Before I begin, let me remind you that Blondie Bear is scared of gunfire and thunder. When she hears these she bolts to HairyFace’s side and insists on being petted until the scariness passes.
It had been an unsettling morning. Millie went for a truck ride with HairyFace. Almost surprisingly she came back. Usually when we get that “someone is leaving” vibe, whoever goes for a ride does not come back.
When they returned from wherever they went Millie was outside for a while, then came in to her room (crate) and the rest of us took turns going out. As usual, Blondie, Tinker and I all went out as a group. We’re all best buds. Blondie often goes outside with Millie or with Fido. Sometimes they play, sometimes she tells them to back off. If they do (Millie is doing better with that) all is well. If not, Hairy steps in to back them off. Hairy is Blondie’s hero/protector.
When we came in, Hairy took Fido out. A lot of times, when it’s chilly, Fido will race out in the yard, run a couple of loops, stop to do his business, then race back to the door saying, “Let me back in where it’s warm!” But this morning, Fido chose to wander around and sniff stuff. So after a while Hairy left him to amuse himself and came back inside.
A few minutes later a single, loud gunshot rang out. Blondie leapt from her snuggle bed and ran to Hairy, but instead of pressing up against his leg, she was huffing at him and wheeled toward the door.
“What are you after, Baby Girl?” (Sometimes he calls her Baby Girl).
She left the room. He shrugged and went back to his button-thingie.
He heard a scratch at the storm door in the laundry room. “Could that be Fido asking to come in?” If it was, that would be a new trick for him. Hairy went to the door.
No Fido, but Blondie stood there with her nose pressed into the corner of the door.
“You’re kidding me; you want to go outside when someone is shooting a gun?”
“Okaaay.” He opened the door and follower her outside.
Blondie ran to the Coolaroo on the walkway (we call it our watch tower) and issued two sharp calls: “Harf, harf”. These were not loud, but insistent.
Fido was playing in the yard, heard Blondie and came running. He bounded up to her, put his forelegs on her back, and tried to initiate play. Blondie shook him off, wheeled around, and quick-trotted up the walkway toward the door. Fido followed. Hairy followed them.
Blondie scratched insistently on the door, knowing full well that Hairy was coming as fast as he could (but not fast enough). He opened the door and they all went inside.
Blondie went back to the den to await Hairy. Fido was sent back to his room and was confused. “What was that all about?” Hairy went back to his work.
I think Blondie is more fond of Fido than she lets on. She’ll even brave boomer-noises to make sure he’s safe.
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