Because sometimes, one post a day just isn't enough to keep you up to date on all the excitement in my life.
So there I was this morning, squeezing the mulberry juicing bag with my hands to wring out the last drops of precious juice, when I heard frantic barking from the dogs. I have learned, over the years, the many barks of the dogs. This was not a "cyclist on the road" or a "squirrel up a tree" bark. This was the "MUST KILL" bark.
At least, Otty was in the gully barking the MUST KILL bark. The other two dogs were barking frenzied, frustrated barks because they were stuck in the garden. Otty is the only one who will jump the high fence separating the garden from the gully. So she was in the brush in the gully all by herself, growling and barking and generally making lots of scary hunting noises. And I could hear . . . something else. Growling. Not good. In fact, very bad. Because those noises were not coming from a chipmunk or a woodchuck. They were coming from a raccoon. And a full-grown raccoon can inflict some serious damage on a dog.
I couldn't get to Otty myself, because of the fencing. And there was no way she'd back away from her prey, even when I called her to come back. I was just about to run along the edge of the fence (in, I might add, my pajamas) to see if there was a way to open it and at least let the other dogs out so they could help her, when A. came out and saw the raccoon. It had gone up a tree. This was good, as it meant that at least it wasn't ripping Otty's face off. A. ran inside as fast as he could on his crippled foot to get his gun, but by the time he got back outside, the coon was gone.
I hope Otty was enough to scare it off, so it doesn't start hanging around and eying the chickens. But if it does come around again, I have no doubt the dogs will tree it again and A. will have a chance to shoot it. It wouldn't be the first time the dogs have saved the chickens from a raccoon. And I'm sure it won't be the last.
Good dogs.
8 comments:
Good lord, after that morning I would go back to bed!
I'm so glad Otty avoided a confrontation -- raccoons sure are mean little things. Although I found a baby raccoon stuck in the bottom of my neighbor's trash can once and AWWWWWW. I rescued him. He apparently didn't tell the rest of the raccoon community, because a few years later when we were camping, one of the jerks stole our entire bag of hot dog buns. And then sat about 15 feet away and ate them all, while staring at us.
Good doggies.
Is A now carrying his firearm a little closer? Glad his foot isn't
broken.
Has Cubby heard that sound yet?
Yep, we all figured you lounged
around in your pjs all day...now it is confirmed . :) Beth
It's refreshing that Otty's ability to be a bad dog and jump over everything sometimes becomes meritorious. Good bad dog!
Good dog!
Hi, you probably know me as the girl who sometimes leaves inane comments, because even though I have nothing of real value to say, I feel guilty reading blogs without commenting. Anyway, I was watching a movie yesterday and the main character killed a chicken and butchered it (it was set in the 19th century). I wondered how realistic it was, but I don't know anyone in real life who slaughters chickens. I wondered if maybe you had and if so, could share the experience with us.
Loved this post! No one can accuse you of living a dull life!!! And I agree, raccoons are useless little creatures. Good riddance.
Haley: Funny you should ask. Read this post: http://going-country.blogspot.com/2009/04/matter-of-life-and-death.html
Good puppies!
Those raccoons are scary beasts and have taken chunks out of each of our dogs at one point or another.
Scary, those things.
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