A Real Job

Kenya finally has one ... a real job.

Oh, she has always thought she had one. She always alerts me to intruders. The problem is, there are no real intruders up here. No one would risk coming all the way in without special equipment because his chances of getting out again are not good. And not only is there nothing here to steal but it would have to be carried up the 39 step hill and possibly hauled along the 1/2 kilometer private road to the first municipal road where everyone else lives.

So all that barking about Jenny walking Miss Vicki on the other side of the lake or when she actually sees someone brave enough to venture in for a visit is quite unnecessary.

In the banner photo Kenya stands on guard for me. She waits for hours for something to actually happen on my lake. I am never sure whether the barking is an alarm call or whether it is simply excitement that she has actually seen some activity.

BUT ... now ... if we are interpreting the tracks correctly, she has a real intruder to deal with. In fact, I would say she has a whole family of them. I think there are raccoons under the deck down by the lake.

So now, I am really glad that Kenya plays sentinel. The last time a raccoon lived there, it dragged itself out to die and I had to haul the forty pound corpse up the hills(s) 22 steps from the lake to the house and 39 steps from there to the road. Then I had to get Leonard to come with his truck to haul away the metal garbage can in which I'd put the corpse. It was enormously bloated and stank ... well ... like a dead body ... even through the multiple layers of plastic in which I had wrapped it.

I would really like it if Kenya chased the raccoons over to the house next door ... the one where the people come every few weeks all winter. They upset Kenya, steal my parking space, run chain saws for hours on end, and invite very loud and obnoxious guests to their parties.