First Mob Hit of '09

You know, I just wanted to come home, nurse my aching stomach, do some laundry and bake brownies for a meeting for tomorrow.  But nooooo, it can never be that simple.

I got home (yay, it's still light outside!) and let all the beasties out in the yard.  The buttercups are in bloom and I thought I should go in, grab some scissors and cut them to put in the kitchen.  Tuesday had jumped the edging around the raised bed and was snuffling around in the dried weeds and fresh flowers, sniffing for rabbits.  

What I didn't know was that she actually found some.

My dogs work like a well oiled machine.  Tuesday flushed the baby bunny out of the weed-clogged raised bed, Jack came in for the kill and then Map took care of disposing of the body.

Nice.

I was more concerned about a dog fight (and resulting vet bills) over the nummy bunny than anything else, but I managed to wrangle Tuesday, Jack and Millie into the house.  Map, not so much.  She had the bunny and was not about to give it up.  I got my gopher grabber stick (AS SEEN ON TV) and a gallon sized Ziploc bag and went out to collect the corpse.  

Thing is, I can never catch that stinkin' fluff.  She hops on the deck, runs underneath it, zips behind the air conditioning unit, always out of reach. Damnit!  She just darted around the yard with the saggy, bleeding body in her mouth, not about to be caught.

I came inside to get a spray bottle, thinking I could corner her, squirt her in the face and then grab the bunny with the gopher while she was recoiling from the water.  However, by the time I got outside, she had swallowed that bunny whole.

Now she sits happily under the kitchen table, grooming herself, licking the blood of the innocent off her paws.  She is quite proud of her efforts.  Quite proud.  I, on the other hand, am waiting for the inevitable mess that will come my way when she barfs this thing up about 2 in the morning.

Looks like Millie gets to spend the night out free, as Map will be spending the night in Millie's x-pen, on a carpet of piddle pads.  

Thank God tomorrow is garbage day.