It’s been chaos digging out from under the mountain of votes for the murderous canine. All. 4. of. them. Whew! You weren’t aware we were having a vote? Read HERE.
Most of you intuitively knew who the guilty dog was….EXCEPT for:
JACKIE….Sophie, the old Bichon? A bold out-of-the-box choice. Maybe in her younger days!
AUDREY….the Mastiff?? He’s big, but I don’t see death and destruction in his eyes. He might’ve accidentally stepped on a bunny and squashed it.
Reba couldn’t be the killer, cuz like I said…..VAPID. Doodles!?
The black lab, Mambo couldn’t have done it unless the rabbit was out for a swim. Seems unlikely.
Rosie the border collie could only accidentally herd the rabbit to death. Not this time.
Charlie the boxer? Naw….he’s too busy trying to breathe. He couldn’t sniff out a rabbit.
That leaves PHYLLIS and SUZY as our winners!! They voted for the fiercest sniffer and tracker of them all. Roxy Doxy!! You ladies are BRILLIANT! (and slightly twisted for reading this blog)
Is it because I forced her to pose with PEEPS at Easter that she despises rabbits?
Or, did she kill the rabbit because her brain is hardwired to sniff out fearsome badgers? Did you know her breed originated in Germany where they were bred to fearlessly enter badger-holes and kill them. To drive home how incredible this is, you must watch the honey badger video. I know it’s old, but it makes me cry with laughter every time I see it. Randall’s narration is priceless. If you want a laugh, watch it HERE.
Well….the contest is over. Thanks to all who participated. Now, I have to learn how to live with this killer. Eleven pounds of heat-seeking-missile rabbit-terror.
An Interactive Arthur Canine Doyle murder mystery. You get to vote…who doggone dunnit??
Returning from a festive Independence Day picnic in the verdant Pike National Forest, our ears were still ringing with the laughter of too-infrequently-seen loved ones. Our appetites were wonderfully sated from ingesting loads of barbequed ribs, brownies and beer. Our pack of friendly and tired mountain dogs playfully surrounded us on our walk home.
Quadriceps burning as we begin the final ascent to our cabin, the Texan spies a problem and breathlessly asks,
Did anyone else see that ground squirrel run into my shop?
Damn chipmunks! Fun to look at, but oh-so-destructive in the wrong environment. The Texan prides himself on our cabin being mostly rodent-free. We have escaped the damage other cabins have experienced from unwelcome mice, pack-rats, black squirrels and chipmunks. The chaos caused from a rodent falling through the ceiling at a family member’s cabin is ever fresh on our minds. The sight of chewed insulation and ceiling tiles, torn-out stuffing from beloved sofas, and enough animal poo to infect the state of Colorado with hantavirus is forever seared in our memories like a badly-grilled panini.
I didn’t see anything.
I saw it. It was a ground squirrel. Great….now he’s making a home in my shop and we’re leaving tomorrow! He’ll be stuck in here. When we come back, my shop will be a chipmunk Woodstock!
Dogs……come here and find the offending ground squirrel! Get it!!
The pack ‘o mountain dogs descend upon the shop. Tails a’waggin, noses a’ sniffin and paws a’ scratchin to find the violent rodent.
Breaking with traditional mysteries, I’m telling you the horrifying outcome. The mystery of this story is for you to decide, who doggone dunnit? Which innocent-appearing dog, in rambunctiously sniffing for a trespassing chipmunk, came out of the shop with the lifeless body of a….steel yourself….it’s upsetting….you’re not gonna like it….an innocent baby rabbit!
Was it the queenly-posing old bichon, Sophie?
Could it be the confused, orthodontically-challenged Charles? AKA Charlie?
Perhaps the perfectly pawtriotic, but supreme-sniffer Roxy-Doxy?
Was it the outgoing, yet vapid doodle, Reba?
Did the mastiff last spotted in San Fran mysteriously appear in Colorado to slay the tiny rabbit?
Did the faithful herding dog hatch a hateful plot to indulge her taste for hasenpfeffer?
Could the killer really be the angelic labrador, Mambo?
By the way….there were some other egregious law-breakers on our trip. Use your own viewing discretion with the following photos.
NEVER, EVER SPIN A BABY!
NEVER GO BAREFOOT IN THE FOREST!
YOU MUST BE AT LEAST 16 TO SAFELY OPERATE A MOTORCYCLE!
DON’T PICK THE WILDFLOWERS!
Rule-breakers everywhere you look.
Leave a comment on who you believe to be the guilty, rabbit-killing canine. I’ll out the murderous dog next week and let you know if you are the next Sherlock Holmes.
I guess your prize will be…..being able to read this blog. All you want. For free.