A couple of weeks ago, on a Thursday, I went to the nearby grocery store to purchase a few things so we could grill some burgers and hot dogs. We were having just a few friends and family over to the house and did not quite have enough food to feed everyone.
I took my teen-aged son with me. Actually he insisted. Apparently I do not buy the right junk food.
In the mean time, the greatest woman on God's green earth (GWGGE) went to the home improvement store to get some things to keep the mosquitoes at bay.
The boy and I were almost done with our shopping trip, finishing up in the beer aisle (no good outdoor gathering is complete without some nice cold beer) when I get a call from the GWGGE. Here is how the conversation went, as heard by the grocery store shoppers around me.
Me: What's up?
Me: I don't know?
Me: Get the natural stuff
Me: No, the other stuff
Me: No! the natural stuff!
Me: We have to protect the bees, Honey!
Me: No! DON"T KILL THE BEES!
Me: Okay
Me: Okay
Me: Bye, love you.
Needless to say, strange looks from the other shoppers combined with a slightly embarrassed teenager meant that we quickly made our way to the checkout line and out the store.
Fast forward a couple of days later...
Shadow, the dog, loves to bark at squirrels. He loves to chase squirrels. He loves to hunt squirrels. But I think he learned to hunt from those shows on the Discovery Channel where they tag the prey and release it, because, he looks very confused when he catches his prey. Up to this point, Shadow was 0 for 3,486 in his hunt for squirrels. He has cornered a bunny rabbit, a few toads, and a number of insects, though.
There I was in the back yard and Shadow is, much to my surprise, barking at squirrels. But something is different this time. The squirrel seems to be taunting him, staying low on the tree. Suddenly, Shadow jumps up and pins the squirrel by the tail against the trunk of the tree.
I bark the command, "Leave It!"
Shadow, in his confusion, and in one motion, drags the squirrel to the ground and turns to look at me.
He looks back at the squirrel on the ground. Looks at me. I say sternly, "Come here!"
Shadow looks back one more time, not quite sure what to think of his fallen prey, and trots over to me.
I put Shadow in the house, and go inside to report the events that just occurred to the current occupants of the house, GWGGE and her sister. The younger son was in the house, too, but since it was only 11:30 in the morning, he was still fast asleep.
Together sister-in-law and I go out to the fallen squirrel and ponder its condition. It is alive, but there is something wrong with the way its legs are moving. After much consideration of the previous events, we determine that Shadow did not mortally injure the squirrel, but that the squirrel was sickly before its encounter with the dog.
Sister-in-law returns to the safety of the house as I go to do what a man's got to do.
I put the squirrel out of its misery, and add its carcass to the growing collection of critters now buried in the Pet Cemetery out behind the workshop.
All events as traumatic as this require closure for those involved. We had to come to conclusions about the poor squirrel's death, Shadow's innocence, and the distastefulness of the deed I had to do. In the course of determining Shadow's innocence we decided the squirrel was already suffering from some sort of neurological malady prior to the events detailed above. I think the final conclusion we reached came from sister-in-law, who said, "I think it was the bug spray you sprayed a few days ago that made the squirrel sick."
Some related news on bees and pesticides:
25,000 Bees Found Dead In Oregon Parking Lot, Environmental Organization Says
Oregon Issues Temporary Pesticide Ban Following Bee Deaths
50,000 dead Oregon bees to be honored in memorial service
I took my teen-aged son with me. Actually he insisted. Apparently I do not buy the right junk food.
In the mean time, the greatest woman on God's green earth (GWGGE) went to the home improvement store to get some things to keep the mosquitoes at bay.The boy and I were almost done with our shopping trip, finishing up in the beer aisle (no good outdoor gathering is complete without some nice cold beer) when I get a call from the GWGGE. Here is how the conversation went, as heard by the grocery store shoppers around me.
Me: What's up?
Me: I don't know?
Me: Get the natural stuff
Me: No, the other stuff
Me: No! the natural stuff!
Me: We have to protect the bees, Honey!
Me: No! DON"T KILL THE BEES!
Me: Okay
Me: Okay
Me: Bye, love you.
Needless to say, strange looks from the other shoppers combined with a slightly embarrassed teenager meant that we quickly made our way to the checkout line and out the store.
Fast forward a couple of days later...
Shadow, the dog, loves to bark at squirrels. He loves to chase squirrels. He loves to hunt squirrels. But I think he learned to hunt from those shows on the Discovery Channel where they tag the prey and release it, because, he looks very confused when he catches his prey. Up to this point, Shadow was 0 for 3,486 in his hunt for squirrels. He has cornered a bunny rabbit, a few toads, and a number of insects, though.
There I was in the back yard and Shadow is, much to my surprise, barking at squirrels. But something is different this time. The squirrel seems to be taunting him, staying low on the tree. Suddenly, Shadow jumps up and pins the squirrel by the tail against the trunk of the tree.
I bark the command, "Leave It!"
Shadow, in his confusion, and in one motion, drags the squirrel to the ground and turns to look at me.
He looks back at the squirrel on the ground. Looks at me. I say sternly, "Come here!"
Shadow looks back one more time, not quite sure what to think of his fallen prey, and trots over to me.
I put Shadow in the house, and go inside to report the events that just occurred to the current occupants of the house, GWGGE and her sister. The younger son was in the house, too, but since it was only 11:30 in the morning, he was still fast asleep.
Together sister-in-law and I go out to the fallen squirrel and ponder its condition. It is alive, but there is something wrong with the way its legs are moving. After much consideration of the previous events, we determine that Shadow did not mortally injure the squirrel, but that the squirrel was sickly before its encounter with the dog.
Sister-in-law returns to the safety of the house as I go to do what a man's got to do.
I put the squirrel out of its misery, and add its carcass to the growing collection of critters now buried in the Pet Cemetery out behind the workshop.
All events as traumatic as this require closure for those involved. We had to come to conclusions about the poor squirrel's death, Shadow's innocence, and the distastefulness of the deed I had to do. In the course of determining Shadow's innocence we decided the squirrel was already suffering from some sort of neurological malady prior to the events detailed above. I think the final conclusion we reached came from sister-in-law, who said, "I think it was the bug spray you sprayed a few days ago that made the squirrel sick."
Some related news on bees and pesticides:
25,000 Bees Found Dead In Oregon Parking Lot, Environmental Organization Says
Oregon Issues Temporary Pesticide Ban Following Bee Deaths
50,000 dead Oregon bees to be honored in memorial service
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