White Dog nosed YoYoMa from behind to get out of her way; she nimbly jumped over Nuka; and bounded into the watching chair with such force that the chair rocked backwards. Her actions had drawn the entire White Dog Army into the living room and they looked at her expectantly. White Dog hunkered down on the chair back and waited. The WDA waited.
She watched as the substitute mailman (obviously a Holiday Hire) pulled stacks of boxes out of his truck and carefully read the addresses. She remained in position and the others followed her cue while he piled six boxes, slung his mailbag over his shoulder, stooped to lift the stack into his arms. Her eyes gleamed as he walked up our driveway and she gave the Army a subtle signal.
The poor guy never saw it coming. Just as he reached the front door and was bending to place the packages against the door, White Dog sounded the "Mailman!" red alert!
Bedlam broke loose in a chorus of barks and howls straight from a horror movie and when the civil servant looked up into the window all he saw was White Dog leaping at the window, lips rolled back and teeth bared; in the background a sea of white fur surged to break loose.
He knocked over the stack and spent precious time replacing the boxes before he took off down the driveway chased by the continued Army call to action. THEN he realized that he had forgotten to slide the envelope mail into the slot.
White Dog paused in amazement at his daring as he, sworn to let nothing stand in the way of delivering the mail, turned and returned to the front door. White Dog called for a second assault and YoYoMa stood front feet on the chair to assure the postman that the WDA was serious. And Quinn let out his deep bass "Woof!" "Woof!" The mail flew through the slot and this time, he cut across the neighbor's front yard to get out of sight quicker.
The WDA continued for a bit just in case he should try a sneak third try and then dissolved into yips of laughter. "Great job!" White Dog congratulated. "Wish we had that one on video!" "Those temps are almost TOO easy," YoYo commented.
"Ah, White Ones," I interjected. "It is only 10 days until Christmas--maybe you ought to consider that naughty or nice list? Wouldn't want to find nothing under the tree."
"Holy kitty litter," Nuka yipped. "I didn't even think of that! Maybe we should chase him and apologize." "Probably not the best plan," I counselled.
A reminder: The White Dog Army wants our community to be thinking of where each of you might spread a bit of Christmas magic. Siku Marie's (The White Dog) seventh birthday is December 22nd, next Thursday. To celebrate, her brothers and sisters will randomly draw seven lucky winners from the comments left on her day. Each winner have the opportunity to choose a charity recipient of a special prize...and White Dog will have the thrill of her favorite kind of bash, a Pay It Forward Party.
She watched as the substitute mailman (obviously a Holiday Hire) pulled stacks of boxes out of his truck and carefully read the addresses. She remained in position and the others followed her cue while he piled six boxes, slung his mailbag over his shoulder, stooped to lift the stack into his arms. Her eyes gleamed as he walked up our driveway and she gave the Army a subtle signal.
The poor guy never saw it coming. Just as he reached the front door and was bending to place the packages against the door, White Dog sounded the "Mailman!" red alert!
Bedlam broke loose in a chorus of barks and howls straight from a horror movie and when the civil servant looked up into the window all he saw was White Dog leaping at the window, lips rolled back and teeth bared; in the background a sea of white fur surged to break loose.
He knocked over the stack and spent precious time replacing the boxes before he took off down the driveway chased by the continued Army call to action. THEN he realized that he had forgotten to slide the envelope mail into the slot.
White Dog paused in amazement at his daring as he, sworn to let nothing stand in the way of delivering the mail, turned and returned to the front door. White Dog called for a second assault and YoYoMa stood front feet on the chair to assure the postman that the WDA was serious. And Quinn let out his deep bass "Woof!" "Woof!" The mail flew through the slot and this time, he cut across the neighbor's front yard to get out of sight quicker.
The WDA continued for a bit just in case he should try a sneak third try and then dissolved into yips of laughter. "Great job!" White Dog congratulated. "Wish we had that one on video!" "Those temps are almost TOO easy," YoYo commented.
"Ah, White Ones," I interjected. "It is only 10 days until Christmas--maybe you ought to consider that naughty or nice list? Wouldn't want to find nothing under the tree."
"Holy kitty litter," Nuka yipped. "I didn't even think of that! Maybe we should chase him and apologize." "Probably not the best plan," I counselled.
A reminder: The White Dog Army wants our community to be thinking of where each of you might spread a bit of Christmas magic. Siku Marie's (The White Dog) seventh birthday is December 22nd, next Thursday. To celebrate, her brothers and sisters will randomly draw seven lucky winners from the comments left on her day. Each winner have the opportunity to choose a charity recipient of a special prize...and White Dog will have the thrill of her favorite kind of bash, a Pay It Forward Party.