This other dog comes nosing around our screen door. Boomer’s in his usual position, nose poised at that same screen door but from inside our house. The four-legged intruder is a fluffy white fufu dog, a pipsqueak that’s gotta take on the bigger breeds. Immediately, Boomer goes ballistic defending his territory, lunging at the door repeatedly as the two canines get into a wolfing contest.
Neither dog backs off. Fufu is no stranger to stirring shit up at Boomer’s door. They go at it like two animals in attack mode in adjacent cages. After a few rounds, Fufu is dragged away by its owner. Boomer then goes to work, using his sense of smell to scan the screen door, which is bathed in sunlight and floating particles, remnants of the scuffle. His nose covers the entire area, sniffing for clues, collecting and storing the data in his brain, data that tells him important things about this rival in the jungle otherwise known as our neighborhood.
I watch spellbound as my dog’s instincts serve him like the most skilled of CSI detectives, breaking down the evidence chemical by chemical, accessing their meaning. He sniffs the area for minutes on end and returns to it with the same intensity a short time later. Boomer Boyd has the ability to amaze me in ways I never imagined, even after ten years and counting.
Note 2 Self: I think I’m gonna enjoy writing When In Doubt, Pet the Dog, my periodic blog memoir or journal thingy at randyboydsblocks.com. And what a great way to share some of the many pics of Boomer and me.