Defending the Fort

Though Damsel is old and fragile and arthritic these days, I still take her for short walks, which always pass the house of a neighbor who has a large dog of some variety in his responsibly walled-and-gated back yard, and one or two chihuahuas who are small enough to slither under the gate. These guardians of the turf fly into barky hysterics every time any other dog passes the wall (as is their duty). Damsel likes to pee  outside the gate, to annoy them.

This evening as I passed, one of the chihuahuas had gotten out, and was standing in the driveway. He saw Damsel, flew into vociferous rage, braced his little feet, barked his little head off (while Damsel just stood there and looked at him - she's a Pekinese and is NOT impressed) - then he turned around and darted back to slither under the gate again. And it wasn't easy, he had to wriggle and struggle and push to get himself under, but evidently anything was better than the danger that another dog (even one his own size) was going to call his bluff.

I love animals. They're so completely free of bullshit.