doghouseI built this for our constituents, so they’ll feel happy that Bronte has a proper house. So far, she seems pretty disinterested in it, even in the rain. We’ll see if she feels like she needs it!

A few days ago, we looked out the kitchen window to see a tall man hopping over the locked gate in the pasture. I tell ya, people just seem to think they’re alone out there, and free to do whatever they want. I trotted down there, unnoticed by him, caught his attention as he was coaxing the dog (who was having nothing to do with him). I said, “excuse me, sir, would you like to tell me what you’re doing in our pasture?”

He suddenly became awkward and embarrassed. He claimed he was from the Sheriff’s office (shoot, later I wish I would have demanded to see his ID so I could have ratted him out for searching without a warrant!). He said was having dinner at a nearby restaurant when a woman talked him into checking up on the dog. She told him there was a puppy tied up in an abandoned field with no food, water or shelter.

He acknowledged that what she described was not at all what he saw, that he was picturing a tiny puppy tied on a short rope in squalid conditions. Not an 80-pound, woolly, well-fed guard dog in a 4-acre green pasture. He confirmed the dog looked healthy and not in conditions that are anywhere near what would be legally concerning. He groaned that people often call the Sheriff over supposed animal abuse cases that turn out to be false alarms, wasting their time that could be better spent on real crimes.

I offered to give him my phone number to pass on to the concerned citizen, if she wanted to talk. But he shook his head, and said he’s straighten her out. He apologized for trespassing, made his excuses and quickly skedaddled.