Bird of Prey vs. Cocktail Weenie

My sister called me the other day and told me that there are four bald eagles nesting in the trees by the pond behind her house. When she takes Bruiser, the mini doxie, out to go potty they circle in the sky above them. Recently, one of them did a low swoop over their heads. Bruiser is now terrified to be outside. The eagles must be royally pissed of that my sister is brazenly parading this...this...appetizer before them and not allowing them to taste it. She says that if they manage to somehow carry him off, she will either be in the looney bin for having witnessed such horror, or in federal prison for shooting a symbol of the US of A.

Hopefully it will be neither. Bruiser has never been allowed outside by himself because he is so small, and in addition to birds of prey there are coyotes, bears, and stupid clumsey cows to worry about as well. Now Sissy is having to carry Bruiser out underneath the big pine tree in the front yard to do his business so that he doesn't get spirited away for baby eagle breakfast. I told her she should train him to use a litter box! That poor dog is already uber-neurotic; this is all his nerves need now. Poor little cocktail weenie.