Bartles and Jaymes, two adorable Miniature Schnauzers, were our first furry-four-legged family members.

We had recently moved to Monterey and they loved being outside to explore their new world.

They had a big fenced-in corner lot to run and investigate.
It was a great yard for a breed that was once used to catch rodents hiding in ground tunnels, because this large yard was loaded with gophers and their holes.
No grass, just dirt and what looked like hundreds of gopher holes.
Gophers were a new experience to our two “boys” and us.
Neighbors told us that some of those holes went all the way to Pebble Beach!
I believed it because I fell through a few of those holes so deep that I thought I was headed for Pebble Beach!

Shortly after going outside, the barking began.

Barking was no big deal, that’s what dogs do but non-stop barking was
an alert to me that something was going on out there.

I heard a pattern develop, they were taking turns; one bark from Bart then one from Jim, over and over. 


After a few minutes, I took a peek out the kitchen window.
The sight was amusing.
They were standing across from each other, nose to nose over a gopher hole. 

The brown furry top of a little gopher’s head could be seen ever so
slightly protruding from the hole. 

The dogs would bark, then quickly step back.
Little brown gopher would then pop up high, smack between them, look around, then in a blink, dive back down. 


He looked like a hand-puppet, popping up and down with two big beaver-looking teeth dominating his face.


Bartie and Jimmy, who usually had very serious Schnauzer looks on
their faces had perked ears and their open mouths made them look like they were amused and smiling.

Their front legs were down low, their noses much too close to the gophers
business and their butts high in the air with quick wagging nubby tails that
resembled windshield wipers on a very rainy day.
Their body language told me they were having dog fun.

Not knowing gopher behavior, I wasn’t sure if that little guy
was teasing, playing or freaking out.
Whatever, I didn’t feel the need for human interference.
I would think gophers figured dogs out a long time ago and so far I hadn’t seen anything that made me concerned.

While I was window peeking on them, little brown gopher decided to make a run for it.
That was a bad move, a very bad move.

Bartie and Jimmy were buff.
They worked-out every day.
They’d run the yard, over and over at a very high dog-speed.
They were able to make hair-pin turns on a moments thought and could jump and pounce like foxes I’ve seen on National Geographic.

Little brown gopher ran at break neck speed leaving poofs of dust
from under his scurrying little feet.
He was low to the ground and resembled a furry wind-up toy.
Bartie and Jimmy were hot on his tail and the dirt flew. 

There were plenty of opportunities for him to jump down a hole, they
were all over the yard but suddenly he just stopped.
He sat up on his hind legs, probably thinking he was fierce and just the sight of him so tall would scare the two noisy chasers away.

Bartie and Jimmy put on their brakes, skidded in the dirt and came to a halt.

It then turned into a stare down. All three were still.

And then as if given a signal, little brown gopher took off again with
two barking dogs right behind him.

This scene repeated itself 2 or 3 times before Jimmy decided to take
a chance and make a move.

Jimmy was the known coward of the three-year-old furry brothers so I
could barely believe my eyes when I watched him break the stare-down by
slowly stretching out his stiff front paw, cautiously reaching forward to
touch little brown gopher on the head.

Little gopher didn’t flinch.

This act gave Jimmy an immediate shot of courage and he began his happy, stiff-legged jumping which always made me laugh.
I knew he felt tremendously brave and barked loudly and proudly as he hopped around the gopher in a circle.
His ears flopped freely and he jumped as if he had springs on the bottom of his feet.
His legs didn’t bend, he jumped high and turned his body while in the air, then landed back on the stiff legs.
It was his way.

Bartie and little gopher remained motionless in their stare-down
while Jimmy did his thing.

Again on a whim, little brown gopher took off, this time he was
headed straight for the white picket fence with two dogs behind him in hot
pursuit.

He seemed to be on a mission, like he knew where he was going.
He took a leap, landed in a hole barely on the yard side of the fence and in a heartbeat popped back up on the other side. SAFE!

This caused much Schnauzer aggravation.
They stood looking through the white boards of the fence, barking their displeasure with little gophers slick move.

I was on my way out to try to distract them and stop the barking when
little brown gopher, who was safely on the other side of the fence, came
back into the yard.
At this point, I had to think it was a game.

The chasing ritual began, this time when they stopped, I was close
enough to see the little gopher’s eyes make contact with the barkers.
He opened his mouth for them to see what a vicious creature he was and that if he wanted to, he could rip them apart. 

Jimmy went right back to what worked before; reaching out, touching then doing his dance routine. 

Bartie was alpha-dog.
The pressure was too much for him.
Jimmy had already made contact, he had to do something. 

It happened in a flash.
Bartie opened his mouth wide, charged forward, scooped up little brown gopher in his mouth then flipped his head high in the air and little brown gopher was an airborn Frisbee.

I watched in horror as he landed in the dirt with a little plop.
It didn’t look real.
He looked like a small stuffed, very limp, toy.
We were all still for a moment and then the little guy was up and running.

I joined the chase, trying to back Bartie and Jimmy down and convince the little guy the game was over, get out of the yard.

We must have been a great sight for the large turkey vulture who was watching the show while perched atop the telephone pole on the corner of the yard; the gopher, two dogs and me.

Then it happened again, Jimmy had the gopher in his mouth.
Like a football player, he had that ball and he was headed for a touchdown.

I called to him, commanded he “come” but he wasn’t hearing me, he was being a dog.
I think the more upset I sounded, the more control he had and was enjoying it.
That was very unlike Jimmy’s normal behavior but as I mentioned, he was being a dog.

Bartie was barking-mad and chasing his brother.
Jimmy pranced proudly like a pony in a parade, brown fur hanging out of his mouth.
I didn’t know what to do. 

I ran to the porch and beckoned them to follow me, knowing that
meant Jimmy might come inside with the contents of his mouth which was
nothing I wanted to deal with so I had to be prepared to slam the door fast.

Very reluctantly Jimmy dropped the little brown bundle and trotted
toward the house.

I closed my eyes, held my breath and wished my hardest wish that
little brown gopher could move and get out of the yard.

I opened my eyes to a loud flapping sound, just in time to see the
vulture swooping down into the yard.
He walked around the still body, kinda inspecting.
I knew what he was thinking…dinner!

I understand the food chain.
I respect the food chain but it just wasn’t gonna happen in my front yard.

I waved my arms and suggested rather loudly that it was time for him
to go.
I began moving toward him.
I wasn’t real sure I wanted to tangle with this big, ugly guy.
He watched me for a moment then flapped his very large wings again and was gone.

I wrapped little brown gopher in a doll blanket from the toy box.
I dug a resting spot for him behind the garage in between two probably very
familiar gopher holes.

Later I wondered about little brown gopher.
Why did he come back into the yard once he was safe?
Why didn’t he just dive into one of those holes and disappear for awhile?


I hear my young adult grandson’s voice telling me he wants to
experience everything in life he possibly can.
He doesn’t want to miss a thing.

I think to myself; be careful my little gopher.
Be aware of the Bartles & Jaymes’ in this world and stay away….. far, far away from the Vultures.