouble at all tossing his head back to show his feed-me eyes. (It's his one super power, and as super powers go, it's not much).
He chases leaves and garbage because they make noise - not because he can see them.
His nemesis is a Mocking Bird that dive-bombs him constantly to get him away from the tree where its nest resides. He never sees the bird. He hears it ... occasionally it comes close enough to ruffle his fur with its wings...but he usually ends up hopping in circles and barking at the air where it used to be...funny stuff, but as a guardian he's no great shakes.
If you happen to wander down Market Street, odds are you'll run into him eventually, pacing up and down his post and looking ridiculous.
DNW
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