The Elusive Postman

Each day there is a crucial moment that if not detected prior to its occurrence all hell will break loose.

That moment, of course, is when the mailman opens the front gate. What happens next is a chain reaction. First, Caper's ears perk up and his fur stands on end. He makes a growl/bark sound and then proceeds to sprint to the front door. He'll leap up on the chair that is next to door, alert and ready to pounce. All of that before the mailman walks the three steps to the stairs and then up the five stairs to the door.

Now if I'm lucky, Caper and I are in the family room and I have propped up a baby gate, thus preventing Caper from attacking the door and allowing him only to crouch down and hideously bark from afar. However, I do not spend all waking hours in that one room, so in the event that we are elsewhere in the house, my task is to try and intercept the dog on his chase to the front door. Once at the front door he barks ferociously, and if by horrible coincidence we do not have the usual mailman and the mail is actually put through the mail slot in the door, Caper will pounce on the mail and flail it around as though he was trying to kill a poor bunny. Now I try to outrun him or capture him mid-chase but it turns out this is dangerous as evidenced by a few moments ago when I leaped up from the computer and turned down the hallway to chase after him but then slipped on the hall runner and fell on my ass.

Of course it turns out if was a false alarm and the mailmen had not arrived.

The wait continues.