A Dog Story: Lunati Gets a Gopher

Warning:  The gopher dies at the end.

Sorry, does that ruin the story for you?

You might remember that I have claimed to have gopher hunting dogs in the past,

but up until the other day, I didn't have any proof.

I submit exhibit A above.

Let me set the scene.

I am doing the dishes and looking out the window when I notice Lunati is looking very intently at something on the ground in front of her.  She keeps poking at it with her nose and won't let Bailee within ten feet of her.  I think maybe she has a gopher, but more likely it is a tennis ball, or stick, or something equally awesome.

For once, I remember to grab my camera before I go out the door.  Good thing, because sure enough, it IS a gopher.  And to her credit, there wasn't a cat in sight.  I can only assume she has caught it on her own.  Good girl!

You see, last year, our yard was covered with gopher mounds everywhere.  Lately, I've noticed there are significantly fewer gopher mounds than last year.  Unfortunately, the gopher mounds have been replaced with giant craters dug by the above mentioned "Good Girl" in the hopes of catching a pesky critter or two.  I guess it's a matter of deciding which is the lesser of two evils.

Here she is in action.

The gopher was full of fight and vigor when I made it outside.  About three minutes later, he lay very still, mortally wounded.  You know how cats play with their prey before killing it?  Ok, well, they do.  They sort of bat it around and let the little critter think it can escape, then they bat it around again until, well, it is no more.  That is, unless you're my blond kitty.  She prefers to play with the gopher for 30 minutes without wounding it at all, and then lets it go free.  Yeah, she's great at catching them, but absolutely useless in controlling them.  But this story isn't about blond kitty (yes, that is her full name), this story is about Lunati.   

Lunati pretty much does the same thing as a cat, except instead of batting it around with her paws, she pokes it with her nose.  No biting, just nose punching, and quickly, because the little booger tried to bite her every time she got close.  At this point, if Ryan were home, he would have retrieved a shovel, popped the gopher on the head (to ensure its death), and put it in the trash.  That way we don't end up with half dead gophers in the house, which has happened before, but I'll spare you the details for today.  I couldn't bring myself to do that.  I couldn't even bring myself to watch the end of the killing.  Guess I'm not so country after all.  I took a few pictures and left Lunati to her kill, which she guarded carefully. 

Now, what should be the climax of my story is the part I didn't stick around for.  I know she killed the little guy, but I have no idea if she ate it, buried it, lost it, or hid it.  I meant to go back and check, but as with most things I try to remember lately, I forgot - surely I was distracted by something more important like a poopy diaper, a booger to wipe, or another load of laundry.

The moral of the story is:

If you have a gopher problem,

buy a cow dog,

then deprive it of cows for seven years and it will find a new job digging for gophers.

The End.