Ever have one of those days where you know from the moment you wake up, that the day would be better spent hiding in a closet? This morning marked one of those memorable days for me.
I was snatched from my peaceful slumber by the unmistakable sound of a cat preparing to present me with a hairball. I sat up just in time for him to miss my head and leave his present on my pillow. As I stared in bleary eyed shock at this offering, I noticed a baby chicken perched upon my dresser. He was supposed to be in a brooder on the floor, but had managed to escape. While I mulled over the possibility of catching him before he managed to get under my water bed, my roommate's voice came shrieking through the wall. "Lingana and Talon are out!!!".
Aye, a lovely morning it was shaping up to be.
After catching the chick and returning him to the brooder, and kicking the cat out of my room, I staggered out into the early morning light to find that Lingana had managed to knock down an entire wall of his barn. This included a telephone pole that was sunk 2 feet into the ground and concreted in, and the 2x6s that had been used as siding, screwed into place with 4 inch screws no less. The stock panel that had been on the inside of the siding appeared as if a Kenworth had run through it. I had gotten this buck from someone who had grown weary of fixing things this
brat destroyed when he became bored, and as I recall I had rubbed it in about how Lingana wouldn't be able to put a dent into *my* concrete reinforced pole barn. I'm sure I also tossed in something about how I was too clever to build a barn that could be so easily destroyed. Foot, mouth, insert.
Upon his capture, I stuck him in the back yard, and went to fix the barn. The damage was unbelievable and looked like a good day's worth of work to repair. Gritting my teeth and mumbling about gift horses, I went to work. It never occurred to me to keep an eye on El Destructo.
About thirty minutes into the fix, I heard what sounded like a war in the house. One glance at the back yard showed me that while my *good* boy Talon was reclining under the tree and munching the hay I'd thrown them, Lingana was nowhere in sight. The only place he could have gone was into the garage, so I went to see what he was tearing up this time.
Change that. He had two options. Into the garage, or into the house. He chose the latter. Lingana had knocked the back door open and gone cruising through the house looking for snackies or women, or both. Instead, he found my elderly Doberman who even before that time had 3 feet in the grave, and my roommate's squirrelly puppy. Both dogs were most unimpressed with Lingana. Lingana was most unimpressed with the dogs. They barked and snarled. He reared up and came down. Hard. Over and over. A mistake by one of these dogs would have surely resulted in the offender's impudent self becoming part of the floorboards. Angrily, he chased my roommate's pup screeching across the couch. Did you know a full size buck can cross a loveseat in one stride? Irritated by the racket, my toothless old dog bit him, "gummed" is more accurate, and promptly got his own self chased into the bathroom.
Now my bathroom is only 7 1/2 by 9 ft. There's a full size tub in there, plus the throne and the sink. Lingana took up what little space was left - not even room to turn around. A dog cornered in this room was really cornered. Lingana had to be led into the tub so he could turn around, and then led out of the tub, where he promptly got loose again.
I'm embarrassed to admit I'd still had my Christmas tree up in the living room. It's down now. Finally. At least I won't have to pack away the remaining ornaments that were on it - Lingana left nothing to pack.
And the cats? I imagine they'll stay up on top of the fridge for at least another week.