"Shhh... Be wary, wary quiet... I'm hunting wabbits"
I'm brushing my teeth, getting ready to go into town and my son comes in and informs me that Shiraz caught a rabbit. "Is it dead?" I ask. "Yes!" "Are you sure Shiraz caught it?" "Yes! I saw him." Oh geez... This dog has chased hundreds of rabbits on our property and never actually caught one. He has, however, taken down a coyote along with two of his compatriots, so I know he has some hunting skills...
I look down to see that my son has allowed the dog to come into the house with blood all over him and the dog is now rubbing his bloody face on my pants! Ack! I hurriedly remove the offending dog outside and trudge through a wooded wetland area on our property (we have 5 acres fully fenced) to where the poor little rabbit bit the dust. His tail had been removed and was laying a couple of feet away and the rabbit had a big chunk missing with all his wonderful insides exposed. He was also missing a leg, which, I can only assume was eaten by my dear dog because I couldn't locate it anywhere.
Yuck. Yuck. Yuck! I hastily washed the dog outdoors and he didn't even shiver from the cold water - he was so hyped up on the "thrill of the kill!"
I swear, this is a very sweet, obedient dog and it was a real shock to see him actually do what his breed was bred to do so long ago.
Such excitement we had today! And no, we didn't have Hassenpheffer for lunch. =o
I've blurred the yucky portion of the rabbit. Sorry if this offends anyone!
UPDATE: We found the missing leg - one of my other dogs was discovered chewing it. I'm actually relieved he didn't eat it - I was worried about him trying to digest a bone and don't know if the rabbit could be sick. =P
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