We had just started our morning walk when the unfamiliar truck appeared on the road ahead of us. Max and Charly stepped to the side with me, but Frankie wasn't nearly that accomodating. He charged right down the middle of the road, straight for the truck, ignoring my calls, lifting his wings up to the side in his "I'm big and bad, don't mess with me" pose.
I motioned to the driver to just keep going slowly. One of the men rolled down his window and tried to shoo Frankie away, but that just ticked him off even more and he started his "squonking" - an obnoxiously loud noise somewhere between a goose's honk and a chicken's squawk.
"Come on, Frankie! Let's walk!" He totally ignored me. He was focused on the enemy.
It turned out the intruders were just workers coming to thin out the junipers on our neighbor's property. They pulled off the road and Frankie followed them. I continued walking with Max and Charly, calling to Frankie every once in awhile, but he probably couldn't even hear me over his squonks. I could hear him all the way to the curve, fussing and fussing. On our way back, he met us halfway. He was still squonking, but I think it was directed more at me by then, chastising me for leaving him behind, I guess. Or maybe he was berating the dogs for being such...chickens (I couldn't resist!)
He ignored the men on our return walk, but Charly made a bee line for them through the woods, wagging his tail, scavenging for handouts. What a pushover!
Good thing I have my Guardian Guinea to strike fear into strangers, because it's obvious my dogs aren't quite clear on the whole stranger/friend thing.