My dogs are killers. They’re fine around people, even kids, but rodents and other small fidgety things be warned. I’d never allow Chelan around an infant because of how prey-like their movements are, and Petie doesn’t seem to like toddlers these days. He snaps when Sophia gets too close, even if all she did was trip and look like she was about to fall on him. The poor dog must be getting sore. He was never this way in the past. He knows better.

Petie is fourteen years old this month. I got him from a breeder when he was just five weeks old. I counted the weeks back from when I picked him up and figure his birthday was around the 6th. He has arthritis and has been on an anti-inflammatory, that I generally refer to as liquid gold, since he was about eight or nine years old. Last year the vet gave me a pill to help him on his ‘really bad’ days. I just gave him a dose of it for the first time a couple weeks ago. I may give a half dose next time. The pills are an opiate and once they kicked in he laid in the same spot, in the same position, for H-O-U-R-S. I would guess about seventeen hours. I hope it was a good trip.

Chelan turned eleven years old this month. She’s a pound puppy. I picked her up when she was about six months old and again, I counted back, and March is her approximate birth month. She was either born with hip dysplasia or just bowlegged. Either way, she has always walked like John Wayne, but doesn’t seem to be in any pain because of it. Chelan was diagnosed with cancer in May of this year. I was told that if we didn’t do surgery put her through chemotherapy she would die in about two months. We chose not to do it and instead give her pills to stimulate her appetite. It’s been ten months and she’s still doing well. Both dogs are doing extremely well given their breeds, ages, and medial conditions. They’re doing a little too well.

Four months after Chelan was diagnosed with cancer I watched her from our kitchen window as she leaped into the air about five feet to catch a squirrel in a mid-air leap from a cedar to the lower edge of the roof on the shed. I was thoroughly impressed. Not proud mind you, just impressed. That’s quite a feat even for a healthy dog. Out the back door I ran to retrieve the squirrel carcass which had now passed to the mouth of the other dog, Petie. I double bagged it and put it in the garbage. I sort of like that I was able to get it “fresh” because I really hate finding maggot ridden carcasses of their uneaten kills.

I told Kurt about our killer striking again, and the two of us continued to watch out the back windows as the squirrel’s partner told the dogs a thing or two. “Eee eee eee eee” It was like he was shaking his finger at them, and they just stood there waiting for him to get low enough. That damn squirrel wouldn’t let up and I was afraid I would soon have another carcass to collect. I’ve never known rodents to be quite so attached to each other. I went back to the garbage and laid the first squirrel in a part of the yard that the dogs couldn’t reach and hoped that it’s retarded partner would see it, do his mourning, and then get the hell out. We pictured a circle of squirrels with little black hats held over their hearts peering down at their fallen friend.

I had to leave for some appointment, but Kurt watched to see what would happen. The still live squirrel saw his buddy and carried it across the fence and up a cedar tree. Both dogs watched enthusiastically. The live squirrel then dropped his friend on the dogs like it was a bomb, only it landed in a dog mouth and never detonated. Kurt then had to retrieve the carcass from a dog mouth for the second time.

I took Chelan into the vet a couple of months after that for her check up and vaccines. I was informed that with her age and health that vaccines were not advised. My concern was of course having a rabid cancer patient, but good news, rabies is very low in the squirrel population of this area. The vet was equally impressed with Chelan’s feats but not overly surprised. Huskies are extremely prey driven and prolific killers. Funny that when you look up info on a breed that little tid-bit never comes up.

I was reminded of this again last night when I saw Petie poking around in the grass. I thought he was just eating some grass. I was wrong. He look up at me with something in his mouth. He had captured either a field mouse or a mole. I couldn’t tell from the little feet wiggling in his mouth. I ran out as if I was going to retrieve it from him without any gloves or even a plastic bag, but I was too late anyway. Petie put the critter’s little legs between his enormous snowshoe paws and pulled. MYGOD the innards of those things are stretchy. I’ve seen a lot of feathers in the yard lately, yes they kill birds too, with no carcasses associated with them. I hoped that it was merely from birds molting, but this made me think the dogs might actually be eating their kills now. The viscera of this current kill were now a single red rubber band that snapped up. I think I puked in my mouth a little bit.

I know you wanted to know which end that string would go. You wouldn’t be able to sleep properly without that detailed knowledge, admit it. Would you like a doggy kiss? I’m sure Petie would oblige. Just be glad I didn’t take pictures.

How is this for a Morbid Monday Hallie?

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