Is There A New Political Candidate On The Stump?

As I’ve written about my canine companion, Bubba, in the past he’ll not be a stranger to those that follow my musings. Bubba – whose name I’ve shortened to “Ubba” has grown another two inches and 15 pounds since I last made him the object of my writing jones. I initially named the dog “Bubba” to insure my redneck status remained intact but after careful consideration decided I had nothing to worry about along those lines – my redneck status is assured no matter what! Ubba’s mama is definitely a Black Lab and his daddy is still a travelin’ sperm bank for lady canines

Ubba is actually a pretty dog – from the front. He’s got a wide chest with a little white on it, long, strong legs and big feet. He has Lab ears and is very tuned in to everything taking place around him. He’s really rather pretty when he’s got his ears up listening. It’s the back end of Ubba where the deal goes down. He’s rather parrot-butted and has a long, bushy, CURLY tail that screams “cur dog – cur dog.” Some of the best dogs I’ve ever owned have been mixed breed but Ubba’s tail just does him no favors – it’s ugggggg-ly!

So many of my friends have said “You always have the smartest and most unusual pets,” and that’s indeed a compliment but I can claim no expertise at choosing smart or exceptional critters. An old cowboy once told me that anytime you found a pup with a “black mouth” (meaning the roof of his mouth) you’d never go wrong choosing that pup. Ubba does have a black mouth but my son chose him for me – I was not part of the “picking” process.

Ubba is now close to 15 months old, still big and bumbling and funnier than a cage full of monkeys. He’s also hopelessly in love with my big, long-haired, white cat named “Dirty White Boy,” who does not whole heartedly return his affection. I probably should have named that cat “Fattus Cattus” as he’s a tubby critter and quite lazy. Ubba takes great pleasure in interrupting Dirty White Boy’s cat naps which he takes in a chair on the front porch.

When Ubba’s big, black nose pokes this fat cat and wakes him the game is on. They’ll spar a bit and when Ubba’s too stupid to give up and go away he usually gets a pretty good swat across his nose, acts like he’s dying by howling like crazy, and brings all the neighbors outside to see what unearthly thing is taking place. It does, however (if one’s looking for an excuse) create an opportunity for neighbors to visit a bit.

I’ve always thought Labs like water. Ubba’s Lab half does not like water. He’ll go outside to take care of his doggy business before, after or during a rain but he’s not going to sit his parrot, dog butt on the wet ground. Initially, he’d sit on the concrete back steps but that was before nature turned the deal around in his favor. We had one hell of a storm and one of the huge pecan trees in my back yard split right down the trunk, vertically, leaving only about the bottom four feet of the huge tree holding the whole thing together.

The most interesting part, in the land of “what-ifs” was should it split the rest of the way and fell over it would literally crush the entire north end of my house -- and the wind was blowing hard. Under those circumstances it doesn’t take even a dim-witted, old lady very long to get someone in the backyard capable of taking the tree down – immediately. Now, dear hearts, if you’ve never watched that process you’ve missed some rather nerve-wracking events.

A crew of five guys showed up, one of them climbed to the top of the tree (chainsaw in hand) and began cutting branches from the top down. The tree was very old and probably three stories high (I can’t judge in feet so you just figure out how high a “story” is). They’d anchor the cut limbs with ropes and lower them to the ground – in fact, made it look pretty easy.

My ever growing concern was the guy in the top of the tree. If that tree decided to split the last four feet and nosedive his chances of coming down unscathed was slim and none. The process took all day just to cut and the next day to haul it all off. Ubba and I watched the whole process and I secretly grieved like hell as I love my trees and was losing an old friend. Admittedly I grieved a whole lot more when I had to write the check for this great tree adventure – it took a huge chunk out of my already slim bank account with the huge probability of a bank loan in my immediate future!

After all the tree guys left Ubba and I were left standing like a couple of orphans in the back yard in a brand new patch of sunlight that used to be in shade. I felt like a broke, penniless orphan and Ubba was just confused. All that was left of his “hike your leg” facility was a big, vacant, seemingly bare spot where the tree had been. There was, however, still a stump about three feet high – to which I’d agreed – and Ubba settled for. He marked the new stump as his and we went in the house.

The next morning I was standing at the kitchen sink and couldn’t believe my eyes. Ubba was out for his morning romp, it had been raining, he wasn’t going to sit on the wet ground so his big, goofy self was adorning the tree stump. He was sitting upright and perusing the back yard like a king on a throne. Since that morning the stump has become Ubba’s home away from home. He uses it kind of like a pacifier -- if he gets upset, scared, etc. he heads for that stump like it’s his first line of defense and refuses to dismount.

He takes his afternoon nap on the stump, all laid out like a big, black rug with ears and hanging off in every direction. If I scold him when we’re in the backyard he heads for his stump, jumps up there and stares at me as if to say, “Well, I’m safe now and you can’t get me here!” As I’ve never laid a hand on him he has no reason for such a goofy attitude but a dog that stump-sits should never be taken seriously anyway.

Ubba can also scoot out of my backyard like it’s greased and waiting on him to escape. He never chooses the same spot to leave nor the same spot to return – and he can return on his own. If I don’t notice he’s gone within a reasonable length of time he’ll dig back in; then bark for me to come in the backyard to share his “I’m a scoundrel” glee. On occasion he’s come to the front door and pounded on it for me to let him in. The dog’s not dumb by a long shot – mischievous – yes! It appears he’s just looking for adventure and wants to prove he can outsmart me. If he really wanted to leave he’d been gone long ago! The bottom of my chain link fence has now been secured with wire and landscape timbers. Whether or not he can chew through landscape timbers remains to be seen – I know he can run while carrying one in his mouth and chew through chain link fencing.

As I cogitate on the crazy critters I’ve owned – well, there’s been a bunch of them. I had a pet chicken once named Mary Margaret. We were living out in the country and she was murdered by a mountain lion. Yep, we do still have a few big cats in this part of Texas but they’re disappearing fast. Mary Margaret had quite a personality, I loved her and I don’t even like chickens on the hoof. Ubba Dog isn’t the strangest of my critter world now or in memory – yet – but he’s fast approaching first place.

I’m sure my snooty neighbor, who already thinks I’m very strange, is waiting to see what happens next at my house. I think I worried her when I told her what good pets goats made! Come to think of it Ubba’s better on the stump than any politician out there in my opinion. My NICE next door neighbor made an interesting comment this afternoon. We were laughing at Ubba sitting on his stump and Bill said, “Never seen a dog on the stump but gonna think it over – might vote for him – ANYBODY but Obama!”

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