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Killing in the Name of Love

Meet the grim reaper:

I kill you…

Right.  Not much to look at, I know.  At least in terms of threat.

But let me back up a little.

Two years ago we rescued a dog that looks frighteningly similar to a dingo. Within days, the dingo began behaving like she had always been part of the family.  Rescued from a concrete prison, days away from euthanasia, she followed us around and lavished love upon us.  She was obviously grateful for her new life, and new family, and she took on the role of self-appointed protector of the kingdom.

Now since it’s not much of a kingdom, per se, but more of a modest suburban house with a medium-sized back yard, her role was significantly reduced from warding off grizzly bears and rabid porcupines, to merely keeping feral cats or stray opossums from getting near the trashcans at the side of the house.

But since she loves us SOOOOOO MUCH, even that miniscule job was taken very, very seriously.

Because, see, even in suburbia, you just never know when some shit is gonna go down.

So when she wasn’t busy guarding this:

This is mine.

Or doing this:


Then she was doing this:


And as a result, you may remember this post, wherein there is a bird casualty.

So really, it should come as no surprise to anyone, least of all me, when I find myself having the following text exchange with hubs:



But no.  See, hubs is just as much a wussy as I am.



So now we had a very mangled and distraught wild rabbit, in a bucket, in our bathtub, and hubs had to go get Connor from school.


Fast, but apparently not as fast as a dingo. (and why must it be on the kitchen counter??)


And I was at work.

So first I called an after-hours vet clinic, but they told me they don’t treat rabbits and directed me to call wildlife rescue.  So then I called wildlife rescue, and they said an injured wild rabbit would probably not survive long because, apparently, they don’t manage stress well and basically give themselves fatal heart attacks.  But they said they could come get it, so I called hubs.

Hubs had picked up Connor, and put a movie on for him.  He said he went to check on Thumper, but in the 15 minutes he was gone, Thumper’s ticker had given out.

Rest in peace, friend. (photo owned and courtesy of Disney, who I give total credit and props to because I wouldn’t want to be sued by that behemoth.


And so while Connor watched a movie, unbeknownst to him, hubs was disposing of the body.

When I got home, the dingo greeted me at the door by dancing around like a cheap Bangkok hooker.

No offense to Bangkok hookers.  A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.


I kill for you! I love you looooooooong time!!!


Presently, the death scorecard looks something like this:

Rabbits:  2

Birds:  2

Snakes: 1

Rats:  1

Squirrels: 0


It’s hard not to feel bad that all this bloodshed happens because she loves us SOOOOOOO much.  And she wants to protect us.  You know, from rabbits.  And birds.  At least there was a snake in there, right?  It kind of evens it all out.

But still, sometimes it feels like we adopted Tony Soprano.

Also doesn’t like rabbits.



About Flannery

Kid, husband, dogs, my mother, full-time job, maximum stress, minimal relaxation...sooner or later I had to vent. AND we moved from California to Texas. I could start a whole other blog about that.

19 responses »

  1. Go squirrels! I’ll be rooting for that number to stay at zero….

  2. The Domestic Goddess

    This dog puts my pathetic creatures to shame. We have squirrels, rabbits, birds, voles, you name it. Heck, we had mice IN OUR HOUSE and my jerk dogs ignored them. WTF DOGS????

  3. At least you didn’t make it a fatal attraction story, you know? Connor wasn’t showing too much attention to these casualties before they were “removed” now was he??

  4. We had two cats once…one killed every bird he saw and had a droopy eye like a pirate before he was even grown up….wild cat at heart. The other is still with us..the easy rag doll kind of cat.
    Nature is hard to contain in the living room. So when the wild one was hit by a car I was sad but…kinda glad it was not the other one.

  5. Eek! Poor Thumper. I can’t believe he put it on the counter!!!!

    • I know, poor bunny. I’m comforted by the many, many other identical bunnies that show up in our front and back yards each day. Hopefully he won’t be missed by his bunny family.

  6. All I could think was, “MMMM, rabbit stew!” I am a very bad person.

  7. OHMYGAWDITHINKIJUSTCRAPPEDMYSELFLAUGHING!!! “When I got home, the dingo greeted me at the door by dancing around like a cheap Bangkok hooker.” And besides that?! I love this dog, but you know this.


  8. Can I borrow your rabbit, bird, snake eating dingo??? I have a rabbit explosion over here and I need to get rid of them before all my Hosta’s are on the buffet line.

  9. I love that you seemed more upset that it was on the kitchen counter than Dora had increased her killing spree!

    • After a while you just become immune to the carnage. It might be PTSD.

      Also, I’m just sure that microscopic organisms were crawling up and out of the bucket, and onto my counter.

  10. Squirrels are crafty buggers. I’m pretty sure that eventually, they will take over the world. Good thing for dogs like yours. Maybe, they will help stave off the impending squirrel invasion.


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