The Remains of the Deer

Loving on Sparky

One of the joys of country life is the occasional encounter with wildlife. Much less joyful is the occasional encounter with a dead deer. Driving home the other day I noticed a group of buzzards working on a deer carcass along the road in front of the property adjacent to ours. Great, I thought, that's a dog magnet for sure. And sure enough, when Maya climbed the dog yard fence that evening, I spotted her next door checking out the dead deer. The next night she and Vince were both on it and both came home stinking of dead deer. Of course, they thought it was the best thing to happen on our road all year. I was just hoping that the buzzards would make quick work of it. They may be about the ugliest birds on earth, but I'd be hard pressed to name one that performs a more valuable service.

This is just the part(s) I found.

That evening, Charlie slipped away from me when I was bringing him back inside. He was gone for a while but I was pretty sure where he was. When Vince was out this morning he showed up chomping a big chunk of what was obviously dead deer. Vince had two episodes of pooping soft stool in the house between last night and today, and I'm expecting the same from Maya.

I was mowing part of the front yard this evening and I discovered part of the deer carcass that someone had apparently decided to bring home, probably concerned that other dogs in the neighborhood might steal the choice parts. I saw Vince rolling on it. I bagged it up and may need to make a trip to the dump in the next day or so. Country living with dogs-- it's not all pretty pastoral scenes of dogs romping through tall grass.

Max and the mower

Max, a/k/a Mad Max, is still much the same. He's good when he's on a leash and with me; he's a maniac when left to his own devices. Yesterday, I put him out in the pasture for some exercise while I was mowing the yard. He doesn't run and explore like a normal dog, he spins in circles, chasing his tail, and screams like he's possessed. I pulled him out of the pasture, put a leash on him, and tied it to the mower, not sure what he'd do. I thought the proximity to the mower noise might drive his anxiety sky high, but instead he just trotted along calmly, following the mower's lead. He walked better with the mower than he does with me on our hikes.

The video shows Max's behavior when he's on his own.  It is painful to watch.

I don't recommend this. He's on the opposite side from the discharge and the blades and forward motion stop immediately if I release the handgrips, but still, I don't think it's the best idea in terms of safety. But my options for dealing with this dog are pretty limited and this worked pretty well. I saw him later in the evening stretched out in the dog yard looking like a dead horse, obviously de-stressed and relaxed like I've never seen him. I was surprised because it wasn't strenuous walking, the grass is so tall I had to walk very slowly for the mower to be able to cut it-- much slower than our hiking pace and he wasn't pulling the mower the way he pulls me when we hike.  Maybe he bonded with the mower, I don't know. I just don't know what to do about that dog.

Gambit is settling in nicely. In spite of his gimpy rear leg(s), he manages the stairs in our house, both coming up and going down. He didn't the first day, but after that his desire with be with me overcame whatever reluctance he had. Gambit has discovered kongs and other rubber chew toys around the house, more than I even knew we had indoors. He likes to have one with him always. He also likes to fetch. He brings the toy to me to throw, runs after it, brings it back, and drops it! I've rarely had a dog that did all that. Obviously someone worked with him and he enjoys it. Nice dog, and he gets along with everyone here, except Ochie. He took a dislike to Ochie and I don't think it's going to change, so I'm keeping them apart.