Day One Hundred Six

Guarding Against Isis

I am not aware of the tensile strength of our windows, but I'm guessing they're close to their breaking point. Jack should work in a testing facility to determine the viability of things such as windows, doors and drywall. He has tested all of those items in this house. So far, the doors have held; drywall has lost.

My heart has stopped twice this morning. Both times it was because Jack had thrown himself at a front window. When I ran to see if Isis was attacking, what I saw instead was a young man walking his Chihuahua past our house. The second time it happened, nothing was there. Now, in all fairness to Jack, maybe somebody did walk up to the window and stick their tongue out at him, then run and hide before I could catch them in the act. But I kinda doubt it. Once Jack's "Barney Fife" mode has been activated, everything looks like a potential terrorist - including a leaf merrily floating on the breeze.

Yelling at Jack only gets me a blank stare, like I'm too stupid to realize the real dangers lurking beyond the door. So, I try explaining things to him. Andy informed me that Bullmastiffs aren't even in the top twenty "smartest breeds" but they rank pretty high in "stubborn" and "breeds that ignore people." Jack exemplifies all of those traits when I try to explain things to him. He sits there with his head thrown back, like a linebacker who's had a few concussions, and just blinks at me. He isn't paying attention. I know this because my son has looked at me in the exact same way for over thirty years. Sometimes Jack has the audacity to yawn! I'm just waiting for him to cross his eyes the way my kid did to really send me into orbit.

Are you talking to me?

Then it occurred to me to try a technique I read about; used by animal communicators. Instead of words, use mental pictures which the animal can understand. So, I stood there trying to send Jack an image - I pictured him crashing through a window and severing an artery. I had blood squirting everywhere for effect. Then I pictured me, unable to lift his 180 pound self and crying over his lifeless body. Then, to really drive it home, I pictured an Isis brigade storming the house, and me with no guard dog left to protect me (Rooney was sleeping through all of this.)

Feeling pretty confident I had gotten through to Jack, I said, "Well, do you understand now?" His response, "What? Were you talking to me? I thought you were having a stroke. Hey, do you have any of that turkey left? Guarding you has made me hungry."