One day shortly after we adopted our pug Sarah, I was straightening the master bedroom, placing little knick-knacks on the bed so our once-a-month cleaning lady, Louise, could dust the dresser tops. Suddenly, the quiet was interrupted by the most ungodly screech I’ve ever heard: an incessant, continuous, guttural-sounding “Grgrgrgrgrrraaaauuuurrrrrghghghghghghghghchchchchchch!”
Louise, running to the bedroom from the other end of the house, breathlessly called, “Maija, are you all right? Should I call 911?” After I assured her that I was fine, she exclaimed, “Lord, I thought you were being murdered! What was that awful sound? It scared me half to death!”
That awful sound was just Sarah, being enthusiastically vocal about guarding our home. She was emitting what we’ve come to call her “banshee shriek.” Without consulting my husband Bill or me, Sarah decided early on that her most important job is to keep the home front safe from the menacing monsters that populate our neighborhood.
Neither Bill nor I had known that monsters lurk in the guises of everyday mechanical conveyances, such as motor vehicles and lawn mowers. We learned that Sarah has a remarkable hatred of white vehicles, especially FedEx trucks; but she protects us from brown UPS trucks as well. She also despises yellow school buses. probably because she’s observed them swallowing children, whom she considers to be her best friends (even if she hasn’t met them yet).
These monsters apparently are dangerous only when they’re in motion or have just come to a stop. Parked vehicles don’t trouble her a bit, unless she observed them in motion before they stopped. Furthermore, she happily rides inside moving cars.
Nonetheless, Sarah does an excellent job of guarding us. She rushes to the window as soon as she suspects that a monster is in the area. She promptly sets about dispatching it out of the neighborhood before it can do any damage.
Indeed, we have not had a monster invade the house since Sarah joined our household.