'Tis the season of giving - new clothes, pretty jewelry, cards filled with stories of lives well lived, new fishing gear and flu viruses. It got off to an early start at our house with the late fall arrival of a moose leg. Just a leg. It arrived one day with a loud thump on the back patio and it sat there, challenging my Alaska woman mettle.
I started humming to myself, "on the first day of Christmas my hound dog gave to me... One diiismembered moose leg." I thought I was funny until the second day of canine giving came 'round.
The snowshoe hare population on the Kenai Peninsula exploded this winter. They are EVERYWHERE! Seeing a hare used to be a bit of a thrill, but these days, it's cringe-worthy.
You see, these hares are great sport for retriever dogs like Milton. They put on an exciting chase and scream when they're being taken down. Exciting stuff if you're a dog. Not so much if you're the dog owner who has to witness all this and then wearily call the vet for yet another round of dewormer.
And so it went, "On the second day of Christmas my hound dog gave to me... two trips too the vet."
Not one to stop at the mere killing of local hares, he started bringing them home. It started with a back foot. A gross frozen back foot. He didn't just drop this one on the back deck, he waited until I could see him, then he coughed it up from deep within. The guy spent the next three nights pitching his guts in the garage.
"On the third day of Christmas my hound dog gave to me.... three pitched guts"
A friend of Charlotte's really likes Milton in theory but no so much in person. I've been on a mission to help her get to know the guy and have some fun with him. On Friday, I brought her and her family up to play in the snow with him. What did he do? He fetched her a dead hare. That set me back months.
"On the fourth day of Christmas my hound dog gave to meeeee... foooour grossed out guests."
Let me see how we do with the remaining eight days. We're up to six hare carcasses. He's got the dry heaves and he's far rounder than he's been before. Given a few more days, I might be able to finish this song.
Labels: alaska dog, moose leg, snowshoe hare
And so it went, "On the second day of Christmas my hound dog gave to me... two trips too the vet."