On this happy day of ebay chaos, I had planned an entirely different post - one of books and love of books - but serendipity took the stage and instead I am writing about The Bee and Max the Schnauzer.
All those previously-posted lovely garden photos are so peaceful, so tranquil, so relaxing, aren't they? That's because the macro lens on the digital doesn't catch the inch-and-a-half-long carpenter bees buzzing about.
Max the Schnauzer however, DOES catch the carpenter bees.
This morning I had my regular "let-the-dogs-in-let-the-dogs-out-let-the-dogs-in" routine.
During the last "let-the-dogs-in", four of the five came in, then turned and sat in the back hallway, watching for Max. Max, normally a somewhat stodgey, walking-definition-of-old-curmudgeon, 10 year old dignified schnauzer, is coming in the doggy doors, twisting and leaping, bucking and kicking, doing a marvelous imitation of a Chinese contortionist at a Wild West show.
I am amazed and impressed. I didn't think he had it in him.
Then it dawns on me he must have a flea biting him, so I corral the other four dogs in the kitchen (sounds much easier than it was as they are all immensely entertained by Max, and want to see what he does next), run and get the flea spray (which was in the bathroom, behind the baby gate, which I trip over), then run back into the kitchen (through the other baby gate, which I also trip over) to get paper towels to rub the spray into his coat (the other four dogs are trying to help me, and I am forced to yell *explicit* directions to them on exactly how to get out from under my feet), and then,finally, I am isolated with Bronco Max (bouncing off the floor and doing back flips at this point) and the flea spray.
Holding his collar, and saying encouraging things like: "WOULD YOU JUST #$*$&% STAND STILL!!!" and "%#*&(*&% MAX!!!" (neither of which calm him, no idea why), I spray his back and sides with the flea spray.
Immediately he stops doing his bucking bronco routine, and calmly sits down, looking at me like I'm crazy.
Then he moves slightly to one side, and then I see past him, to the *HUGEMONGOUS* carpenter bee (close to two inches) crawling across the hallway rug, somewhat stunned by the flea spray, but still enjoying his long ride on the bucking bronco that is Max.
Max clearly looked at me (as pack leader) and said - in English - I kid you not- "KILL IT."
Although I felt The Bee deserved something - perhaps a little silk winner's sash saying "Buckin' Schnauzer Bronco Champ 2008", I promptly ground him into the rug, producing a solid round of woofs and cheers from the peanut gallery observing from the kitchen.
Max is now sleeping in the kitchen while the other pups are telling grandiose stories of the Bronco Bee Rider, and toasting to the most famous rodeo schnauzer of them all.
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