We, as a family, watch old sci-fi movies on Friday evenings. The old stuff is family friendly but can still have an effect on one’s thinking.

After we saw Marie off to work this morning, I went over to feed and care for the Rowdy Boys, like I do every morning. Lancelot and Blondie decided to go along.

After feeding and watering them and cleaning up their pens, I cleaned up the play yard and put away the equipment. Then I went into my office, which is in an old mobile home that serves as workshop, kennel, potting shed, storage, and office space. Lancelot and Blondie wanted to come along. There is a futon mattress on the floor of the office for dogs to rest on and a big water dispenser, so I’m always happy for the company of a well behaved pooch.

Lancelot settled in on the bed, and Blondie stood watch at the big window in the tool room while I worked at the computer for about an hour. When my work was done, I said, “You kids want to go home?”

Blondie began prancing around and huffing like she does when she gets excited about something. Lancelot looked at me though his eyebrows. I asked again, and Lance stretched out and slowly and got to his feet to follow us to the door, then out to the gate.

Once in the yard, Blondie took off down the hill for a closer inspection of something she had been watching through the window. I decided to open up the barn to keep it cooler in there as the sun comes up over the mountain. Lance stood on the path from the gate to the house and watched us.

Once the barn was opened up, I remembered that I needed to cut up last years Christmas tree and put the pine branches on the blueberry bed, so I grabbed a hand-pruner and a bucket and began snipping off branches.

Lancelot walked across the play yard and stood watching, then stepped a little closer, “You said we were going home, Doug.”

Snip, snip, snip… I had not noticed him.

Lance turned and took a couple of steps toward the house, paused and looked back over his shoulder at me, “You SAID we were going HOME, Doug.”

Snip, snip, snip… I knew he was there, but missed his statement. Lance is a very quiet fellow; nearly all of his communication is through body language.

Lancelot took in a slow, deep breath, let it out in a huff, then walked slowly toward the house. That, I noticed.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I did say we were going home didn’t I?” I dropped the pruner into the bucket and followed Lance up the hill toward home.

We rounded the corner of the house into the chute that leads to the back porch. Once inside, Lancelot settled into a snuggle-bed near Cochise.

Blondie was too engrossed in her investigation to notice our departure. When she did realize it was awful quiet, she trotted over to the barn. “Doug was just here,” she thought, “wasn’t he?” She sniffed at the bucket and the pruner on top of the pine boughs in it, “Yep, that’s Doug’s scent. Where could he have gone?” Then she remembered a movie we had watched together recently, “Oh, no: aliens got him! Aliens have taken Doug!” And she started to huff and trot this way and that, trying to decide what to do about the aliens.

From inside the house I saw her sniffing the bucket and getting agitated. I lifted the window and called, “Blondie! We’re in the house, Baby. Do you want to come inside too?”

Her head snapped around to look up at the window. She could not see me through the dark screen, but she knew my voice and what I had said, so she galloped off toward the house. I went to the back door and held it opened for her as she charged up the ramp, glad to see her friend safe and sound.

Blondie took up station in the dining room window while I set up a laptop computer on the dining table.

Once the sun comes over the mountain and shines into our yard the dogs will all be more amenable to spending time in the yard. Until then, they’d rather rest up. It’s going to be another pretty day and there are plenty of things to sniff at and watch out for … especially those pesky aliens!