Our beagle Kirby fancies himself a watch dog. Most beagles are purely hunters and excel at taking naps. Our beagle apparently wants to moonlight. This skill of Kirby’s mainly involves him running around the backyard, while he barks at imaginary adversaries, or beginning to bark and run around like crazy, when he spots the mail carrier halfway up the block.
Our self-appointed watch dog, Kirby taking a rare break.
Last night, as we slumbered peacefully, Kirby was curled up in our son Jacob’s bed. Then out-of-the-blue at 12:30-something AM Kirby starts barking and freaking out at the top of the stairs, which overlook the sidewalk. Stumbling out in my minimalist pajamas (I promise not to frighten you with details), I scolded our pup, told him to stop barking, and began carrying him back to Jacob’s room. Then way down below on the sidewalk, I saw the cause of his concern. Two very average adults were walking by in the winter air. A man in front and a woman close behind, who seemed to be trailing, because she was looking at her phone. Thinking they were simply two folks walking on their way home from a night shift at work or something, I returned to bed.
Flash forward several hours… opening the front door to get the morning papers, I saw the true cause for Kirby’s post-midnight concern. There scattered across out lawn were the various torsos and heads of many of our beloved snowmen. We had been attacked and I had ignored Kirby’s warnings. He had been successful in his perceived guard dog duties and I had scolded him. Bad, David, bad.
Snowman carnage, not for the faint of heart.
Sadly, the pumpkin headed snowdog could not be saved.
Over the next hour, I reassembled snowmen to the best of my abilities. I could not let the vandals win. Picking up body parts and repairing our damaged light up reindeer (now held together with duct tape and a prayer), I contemplated how I should respond. What should be the message of my snowmen? “Vandals are Naughty, Not Nice.” “These Snowmen Don’t Run.” “Beat It, Punks!”
No, no, no. As my fingers grew cold, I looked to my dog, who was staring out the front porch window. Again, watching. Again, waiting. Kirby had the right idea. Instead of seeking some sort of vengeance, I should also be on watch. I should be focusing on the coming celebration. The birth of our savior is coming. Take it from the beagle, being on watch is oh so appropriate at Christmas time.
Focus on the joys of the season, only 17 days remain until Christmas… note all of the expertly repaired snowmen in our front yard.
If all else fails, our midnight visitors will be in for quite the surprise, when they go to attack this snowman.