First Blood

 

It was going to happen some day; Robin actually caught- and killed!- an animal. Robin chases everything: squirrels, birds, leaves, shadows... seemingly she is a born hunter. (*1) But despite many heroic attempts at catching anything, it has taken Robin almost six years to achieve the status of Official Hunter.

She had been pursuing the above rodent (a shrew.. similar to mice and moles and voles) for several days. It apparently lived in the patch of lirope beneath the Tiger Eye Sumac. Certainly, it attracted her attention whenever she was in the vicinity. 

She finally nailed it one day last week and proceeded to "play" with it and one last toss in the air dispatched it to the Great Shew Beyond. (*2) However, once it was dead, a look of anguish seemed to cross her face. She sat and stared at it and all I can say is she seemed to experience some sort of existential remorse. Bob noticed this, too. (*3) Robin was no doubt analyzing the impermanence of life and considering what happens "afterwards". It affected her profoundly!

This is how Robin typically hunts. She up ends her toy box- which need frequent replacement as she chews the box apart as sport- and selects one toy to terrorize. (By the way, she totally ignores that pink camouflage alien in the front of the picture. Not sure why) She then shakes it and tosses it and eviscerates it.

Look at that face! You would never know that I had just spent twenty minutes performing surgery on this poor thing. Robin promptly pulled it's nose off, stuffing every where! I don't think she experiences and remorse about "killing" stuffed animals. I'm sure she knows the difference.

Although who knows? Maybe now that our little angel has tasted blood, and contemplated the loss of life, she'll reconsider her approach to hunting artificial game. She does look a bit contrite in the picture above...

(*1) And you would expect this as both her parents were field hunting dogs. You will perhaps recall that her mother, Chloe, was a Long Haired Weimaraner and her father, Gunnar, was a Llewellyn English Setter. 

(*2) I'm really glad she killed it as our previous dog Ricky used catch things but never figured out how to kill them. I followed her around with a shovel, finishing off what she had started. It was not the most fun I've ever had!

(*3) Yes, I know: many will find it anthropomorphizing and "inappropriate" to assign "human" emotions to dogs, but believe me, Robin the Good seemed bummed and confused.