| You would have been very proud of Furby today.
It was sunny and quite warm, so I headed out to the oat field across the street to let the dogs have a run. It is still a bit gummy with mud in spots, and uneven terrain, which makes walking with my wonky knee a bit difficult, but I generally try to get to the end of the field and back at least once a day. The center section of the field is oat stubble over new, green growth, and Sophie prefers to "hunt" in this area. Furby has never been too interested in having his nose to the ground, preferring to feel the wind in his hair and the miles fly by. "I can run very, very fast!" Today I noticed Furby bouncing over to the edge of the stubble. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. His nose pointed down about 3" in front of him, his back was straight, his tail motionless and his left forepaw was tucked up tight against his chest. I knew he was on the Point. Sophie was coursing the field nearby but didn't catch on to what her diminutive brother had found. As I neared, Furby was poking his nose into the stubble several times, then he would stand motionless for a few seconds "I am a Hunty dog, Mommy! Here it is! Shoot it! Shoot it!". I distracted him for a moment and watched carefully as a tiny 1-1/2" vole emerged from the stubble looking for a safer hideout. "It was a mousie, Mommy!" It was so sweet. "It was 3 feet tall Mommy! And mean!" Furby tried in vain to locate it again but I kept him distracted as it scurried unnoticed between Sophie's feet on it's way to safer ground. "You let it get away!" After that, I had a heck of a time convincing Furby to come out of the stubble and take a run. His life is forever changed.He has discovered the call of the wild. |
| Furkid Chronicles 12 |
| The Hunting Dog |
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