Well, Friday and Saturday were very quiet around here as we all recouperated and unwound after Mom's procedure and brief hospital visit. Sunday started that way too, but then around early afternoon it took a twist....
Our German Shepard, Casey, was raising holy Hell outside in the dog's pen and when I brought him in he was still going nuts. I couldn't figure out what was going on, so I chalked it up to a squrriel or rabbit. It's a good thing my father saw the hole in the latice work that seperates the porch from the pen. Unfortuntely, Rusy, the Beagle, found it first and that's what Casey was freaking out about.
As I've said before, St. Franics works over time at our house. And we'd barely made it down the driveway to go find Rusty when he came running through the neighbor's yard. He was quite pleased with himself, but at least he came back. Before we got Casey he wouldn't come home on his own and we'd have to find him or a neighbor would end up bringing him back.
After a brief investigation it was obvious that something had torn the hole in from the outside, not inside the pen. And there were some tracks that looked dog but not dog around, so I decided to check a few things out on the internet. Honestly, I had a hunch because every winter I can hear the coyotes getting closer and closer. Last year around this time one was ran over at the corner of our road. And ten minutes on google confirmed my suspicions...they were coyote tracks.
I'm kind of shaken up! My little Marty wouldn't stand a chance against a coyote, I don't think any of our dogs would expect Casey. And if the coyote took the effort to break into the pen, he must have smelled our dogs and either thought dog smell meant food, or the dogs WERE food. Scary. Thank God spring is starting to show a little, because I'm going to have to go out with them at night...with my handy snow shovel.