Nik
Well-Known Member
I was out watering the grass with the dogs when I heard loud sqeaking noises behind me. I turned to find Diesel shaking a rat in his mouth! Squeak squeak said the rat. Diesel dropped the rat and it then flew matrix style straight at Kahlua.
“Leave it! Come!” I shouted from across the yard fearing for my dogs.
They both freeze and heads swivel to me. Diesel gives me a “look” and huffs whines and yips at me and makes to grab the rat again. I repeat the commands with an added “NOW” and a clap. And thank goodness they come running to me. I take them upstairs, lock them inside, grab a broom (for protection?) and head back down.
The rat is lying where they left it but still breathing. Ugh! Ugh!
I frantically call my husband who has left just that morning for yet another trip to the old house. And incoherently explained with frantic “what do i do what do i do??? It’s STILL alive!!!”
“Go ask the neighbor”
So I sought out our neighbor who kindly volunteered to beat the rat to death with a shovel.
I accepted the offer and when that business was done I inspected my dogs for injury.
Not so much as a scratch on Kahlua and Diesel had a pinprick of blood next to his penis which I thoroughly cleaned and checked the next morning and cleaned again.
But while my pups were physically fine they were emotionally needy the rest of the evening. Diesel spent a couple of hours insisting on being in my lap and held (unusual for him). After he calmed enough to crawl off my lap he spent the rest of the night being hugged and comforted by Kahlua.
Today just a few days later Diesel’s tiny wound is completely gone and they are on good spirits. Good enough spirits to silently judge me when I have my impromptu private dance parties in the living room.
“Leave it! Come!” I shouted from across the yard fearing for my dogs.
They both freeze and heads swivel to me. Diesel gives me a “look” and huffs whines and yips at me and makes to grab the rat again. I repeat the commands with an added “NOW” and a clap. And thank goodness they come running to me. I take them upstairs, lock them inside, grab a broom (for protection?) and head back down.
The rat is lying where they left it but still breathing. Ugh! Ugh!
I frantically call my husband who has left just that morning for yet another trip to the old house. And incoherently explained with frantic “what do i do what do i do??? It’s STILL alive!!!”
“Go ask the neighbor”
So I sought out our neighbor who kindly volunteered to beat the rat to death with a shovel.
I accepted the offer and when that business was done I inspected my dogs for injury.
Not so much as a scratch on Kahlua and Diesel had a pinprick of blood next to his penis which I thoroughly cleaned and checked the next morning and cleaned again.
But while my pups were physically fine they were emotionally needy the rest of the evening. Diesel spent a couple of hours insisting on being in my lap and held (unusual for him). After he calmed enough to crawl off my lap he spent the rest of the night being hugged and comforted by Kahlua.
Today just a few days later Diesel’s tiny wound is completely gone and they are on good spirits. Good enough spirits to silently judge me when I have my impromptu private dance parties in the living room.
