Livestock guardian dog: Great Pyrenees.
I really like this picture of me, taken by yarrowkat:
We picked up a livestock guardian dog this weekend. A Great Pyrenees that we've named Thistle.
A few weeks ago we lost most of our rabbits to a "south valley ditch dingo." (A feral or pack of feral dogs.) They tore down one of our fences, which was coyote proof but not "large dog" proof and killed four does and one kit. Our remaining doe and her six kits were in a separate cage, as were our two sires. Two of the kits survived, likely by hiding under a pallet.
It's hard for me to write about this. I feel like finding that dog and stomping it back into the earth, which I haven't felt since immediately after the event. I've been spending a lot of time asking myself what the nature of my relationship with these rabbits is. Without providing the context for the following statement, I have a responsibility for their safety. I failed that responsibility. I've heard everything you could possibly say to philosophize or console on this point, and I'd prefer not to hear it right now.
I mentioned to an acquaintance recently that "I love my rabbits." He retorted, "I love my children, but I don't eat them." I suppose the corollary to that is he doesn't love what he eats. I love this dog too, and like my rabbits she has a purpose that she's been bred for--a reason for existing that neither she nor I have any control over.
And now she has a home.
We picked up a livestock guardian dog this weekend. A Great Pyrenees that we've named Thistle.
A few weeks ago we lost most of our rabbits to a "south valley ditch dingo." (A feral or pack of feral dogs.) They tore down one of our fences, which was coyote proof but not "large dog" proof and killed four does and one kit. Our remaining doe and her six kits were in a separate cage, as were our two sires. Two of the kits survived, likely by hiding under a pallet.
It's hard for me to write about this. I feel like finding that dog and stomping it back into the earth, which I haven't felt since immediately after the event. I've been spending a lot of time asking myself what the nature of my relationship with these rabbits is. Without providing the context for the following statement, I have a responsibility for their safety. I failed that responsibility. I've heard everything you could possibly say to philosophize or console on this point, and I'd prefer not to hear it right now.
I mentioned to an acquaintance recently that "I love my rabbits." He retorted, "I love my children, but I don't eat them." I suppose the corollary to that is he doesn't love what he eats. I love this dog too, and like my rabbits she has a purpose that she's been bred for--a reason for existing that neither she nor I have any control over.
And now she has a home.