Hey, everyone! It’s me, your attention-loving and tail-wagging JournoDog!

Aside from sniffing out the sniffs and digging up scoops (of food and treats), another important task of any JournoDog is protecting my editorial space from false news, misinformation, and lies. That might include evil disinfo doers and bringers of danger.

Some of these hoomans wear special costumes to disguise themselves, carrying bags of meanness or boxes with evil smiles on the side. Dis JournoDog knows them for what they really are: murders. So, I must protect.

It is a demanding job, but someone has to do it.

Ma and Dad have a beautiful world of soft blankets, warm laps, and endless belly rubs. They keep me watered and fed, but they are… how shall I put it… acoustically challenged. They simply do not possess the supreme hearing I was gifted with.

On most evenings, Ma reappears after abandoning Dad and I at home what I can only calculate as days earlier. I’ve donated my time to Dad doing editorial assisting as JournoDog, with a few naps and yard laps sprinkled throughout.

And even all these many hours and days spent, they try to convince me it’s only been “1 day”… not sure what that means, but it must be how they view days gone by.

So Ma reappears. And I get happz and greet her with kisses and tail-wags.

Then, back into guard mode.

Here’s how a typical night goes for Ma and Dad with me guarding nearby:

The wind starts its shift, with a very suspicious vibration rattling my senses. It’s faint. But my doggo ears hear it, because I’m a good boi who guards so good.

It sounds like… a single, distant leaf deciding to be brave and trying to land on the porch instead of the grass. Maybe a hooman with a furry frend passing by the front window, whispering to me about dangers outside.

A bringer of danger may be nearing the porch, ready to burst down the front door and murder Ma and Dad and take me prisoner.

Or maybe it was a rogue dust bunny making a break for freedom under my front room sofa.

Whatever the source, the intent is clearly hostile.

I may have been sleeping with my eyes shut and a loud snore, because a true guardian must recharge. But always on alert, I spring into action from my comfy chair or soft carpet, from 0 to 100 with a sudden bark to alert all of the approaching danger.

I take up my position at the front window, the primary defensive battlement of the Castle. I inflate my chest, puff out my throat, and deliver the necessary Alpha Howl-Bark-Alert.

Now, the intensity may depend on the threat level. If it’s a doorbell or knock knock, I hold nothing back. My voice is designed to strip paint and shatter the confidence of any sneaky leaf or criminal contemplating an attack. Including those who deliver flat boxes of yummy smells, which are clearly attempts to trick Ma or Dad so they can poison them and take me.

Maybe it’s a bit less of a howl-bark if there’s no doorbell or knock-knock. But rest assured, I’m on alert. Sounds of my clickity clacks and tippity taps on the tile and wood floors soon fill the house.

And what’s the typical response of my hoomans?

Dad jumps a foot in the air, fumbling his Stare Hand Cube and voicing his frustration that yet another danger is trying to murder him or warp his mind. He might even jump up and go check the front window, clearly aware of my wisdom in guarding the castle.

“What are you barking at, you goofball? There’s nothing there!”

Then he tells Ma, “Must be imagining things again.” She nods in agreement.

Imagining things? The nerve! They hear nothing, and by the time they get around to double-checking, I’ve done my job of scaring away any intruders or murderers.

So much disrespect.

See, I know better. They may be the ones who fill the food and water bowl, but I am the one who keeps the dark things away. If I didn’t spring into action and scare the very air out of the room, who knows what would creep in! The squirrel mafia with bad intentions? A delivery driver carrying smiley packages of doom? The phantom scent of the black-and-white cat from three houses down?

My duty is clear: Bark First. Ask Questions Never.

I give one last, low, rumbling GRRR to solidify my victory, just in case the leaf/bunny/doom-squirrel/murderer was lingering.

Then, I settle back down on the comfy chair or carpet, not too far from where Ma and Dad are watching the Noise Box. Maybe I even get a quick comfort belly rub or head-scratch, affirming that I’m a good boi who guards so good.

Then, it’s time to rest and recharge again — even while staying alert. There’s always the possibility of a needed Alpha Howl-Bark-Alert at 2 a.m. You just never know.

A hero’s work is never done.

Until next time, or whenever the news beckons like a barking dog you can’t help but pay attention to, #JournoDog out.

As always, remember: Love your dog. Support local journalism. Believe in facts and trust credible sources. And try to smile and find a little happiness for your heart every day.

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