It was late evening, almost bedtime. The pups had been outside for about an hour after their regularly-scheduled early-evening nap. (Seriously. You can almost set your clock by their evening nap time!) While the others were outside, Chassie lounged half on/half off the “dog sofa,” her back toward me, completely consumed in doing…something.
“Chassie, what are you doing?” No response. Not even a head turn.
I naively thought she was probably engrossed in picking mud off her paws since the recent rain and sleet had left the back yard a muddy mess.
“Okay, girls, it’s bedtime! Let’s get cookies!” I called out to them. They scurried off to their respective crates. Except Chassie, who mysteriously, didn’t budge from whatever she was doing.
Chassie turned and began to trot toward me, a long skinny black something hanging out of her mouth.
“Chassie!! What in the world?!?” At which point – because this girl does not like for me to be upset, especially at her – Chassie spat it out: a headless mouse.
As a graphic picture of my sweet dog gnawing the head off of a mouse for the last 15 minutes assaulted my mind, a horrified scream tried to work its way up and out of my throat. I stifled it just in time. Because I sure didn’t want a repeat of the Baby Bunny Massacre of 2009, wherein I screamed bloody murder – the shock of realizing the “squeaky toy” your dog is playing with is actually a baby bunny will do that to you – and then more baby bunnies were, um, quickly consumed.
“Ooooooooooookaaaaaaaaaayyyy…Let’s get cookies! Go in your house!”
And off she went to her crate.
Just like that! The girl does love her cookies. She got a whole handful. So did everyone else. I’m sure they’re trying to figure out what they did to make that happen.
Next, of course, I had to dispose of the slobber-covered headless corpse. For a half-second (okay, maybe longer), I thought, “This is the grossest thing my dogs have ever done. I should take a picture! And post it on my blog!”
But I didn’t.