Chloë Goes Hunting
The week before Mike and Heather left on vacation was our annual block party. I sat out in front of our house in my pen where everybody could see me. Everybody told M&H how cute and well behaved I am, and then they also talked about (among other things) the increased frequency of rodent sightings in the neighborhood. Apparently the dry weather brings them out in search of water.
Ahem. Not on my watch!
Heather the Butcher shows the tools of the trade
Last Sunday afternoon Heather was taking me out for a walk, and as she opened the front door I saw the rat scooting across the walk by the bird bath. I pounced immediately–I knew something had been prowling around the bird bath of late, I could smell it. I stunned the evil invader and was moving in on it again when Heather scooped me up, handed me off to Mike and ran to get some tools to finish off the job I started.
I must admit, I felt pretty good about myself: My first kill. My badger-hound breeding (and don’t let me hear ANYONE refer to me as a “ratter!”) has already paid off, and I’ve barely made it to 6 months old. At this rate, I should bring down a buck in no time.
I hope my hunting acumen and success in taking down a rat doesn’t make any of my readers squeamish. But come on, people, this is life in the big city. Take a page from Heather’s book; she was the real hero here. Did she squeal? Did she panic? Did she scream at Mike to do something while she was stabbing the poor rat with a pitchfork and kitchen knife? No, she just did what she had to do. She was a Mighty Hunter.
Chloe in her peanut bed with toys.
Now she always has a trump card to play with Mike. And she knows how to use it.
That’s it for today. My toys are demanding my attention.
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