Then there is Harley Longdog. Harley is just... Harley. He's a certain kind of happy-go-lucky, goofy, mildly slow minded individual that you just can't help but love to be around. He just takes the world as it comes, trodding along to the beat of his own one-of-a-kind drummer. Since no one else really hears or understands Harley's drummer (often we say, "Well, you can't blame him, he's got a dent in his head") he pretty much does his own thing and plays by himself, though he has tons of friends (dog and human) and is a key member of a 4-dog pack, he's still kind of a loner, doing his own thing in life.
So when we brought Possum home a very quick friendship developed. Possum doesn't care if Harley's drummer has gone mad, because Harley thinks Possum is a great part of his crew, Possum can belong to Harley. This gives Possum a place to belong and a friend, two things he wants more then anything in the world. And it gives Harley a close friend and tunnel digging minion.
One of Harley's early tunnels, it's about 6-7 ft. long and deep enough to sink past your ankle and completely break it if you try to sneak into my yard at night. He spent months on this tunnel, working tirelessly and coming inside for naps, then demanding to go back out and get to work. Yes, the other dogs do think he's insane.
This is one of their early large tunnels together, it circles both trees and is full of smuggled socks and destroyed toys, the first one Harley started storing things in.
Their largest tunnel to date is growing to span the width of my entire yard, roughly 150 ft. in a more-or-less straight line. It's a work in progress they keep returning to. I think they get bored with it's excessive length.
When I go out in the yard Harley immediately drags me over to check out his latest tunneling leg. He prances along, tail and head high, a foreman showing off his latest magnificent project. As you walk the length of it he will occasionally nose an area to indicate buried treasure (generally a gutted toy, a sock, or a highly prized pair of stolen underwear). Most of his tunnels are large enough he can get down in them and walk along, but the one above was a more hastily dug project, only about 4-6" deep.
Possum prances behind him, delighted with his friend, and their shared project. I don't think he knows why Harley does it either, but he doesn't care. He's having a blast.
As the tour goes along Harley will usually bark and Possum to go "de-sod the 7th quadrant" or some such silly thing and Possum will excitedly prance off to do exactly that like it's the best thing in the whole world, taking grand joy in every moment.
I asked him once if there are really quadrants, if this is actually a planned project with a goal in mind. He just laughed and said he's not sure, he just goes and starts digging in a random place and that turns out to BE the 7th quadrant. "He's a genius isn't he? Don't you just love him?" Possum will say, obviously already convinced himself of the answer, while watching Harley bury a pair of underwear it took him 3 weeks to smuggle into the yard.
"He is definitely something. Not sure genius is the word."
"You just don't see it yet. Wait till we're done. Genius is definitely the word."