Sounding the Alarm

As stated in my contract which I signed in paw print before coming to live with Kirsten, one of my jobs is to be a watchdog. You can imagine I take this responsibility seriously. I suspect there are others out there who have a similar position in their household. Many of you, my fellows in letting off the timely warning bark, hope like I do to be the best one can be at this job. The following is the code I seek to follow everyday.

I am a watchdog. I serve the forces which guard my home and way of life. I am prepared to give my best to perform my duty.
I will act as a watchdog at all times whatever my situation. I will act as a watchdog while napping. I will act as a watchdog while eating. I will act as a watchdog while sleeping.
I will not fail to bark at the approach of any person to the house. I will not fail to bark at the approach of any animal to the house.
I will not cease barking until I am assured the situation has been ascertained as acceptable by Kirsten or myself.
I will not sound any alarm at Kirsten's approach to the house. I will her car or the way she holds her keys that she must instead be greeted with happy bounces and tail wags.
I will never forget that I am Kirsten's watchdog.

A honourable salute to all those who serve with me in homes of their own. Bark with pride, and know that you do not bark alone.

Fern

On Barking

One's philosophy of barking long distance is very important. The humans, I am told, have an elaborate history where it concerns long distance barking. My breed has used the same standard methods for some 3,000 years, all the way back to our earliest days wandering the hills of Wales. My research has shown that some nearby humans were using a similar method to our long distance bark which they called "piping" and which they accomplished with a sack that was sometimes floppy, sometimes puffy, and always had very inviting sticks poking out of it. I must sadly add that we were not, under any circumstances, allowed to chew on this "bagpipe", as they called it, even though the humans themselves frequently put their mouths on it. Drawbacks considered, I hold this to be the golden age of human long distance barking achievement. At this time they had also established the "post" which allowed one to send lingering smells to another human but which, I am told, was only capable of sending "silent" barks. When we dogs send smells to one another we leave out the silent barks as we have no use for them. Later a Mr. Alexander Graham Bell gave humankind a contraption which sent audible barks over distances but which left out smells altogether. I can only imagine the miscommunications that must occur with such unsound principles. The internet, which appeared during the time of my grandsires, produced long distance barks which were both smell and sound free. While I have stooped certain instances of this methodology, such developments not only make me lament the general direction humanity must be heading but also make me very suspicious of notions such as keeping dogs quiet and bathed. This brings me back to my original point, vis. the importance of a bark philosophy. I hold that if one can bark as far as one can smell and hear one need not ask for more--take your stand and bark well. Let me give an example of the significant activity one can accomplish with these principles. With just one well planned bark (planned, I might add, through information gathered by scent and sound) I can set the dog a few houses back into a frenzy of yaps, subsequently setting its person into a series of ignored commands for silence. One bark. Continued smug enjoyment. Just imagine the potential here. You may not think it when tacked to the end of this wordy post, but I tend to think deeply about my barks, and I deposit them carefully. That is my preference, I realize, and not a universal dog trait. I wonder, Reader, what your philosophy of barking is? It would be a great gain to my research on the topic if you would venture to share it.
Fern