It was a crisp but sunny November day. Blondie and Cochise were out in the fenced play yard. Cochise, being our Chief of Homeland Security often barks at something or other: wandering animals, loud cars, the horrible school bus monster. The UPS truck sends him into a frenzy, I have no idea why. I heard him barking but there was something different: the tone was not his normal “I’m going to get you” bark, it was more of an “Alert, alert” bark. And he was out back of the house, not over in the yard. I went to the bedroom to see what he was barking at. Maybe it was a deer in the woods or a turkey; both were plentiful that year.
I parted the curtains, expecting to see him barking up the mountain slope toward the woods that start about 50 feet behind the house. Instead he was facing the window, looking squarely at ME as he barked. The look in his eyes matched the tone of his bark… something was wrong. He was saying, “come quick”. I rushed out the back door. Cochise was peeking around the corner. When he saw me he turned and ran.
I rounded the first corner at a trot, then the second, Cochise had stopped and was looking back at me. He barked sharply twice then took off running down the yard. I followed. He went another 25 or 30 feet and stopped to see that I was still following. Two barks, “come quick” and on he went. We did this 5 times as we crossed the yard, went through the garden, and around the back of our little barn to arrive at the low corner of the fenced yard.