- Nov 14, 2009
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So apparently last week my husband walked out the door just in time to hear our dog Cricket dispatching something squeaky. He assumed it was a ground squirrel until a day or so later, when he found the body:
He snapped a photo and I didn't know a thing about it until tonight, when I went through the images on the camera and found the photo. He's really good at forgetting to tell me important things like this. Sigh.
Cricket was born by my bed a little over four years ago. Four weeks into her life, my previous husband died and I ended up doing the lousiest job of raising a dog ever. That she's still capable of doing the jobs she was bred for warms my heart.
I don't know that she'll ever gain the sort of reputation that her mother enjoys - Sasha excels at mothering baby birds and making unmarked raccoon carcasses appear in random locations - but she's doing pretty darn good.
For fun, have a picture of the Mighty Huntress airing her softer side:
He snapped a photo and I didn't know a thing about it until tonight, when I went through the images on the camera and found the photo. He's really good at forgetting to tell me important things like this. Sigh.
Cricket was born by my bed a little over four years ago. Four weeks into her life, my previous husband died and I ended up doing the lousiest job of raising a dog ever. That she's still capable of doing the jobs she was bred for warms my heart.
For fun, have a picture of the Mighty Huntress airing her softer side:
