Our three dogs have a habit of running off down the hill and onto the neighboring property. It's at least 120 acres of cattle range land so they don't often have much to worry about. Other than Trixie.
Trixie is the kitty. She's sorta beige-ish colored. Has a long, thick tail. Green eyes. And she weighs at least 140 pounds or more. She's a mountain lion. A cougar. "Kitty!"
But Trixie doesn't seem all that interested in us. Nor the tasty morsels of dogs we have.
Anyway, the dogs went running off down the hill again yesterday. We usually have to take a good half hour getting them to come back. (We're working on fixing that; it's a problem.) First to come back yesterday was C.B.. With two dark spots on either side of her neck where she'd discovered the joys of Eau du Bovine. (a.k.a., Cow Shit.)
And then comes Crash. Very happy. With something in his mouth. Proud, in fact. He had a present for us. (Or, for himself, I'm not exactly sure which.)
It was the intact skeleton of the entire back leg of a deer. Complete with Appetizer Ants. And the hoof. And a smidgeon of deer hide and hair.
UGH!
So, we threw it on the grill and cooked it up to kill anything growing in or on it. And now we have free dog chewy treats.
Later that night, a large pack of coyotes were howling away down the hill. I suppose mourning the loss of their deer leg.
The joys of rural living with dogs!
("Steak, anybody??")
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