Ruffian, Squirrel Bane
Ruffian broke our hearts a week ago. A sweet Douglas squirrel made the mistake of coming too far down a tree while she was in the backyard. Ruffian caught him as he froze on the side of the tree, gave two quick shakes, and it was all over.
I was just a few feet away. I yelled No, hoping for the dog to pause and the squirrel to run. The squirrel, already facing up, began to run; the dog, despite her brief distraction, leapt up and picked him off the tree about five feet up.
Lesson learned: next time, no yells, just walk up and take the dog's collar.
Once she'd shaken the squirrel a couple of times, Ruffian listened to my "Drop it!" She must've known my tone was upset because she then went off about fifteen feet and sat, letting me check to see if the squirrel was indeed dead, and pick it up to lay it to rest. It was warm, but cooling fast, with no heartbeat-and almost no sign of violence. But gone nonetheless.
The squirrel, a day or two earlier. We feel some guilt because we threw seed for birds, squirrels, and raccoons, never imagining Ruffian could be quick enough to catch one. We are now more cautious.
The fern bank where I laid the squirrel. I did not bury him; there are many hungry beasties, and it seemed wrong to remove him from that circle altogether, simply because his part was cut short.
After I returned from taking the squirrel away, Ruffian came over to me quietly. Since she was just being a dog, I petted her reassuringly but not happily. She remained in a somber mood the rest of the day. We were concerned she might transfer squirrel interest to the cats, but such was not the case-she still treats them as pack mates. She is now completely over the experience.
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I was just a few feet away. I yelled No, hoping for the dog to pause and the squirrel to run. The squirrel, already facing up, began to run; the dog, despite her brief distraction, leapt up and picked him off the tree about five feet up.
Lesson learned: next time, no yells, just walk up and take the dog's collar.
Once she'd shaken the squirrel a couple of times, Ruffian listened to my "Drop it!" She must've known my tone was upset because she then went off about fifteen feet and sat, letting me check to see if the squirrel was indeed dead, and pick it up to lay it to rest. It was warm, but cooling fast, with no heartbeat-and almost no sign of violence. But gone nonetheless.
The squirrel, a day or two earlier. We feel some guilt because we threw seed for birds, squirrels, and raccoons, never imagining Ruffian could be quick enough to catch one. We are now more cautious.
The fern bank where I laid the squirrel. I did not bury him; there are many hungry beasties, and it seemed wrong to remove him from that circle altogether, simply because his part was cut short.
After I returned from taking the squirrel away, Ruffian came over to me quietly. Since she was just being a dog, I petted her reassuringly but not happily. She remained in a somber mood the rest of the day. We were concerned she might transfer squirrel interest to the cats, but such was not the case-she still treats them as pack mates. She is now completely over the experience.
alex's photostream