Oh deer!

Yes, I'm way behind. This working-for-a-living thing really has its drawbacks. On the bright side, Hathaway has a brand spanking new, personalized (!) mat under his dinner dishes that is keeping the kitchen floor much cleaner ... that is on the days he doesn't rummage through the trash.

Those days are fewer and farther between. Our encounters with wildlife this fall, however, are definitely more frequent. No, we haven't had any more coyote adventures thank goodness. But there are the squirrels and turkeys and deer, oh my!

Our deer encounter was by far the coolest. Bambi wanted to play.

In late September, Hath and I took some early morning walks, usually strolling through the cemetery across the street just after the sun came up, enjoying the last bits of summer before the autumn chill set in.

I usually have him off the leash over there, since we are away from the cars and he's really not too spontaneous. He never bolts after anything, and he comes when he's called. So we are walking along. He's sniffing and peeing. As we came around a bend, I see two fawns about 30 yards away. I'm so surprised, I stop in my tracks, hoping to have a moment to look at them before they run off.

The deer, however, aren't paying much attention to me. They are watching the fawn-colored pit bull walking along the edge of the path. Hathaway, oblivious, is sniffing and peeing. As he got closer, they got curiouser, still standing quite still, but raising their ears and twitching their tails. Their noses were sniffing like mad and the bolder one took a step forward.

Though he was now only about 10 yards away, Hathaway still hadn't noticed his company. I hadn't moved much, wanting to see what they would do.

When the deer finally started to move, Hathaway looked up and stopped. His tail went up and he sniffed. He looked at me, and looked back at them, then tentatively took a couple of steps forward, then a couple more. I was getting a little closer to take pictures with my phone, but Hathaway got to within about 5 feet.

The bolder deer, to my amazement, not to mention awe, stretched his front legs forward, neck bent, butt raised, in the classic play position. "Bring it on, pit bull," he was saying. "We want to run!"

Hathaway doesn't even chase squirrels, so he certainly didn't know what to make of these two creatures who were more than twice his size. He watched them and sniffed then, and then he did it -- he chased them.

Sort of. He trotted forward, at not even half speed. The deer took off, running about 10 yards, then circling back to wait when they saw he wasn't following. They did it again and again -- Hath sort of chasing, the deer running away, then coming back to wait for him.

The three of them played for nearly 15 minutes, working their way through the cemetery until I finally put him back on his leash. They were getting closer to the busy street at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't want any of them taking this game into traffic. We did another lap around the cemetery and one of the deer followed us a for a short distance before running off.

People who have pets know that animals are very effective communicators. They let us know many times a day what they want, what they need and what they do and do NOT like. They may not use words, but their body language says it all.

They do it between species as well. The deer told Hath that they wanted to play, and he obliged them with a little game of chase. It was the most incredible moment (to date) in a series of special moments with this dog.

There's a pit bull in my ... fridge?

OK, so the fridge may be the only place he hasn't gotten in to.

He took apples from the bushel bag shortly after they were picked. Plucked three right out of the bag and left a couple of bits of skin and three spots damp with apple juice and drool on the carpet as evidence. When I moved the bag, he pulled it off the counter, survived the cascade of fruit raining down upon his big head and ate three more apples. Moved them to the top of the fridge where they were safe.

He took Cheetos from Josh's lunch box. And of course there was the day he tried to make coffee; pulled the grounds from the trash and dumped water from his dish over them.

He's a very smart dog and I wake up each day with a list of ways to try to out-think him. Today, as the trail of empty candy wrappers is my witness, I did not succeed. We came home today to find an empty Trick-or-Treat bag. Can't blame Hathaway on that one. It's my fault and the boy's that it was overlooked and left out (they have heretofore been safely shut up in a closet which requires opposable thumbs to open). I have a feeling Hathaway's treats are going to be a gory trick several hours from now.

Some things Hathaway has eaten: Mushrooms, bananas, strawberries (and chewed up their Tupperware container for good measure), tomatoes, clementines -- peel and all, sunflower seeds, an entire loaf of Wonder Kids bread, popcorn, egg shells.

Some things Hathaway has not eaten: Lettuce.

Meet the pit bull in my bed

This is Hathaway. We found him at the animal shelter in Brockton, Mass., quite by accident, but sometimes that's the best way of finding something.

When we went to look at the dogs, I had no intention of bringing one home, especially not a 2-year-old male pit bull with the head the size of a battering ram. But he looked at me with his big brown eyes. And the kids looked at me with their big violet and hazel eyes, respectively. And then they used logic.

"Can we just take him for a walk?"

They didn't say "sucka," but they might as well have been thinking it. We walked Hathaway and played with Hathaway and wrestled with Hathaway and petted Hathaway. His kisses weren't slobbery. He didn't look like he shed much. He didn't bark. He was housebroken. He listened to commands. And he was really cool looking.

But that day, we left him there. Still had to think about a 2-year-old pit bull "mix." And not just that -- he had a skin issue and was already returned once because of separation anxiety. He had broken two crates and a door. Apparently his head was shaped like a battering ram for a reason.

I went back twice to visit and play with him and talk to the staff at the shelter -- formerly the MSPCA and now the Animal Protection Center of Southeastern Mass. I said I had to be sure with two young kids in the house. The caregivers said fostering was an option.

We brought him home on Aug. 29, adopted him outright on Sept. 10, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Life with Hathaway is a daily adventure, to be chronicled here daily, with any luck. The goal is to entertain doggy style and maybe to show pit bulls in a different light.