Much ado about nothing…

Three slatted sections that once were the fold-up frame of a futon bed have taken on new life as barricades to keep the dog confined on the porch on these mild spring days until a prefabricated dog pen we bought can be arranged under the walnut tree.

Although she has definitely found her voice, and is somewhat noisier now than when she left the animal shelter and came home with us in late November, she is not a yappy little dog. We are very grateful. I visited some friends Sunday who have a miniature Pinscher. They threw her outside when I arrived and she barked just about continuously for the 90 minutes I was there. I don’t know how they stand it.

At any rate, we have come back from our morning walk, Miss Molly is resting comfortably on the porch, I have settled down in my chair and am working away... and all is well.

And then suddenly it isn't. A barrage of frenzied barking shatters the peaceful morning. She has gone ballistic.

I heave myself to my feet, order my knees to cooperate – they seem to stiffen up after I have exercised and then sit down – and I make my way out to the porch to judge the scale of the threat we might be facing.

I expect she is barking at a squirrel or perhaps a chipmunk. But she is not staring up into the trees, she is staring down the driveway.

I look down the driveway in the direction she is staring. Now that I am there to appreciate her vigilance, the volume increases.

Look Out! Alert! Danger!

A box turtle is about to cross the driveway.