Monday, 25 February 2013

Rabbit Hunting - Close, But No Cigar

Oops, so it's been a little while since I last posted! Apologies, you'll just have to believe me when I say it's because life gets in the way a little bit!

But! This blog is about Troll Springer Spaniels, not me, so let's not dwell on whether or not it's the increasing abundance of late-shifts at work which are eating up all my time or not - on with the blog!
Pictured: Impatience.

Anyhoo, so the last post was all about Mollie and her love of rabbit hunting, and how the fact that she is mostly terrible at it does nothing to dissaude her from doing it, much to my dad's chagrain. It's the hunter in her, unfortunately, and while it's still good that she hears and answers the call of the wild, doing it by rolling in fox poo and hunting half-dead rabbits isn't the way we want her to connect with her inner-wolf.

Bingo, however, is more of a bear. A Canadian one at that. COMPARE!
 I can think of many times Mollie has driven my dad to exasperation with her hunting antics; she will usually act in the way described in the last post: carry her trophy proudly home and stay out of arm's reach from my dad. Usually works a dream.

That is until my dad attempts to outsmart her.

I remember being home one day, when I had no lectures or anything to do, when my dad asked if I wanted to walk the dogs with him. I declined, maybe because I actually had things to do, or maybe because I just wanted to put my feet up, we'll never know. I usually like accompanying him so maybe I WAS actually in the middle of something.Whatever.

So, it was about 45 minutes later, and my phone starts ringing. I get the usual 'OHMYGOD, WHO'S BOTHERING ME' heart-attack-style feeling, but lo and behold, it's my dad calling me. I pick up, because it really could be anything.

"Yeah, Mollie's talking about blowing up the skeleton sword again. You'd better come help."
"Hey, could you come out to the alley near the park?" He asks.
"Yeah, sure. Everything okay?"
"Could you come from the other side though? Mollie caught another bloody manky looking rabbit and I have to get it off her. She keeps running back when I try to grab it."
"Yeah sure, dad. I'll be right there."
So I put my shoes on and head around the other way to the alley that leads to the park. It takes an extra minute but when I arrive the scene is laid out before me. My dad and Bingo are at the other end, and Mollie is quite near me, with decomposing rabbit in mouth. As soon as she sees me, she is immediately conflicted in her feelings. Her tail wags madly, ecstatic to see a family member OUTDOORS! But she won't go as far as coming up to greet me - she isn't that stupid.
"It's a nasty one," He calls to me. "It was already dead,"
An already dead rabbit is like free beer at the student bar to Mollie. It's all the rewards for none of the effort, and she's very much into reaping the spoils with minimal work.
"Alright," I say, "Let's just come at her from both sides and just step on it and pull her away,"
So we approach her. I realise this could get messy. Mollie realises her prize is at stake, so grips her teeth tighter around the carcass. We get near enough, I grab her collar and my dad steps on the mangled rabbit.

Just imagine a rabbit in her maw, and the picture is accurate.
 A struggle ensues, but we eventually tear it away from her. It is disgusting, and I'm sorry for the next image, but the rabbit sort of... comes apart. There in the alley. Over my dad's shoe.
We get an unhappy, defeated Mollie back on the leash, my dad shakes off his shoe and we turn to go back home.
"Don't worry," He says, as I stare back at the mess. "The foxes will have that."

But even the foxes didn't want it. It took almost a WEEK for something to be starving enough to carry it off.

My dog is disgusting.

But I love her.

Not pictured: disgusting, rotting rabbit corpse hanging from her chops.
Til next time! :)

1 comment:

  1. BOL MOllie! My mummy would freak out if I did something like that!