Minds me... last fall at the camp, I was at #6 camp (there are six camps in a row along a stretch of the river) and there was an old bitch who moved very slowly. She was a good sized dog of whatever mix and very well behaved... you know the type. From #4 camp came Rocky, a two year old Golden Retriever, about a quarter the size again of the bitch. He saw her and began huffing and puffing and kind of prancing in, real tough like. She sat quietly, perhaps admiring the hunter's orange vest his doting "mother" straps on him during hunting season.

As soon as he the property line, she blazed at him and proceeded to put the boots to him. After the dust settled, Rocky was high-tailing it back home and she was sitting at the edge of the property with his orange vest in her mouth. Just like in the story above, we were all having a good laugh... but, when she dropped the vest right on the property line, turned, squatted and pissed on it, we fell apart. It was one of those, "I gotta get a video camera." moments.