Our precious pooch, Janie, alerted me to the presence of an enormous kite in our airspace last week. In full Lassie-mode, Janie whipped her head towards the giant kite on the horizon, then whipped her head back to me, urging me with her eyes to make that thing leave. She trotted back and forth between me and the fence barking with concern.
I tried to get Janie inside and distract her from the perceived threat in the sky, but she wasn't having it. Janie very rarely jumps at the door, but this kite had to be stopped, even if she had to open the door herself. After ten minutes of continuous barking and jumping at the door, I went back outside with her. We sat on the deck steps together. I hugged her tight and repeated, "it's okay. It's not going to get you." Still she watched worriedly, giving warning yips every few minutes. Even after the kite's merciful retreat, Janie wanted to run out every few minutes and check the sky for interlopers.
Tonight as I sat reading and Chad sat tapping on his keyboard, we heard Janie talking in her sleep, giving quiet tight-lipped yips. Chad quipped, "she's saying, don't let that kite get me. She's having a kite-mare."
