A couple of weeks ago, M and I decided that we were going to make a scarecrow for the front yard. The flowers in the bed are gone except for some mums flanking the steps and the area was looking a little sparse. So that’s what we did.
And as soon as it was in the ground, Mr. Tucker promptly ran up and bit it. (Of course he would.)
They quickly became friends.
A funny story about Pepe… (That’s what hubby named the scarecrow.) One of the neighbors flagged me down the other day to tell me that he got very nervous when he looked out the window and saw someone standing in the yard with his pants hanging down low, looking like he was up to no good. When he came outside to investigate, he saw the top half of the body and laughed himself silly that he was concerned about a scarecrow. I told him that it has scared me half-to-death at least a dozen times so he shouldn’t feel foolish.
With the heavy winds and rain we got this weekend, Pepe fell over and the color in his face ran a little. (Note to self: Sharpie takes artistic liberty with the term “permanent.”) Anyway, we came home on Saturday to find him passed out on the hay bale with his pants halfway down, looking like a drunk. He’s been quite problematic, this scarecrow.
We’re expecting lots of trick-or-treaters tonight and I’m looking forward to handing out goodies. Mr. Tucker will be dressing up as monster dog again this year. He will be on his best behavior which means he will be locked in the bedroom, howling his beastly face off.
Happy Halloween from our house to yours!