'Coon Dog

With the night time temperatures consistently in the low 30s, we've been bringing the dogs in at night.  Before heading upstairs to bed, I open the laundry room door and call them.  Kersey comes tearing around the corner from the front porch (where I suspect she has been sleeping on the couch) and slides to a stop at the base of the back porch stairs.  She makes two or three cautious lunges at them, before scrambling up and squeezing past me into the laundry room.  I call again for Sedona but she doesn't arrive.  I give Kersey some belly rubs while we wait.  Standing out on the porch, shivering, I call for Sedona again.  Sometimes, she will finally arrive coming from the direction of the barn.  Sometimes, she decides to stay outside.  With her thick coat I know she isn't cold so I let her make the choice.  But I did wonder why she didn't want belly rubs and a dog bisucuit - and a comfortable fleecy dog bed for her old bones.

We aren't wondering anymore.  Saturday morning, Brett found her in the barn.  She had treed trapped a raccoon up in the barn rafters.  The raccoon was trying his hardest to hide.

Kersey joined in, barking her head off, trying to convince us that she was also a 'coon dog.

The raccoon was huge.  I told him that it was very rude to dig up my garden and scatter my daffodil bulbs everywhere.  He told me that he was living here first and to deal with it.

Fine, I said.  We're going to be gone for a few hours.  I'm putting the dogs in their dog run.  When we get home, you had better be gone.
He glared at me.

But he was gone when we got back home.

Sedona; 'coon dog extraordinaire.