|"I EAT antlers. I do not WEAR antlers!"|
Friday I was working at my desk. Our house is L-shaped with sliding glass doors along the back. My office is in the inside corner of the L, so I have a view of the other half of the house. We had several doors open for Rita to come and go since it was a lovely day. As I worked, movement on the deck caught my eye - a squirrel was haltingly approaching the farthest open sliding door.
I about had a heart attack. I did NOT want that squirrel in my house! I ran over and shut the doors, and alerted Rita who had been snoozing on the sofa.
I pointed out the interloper to The Defender of the Realm. Her barking encouraged him to move to the end of the deck. Then I opened the farthest door and let her out, figuring she'd chase him the short distance to the fence and he'd escape into the canyon. I followed her along outside.
|"Hand over some nuts and I'll be on my way."|
Rita was freaked out. I was freaked out. Mr. Squirrel was most definitely freaked out!
|"Let me at 'im, Momma!"|
Mission accomplished, we headed back in. Only... he hadn't left like I thought, or he left and returned. Shortly thereafter I let Rita out again. And then I heard a squirrel scream.
Ran out in time to see her down in the canyon at the fence, shaking Mr. S and flinging him. (Our yard is fenced about 1/2 way down the canyon and it's super steep and overgrown. We've never even been down into that part of the yard). I couldn't see him since it was so overgrown, but I managed to get Rita to climb back up out of there.
She was completely hopped up on adrenaline, racing around the house like a nut, panting, slurping water. It was really bizarre. She's such a fraidy-dog, so I'm sure it took all her bravery to go after the poor little thing.
|The self-satisfied huntress|
I knew instantly what it was... it was precisely the sound that a dead squirrel would make if flung against a glass door. Precisely.
I ran out to the living room, and sure enough... there was the huntress, playing with her kill. I shrieked again. "Leave it!" Luckily she did. She came over to me and I ran and threw a rag over poor deceased Mr. S. (He was not bloody at all - we have long suspected she's got some terrier in her, because of the way she violently shakes her toys. She obviously snapped his little neck - or maybe she gave him a heart attack.)
I used the garage broom to push him the foot or two necessary to get him out the door, and left him discreetly under his rag until The Daddy came home and disposed of him. (Luckily he was on his way home while all this chaos was happening.)
|The deceased awaits The Daddy's arrival.|
This is not Rita's first time killing something. There was the bird, and the mouse. But at least she didn't eat any of them!
Cat owners are probably a lot more used to this, but what about you dog owners? Do you live with a beast?
Thanks to Snoopy’s Dog Blog, Alfie’s Blog, and My Brown Newfies for hosting Monday Mischief!