Perhaps he read my previous post and was insulted by my lighthearted deprecation of his hunting skills. Perhaps he realized that we are presently a one-income household, and felt he needed to do his part to put food on the table. In any case, the Family Dog killed a rabbit yesterday. I was right there, on the other end of his leash, when he darted into the bushes and came out with a little bunny between his jaws. I wrestled him to the ground trying to free it but it was too late; the poor thing was already dead. The Family Dog was puzzled. Why was I trying to get it out of his mouth? This rabbit was his; if I wanted one, I could get my own. And why was I so horrified, instead of being proud of him?
It isn't his fault; he's a big powerful dog and a natural predator. The rabbit was his natural prey. Not to denigrate his accomplishment, the rabbits on this particular hillside seem more dimwitted than most, often standing in full sight contemplating the universe, unaware that any creature might wish anything other than good will to bunnies. It's just that, at seven o'clock in the morning, I don't care to be witness to the food chain in quite such a lurid fashion. Nature isn't always pretty.
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1 comment:
No it isn't. I have 3 such creatures, 1 dog and 2 cats who love to hunt the bunnies on the hill. The word is "survival" which has been inbred into these little creatures of ours for years and years.
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