I came across these photos on my phone last night and realized that I’d never shared with you the absolute worst moment I’ve had as a puppy owner so far. No amount of lost sleep, stolen items or chewed couches will ever compare to the sheer revulsion and panic of this moment.
A few weeks ago (wow is it really weeks already…jeez), I’d brought Boomer out to the back yard to do his business before bed, I was outside getting air and making sure he did all of his business so that we didn’t have a repeat trip in the middle of the night.
He was paying very close attention to a ball underneath the picnic table. His little tail started wagging in what I describe as the bug-dance, whenever he’s trying to catch a bug he wiggles the exact same way, so at first I thought that maybe there was cicada there (he’s been known to enjoy their crunchiness!) and I started to call him over.
Next second he pounced, almost like a little kitten would and I heard a squeak. Must have been a squeaky toy I thought as he ran over to me delighted with himself tail wagging like mad.
Then I saw feathers sticking out of his mouth.
Oh dear god the puppy had a bird in his mouth, but even worse the little thing was still alive. It squeaked every time he adjusted his grip.
We haven’t quite perfected the “give” command, and we’ve never tested it on such a high-stakes prize like this one so needless to say Boomer wasn’t that willing to just drop the bird. He wanted to bring it inside and play with it.
I spent the most disgusting 10-15 minutes of my life on the back step using every single thing I could think of to bribe the puppy into giving me the bird; peanut butter, his favourite treats, his favourite toys everything. Eventually I asked best friend to just get me a great big wad of kitchen paper and I used it to slowly pull the poor (by now) dead bird out of his mouth. Boomer didn’t put up a fight but he didn’t open his open until the bitter end either.
I then had a dead bird and a delighted little puppy on my hands. Seriously no one tells you to expect this sort of thing when you get a puppy. I mean I’ve pulled plenty of socks and tissues from his and my other dog Charlie’s mouth over the years but a freshly killed bird….that is a new and disgusting low.
Boomer still checks that exact spot every evening just in case another little bird shows up…I blame the cat.
[Best friend was a great help - while I was horror struck and in an awful panic outside she picked up my phone and snapped the photos - cheers!]