White Dog was appalled. "She's a little savage!" she exclaimed. "Crazy pup filled with bloodlust. Makes me fear for our lives."
"Don't be so dramatic, WD," I said in an attempt to soothe her but something inside of me kind of agreed.
Zsofia has become a bird killer. She is young and fast and nimble...and she has been successful at least twice in past week.
A few days ago, I thought it odd when Candace came in late afternoon to tell me she had brought Puff inside. She found her at the far end of the yard, "Wandering." Puff does not go out much on her own any more because of her age. However, I remembered earlier Zso has come up and nuzzled against Puff; the Baby had something in her mouth. Then both disappeared. "I wonder if they went out to share the kill," Candace pondered, "or if Puff went out to give lessons." Puff came to us nearly feral and in her younger days was quite the huntress.
Tonight as Steve began bedtime walks, Zsofia ran in and hopped up on the couch. She had something large in her mouth and was avoiding eye contact. "Watcha got Zso-Zso?" She got up and ran toward the dog door. "DROP IT!" I used my ultimate momma voice, the defy me and you WILL be sorry one. She struggled for a second and I growled "DROP IT! COME!!!" This time she did, right on the bedroom floor and came back to "tag" me but I was too fast and grabbed her by the collar.
When Steve returned with Ferguson and Sachi I sent him to see what the treasure was. "Oh, no!" I heard and Zsofia bucked like a horse and escaped me. She lunged past Steve and clapped her teeth around the limp lifeless body. She refused Steve's commands so he leashed her up and took her outside. There he pried the bird out of her mouth.
From the looks of it, this was not the leavings of a cat gotten into the yard. We are pretty sure Zsofia caught it near nightfall, enjoyed a bit and cached the rest for a late night snack.
I grabbed her by the shoulders. "Birds are BAD to eat," I told her. "They have mites,; the kind that made Puff sick; and they carry all kinds of disease bacteria. You have no reason to kill. You get PLENTY to eat. It is BAD!" She licked my face and I mentally flinched.
Sibes have a higher prey drive than Eskies, I know, but her emerging desire to hunt makes me worry not only for our backyard wildlife but for Sachi, still her best friend but at 10lbs. possibly a temptation as they play wrestle to cross the line. And Candace has Izabella, the Bearded Dragon.
White Dog is distraught because she loves the birdies that live in our trees. Every Spring she watches nest building, egg laying and hatching from the bedrom window and she patrols the yard to protect them from neighborhood cats. "Make her stop, momma," White Dog pleaded wth me. "It is mean and gratuitious and just barbaric!"