For years I’ve had the chance to have one of God’s most beautiful creatures live with me. A Black Lab. From the day I got him at six weeks and five days old, he has enveloped my life. Food, cleaning, dog house, bedding, vet trips, dog tags, training -ha- and repairs are annoying at times. He used to get a toy a month until I had to remove some 70 from the back yard in order to mow the lawn. I tossed all into his empty swimming pool. Yes, I bought the dog a swimming pool.

He went from being cute and adorable to cute, destructive and almost comical. I say almost because of his antics.

He was just over four months old and spent an entire night stealing a bag of Portland Cement from across the road from semi-weekend residents. Heaven knows, I am happy they are not in this forest all the time.

From day one, I told them, not to feed or pet him. Should he cross the road to visit him to send him home post haste no matter what they thought of doing except shooting him.

Oh no... They bought him treats. The husband taught him a couple of tricks I’ve never broken him from doing. When they left about forty pounds of cement covered to complete a project the next day. The open bag got lighter for him to pull because with each step the contents were spilling out and leading a trail to my backyard. The dew of the night settled the cement so there was no way for the wind to blow it away.

I heard the folks screaming early that morning and they followed the trail to my yard and found their empty bag.

I repeated my admonishing of them of sending him home and not buying him treats. No, I did not pay for them to get another bag of cement.

They continued to buy him treats. We had another conversation that was basically a "NO" to the dog. I was still ignored by the couple.

Months later, I hear screaming again.

The weather was warm and I looked out to see my brat running behind my house. He had stolen the remains of an open five pound bag of sugar from their kitchen. They let him in the house for treats. He left with the bag of sugar.

The woman of the house had a country garden. She was bagging vegetables to take to the city. My brat stole a bag of vegetables. I hear her screaming for him to return. He dropped the bag. Yes, he was hiding in my back yard by now.

No amount of money would entice me to eat those vegetables no matter how they are prepared.

I’m a city girl. I am a bucket gardener. One late hot August afternoon, I drove to a surprise "Welcome Home" celebration and thought nothing of the decorative garden exposed. The brat had never bothered the buckets.

It was late when I returned. The motion lights came on and the brat greeted the car and disappeared. I stepped from the carport to go in the front door. I screamed. I thought a rattlesnake was resting on the warmth of the bottom step in the August cooler air.

The brat had picked every tomato from the plants and lined them up on the bottom step. He must have artistic sense because they were lined from smallest to the largest.

This winter has been a problem weather-wise for many. We have been short of rain and on a high fire watch. For whatever reason, one of our ponds has water. It had been dry for nearly ten years.

When the pond dried we lost the traffic stopping sight of African Ibis birds frolicking in the water. We had news teams on the US Highway that abuts our land to document the birds. They had come in to the harbor many miles away when a ship docked and the birds scattered. Lucky us. We got them.

Last week we had grey skies and a promise of rain. The rain finally came. The noise of the wind and it’s collateral noise of our Stars and Stripes plus "Eagle and Anchor" on the flag pole were louder than the rain.

It rained all night. The "sandman" let me ignore the noise and I slept. When morning came I opened the draperies and saw standing water. I looked around and saw what I thought was torn blue plastic tarps. Oh, no!!! Now what has the brat gotten into and if it is from the sometime neighbors, I will not pay for whatever he has destroyed because they still give him treats. Never is it anything I approve of him having.

As I was about to begin my investigation, I saw the most beautiful blue sky reflecting on the water in the dwindling puddles in the yard.

Yes, I owe the dog an apology. For the first time in nearly ten years, he did not do it.

Patricia Barbee © 2009