Articles for Christians

Bridget Would Like to Set the Record Straight

Hello. Bridget here.

I recently became aware that the cats have been talking about how important they are around here.

Naturally.

Cats do a lot of talking about themselves.

Sunrise looked up from his comfortable spot.

“We don’t talk about ourselves that much.”

Miss Molly blinked.

“We really don’t.”

Explorer added, “We are simply acknowledging our importance.”

Exactly.

So I feel it is time that someone explained who is actually doing the work around this place.

Me.

There is ONE dog living here.

One.

And apparently, I am responsible for everything.

Yard Security

First of all, I am in charge of protecting the yard.

This is not an easy job.

I am on duty 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

I must watch for:

• Unauthorized humans
• Squirrels
• Possums
• Armadillos
• Strange animals
• Suspicious noises
• Things moving in the bushes
• Things that might have moved in the bushes
• And anything else that enters the yard without first consulting me

The cats don’t seem particularly concerned about any of this.

They just sit there.

Sometimes they stare at me like I’m the one causing the disturbance.

Canelo stretched.

“That squirrel wasn’t bothering anybody.”

That is exactly what a squirrel wants you to think.

Snowbell sighed.

“It was on the fence, Bridget.”

THE FENCE IS THE PERIMETER.

The cats stared at me.

Excuse me.

I AM SECURITY.

Chicken Protection Division

And I haven’t even mentioned the chickens.

One night, I was inside the house when I heard something suspicious outside.

Did everyone else hear it?

Apparently not.

But I did.

SECURITY NEVER SLEEPS.

I alerted management, and when the door opened, I ran outside to investigate.

There was a possum trying to chew its way into the chicken house!

The chickens immediately began discussing the situation.

“SOMETHING IS EATING THE HOUSE!”

“WHO IS EATING THE HOUSE?”

“WHY IS SOMETHING EATING THE HOUSE?”

“EVERYBODY PANIC!”

Honestly, chickens are not especially helpful during security emergencies.

Possums will eat chickens and eggs, so this was not one of those situations where management could tell me:

“Bridget, it’s fine. Come back inside.”

No.

This was an ACTUAL INTRUDER.

I ran after that possum and chased it away from my chickens.

The chicken house became quiet.

Then I heard:

“Is it gone?”

Yes.

“Are you sure?”

YES.

A chicken cautiously looked around.

“Good dog.”

Thank you.

Finally, somebody around here appreciates me.

That’s right.

My chickens.

Speckles objected immediately.

“They are MY chickens.”

Fine, Speckles.

Our chickens.

I may not live in the chicken house. I may not lay eggs. And I certainly don’t understand why chickens make half the decisions they make.

“We could say the same thing about dogs,” Speckles said.

Nobody asked you, Speckles.

But they live on my property, and therefore they fall under Bridget’s Protection Services.

Sometimes there really is something outside.

Sometimes…

THE THREAT IS REAL.

You’re welcome, chickens.

No need to thank me.

Although I would not object to some form of edible recognition.

Cat Protection Services

And speaking of animals that need protecting, guess who is also responsible for protecting the cats?

That’s right.

Me.

“We don’t need protecting,” Sunrise said.

Really?

Let’s discuss the neighborhood dogs.

On the right side is Piglet, an older dog.

On the left side is Cloa, a young dog who apparently considers fences more of a suggestion than a rule and keeps getting out.

Then there is Sally, who frequently walks in front of our house.

If another dog gets too close to my cats, I have responsibilities.

Explorer looked offended.

“Your cats?”

Yes.

MY CATS.

Miss Molly narrowed her eyes.

“We belong to the humans.”

That’s fine.

You belong to the humans.

I protect the humans. Therefore, I protect you.

The cats became quiet.

Canelo finally said:

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Close enough.

And before anybody suggests that Piglet doesn’t count because he’s older, I would like to enter something into the official record.

The Great Piglet Canal Incident

About a year ago, management and I were walking down in the canal.

The cats were around too.

Everything was peaceful.

Then Piglet got out of his yard.

He saw the cats.

Piglet started barking and growling and running after them.

I was down in the canal with management.

The cats were up on the hill.

I knew exactly what was happening.

CAT SECURITY EMERGENCY.

I ran up that hill.

Piglet wanted to continue after the cats.

I had other plans.

I got between Piglet and my cats.

And I refused to let him go any farther.

I growled.

I snapped at him.

My message was very simple:

YOU ARE NOT GETTING PAST ME.

And Piglet didn’t.

The cats were safe.

There was a moment of silence.

Then Explorer spoke.

“I had the situation under control.”

Of course you did.

“I did.”

You were being chased.

“I was executing a strategic retreat.”

Canelo nodded thoughtfully.

“That does sound better.”

Sunrise looked at me.

“You really weren’t going to let him get to us, were you?”

Nope.

Not happening.

Snowbell quietly said, “I told you I was grateful.”

I KNEW IT.

Miss Molly sighed.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Bridget.”

Too late.

I am absolutely making a big deal out of it.

Because when I say Director of Cat Protection, I have experience.

I have references.

The references are the cats.

The cats collectively groaned.

So while the cats are busy doing whatever extremely important cat business they claim to be doing, I have to keep track of all these dogs.

Are the cats grateful?

I’m sure they are.

Deep, deep down.

Very deep.

Human Comfort Department

Apparently yard security, chicken protection, and cat protection aren’t enough.

I am also employed in the Human Comfort Department.

If one of my humans is upset, hurting, tired, or just needs somebody nearby, I help.

I sit with them.

I check on them.

I stay close.

This is very important work.

“We do that too,” Sunrise protested.

Yes.

The cats do this too.

But there are five of them.

There is still only one of me.

Five cats.

One dog.

I would like that entered into the official record.

Canelo yawned.

“Sounds like a staffing problem.”

And Now… Physical Therapy

Recently, management has added another responsibility to my job description.

Physical Therapy Assistant.

Management is recovering from a back injury and needs to gradually get stronger again.

Apparently walking is part of this.

Do you know who likes walking?

ME.

Finally, management has assigned me a job for which I am exceptionally qualified.

My responsibilities include encouraging management to get up, go outside, and walk.

I take this assignment very seriously.

There is a schedule.

There is a route.

There is forward movement.

There is a mission.

And sometimes…

There is Snowbell.

Snowbell often decides that he would like to walk with management and me for a little ways.

At first, everything goes well.

Management walks.

I walk.

Snowbell walks.

For a brief and beautiful moment, we look like a highly organized physical therapy team.

Then Snowbell sees something.

He stops.

“Hold on.”

We are walking, Snowbell.

“I know.”

Then why did you stop?

“There’s something interesting over here.”

There is always something interesting over there.

A bush needs investigating.

Something moves in the grass.

There’s a smell that requires his immediate attention.

A bug may need watching.

Perhaps there is a particularly fascinating spot of dirt.

Management and I keep walking.

Snowbell does not.

“Snowbell!”

“I’m coming!”

He catches up.

We continue.

Then…

“Wait.”

WHAT NOW?

“I need to look at this.”

This is why Snowbell is not in charge of physical therapy.

Snowbell looked offended.

“I am helping.”

You keep stopping.

“I’m still walking.”

Occasionally.

I thought about the situation.

Fine.

Snowbell can join the department.

Physical Therapy Intern.

Snowbell seemed satisfied with that.

He walked beside us again.

For a little while.

Then he spotted something else.

“I’ll catch up!”

Of course you will.

This is why I am the professional.

Management may occasionally believe that we have walked far enough.

I may occasionally disagree.

This is why management is still in charge of deciding when we turn around.

I am merely the professional motivator.

Snowbell is the easily distracted intern.

Bridget’s Official Job Description

So let’s review.

I am:

Head of Yard Security
Chief Intruder Detection Officer
Squirrel Surveillance Specialist
Possum and Armadillo Monitor
Chicken House Night Watch
Poultry Protection Specialist
Director of Cat Protection
Neighborhood Dog Watch Commander
Human Comfort Specialist
Walking Motivation Coordinator
Assistant Physical Therapist

Snowbell raised a paw.

“And I’m the Physical Therapy Intern.”

Yes, Snowbell.

Physical Therapy Intern: Snowbell

“Put that on the official list.”

Fine.

But let’s be clear.

I perform all of my duties while being the only dog on staff.

The cats have five employees in their department.

I have me.

“We don’t work for you,” Sunrise reminded me.

That’s not the point.

So the next time the cats start talking about how much work they do around here, I would just like everyone to remember one thing:

The cats may run the house.

A chorus came from behind me.

“We DO run the house.”

Fine.

The cats run the house.

But I protect the whole operation.

From the chicken house came a voice.

“She did chase the possum.”

Thank you!

Finally!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard something outside.

It could be a squirrel.

It could be an armadillo.

It could be another possum.

It could be a leaf.

Canelo looked out the window.

“It’s a leaf.”

SUSPICIOUS LEAF.

Snowbell headed toward the door.

“I’ll come with you.”

I looked at him.

Are you going to get distracted?

“No.”

We stepped outside.

Snowbell stopped.

“Wait. There’s something over here…”

Of course there is.

BRIDGET IS ON DUTY.

And management should probably consider a raise.

Preferably payable in treats. 🐕🐈🐓