Hunter

Intrepid

I have always somewhat disrespected Daisy....not that I wasn't fond of her or anything....but..... 

We got her because of the cute factor...and because she had eaten some turkeys that were off limits and was facing eviction from her premises....

For the two years that she has lived here I have tended her faithfully. Tending faithfully is in a farmer's heart.... I found dog food she can eat and a way she can eat it.

Never saw such a dog for digestive difficulties. For two years, twice a day, a third of can of minced chicken Pedigree mixed with ample water has been served...it usually works...she is generally okay. Her housebreaking is pretty shaky. No biggie...she is small and so are her "accidents". She is however, confined to the kitchen.

After half a lifetime with herding dogs....they live to serve and protect and be partners...her independence was a barrier to us being buddies of the heart. I didn't blame her a bit. She had no reason to trust a stranger...me....and hounds tend to go their own way anyhow.

Not that I haven't always liked her, quite a lot in fact...I'm a doggy person, and she is certainly a dog, albeit in a pretty small package...but she was never quite a border collie. With a border collie there is an intense sensation of minds that are tied together...an invisible bond of cooperation and love and the will to work..I haven't found it with any other dogs, but if you have BCs you know what I mean. You can feel their brains there, reaching out to link with yours...a bond like no other. I still want another one....

Then one day she convinced us to let her get the mouse in the dining room. Ten minutes and it was dispatched and delivered.

Second mouse. Ditto.

The plague of chipmunks and bunnies on the porches and the garden was next. She made them her life's work right after I pointed them out to her.

 I don't think she has caught any yet, but not for lack of effort.

I am proud of her. She weighs about ten pounds and isn't much more than a hand and a half high at the withers.

She is eight, and has many health problems related to a hard life and being a double dapple dachshund with all that implies. She can barely see out of her too-small blue eyes.

That does not stop her from being a hunter.

This morning she was out, slowly making her way up the big back lawn to where the deer are eating Liz's garden. I think she is kind of tired after an insane cracker dog session last night when I was making much of her, and it is hot...but she is still game.

This is not a place where dogs can run unsupervised. Besides the Thruway, the state highway, the coyotes, owls, and foxes, there are leash laws. However, I suspect that if I did just let her run, the chipmunks and bunnies would be forced to take their business elsewhere.

I never expected to have a hunting dog, but I do. Good girl, Daisy.