Itâs me again- Detroit Snappenbarker Mendoza, the Farm Manager around here. Itâs been forever since youâve heard from me. Honestly thereâs been so many things to keep track of, that writing has not been a priority. Iâm no stranger to the pen, you might say- I do keep careful records of crops, spray, weather, and traffic that goes past our place- so thereâs lots of data to be had. But anyhow. Here I am, back again on the blog smog
I just donât get my human family. The girls all rush in and out and show up with varying levels of worthless dogflesh and Iâm supposed to be in charge of training them to help around here. Sweet. đ And then when these pure bred dogs donât meet expectations- guess who gets yelled at? The one with the high profile expensive papers? Or your humble servant mutt? Itâs unbelievable!
This weekend was another round of training with the youngest member on the force. Pagosa White has been around for over a year now, but sheâs only under my tutelage occasionally. (Most of the time she’s employed at the neighbors dairy) The family left us at home for a few hours and returned to see that the extension cord somebody forgot to put away was in about 500 pieces.

The adorable blonde not so innocent Pegs
I met them at the lane with my tail engaged in the slow âIâm so glad youâre home and you wonât believe what happenedâ wag. They got out of the truck in disbelief and after Pagosa fell all over herself exclaiming about how good it was to see them, they calmly said âPegs! Bad dog!â And that was it.
I followed KH around the corner of the house and watched as she put a few things up out of reach of the chewing monster. It seemed a little fishy that Pagosa climbed up on the picnic table to inspect what all KH put there- but hey-what do I know?
Iâm more of a morning dog, so I headed to bed in decent time leaving the night patrol to Rolo and the assistants assistant- the chewing maniac. Wrong move.

Rolo pretending to sleep in the midst of turmoil
As the sun slipped over the mountains, and shone its merry rays on our back yard, you wouldnât believe the war zone that greeted us: plants had been uprooted, flower pots chewed to pieces, the rain gauge is no longer accurate, and everything that was on the picnic table was all over the yard in pieces.

Pegs and the not guilty Farm Manager
KH assessed the damage and said some stern things to Pagosa, but what happened next is what I couldnât believe- she looked at me and said âDetroit! Why didnât you stop her?â My heart crushed into as many pieces as that rain gauge and my tail gave about two thumps. What me?! Itâs punishment enough to have to spend most of the night listening to the chewing, let alone being responsible to stop it. What about Rolo? She was sure as involved with this mess as I am.
So Iâve had it. Iâm sick of being chewed out for things being chewed up.
Next thing that gets destroyed might be me going after those fancy spancy pedigree papers. Maybe that would slow down the crunching.
Your humble mutt and farm manager,
Detroit Snappenbarker Mendoza