All things being equal, why take on your adversary when he's expecting it and can see you coming? Your chance of success rises greatly if you can hit decisively from behind.
And this theory was put into practice last night by Murphy as part of his ongoing war against his arch-enemy, the vacuum cleaner.
Expecting company, I was vacuuming. This is not something that I do every day, partly because I'm a guy and partly because when Murphy's around, there's always drama involved when the vacuum is in use (or even when it's sitting out quiet and idle...it's still fair game for a Shepherd attack as I've found out).
Murphy hates that machine and he'll follow me around the lair, eyes riveted on the hose, waiting for a chance to strike or at least give it a good barking at. Other dogs may run and hide from these things (Lagniappe always did) but this guy aims to kill the beast and never quits trying. So naturally, I vacuum with one eye on the floor and the other on Murphy as he skulks just out of suction rage waiting for the right moment.
Well this time he tried a new ploy. I took the vacuum upstairs, leaving it plugged in downstairs because it's on a long, long cord. I'd set the tank portion solidly on the landing at the top of the stairs and gone to work in the guest room when suddenly, there was a clatter and a crash on the staircase and the hose was yanked from my hand. The tank portion had gone tumbling down the stairs, apparently of it's own free will.
No, scratch that. It tumbled down the stairs because Murphy hit it from behind, grabbing it's power cord and yanking it down the stairs. Score: Vacuum 0, Murphy 1. And I had to put the top back on the upended tank and re-vacuum up all of the dirt and dog hair that spilled out. Thanks, Murph. Thanks alot.
You just come on back up here any time you feel bad enough, Vacuum...That was just a taste of what you'll get the next time.