In 2003 we drove to Drumheller, Canada. Along the way we stopped for samiches in Coeur d'Alene and let the dogs run in a small park. After a few gallops through tall grass, Mr. Beans promptly munched the head off a wee bird that couldn't escape his reach. We were sickened by his display and agreed that Beanie must never show his face in Idaho again, lest he be incarcerated for his crimes.Last week I was sitting in the garage taking pics* when I noticed Miss G wrangled a bird. I yelled for my husband (who was closer) to stop her!
Stop her!!He did, and then went to examine the damage, and hopefully release the wee creature back into flight.
But...it was not to be.
The little fellow had fallen to a dachshund scourge like his brethren up north. Who knew these little dogs had such a taste for blood. Badgers, sure. But wee birds? Aye.
* One time I was at the pool with the girls and the clasp on my poor sister's swimsuit top broke... Our dear friends quickly reached for the towels...while I...reached for...my camera.WHAT! Journalism is in my blood!
1 comments:
Your blog never fails to feature some unexpected images and stories. Topless sisters! Headless birds! Hunting reconnaissance, just a few posts after Shakespeare viewing! You are a renaissance woman, Amy!
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