The word for Sunday Scribblings this week is wicked. My favorite use of this word is the slang term in the British Isles for "excellent" or "great." My dogs are wicked watchers.I can’t say Shelby and Annie are guard dogs, but they do love to watch. Sometimes we can’t even tell what they are watching. A perfect example of the wicked watchers happened yesterday. They sat at the gate and after about a minute of intense watching, we figured out two of our cats were below in the bushes. They wanted the cats to come and play.
Last night Shelby was watching a tree. She stared so intently at the tree we figured a stray cat was up there. No, she was just watching a pretty little bird. That is all she did was watch and observe. It was wicked. 
Their favorite watching place is on our bed. The window above our bed has the best view of the gate. If JEJ is gone they will watch out the window for hours. They take the job seriously. They will rest their chins on the window sill and just stare. If he is arriving in a vehicle they usually hear that long before they observe him coming down the driveway. This is when I hear the wicked bark. It is an excellent bark that announced that someone is home. I have been told they do the same routine when I am gone.When we travel they once again are wicked watchers. Shelby, being the herding dog she is, always notices animals. Of course it helps that JEJ says, “Shelby, look see. Cows, horses, sheep (fill in animal)”. Annie watches for the destination. She understands when we are close to a place that they will get out for a run. She is definitely a wicked watcher when we arrive at my mom’s house. How do they always know where we are? We may give it away when JEJ says, “ Look! Are we at Mary’s house?” I know voice inflection helps with the wicked watching.
There greatest feat as wicked watchers was keeping four eyes on their dog food. The food used to be in the patio. For awhile every morning they would run out and sniff around and we would discover food was missing. We figured it was a raccoon.
One evening the dogs got excited and wanted out. We figured this was our time to check on the raccoon. We should have figured a bit more before we let them out. The food stealer this time was a skunk. The wicked watchdogs were stopped in their tracks. The wicked skunk did what skunks love to do. 
He left a wicked stench that stayed on the dogs' fur when came into the house.I believe at that moment is when I, Inland Empire Girl used my wicked tongue. Then I mixed up a wicked brew of skunk odor remover.
If you want to see other wicked reponses go to Sunday Scribblings here.