Our dog, Rory, has been in training for about the past year and a half. Chasing leaves, attacking bugs, and demolishing any toy that moves. Well, just as punching frozen meat prepared Rocky to become a champion, today our little Rory became a victorious protector of our home.
I woke up this morning and Evan had to leave for work, and Rory was out in the sun room barking like crazy. I'm thinking, "Of course, my hubby realized that I'm sleeping with our baby, hoping desperately that he doesn't wake up. Of course, he took the dog out this morning." I don't know why I thought this, because...well, yeah. Anyway, I finally get up in a huff to let the dog out and she is hunched next to her bed (which happens to be torn apart). So I go in to make sure everything is okay, and she is hunting. Y'all might be able to tell me exactly what this little guy is, but it looked like a little mole to me. She finally got it out of her bed, quickly caught it, and with a chomp and shake of her head, dropped it dead. I was in awe! I gave her lots of love and told her she was the best dog in the world. Doesn't she look so proud?! Our little puppy has grown up.