After a winter of sleeping by the woodstove and only venturing out to do his business, Bud is back to obsessing on the squirrel who lives in the Maple tree.
He circles the tree or sits in one spot looking up, patient as a cat waiting for a mouse. When the squirrel makes a dash for one of the other two maple trees in the yard, Bud is on him running back and forth, sometimes whining in frustration.
Bud had caught a couple of moles and garter snakes, but I don’t think he’d know what to do with something as big as a squirrel. Chasing the squirrel gives Bud something to do besides digging holes in the yard, barking at the deer in the field across the road and the sheep on the other side of the fence.
And when the sun goes down, he is happy to be back in the house, snoring on his choice of furniture, no doubt dreaming about the squirrel in the maple tree.