Tequila’s Growing Up!

Tequila is NOT a ferocious dog.

She’s not a watch dog, since she never barks.
She’s not a guard dog, since she greets strangers by lying on her back and spreading her legs. And other animals (especially cats) frighten her.
She could never be a guide dog, since she hardly obeys commands. Nor could she be a rescue-dog, because she gets lost the moment she turns the corner away from our home. How could she ever find someone who’s lost, let alone guide them to safety?

So she’s just a companion-dog... a mushmellow of love who lives for food and cuddling.

But she’s still a dog.


Last night, I let her out as I got ready for bed, as I do every night. Only a few minutes after I shut the backdoor, my brother and I heard something. “Is that Tequila?”

“Barking?” I responded. “I doubt it.”

So we went along with our usual business.

But then I heard it, too. It was something I’d never heard before. A deep, bellowing, wallop of a noise — a bark from a big, ferocious, dog.

I rushed outside to see who the culprit was… only to find my floppy golden retriever standing fixed on the back steps, eyes glued to the back fence. “Tequila? Was that really you?” She wouldn’t even turn to look at me.

I followed her gaze to, as I anticipated, find nothing. Figures, if Tequila barks, it’s at nothing — literally.

But then it caught my eye. A funny glisten in the night sky; a strip of something else pressed against the blackness of my backyard. A stripe. A white stripe, ending just above two gleaming, green, beady eyes.

A skunk.

PANIC! Without pausing to think I grabbed the dog, yanked her in the back hallways, fell over backwards under her weight (neither of us are very coordinated), and began screaming at the top of my lungs — repeatedly — “QUICK SHUT THE DOOR QUICK SHUT THE DOOR QUICK!” Alex emerged from the kitchen, took a second to register Tequila and I tangled in her dog-run on the floor, and dared to ask, “Why?”

“SKUNK!”

Sure enough, Alex poked his head out the door, saw the beast, and slammed it quicker and harder than it’s meant to be shut.

“Wow,” he said. One would assume his surprise was from seeing a skunk in the density of the city. But no; Alex was surprised for a far simpler reason. “Tequila was actually barking at something.” I beamed with pride. My baby isn’t such a wimp after all!

So we showered in her affection, stuffed her full of biscuits, and told her what a brave ferocious beast she was.

All because of one big bark at one small stinky animal.

Good girl!