Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Our Great Hunting Dog!?

So, I am sitting at the computer the other day and Gavin comes in the house:

Gavin: Mom, what is that thing coming out of the ditch?
Me: I don't, know, it is a mouse or gopher? What does it look like?
Gavin: Come and look at it, I think it looks like a sea otter.
Okay, that got my curiosity up enough to actually go take a look at what he was talking about.

Gavin, Kyra and I went outside to investigate. Not sure what it is, or where it is at I am walking cautiously around the house. Kyra is in front of me on her hands and knees scoping things out (that's my girl). Gavin is 15 feet behind me, very reluctant to be outside... and that's my boy.

So, a few seconds later, Gavin screams (yes screams), "Mom, right there, trying to get up the front step." And there was this ugly rat/ferret looking thing. So, I get Ruby's attention and she sniffs around and doesn't see this thing that is a foot in front of her nose until I grab her collar and push her face right into it (which by the way was way to close for me to be for my comfort - I don't do rodents or whatever this thing was). Finally Ruby sees it and she pounces around and barks and runs up to it and then runs away - that's our hunting dog. Ruby is a German Shorthair - they are supposed to be wonderful hunting dogs...Ruby is the exception. So, I know that I am not getting close enough to this thing to get rid of it and I know I don't want it to run under my feet the next morning when I have my arms loaded down with bags and kids to take Gavin to school so I have to hatch a plan to get rid of this thing - my plan is my brother. Plan #1 fails - he just left to get parts, "I'll be back in 3 hours," he says. Plan #2 my Dad, he is hauling corn, "I can be there is about half an hour." Well, that's the best I've got so we wait and as we wait we begin to hear this piercing, high screech. I got back outside to see what the heck is going on and Ruby is feeling all proud because she has the thing cornered in the corner of our house (actually the thing ran there by itself while Ruby was out chasing a butterfly). So she barks at it and it screeches at her - it was the most awful sound I have ever heard - give me nails on a chalk board any day. So, Dad gets there - in 20 minutes - THANK YOU!!! He determines it's a mink. Great, now that we know what it is, get rid of it, I don't care what it is. So, he tried to get Ruby interested in it again - and again our hunting dog fails again. So, Dad took care of it - we will just leave it at that. He took it out to the field and buried it and the whole time he is doing that I am thinking, "Less than two minutes, I give that thing being buried less than two minutes." So, we thank Dad and Gavin talks "farmer" talk with Grandpa for a minute and he leaves. Ruby had that thing dug up and was prancing around as proud as can be less than two minutes after it was buried - sorry Dad. That's our hunting dog - wait until it's dead and buried and then get it. I love our dog.


Laurel said...

Maybe german shorthairs don't have a nose for sea otters? I can see where Gavin got that! Yuck... you really should write a book!

Kelly said...

That's crazy! My Dad just caught a mink in his live trap this weekend. Apparently they are around. He let it go though...My grandparents used to raise mink when my Mom was young.

Sharon said...

Hey, that mink would of made you a good winter wrap. Well, maybe you might have had to sew two together to get any warmth. My dad used to trap mink and sell the hides. Probably not worth a whole lot but a side business for Jed maybe.